Wednesday, October 19, 2011

crazy stupid love

this contains spoilers (but it's not like you'd never have guessed the storyline).

i have a thing for ryan gosling. this means that i like to see him on the big screen. so last night i went with M to see crazy stupid love. on the way to dinner i pre-empt that it's not going to be a good ryan moment. i'm a little excited, but i try to downplay my expectations. for me, his magnetism is surely embedded in the characters he tends to play. as the junkie (half nelson), the criminal (drive), the abusive spouse (blue valentine), the teenage murderer (the united states of leland), and the man in love with a doll (lars and the real girl), he's really very good. his wounded-animal eyes are ever-present and they draw me into the plight of these troubled men. but as 'the hot guy' with huge abs, i'm not sure i can empathise. nor am i likely to want him.

my dubiousness was well-founded. this wasn't a good film. there were good moments, and a great cast that made it seem quite promising, but alas...

the highlight for me was marisa tomei's character. perhaps i should hate this character, how she's portrayed, and what she is given by this script. but i don't. she's the crazy woman. she's a recovered alcoholic, needy of a man, anxious, and uncontrollable when angry. on paper, she's the hysterical woman. but there's more there. for me, the skills of marisa tomei give her some vigour and warmth (probably more than the scriptwriters intended). or could it be that the backdrop of love-seeking schmaltz (as the driving force of every character) is what draws me to her, the single person who doesn't abide by the laws of courtly love.

she's unhinged, she breaks rules, she's not inhibited by social convention. she's a school teacher who screams abuse down the corridor at parent-teacher night. she's the loose canon that i often wish i could be.

as the film (which did have some funny moments) starts to tie itself up, i find myself cringing more and more. the bad boy (ryan) that baddened up the good man, falls in love and changes his ways. of course, monogamous love outshines all previous sexual interactions (which were cheap, empty, and as it turns out, not satisfying at all). the slutty man is redeemed, he reneges. He eats his words and gives himself to 'real love'.

and all the characters (bar the schoolteacher) are talking of soul-mates, true-love, and never giving up on 'the one'. meanwhile i'm vomiting on my shoes. thus, marisa tomei's crazy woman, bound for spinsterhood, was the best thing i could take from this film.

Monday, October 17, 2011

I exist

[...]

Last night, reading my words from many years ago, I remembered that I exist. I saw familiar words and sentiments that are all too present today. I saw familiar concerns about my existence. I saw that there is continuity there, in my life and my thoughts, and this was comforting. This is comforting. My words become my base, and my text holds me together. This is something I can rely upon.

Friday, October 14, 2011

i wanna be your man



he has the same name as another who left me beside myself. but this time it's different.

he drinks the riesling and i drink the beer that comes in a bottle in a paper bag. it's a small bar with graffiti on the walls. it's sydney being melbourne. nothing fits, including us. for most of the night we're outside in the rain, barely protected by the umbrellas above. but that's okay. i slide into his stories and they keep me warm. later, a guy offers to find us seats inside. he puts us in the hallway, on small stools beside a trunk that holds a mirror and some candles. we feel like this is a bathroom. a traffic of people passing, but mostly i don't notice. i'm somewhere else. surrounded by chalkboards, we add to the graffiti. i tell him my mother's name and he writes it up.

in the hallway/bathroom alcove we eventually kiss. we kiss some more. i never imagined...

eventually we tumble onto the street. we stand next to his bike and he gives me his number. another kiss and then a goodbye.

i plug myself into music and walk the walk home. the saints. this is the sound of me walking king street on a particularly pleasant evening. it rains but i don't use my umbrella.