Polanski, psychoanalysis and gender.
When we are together it feels like I am about to jump. It feels like in suspension. It feels like there is nothing else around me, nothing. Interesting to see that he has so little or nothing at all to do with it. (long discussion about alterity).
There was Garde Manger this past week and the restaurant is really special. Not so sure it was worth of my 180$ dollars, but it was good I must say. Not just the food, which was exceptional, but the decor, the music, the walls texture, it was like walking into another dimension, amazing experience.
So now that I’ve decided what I want, I need a bibliography and a plan.
And I need to make my luggage and get ready for Brazil.
Husband is having weird behavior. I wonder why. Jealousy does not bother me much, but controlling makes me very upset. I wish people were able to verbalize more often what is it that makes them unhappy or uncomfortable. I don’t like when others assume that I have a sixth sense, sorry to let you know that I don’t have super powers! And I don’t wish to have them. Talking is still the best way to make things clear.
Repulsion is the name of the movie I will be analyzing.
Truth is I like George Clooney as director. I like his long shots, his close ups and of course the stories. It was like that in Good night and good luck, and now with The Ides of March. But as usual the weekend passed by to fast and I didn’t do everything I wanted to, counting the hours for my vacation.
In between Julia Kristeva and Keruac I find my way through my week.
I was wondering how it would have been if I had stayed. Looking back now it feels like every step, all the mistakes and hits led me to right here and now. It is a sort of bitter sweet feeling, and today while we were dancing in the living room I realized that the huge gap between us was because of this sadness, unmeasurable. And yet this is what keeps us close, what keeps us longing for each other, like something you can never reach.
In a way, I was never there.
The day started white, the snow falling outside made me think about the readings I wanted to do today and all the movies on my list sitting there waiting for me. It took me a few minutes to decide where to start, movies first, books after, email to friends and phone calls by the end of the day. But that feeling wouldn’t leave me alone. What had happened if I had stayed? What happened to my old friends and their long hairs? We were all so alone and so lost, and yet how lucky we were! I figured that having no certainties was what made us all free, and what brought me here.
I read Judith Butler and saw some movies from my list, some others that I found it could be good. I enjoy my solitude, every part of it.
And I will never know why she didn’t call me Abigail.
So the new year started with a very bad cold that of course didn’t stopped me from watching some movies, it was actually one the few options I had since I was too weak to go out. And because I was weak and tired and it was after all time to relax and don’t think too much I decided to start with In Time, a movie written by Andrew Niccol who is the same guy that wrote The Truman Show (a great movie btw) and starring Justin Timberlake and Amanda Seyfried.
So the story happens in a not so far future where people stop aging at 25 years old but are engineered to live one more year. Having the means to buy your way out of the situation is a shot at immortal youth. Trying to not spoil the movie too much, the story is a very good parody to what happens right now in our contemporary society, it is indeed a very marxist movie, made simple.
Everything you buy is charged in minutes, minutes that you are actually taking out of your life as you are born with a watch that tells you how many minutes, hours, you have left. You work to gain more time to live but yet life costs are higher and higher. And this is not exactly what we do? We sell our time, our lives, in order to live, in order to buy. Of course this is not the best acting of Timberlake’s career but the movie is worth a shot, like my dear teacher used to say: the beauty of a movie depends on the eyes of its viewers!
Coco avant Chanel.
I didn’t like the movie, didn’t like the story line, and maybe it is because I don’t like Chanel. Talking to an old friend she was telling me how brave and feminist Coco was and I couldn’t disagree more. I mean, the lady was avant-garde for sure but to say that she was a great feminist is way too much, she didn’t fight for women’s rights, she wasn’t a very independent woman and on the top of all that she was a nazi spy! I mean, seriously? Making it short, I could have spent my time watching something else.
I am still in love with my readings, the list of desirable books are getting bigger and bigger. The good thing about finishing school is that you actually can spend more time reading what you really like. ( I have to enjoy this period of my life because school is coming back soon).
Quem é que nunca sonhou em encontrar Picasso, T.S. Elliot, ou Man Ray e bater um papinho com os caras? Esse com certeza é um dos meus sonhos mais antigos, rever pessoas que influenciaram muito em minha vida, como por exemplo Man Ray. Midnight in Paris é um filme cheio de referencias à pessoas e locais que fizeram historia na cidade de
Paris como Hemingway e Les Deux Margots ou Picasso e seu favorito lugar “La Rotonde”, mas acima de tudo é um filme sobre amor. Sim, amor. Amor aos seus sonhos, amor ao romantismo que sempre parece estar morrendo nesse nosso mundo e por isso as viagens de Gil ao passado numa tentativa de resgatar os valores que sao caros pra ele.
O filme pressupõe que a audiencia conheça a estoria desses personagens e é claro que o filme fica muito mais interessante quando vc conhece. Mas a idéia, a essência do filme nao se perde mesmo quando se ignora a estoria efervescente dos anos 20 em Paris.
Mas a sensação de que a geração passada era mais feliz que a atual nos persegue sempre! A historia de vida de muitas pessoas do passado parecem mais interessantes, os encontros mais frutiferos e reais. Vejam por exemplo todo o povo da escola de Frankfurt! Se nao fosse pelo Adorno, Benjamin nao teria sobrevivido durante os anos de guerra. (Ta certo que ele se suicidou depois, mas mesmo a saída da França seria impossível)… A amizade entre Adorno e Horkheimer, enfim, longas estorias.
O filme é enfim uma ode ao amor, uma lembrança de que seguir o que se acredita é mais valido do que se imagina. Tem muitos filmes do Wood que eu gosto muito, embora ele nao seja meu diretor preferido acho que este filme fala muito sobre ele mesmo. O Gil poderia muito bem ser o Wood alguns anos atras tendo que escolher que carreira seguir. Mas isso sao especulações…
Montreal acordou em meio a uma tempestade.
Uma das vantagens de se estar de férias é poder passar um tempo nas ferramentas de busca da internet procurando por filmes brasileiros. Numa dessas minhas empreitadas encontrei uma versão de otima qualidade de um documentário chamado Estamira.
Estamira é uma senhora de 63 anos que trabalha no Jardim Gramacho (o mesmo do documentário Wasteland do Vick Muniz) ha vinte anos. Estamira é esquizofrenica e têm uma maneira poética e filosófica de ler o mundo.
Estamira ja foi casada, e deste casamento teve 3 filhos muito bem criados e ja adultos. Depois de muita tristeza e de ter sido violada sexualmente pela segunda vez Estamira perdeu-se em suas crises esquizofrenicas. O filme é sobre essa tristeza absurda e incomunicável, capaz de levar um a loucura. É um grande soco no estomago porque mostra a situação nao apenas de Estamira mas de muitos brasileiros vivendo em condições indizíveis de sobrevivência…
O documentario é de 2004 feito por Marcos Prado, que utiliza preto e branco em varias cenas do filme para descrever o cenário em que vive Estamira: hostil, feio, triste, so. Pelos olhos de Estamira vemos um pais carrasco, sem perspectiva, cruel e que se acostumou com suas mazelas.
Estamira morreu no final de Jullho agora, de uma infecçao. Morreu mesmo foi de tristeza, eu acho.
O Fellini é um dos diretores mais contemporâneos que existem. Amo as fotografias dos seus filmes, sao pontiagudas, certeiras. Fellini é imperdivel.
“All the confusion of my life… has been a reflection of myself! Myself as I am, not as I’d like to be.” (Guido)