I'm heading out to Harry Potter. He's got a special place in my heart because I figured out Dylan in the middle of a the last Harry film, exactly two years ago. "Figured out" might not be quite right. Or "him"--more like how I was going to convey him.
It just all came together while I was watching--during the scene where they were on the suspension foot bridge and his girlfriend/pal (Hmine?) told him he needed his friends' help.
I pulled out my paper and started scribbling in the dark, continued in the lobby after. (My buddy was nice enough to wait while I spilled it. It doesn't come back if you don't catch it.)
I'm not sure how much of it had to do with Harry. It was a mildly spellbinding film, which got my juices flowing, and I think they were ready to rupture and there they went. It was not Harry-specific, but I maybe just needed something good.
That was also the end of my Dylan-induced depression. I noticed as I wrote that I was not depressed--it had just lifted, completely--but I was so close to the depression it was just fingertips away, close enough to observe it intensely for a little while, before it drifted slowly into the middle distance, where I could only see shapes and outlines. I was so close, yet outside it, which is everything. You can't see anything from the inside. At least I can't.
It occured to me also, that I had isolated myself for four months, and immersed myself in Dylan's world and maybe dragged myself into depression without knowing what I was up to so I could taste a bit of what he felt. I never did that consciously, but the trail looked pretty incriminating from there.
However I'd gotten in there, or why, I was out. It was like I was drowning and someone yanked me out of the water and I was completely dry. (Another metaphor? Hahaha. Sorry. I guess I'm just working them out here. The fog didn't seem quite right, because those don't disappear instantly, do they? This did. I was miserable, miserable, miserable, and then this one thought struck in the theater, my pulse raced, I started scribbling . . . and I never sank back down.
I have not been depressed since. Thank God. I don't like depression. At all.
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Sept 7 Update:
Here's what I posted on the film briefly, later:
The movie kind of dragged. Probably the dullest of the lot, though at least there was none of the goofy filler high school dance stuff.
Will Leitch's blog led me to someone's called Sefra, who sent me spiralling into a Sufjan Stevens weekend. I was savoring and wallowing in Sufjan for 72 hours. Hard to get enough of him.
Sefra posted a really cool youtube--a live version of "For The Widows In Paradise; For The Fatherless In Ypsilanti" with him just picking at the banjo, brilliantly-- which you can watch at the link, but it's "Chicago" that really bleeds me:
Is that what heaven's going to feel like, on the anxious stroll in through the gates?
(You'll never find out. hahaha.)
I'd never heard it until I saw Little Miss Sunshine--what an under-rated film. I think "Chicago" came on during the first scene of the van off on the highway, running under those beautiful expressway cloverleafs.
I was already in awe of the film, but that was the moment I fell in love with it. And eventually it came to this, my favorite moment:
I almost couldn't take the moment just before it. When he discovered his ailment (I won't wreck it) and started pounding on the walls and roof of the van, I rolled off my couch onto the floor crying. (Yeah, that happened. I was watching alone and that caught me by surprise. Nobody to hug.)
And that self-muted guy was my favorite character.
I never did decide whether it was my favorite for the year. It was a tough race with Half Nelson. (A name I can never remember. I had to look it up on my Facebook page.)
Both were amazing. What a year.
Hennyway, the youtube up top is a live version--not the best musically, but worth it to watch Sufjan perform--in his butterfly wings, even:
He aludes to them with a chuckle during his intro--". . . who believe, as I do, that more is more." Hehehe. I'm generally of that persuasion. Watch it, and decide. Or just enjoy.
The wonderful NY Daily News writer Wayman Wong posted this tonight on my Brokeback Mountain Discussion Board, looking back on the Globes ceremony:
I'm thrilled for the movie. I'm thrilled for Ang Lee. I'm thrilled for Diana Ossana and Larry McMurtry. But couldn't someone in their acceptance speech even acknowledge the simple fact that the movie is a love story about two guys, and they're thrilled at how audiences have reacted to how universal that story is? Neither the word ''gay'' or ''homosexual'' ever came up. Look, I'm not asking for anyone to read a GLAAD statement or wave a rainbow flag, but something. . .
But I really starting getting irked when the film-summary/mini-trailer they ran for Brokeback a best pic nominee also skirted it. It's been one thing to omit it in the ads--if you're selling something, why grab the one aspect most unsettling to most of the audience and stick it in their face? But this wasn't (supposedly) about selling. This was supposedly a show about awarding the work, not selling it. (I know that's really naive, I know it's not true, but at least it ought to be a mixture of awarding and selling.)
At what point is it both dishonest and implicity copping to a self of shame not to admit what the hell it's about in the damn segment devoted to it?
I'm starting to feel more and more like this is the closeted movie. One of those ridiculous cases where everyone knows the guy's gay, but everyone pretends. In certain circles. Fine to discuss it, awkardly, on talk shows but not in the ads and not on awards shows?
For once they actually showed the clip of the boys getting close to kissing, so it was suggested. Suggested, great. Still, we get shots of the guys kissing their wives and dancing with them, but they still can't show the kiss that's at the heart of the movie? One of the other nominated films showed a bedroom shot and they can't show a kiss?
This really would have been the time. Just show the damn kiss!
One of the many crucial reasons for straights to see this film is to see two guys can kiss without the world coming to an end. For a lot of people out there, it will be the first time they ever see two men kiss. That's a real problem. Millions of us kissing each other every day of the year, but we're still doing it in hiding, so they're still unnerved by it, because it's been sanitized out of their lives.
That part of our lives is still very closeted. Not the sex, not gross PDAs--nobody needs to be seeing that--but the simple tender, everyday moments of happy couples holding hands, exchanged a brief kiss in public without a second thought. For thaty 99% of all gays 99% of the time still closet ourselves.
And it's a fully self-propogating system, because the straight people will always be unsettled by it and rightfully so if we keep hiding it.
Half a billion people watchig, they claim. Show them the damn kiss.
Maybe at the Oscars.
I won't hold my breath. But maybe. At least they'll be all done worry about any effects on the oscar race by then. They'll be worrying about getting the max box office bump out of the oscarcast, though.
And yeah, that's important to me, too. I'd rather see people actually get to the film and be taken in by the whole experience than just see one kiss, out of context, and out of emotional involvement on tv.
So maybe they're right, it's unpragmatic to do it.
Maybe I'm just getting angry again, that the longer this goes on, the more times they have to quake and wonder "should we show the kiss?" "should we mention the gay word?" it just reminds me how damn preposterous the whole situation is that most of the country has been sticking their heads in the sand and pretending millions of men in this country don't kiss each other, much less fuck.
It's freaking annoying. And I know I've been getting ahead of myself, feeling like straight people are finally starting to see it as this film rolls out--and not turning into pillars of salt!--but man, do we have a ways to go.
Which all leads me back full circle to Brokeback Mountain. What a wonderful, wonderful gift to our world this film has become.
Thanks so much to Parenthetical Greg, my new brokeback webmaster, for setting it all up. He has been amazing.
And thanks to all the moderators who have been taking over the discussion. This will simplify everything greatly. (For you and for me.)
Soon we will also have a real discussion board there, which will be so much easier for all of you to use, and I won't have to keep having these comment-thread posts on the blog.
And thank you to all the hundreds and hundreds of readers who have joined the discussion. This certainly took on a life of its own.
Mainly for tittering old ladies feeling a little naughty. A breast! they're going to show a breast! Oh my!
Junior high school humor for senior citizens. Quite the unfortunate combo.
And completely confused in tone. First half did not belong with second half.
What the hell hell happened to Stephen Frears? The Grifters and Sammy & Rosie Get Laid (nothing like it sounds) are two of my all-time faves. Been quite awhile. High Fidelity had moments, but felt pretty light. Dirty Pretty Things so tedious it was barely watchable.
I saw Mrs. Henderson at a sneak last week, and Stephen actually appeared after to answer questions, but I couldn't even bear to stay for much of it. (Plus most of the questions he had answered the same way on Charlie Rose a few nights earlier.) It was mainly too depressing, though, to watch such a great director talk about this silly little confection that wasn't even sweet.
And yes, Judi Dench was her ususal wonderful self, but perhaps a bit too usual. But how can you tell, really, when you're not really interested in anything coming out of her mouth after the first 20 minutes.
I just noticed Sin City showing up on critics' year-end top ten lists. (Chart here.)
Ugh. Gives me the shivers.
Really revolting film. And stupid, too, at least the first 30 minutes. First film I ever walked out of. My initial reaction here.
That little post also comments on the miserable experiment that was the film Yes, my second-ever walkout, two months later. Roger Ebert put it 9th on his list. Huh. One of us has a big problem.
Brokeback wins biggest yet at most important award outside the Oscars! NY Film Critics hand it Best Picture, Best Director and Best Actor. Heath Ledger finally gets his due, from the most important source. (And was 2nd with LA, the next most important.)
Nice!
Brokeback swept both awards that really mean something: NY and LA film crits. This is SO sweet.
(Thanks for the emails, so I didn't have to monitor. Gotta get back to work. That's all till tonight.)
Oscarwatch began its latest post this way: "Ladies and gents, we now have our official critics' darling, Brokeback Mountain."
In the last 24 hours, it has won best picture and director honors from the LA and Boston film critics groups, made the AFI top ten list (no winner is picked), and trounced most of its rivals on the Broadcast Film Critics nominations by leading the pack with eight, double any other film except Crash (with six.)
Philip Seymour Hoffman also seems to be cleaning up the Best Actor awards for Capote--he was stunning, though I still prefer Heath; and Ang Lee for director; and Murderball is doing well for documentary; and everything else is still a very mixed bag.
Tomorrow comes NY Film Critics and National Board of Review (the former at 5:30 a.m. PST), then Globe noms on Tuesday. Full awards schedule here.
The more these awards pile on, the more media attention Brokeback gets, and the more it becomes The Film that everyone is talking about. It's The Controversial Film, and The Supposedly Great Film. That's a a strong pull for the curious. This is quickly becoming the must-see film for anyone who wants to be part of the cultural conversation. That's so cool.
I would love everyone in America to see this, because I really think it will open their eyes. I know that's not going to happen, but virtually everyone is getting exposed to it, and getting the conversation going is a huge accomplishment.
Now I just hope Brokeback can win NY. All these other awards and noms are nice for publicity and fun to watch the Oscar horserace play out if you're into that--I'm an addict--but they don't really mean a whole lot, outside their impact on those other events. As awards unto themselves, that I would really care about winning if I were a filmmaker--or when one of my books gets made into a film--there are really only two outside the guild awards and the oscars: LA Film Critics and NY Film Critics. We'll hear from the latter tomorrow. If Brokeback could grab both, that would be sweet.
Monday Update:
National Board of Review: Brokeback won Best Director and Supporting Actor for Jake, and made top ten list. (Good Night won best film.) Hoffman won yet again.
NY Critics to announce any minute. I will be out, but Jim will post in the comments
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(For comments on this, best to go to the latest Brokeback comment thread. See my Brokeback Mountain page.)
