a very plum plum
i'm not the biggest, flag-waving fan of movies in general. there are, however, a few that i hold frighteningly close to my heart like tiny emaciated children. i saw the english patient in the theater [huge rariety] when it came out in 1996 and i was 15. no, its widely-criticized length has never phased me [if only it was two hours longer even], and all jokes about the high drama contained in the film have fallen heavy and flat, very flat to me. surely, the english patient is a dramatic movie, but, for an american film, it sits steadfast at the summit of its genre. this movie transforms the adulterous love affair into something to fight for, to live and die for, and nearly, to war for.
count almasy and katherine make me want to tear my hair out. lying on the couch in demi-slumber, i want to rewind their monster-inhabited-body sex scenes so that i can memorize them and copy their essence under the entry for "devour" in the ol' oxford. i want to sit future lovers down with insistence on the pedantic instruction of count almasy's inability to carry out daily life and his subsequent beast-rabid jealousy and ownership of katherine, like once he entered her, loved her, he colonized her and laid down unlawful laws. in some instances, sure, this might seem creepy, but it's done in such a way that thoughts of a restraining order are steaming up the windows inside your head. [i'm giving away the ending here] count almasy is one of the most desperate lovers in history, in movie-life and real-life. this insane motherfucker carries katherine not once but twice, TWICE he carries her, through the desert, over-the-threshold style, first alive but injured, then rotting-in-a-cave-in-the-desert-for-days DEAD. he's walking all slow because dead weight is crazy heavy, the music's sweeping large and tear-jerking, sand's blowing and he's just bawling. so you're all lying on the couch like, "oh my god this movie is so desperate, so decidedly impatient that i think i can't bear it without plunging my hand right through the screen for one of those morphine bottles and plowing a needle far into my arm. under the weight of this film, titanics buckle and casablanca looks on as a captive, classroom audience in hopes of understanding where it could have bulked up."
count almasy and katherine make me want to tear my hair out. lying on the couch in demi-slumber, i want to rewind their monster-inhabited-body sex scenes so that i can memorize them and copy their essence under the entry for "devour" in the ol' oxford. i want to sit future lovers down with insistence on the pedantic instruction of count almasy's inability to carry out daily life and his subsequent beast-rabid jealousy and ownership of katherine, like once he entered her, loved her, he colonized her and laid down unlawful laws. in some instances, sure, this might seem creepy, but it's done in such a way that thoughts of a restraining order are steaming up the windows inside your head. [i'm giving away the ending here] count almasy is one of the most desperate lovers in history, in movie-life and real-life. this insane motherfucker carries katherine not once but twice, TWICE he carries her, through the desert, over-the-threshold style, first alive but injured, then rotting-in-a-cave-in-the-desert-for-days DEAD. he's walking all slow because dead weight is crazy heavy, the music's sweeping large and tear-jerking, sand's blowing and he's just bawling. so you're all lying on the couch like, "oh my god this movie is so desperate, so decidedly impatient that i think i can't bear it without plunging my hand right through the screen for one of those morphine bottles and plowing a needle far into my arm. under the weight of this film, titanics buckle and casablanca looks on as a captive, classroom audience in hopes of understanding where it could have bulked up."
posted by margaret @ 10:31 AM
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