Do you ever wonder if most of the massive insecurities and complexes we're hauling around are possibly no more than an ongoing, tacit plea to be reassured, because being reassured feels so good it makes up for the hours of not being able to concentrate on, oh, say, the challenges and opportunities facing the broadcast television industry when you're too busy wondering if so-and-so still wants to do naughty things with you with the same passion and energy he or she once did?
Eesh, that was a beast of an Annie Proulx of a question.
Speaking of which, last night I had my first Brokeback Mountain fight. There's a spoiler here, if you care . . . I've had discussions about the movie already with people who loooooved it, but I've been such a fucking cranky beast lately that people haven't been fighting with me. This man, however, seemed to think I was flirting with him or something, and rose to the occasion, as they do.
Sir, if I was flirting with you, you'd know.
It comes to this: with children starving across Eastern Africa, there is no way you can justify that movie being SO FUCKING LONG. I don't have a natural inclination against long movies. I can watch a Das Boot/Apocalypse Now Redux double bill two or three times in a single day with a great deal of pleasure, given enough marijuana. Because they have characters and stories and situations that need more than two hours to be expounded. The in-and-out of closet adventures of a repressed shepherd and his unrepressed boyfriend probably needed about 45 minutes to get the admittedly effecting and cathartic emotional message across. Beauty shots of mountains? Please. That's why I watched Grizzly Man.
If I sound angry, it's because I am; Last Night Boy accused me of discomfort with the idea of a gay romantic storyline at one point; at another, of being insensitive to foreshadowing after I complained about sitting there for two hours just to see Jakey get beaten to death. And of course that rode up my ass a bit. I know Jakey getting beaten to death was foreshadowed. It was just foreshadowed for TWO FUCKING HOURS IN A BORING BORING WAY.
But more seriously, there's probably a million people out there who think they've made some earth-shattering discovery with this movie about the existence of Gay Romantic Storylines, and I think it's better I just don't talk to those people anymore . . . they make me angry the same way east coast Americans do after they read their first Noam Chomsky essay and start lecturing everybody about how Israel has to get out of Palestine. Watch Lilies and get back to me, bitch . . . or not.
Man, I'm so CRANKY. I think I'm still bilious.
4 commenti:
Your crankiness makes my crankiness that much more tolerable. I love you AND you uncompromising tastes.
Let's ride the crankiness, Lady. That way when we see Darshan, we can *really* do the 70's thing by acting like testy cokehead bitches, without having to totally erode our septums.
Totally. . .
You are right - that movie was far too long. AND, it had no climatic scene that made you believe their "love", and by "love" I mean getting f$&ked in the bumhoolio, was real.
I thought the real tragedy was the way that Heath's cowboy wife had no idea that her husband was gay, and he just carried on pretending he wasn't. I'm sure the time didn't allow the cowboys to live together, but for goodness sakes, live alone! Don't live a lie and bring other people down.
And if Cowboy Heath was happy at the end living alone in that trailer - with nothing but Cowboy Jake's shirt to remind him of the past, it would be very surprising to me.
This response is very long. What I mean to say is: You are right. The movie was far too long and nothing happened.
Poor Jake though - he was the cute one!
I know, I know, he's as cute as a button with pictures of Sanrio characters on it. I can't get %100 into him though, because he looks kind of like one of my brothers. And Heath is too blond for me, though I know you've got nothing against that!
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