Alright, movies are back.
I went to two film festival films on my own. I chose them carefully, not to be “good” movies but to speak to me in the process I am going through. Then I realised that’s what a good movie is.
First I saw 2046 but I didn’t like it much. It’s pretty and sophisticated but I didn’t care for any of the characters.
Reina Webster’s short film with a small cast was moving like a wheelbarrow of real life being dumped inside you. Slightly reminiscent of Taika Waititi’s style in One Night, Two Cars, it subtlely celebrates humanity in the face of pain. On, Jane, I wished so much you had been there to see that with me.
Miranda July’s film, for me, aced everything. A group of characters are introduced, each with beauty and sadness. Relationships develop, pain and love emerge, dances of forward and back are danced, a resolution is reached. Art happens. OK, take my state as a disclaimer. The love-torn guy gets the girl and the kids are all ok. Disbelieve me that I am allergic to schmaltz. It’s a feel good movie I feel good about.
The Village Voice review is good.