On another subject, I've been thinking about the absolutely indescribable connection of person to art. I saw this movie called A Single Man today, directed by a fashion designer of all people, and it had a profound effect on me. The film itself is pretty good-- I think it bombs its last 15 minutes, though I am a fan of the conclusion-- but there was something about its vibe and its beauty and its age and its SADNESS that I just GOT, and I cannot explain why. It's about a gay man in the early 60's whose long-time lover has died, and he's become sad and dejected and intends to end it all, quietly, one day. The whole day is his straightforward plans for suicide, but really, it is not a suicide movie at all but a movie about life. This one day is a new day because suddenly, because this guy knows he's going to be gone, he appreciates and observes everything to the 10th degree. It's all very beautiful, in slow-motion, heightened, but not in a cheesy way. He eventually comes to a conclusion about it all at the end, which is really wonderful, and I won't spoil it, but I saw it as a movie meant to encourage the intellectual who doesn't want to hear that the world is a pretty place, or the person who, as one of the characters says, feels as though living in the past is their future.
My point was, ahem, that, given the plot and my lack of relation to any of the characters (not currently suicidal, nor gay, nor middle aged, nor living in the 60's), I feel as though I really "got" the film, like it seeped through to my emotions and is now having its way with my mind and heart. I suppose it's because it does speak to an emotional truth, that of the struggle to live your life even if it feels as though its over already it's still so full of wonderful things. Even in the face of death or fading tragedy it is full of wonderful things.
There was something specifically about Julianne Moore's character, a disappointed woman and old friend/flame of George's that I really connected to, and I loved their scenes together very much. I feel that most of the philosophy of the film can be found in their conversation, with Moore as the inactive one who is just as miserable as George, but George is at least proactive. Moore is trapped in many ways, and while she could never consider killing herself like George or going back to London, she could also never see the things that George sees.
It scares and comforts me that I understand this.