It wasn't so much the fact that I couldn't guess the ending of the movie (I'm used to that), but like...really, the messed-up-ness of it all. It was this moment of (very) slowly realizing (shut up) what had happened...and I was like, OH FUCK SHIT. That...didn't just...what???
To make matters worse, the poor protagonist of the movie was played by Geoffrey Rush, of whom I'm a big fan. I liked him in Shine (though I didn't care much for the movie) and absolutely loved him in Quills (in which he portrays a very likable Marquis de Sade). Rush's Virgil Oldman (the film is heavy with symbolism) is a man who fears women in the flesh—until he becomes entangled with a mysterious heiress. Before we can say "Sold!" (he's an auctioneer) he is head over heels for this beautiful (but confusingly annoying) woman.
If the number of parentheses I've used so far doesn't cue you in to just how worked up I am about this...I can only tell you that I just feel so bad for our good friend Virgil. Because the simple truth is this: He loved that woman in ways he didn't even know were possible. He accepted all of her flaws, laid bare all of his own vulnerabilities, and whispered to her in that moment, only—"I will never abandon you".
There was so much tenderness in the way he touched her face. In the way he wanted to make sure she was OK, that she was eating well, that she was given flowers on her birthday. There was longing in the way he talked with her on the phone. So much love in the way he put his arms around her. And he knew, he had faith, that she felt the same way.
Dammit, Tornatore. I had Cinema Paradiso on my list of films to watch (if only for Ennio Morricone's score), but I may just change my mind. Give me my happy endings, and I'll give you a satisfied viewer in return.
[Oh, wait...I just read the plot summary of Cinema Paradiso on Wikipedia. That one stays on the list.]
No comments:
Post a Comment