Dirty Filthy Love
Directed by Adrian Shergold.
It has been ages since I have been able to sit through a whole film, or rather video, but hey who's keeping track (clearly. me.)
And perhaps even longer since I have felt like writing about one. In fact I think the last (previous to this) was House of Flying Daggers, directed by Yimou Zhang*** (which I. so emphatically remembered when we were at my advisor's office the other day - for a girl who doesn't read, she certainly fakes it really well.) which, while it was beautiful and the sex-appeal of the main characters (all!) was extremely high, it lacked in deeper ways (mostly the ending was a letdown).
This film, however, did not. Now, I have a predisposition for the dry humor that only the Brittish can do, and the main character's reminiscence of Mr. Bean... well, what can I say, I'm a sucker for quirky, slightly dysfunctional, depressed, thirty-something men. The main premise of the film is Mark's dealing with the loss of his job, wife and life, to, it would turn out, his fast-rising underling at the architectural firm. Typical, the stuff romantic comedies are made of, right? Wrong. Mark has severe OCD and an increasingly apparent Tourette's syndrome, and the acting is superb, characterizing the debilitating effects of depression on individuals with OCD. (Bringing a painfully marginalized social disorder to a humanized level much the way The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night did for Aspberger's) Perhaps it is just me, but I was rolling off the bed laughing, hiding myself from the "other embarassment" and practically in tears as I saw my own (very mild, I think?) obsessive compulsions framed so beautifully.
Things I discovered about myself: I have at least 4 (or 5) obsessive behaviours that I can readily identify, the most surprising of which is my need to turn off lights even before I leave the room, or before I climb the stairs - forcing all those around me to ascend in darkness.
Ah. But this wasn't meant to be about me. Jolly good film, indeed, that is if you can appreciate beautiful architecture, and unconventional sex scenes, while not feeling too alluded to. Hmm.
*** I forgot. The real last film I watched was Pi Directed by Darren Aronofsky. See comments for details.
It has been ages since I have been able to sit through a whole film, or rather video, but hey who's keeping track (clearly. me.)
And perhaps even longer since I have felt like writing about one. In fact I think the last (previous to this) was House of Flying Daggers, directed by Yimou Zhang*** (which I. so emphatically remembered when we were at my advisor's office the other day - for a girl who doesn't read, she certainly fakes it really well.) which, while it was beautiful and the sex-appeal of the main characters (all!) was extremely high, it lacked in deeper ways (mostly the ending was a letdown).
This film, however, did not. Now, I have a predisposition for the dry humor that only the Brittish can do, and the main character's reminiscence of Mr. Bean... well, what can I say, I'm a sucker for quirky, slightly dysfunctional, depressed, thirty-something men. The main premise of the film is Mark's dealing with the loss of his job, wife and life, to, it would turn out, his fast-rising underling at the architectural firm. Typical, the stuff romantic comedies are made of, right? Wrong. Mark has severe OCD and an increasingly apparent Tourette's syndrome, and the acting is superb, characterizing the debilitating effects of depression on individuals with OCD. (Bringing a painfully marginalized social disorder to a humanized level much the way The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night did for Aspberger's) Perhaps it is just me, but I was rolling off the bed laughing, hiding myself from the "other embarassment" and practically in tears as I saw my own (very mild, I think?) obsessive compulsions framed so beautifully.
Things I discovered about myself: I have at least 4 (or 5) obsessive behaviours that I can readily identify, the most surprising of which is my need to turn off lights even before I leave the room, or before I climb the stairs - forcing all those around me to ascend in darkness.
Ah. But this wasn't meant to be about me. Jolly good film, indeed, that is if you can appreciate beautiful architecture, and unconventional sex scenes, while not feeling too alluded to. Hmm.
*** I forgot. The real last film I watched was Pi Directed by Darren Aronofsky. See comments for details.
posted by ilana at 11:14 p.m.
4 Comments:
¿En el libro de Haddon se habla del síndrome de Aspberger o lo mencionaste por parecerse al autismo?
Yuré, ahora que lo mencionas, el libro no explicita la clase de autismo que padece el niño, sin embargo, por la descripción de la habilidad del niño de funcionar dentro de la sociedad (y por experiencia educativa sobre niños con tal síndrome) yo lo entendí por Aspberger, que sí es un tipo de autismo, por supuesto. Pero siempre me puedo equivocar.
BTW - Mentí... la última película que vi enterita fue Pi que también trata de un genio con trastornos mentales. Me gustó bastante, a pesar de los errores matemáticos y la simpleza del argumento sobre la kabalá, por la manera en la cual nos involucraba a los espectadores en el infierno personal del protagonista.
En nuestro kinder-escuela tuvimos un niño (varios) con síndrome de aspberger. El que más recuerdo es uno que cuando le contábamos que un pajarito nos había dicho algo, amenazaba con asesinar al "maldito pajarraco", tenía la fiel convicción de que los extraterrestres se lo iban a llevar y una manía con la limpieza.
Sole,
Le hubieran leído el cuento del buen Darío "El pájaro azul"...
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