Sim1I'll Buy the Flowers Myself
December 6th 2010 23:24
It’s difficult to write a review when all and sundry have already reviewed a movie and added their generic plot summary to the Internet Movie Database.
It’s difficult to write a review for a movie that you really liked, when the aim of your blog is to be sarcastic and slate cinema faux pas.
But it is oh so difficult to find fault with something like ‘The Hours’. Wouldn’t you agree, dear readers?
It’s not a beautiful movie, like ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.
It won’t make you cry, like ‘Forrest Gump’ (unless you’ve had a bottle of gin beforehand).
It won’t inspire you to go to a certain place, like ‘New York in the fall’- thank you ‘You’ve Got Mail’.
It won’t scare you, like the mere thought of ‘Psycho’ scares me.
It won’t make you wet yourself laughing, like ‘The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’.
But it will sober you up, whether you’ve had that bottle of gin or not.
It will make you want to read the biography of Virginia Woolf.
And it will stick with you. If not forever, then for a very long time.
I’m not going to give you a clichéd summary, in the style of ‘we’re following three depressed women dealing with suicide, blah blah blah’. There’s plenty of those on the web.
Instead, (and I am especially talking to you here, dear female readers) I am going to ask you to consider those times, when you feel utterly miserable. Everybody seems to be against you, everything you touch turns to shit. You’ve had a bottle of wine and three episodes of ‘Home & Away’ and both failed to cheer you up. You can’t call your best friend, because she is on her honeymoon and you can’t call your Mum, because she lives on the other side of the world and is 10 timezones apart. You feel alone, useless and who would miss you anyway, if you threw the towel and spent the last of this month’s salary on a flight to Canada to hide in the mountains. (You hate your job anyway, naturally).
I don’t know if you, dear male readers, suffer from an equivalent to PMT but if you do, you certainly handle it a lot better and you give a credible impression that everything can be fixed with a can of lager and some live sport on TV.
Anyway, in most cases, these momentary miserable moments don’t last more than a day, right? You have a good night’s sleep and all is well in the morning.
Imagine, though, cramming such a day’s worth of misery into two hours of film! And now imagine if your entire life was like that- hopeless and crammed into 2 hour slots! Do you see what I mean about it sobering you up?
Watch it. It’s all I can say.
It’s beautiful.
It will make you cry.
It’ll probably inspire you to go visit Virginia Woolf’s house in Rodmell, East Sussex (where she drowned herself).
It’ll scare you into realising that the topics covered in the film are not fictional, they are here with us every single day.
And if it makes you wet yourself laughing, you’re probably on the wrong pills, and I envy you.
It’s difficult to write a review for a movie that you really liked, when the aim of your blog is to be sarcastic and slate cinema faux pas.
But it is oh so difficult to find fault with something like ‘The Hours’. Wouldn’t you agree, dear readers?
It’s not a beautiful movie, like ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.
It won’t make you cry, like ‘Forrest Gump’ (unless you’ve had a bottle of gin beforehand).
It won’t scare you, like the mere thought of ‘Psycho’ scares me.
It won’t make you wet yourself laughing, like ‘The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’.
But it will sober you up, whether you’ve had that bottle of gin or not.
It will make you want to read the biography of Virginia Woolf.
And it will stick with you. If not forever, then for a very long time.
I’m not going to give you a clichéd summary, in the style of ‘we’re following three depressed women dealing with suicide, blah blah blah’. There’s plenty of those on the web.
Instead, (and I am especially talking to you here, dear female readers) I am going to ask you to consider those times, when you feel utterly miserable. Everybody seems to be against you, everything you touch turns to shit. You’ve had a bottle of wine and three episodes of ‘Home & Away’ and both failed to cheer you up. You can’t call your best friend, because she is on her honeymoon and you can’t call your Mum, because she lives on the other side of the world and is 10 timezones apart. You feel alone, useless and who would miss you anyway, if you threw the towel and spent the last of this month’s salary on a flight to Canada to hide in the mountains. (You hate your job anyway, naturally).
Anyway, in most cases, these momentary miserable moments don’t last more than a day, right? You have a good night’s sleep and all is well in the morning.
Imagine, though, cramming such a day’s worth of misery into two hours of film! And now imagine if your entire life was like that- hopeless and crammed into 2 hour slots! Do you see what I mean about it sobering you up?
Watch it. It’s all I can say.
It’s beautiful.
It will make you cry.
It’ll probably inspire you to go visit Virginia Woolf’s house in Rodmell, East Sussex (where she drowned herself).
It’ll scare you into realising that the topics covered in the film are not fictional, they are here with us every single day.
And if it makes you wet yourself laughing, you’re probably on the wrong pills, and I envy you.
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