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2003-08-11 | 12:23 a.m.
corduroy licorice was trying to get his phys. ed. gear together for the new school year. he could buy it anywhere he wanted to, but the workout clothing had to match his school colors. he was able to get some purple gym shorts, but was having trouble finding the golden fleece.
i'm getting the new apartment itch. i've lived in my current abode for about five years and am feeling a bit "grass is greener"-y. a couple of my friends are in the midst of their own home hunts, which probably got me thinking that i might want to move house, too.
there's something very seductive about a completely empty apartment. it's a blank canvas to begin one's life rewrites, or, at the very least, redecoration manifestation.
who knows what a new address might do to my life outlook or outcome? you've gotta wonder. at least i do.
i saw a really depressing movie this weekend, which doesn't mean it was bad. just very dark and spread thick with symbols that provoke thoughts and confusion.
it's a swedish film called songs from the second floor. written and directed by roy andersson, it won the special jury prize at cannes in 2000.
two movies that came to mind while watching it were delicatessen and brazil, both darkly funny films that look past the horizon line to where the powers that be are leading us in a "worst possible scenario" kind of way.
this film's art direction was heavy-handed, but effective. the palette was mostly grim gray and sickly green and the actors wore white make-up that gave them a strange pallor.
there is no central story, just a series of vignettes with a few characters that show up more than once. there are moments of bitter humor and so many symbols that repeated viewings would be required to hash them all out.
one of the funniest lines for me was from a crucifix salesmen tossing his product line in the trash heap while bemoaning his bad business call. "how did i think i could make money off a crucified loser?" he whines, while the catholic church and christian televangelists everywhere would have to gently snicker at such naivete.
i left the theater feeling worn down and depressed, but buried deep within the grimy grimness was a message of underdog hope. there were glimpses of it onscreen, but it's the type of movie that needs to unravel in the back of one's mind for awhile.
"blessed is the one who sits down" is a line that pops up throughout songs from the second floor. i think anyone who sits down to watch this challenging piece of cinema will be blessed, even if they stand up feeling slightly black and blue.
take a peek at these - (c) 2000-2003 nictate:
quibbling with quitherfeather
catcher in the wry