It was such a bee-yoo-ti-ful day!
The sun was shining, the birds were swooping around the trees . . .
And, of all things, self decided to go see Amour.
Nothing against the actors, who were fabulous. Especially Emmanuelle Riva. What an expressive face, and what a beautiful body the woman has! She doesn’t look 82.
Isabelle Huppert has morphed from her younger sex-pot days to a thin actress whose nerve endings seem on high-intensity, like a car’s headlights on a foggy evening. Self cannot tell you how much she set self’s teeth on edge, sitting there and demanding that her incapacitated mother work harder to enunciate.
Her mouth, or maybe just her whole lower jaw, reminds self so much of Anna Paquin. Now, that’s a highly irrelevant thought. It’s just that self is so excited she finally identified who Isabelle Huppert reminded her of. It took her hours to realize it was Paquin. She was sitting there, near the front of the theater, thinking the actress Huppert reminded her of was Claire Danes. But no, no, it was Paquin.
Throughout the movie, Huppert’s attire was jeans and a blazer. The blazer was navy and tapered, the better to show off Huppert’s thin, narrow, exemplary back. Self absolutely loved the look (Self! Get a grip! Why are you going on and on about Huppert’s blazer? You are supposed to be discussing this excruciating masterpiece! And reflecting on how, in a few years, you too may be in the position Emmanuelle Riva was in, reduced to uttering one word, over and over: “Hurts! Hurts!”)
At some point during the proceedings, self felt a maddening desire for a cupcake. Life’s too short, self was thinking. What am I doing in this dark theater on such a beautiful day? Perhaps I can drop by Sephora and try on a new lip gloss?
Self has a confession to make: she couldn’t finish the movie! Yes, she walked out! And because she had the bad judgment to sit in one of the front rows, the whole theater saw her walk out! (Self also happened to notice that practically everyone else in the audience was a senior. Wow! What courage! To sit through two hours of watching a beautiful woman’s physical disintegration! While undoubtedly undergoing your own physical disintegration! But that’s what’s so great about Americans — they have nerve! Remember when you watched United 93? How everyone sat there, patiently groaning? Because the plane’s final descent featured the Mother of All Shaky Cams? And let’s not forget the opening minutes of Cloverfield . . . She watched it with son in a cavernous theater in Arroyo Grande, he was a sophomore, the entire theater was full of impetuous, running feet, whispers, giggles in the dark, and one plaintive voice in the back going, ” — the fuck is this?”)
Afterwards, at home, while The Man was watching Iowa State vs. some other team, you kept saying, “Will you euthanize me when the time comes? I’d do the same for you . . . ”
And The Man replied, “OK, OK, you want to be euthanized. Do you mind, I don’t want to think about that right now. I’m watching a game . . . ”
Self should mention that before landing on the college basketball game, self ordered The Man to hunt up what was showing on HBO-HD. And all he found was a Beyoncé concert. Which then gave self cause to wonder if she had done the right thing by signing up for a year of HBO …
Stay tuned, dear blog readers. Stay tuned.