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Hypersynaesthesia

the colours in your head

4.15.2005

Furrin' Films

The night before last I went over to Anya's and watched Orson Welles' Falstaff (also mysteriously entitled Campanadas a Medianoche... I don't know what's up with that. It proved very confusing when we were IMDb-ing it during the viewing. Yes, I am an obnoxious person who must know EVERYTHING about EVERYONE in the movie. While watching it. But I'm cute while I do it, I like to thing, so I can get away with it. Also, I'll kick anyone's butt who complains.) ANYWAY, back to my very important and fascinating point. It was a very good movie. I enjoyed it greatly. However, I didn't see much of it, because I was busy being distracted by the WORLD. IMDB this. Phone call that. Commentary on whether Prince Hal or Hotspur was hotter here. Deciding whether King Henry was wearing a little hat or a toupee underneath his crown there. It was fun at the time, but it kind of pisses me off that it's gotten so ok for me not to concentrate on movies. Ach. I shall have to see it again. I think I just wasn't in the right mood for scary flat black and white lighting/ grainy soundtrack / Shakespearean setting. But from the little I registered, it seems phenomenal.

Claire's Knee, on the other hand, is PHENOMENAL. Firstly, I have to give it props for a.) the creepiest knee-touching sequence ever, and b.) having a delightful actress, BĂ©atrice Romand who was simply fabulous, playing a strangely wise sixteen year old in a perfect, but non-obnoxious way. Ana and Anya maintained that I also liked her because she looked like me, skinnier, younger and with shorter hair (kind of depressing combination, no?) but I just thought she was lovely. There's a certain breed of French girls aged around 15-25 (they come older too, but they have to switch a few things around) that are so terribly fey in a way that only they can pull off. I seethe with jealousy and watch them parading around with their strange haircuts and clothes, that somehow look tremendously precious on them. They like to frolick and chainsmoke and always have packs of males hanging off them adoringly but few female friends. I met one of this breed recently-- I was informed, through my friend Laurence, who was playing liason, that she doesn't speak to girls. Come to think of it-- this girl was another breed, that is still predominantly French, but some Italian girls can pull off quite successfully.

Anyway, before I break down and start sobbing about how JEALOUS I was of the girls at riding camp in France, and how I'm still bitter about this, 6 years later, I am going to run. I see that I have completely lost my train of thought re: the movie. I personally liked it. I like Rohmer in general though, so others who dislike him would find it hopelessly dull.

1 Comments:

At 2:02 PM, April 15, 2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I may be flattered by the suggestion of (in truth long lost) youth in my new title, but the older one ("the lurking Croatian force of evil") is probably more becoming, in spite of its unfortunate political geography.

 

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