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July 1st, 2012

Hmmm--the real Wrath of the Titans?

I went to see Ridley Scott's Prometheus on Thursday.

Some of my friends loathed it, some loved it. I waited until the last possible moment to see it, and saw it in 2D, and don't think I missed much by the choice.

I'm going to write something coherent at some point (I think I'll write one of my "assignments" for my film class and use it as an example for my students), but since it's now out of the theaters, I'm not going to worry about spoilers. These are just impressions, not fully fleshed out thoughts.

1) Nice juxtaposition between image and action for the "founders" (big, round, friendly eyes--not-so-friendly behavior)

2) Michael Fassbender continues to impress. But, wow, he's short.

3) Charlize Theron was wasted in her role.

4) Idris Elba. :-)

5) I don't understand the David/O'Toole's T. E. Lawrence connection. I'm sure it was supposed to "reveal" something, but I didn't catch it/didn't understand it. And I've seen Lawrence of Arabia multiple times. And read about the real Lawrence. Need to think about it.

6) The critic's lampooning of the Jurassic Parkness of it was well-grounded, but sort of missed the point.

7) Nope. Still don't like horror movies. Had to keep my eyes shut--a lot.

8) Clearly, they're hoping for a sequel (Sara and David Visit Othrys?), but, really, haven't we seen that already? Isn't that the Terminator films?

9) What is it with Ridley Scott and heroines? I'm sure his psychiatrist wonders, too.

10) Should have gone to Magic Mike. Soderburgh also makes my head hurt, but in a totally different way.

Seven Words Meme

So, Ernst gave me seven words. I've addressed the first. Time to move forward.


English, in this regard, is a lazy language. Is love "agape"? "Philia"? "Eros"?

So, briefly, in parts.

"Eros." Not something I'm comfortable talking about, or actually having as part of my life. Not really comfortable having it talked about openly around me (which, given some of my friends, means I'm frequently very uncomfortable). I accept it as a gift that it can be such a delight, but I'm very serious about it, to the point of sacred-ness, and am consistently baffled by those who can separate it into something that seems about as profound as a good meal at a restaurant you're going to visit once in your lifetime, or as meaningful as a baseball game. I'd rather not have it part of my life than as something so trivial.

"Philia" and "Agape"

These, to me, are the ones that matter. Oddly, though, I'm not sure where "romantic" love falls in the three-part spectrum. The short form is I need to have people in my life that I love. But it is even more complex than that. In the film Adaptation, which is, frankly, one of the strangest films I've ever seen, the characters Donald and Charlie (twins, played by Nicholas Cage) are talking:

"Charlie Kaufman: There was this time in high school. I was watching you out the library window. You were talking to Sarah Marsh.
Donald Kaufman: Oh, God. I was so in love with her.
Charlie Kaufman: I know. And you were flirting with her. And she was being really sweet to you.
Donald Kaufman: I remember that.
Charlie Kaufman: Then, when you walked away, she started making fun of you with Kim Canetti. And it was like they were laughing at *me*. You didn't know at all. You seemed so happy.
Donald Kaufman: I knew. I heard them.
Charlie Kaufman: How come you looked so happy?
Donald Kaufman: I loved Sarah, Charles. It was mine, that love. I owned it. Even Sarah didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want.
Charlie Kaufman: But she thought you were pathetic.
Donald Kaufman: That was her business, not mine. You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago."

Yeah--that's pretty much it. I love some people. I love them in different ways, for different reasons. I love God as I understand that word. I love hope, and possibility, and compassion, and work, and sunlight on water, and dark, hopeless nights. I love breath, and rain, and how leaves dance in the wind. I love good wine and butter melting on my tongue. I love the bite of a clear, cold winter day and how water tastes after I've been working in the sun for hours. And when I say "love" I mean it the same way I loved his smile. If I open myself to the world, and draw in a breath, deep into my lungs, and look, really look at the horizon, or the fur on a kitten, or Ping's muscles as he runs after a toy, I am filled. There is an intensity of feeling, of being. Maybe it's just filled with life. I call it love.

And cookies. I love cookies. But that's different. ;-)