On "Before Sunrise"
Mitch and I had the movie Before Sunrise on our "One Week List"1 for about three years now. I finally saw it this week and figured it would make good livejournal prompt fodder. With the same prompt, but no idea what the other person is going to say, will we at last find out if we are..... THE SAME PERSON?!
In brief summary, for those who haven't seen it, here is the plot of Before Sunrise. Two strangers meet on a train, they talk, they impulsively spend a whole day and night in a strange city, they talk, they smoochy smooch, they talk, they love, they go their separate ways (with sequels to follow).
This movie considers itself great romance. I'm not saying it isn't, but I didn't find myself swept up in the romance of things for three reasons:
1. I wasn't feeling all that googity googity.
2. Ethan Hawke's character didn't do it for me in the least. He seems like kind of a boring, whiny, schmuck. When Julie Delpy's character says he kisses like an adolescent, I believed it, and didn't think that was an endearing quality.
The third reason is a little more complex and sort of want I wanted to write about. I kept thinking about what a great personal experience it would be to spontaneously spend the day with a total stranger. Not in terms of how great it would be to meet someone and connect with them, but rather, what a deeply charming way to find out more about yourself in that context.
I'm a talker. I talk. A lot. All the time. I love talking. This should surprise no one. When you meet someone new, you get to tell them stories that everyone else you know has already heard. More than just being able to indulge in a favorite story, you are afforded the opportunity to go back and think about things that haven't come up in your life because you're around people who already know you very well. For me, talking is how I understand myself much of the time. Hopefully I don't veer into self-indulgent pontification too much, but I often find clarity in what I'm feeling or remembering by saying it out loud. Some people do this through writing, some people do it internally, and I do it chatty-Cathy style. Meeting strangers reconnects me with parts of myself I forget when I'm in my comfortable social cocoon.
The spontaneity of the premise also delighted me. Breaking routine makes me feel huge and free and humbled by possibility at the same time. I didn't envy the characters their finding love in eachother, I envied what they felt about themselves after their day together ended. I recognize the inherent selfishness of my interpretation, but I'm at a time in my life where I think it is OK to be that flavor of selfish.
Last night, before sunrise cutely enough, I spent a lot of quality time talking with JC about life and life and more life. At some point he said to me that I needed to remember that, "I am everything unto myself." That isn't an exact quote, but he was essentially driving at the fact that everything I need or am is already in place. Not that friendship or family isn't a part of who I am, because it is, but that ultimately I'm already a packed bag. That is roundabout logic (and a weird metaphor) but it made a lot of sense at 3 am.
rad - all the theater i've seen recently
lame - all the cleaning i haven't done recently
1 A to-do list, written in crayon, with a deadline of one week, where one week does not equal seven days but does equal however fucking long it takes.
In brief summary, for those who haven't seen it, here is the plot of Before Sunrise. Two strangers meet on a train, they talk, they impulsively spend a whole day and night in a strange city, they talk, they smoochy smooch, they talk, they love, they go their separate ways (with sequels to follow).
This movie considers itself great romance. I'm not saying it isn't, but I didn't find myself swept up in the romance of things for three reasons:
1. I wasn't feeling all that googity googity.
2. Ethan Hawke's character didn't do it for me in the least. He seems like kind of a boring, whiny, schmuck. When Julie Delpy's character says he kisses like an adolescent, I believed it, and didn't think that was an endearing quality.
The third reason is a little more complex and sort of want I wanted to write about. I kept thinking about what a great personal experience it would be to spontaneously spend the day with a total stranger. Not in terms of how great it would be to meet someone and connect with them, but rather, what a deeply charming way to find out more about yourself in that context.
I'm a talker. I talk. A lot. All the time. I love talking. This should surprise no one. When you meet someone new, you get to tell them stories that everyone else you know has already heard. More than just being able to indulge in a favorite story, you are afforded the opportunity to go back and think about things that haven't come up in your life because you're around people who already know you very well. For me, talking is how I understand myself much of the time. Hopefully I don't veer into self-indulgent pontification too much, but I often find clarity in what I'm feeling or remembering by saying it out loud. Some people do this through writing, some people do it internally, and I do it chatty-Cathy style. Meeting strangers reconnects me with parts of myself I forget when I'm in my comfortable social cocoon.
The spontaneity of the premise also delighted me. Breaking routine makes me feel huge and free and humbled by possibility at the same time. I didn't envy the characters their finding love in eachother, I envied what they felt about themselves after their day together ended. I recognize the inherent selfishness of my interpretation, but I'm at a time in my life where I think it is OK to be that flavor of selfish.
Last night, before sunrise cutely enough, I spent a lot of quality time talking with JC about life and life and more life. At some point he said to me that I needed to remember that, "I am everything unto myself." That isn't an exact quote, but he was essentially driving at the fact that everything I need or am is already in place. Not that friendship or family isn't a part of who I am, because it is, but that ultimately I'm already a packed bag. That is roundabout logic (and a weird metaphor) but it made a lot of sense at 3 am.
rad - all the theater i've seen recently
lame - all the cleaning i haven't done recently
1 A to-do list, written in crayon, with a deadline of one week, where one week does not equal seven days but does equal however fucking long it takes.