to tell of two cities:
Beirut | Venice
Two places by name -- one man, one city; one floating on melodies of a different time, one sinking into a watery grave; both dreaming eternally. The man walks the narrow cobblestoned streets and skims the canal's black water edge, his head turned towards the streetlamps muted, like the trumpet entering in the song, melancholy and mellow. If it weren't for the warm brass, the electronic-tinged haze of the song feels akin to that of watching a dream sequence from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. This song would soundtrack that night scene in the movie where they would fall asleep with swelling and peaceful hearts, Zach Condon's muffled lyrics fadingfalling into their subconscious conscience. I'd like to think that What falls, what falls inside must fall. is echoing into their night mindscape.
Paris Je T'aime
A collection of 18 short films composed this vignette attributed to la belle Paris, and made me and Elaine wish ourselves back to that city. Each & all were about love in some short form or other, each director added his or her own touch and once again, I saw Paris through the eyes of someone else. Like the pathetically frizzy-haired and big-bottomed American woman who butchered the French language in the last short film. I love that there was just a moment that couldn't be described that allowed her to feel that mix of contentment and longing to let her know that she was alive and loving life. I am adamant against seeing a city, truly seeing a city, through the vices of a tour group, because there could never be that moment in the grip of such a vice.
I also loved the short with the elderly couple insulting each other so richly, with such warmth and generosity. Steve Buscemi's always a treat to watch. Want to see Elijah Wood as a vampire lover? And I loved Gurinder Chadha's fearless Muslim girl. And the sad death of the innocent African man and the paramedic's moment(!) of recognition & realization. And the story of the man who fell in love with his wife after forcing himself to love her. And my favourite had to be the story between Natalie Portman and her blind boy (directed by the man behind Run Lola Run). Such short stories they were, and many of them left me wanting more, and left me wondering What the...?! (the one with the Chinese hair salon ladies) or simply, What would happen next? and craving closure.
I think that's the genius of short stories. The genre of short stories is something I've grown to appreciate, especially after Isaac Asimov and Stuart Mclean's stories from the Vinyl Cafe.
Two places by name -- one man, one city; one floating on melodies of a different time, one sinking into a watery grave; both dreaming eternally. The man walks the narrow cobblestoned streets and skims the canal's black water edge, his head turned towards the streetlamps muted, like the trumpet entering in the song, melancholy and mellow. If it weren't for the warm brass, the electronic-tinged haze of the song feels akin to that of watching a dream sequence from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. This song would soundtrack that night scene in the movie where they would fall asleep with swelling and peaceful hearts, Zach Condon's muffled lyrics fadingfalling into their subconscious conscience. I'd like to think that What falls, what falls inside must fall. is echoing into their night mindscape.
Paris Je T'aime
A collection of 18 short films composed this vignette attributed to la belle Paris, and made me and Elaine wish ourselves back to that city. Each & all were about love in some short form or other, each director added his or her own touch and once again, I saw Paris through the eyes of someone else. Like the pathetically frizzy-haired and big-bottomed American woman who butchered the French language in the last short film. I love that there was just a moment that couldn't be described that allowed her to feel that mix of contentment and longing to let her know that she was alive and loving life. I am adamant against seeing a city, truly seeing a city, through the vices of a tour group, because there could never be that moment in the grip of such a vice.
I also loved the short with the elderly couple insulting each other so richly, with such warmth and generosity. Steve Buscemi's always a treat to watch. Want to see Elijah Wood as a vampire lover? And I loved Gurinder Chadha's fearless Muslim girl. And the sad death of the innocent African man and the paramedic's moment(!) of recognition & realization. And the story of the man who fell in love with his wife after forcing himself to love her. And my favourite had to be the story between Natalie Portman and her blind boy (directed by the man behind Run Lola Run). Such short stories they were, and many of them left me wanting more, and left me wondering What the...?! (the one with the Chinese hair salon ladies) or simply, What would happen next? and craving closure.
I think that's the genius of short stories. The genre of short stories is something I've grown to appreciate, especially after Isaac Asimov and Stuart Mclean's stories from the Vinyl Cafe.
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