Tears. Vales of tears. Niagras of lonesome sorrow.
Tears upon tears upon tears. That’s what this film gives, it makes no apologies for it, and that’s what you should expect. Why shouldn’t you? You’re ‘hooked up’, aren’t you?
I’ve seen it five times now. Every time I’ve been reduced to a blubbering wreck. That, in itself, is a recommendation. When’s the last time a film really made you feel something?
Why did I feel something? I’m reminded of the scene in that Spike Lee ‘joint’ ‘He Got Game’ when Denzel Washington’s son asks why his parents had the sadism to name him Jesus.
His father explains that it wasn’t due to any religous impulse, he was named after a basketballer named ‘Jesus’. Why? ‘Because he was the TRUTH’.
The TRUTH; and the truth will set you free.
That’s how the saying goes, at least. Pour pity on the reality.
I won’t paraphrase the plot here, if only for the reason that I hope the meagre few who read this post will seek out this masterpiece for themselves.
These masterpieces, they don’t come around often, but when they do they show you what this art form, film, is capable of – all it can describe, all it can invoke, and all it can achieve.
I watched this on my pc, on a dismal 14-inch screen. I only wish that I could have watched this at IMAX, with couples in every direction experiencing it with me.
It would have been a form of communion.
After all, what better form of communion do we have these days than those evanescent gods on the burning screen, and those darkened souls below?