Saturday, July 25, 2009

I didn't want to sleep so I went to look for a movie to watch...

...and I felt like watching this one: And When Did You Last See Your Father. I'm pasting the last episode. The link to part one is up in my uploaded movies post. I cried big wet tears during the embracing scene. But I have a reason for weeping like a lost child.

I find that Colin Firth is so good at conveying things that reflect what you yourself feel about a certain scene. He can stand there and stare at Jim Broadbent, not really doing anything overtly physical, and you can see what you feel about Blake's father reflected back to you. None of the actors I've fancied is quite like him. I'm so glad he's in his prime while I'm old enough and young enough to catch him on-screen. He's a treasure. I wish somebody had filmed his stage performances.. drat it. I'd very much like to watch those as well, especially in Another Country (I really want to see him play Guy Bennett!) and in that one by Harold Pinter.

I've loved all Colin Firth's movies that I've managed to watch so far, but this one is closer to home so it's more special. I lost my mom to cancer of the colon, an area in the body not very far from where Blake's father was suffering from. And my grandmother too, although being such a long time ago nobody could really confirm it. We did suspect it's from the same type of cancer. So that scene ...where Blake was asking his mother whether his grandad died from the same cancer and his mom told him not to worry, he has some days left ...sent me on a near catatonic journey through my own labyrinth of terror. My way in dealing about it is to pretend as if I would live forever.

When she died, I felt numb. I didn't know what to feel, how to feel, or if I ever would feel anything ever again. After some time had passed, I did notice one thing though. The prevailing recognizable feeling seems to be of anger. Which is stupid, and unwanted, and uncalled for. But it's there all the same. We didn't part on such a great note, my mom and I, thanks to some sibling meddling. But even without a petty squable from a third quarter, we had not got on famously. I guess being the eldest daughter and having a baby sister who died during childbirth right after you then growing up to be an antisocial lazy bum around the house did not exactly endear you to your mother, did it?

Mom never did make it home from the hospital, and she died without any of us around. It was so sudden, one day her operation was a success and she was making plans about what to do when she got back, the next day she was wheeled back unconscious into the ICU. I keep telling myself, it's over now... no use fretting about what can never be. But it doesn't make a difference. I'm still fretting. And I'm still getting pissed off everytime I remember anything about her, in relation to me. Maybe it's not her I'm angry at, and I can't be angry at God either coz death is a non-negotiable fact of our existence. But there you have it... as a human being, I can't help feeling angry at... something. Then I'll feel guilty about feeling angry. Which brings despair right around with anger at its heel. I wonder whether this cycle will ever stop, and if yes.. when?

I'll recommend this movie to anyone who has parental issues, or lack of them.. issue(s) or parent(s). It's nice, tells it as it is, and most importantly, dispense with all the preachiness... which I can't stand in any work of fiction or biographical/autobiographical, urgh. And it has Colin snogging more than one woman and in a bathtub doing ...something interesting (am still wondering about the lack of splashing). What's not to like? Watch it before youtube executives takes it off, the nasty buggers.

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