May I Recommend...
...a movie I saw for the first time earlier this month called The Sea Inside? When DH pulled it out of the Netflix envelope and read the description, he said, "All yours, babe." "Really? You're not interested?" I queried. "Emphatically not," he replied, "I've learned. No more movies about death and suffering for a while."
(Let me put your mind at ease here and point out here that DH and I are not currently grieving any personal losses at this time that sad movies would only exacerbate. It's just that DH and I have an ongoing battle over the Netflix queue - perhaps you can relate? - where he likes to load it up with Jackie Chan and oldies from the AFI Top 100 list, whereas I love anything like Mystic River or 21 Grams or My Life Without Me where you get very attached to major characters and then they die or commit a crime or both, but not in that order. The more twisted, tragic, and heartwrenching, the better.)
Well, I popped that little disc into the player while DH was working on his computer in the same room. And before long, he was saying, "Can you back it up?" because, a) he'd been looking down at his work and missed something, and b) the movie is all in Spanish so if you are looking down you not only missed action but the English subtitles too. AND... this movie is hard not to watch. The acting is SUPERB. The dialogue is realistic and intelligent. The subject matter is compelling. The emotional impact is shattering.
No, I don't think I'm overdoing the hyperbole. This movie really does merit high praise. It tells the true story of Ramon Sampedro, a Spanish quadriplegic who wanted to end his life but was forbidden to do so by law and unable to do so by nature of his physical condition. The movie is unflinching and unsentimental, yet tells the story with compassion for those on both sides of the issue. It raises questions of ethics, of life, the boundaries of friendship, and the limits of love.
Not exactly the feel-good movie of the year... and yet... still a celebration of life. I much enjoyed it. (And, incidentally, so did DH. Even if he did bug out of the last excruciating 15 minutes and I had to tell him how it ended. I understood, though. I couldn't make it all the way through his Hotel Rwanda without leaving the room every so often to break up the intensity. I suppose we balance each other out somehow.)
(Let me put your mind at ease here and point out here that DH and I are not currently grieving any personal losses at this time that sad movies would only exacerbate. It's just that DH and I have an ongoing battle over the Netflix queue - perhaps you can relate? - where he likes to load it up with Jackie Chan and oldies from the AFI Top 100 list, whereas I love anything like Mystic River or 21 Grams or My Life Without Me where you get very attached to major characters and then they die or commit a crime or both, but not in that order. The more twisted, tragic, and heartwrenching, the better.)
Well, I popped that little disc into the player while DH was working on his computer in the same room. And before long, he was saying, "Can you back it up?" because, a) he'd been looking down at his work and missed something, and b) the movie is all in Spanish so if you are looking down you not only missed action but the English subtitles too. AND... this movie is hard not to watch. The acting is SUPERB. The dialogue is realistic and intelligent. The subject matter is compelling. The emotional impact is shattering.
No, I don't think I'm overdoing the hyperbole. This movie really does merit high praise. It tells the true story of Ramon Sampedro, a Spanish quadriplegic who wanted to end his life but was forbidden to do so by law and unable to do so by nature of his physical condition. The movie is unflinching and unsentimental, yet tells the story with compassion for those on both sides of the issue. It raises questions of ethics, of life, the boundaries of friendship, and the limits of love.
Not exactly the feel-good movie of the year... and yet... still a celebration of life. I much enjoyed it. (And, incidentally, so did DH. Even if he did bug out of the last excruciating 15 minutes and I had to tell him how it ended. I understood, though. I couldn't make it all the way through his Hotel Rwanda without leaving the room every so often to break up the intensity. I suppose we balance each other out somehow.)
posted by Mamabird @ 7:42 PM
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