Delicious brainless dark escape/griefy/romance and cruelties.

I can't believe I used to write fully-fledged many-paged book/film/theatre reviews on this blog*, when these days even writing a paragraph feels like a lot, like I need to flex some hidden muscles or ask someone's permission to have an opinion - have I lost confidence? Is it an unfamiliarity in my own space? I'll continue to examine this. 

*technically it was another blog, a fancier one; this one is the reclaimed original that doesn't have any domain authority nor notable credits. I like it that way. Also this *asterisk has made me realise just how long my sentences can get these days, wowee. 

Photo by Clem Onojeghuo.

Okay, here are some short and quirky reviews. 

Apple Cider Vinegar. I'd expected to have more of an indignant and borderline visceral reaction to the story behind this series, being a person who has actually had brain cancer, not faked it for the sake of a social media following - although that is a weird anxiety I've had in the past, that I'm making it all up for the plot. Imagine!? 

I found I was more impressed with the American actor's Australian accent than I was upset with the real life woman's deception. I drank the series like a sugary green smoothie, it took me about 48 hours to get through it all and I thoroughly enjoyed it - even though I realised somewhere towards the end just how depressing it was, with every character screaming or crying or even dying. I'd recommend it if you're after a delicious brainless dark escape, need a helpful push into a social media detox, or want to feel better about yourself. 

6/10

Bridget Jones; Mad About the Boy.

I don't remember Bridget being quite *that* clumsy, or her hair being that frustratingly messy ALL the time, or those non-stop eyes-nearly-closed whole-face-cringe wide smiles that drove me a bit mad, BUT it was a good film. My friend had warned me it's very 'griefy', so I wasn't too unpleasantly surprised when they threw those poignant dead-dad moments in there, quite heavy blows amongst all the quirky fluff. Leo was good. Hugh was exceptional. The kids were alright. 

6/10

We Live in Time. I knew I'd love it, because it stars two of my favourites. Two of the people I'd most want to befriend, but would probably always fear they were humouring me with their company, allowing me a glimpse into their lives and putting up with my ramblings over a coffee or three. 

I thoroughly enjoyed the film, which I went to see at an enormous old cinema in a retail park; the kind young man serving me at the 'bar' told me the place was closing that night, bound for refurbishment and a new name, and a lot of his colleagues were going to be unemployed or moved elsewhere with the company. He offered to salt my £6 popcorn portion with his tears, as they only had sugar left in the glass drawers. I wished him the best, and made my way up through the ancient musty hallways to the 'studios' on the top floor, which had precariously steep rows of seats. Some young folks sat behind me in the back row, laughing and whispering through most of it - I did the customary thing of turning slightly in my seat, as if I had no idea where the noise was coming from, and hoped they'd be so shocked at my indirect directness that they'd quieten down. It sort of worked. In the end though, I chose not to let them bother me. I covered one of my ears and focused my eyes on my favourites. 

I didn't cry much, or not as much as I'd thought I would; as much as I'd been open to, maybe even looked forward to. In fact, the moment that made me cry the most was a surprise. It wasn't the bittersweet losses or near-misses, the vulnerability of Andrew or the gritted teeth determination of Flo (I call her Flo), it was an in-between scene that was included specifically to show the audience the beginning of something, the gentle morning-after vibes that took shape in these two humans stumbling into a quaint little deli and ordering coffee, and breakfast ingredients. It punched me quietly in the heart. Because that's my dream. Someone to potter around a little deli or cafe with, on a low-key low-risk cloudy Sunday morning, maybe in Herne Hill, maybe in Hastings Old Town. 

The film. Right. The chemistry was there. The story was believable, in its romance and its cruelties, and the things underneath. I loved the mixing of timelines; that's my sweet spot, the hopping back and forth and seeing how things began right beside how they end. The pacing was good, until it wasn't. I found towards the end the focus was almost solely on one thread of time, one part of the story, and part of me wanted each snapshot (all three) to have equal amounts of screen time and weight. I found it interesting that some important moments which could arguably have been major scenes and great opportunities for the actors to do what they do best actually happened in the ether between timelines - but then, I also thought that was the most true thing to life. It's like that book I love, you know, the one I'm always talking about, having everything happen on a particular day each year and it being a complete coincidence when important things fall on it but understandable when they don't, and we're made to pick up pieces and stitch them together for ourselves as we settle in with the characters and give them our trust. So... I actually liked that, but also yearned for more. Maybe that's the best way it could be. 

9/10

Thanks for reading,

G. x