Hearst Castle

On a whim, I set out to Hearst Castle this past weekend. I may have been a little too spontaneous. My phone died before I reached my hotel, and I had to drive three extra hours to find a hotel that was open and had available rooms. I had originally thought of staying in Solvang and visiting the Dutch area, but the hotel erased my reservation, and I had to drive up the rest of the way to Hearst in the middle of the night.

The visit to the castle was pretty memorable. On arrival, I realized there are dozens of various tours depending on the hour of the day, so if you ever go back, chances are you won’t have the same visit. It’s a nifty trick to encourage repeat visits.

Overall, it was a great trip. The coast is so beautiful, the vistas are splendid. It was one of those times where I had to pinch myself to realize how lucky I am to live in such a gorgeous state. And pinch myself to stay awake.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

All the reviews to the movie will say “stunning” “astounding” “mesmerizing” “remarkable” “inspiring” “beautiful” and for once, you can trust everything they say.

I sat there after the movie was over, thinking..I’ve never seen a movie like this before.

You could say the movie is about triumph over adversity, courage, overcoming physical difficulties. But I think the movie really is about the power of imagination and about our mortality.

Through a very physical way of filming, the cameraman obscuring the lens with his finger, fading, light, camera movement, you see the world through the eye of a man, larger than life, who is locked inside his body after a devastating stroke and can only blink his left eye.

Stuck in his body that he refers to as the diving bell, unable to move, confined, motionless, imprisoned, his spirit soars free, a butterfly weaving his way through dreams, fantasies, memories and desires. You vacillate between physical reality and emotional reality, and who is to say which is real?

The inner voice is biting, humorous, sensual, witty, critical, angry, passionate, full of life, in an exterior that it too easily dismissed as a “vegetable”. What comes out of this motionless man, one letter blinked at, at a time, is a novel of extraordinary beauty and sensitivity, a torrent of poetry, the agitated and beautiful inner life of a soul trapped more obviously in its cage than ours is.

We live in the illusion that we aren’t trapped, and that we are far from death because our bodies function, and help us feel that we can defeat the odds forever. Jean-Dominique Bauby reminds us that facing death every day in a body that is still, is just as free as us, and infinitely more aware.

The Visitor

The main character is a widowed Connecticut Economics professor. He’s taught the same course for six years, he’s not busy, he’s bored, lonely, isolated, locked in a successful life by material standards, but he has no family around him, no emotional wealth. He has no connection, and the movie, like Summertime, focuses in on the idea of loneliness and society, belonging, culture and connection. What brings Walter Vale back to the world of the living is to find out that a small-time crook has rented his apartment to a young couple of illegal immigrants. Through his friendship with the husband, a Syrian man who plays the Djembe professionally, he rediscovers life, learns how to play the drums, and becomes involved in a family to a depth that surprises even him.

It’s a very sensitive movie. I went to see it because I’d loved the director’s previous work (The Station Agent) but this was a wonderful surprise. The theme of illegal immigrants in a post-911 US is timely, the soundtrack of joyful drums is uplifting, the message is strong. Look out for the magnetic performances of Richard Jenkins and Hiam Abbass, as the mother of the Syrian man.

Summertime

1955; Directed by David Lean on location in Venice. Katharine Hepburn (Jane Hudson) and Rossano Brazzi (Renato De Rossi).

My new favorite David Lean movie, much more intimate than his sweeping epics (think Lawrence of Arabia, Dr. Zhivago and Bridge on the River Kwai) because I’m in an introspective mood lately. In fact, for the little story, I read that of his movies, it was his personal favorite.

I can understand that now, having seen it. It’s one of the best on-screen romances I’ve ever seen, intimate and real, but more than a romance it’s a movie about loneliness, being alone, and how you carry it with you, and temporarily try to cheat the feeling with company, but are always, ultimately alone. This makes the romantic theme bittersweet (and more palatable) and at the same time truer to life.

Jane Hudson is from Akron, Ohio, and is excited to fulfill her lifelong dream by spending the summer in Venice. She’s what they called in the fifties a “spinster”, but has been single so long, she’s a “1″ in a world of “2’s”. Her loneliness is made worse in Venice, where couples abound, almost as a personal affront. Alone…until she meets her dashing gray-haired Italian lover, that is! Brief ‘ethical’ struggle ensues, love happens, movie ends…do they end up together?? ah-ha!

The theme of “one” is found–very subtly–throughout the movie as in the recurring theme of the (single) striking red glass 18th century goblet, in the antique shop window, that brings Jane and Mr. DeRossi together.

David Lean’s touch is in every detail, it’s such a pleasure to see the film of a master. It’s the equivalent to listening to a maestro conduct a world-class philharmonic. You can just sit back and ENJOY. The dialog sparkles, Venice has never been more beautiful, the story is perfect, Katharine gets to do her whole range, from slapstick, to drama, to romance. The movie is an unintended monument to her artistry.

Last but not least…her chemistry with Brazzi is so hot, you forget its a movie. Brazzi is not only an incredibly handsome man (I literally gasped at his first close-up and had to pause the movie), he is allowed to have a rare role in movies, one I haven’t seen since “Bridges of Madison County”. He’s a virile man in love. He’s strong, manly, sensitive, emotional, he’s the desiring lover, in control of his life but abandoning himself temporarily to having lost his mind in love. I can’t remember the last time I saw a man look at a woman so long and so often with unabashed, calm fondness and longing.

The last thing anyone should do is write Summertime off as ” just another chick flick” simply because the centerpiece of the movie is a romance. That would be tantamount to writing off Requiem for a Dream as “just another drug movie” or The Princess Bride as “just another comedy”.

Sacrilege!

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Most memorable line:

Renato De Rossi: Listen to me! Stop behaving like a schoolgirl! What my wife does is not your business. What signora Fiorini does is not your business. You come here and what you do? You hide in a gondola and you sigh “Oh, Venice is so beautiful, so romantic! Oh, these Italians, so beautiful, so romantic! Such children!” and you dream of meeting someone you want: young, rich, witty, brilliant, and unmarried, of course! But me, I’m a shopkeeper, not young, not rich, not witty, not brilliant and married, of course. But I am a man, and you are a woman. But you see…it’s “wrong” it’s “wicked” it’s this, it’s that. You’re like a hungry child who is given ravioli to eat. “No!” you say, “I want beef steak!” My dear girl…you are hungry. Eat the ravioli.

Jane Hudson: I’m not that hungry.

Renato De Rossi: We are all that hungry, Miss Hudson.