Not posting an excerpt today, but instead talking about movies and such. This is the delightful distraction part of the proceedings that I promised in the Before.
I just saw Pedro Almodóvar's new movie, Broken Embraces. Wow. I don't know if anyone else is a fan of his, but I loved this flick. Later on in my novel, 'The Jesus Years,' I make reference to the filmmaker following Henry around the streets of Barcelona with a camera. It was thus weird and serendipitous that I should happen into a theatre within the week of starting this blog that has so much to do with his Spain, and ultimately, the subject of art. The effects that it has upon people.
If you recall, and will be explored further within the novel, Henry avoids television and cinema for fear of remembrance.
Consider the cultural references the Kennedy family has had to endure from any number of artistic vehicles over the years with respect to the assassinations, be it drama or comedy (remember the Seinfeld episode?). Consider your own family or friend's tragedy being turned into a movie, let alone a enduring metaphor slipped into conversation at will. My example is a bit extreme, but stay with me.
I once had a friend that, along with others, received burns from an industrial accident. What he remembered the most was the screams emitted not only from his fellow workers, but from himself. At one point he told me that for the longest time he could not watch the T.V. show E.R. because of the screaming in the trauma scenes.
To exemplify that metaphor myself, Henry avoids cinema and its brethren for fears of his own: witnessing the act of love.
Have some of us not at some point wanted to shoot out the T.V. every time an E-Harmony commercial comes on? Maybe not? Remember the initial rub of a breakup? How soon did you rush off to the latest love affair airing at the local cinema?
Consider the various feelings that fall into this maybe want of avoidance. I won't say that I am of the full belief of this as a general rule, but it's definitely something that I have thought of over the years, especially being a huge fan of film's - if not television and other forms of art - ability to conjure emotions within (positive or negative). I suppose my question deals more with the breaking point for each individual; for Henry, at that spot on the time line of recovery, he chose to stick his head in the sand and wait it out.
A chunk of Broken Embraces takes place in the Canary Islands; Lanzarote to be specific. It is volcanic and quite visually spectacular. I've provided a photo gallery for shits and giggles, being that it has no reference to the plot of my novel other than exploring new worlds (and links).
Without giving anything away as far as plot, it is very interesting. Be that as it may, I am fairly psycho as to going into movies blind: no reading of reviews, no kibitzing with friends until having actually seen the movie. To say nothing of the fact that cinematic indulgence is so personal, I prefer to pick and choose by my own criteria and leave it at that.
Part of the spoiler spiel that Henry indulges throughout the novel stems from a concert I saw a long long time ago at Roxanne's in Hull, Quebec, where the lead singer of some band or other was pissed off for getting pulled by the cops for doing what everyone else was doing and proceeded to rant and blow the ending to every movie that he could think of.
It's the small things that stick with you in the end.
Anyway, below is a bit of geographical and visual background to a slice of art that moved me on this night of nights.
As hard as it may be, don't be a Henry. Continue to watch. Read. Write. Deal with it.
This last picture holds special merit within the movie. By clicking on it, you will be sent somewhere in cyberspace that explains some of its significance. To really really blow some of the ending of Pedro's piece of art, click on the bestest link below (please don't) and scroll to the bottom.
Tahiche Roundabout, Lanzarote, Canary Islands
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