I have a whole bookcase of DVDs, all things I bought, thinking them worth the money. But then I don't watch them. I rarely buy anymore, because I know this tendency of mine. What is this resistance about? I ask myself. Am I afraid to plunge into the world of fiction? Unlike you -- I bet -- I was married to a novelist. But there are documentaries. Not all the films are the distortions of a fervid, novelistic mind. But the distortions of the documentarian's mind might be much worse. Let me extract something from my collection. Something old and familiar? One of those abandoned new things? Sitting here, after 7, with the sky not yet completely dark, I feel some need for beautiful images. Something luscious and mysterious to rescue me from a night of horrid, TiVo'd karaoke -- the new round of "American Idol" that I feel some vague obligation to simulblog. But I'm going to choose something more aesthetic. I have an idea of what would be suitable. I need to merge with some images. More later.
MORE: I said it in the comments:
The movie I felt would suit me was "Breathless," but I couldn't find it, and I later learned, it's not in my house. So I picked "Spellbound," which has some impressive black and white faces, but is actually rather phony and old fashioned... not as crisp as I'd remembered.
It did keep me from watching "American Idol" though! I just don't care about it. Sorry!
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