A horse a horse

Don’t you just love it when you happen across a movie on TV, stay with it, and end up smiling as the credits roll?  I caught The Legend of 1900 on IFC, a 1999 movie directed by fabulist Giuseppe Tornatore.  Not the tightest of movies, but there are some unforgettable, quintessentially cinematic scenes (which I won’t spoil for you).  Tim Roth plays 1900, a piano prodigy born on a cruise ship, who lives his entire life without ever setting foot on land.  Pruitt Taylor Vince (who normally plays plays serial killers and rednecks) stars as 1900’s friend Max, the narrator and undecided trumpet player.  Gorgeous soundtrack by Ennio Morricone.  Without a doubt, this is my favorite movie with the word "legend" in the title — The Legend of Bagger Vance.  The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.  Legends of the Fall.  Blech.

That Todd Solondz.  I haven’t laughed this much in ages.  Dear readers, if you’re ever feeling out of sorts with the world, nihilistic, depressed, or depraved, our friend Todd will set you aright.  His newest creation, Palindromes, hammers away at the eyes, stomach, and spirit, leaving the viewer feeling defenseless and wonderfully reborn.  The consummate button-pusher, Solondz weaves hot-button topics such as pedophilia, statutory rape, teen pregnancy, abortion, murder (yawn), and red-state Christianity into his smart and affecting screenplay.  While this is an inflammatory hoot, I was more intrigued by his strangely arty decision to have eight different actors play the protagonist, Aviva (anyone who sees this flick, let me know what you think about this).  As in his other masterworks, Welcome to the Dollhouse and Happiness, Solondz puts a familiar and sympthetic face on even his most deplorable characters.  We cannot paste simple labels on these monsters, dismiss them, or judge them without realizing that they are not so very different from us; they are us.  Oh, and the film skewers the idea of human progress or perfectability and shows the inherent emptiness of our systems of belief.  Funny, funny stuff.   

Good news:  I’m still capable of surprising myself.  The other day, on my way to work, I felt a faint tug at my sleeve.  A tiny old lady wanted me to pull her cart up the stairs for her.  I did something then that I’ve never done before: I said "no" and walked on up the stairs.  Sitting at my desk at work, the situation looping in my head, I couldn’t have been more stunned.  Who the hell EVER says "no" to an old lady?  Am I on the express elevator to Hell?  After some pained consideration, I decided that the event was insignificant from a moral perspective.  There was no reason that I had to be the one to lug that cart; any of the dozens of other riders streaming in behind me would certainly have lent a hand.  What enables me to live with, and even celebrate this moment, was the way it put into relief my sometimes careless, unthinking way of existing.  Yes.  Sorry.  Bless you.  Excuse me.  Good to see you.  It’s nauseating the way those words just come tumbling out.  Snubbing that old lady, while reprehensible and all of that, was the most satisfying thing I’ve done recently.  It reminded me that human beings are still fundamentally irrational, egocentric, unpredictable creatures.  I want to be a nice person (really), but not at the cost of my humanity.