The man who fell to earth

This is a text I wrote yesterday night, but couldn't post.

I just watched The man who fell to earth.
It was an almost indescribable feeling. With very little dialogue and powerful pictures, the movie transported so much meaning and emotion. I am overwhelmed and deeply moved.
I haven't found the meaning for myself yet. The impression is too fresh in my mind. I will have to think about it, call back to my inner eye some scenes and words.
Is it worth fighting the inevitable?
Is it worth hoping when - logically - all hope is gone?

On a lighter note, I was really happy to find that synchronization dropped out several times during the film, leaving us with subtitles that could be easily ignored. That way, I could get a wonderful, but oh so short "nothing" in David Bowie's original voice. (No kidding, at that moment he really said "nothing")
I don't know what it is with me that makes voices so important. If I don't like a voice, I usually don't like the person that comes with it.
On some stupid TV show somebody once said, a person with an English accent could ask them just about anything, and they'd do it. I guess that's true for me, too. I just love that sound.

:-(

caustic_elegies left LJ. He didn't even give me the chance to answer to his last comment. While I understand why he left, I'm still sad.
I just hope he'll continue being around and read some things I write, because we had wonderful discussions on very diverse topics and I'll miss that.
So, G(3), wherever you may be, I wish you all the best and hope you stay in touch.

overdose

This has been way too much for my poor brain.
Afer watching The man ho fell to eartch yesterday and still thnking a lot about it, today I saw the MoMA exibit in Berlin. It was really cool, because we went there to celebrate the official part of my sister's marriage, and she knew somebody who left our names at the VIP desk, so we didn't have to wait in line but could walk right in, and still pay no more than the people who queue there for hours. Yeah, so maybe that's not fair, but as the saying goes in Germany: connections only harm the people who don't have any.
So seeing these beautiful - at least for the most part - pictures and sculptures, and having the film fresh in my mind, left me tired and exhausted.
There were some weird pictures in the exhibition, though. I don't really care for Picasso, no matter how famous he is. And some of themodern American painters are a little too strange for me. What's a white canvas entitled "twin" doing in an art exhibit? I have this theory that some critics and painters collaborate in trying to get as much money for nothing as possible from stupid rich people who believe anything somebody with a famous name tells them. Maybe I should make a series of pictures called "Siberian Winter" - they'd be all white. (OK, that's not my idea. It's been used in one Inspector Jury novel by Martha Grimes. Read it to know what the white paintings are all about...)
An explanatory note on the marriage thing: In Germany, you need to be married officially, that is, by a town clerk or similar person. Even if you want to marry in church, you can do that afterwards. So the official part of my sister's wedding was today, the "real" wedding will be next weekend in our hometown with family and friends. Yuck. I had quite enough of my family toay, thank you very much...