Post by lilly on Nov 25, 2009 7:22:59 GMT
I snagged this from Netflix the day it was released, but unfortunately that night when my dad and I sat down to watch it, I had taken some allergy medication that rapidly rendered me unconscious and drooling shortly thereafter. (Alright, well, probably had a head start on the drooling, admittedly.)
Though I only made it about halfway through the film the first time, I pretty much had the same reaction as kitty did with regard to Mr. Morrissey's now-fabled 'do therein:
After the second viewing, I have to say that I was even more amused to note how his hair seems to become progressively worse over the course of the film, too. (I was rather partial to the quiffy mullet, myself, but maybe that's just because the little sigh he gives after the teenage object of his desire compliments it absolutely sent a flaming arrow straight through my left ribcage.)
Another point in the film that really affected me was the part with the elderly former dancing teacher who has lost a leg; when she takes out her beautiful shoes and puts one on her remaining good leg, that scene brought tears to my eyes, because I know so well the feeling of despair that accompanies a memento of one's past that symbolises the way one has been irrevocably changed forever.
Unsurprisingly, I also was reminded of my mom a lot--although she didn't have Alzheimer's, she did have dementia that increasingly worsened over the last few years of her life--and especially because most of my family were in varying degrees of denial and bargaining about her condition, I kind of had to be the default pragmatist (nature abhors a vacuum, etc.). As a result, I really liked how the film pointed out that when you're dealing with a dementia patient, there's no use trying to impose reality on them; you just have to roll with whatever version of reality they've got going on that day.
On a lighter note, the "Come On Eileen" sequence was absolutely priceless (though I wished it had lasted longer--jeez, where's a ten-inch dance remix when you need one?). Overall, I really loved seeing Mr. Morrissey in a role that not only showcased his priceless capacity for goofiness (with a heapin' helpin' o' flawed vulnerability at no extra charge) but also was quite some ways removed from his usual "tormented everyman" roles.
Again, I really wish he'd do more offbeat stuph like this (instead of yet more law-enforcement-type parts *sigh*) but hey, the guy's got a family to feed...though as I recently commented at LJ, I'd like to see his next movie take place in a 1970's gay bathhouse, so clearly my judgment in such matters is fairly questionable anyway.
Though I only made it about halfway through the film the first time, I pretty much had the same reaction as kitty did with regard to Mr. Morrissey's now-fabled 'do therein:
After the second viewing, I have to say that I was even more amused to note how his hair seems to become progressively worse over the course of the film, too. (I was rather partial to the quiffy mullet, myself, but maybe that's just because the little sigh he gives after the teenage object of his desire compliments it absolutely sent a flaming arrow straight through my left ribcage.)
Another point in the film that really affected me was the part with the elderly former dancing teacher who has lost a leg; when she takes out her beautiful shoes and puts one on her remaining good leg, that scene brought tears to my eyes, because I know so well the feeling of despair that accompanies a memento of one's past that symbolises the way one has been irrevocably changed forever.
Unsurprisingly, I also was reminded of my mom a lot--although she didn't have Alzheimer's, she did have dementia that increasingly worsened over the last few years of her life--and especially because most of my family were in varying degrees of denial and bargaining about her condition, I kind of had to be the default pragmatist (nature abhors a vacuum, etc.). As a result, I really liked how the film pointed out that when you're dealing with a dementia patient, there's no use trying to impose reality on them; you just have to roll with whatever version of reality they've got going on that day.
On a lighter note, the "Come On Eileen" sequence was absolutely priceless (though I wished it had lasted longer--jeez, where's a ten-inch dance remix when you need one?). Overall, I really loved seeing Mr. Morrissey in a role that not only showcased his priceless capacity for goofiness (with a heapin' helpin' o' flawed vulnerability at no extra charge) but also was quite some ways removed from his usual "tormented everyman" roles.
Again, I really wish he'd do more offbeat stuph like this (instead of yet more law-enforcement-type parts *sigh*) but hey, the guy's got a family to feed...though as I recently commented at LJ, I'd like to see his next movie take place in a 1970's gay bathhouse, so clearly my judgment in such matters is fairly questionable anyway.
