Author Archives: Marya E. Gates
Reflecting on “La grande bellezza”
“To travel is very useful, it makes the imagination work, the rest is just delusion and pain. Our journey is entirely imaginary, which is its strength.” Céline, Journey to the End of the Night
When I wrote about this film for my Favorite Fifteen Films of 2013 post, I was brief and said the film could only be a film. This is part of why I loved it. The visuals, the sumptuousness, the pure cinema of it all.
But, really, the main reason I loved this film was how much I related to the main character Jep. Now, as many of you who follow me know, I’m quite often bored by woe-is-me stories of men. I am an advocate for women’s voices and feel they are underrepresented, misunderstood and often forgotten. So, I can see how saying I related to a story about a 65-year-old man’s existential life crisis could seem bizarre.
But I think some themes are so universal, or maybe so personal, they exist beyond gender specificity. That’s the case with Jep’s story, at least for me.
In the film, Jep wrote one powerful novel in his late-20s and then gave up on literary glory, settling for a cushy job writing cultural columns and hosting lavish parties. Jep is a bit of a hedonist, but at his core, he’s a man who values sensual experiences, be they visual, aural, literary, edible, sexual, etc – the beauty of living, if you will.
What the viewer discovers as the film – and Jep – unfolds himself, is that Jep is not suffering because he can’t find that mysterious great beauty (that’s love, folks) – but that he found it when he was young, lost it and has yet to come to terms with his inability to feel anything as deeply again.
I’ve talked briefly about myself on this site since its inception in 2009, which was a year of great changes for me. In the (nearly) five years since, I’ve gone through a lot of other changes – schooling, location, job, etc. But, like Jep, as hard as I try, there’s a moment in my life from 2008 that changed everything about me. A feeling once felt, but (so far) never again. Will I cling to it for another forty years like Jep? I don’t know. Will I ever let go of it for good? Probably not.
Movie Quote of the Day – Martha Marcy May Marlene, 2011 (dir. Sean Durkin)
Patrick: You know that death is the most beautiful part of life, right? Death is beautiful because we all fear death. And fear is the most amazing emotion of all because it creates complete awareness. It brings you to now, and it makes you truly present. And when you’re truly present, that’s nirvana. That’s pure love. So death is pure love.
Movie Quote of the Day – Tommy Boy, 1995 (dir. Peter Segal)
Tommy: Richard? Is this your coat? [laughs]
Richard: Don’t do it.
Tommy: Fat guy in a little coat. Fat guy in a little coat.
Richard: Don’t.
Tommy: [singing] Fat guy in a little coat. / Fat guy in a little coat.
Richard: Take it off, dickhead, I’m serious!
Tommy: Richard! What’s happening? [coat rips] Uh oh!
Female Filmmaker Friday: Making Mr. Right, 1987 (dir. Susan Seidelman)
After I watched Desperately Seeking Susan a few weeks back, multiple people said I needed to follow it up with this little gem of a sci-fi romantic comedy.
Movie Quote of the Day – Seven Sweethearts, 1942 (dir. Frank Borzage)
Albert Van Maaster: What shall it be sir?
Henry Taggart: Black coffee.
Albert Van Maaster: And?
Henry Taggart: And hurry!
Albert Van Maaster: What about your lunch?
Henry Taggart: What about my coffee?
Albert Van Maaster: Well, coffee’s no lunch! Coffee contains no calories, no nourishment. . .
Henry Taggart: That’s right, and I want a large cup of it!
Movie Quote of the Day – Requiem for a Dream, 2000 (dir. Darren Aronofsky)
Sara Goldfarb: I almost fit in my red dress. The one I wore to your high school graduation. The one your father liked so much. Oh, I remember how he looked at me in that red dress.
Harry Goldfarb: Ma, what’s the big deal about the red dress?
Sara Goldfarb: I’m going to wear it at. . . You don’t know! I’m gonna be on television. I got a call and an application. . .
Harry Goldfarb: Come on, Ma, who’s pulling your leg?
Sara Goldfarb: No, no, no. I’m tellin’ ya. I’m gonna be a contestant on television. They haven’t told me when yet, but you’ll be proud when you see your mother in her red dress on TV.
Harry Goldfarb: What is the big deal?. Those pills will kill you before you get on.
Sara Goldfarb: “Big deal?” You drove up in a cab. Did you see who had the best seat? I’m somebody now, Harry. Everybody likes me. Soon. . .millions of people will see me and they’ll all like me. I’ll tell them about you and your father. How good he was to us. Remember? It’s a reason to get up in the morning. It’s a reason to lose weight, to fit in the red dress. It’s a reason to smile. It makes tomorrow all right. [sighs] What have I got, Harry? Hmm? Why should I even make the bed or wash the dishes? I do them, but why should I? I’m alone. Your father’s gone, you’re gone. I got no one to care for. What have I got, Harry? I’m lonely. I’m old.
Harry Goldfarb: You got friends, Ma.
Sara Goldfarb: It’s not the same. They don’t need me. I like the way I feel. I like thinking about the red dress and the television and you and your father. Now when I get the sun, I smile.



























