I even saw that science fiction film in the morning, wonder of wonders.
Plus, it was -not- at the AMC, but at NCG.
That means I paid for it.
Totally worth it!
The movie was "The Life Of Chuck", made last year but catching a lot of buzz on TV for the past week or so.
Fair warning: for those planning to see it, kindly don't read farther.
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It wasn't until the second part that I caught on that this was scifi.
From the previews, it comes off as a romance - nope, not at all.
The narrator spoke of the main character being at the point where he has nine months left to live due to the brain tumor that has begun giving him headaches.
Nine months.
That got my attention.
I had just watched as The Universe had begun its downward spiral toward oblivion, with the timeline being just over eight months before total annihilation.
In the first part - titled Act 3 - the movie begins on an apocalyptic note, with a side of Walt Whitman, of all things.
It's an English literature class and a student is reciting the following line from his poem, "Song Of Myself".
"I am large, I contain multitudes."
That line is from the penultimate section of the 52-part piece.
Did I say 52, like the number of weeks in a year?
I did.
That number also ties in with the Carl Sagan's concept of the cosmic calendar, which portrays the life of The Universe in terms of a 52-week, 12-month calendar.
The literature teacher discusses that topic in some detail with his ex-wife in a phone conversation when she calls in distress about all the mayhem in the world.
He was trying to put into perspective the time that humans have existed.
What mayhem would that be?
The total loss of the internet eight months earlier; the sliding of California in the Pacific Ocean while Florida is covered by the Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico; the loss of TV service in the following months; the loss of cell phone service soon after; the loss of electricity as the world goes dark; then, in the last moments, the winking out of the stars and planets as Earth fails to exist.
That truly was stunning to watch.
Flash forward to the final part of the movie, titled "Act 1".
The title character's early life is detailed there.
He learns about the love of dancing, and of musicals, from his paternal grandmother.
He learns about the cosmic calendar while watching Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" with his paternal grandfather, who also teaches him about the value of numbers and math, in both accounting and dancing.
(He lived with both of them after his father and pregnant mother died in a car wreck.)
He learns about that Walt Whitman's long-winded poem, even having a discussion about "I contain multitudes" with his teacher.
That's when I truly identified with the theme of this story.
The teacher told him the phrase meant that everyone he ever knew, everyone in his periphery, everyone beyond their periphery, everyone everywhere beyond their degrees of separation from him, were all contained within the bounds of his mind.
Wow.
I've mused about that a time or two in the past.
Everyone lives in their own world anyway, right?
What if... everything in the world is just part of my imagination?
What if... the world I live in is part of someone else's imagination?
What if... my being a volunteer at the Lucas Theatre for the "Frost On Leaves Of Grass" concert was not for my benefit, but for that of the conductor?
What if... my being a volunteer at the Green Room for the Savannah Music Festival practice was not for my benefit, but for that of the pianist?
What if... all of that only existed in my mind???
Indeed.
Those two acts tied together nicely, but what was the middle one, as Otto would ask?
That was pure joy, driven by the absolute wonder of being alive on a blue sky day!
"Act 2" was stand-alone, but tied together the entire movie.
It was also the only part of the film that justified the "R" rating.
That's because variations of my favorite word were liberally strewn about.
What word is that?
The F-bomb, f*ck, f&ck, f-ck... yeah, that one.
The word only was used there, but used repeatedly by the narrator.
Trust me, it was warranted to set the mood of the female dancer.
Yes, I said 'dancer', as that was her profession.
It was not his, though.
'Charles Krantz' was an accountant, in town just for a conference, and out for a stroll in the brilliant afternoon sunshine after a full morning of lectures inside a building.
Then he hears the drummer busking on the street, just outside the building he was approaching, and something bid him pause.
Had he recognized the face reflected in the glass as that of the vision he had seen when he was just 17, when he'd entered the room his grandpa had marked off limits?
Of course, I wouldn't have been privy to that vision until "Act 1" came later.
Was it, then, the combination of the promise of the spring day and the insistence of the beat that prompted him to drop his briefcase and move his body?
I know very well that feeling!
In fact, ask Tony Clark sometime about me dancing to his drumming at an Eat Mo' Music concert at Jazz'd Tapas over two decades ago, when his beats had inspired my dancing which had inspired his continued artistry with the drum kit as everyone else became spectators watching me and him until he finished the music - such a crystallized memory!!!
And so I rejoiced when the dancing accountant and the street performer had continued their musical conversation, changing up to new steps and a new beat that encouraged the half-moon of those gathered around to sway to the sound under the glowing sun!
And I rejoiced when the young woman having a bad day consented to join him as he danced, allowing her mood to brighten and all there to release their troubles and cares and simply live vicariously in the two dancers!
They only had the one dance, that brief sparkling moment in time, but it linked the trio - him, her, the drummer - after the crowd had dispersed back into their own lives.
And why had he chosen to dance that day?
We learn that in the final part of the movie.
"That is why God made the world."
Wow.
That ties in exactly with the message from another movie:
"We have to dance to let God know we are grateful to be alive."
Kudos to Tom Hiddleston as the dancer!
I don't recall seeing him dance in "Midnight In Paris", but I knew his face was familiar.
That movie from 2011 had revolved around Owen Wilson's character and the many people from the literary past that he met.
Very enjoyable, both that one and this one.
What a lovely way to start my Tina Tuesday!
i thank You, God!
