A fair share of movie over the long weekend, perferably nothing to do with work, in which case is quite rare in my schedule for the past few weeks. Other than the supposed plan of house-hunting and weekend sex, I did none of it yet. Saturday is coming to an end and sitting alone in Coffeebean delivering the most un-happening lifestyle ever. Thus enough of my story and refresh the story of the movies I’ve watched since noon time. Today I participated in the international movie marathon (not that there’s anything like that ever exist, somewhat like a marathon on movies like Matrix and Lord of the Ring. I know it can be morbid!
Mon petit doigt m’a dit (By the Pricking of My Thumbs), a fictional drama. Wicked. Mysterious. Everything but ordinary. It was a twisted version of one of those adverturous storybook you read when you are young. The plot is simple. But simple is good, especially when you are watching a movie that you have to constantly read the subtitles. It is not the only reason for the like of its simplicity. Simple speech. Simple country scene. Simple casts. Simple police-and-theif investigation. Simple homocide. But then again like many simplicity that we know, it hides the greatest extraordinary of all. Somewhat like how a small tranquil town is never as soothing and calm as it seems.
And finally before my retreat to the wireless, Fauteuils d’orchestre (Avenue Montaigne) kicks in with a enjoyable, light-hearted, passionate movie. The exciting city of Paris, so razzle dazzle. How magnificent. But behind the tuxedo and mink, there is the unrevealing truth of human struggle, of gratifying moment, of loving passion, of undying memory, of undeniable success, of family value. I trust that you will be applauding to the drama on screen as well as the drama in shown. Bon Appetite!
