Monday 29 April 2013

The Place Beyond The Pines - Synecdoche




I like the brooding, wild Ryan Gosling. That said, in The Place Beyond The Pines (dir. Derek Cianfrance), his character Luke, is chaotic. Incredibly physical, from the striding walk, the tattoos and ability to push his body and mind, while mounted on a motorbike, to the relationship with his son's mother. His emotional self is determined, his yearning to be a good father is painfully real and heartbreaking. When he discovers he has a son, Luke's new role becomes his purpose. But all of this doesn't necessarily work to make a happy family. Luke discovers that the route he follows in order to provide, becomes something that can only force him apart from his son. Too late.

The second chapter of the film focuses on the policeman, Bradley Cooper. Avery and Luke both hold a sort of intensity that makes you believe in them, to gun for them. It's in the gaze, in the furrowed brow and nonchalant expression, juxtaposed with the eyes. It's his quest to better the world, but meanwhile losing a relationship with his son. It's guilt, mixed with hope. 

The final chapter meets the two sons – Avery and Luke's – and comes with a sense of loss and fulfilment. Making for a film that provokes, saddens and most importantly, engages with a feeling that we can't ever control every aspect of our lives. That emotions can rule even the strongest of minds, and that the physical body rules above all and makes for our physical existence. So, switch this round: where we take our body, can free the mind and in turn, make our emotions even more visceral and real.


Friday 26 April 2013

Kid

No time for nappin'. Wake up! News!

Before I set up this particular blog, I created two others. Complete with email addresses, log in details, simple yet complicated passwords and maybe a draft post or two. Then, within 24 hours I had forgotten all the details completely. Blogs lost, I considered if I was in fact a stereotype. Then, on both occasions I discovered a chocolatey surprise in my bag, made a cup of tea, read, observed and nearly cried as I virtually toured around someone's home online because it was clean, fresh, white and the sun appeared to be shining through their enormous period-feature-ridden windows, all the while rubbing my back, because eeesh it was sore. Perhaps I am a stereotype. Perhaps this is just what it's like.

Dear Reader, I'm having a baby. 

I want to (and will) say 'kid'. But I was told that kid means goat. But it is a kid, it's already a person. In both scans when we saw the little thing it was sucking its thumb, having a little riot. Not wriggling around to exactly where it was supposed to be for the scan lady to measure it's baby head, spine, arms, legs. Apparently, we: "have the naughtiest baby," they've "seen in the whole of 2013!". And: "you have yourself a diva baby". Which is just marvellous. I for one, was exceptionally proud that I have within me a diva baby and hope (within reason), it strives out in impassioned diva ways for all of its hopefully, wonderful and joy-filled life.

I could move on to The Reactions of various people, things to (serious tone) consider, but to be honest I think it doesn't matter. Mr Tiger and myself will be the ones showing and teaching this kid about the adventure that is life. I dreamt I was teaching it all about AFRICA the other night, as it gurgled before me. I can't wait to see eyes widen as we explore jungles, meet lions and take trips to the moon on special helicopters made from spaghetti. Of course, I'm concerned Monsieur Tiger will play only Jazz, 60s artists that 'hummm' and some trashy catchy songs he hears in his carshare on his commute to work. As well as the very real possibility that I'll buy too many ridiculous outfits for kidlet. Also, the classic scenario of one parent being the wild one, riding the waves and jumping from heights and the other (me), the holder of plasters and doc leaves. But I mean, pish, whatever. It's learning right?

So, we're 20 weeks down. Which means in 20 weeks (ish?), we'll meet the diva. What's that, four and a half months? I'm keen to get a snazzy pushchair with tractor wheels, a giant mushroom lamp and a sheepskin sling, but we've just got a couple of books so far. I love them, so cute. A baby.