Lost in Translation 2
Brooding weather again. I went to the movies and saw "The Station Agent", a film that was highly recommended by a friend of mine. It is not really your regular American movie: no violence, no car chases, no sex scenes. It is simply about friendship. It tells a story of three outsiders who meet by chance in a small town in the middle of nowhere: a man born with dwarfism hooked on trains, a depressed lady who feels guily about the loss of her only child, and a talkative hot dog vendor. Fin, the little guy, is tired of being viewed as an oddity. Olivia is tired of being regarded with pity because of her loss. And Joe just wants to talk, talk, talk. Although they are completely different, they come to a deep understanding of each other, and find comfort in being alone together. And that is all, with not too much words and not too much dialogues. It is beautiful.
When the lights were turned on again, I looked around the half empty theater and realized that by some kind of coincidence, most people there had come to see the movie on their own. I felt a sudden urge to greet others, introduce myself, as if watching alone a movie about friendship had given us a common territory to share, the territory of our own isolation. Why are we all here alone in a Saturday afternoon? Hey, lady, do you have someone waiting for you at home? Mister, you with the gray hair, do you have children who visit you? A cat? I can tell you about my castles in the sky, my own sense of loss, my disorientation. Maybe we could all go to the next door café and have a cup of coffee in this nippy afternoon.
Of course, I didn't even try to do that. I went to the next door café by myself and had a cup of coffee with a pear chocolate brownie, with vanilla ice cream on the side. And I kept wondering why true communication is so magical, so fragile and so ephemerous. And how painful it is when you lose the little you once achieved.
5 Comments:
I really like the concept of the movie...
and I guess they prefer to be called lttle people instead of dwarf (from a movie 'Tiptoes' I currently watched)...
sometimes I felt like talking to a person next to me, strike a good conversation, despite the stranger have no idea who the hell I was, but being a shy me, and typical minded people might just think I'm nuts...
and so the most I could share was a sweet sincere smile, altho most of the time, I would get ignored...
but hey, it lies deep in us to be sincere or not... gosh, I missed going to the movies with my friends and sipping coffee afterwards...
btw, your pear chocolate brownie plus vanilla ice cream on the side sounds tempting...
Abby, I changed my post to more PC terms. The little guy in the movie referred to himself as "dwarf" a couple of times, so I wasn't really aware that this was not the best term.
And the brownie was heavenly! Once in a while we have a right to drown in a chocolate sea!
i'm comfortable with going to the movies on my own and having a cup of coffee in a cafe accompanied by only a book. but i'm also comfortable with striking a conversation with a total stranger. that's just me.
as for the tale...i've always thought of myself as an OWL. but a smart and intelligent OWL. what i cannot achieve with my looks i can with my wit. so often times, these strangers i encounter find me pleasant and interesting only after talking to me but never at first glance. however, i do not flee just because i'm an OWL:)
I go once or twice to the movies a week, and usually I go by myself. If I were to expect to have company first to do things, I think I would never have left my home. I used to travel to Europe every year by myself, and I really appreciated it. Sometimes, I met nice people on the way and we became travel companions for a while.
Bibi, by the way you describe yourself, I don't think you are an OWL. I believe you are some other kind of bird. ;-) The thing about Owls is that they are so focused on their own (imaginary) ugliness that they cannot truly relate to the world outside. It is more or less like letting a drop of chocolate ice cream fall on a white shirt. One can spend most of the time sure that the whole world is looking at the dirt, as if the dirty spot became the most important thing to be seen. Running into the woods is an integral part of being an Owl. I believe we all eventually have Owl moments, letting love run through our fingers, and not even noticing it.
as much as i hate to say this...i dont think i'm an OWL either. as u said..i may have my OWL moments but to say that i wallow like a hippopotamus in the non-pleasantness of my features, that's totally not my repertoire.
vacation to europe...i only wish...*sigh*
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