Thursday, 16 March 2017

Don't get it.

I may have actually come across a film I could not understand. This doesn’t usually happen to me. It must have been all of those brain-numbing Schwartzwald pancakes I’ve eaten.

I should watch it again, slower, with darker coffee. The film is called Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Normally, this sort of a flick would be right up my alley (that sounded way filthier than I wanted it too, but it's in line with the plot) – it’s about unique expressive identity, personal tragedy, art or something like it, it had bitter humour and some great scenes (The Korean Army wife band was outstanding :D ).

And yet … what the fuck is this? What is the point of all the suffering, all that betrayal, that illusion of some sort of catharsis, the whole strong, humorous take on life of a person who is so incredibly sad and broken, without any hope of ever being happy again? The show of it? The art of it? My all-time favourite movie is about drag queens doing cabaret, so, from that perspective, I should totally dig all these sacrifices of character, hand-jobs to underage teenage boys, botched castrations, rejection, frustration, sexual prejudice, East Germany vibe, and hallucinations with ambiguous endings … Still… not happening. I just don’t get it. I’ve read up a lot on the movie. Still. Don’t get it.

… Or is it just an incredibly tragic movie about inconsolable loneliness, betrayal and ultimate surrender to the inevitability of anonymous death? …