I semi-watched the Oscars last night along with many millions all over the world. It seems to have lost a lot of its mystique. More a marketing platform for Harvey Weinstein and a bunch of designers most people can’t afford. And Angelina Jolie is no Grace Kelly.
They kept trying to channel their past glory. The one part that did speak to me was various people talking about their early cinematic memories. The first film that I really remember clearly was Mary Poppins. I was very into magic in those days and who couldn’t love a word like supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. I still reference Mary Poppins when I am pulling an improbable amount of stuff out of my tiny, perfectly designed evening bag. Thank you, Longchamp 🙂
Most of my childhood movie memories are Disney films. My mom thought she was Walt’s missing daughter and we were brainwashed from an early age. They were perfect films for children and I do think cinema sparks your imagination and encourages you to dream.
I have meandered a very long distance from the life into which I was born. I am sure some of those early cinematic moments inspired me to think big. Once I got away from my mother’s strict parental controls, I went to see all sorts of films. My sheltered youthful self would watch European films in wide-eyed astonishment. Oh my god, they are naked! Is that even physically possible?
Somewhere along the line, I started to absorb those lessons so well that my real life began to resemble the stuff I saw on the screen. Often my real life adventures had a better script and cinematography. How the concept “life on planetm” developed. I would describe some recent adventure and my friends would say, “only on planetm!”
Shorthand for “that only happens in the movies”. Or in marla’s life. I started to dub them “cinematic moments.” A fragment of real life with the look and the script of something bigger than real life. My life has been full of cinematic moments. Not too many people are sitting in Madrid shortly after the movie “Vicky Christina Barcelona” had come out and overhear some American tourists talking about it and think, “I had my own “Vicky Christina Barcelona” film last night. I saw the real Spain. I thought the movie was far-fetched. But I just hadn’t met Spanish men :)”
How do you make your life cinematic? You take some chances. You talk to strangers. You develop fine-tuned skills for reading people so you can let loose a little but not come to any harm. You decide that after attending your 25 year college reunion, you will take advantage of the economic crisis and use your points for a business class ticket to Madrid. You will do your research and not act like a North American. So you will stay at the hippest hotel in Madrid. You will be in the bar around 9 waiting to go to dinner. You will not engage the boring American businessmen in conversation. So when the cute guy who is sitting next to you – also alone at the bar – buys you a drink, you will be able to talk to him. His name will be Javier. You will think, “I want to experience the real Madrid. And now I have Javier… a local.” You will eat octopus, throw your refuse on the floor in the tapas bar like the locals and you will end up in the rooftop bar on the top of your hotel overlooking Madrid on a perfect October evening at 4am – when the place is at its peak. Other crazy stuff will happen and you will come home with a story that Woody Allen would loved to have written.
So I don’t need to go to movies anymore. I produce them in my everyday life – and always get the starring role 🙂