Beasts of the Southern Wild

So I went to the cinema in the village hall.  It was cold, it was wet and I was tired.  It was all too tempting to stay in by the fire but I’ve made a pact with myself to do stuff.

I can’t just sit around waiting for things to happen.  Well, I can (and I do) but, equally, I’ve decided to go out, to do things, to go places.  And if it means I do them alone, then so be it. Because if you hang around waiting for other people, well, nothing much will happen. Will it?

I don’t mind doing stuff on my own and solo film-going is positively wondrous. It was something I did a lot when I lived in London, having developed a penchant for solo matinee trips to the Orson Welles cinema off Harvard Square in Cambridge during my American sojourn. I’d vanish for the afternoon to catch things like the Bergman season. Nice.

Anyhow, I liked the sound of this film.  Beasts of the Southern Wild. It’s about a girl called Hushpuppy who lives with her sick, depressed, alcoholic mess of a father in a place called The Bathtub, in the bayoux of Louisiana.  Life’s pretty well weird and tough enough for Hushpuppy but then Katrina comes and everything turns even weirder and tougher.  Anyhow, see it yourself - see what you feel.  

To be honest, I usually prefer a nice anonymous cinema but the Dulverton Film Club has one distinct advantage: a bar.

‘Hello, Jane. What can I get you?’

That’s the joy/problem with small town life – everyone knows who you are.

‘Bottle of red, please, Keith. Something not too heavy.’

We had a little debate and he passed over a bottle.  ‘How many glasses?’

‘Just the one.’ I grinned.  Ears pricked.  But, frankly, who cares? 

So I sat in the front row (cos a downside of village hall cinema is the lack of tiered seats and I’m not wild about getting a cricked neck from peering around the head in front) and happily glugged my way through the trailers and then a short called Glory at Sea (by the same collective responsible for Beasts) which, let’s be honest, had me in tears. 

 

And then Beasts started and…yeah, I cried a bit in that too. But the beauty of cinema is that it’s dark and nobody sees you cry.  Did I enjoy it?  No.  Enjoy is the wrong word.  It’s a strange film, dark and lorn and sad and fierce.  But I’m glad I saw it.  And I scribbled in my notebook, as I do. Can you scribble in the dark?  Of course. Sometimes I draw too.  *smile*. 

“The whole universe depends on everything fitting together just right.  If you can fix the broken piece, everything can go right back to alright. But sometimes you break something so bad, it can’t be put back together.”

Yeah. That's about right.

So then…you need a boat. The right kind of boat.  “This boat will take you exactly where you need to be. It’s that kind of boat.”

So, what next?  I don’t know. Whatever comes up.  Whatever boat catches my eye.  

But more trips for sure and certain. Cos, much as I love travelling to amazing places in my mind, it’s time to get out there and see, smell, hear, taste and touch for real.  So, I’m making things happen.  Not Louisiana.  Not yet.  Next up is Austria.  Mountains.  Then…who knows where? I’m open to offers. Cos the world can’t come to you, but you can go out to the world. Right?