Take This Waltz / The movie that ruined my life
It was the kind of artistic bullshit designed to make you love the onscreen couple. Flirty encounters, ridiculous games that only the two star-crossed lovers could enjoy, relationship-specific in-jokes designed to make the audience believe that this faux-romance between two otherwise strangers was the one thing most movie-goers crave, true love, filled the screen for the better part of 45 minutes. None of this was unique. I’d seen it before. We all have. Usually, it’s inane rubbish between two lead characters who I had seen fall in love time and time again with a variety of opposite characters. I felt I was immune to the flirtatious devices of inanimate couples who maintain the status quo of the “chick flick” genre. It’s different however,
WHEN IT’S A MOVIE ABOUT YOURSELF! *
Now, I say that with a slight (entire) degree of exaggeration but this movie has nonetheless shaken me (and the wife) to the core. The bullshit, flirty, ridiculous games etc were, by and large, the same antics we engage in to entertain ourselves. From the in-bed games of blocking each other’s eyes with the inner most sections of our mouths, to pissing the other off whilst in the midst of a telephone conversation with whatever means available, this film has stolen our relationship!
I eat chicken. I eat a lot of chicken. The film’s protagonist fucking eats chicken consistently – so much so, he is creating a cookbook for chicken-specific recipes. The prick was more me than me. They speak utter gibberish and understand it word for word. He is a gigantic goof ball who looks to make a joke out of everything – I’m a freakin’ Primary School teacher. I received a qualification for making a laugh out of the building blocks of life!
We sat in awe, humour, shock and horror as we watched our Canadian doppelgängers own the screen enlarged before us for two hours of our date-night-Wednesday. Torn between the desire to demand royalties upon the film’s conclusion and discover what happened with relationship between the protagonist and the (I can only assume) smelly neighbour, we decided to stay.
Shit got ridiculous when we looked into the overly dramatic, audio-visual mirror mimicking our relationship for the thousandth time when the wife turned to me and whispered (screamed) in jest/terror to me that “this movie is raping us.”
“We should leave” I jostled, unsure of the stature of my reply.
We stayed – probably because of the $18 entry fee, but also because when you’ve decided to view someone’s artistic endeavour, I suppose you should stay, out of respect and such things.
The result was an interesting film that dealt with its themes in a mature, particular (if sometimes cliche) fashion.
I’m not one for longwinded reviews, but I’ll say this.
In this film I found a sounding board for my long-held view on love and relationship.
There is no one person in the world for you to love. There is no “one true love.” It doesn’t exist. It is childish and unrealistic to think so.
I do choose to believe, however, that whilst there is not one true love in the world, there are people that we could not be happier being with. I look at my wife and I know, with everything that I am, that there is not a soul on Earth that I could be happier with.
Too many people try to fill their life with someone they love. Relationships will be fun in the beginning. Exciting, full of passion, unpredictable, bold, crazy, stupid, fun. These are fleeting moments. They are not how the human physche operates on a long-term basis. We must be content with who we are, what we are about, what we hope to achieve and experience. A partner to share these experiences is wonderful, but will not enable us to achieve “happiness.” Indeed, the belief that a partner can prove such emotions probably leads so many to stray from their partner. It is a never-ending pursuit, one to feel consistently giddy and excited.
The heroine of the film believes she has discovered this love in a hobo across the street. I’m not to say that she doesn’t end up happy with him, but she definitely will be no happier than she would have been if she had have stayed with her husband. I say this because she had not corrected the very flaw in her that led her to stray in the first place – she feels that another person will propel her to a positive outlook on life, better life experiences.
As her alcoholic sister-in-law propels at the end of the film, “life has a gap in it, it just does.”
We should not seek to fill gaps in our life with people to occupy our time, especially in lieu of ones we love. We must strive, instead, to love who we are and be content with ourselves. To seek to fill the gap with others is a meaningless pursuit that will only result in heartbreak – for ourselves and for others.
“The new gets old” – as our youth ages, relationships with those we love will age. They become more experienced and less unpredictable.
This is not true for love, only the symptoms of love. Butterflies in the tummy are a symptom of young love, their loss does not reflect the loss of love – only the reality that the love that once resided in the stomach now resides in the heart.
If only they didn’t steal our relationship to complete the film! Have you ever have your life stolen by the silver screen?