Mmmm, I saw the Hours. V.nice movie. Its like an older, more reasoned out version of the Virgin SUicides in which not that many people die. I especially liked Moore and Kidman's roles, I loved hearing the commentary from the three actresses although it downlplayed how palpable thier acting was.
However, despite it being very complciated with many twists and parallels as the director and screenwriter coudl muster, I enjoyed it immensely although I think viewers would need a little background on the novel by Cunningham.

There are so many quoes from the movie that I adore but here it one that gave my heart a flutter:

Woolf: Dear Leonard, to loo life in the face, always, to look life in the face, and to know it for what it is. At last to know it, to love it, for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard, always the yars between us, always the years, always the love, always...the hours...

That's the last line of the entire movie and it ends just perfectly, 'book-end' juxtaposition, reflecting back on how the movie began, with Woolf's suicide. She descends into the river with rocks weighing in her coat pockets, weightin her down. She walks right into the middle and looks down it, while she is still narrating from an un-reading part of the letter. Absolutely beautiful, the light, everything especially her wispy voice almost breaking. And then finally the title of the film, brilliant. (And of the original name of Mrs Dalloway)

Things that i myself made connects with the first time I saw it, the egg breaking, a nice paralel between Woolf and Vaughn. The shell breaking I think for both women is a pre-meditation towards their breakdown, Woolf seems caught out like a rabbit under a spotlight, terrified. Of course the sudden sharp soun dis causing an effect too, showing the routine embedded in each women's mind. Just a thought I picked up on my travels.

Le'see, I'll give it an 8.5. I tlost two because hell, I lost interest in Streep's character very quickly, she gives it a lot but I felt time was tken from the other two who deeply interested me. The modern woman and her psycho lover were both complicated and sometimes I felt parts of their roles were like skits as daughter and friend (of Streep's) were only cameos. Also, plot lost it at the end, as Leonard had promised Virginia he would take her back to London and then in the next scene we see Woolf killing herself? Other than some continuity and some cracks in editing, a purely vuluptous tale of the hours (in a woman's life, it seems).

~ M.M.W ~

PS: I felt it was owed a journal entry. Shall post my daily extract next. Nearly tommorow. Yee!
Schnugged at 23:20 |