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I decided to spend St. Patrick's day with a difficult family tale of suppressed emotion, drinking and love affairs. No I didn't go back to the Bewley family homestead - though I did talk to my dad and I heard a funny story about him and a fence - but I'm speaking now of course of In The Bedroom.
Mr. Wilkinson makes a compelling case for Mr. Oscar, despite what our friend Daniel "sing a long" Lee likes to think. While Mr. Lee is on his Moulin Rouge high kick, and while I appreciated that fine turn by Ms. Kidman, Bedroom was a more emotionally charged movie with incredibly solid acting. The grieving sequence is great and hits the right notes of numb bitterness. Sissy Spacek's nose was pretty annoying - she looks more and more like a skull, but that is small potatoes. (get it - the Irish thing again - small potatoes - oh never mind).
All in all it's a short story that's been made into a beautiful film. Even the light is amazing, it's that same light that graced my cold pale skin as I took an early morning dump on our annual vacation in New England.
Also I dated an older woman for awhile and the opening shots of their kisses somehow made me go weak in the knees. So weak in fact I got drunk, called her on a payphone and told her I wanted to get back together. She hung up on me, but I hit redial about ten times, before I passed out and was woken up by the gentle lapping of a stray dog at 16th and Valencia.
Go see this film, it brings back great memories and may even make some new ones.
Bewley, out.
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