
And today, an exceptionally warm August day in Rio, I watched the third part of my beloved 'Befores' trilogy. I had already read a lot about Before Midnight
My romantic young adult years loved Before Sunrise
My depressed underemployed overwhelmed Balzaquian self watched Before Sunset
My mommerish new-found-writer tipping over the edge thirty-nineish self is sighing uncertain of how much I did like Before Midnight

And the problem is exactly that: I relate too much to these movies. I read somewhere that they picture a generation and blah, blah, blah but the other two were dreamy to me. This is one is the raw reality.
I am married to my Jessy - or Mr Darcy - for 16 years + and we have been through rough patches, also effing good moments but both of us would like things to be better or different in many levels. And we fight. And we give ourselves another chance.
Celine may be the Fucking Mayor of Crazy Town as Jessy accused her of being, and you know what? I'm the sherif. When their fight went out of proportion I caught myself thinking that she was over reacting to something that I could not put a finger on, but that I was sure was going to be explained. When it was, it was me...
The guy had time to write, take long strolls under the olive trees and chat with his fellow literate friends. She had been spending the days making dinner, squirting sunscreen on the girls, bffing his son. When he says he saw her frolicking on the beach and pushing greek salad down her throat I thought: I'm gonna cry.

Anger, overwhelming frustration, rage and a need to fight back. Celine says she arrives home from work and babysit, work and babysit, work and babysit. Me, me, me...
And then I saw that on this movie, they are mostly trapped. In the car, having lunch, hotel room. The other movies, they wandered, free and aimless. See where I'm getting?
It ends as a loving couple's fight ends: giving a second chance. I guess I needed them to show me the way.
In reality, I need time to digest this movie as I did after the other two. From sunset I need almost a week... A movie hangover.
Where's my Chilean wine?
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Can I have a six pack, please? |
Disclaimer: all images are Google and excuse me, I'm hangover.
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