January 30, 2006

Is That Our 12 Year Old Self In The Mirror?

Diane and Lloyd have coffee as friends with potential

Cinecultist has been battling with this terrible cough for the last week and honestly, it's wearing us out. We've been exhausted lately and over the weekend actually spent over 12 hours in bed one night. Fortunately for our debilitated state our favorite movie from junior high school was on AMC on Sunday morning, Say Anything. Surely you know how wonderful this flick is, but we'll just elaborate a little. (Also, to give this posting its proper Live Journal pre-teen feel we'll tell you that we've been blasting Morrissey, Depeche Mode and the Cure while writing this. Everyday is like Sunday! The Moz is so totally right.)

Your eyes, the light, the heat. Your eyes, I am complete.Say Anything is a movie CC saw in the theaters and countless times since, so almost every part of this movie is like an old friend. We were literally walking around our apartment, tidying a bit and doing the dishes while it was running yet still able to recite almost every line about 2 seconds before it was said on screen. It's a comfort blanket of a film.

Although oddly as we get older, CC is beginning to realize how very young and innocent Diane Court and Lloyd Dobler really are. When we were 12 of course, they seemed so mature and star-crossed in their love affair. We saw no sense of irony in the final moments of the film as they sit on the airplane to England, flying away to their future yet terrified of the prospect. Lloyd tells her that as long as they make it to the bing of the seat belt fastening sign turning off they will know the flight will be fine. Director Cameron Crowe lingers on their faces, pursed in anxiety for a moment too long as a commentary on youthful idealism. It's affective stuff despite being a little ham-fisted in its sweetness.

Also, we noticed much more recently how completely over the top and hilarious Lili Taylor's performance as Corey is. At the big party, she's not going to talk to Joe (Loren Dean), the dopey cute boy who broke her heart and caused her to write 65 sad songs for him. Yet, as soon as he corners her by the beer refrigerator (how much do you love the light bathed on those two young actors?) she declares "you invade my soul." Your usual high school banter, right? Then, after Lloyd and Diane's big first time she has such earnest council for Lloyd. Someday, many years from now Lloyd may see Diane on the street, they'll talk, or whatever but what he'll be thinking is "we had sex," she declares. Isn't it grand when life seems so sweeping? When to tell your best friend, "don't be a guy, the world is filled with guys -- be a man," is the deepest thing ever?

Lots of people of my generation rhapsodize about the boombox over the head moment in this film as the penultimate in romantic gestures. But here's another thing we've discovered as we grow older than the characters in our favorite movies from childhood: romance doesn't really come in sweeping, grand gestures. It's trickles out in little glances and moments. It builds like a stalactite until it's hang smack dab in the middle of your living room.

Still the best exchange ever: "Give me my Firebird keys! You must chill! You must chill. I have hidden your keys. Chill. I love you man. All right. I love you too, go to sleep. Before I budge. All right." [sound of drunk Jeremy Piven smacking into the ground.]

Posted by karen at January 30, 2006 10:58 PM