I think I had to watch Un Flic by Jean-Pierre Melville for A level French. That might explain why I stopped caring about it halfway through just now and switched off my daily movie to write this to you instead. It’s the first one I’ve given up on.
I guess I don’t have to get something out of everything I watch on Mubi, and frankly I’m pretty tired of French movies as I’m always comparing my version to theirs.
I want something epic in either English or q language I know nothing of. Kurosawa’s “Ran” just came on today, so maybe I’ll go to that tomorrow instead of watching a Brian de Palma scare flick. But then as soon as I bring choice into it then I’ll start overthinking. Maybe best to stick with my discipline of watching whatever film is leaving every day. That’s how you get surprises. And occasionally, as now, how you get bored and switch off.
Knowing I need to tidy, I instead decided to spend time cooking. I cooked up some Hake with tomato millet, and put way too many capers in the salsa verde.
Then I ate it in a tiny patch of cleared space at the dining room table. I can tidy tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow.
I haven’t left the house all day. Not even to buy booze. This was a deliberate ploy by daytime Al to foil nighttime Al’s inevitable desire to consume an entire bottle of wine. The only wine I’ve got in the house is special and I’m strong enough to leave it well alone. Perhaps, had I been tiddly, I would have enjoyed Un Flic more. Sober it was all too slow and self-important and French, and everybody was interchangeable.
I do love film though, from around the world, from through the ages. I think it adds to the joy of a good movie when you have a finger on the artifice behind it. It’s like when you go to the theatre and see a wonderfully executed trick. Some moments of artifice will stay with me forever.
I think I also found Un Flic hard to watch because the bastards kept on going into restaurants and bars and art galleries in Paris. I really want to be going into restaurants and bars and art galleries in Paris!
I know that this time will be valuable if I activate it. Now that The Tempest is on a backburn for a while, I can really make sense of my home without the guilt I might normally have about doing something that doesn’t involve chasing the magical actingfish. The only other thing that’ll benefit me is to get a showreel cut nicely before this all opens up again. When the doors open, every unit in UK television will be filming off the scale to catch up on content. My calling card is weak – it still has a montage, which is considered a crime against showreels. And it can pretty much all go in the bin in favour of better recent footage.
Things to do. What will I do? Stay tuned for the next episode of “Al somehow finds anything to occupy his time but for the tidying of his personal space.”