I am not sure why although I think that it was because Mr. Anderson seemed to be so completely entranced with his beautiful sets and settings that his characters and story, for me, never quite coalesced. The charm of the Wes Anderson movie to my mind lies not just in the amazingly colorful palette he uses nor the whimsy and dear details he employees, but mostly in the faces of his actors and the stories those faces portray, so very often more by expression than by dialogue.
And his actors are always people with very strong facial characteristics (with a few exceptions). They have great, grand noses and deep, dark eyes and even if they are beautiful, in the Hollywood sense, he manages to make even that stereotype of classic attractiveness somehow strangely interesting which I think makes them all the more beautiful than any glamor-shot role could possibly do.
Of course I think that Bill Murray embodies this entire concept better than anyone. The man can do more with his face than any Shakespearean actor I've ever seen to transmit an emotion. Have you ever seen Broken Flowers?
And somehow, some of that was missing from The Grand Budapest Hotel although the face of Tony Revolori with his magnificent profile almost made up for it all.
I have to admit that I have always been a lover of interesting noses. I remember those nights in the old Carlo's-n-Charlies in Cozumel, looking around the room at people from all over the world and thinking, "Oh. The noses!"
Mr. Moon has often wondered aloud at how I fell in love with him with his mostly not-unusual nose and I suppose that his huge heart had to suffice.
Anyway, la-di-dah. I loved the movie. And I sat in the theater between two women whom I adore and don't get to see nearly as often as I'd like and we all laughed at the same times and we all groaned at the same times and we all giggled at the same times and it was a very fine 100 minutes of my life.
And so I left Lloyd and not only went to see a movie but bought a bale of hay which Mr. Moon is slightly perturbed with me about (okay, more like really pissed off) for putting in the trunk of my car even though I put a sheet down first because YOU CAN NEVER REALLY VACUUM ALL THAT HAY OUT OF THERE but fuck it. I needed hay so I can clean out my hens' nests and the chick's little house and I did what I did.
And when I got home, I hauled the hay bale out and set it in the hen house to use tomorrow and now I'm going to go cook up a bunch of vegetables to go on a frozen pizza. In the vein of Eating All Healthy and Shit, I give you a picture of what I ate for lunch.
That salad included everything from arugula I picked from the garden to mango and apples and kamut and edamame beans.
It's been a good day and oh! here's a picture of some of the wild azalea which is blooming in the woods right now and which I took on my walk this morning.
Still, the anxiety has been looming so large that I think I am going to call my NP tomorrow to see if I can increase my dose of the antidepressant. I had a six-weeks taste of what life can be like without living in terror and quite frankly, I would like to go back there again.
I can function with it but it's a thin line between worth it and not.
Even living in a world with Wes Anderson movies and beautiful noses and wild azaleas and women I love.
Yours truly...Ms. Moon