Unique New York

Just like a regular woman, only crankier.

Friday, April 08, 2005


I know I have depression, and I have had it since I was 14. I have had it steadily for 11 years, with some exacerbations here and there. I am in the middle of a slight dip in my mood because of illness, and so I bought some films since I am too weak to do much else.

I bought "The Hours" since I had read the book one night when I was babysitting for a friend. I remember reading it and feeling moderately uplifted when it was through. I was sort of excited to watch the film, since by now I had completely forgotten the book. The cover seems menacing, so I wanted to be sure I could handle it since I really don't need to be extra depressed.

Good Lord.

Is everybody in the world that transparent? The whole film felt like I couldn't come up for air. Every moment was so tension filled with hardly any release. There were no moments when people sounded reasonable without the audience having to doubt the agenda. It was like pathological depression...manipulative depression. I am not entirely sure what the point was. I felt terrible for the other characters who were not so contemplative as the centrally depressed people.

And frankly, life is not always about being on the verge of tears and blinking them back. Life is much more silly. And growing older is not always the end of the story. Also, suicide attempts and ideation are not as prevalent, either. What the hell? I wanted to shout at the characters for being so whiny.

I had no empathy for the depression, which in a depressed person, means you have no empathy for yourself. I finished the film even though it intimidated me since my life is so internal at the moment. I finished it waiting for the message. However, the message was so imbalanced compared to the bulk of the film. The message is, take life for what it is, and love it anyway. But, then the last shot is Virginia drowning herself in the river....which hardly seems like a good way of accepting life for what it is.

The imagery is so vivid, but every moment is weighted heavily against all other moments. I know that was partially the point, but there is a reason that people take moments for granted. If you swallow them whole all at once, all of life become indigestible. Sometimes, you have to just ignore details, which this movie had no intention of doing. Life has much more small talk, and more people who engage in meaningless pleasantries. I could never predict what someone was going to say. Though the dialogue was creative, it felt unrealistic. The small talk of daily life helps to lighten the load. It was like watching a movie about depression filmed from the perspective of an autistic.


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