The thesis is having problems, I think. I mean, I am working on the conclusion, but I just don't have anything else to say. I am so tired of my own voice that I don't want to conclude anything.
Plus, this shit is not exactly the most uplifting of topics. So today I took a break from working on my (for many reasons) depressing conclusion and watched a gay romantic comedy that had gotten good reviews called The Bubble. It's by Eytan Fox, the Israeli director who also directed Yossi & Jagger and Walk on Water. Well, I thought it was a gay romantic comedy. Turns out, it's much more of a gay romantic drama. The film is set in modern-day Tel Aviv and it's a sort of Romeo & Romeo love story where one Romeo is a Palestinian and the other is an Israeli. It's actually filmed like a romantic comedy for most of the movie, too. I was going along with it and loving this movie, and then The Bubble turned on me and it got very serious all of a sudden. I suppose that a film about the Israeli occupation of Palestinian territory and suicide bombers entering Tel Aviv should not be all fun and games and anal sex, but this movie was not what I needed to make me smile after writing about the links between queer subjectivity and violence. I guess it isn't the movie's fault that I wanted it to be a romantic comedy, but I did and it wasn't.
Also caught Vincent Paronnaud & Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis. The animation is pretty, but there's no plot to this movie. It sort of started to drive me crazy after a while. Plus, the lack of plot means that there's no emotional hook for the film. Instead of following a narrative arc and involving me in the characters, the film just sort of keeps happening until it finally ends. Strange. It was, as I said, very pretty to look at, I did laugh out loud once when Karl Marx appeared, and there were some other really smart moments, but mostly I was bored.
There was a moment in Persepolis when the little girl who is the film's star is hugged by her uncle and he's so large and she's so small and I leaned over to my companion and said "I wish I were that small so someone could hug me like that." I don't even think I can remember ever being hugged like that by someone so big. It seemed like such a nice feeling in that moment on the screen.
Also watched John Huston's 1984 Under the Volcano. It was alright. Rather Tennessee Williams-esque, and I guess I don't mean that in a good way. Tragic, earnest. Very Night of the Iguana. It starred Albert Finney as a total drunk and Jacqueline Bisset as his wife. I guess I thought it was kinda unmemorable.
And then tonight I went to see the Coens' No Country for Old Men again. I liked it even better this time. What a fucking brilliant movie! I think I am going to try to see There Will Be Blood in the theatre again, too.