A Lesson

Well, I learned things yesterday, mostly that I have no patience. But I did have patience once upon a time or it would have been impossible to sit through Don't Look Now. Last night I was pointing, laughing, getting up to make cups of tea, occasionally checking my phone... the film's lack of pace didn't escape me back in the day, but wow. I applaud younger me's powers of endurance. I must have really fancied Donald Sutherland.

This last became more apparent when I realised that I had completely blanked out the beauty of Julie Christie. Maybe it's because of flashbacks to Schlesinger's Far From The Madding Crowd, an irritating adaptation of an irritating novel, or maybe it came down to being caught in the story and too into Donald... anyway, she's almost luminous at times. Can't believe I missed it.

Older eyes and knowledge of the plot do not enhance this film, and neither does my inevitable twitch of laughter at the superimposition shots. Can't help but associate this technique with terrible movies that usually include Bo Derek.

Still, I enjoyed revisiting my first view of Venice. No wonder I loved it when I actually got there! Between Roeg's city of haunts and tatters and the melancholy of Visconti's Death In Venice, I may have been subconsciously prepped for Hades with pizza, but of course, Venice is full of life like everywhere else. It's just got the kind of beauty that makes for mood and glorious projection.

It suddenly occurred to me that I'm unlikely to return simply because there's so much else to see in the world. I've been often enough not to recall whether there were three or four trips, so we're probably done.

This is only the second time I've watched Don't Look Now.It gave me terrible nightmares for decades! And now I see it only to find that old ghosts, like old desirables, are best left to time and imagination. I don't intend to compound my mistake by revisiting the 1963 version of The Haunting of Hill House.