:: Nectar Dreams ::

"I'm a finger print on the window pane of a skyscraper...I'm so insignificant, I can't even kill myself." - Miles Raymond, Sideways.

Truth always has its way of becoming slightly hilarious. You laugh at it, with it; you become intimate with its immediate meaning, and you become entangled in the perspectives you draw from it with allusions to your own―usually unhappy―life. Perhaps happiness is like a brilliant bottle of Pinot Noir. An exclusive bouquet of taste, expansive and expensive, delicate in theory but resilient in its lingering fragrance. And always, always a little tart to the palate, before the woody notes of sweetness swirl into consciousness.

But happiness can also be a small thing. And for me, there's nothing more victorious than being in a darkened theatre, lost to noise, and being sucked into the dialogue of the movie. Thank you, Daniel―you've taught me more than you know, but the most legitimate and the most useful lesson from you is the ability to enjoy the script of a movie more than its visual exhibitions.

What did we used to say? A movie is a dialogue between the script writer and the audience, but the script is a monologue of the writer to himself. Artistic licence, you said. Artistic ego, I replied.

(And then you smiled that smile of yours―pale and pallid and almost shy―but your eyes sparkled with a prodigal satisfaction.)

And so, yes, Sideways is a brilliant script more than it is a fabulous movie―don't watch it for entertainment, but if you can, watch it and be entertained by the cutting, irrelevant humour that erupts from the characters who have been caressed tenderly by the same sad truths of life we all can identify with.

You see, that's why we laugh.

***

It's mental inertia taking over the flesh. Such a beautiful line, soulmate.
As for me: it's metal inertia taking over the flesh.