Monday, August 13, 2012
Doing their blue dissolve.
Lena Dunham wrote an article in this week's New Yorker called "First Love: Memories of an Elusive Boyfriend." I am slowly re-viewing Tiny Furniture as well as Girls. I am catching way more that impresses me - albeit in imperceptibly small ways that owe much of their impressiveness to their minuteness - in Tiny Furniture, but "First Love" made me reconsider what I originally perceived as weakness in the film. My boyfriend is a slow reader and he had me read it first and asked in the middle of my reading, "Is it funny? It has to be funny." I missed him because he'd been gone a week but I was abruptly in a very remote place. The article starts with Dunham having her last connection to her first love, called Noah, torn from her without her knowing, itself vicarious anyway. She's still able to contact him, but it was affiliation with him she lost. She characterizes herself as basically the same before and after the relationship and is transfixed by her behavior during, when they were barely physical but invading one another with such diffusive will she cannot clearly render why he behaved the way he did - it didn't impress upon her and pose the usual questions because however erratic he was, it was all ready so in her. She sticks to the slightness of it and the heavy dampness of how it stays, a relationship that people might still after its over mistake for current, taking for granted that one has "your boyfriend's rice cooker." I also re-viewed Daria twice this summer, not slowly. I love the hyper awareness demonstrated by Quin of social behaviors, the acute intelligence. I love how detonated Dunham is by social behaviors and the small things she picks up on so perfectly, and how for all her perceptiveness she romanticizes their elusiveness. No matter how well you have people down, you don't have them.