Or Was It Delight?

As a film critic, my watchword is dignity; always dignity. Always the historical angle, the enumeration of the Classics. Psychology is the feel-good science; nobody puts any stock in it, except for the people who really wanted to be podiatrists. And the role of emotion in illness! The mind-body connection! Why, but that wouldn’t be dignified, somehow! Don’t ask me why, I’d have to figure it out! 

But enough about you, right. I’d had this movie on my list of things to watch for awhile and in ‘happened’ to be here for me today as I begin getting into this little novella, but it’s also a lucky thing. It’s easy for me to make fun of you, but I’m no better. It’s easy to draw back from things, not because they’re undignified, but because they’re uncertain, not plannable, and—I guess I don’t like it. Sometimes it’s possible to ask for a little less pleasure from life, to get what you ask for, and to feel contented almost to the point of feeling pleased, but then you feel so good you examine your repressed ideas, and unconscious rebels and you get sick—A story they began like mine could never end in love, life’s not worth it! And then pretty soon—  (sniffly emoji)

Of course, a movie isn’t everything. Comedies love to do those books-about-books, play-in-a-play things, (it’s /more common/ in comedies, at least—much more common; most dramatic heroes are a little less indecisive than Hamlet, although I like the neurotic Danish prince, you know), where everybody sits around reading Dickens and by the end they finally realize, (shocked emoji), Dickens is nothing like real life! It’s all a trope! A fiction! A schema! (And then they run off and make babies.) 

But it serves a purpose. If it makes you think that delight as a role in life, and not just dignity—or safety, you know, non-foolish-looking-ness; you know, and I’m a Six, on the Enneagram. Can’t be too careful! (nervous/anxious emoji) 

You probably think this review is foolish, although you can’t /really/ make yourself foolish /on the internet/, not even if you finish the review: blah blah blah, LOVE, you know. 

Love! 

“I love you, for who you are.” (tropical emojis) 

…. And so, you know, no Hawaiian shamans, no Japanese samurai guy saying, I am a girl, and you are a girl: now let’s have. A very good conversation! (I think it’s a good idea, but how they phrase is is a little off for me), but, you know. 

If your life isn’t military dignity, maybe you’re allowed to make a few mistakes. 

…. And, you know, it’s pretty. (girl dancing emoji) 

…. He’s a boy with a pretty soul. (boy haircut emoji) 

…. And, you know, I won’t tell you if one of the characters is a one-dimensional foil, and whether it’s Femmie or not, you know. (Hint: it’s Femmie.)

 Although, you know, there can really only be one girl, one real girl, in the picture, because there are just more men in the world; it’s science—and Femmie just doesn’t have a friend, you know, a girl-friend, the way that Herr Mann has a friend, and a girl-friend, you know. Femmie doesn’t know about having a friend—but she DOES know about having One Friend, a boy-friend! 

BUT DON’T WORRY, FEMMIE. WE LOVE YOU!!!! (love eyes emoji) 

And I have the skills of an artist, and the soul of a dancer. (artist emoji boy dancing emoji)

(So., There’s that.)