So the husband and I have been meaning to see Black Swan for a while now, but never seem to get around to it. Tonight, it finally happened and I have this to say: Holy shit.
When it ended, we sat, in our seats, stunned, as applause erupted around us. I didn't clap, nor did anyone in the theatre, but they did in the film and it felt as though it came from me. When the credits began to roll, we finally pulled ourselves out of our seats and dream-walked out of the theatre, clutching our half-eaten bags of Swedish Fish and Sour Patch Watermelons, and tried to figure out what had just happened to us. In the car, the best we could do was try to come up with words to describe it. The best we could find was "haunting" (Mitchell's) and "visceral" (mine). We agreed that the word "good" was both inadequate and inaccurate.
The movie only ended a few minutes ago and I'm still in shock. I do know, however, that I have needed something like this. After two months of merely drifting through books inspire lukewarm feelings (first Anna Karenina and now Homeland) and working three jobs that do nothing for me, I needed to be captured, consumed, completely immersed in something. It's strange that for somebody who usually thrives on words, something visual should do this (though the music had at least as much impact as the images). I need literature like this, literature that I can plunge into and that makes me wonder where the line between it and me can be found, if it can be found at all. It felt like days, weeks, months that I was in that theatre, yet it was only a couple of hours. That was enough.