Raw, adjective: 7. brutally or grossly frank: a raw portrayal of human passions

Last week, on one of these blustery winter-summer evenings that we've been strewn with of late, I tucked into a theater and caught (500) Days of Summer, on the advice of a friend who'd seen it and knew.

I was wrapped up in six scarves and a shrug and a cloche and too much lipstick, ostensibly to protect myself from the elements but really because I just wanted to be left alone, and mint-green cashmere shrugs topped with a glossy coat of bombshell red somehow seem to do the trick when I'm craving that solitude the most. But as soon as Joseph Gordon-Leavitt and Zooey Deschanel began their onscreen shtick, I soon forgot all of the wind and the social overload and the exhaustion.

(500) Days' media materials classify it as a romantic comedy, but I'm hesitant to even throw it in close association with the Katherine Heigl/Jennifer Aniston tripe hitting theaters right now. The film was one of the more thoughtful, melancholy, light, quirky, wistful, honest films about anything that I've seen in some time; more specifically, it was one of the most true-to-life depictions of relationships in your 20s that I've seen written, as well. Not to mention the good music, and the darkly-attractive hipster leads, and their nuanced and measured performances. It all made my heart hurt.

Apparently the film was a sensation at Sundance earlier this year. I'm not surprised. See it.


c said…
i caught this as well, and i found it to be lovely for the most part. it hurt in a very good way, but i have been unable to reconcile the ending. the film concluded by suddenly transforming into a greeting card itself - a commonplace, Hollywood-induced promise of destined love. i would have been more satisfied if Tom had simply persevered into a hired architect rather than "having the right one come along." the film betrayed itself, ultimately. we deserved to have seen a wiser and more self-reliant Tom - a Tom who sees a promising yet undetermined horizon. We all seek to bury our scars. I wanted to see him bury his.
freelancer said…
I got a chance to see it last week and loved it too. I do agree that the ending could seem romantic comedy cliché, but that is not what I think they want you to take away from it. You don't really know what will happen in the future. It's very much not a Nora Ephron ending. I would elaborate but I do not want to spoil the ending for anyone who has not seen it.
Rach said…
Yeah...I hear you. To be honest, I think I read the ending, particularly with the re-introduction of the whole "1" theme as it began a new count of days, not so much as some perky hopeful happy-ending bullshit, but more as a knowing, resigned head-nod to the way we perpetuate relationship patterns in our lives. Sort of that unending samsaric cycle of expectation-disappointment that characterizes every relationship. You know, given that "all meetings end in separation," a dark recognition of perpetual suffering. Not to get all Buddhist on you or anything, but that's how it read to me, and in that case, was much less offensive and slightly less guilty of betraying the preceding content of the film itself.

Because you know that shit is gonna crash and burn, too! And then we meet Winter. And on it goes.

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