I just got back from seeing Winter’s Tale. If you like romantic movies, this is a nice one to see. I’m not a big Colin Farrell fan but he was very good in this. There were also a couple of surprise cameos and Jessica Brown Findlay was beautiful and delightful. I have to admit that I was not aware that this was based on a book written in 1983 by Mark Helprin and I am definitely going to be locating a copy in the very near future. There were some wonderful lines in the movie and I loved the play on themes. This is not just a love story. It’s a story of belief, hope, romance, love, courage, good vs. evil, and how we are all interconnected. We are all unique and whether we are famous or not famous, we all have roles to play in this world and this life. There are no small lives, just small people, and even they have their part to play in the bigger picture. We are not supposed to know why or how, we are just supposed to live as well as we can with the one life we are given. I walked out of this movie crying but then, I had tears throughout most of this movie. Yes, it is a fantasy story. Yes, it is unbelievable. But so are a lot of things in life that we still, somehow, believe in. I walked out of that movie with a lot of questions and thoughts, and I liked that about this movie. No, this movie is not for everyone. I got a message out of it, but I’m a romantic and I believe in miracles even though, sometimes, miracles require human angels. I truly enjoyed this movie despite the fact that the three older women next to me could not keep quiet; they kept up a running commentary and critique throughout the entire film. At then end of it, one lady rather decidely stated she did not like it. I smiled to myself and held my tongue. She was quite honest about it. But there you go. It takes all kinds in this world. I leave you with a quote I found from Mr. Helprin’s Winter’s Tale.
“Nothing is random, nor will anything ever be, whether a long string of perfectly blue days that begin and end in golden dimness, the most seemingly chaotic political acts, the rise of a great city, the crystalline structure of a gem that has never seen the light, the distributions of fortune, what time the milkman gets up, the position of the electron, or the occurrence of one astonishing frigid winter after another. Even electrons, supposedly the paragons of unpredictability, are tame and obsequious little creatures that rush around at the speed of light, going precisely where they are supposed to go. They make faint whistling sounds that when apprehended in varying combinations are as pleasant as the wind flying through a forest, and they do exactly as they are told. Of this, one is certain.
And yet, there is a wonderful anarchy, in that the milkman chooses when to arise, the rat picks the tunnel into which he will dive when the subway comes rushing down the track from Borough Hall, and the snowflake will fall as it will. How can this be? If nothing is random, and everything is predetermined, how can there be free will? The answer to that is simple. Nothing is predetermined, it is determined, or was determined, or will be determined. No matter, it all happened at once, in less than an instant, and time was invented because we cannot comprehend in one glance the enormous and detailed canvas that we have been given – so we track it, in linear fashion piece by piece. Time however can be easily overcome; not by chasing the light, but by standing back far enough to see it all at once. The universe is still and complete. Everything that ever was is; everything that ever will be is – and so on, in all possible combinations. Though in perceiving it we image that it is in motion, and unfinished, it is quite finished and quite astonishingly beautiful. In the end, or rather, as things really are, any event, no matter how small, is intimately and sensibly tied to all others. All rivers run full to the sea; those who are apart are brought together; the lost ones are redeemed; the dead come back to life; the perfectly blue days that have begun and ended in golden dimness continue, immobile and accessible; and, when all is perceived in such a way as to obviate time, justice becomes apparent not as something that will be, but something that is.”
― Mark Helprin, Winter’s Tale