I spent the night with Peter Sarsgaard and let him drag me through the mud. Older man, young girl, he steals things, what red flag was not raised even 5 minutes into this movie? From the beginning when he offers to take her Cello for a ride I knew I was taking that ride too. Same hopes and dreams as she that yes, a smart and handsome and witty boy wants me. Even though I've been through this before. No stability. Sure it's not too good to be true. Yes I will drink the cool aid. Please make it blue.
Knowing we are already intoxicated the director makes it easy to follow the path: Ok, he lies and well, he steals. She'll marry him and watch him go to jail and they'll live in flop houses and she'll wish she followed her educated life instead. Got it. But, the way he looks at her. This is Love with a captial L. This is Living. This is better than books. It is what all good artists will put up with for a life well spent: Love Conquers All. So what if we are never comfortable and always in trouble. This, this you and me...is bigger than life.
And just like in real life I sit on the edge of the couch when the ordinary truth is revealed and feel the slap that says, "See, you fall for this everytime! You think things are more romantic and dangerous than they are. This is it, right here. This guy. Not the bad boy thieving clever adrenaline nut who is in love with you, yes that is what you signed up for, but the icky and the sick. The truth is he sits at home in a recliner watching Americas Next Top Model next to his wife. They go to Bed Bath and Beyond and he picks out the dishes she has to look at for the next 30 years (because, well, she picked out the sofa it's only fair.) The way he looked at you, heh, it's the way he's looked at everyone. He does this all the time. In fact, if they get pregnant he likes it better. So it's not that he's dangerous, none of it is real. In his eyes you were nothing special."
Later, she is walking around her English teachers house and says:
This is very nice. All your art....and books.
It's post cards and paper backs.
Yes, but, thats all one needs, isnt it? A place.
When I feed my own soul no one can pull the ground from underneath me and all of the meaning in my life never drops away. I am not considering if my towels are masculine enough for the bathroom. You aren't going to give me Paris, I can give that to myself. I want kisses and trips to the zoo and then I want you to go home. Is it no wonder Love isn't beating a path to my door? It knows I'm not going to open it.
