the clouds have broken

I've known about this movie for years. Literally years. And I've been excited about it for almost as long.



AND THEN:

when it was in the movie theater -- I planned -- I was READY to go see it THREE times.

and each time:

babysitting plans fell through.

a huge rainstorm and a sick child warranted a rescheduling.

& finally, when I knew it to be the last week before the movie would leave the Cedar Lee (which would be the last time, in turn, that it would see the Midwestern region of the country), I was meticulous. I planned my nap at the right time so I could go to the movie late.

I played with the kids all evening and planned the exact minute that I would have to leave so that I wouldn't miss any family-time, but would also get to Cleveland with plenty of time.

There was a map on the shotgun seat of the Buick.

A ten dollar bill was in my pocket.

I filled the tank with gas and checked the air in the tires in the afternoon.

And then....

when I walked outside -- improbably, unbelievably, the tornado siren wailed.

I walked down to Everhard. Couldn't be real, could it? It wasn't even raining....

I watched as a wall of debris and dirt crested the hill and whipped toward me. When it hit the driveway, I couldn't even keep my eyes open.

I went inside just to let Lynn know that I would be fine. I was still going.

She was entrenched in the basement with the kids watching the Doppler Radar which (seriously) showed tornado rotations not only exactly over our house -- but also all the way up 77N. Seriously.

I went outside and shook my fist and the swirling sky: "Why don't you want me to see this FILM!?!?!"

When I announced to her last week that the movie was coming out on DVD this week -- she conveyed her concerns. She was rather sure that I would be killed on the way to Blockbuster (which is sort of a not-so-honorable way to die...especially when Fate has made her Will *quite* clear.).



But we watched it last night, and, maybe because of my backstory -- no, definitely because of my (longer) backstory -- but maybe also because of my more recent this-film-related-back-story: I cried. And loved it.

It's definitely in my Top Five (only Wes Anderson Films have, thus far, penetrated this prestigious list upon their first viewing).



There's so much that's perfect about it. Michel Gondry's aesthetic approach is beautiful, but his own ongoing interest with the idyll of childhood and the beauty and simplicity that are connected to one's awareness of their childhood....and Charlie Kauffman's script is (finally) perfect in the third act -- as well as the first two acts (which he's always nailed).



I love what the film says about memory and the fabric of horror and pleasure that are woven together to constitute ourselves.

I love the soundtrack.

I love how it shows the power of the stories we tell.

The nostalgic celebration of physical objects which are records of our stories...and how seeping full of love and regret every little object is...

I know. It's too late to write a review for a movie that everybody's already seen, but...here I am dizzy with the light that (finally) came through the clouds, and I had to pass it on.