I did not get what I was expecting from watching Beginners, but the surprise has not been in vain. The years of the romantic comedy seems to be gone, at least at the moment. There is not much sweetness in the story of its characters -apart from sweet bitterness- in a time when it seems that the young, after jumping from one relationship on to the next one, is losing all faith in love and the happy living-together. The myth says that in the old times, you were stuck with whatever you had and, perhaps, people could incubate the -now- futile hope of "fixing" things up.
The young, on the contrary, in spite of having it all, albergates mould into their hearts, nihilism has crawled profoundly and made all their corners damped. The young keeps searching without any luck. The girl has lived in Paris, London, Berlin, New York and LA and, still, her apartment in New York is as cold as ice, and she feels like in her mind there will always be an empty room for her. The happy moments for the young are not 44 years of marriage, but isolated moments -moments of photography and facebook- where everyone plays the game of finding some truth and intimacy and relevancy and significance.
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Precisely, today, I am not certain about the reason, I imagined the story of a man driving along a winding highway somewhere in the central United States on Saturday night, alone and soar to the bone, down to this bar on the edge of a forgotten and old road. There he enters; it feels warmer; he feels company without interfering too much -loneliness, you know, is like a jealous husband-, and after alcohol has shaken the drowsiness out of him and his eyes timidly ask for sparking, he finds his woman. And here you make up the story: it could be a forever kind of love or it can be a love made of instants. Up to you.
And in the dumbness of their nerves, in a careless night, shocked by the unexpected finding, the man and the woman dance in the middle, abandoned to each other... Perhaps, the abnegate and always magical band is playing Bob Seger.
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