Day 93: She’s Gotta Have It

She's Gotta Have It w/ Tracy Camilla Johns

Seriously one of the most sensual movies I’ve ever seen. It’s shot in black and white, and yet delivers a vivid and colorful storyline that only Spike Lee can bring. In essence, it was a story about sexuality and sensuality. In the perspective of African-Americans in Brooklyn, Nola, the protagonist, embodies what could be the transition of sexual freedom into the 90’s. It’s raw and makes no apologies. It’s a film with contrasting ideologies coming from both men and woman – the idea of multiple sexual partners, being an assertive and independent person, all through Nola’s life.

I think every woman who considers them as a “bad bitch” is Nola. Indefinitely. She’s doing her own thing on her own terms. What’s enticing about Nola is her sheer outright personality about her sex life. Although this movie is made during the late 80’s, Nola’s personality aligns with most women I know. Frankly, the mentality of the single 20-something year old has not changed, if anything it’s been encouraged. Assertiveness and freedom has culminated into this badass. But it is a double-edged sword regardless. Being free technically leads to others calling you a slut. It’s a shame in deed. We can go and on about the double standards that occur, but let’s be real. Shit is not going to change in a day. I’ll stick to my guns, thank you.

Nola Darling: It’s really about control, my body, my mind. Who was going to own it? Them? Or me? I’m not a one-man woman. Bottom line.

Day 36: Wings Of Desire

Wings of Desire w/ Bruno Ganz

Probably one of the most beautifully shot films I’ve ever seen. It took the concept of desire and perceived it from an eagle eye. I think we’re so used to hearing our own individual desires, it’s an appealing perspective to hear it from others. The angel, Damiel, unexpectedly seeks and ultimately desires to be human to physically feel. The idea of longing is present throughout the film. It accompanies a sense of loneliness – usually of innate human tendencies such as love, belonging and etc. It’s interesting how Damiel wants to feel the complexities of feelings, when most of the time it’s not all shits and giggles it turns out to be. We’re often distraught, stressed the fuck out or pissed about something and everything. I can’t imagine why anyone would desire any of it. But I guess it ties in to the whole “it’s better to have love, than not to have loved at all” spiel. Being a spectator is never really fun, unless it’s sports or you’re a stalker, so feelings are meant to be exposed and made to be felt at full capacity. 

Day 13: In Search of a Midnight Kiss

In Search of a Midnight Kiss w/ Scoot McNairy & Sara Simmonds

I spent a majority of my day at a local cafe in San Jose, attempting to get work done.  Cups of coffees, shots of espressos later, I managed to get a bit accomplished.  But you can imagine that my brain’s completely fried so bare with me here.

It’s the holiday season also known as single person season personified. It’s that time of the year where everyone goes through their digital little black book to see who isn’t committed yet. I hate cuffing season. Get it? Cuffed? I hate it mostly because it’s realizing you’re saving money but also going through a season where everyone’s completely gushy. Ugh. Bitter me hates the holidays. Actually, bitter me hates all holidays.

The film is shot in black and white with LA as its background. McNairy is going through a breakup, of course, it happens during the worst time of his career. Simmonds is bent on finding “love” before New Year’s Day. The film takes a shot at online dating. By dating, I mean posting a personal ad on Craigslist. Real classy. But it works out, sort of. It’s very reminiscent of 2 Days in Paris but with complete strangers. Suffering through heartache is a mutual connection. All you need is the nudge and you can talk for days about the shitty times you went through. It’s funny though, we act like it’s no big deal that asshole broke your heart. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” Yeah. Seems a little taboo to admit we’re hurt. Sometimes, I think we get even crazier if we don’t admit it.