Realizing that I was becoming a little obsessive about the election, and becoming a little too fascinated by Jack Layton, I vowed to do something non-election-related tonight. Currently in the throws of a major Fling with The Firth, as Catherine calls the man, I tracked down a copy of Girl with a Pearl Earring (2003) at my local rental establishment. (I missed buying this gem when it was cheap and second hand, so, sadly, I do not own my own copy.)
Ahhhh. Beauty, thy name is Firth… I mean, thy name is Girl with a Pearl Earring. Yes, that’s what I meant.
Scenes laid out with such wonderful golden light, each one a compositional masterpiece, just like Vermeer’s works, themselves. Stunning photography, some good performances (I adore Scarlett Johansson, which is a rare reaction for me towards American actresses these days), and a realistic atmosphere. Plus, with a nice religious studies undertone, as well.
In addition, something I overlooked in my first viewings of this film back in 2003, it has a magical and attractive score. The original music was written by French composer Alexandre Desplat (who, incidentally, also scored that odd little film The Hour of the Pig in 1993, also with The Firth). To me, it is actually reminiscent of the best sounds from The Remains of the Day (1993), which was scored beautifully and memorably by American composer Richard Robbins. If you get the chance, watch these two films together- both haunting and deeply atmospheric, and both tinged by an ethereal, heart-breaking chill.
What more could I ask? Well… A little more (read: entirely consisting of) Firth might have been nice, but, as the Kingdom's Coming hasn’t occurred yet, nothing is perfect.
The shock for me in this film, noticed in both this viewing and the original ones, is just how drop-dead erotic I find the ear-piercing scene. The claustrophobic feel, the heat radiating from the screen, the sounds of the breath, the contact after so much waiting. The pain, itself. Then the symbolic breech… Oh my!
Is there something wrong with me that very nearly fall into an asthmatic faint when watching Colin Firth draw blood from a woman? Uh, calling Dr. Freud…?
So, between this reaction to Girl with a Pearl Earring, and my freakish and disturbing recent crush on Jack Layton, I am certainly seeing my true inner-self. And I’m not sure I like what I see.
However, I can always re-play the movie. I like what I see there, very much indeed.
Ohhhh, Colin! (Mi lobe es su lobe…)
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