external monologue

shoeshelf

i have a feeling this is going to be an entire week of late mornings. i was doing pretty well getting started early last week, but i've lost my "go" the last few days. i suppose getting 5 hours of sleep a night wasn't really helping things, and the weekend, while rich, was pretty draining. and then, 21 grams didn't really help things last night. more on that in a minute. today's photo is of the shoe shelf in our foyer. since moving into this house, we've implemented a no-shoes policy; partially as a nod to morris' eastern influences, but also because it helps to keep the house a bit cleaner. this means all shoes stay stacked by (and around) the back door, along with a handful of slippers for residents and guests (some of you will remember the infamous doggy-slipper shot).

...

so, i'm still trying to recover from 21 grams last night. its not that it was particularly violent or disturbing in its subject matter. to be honest, i'm having a difficult time putting my finger on what was so affecting about it. it left me feeling much the same way as innaritu's other film, amores perros. he tends to focus on the inherent fragility and instability of our human lives in a way that makes you, well at least me, squirm in my seat. its not that he shocks you with unbelievable plot twists (its actually a fairly simplistic story) as much as subtly building a sense of dread at how awful things can get. three-quarters of the way through the film i'm practically begging for it to be over, knowing exactly where its headed. i walked out feeling sick to my stomach, and i still don't know what i thought of it. is being "affecting" enough to make a film good? and can you walk out with knot in your gut and still like it?