Friday, November 14, 2008
"Let me share a little story", he began anew, breaking the silence that had enveloped the two as they sat huddled close to the fire, sipping vegetable broth. Her eyes mirrored the fire's flames as she smiled in anticipation of another parable. After all, it was only an hour after sunset, and although the night was young, their supply of dry wood meant an early entry to the snungness of their down bags, or, she hoped, one of the two.
"The easier it gets the harder it becomes".
"Like directing"? she asked.
"Very much so, but even more like acting."
"More Cruise than Kubrick"?
"Each in their own time, with their own accents, interpretation and finesse, like carrying water for your partner up the steepest part of the hill".
"Because you will both drink of it later, as you share the view at the top".
"All little stories, are they not"?
"Some happy, some sad, some memorable some soon forgot".
Minority Report, he.
Eyes Wide Shut, she.
A Few Good Men, he.
Mission Impossible: III, she
The Last Samurai, he.