Finding my feet

I’ve never really taken the time to deconstruct any kind of entertainment. I simply embrace the rhythm of the current media and allow my mind to soar to distant emotional realities that I know I can’t access in my own lifetime.

That isn’t how we do things, as adults.

Ageing isn’t all that bad

I watched a movie called ‘Finding Your Feet’ earlier today. I didn’t expect to see so much of my own existential anguish magnified and expressed in 111 mins of nihilistic British drama.

Or maybe I’m old enough to let myself be understood, in stages?

As my own body whispers its secrets of Time to me, I’ve found that we (humans) mostly seek comfort. Admittedly, the magazine layout of the movie showed just enough of death’s cleavage to keep me amused without nauseating the dregs of youth that cling to my sobering mind.

Isn’t that what we want from movies though? If I wanted to see how death and disease affect most people, I could just watch the news.

Watching the geriatrics struggle through the same trials that we face in our youth does give me a sense of what could be. The encouragement to dance and take leaps of faith in spite of unreconciled pasts is exactly what I needed to feel like I could write this review.

Is Life a game of death and love?

I enjoyed the surprising, age-old truths that the movie vomited out consistently. I enjoyed the predictability of the sequences of events. The death scenes were romantic and unrealistic.

Pretty much like Life, no?

Finding Your Feet – IMDB


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