I really didn't expect to enjoy The Curious Case of Benjamin Button as much as I did. The way Nev put it - "it's just a three-hour chick flick" - made it seem a little nauseating (but also slightly appealing, not gonna lie). I was definitely in the right state of mind last night for a three-hour chick flick, though: I ended up crying several times and cursing myself for not bringing any tissues.
It wasn't so much the romantic parts, even, but the lines and scenes about family and death. Just coming out of a lovely visit from Flip and the parents, I was particularly susceptible, I think, to the sentimentality and sap. Of course, the complicated romances probably also did play a role in the waterworks.
The concept of aging backwards is fascinating. The relationship between one's age and experience and mind and one's physical appearance is not really something that I think about often, but when the disconnect is so blatant, as it was in this movie, it made me wonder about old age - and even youth - and how we presume things about people based on how old we think they are and also how behavior can sometimes belie that presumption. Like how Benjamin was so naive even though he looked so worn, or how Daisy could tell that he was different, because he was so young at heart, or how he exhibited dementia symptoms as a "teenager."
Several times during the movie, I thought it was unfair, almost, that Benjamin had a predetermined death date, because he was born with a specific amount of time, but there was really no way to know how old he was when he was born, I guess. Just a random thought.
One sequence I really loved was the one in Paris, which detailed how every single tiny occurrence leading up to the crux of that part contributed to what ultimately happened. I think about that a lot, how everything that happens affects everything that will happen, how one little change could have set our whole lives on a different course. It's so obvious, yet not. (Eloquent, I know.)
I could go on and on about the thought-provoking-ness of the movie, but I will spare you and instead write about how gorgeous the cast is, especially Brad Pitt. (I almost titled this post "Brad Pitt Love." Seriously. How convenient that his name is two four-letter words!) It really doesn't seem humanly possible for someone to look that good. Even though I'm sure he was wearing makeup, there's no amount of makeup in the world that could make someone look like that if he didn't already have some damn good genes. And in what universe would Cate Blanchett and Brad Pitt be an ordinary couple, living in a duplex? Can you imagine what the movie stars must look like in that universe?
A final thought: recently, I read Requiem, a John Updike poem which was, in a sad, ironic twist, published posthumously. (I always worry that I am not using "ironic" correctly...) It doesn't relate all that much to the movie, but for some reason, I connected the two in my mind, maybe because of the contrast:
It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
'Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise - depths unplumbable!
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
'I thought he died a while ago.'
For life's a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
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