On this early Easter morning, I am thinking many things—gratitude for my son's few perfect days home, gratitude for family and friends, gratitude for the sun rising, gratitude for the pink blending yellow ripping through white that is this early spring.
I am thinking, too, about the two movies I watched this weekend—"The Visitor" and "The Station Agent." Both produced by Mary Jane Skalski, both written and directed by Tom McCarthy. Both entirely human and intensified by the space between words that are thought but never said.
"The Visitor" is the story of a professor living in the acute aftermath of his wife's passing—a man going through the motions until he discovers two illegal immigrants living in the Manhattan apartment he rarely frequents. He allows his life to be changed by them—allows his heart to be broken newly as he enters into their music, faith, and sudden terror. There are so many ways to snap a life in two. Here, in the detention center of illegal immigrants, in the world of deportation, in the dare of trying once again to live, we witness new fault lines; we, like the characters, are heartbroken.
"The Station Agent," a movie I'd seen before, at my mother's insistence, focuses on Fin, a four-foot-five man who takes up residence at an abandoned train depot and wants nothing more than his own company. Such quietude, though, is denied him—by the loquacious Cuban who parks his food truck by the empty depot; by the beautiful divorcee down the road, who grieves the loss of her son; by the librarian (early Michelle Williams) who slides into Fin's life, then out again; and by the young girl who insists that Fin come to her school for a talk about trains, something Fin knows down to the most excruciating detail. There is a lot of walking on tracks in "The Station Agent"�intoxicatingly filmed. A lot of outright beauty between people. It is one of the most distilled films you will ever see, and one you must see, if you haven't.
I have clipped the daffodils from the back yard (uncountable numbers now). I have placed them on the table. One more meal before we drive our son back to school. And then the aftermath of goodness.
Happy Easter.
I absolutely loved The Visitor. I haven't had a chance to see The Station Agent yet.
Definitely two good movies :)
I love The Station Agent. We live near train tracks and often walk along the gravel path there. There are wildflowers and bushes and trees all along the path. I like the sound of the train--the distant whistle and rumble of things and people going and coming. I haven't seen the Visitor but will put it on our last now. Thanks! You might like Death at a Funeral, too. It's very funny and gentle and honest and quirky like the Station Agent.
Happy Easter to you as well, Beth.
On a day when I myself seem to want "nothing more than my own company," perhaps I should watch The Station Agent :) It sounds like a gem.
BTW, I would love to send you one of the postcards. I was hoping you'd want one :) Just email me your address: [email protected]
The Station Agent sounds a little like "About a Boy" with Hugh Grant. I like stories that show us that we can't escape our need for others, and others needs for us.
A good film needs that "space between words that are thought but never said." I'll check both these out.
I loved The Visitor. And I was just wondering if our daffodils might last two more weeks until my mother arrives from LA.
Happy Easter, Beth. Sounds like yours was lovely.
It astonishes me, but it should not, that so many of you have seen these two wonderful movies. Maybe those of us who love books are naturally drawn to films such as these. Lilian, I do love Death at a Funeral, too. PRECISELY my kind of film.
Why aren't there more such films? Do you know that Station Agent had to be filmed in but a handful of days, that the script was rejected for more than a year, and that most of the talent and places in the film were donated? The whole thing should have been given the red carpet treatment from day one.