Rehearsal Dinner/Darjeeling Limited

Scott and I went to the Bijou Theater tonight and enjoyed "The Darjeeling Limited".

During the movie I realized once again that the older I get, the more I am losing my English major/master's degree in English mindset. I realized that I wasn't critically appraising the movie as it progressed. I wasn't evaluating its structure. I wasn't working its metaphors over in my mind. I wasn't thinking about how this movie stacked up with Wes Anderson's other movies I've seen. I was hardly even thinking about Wes Anderson.

I've been having this experience more and more lately. A couple of weeks ago I went to see the Lane Community College production of "King Lear". I've seen many productions of "King Lear" both on film and on the stage. I've taught it, published an article about it, and had my world view significantly shaped by "King Lear".

When I saw "King Lear" two weeks ago, I experienced it as if I'd never seen it before and never studied it. Rather than thinking about how Olivier did this or Anthony Hopkins did that or wondering if certain scenes played out the way I imagined they would (or should) be played, I experienced the production on its own terms.

It was liberating. I experienced "King Lear"as a fresh play, almost as if it were a newly written play and I was there for its premier.

I loved the production, especially seeing it this fresh way, and I experienced characters in ways I never had before. And I should have. After all, these characters and the story and physical production of the play had never before been done this way and I could be guaranteed that the company did things that Sunday afternoon they had never done before. It's how live theater works.

I had a similar experience tonight with "The Darjeeling Limited". My mind as uncluttered with questions of what I like or dislike in movies. I never once thought about whether I liked it or not. I just took it in and I could feel the warm liquid of pleasure working its way through my body. It was almost as if I'd never seen a movie before. That's how absorbed I was in each moment of the movie.

What this means, of course, is that I'd make a lousy movie critic or reviewer. If a critic or reviewer is working to assess the integrity of a movie and trying to help others determine whether they would enjoy the movie, I'd be of no help at all.

I'd write the same thing for each movie: "As I watched Wes Anderson's latest movie, 'The Darjeeling Limited', I once again had the feeling that I had never seen a movie before and the pure pleasure of watching this movie unfold against the exotic background of India filled me the pleasure that comes from having made a new discovery and experiencing an art form for the first time."

But, even as I was absorbed in the movie, my mind was working in other directions, too.

I kept having my viewing temporarily interrupted by the memory of the rehearsal dinner on the eve of my second wedding.

One of my second wife's best friends, Margaret/Meg traveled across the country to be at the wedding and was at the rehearsal dinner.

My mind kept returning to a comment she made after the dinner back at the house where Annette and I lived.

"I was in the restroom when one of your sisters and your mom came in. They must know you as being more loquacious than you were tonight because they commented on how quiet you were being."

I laughed it off that night. But my sister and my mom were right. I was quiet. Earlier that day Annette had erupted about something. Maybe I'd had some crackers without offering her one or maybe she wanted to have a cup of tea and I hadn't anticipated it and so she got mad that I was so oblivious. Whatever it was, she wanted to call off the wedding.

I wish I'd said, "Sounds good. Let's call it off."

But, I didn't. It would be another six years before Annette called it off once and for all after six years of threatening countless times to leave or kick me out.

So, yes, I was quiet at the rehearsal dinner. I was scared. I was apprehensive.

The only reason I can think of that the rehearsal dinner came back to me is that I was seated next to Scott. His daughter's name is Margaret and as a young child, she went by Meg.

Or maybe it was that Annette loved Darjeeling tea and that our marriage was so limited.