Broken Flowers

Last evening: Drive to Heidelberg -> Park in P9 -> Stop at Potter Books for a couple of minutes, and buy E.B.White Writings from The New Yorker -> Meet G & D opposite Pizza Hut -> Pick up movie tickets and dine [ Garlic bread and “Garden Lovers” pizza ] -> Walk into Gloria [a cinema hall so small that if not for the heads in front you may consider it your own private movie room with a plasma screen] -> Ads begin [ a couple are campaign ads – aimed at upcoming elections – that draw raucous laughter from the crowd while we sit in silence ] -> Immediately after an Ice Cream ad a lady enters the hall with a basket, announcing ice candies for sale; crowd laughs at the timing; she sells a few candies and leaves with a loud “Viel Vergnuegen”, to which the hall responds with a “Danke!” -> Movie begins:

-> Brilliant film, abstract, gloomy and funny [ guy sitting next to me laughs throughout like a hyena with a sore throat ]; seems like Bill Murray is continuing from where he left us at the end of Lost In Translation -> Later, we walk down Haupstrasse -> Pick up ice cream along the way -> Perfect Summer Evening: the street is full of people young and old, walking energetically or chatting away in outdoor cafes; painters are busy sketching portraits of people who sit patiently waiting to see their images rendered on paper; a police car slowly rolls by, adding a feeling of security (which I’ve never found lacking in this country) -> We say Goodbye to G & D and drive back home, discussing aspects of the movie -> At home, I read the movie’s review that appeared in The New Yorker a couple of weeks ago [ David Denby is not impressed: “But it’s an art object without the energy or courage to be a work of art” ; that, I think, reflects a maturity and experience of movie-watching I do not currently possess, so I’ll stick to my interpretation].