Everyone's talking about the movie Grand Hotel Budapest. So I went to the 2:00 matinee which is usually not very busy at the Cape Cinema. When I arrive about ten minutes before show time the parking lot was so full I had to check that this was not the Saturday of the La Boheme simulcast from the Met. No, it was people like me who heard the buzz and wanted to find out what it was all about.
In fact, it was about the airiness of meringue; pure entertainment on a fantasy premise -- a huge resort hotel, a story about how it's present owner, as the hotel is declining precipitiously, became the owner. (Played adequately by F. Murray Abraham, not a favorite of mine.) It was a convoluted story of East European conflicts, villainous relatives cut out of a will, a suave concierge (Ralph Finnes who's have far better roles) and a brave lobby boy, a wonderful chase scene through snowy mountains, a grand dame and a pure maiden. It was fluffy, meringue as I said. I feel I wasted the afternoon except many people I know are going to be talking about how delightful the film was and I'll know what they're talking about and mostly not rain on their parade. I didn't want it to be La Boheme because, to me, although not to hordes of opera lovers, it too is meringue - or probably more aptly maple syrup on Belgium waffles. Too sticky sweet for my taste so I will not be at the theatre next Saturday. Oh, my, I suppose I'm becoming a bit crabby. The dialogue wasn't even very witty -- if it had been it might have saved the film... maybe. Can't win them all.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!