Match Point

I headed to work today, feeling like the semester had officially started now, walking on a wet and cold Monday morning to the train, squinting through the darkness and rain, squeezing into a crowded subway car, jostling for a seat, changing at Union Square, finding another seat, getting out, walking through the cold and unsmiling 7:45 am Bronx streets.

Oddly, I was feeling wonderful today, unbothered by the nasty weather, floating on clouds of optimism and good feelings. I woke up this morning to a beautiful song and followed its path through the day, receiving happy phone calls and meeting friends for coffee and lunch and strolling down the Manhattan streets, oblivious to my frozen feet and hands, happy to be here.

I decided to stop into a movie, the new Woody Allen film as it turned out, and as I bought my ticket I relished the happy guilt of stepping out of daylight into a darkened movie theatre. One of Allen's characters, in some movie or another, loved this feeling as well, so I enjoyed the fitting nature of my delicious escape. I put on my glasses and settled comfortably into the sparsely populated theatre, ready for the film.

I had been warned about this film by a friend, who told me that she liked it, but that it made her feel "uncomfortable." To describe the feelings that I felt when I left this movie as a lack of comfort would be an understatement that I can't begin to quantify. Something about the main character's eyes freaked me out from the beginning to the end, and his actions throughout the film, and his reactions to his own actions, and the relationships between him and the other characters left me reeling.

I left the theatre in a daze, stumbling into the now unforgiving dark and cold. I walked slowly and in circles, ducking into dark corners and shadows, avoiding eye-contact with people, feeling suspicious and watched and sad. I went into a coffee shop for an espresso and mourned the emptiness of the place. When I came out of the bathroom to see two other patrons, I mourned their intrusion into the previously quiet place.

I'm very rarely so strongly affected by a film, and I wouldn't normally write about it here, but I experienced such intense, strange feelings during and after the viewing that I couldn't resist saying something. I'm only finally beginning to calm down...