After much debate, I finally gave in and picked up Jules & Jim. I heard about this film from watching Vanilla Sky, which is enthralling. You can really note how influenced Cameron Crowe was by Jules & Jim, in making Vanilla Sky. A few key scenes are lifted almost directly.
Having imagined Jules to be the woman, as it's such a pretty name, I was shocked to find out that the female characters name was, in fact, Catherine. This would be the smallest tremor of shock I would experience for the duration of the film.
For some months now, I've been picking at a screenplay about an ex-girlfriend's free-spirited, nonchalance for the world. Her vile ways with numerous and various men, all the while up keeping a relationship with me. I'm not bitter, you can't be when you're ignorant to the ways of the floozy. I just thought it would make an interesting character study; going into the depths of what makes this girl the way she is. Soon, though, I came to the conclusion that searching for a reason "why" would be less entertaining than showing the actual results of the "why". I think it'd be more surreal to see her actions as they are committed, as a result of impulse, rather than due to years of Mommy hating. Whoa - getting off subject.
Jules & Jim, yeah. So basically, watching this movie brought to the forefront these memories of all my exes. Memories I had thought were repressed to my subconscious. This girl, and her relationship with these men, brought about an intercourse of loathe and love. I was actually drawn to her and wanted her to be apart of my life, if not me apart of hers. Certain scenes, though, frightened me in all her hostility and disdain towards her male subjects, particularly Jules.
I've already penned, in detail, the way I wanted certain scenes to play out. And here, right before my eyes, it was happening within a film crafted by the mind of someone else. The script I was working on now seemed to have already been done, and it had been, by Francois Truffaut. I'd say that's an admirable thing, but this is the only film from Truffaut that I've witnessed, as of yet. I dig the whole French New Wave thing; Godard is a new liking of mine. But I'm not some pretentious film snob; I merely pretend to be when I'm at the local art college. I do a lot of wine drinking and cheese eating whilst complaining about how "self-indulgent" Fellini was.
You see what happens when I start to talk about film. I get off subject quicker than my sex life does. This was one of the most profound nights I've had in recent history; here I am not able to think of a single, solitary thing, profound, to say. It's all minutia.
Well, anyways, my whole point was that viewing this film last night has brought about some sort of epiphany. I don't know what it is, just yet, but my intuitive side is telling me, tonight, to shut myself off from the objective world and hammer out a screenplay, John Henry style. If you don't know who John Henry is then you'll have to look up "folklore". He was one tough s.o.b. and he got it DONE.
Progress reports at a later time. Wine, Cigarettes and Coffee. Oh, and cheese.