So I saw Revolutionary Road this weekend. I was totally scared — fearing that it would be a modern Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, but I made myself go. I watched the movie and was engrossed. The acting was really great and I was thinking how far Kate Winslet has come since Titanic. Leonardo was very impressive — he displayed a great range of emotions, I thought, and convincingly so. The sets and costumes were just beautiful and it seemed to be shot on film that is clearer and crisper and prettier than those used in other movies. And yet.
I didn’t cry once. Or anything close to it. In fact, I let out an embarrassing and unintended guffaw during one of the couple’s particularly bad fights. Although I thought I was deeply involved in the story, I realized after leaving the theater that I didn’t really care. I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe because the movie was all too cynical and didn’t create enough nuance or something. Maybe because I felt it was too dramatic and desperate. Maybe because it’s ultimately just a tired old recycled story of suburban despair that we’ve seen too many times. So, although I saw Kate Winslet’s pain and Leonardo’s inertia, I just didn’t really feel anything about it.
life and puppies 