5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Lift off… A movie review

I suffer from nostalgia, well, I suffer it and enjoy it, the two almost at the same time. One arrives as an odor or a certain sound detonates a thought in my brain and I feel this eager to be somewhere, with someone, doing whatever, of course, all of that I have already done in the past. Odors especially work as ignition for nostalgia with me, also flavors and sounds, when to comes to the first ones they are sudden and often pass quickly. I say I suffer from nostalgia because it feels itchy first and hurts a tiny little bit, but for a fraction of a second, then makes me smile and I start to enjoy, it feels like a breeze of memories that caress every single angle of my life at that moment, and I say moment instead of time on purpose, because is short, like the click of an old Leica camera, that vintage this feeling is, and new, full of motion and flooded with enjoyment. The aftertaste, spongy cake and merengue from my 5th birthday or the smell of vanilla candles and patchoulli mixed with sandal wood oil.

Being nostalgic can be a limitation, but since I´m pretty much invaded by it I decided to turnaround he whole thing and make it an asset, for instance, right now it nostalgia what makes me type and it is this trip to way back in time that becomes the engine of these words. I honestly think it is nostalgia what makes us get in touch with people that we haven't heard from for ages or to wear an awful piece of clothing. Nostalgia can be the plane that takes us to a very pleasant trip as well, I personally let myself being transported and land in the middle of nowhere in the dessert in Jordan on my way to Petra with a new australian friend that says "water" in a funny way, and there I am again, stuck in the road with my sister, Sian, Guillermo and the driver (that can not speak english) at 98 degrees, feeling the sun and not worrying too much about what could happen, because fortunately always everything turns out just fine. I decided make nostalgia a tool, because although it can be enjoyed my itself, nostalgia can also become a tool that intensifies the pleasure of other elements, in this case, a movie, unexpectedly joyful, a true surprise for my personal nostalgia.

The other night I went to the movies, I go as often as possible, it is the movie experience that takes me there, although the prices arise on the weekly basis, to it feels like it at least. I think by now I have to say that I have always loved cinema, since I was little back in my hometown, they would let us play in the stage like area beneath the gigantic white screen and I would do car wheels and stuff, even act as If I was performing, but mostly car wheels and runaround like a headless hen. Anyways, I´ve always enjoyed going to the movies, and this past saturday I went and watch this new Ben Stiller´s new flick, I wasn't expecting depth precisely, but I wanted to have a good time, and this guy usually delivers funny stuff, except when he went all artsy and indie and all, when it turned more grey that deep. To my surprise, I found myself refreshed by a kind of I-want-to-get-serios-here-but-will-keep-it-funny-but-seriously-watch-how-good-of-a-writter-and-director-I-am proposal that I opened my heart to, since the very first minute of the digital super high definition projection (in "Version Originale", that stands for original version, english in this case, with french subtitles, remember I live in Paris now). It seemed a little slow, but since I sort of know that they have to establish the character in general and particular, his pros, cons, defects, virtues, vices, phobias, manias, etc., I kept receptive, good for me I had a good night sleep the night before and the approach was good and not high profile at all, only a bit less speedy than the opening of, lets say, Saving Private Ryan, I mean, you want speed and all, there you go, watch the opening sequence of Saving Private Ryan, from then on the movie just slows down little by little, but trust me, that opening is like being thrown out of a plane while having a good night sleep in your bed (picture that, you went to bed in your comfy and safe room and then you suddenly wake up to find yourself falling from a plane at 30,000 feet high). Then the movie moves on to the story itself, a man that has forgotten to work in his dreams while getting settled in the comfort zone that a good job in one of the most iconic publications in the world, a loving mother and sister and the "khaki" shade of the rainbow can provide. Then a detonator that reminds him of who he wanted to be and an adventure to find himself on the way to look for an unknown image, this last one, working as an allegory of the past spirit and lost essence of the main character, this Walter Mitty guy.

I started speaking about nostalgia because that´s what made me enjoy this movie the most, not for an adventure, I have ran my marathons and climbed my mountains, I have performed as extra for an egyptian soap opera and, although my bucket list it´s not even 40% full, I´m content about what I have accomplished of it so far. In this case, nostalgia came from the accords of a song that made me cry the very first time I listened to it, because of the story, that´s about nostalgia, dressed up as courage to face the uncertain, but it is about nostalgia really, of being home cosy having a hot cocoa and ordering pizza, about doing ordinary things safe and surrounded my the loved ones, warm in the walled limits of the kingdom of home. Ground control to Major Tom, and there I go, my eyes shine like the just polished surface of glass or steal, my heart opes even more and Ben has me, maybe corny, but this is my POV, like a script instruction to the camera, this is what I saw through the lens of my very own eyes, Space Oddity setting the mood for the rest of the film.

The script structure is divided in three parts (not strictly but usually), the first part that´s named Approach, the second is named Development of the Story and the third one is the Outcome. These three parts are defined by the Plot Nodes in between each of them, the first one sets up the conflict that will be disentangled along the second part (that´s usually the longest one of the three) to find the second plot node that will reveal all the details that kept in the dark in the first two parts, that way reaching climax and then the end, this last one the closing element of this structure. Well, this movie is not precisely that; the purpose of the climax is to catch with catharsis and release the tension the writer has been causing us to keep along the movie… I found my climax early, I mean, I had two climaxes, but the first one is the one that made my eyes shiny as mercury, while the main character´s love interest starts to sing Space Oddity and plays the guitar, and encourages Walter to keep up with the daring adventure he just started, because this climax works for him as well, as slow as the song is, the power of it gets his motor on and raging, and throws him to the unknown, which will color his "khaki" world with the intensity of the light and as much colors as the world itself.

I´m not very fond of giving stars or thumbs up, I guess every movie is different for each and everyone of us, based on what we have experienced through our paths, we live fiction in a very intimate way, in this case, worked for me, made the time the movie lasted worth every second spent there and every Euro paid. Consider this, only because I think something´s good or bad, does´t mean it will be good or bad for any of you out there, donut be afraid and experience ugly and beautiful, I have always said that one can not appreciate beauty if one haven´t see horrific first. I´d say jump on the helicopter and go on with your adventure, as for me, I will always do it, no matter how frightening perspectives are.

I like to dance when no one´s watching

I do, I love to dance in my room, in the living room, in the hall, anywhere, I also do it when there´s people around, my one and only best friend and I do it often, especially when we sing along in her Wii to the tunes of Glee, we love it.

I have a story from not so long ago, and I say not so long ago because I´m still pretty young, not super young teenager young, but young, at heart, and sometimes of mind, I just loose it and it is as if I´m turning 16 again, picture that, 16 going on my early thirties, but that is a subject for different post, when we know each other a bit better, I will leave the veils of mistery reveal my true colors little by little, in a slow dance. Anyhow, I was saying, I have a story from when I was around 16 or 17, real 17 years old and that´s what it´s about in these few next lines.

During sundays I´m usually lazy and I enjoy it pretty much, it reminds me of when I was little, almost a baby, when life seems to go extremely slow, but in sundays used to feel as if somebody turned the engine off and everything was going on by mere inertia, every five minutes felt like an hour (unlike today). I´m still very lazy today during sundays, take it extra easy that day, I love to workout and that´s it, I also try to make my bed, and I get to it 85% of the times, but I truly savor the other 15%, like a naughty present from me to me. So there was that sunday, when my sister and I woke up very late and no one was home, as usual we played our favorite music, no conflicts attached, we loved almost the same kind of tunes and artists, we played it loud and we started to dance, because no one was watching, only us but we count as one (we are very close), and I would jump and sing and shake my head and every single muscle of my body. By now, I have to clear out that we were in our PJs, it was a mild day with a shiny sun of 2 pm; since our parents house (I would refer to it as "my house", because it is my house and it always will be) is just a few blocks away from the beach, the sun seemed to shimmer even more that spring day, and there we were, dancing in the kitchen with the biggest window facing the street façade, blinds open to limit and glass clear as water that´s filtered trough rocks for ages. My body in motion and the rythm hitting me and lifting me up in the air for a micro second and then I would turn and I would sing louder… God I love to dance and sing… I would think then, and I say it now… then "ding dong", out of our musical bliss and we turned into marble statues… A very close friend, and of course my ultimate Crush with capital C, was in front of the window only feet away from where I was giving my performance, I mean, doing my part, my sister was pretty intense at doing her´s as well, we are fair and a great team, I would never steal her spotlight, although I would not give her mine, we are just a well balanced couple of brother and sister, we always have, we always will hopefully.

I stopped and now that I see it back in time, I picture an awkward expression in my face, eyes wide open, open mouth and then a smile of embarrassment that at 17 feels like a thousand daggers that hit all at once, but instead of killing, they tickle big time and you must release presure and start laughing, as much as a hidroelectric plant when overcharged needs to release a dense cloud of steam … And we laughed, and my, then 14 or 15 years old, sister ran faster than the Roadrunner with the dumb Coyote behind back to her room. Of course I had to stay, I had to not just stay, I had to proceed to open the door and as red as a tomato make my Crush (with capital C) come in and offer a drink and an explanation… Well, more than an explanation, a mumbling that was more a pleed to make the time turn back and remember to close the blinds. At the end we all laughed and eventually that moment turned into a fun memory that will always live in my sister´s mind, as well as mine.

Now we laugh so much about what happened that sunday afternoon when my Crush (still capital C, I would melt for him every time he showed up… although I was very good at playing cool and uniterested) found me dancing like no one was watching and singing out loud, and I still do it, some times without even noticing it, like a couple of weeks ago, when I found my self in the halls of the most amazing grocery store I have ever been to; picture the most wonderful, sophisticated and luxurious department store you´ve ever visited, take all the clothes and mannequins out and fill it up with food and the most beautiful displays of everything that lays in the world to satisfy the sense of taste, to cast a spell in the sense of smell and captivate the most demanding sense of sight… already done? well, I was there, and I took a few liberties with a kind of known song (it is to me), opened my arms to straight horizontal and started to turn while singing "the aisles are alive with the sound of music", for those few seconds every single person in the store vanished and I was alone with my favorite ingredients (I love to cook) and started to dance, to dance like no one was watching in the middle of a crowded day two days before christmas eve in La Grande Epicerie de Paris.

Introduction to wish making in the western world

I always make a wish, as I see the first opportunity for it I go and picture in the corners of my mind, what would be the most desirable act, thing or feeling I would like to perform, posses or have. It is not just material stuff of course, I may be perceived by others like a materialistic kinda guy, but that is not quite right. it is not that I´m too deep to be perceived right, I stand more in the middle, to be fair, I try to be the best possible person my own person can create every day, I commit mistakes and forget stuff, I even lost my wallet a few weeks ago, great mourning and a complete day of watery eyes took me to recover from such despair… and just yesterday, my eyes were distracted from my belongings and a fellow member of the gym I just got into became a burglar (maybe for opportunity, maybe because of habit) and stole my scarf, a precious one my adoptive parents (emotionally I mean, I have my own ones that work just perfect as such) gave me as xmas present a few years ago in Barcelona. Anyway, I was writing about being distracted some times, and yes, but I try to keep up with the demands of the world and of myself, I make wishes because those are the perfect chance to cover voids that I haven´t been able to cover so far, and also because I truly (TRULY) believe they will come true one way or another.

I make wishes when I blow my bday candle (I recently blew this year´s one, and I made a very big wish), when I see a four leaves clover (very rare to find but they actually exist), a shooting star in the middle of the night and whenever I have the chance to do it, I do it especially when I see consecutive numbers, in car plates, the treadmill while jogging, house numbers, locker numbers (in the gym that is) and my iPhone when checking for the time, among plenty more opportunities. Consecutive numbers are just that, anyone could say, just the logical succession of amounts, but not for me, I really don´t know since when, I have seen the number 11:11 when checking at the time, by day and night (silly me to dare using the 24 hours scheme in the clock, I would miss one chance of making a wish, that is, 23:11 does´t count for me). After a long while I realized that this number was being very persistent during my days and weeks, not just in the time of the day by then, but with everything else that could be numbered.

I remember one day not so long ago when I was a teenager, someone told me to make a wish at 11:11, I didn´t ask and went for it, what did I have to loose? nothing at all, on the other hand, I would win the lottery. After making wishes and after realizing that the number 11 was kinda following me, I started to inquire into it more and more, and I found out some curious details: 11 is a master number, "the number 11 symbolizes the potential to push the limitations of the human experience into the stratosphere of the highest spiritual perception; the link between the mortal and the immortal; between man and spirit; between darkness and light; ignorance and enlightenment. That is the ultimate symbolic power of the 11". Kinda dense and ultra spiritual, but at the end, that´s what I found, this is just me quoting, nothing else, and after countless webpages and a couple of books in the matter, I can define 11:11 or 11/11 or 1111, like a hint of the universe letting us know that is paying attention, in that time of the day, well,  is the time when you can speak and be heard, and this does´t mean that the rest of the 1439 minutes of the day we are being ignored, it is just that they are more attentive of our words, actions and thoughts, also, why not, wishes.

So, the meaning of that 1111 in my blog tittle is just that I believe that anything can come true, doesn´t matter how weird and impossible whatever it is that I wish seems at the time. Each and everyone of us can give any connotation to anything, and I really wish right now, starting this blog and finishing today´s post, that all that we all wish that is good for us and does´t affect anyone else, comes true and makes us as happy as we deserve to be.