Wouldn’t it be lovely: Ireland

P.S. I Love You

Earlier today, I watched The Bounty Hunter. As I was considering whether or not I actually liked the movie, I looked up Gerard Butler’s IMBD listing, and, of course, wanted to re-watch every one of his movies. Mostly, I was dying to watch P.S. I Love You, which I haven’t watched in more than six months. (I so love that movie.)

Instead, I dutifully edited a paper that I have to turn in tomorrow, and kinda-sorta prepped for tomorrow’s exam (Modern Brit Lit).  I think I’ll be alright, the test is comprised of essay questions, and I’m a fairly good BS-er.

So I watched P.S. I Love You while writing notecards. Which brings us to tonight’s armchair-travel destination: Ireland.

Allihies, County Cork
Baltimore, Ireland (who knew there was a Baltimore in Ireland? Well, the Irish. Obviously.)
Just north of Dublin, Ireland
Bingley, Ireland
Clifden Castle, County Galway

Wouldn’t it be lovely? I know it isn’t feasible at the moment, but someday I’ll certainly go.

On a completely different note: the author of P. S. I Love You, Cecelia Ahern, finished the novel when she was 21. Do facts like that make you want to curl up and die, or is it just me?  I can’t even imagine… and maybe that’s my problem.

(Rotten Tomatoes hates this one too: 23% fresh from the critics, 82% fresh from the audience.)

P.S. I Love You: breakin’ it down

  • Gender stuff:
    It’s hard for me to judge on this, because the movie is about working through couple relationships, so it foregrounds the ins-and-outs and day-to-day. If that makes sense. Not to sound all gushy, but the relationship foundation seems to be affection, not control. So maybe it’s a fairy tale (maybe I’m a little cynical) but I’m not sure if there is anything to criticize here. (There is always something to criticize. I know. But nothing seems all that horrid.)
  • LGBTQ stuff:
    Well, “alternative lifestyles” are at least  in the movie, which is an improvement over The Bounty Hunter. Holly and her friends go to a gay bar on her first excursion after Gerry’s death, where a bunch of middle-aged men commiserate with Holly on her loss; AIDS isn’t mentioned, but it’s easy to figure out why these New Yorkers had all lost loved ones within the last 15 years. (I always get Rent songs in my head when watching this. And that shows you just how dated my cultural references are.) On the other hand, all of the major characters are hetero, and the gay bar is kind of an excursion into an alternative “party world,” a space diametrically opposed to the “real world.” Which is possibly problematic, depending on how you opine queer assimilation.
  • Race stuff:
    Wow, this movie is monochromatic. Gerry is Irish, Holly is Irish-American, her friends are all a whiter shade of pale. I can’t think of a character in the movie that isn’t as pale as skim milk.

Such a great movie. And I’ve seen (and love) all of the b&w movies that she watches while mourning, which makes me feel super cool (Angel Face, and Jezebel, and A Star is Born… and some others, I’m sure. The “I’ll make him survive!” is Jezebel; the great shoes are from Now, Voyager, the birthday solo is from A Star is Born.) And she wears such great hats. Like, constantly. And coats. And boots. And shoes. And lordy lordy, I want that apartment. I love the painted dressers and the distressed brick and the candles. So gorgeous. The ghost doesn’t hurt any, either.

Long story short: (A) I wish I could go to Ireland, if for no other reason than to avoid my quickly approaching final. (B) I love love LOVE this movie. Just in case you didn’t pick up on that before. (C) I’m exhausted, and so, my friends, good night.

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