I was channel surfing.
Something on Link Tv looked and sounded familiar.
It was Chris Landreth's film on Ryan Larkin, the animation genius.
In the late 60's Ryan Larkin was nominated for the Academy Awards for his film called 'Walking'.
I'm feeling tired after watching the film and the documentary about the film.
Ryan Larkin now lives off the streets.
He became a dipsomaniac somewhere along the way and now lives off the streets.
They said, this is the worst thing to happen to an artist.
Landreth's film has these half fleshed characteres. The face is only half. That's it. Only flesh on half the face and the other half, it doesn't exist.
It doesn't feel like a film.
I guess it really isn't.
It's the truth staring right back at you.
Like looking in a dirty mirror. All your horrors looking at their reflection, that's what you are.
How often does a documentary about one single person leave you in tears?
His face quivers as though he's talking but the words really come out only 7 seconds later.
He begs on the streets. And he says nonchalantly, the most often asked question is, 'why don't you get a job?' and he tells them to either leave their spare change or just move down the street.
In the end Landreth goes to show him the film. Goes to show Ryan a film about him, based on actual interviews and characters generated from the interview. Life and art intermingling and who knows who's imitating whom?
Ryan was left speechless after watching it.
His last words in the documentary?
'Well, I guess I want out'.
I feel caterpillars under my skin
This morning in yoga class I made a friend.
We're meeting up on Wednesday for dinner. I offered to help cook and bring dessert and some wine. Looking forward to it, should be lots of fun. I was feeling really enthusiastic about everything till earlier this evening. Just watching this film has managed to completely drain me out. How does one accomplish that, as a film maker? Does the film have to be as close to reality as possible?
Like you were watching the person's life itself?
I'm listening to my favourite Dylan song sent to me by a kind fellow blogger. If you're reading this, thanks again!
Alright then, my last week here has begun. Next week this time I will be nowhere. It's really something like that. The total time I'll spend travelling is I don't know what, but it translates to 30 hours. I'm reading Bolivian Diaries, part of the bigger Motorcycle diaries of Che Guevara that were not included in the film. It's intriguing.
( 10 minutes later)
I think I know how I feel after watching the film Ryan.
I feel as though I were driving down a beautiful highway and it began to rain. It was a harbinger, I drove on and the rain became almost fierce. I couldn't see clearly and the wipers were having a tought time fighting the force of the pouring rain. And I saw something red on the other side of the road. 7 seconds later I realised it was a body, rolled up backwards, from an accident.
Yeah, that's how I feel.