Lucy McKendrick’s Fuck Me, Richard

For my Substack: I wrote about Fuck Me, Richard, a new short film which just premiered at SXSW.

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6 Responses to Lucy McKendrick’s Fuck Me, Richard

  1. Clary says:

    Oh, what a beautiful (and true) piece of writing. The conection with Brief Encounter, haunting. The different forms of loneliness are unexpected, the lone loneliness, the one when you’re surrounded by people, the one when you’re trapped in a lonely marriage, the happy loneliness, the supposedly happy loneliness, I guess there are many more.
    My brother went to a funeral of a 90 years old lady, where there were just 7 people accompanying the coffin, he told me how horrorized he was about the lack of friends, family, friends of the family. I told him I can understand such a situation, having lived alone for many years, human condition offers a wide fan of possibilities, not all of them elected. He retorted I live in a literary world, that in the real world that is outrageous, it doesn’t matter the circumstances, THAT’s the human condition.
    “Sally doesn’t realize yet how much she’s been altered. How she’s been undone by so little. ” How sad.

    • sheila says:

      Clary – what a thoughtful comment. I have thought too about reaching the age of 90 – where everyone you knew is dead – where your children are now in their 70s – and perhaps have died before you. It’s amazing what humans can endure.

      I remember in high school a friend of mine’s grandmother died. Me and my friends all took the morning off school to go to the funeral to support her. As we left the church, I saw a little old man – have no idea how old – I was 16 so he seemed ancient – he was probably in his 70s – and he was standing in his pew, head down, and tears of loss were pouring down his face. My friend’s grandmother was obviously his good friend.

      The moment made a huge impression on me and I will never forget that man. I guess I somehow thought – with the blindness of youth – that at a certain point you’re “beyond” all that, and old people didn’t have the same feelings as young people – and … once you’re old, you know you’re going to die, so it’s all expected, and so … why cry about it? I mean, I never would have put that into words like that – but there was a reason his tears made an impression on me. I remember the feeling. He looked so sad. He will miss his friend. my understanding of life and loss expanded. It doesn’t matter that you’re old. You will still grieve your friend.

      Thanks so much for reading and commenting.

      • Clary says:

        Yes, I can guess he cried for his friend and for himself, thinking how lonely his future would look without his friend.
        I cherish those moments of acknowledging when a young person discovers the world is bigger than him/herself.
        On the same topic, a curiosity: I recently read that there were just 13 people at Karl Marx’s funeral.

  2. DBW says:

    Truly a wonderful piece of writing. One of your very best.

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