“Love is a stream. It’s continuous. It doesn’t stop.”
“Oh, no, it does stop.”
“Oh, no, it does NOT stop.”
— Love Streams, directed by John Cassavetes, 1984
Alex had never seen it. How could she? It hadn’t even been properly released on DVD or VHS until Criterion came out with its edition. It was thrilling to watch it with her.
One time when she was staying with me, we went on a Cassavetes binge and watched Woman Under the Influence and Opening Night on the same day. It took us all day to get through the movies because we had to keep stopping and pausing, to discuss. At one point, we both were sitting on the floor, riveted by Woman, and I heard this strange tapping sound in the room. I couldn’t figure out what it was. Then I glanced at Alex. She sat there, hunched over, legs crossed, eyes up on the TV screen, and she was nervously and compulsively tapping on her front tooth.
“Could you please stop doing that.”
“No. I honestly can’t.”
“Please stop.”
“I can’t stop.”
That’s the effect Rowlands/Cassavetes has on us.
I sure get that – I was freaking out over Gena in “Woman” – scared for her, scared for me. Never has the line between sane and everything else been so fine.
On a completely different movie note, I rewatched “Woman Times Seven” last night and was cackling with hauty disdain, even though I have affection for Shirley MacLaine as a person, if not for most of her filmography. Vittorio de Sica directed. Have you and Alex seen it? It’s a hoot. Totally ridiculous and about the most annoying score of any movie EVER – tuba is predominant. Shirley plays seven different women in seven different stories. Some of them are rather hilarious (she wears the same outfit to the Paris Opera as her number one nemesis), some sad, some blah – but all worth a thorough Sheila/Alex case study.
XXX Stevie