50% bitter, 50% sweet...

... and 100% let's weep till our nostrils clog up and we can't sleep because of a lack of proper breathing, then finally fall asleep leaving behind us [on our bedside table] a trail of wet tissue paper.

So here I am, wrapping my hands around the warmth of my hot cocoa [flavored blueberry, by the way, and simply divvvine, [to be said in Cousin Violet's voice,], thank you Nadine, I love it] and writing to you Monday Movie Night [something that I seem to be ripping off one of the MBC channels, with their [now dead, I think?] Thursday's Girl's Night In. Oh wait, they are unrelated. Forgive thee.]

So 50/50 is based on a true story. [That's the movie we're discussing, in case you're not following.] I won't spoil anything, nor will I provide you with an overview of the movie. That's for Imdb. I ain't no Imdb.

But you see the overview itself describes everything about the movie. So I feel like I have nothing to add. 

A man discovers that he has cancer. Suddenly, his entourage begins to respond to this discovery, and leads him onto the path of recovery?

Pity, grief, depression, pain, suffering, passion and friendships surface. Oh... and love. 

The love of a best friend, who, despite appearing to be a million times more afraid than the patient, never ceases to laugh, and tease, and take life, in its most bitter of farces, as the funniest of jokes. That is love. 

The love of a mother, who, despite being smothering, cannot go on, knowing that her only child is facing the death sentence alone. Because she brought him to this world. How could she stand there and watch him leave before her, because of a surprise. A surprise, a clown that popped out of its box, at the wrong time of life, with dreary, drooling make up, and frightful eyes, all black everything, his palms open and his fingernails long and pointy. That is love.

The love of newly acquired friends facing the same death sentence, with the smiling acceptance that things are the way they are, in life. With an encouragement, almost, a reminder that hope is not pricey, that the 50/50 is in fact but a number, and that only the future tells of whether survival is at hand or not. That is love.

The love of a young psychiatrist, a little awkward and a little disorganized, but whose words undoubtedly pierce through the shell of self-doubt and gloom. That is love.  

[I won't talk about the girlfriend. Because she didn't give love. The only thing she gave was pity and even that was ever so selfish I do not think she was could take part in my love circle.]

And I... well, I loved the movie. Perhaps it was because of all the love. Or the laughter in the most inappropriate of situations. The laughter in the most bitter of stances. Or the tears that were shed. Or the fact that Joseph Gordon-Levitt and I have the same headphones [something you can only notice upon watching the movie for a second time.] I loved the movie. 

It was all anguish. All, terrible, terrible anguish. And a real story, too, which makes the impact of the movie all the more real. This is what a real* person went through. And what millions go through everyday. But that story proves, that anguish, no matter how fatal it gets, when faced with a group, loses strands of its "terribleness". And that is what this movie is about. It is a movie about hope. A movie about love. And that's all there is to it.

NB: In the December 2012 issue of Vogue USA, there is a cover story on "Les Miserables" with [also, simply divine] photographs taken by Annie Lebowitz. Next to Amanda Seyfried's portrait as Cosette is her caption, where she states that Les Mis "is really one big love story." Yes she's probably right. 

[But well, the movie [and really, Hugo's novel] depicts the miserable lives of miserable people who wallow in the misery of their fatal flaws. I mean, hello. If there's one thing I remember from my Shakespeare class, it's the fatal flaw, and that's exactly what Jean Valjean has. So perhaps it is more misery than love? I don't know, I'm just throwing that out there.]

Anyhow, to me, Will Reiser's* story, with the fictitious bits, and the real bits, may not be a love story, but it certainly is a story of love. 

And you have to give credits to the actors, one of which [I'll leave you guessing] shaved his head live before the camera, for the scene where he was supposed to shave off his hair.

With that said, I leave you, I love you, and good night.


*Will Reiser is the writer. This is his story. And he was encouraged to write it by none other than his real-life best friend and the actor who played himself in the movie, Seth Rogen.


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