A Film to Remember.

I recorded several films over the Christmas period to help wile away the long winter nights out here in the country. I watched the last of them tonight. It happened to be the first one I’d recorded, and I’d left it because it was the one I leased fancied. How good it is to be wrong sometimes. It was called Stranger than Fiction, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

This is a most compelling film about a man who is both real and also the main character in an author’s latest novel-in-progress. The characters are my kind of people:

The IRS agent was my kind of civil servant: totally anal to begin with, but with an open heart and the capacity for redemption. (I used to do his job, for heaven’s sake! I’m well acquainted with the dynamics of his world.)

The woman who runs the bakery was my kind of woman: anarchic, free thinking, strong willed, and beautiful in body, mind and spirit.

The psychotherapist was my kind of psychotherapist: clueless and predictable who quickly left the stage – for this relief, much thanks.

The literary expert was my kind of expert: often wrong but with the grace to admit it and move forward.

The author was my kind of author: a frustrated chain smoker teetering on the edge of insanity, but with a heart of gold.

The plot was my kind of plot: blurring the line between two forms of reality until it becomes impossible to make rational sense of it, but yet saying rather more about the better side of the human condition than most regular films. Let’s face it, the truly enquiring mind is bound to reach a point where there is no sense to be made of reality if reason is the only tool. Ask any quantum physicist.

Best of all: the feel-good factor at the end had me standing in appreciation.

This is a quirky, romantic, philosophical, beautiful film. Give it a try some time.