Saturday I did something I’ve never done before: I rushed a TIFF movie.
The movie: The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
The company: Comely and delightful fellow #30posts essayer Dawn.
The beverages: Lattés.
We waited in the rush line, talked about things, endured some rain, got a glimpse of Johnny Depp driving away, and so on and so forth.
I had never read the book the movie is based on, but by all accounts it’s one of those books, the ones that leave a dent. It was like that for Dawn. It was like that for the people behind us in line.
The coming-of-age narrative is a special thing. A great thing. I like them to the point that I watch and rewatch them and then watch them again. When The Perks of Being a Wallflower comes out on DVD, I’ll buy it and watch it a handful of times. They will be good times; they will be good viewings.
I’m purposely not talking too much about the movie and/or its plot because I’m not a film critic (anymore). I really just want to key one one line of dialogue:
We accept the love we think we deserve.
When I heard this line I thought a lot of things. Since I’ve heard this line, I’ve thought a lot more. And so, instead of filling in the rest of this post with this, that, or the other, I merely want you to think about the idea that we accept the love we think we deserve. Think about it; muse on the idea; bat it around a bit. I’ll continue thinking about it, at length, shortly. But I’d like to know what you think first.
This is the tenth post in my #30posts challenge. Don’t know what that is? Read this.