Saint Valentine's Sweet Life.

I.
Today I celebrated the martyrdom of St. Valentine and last day of unemployment by watching two movies: La Dolce Vita et F for Fake. They were both great. The former chronicles a week in the life of a journalist, Marcello, who is struggling to find meaning in his life. He tries to fill this percieved meaningless with women. He's kind of misogynistic, but in the end I feel for him despite this. One scene in particular struck me as beautiful. Marcello, his date, and his father are having dinner at a restraunt. A lone trumpeter, dressed as a sad vaudevillian enters through these large doors. He plays a terribly sad tune to his feet, which are shuffling toward the centre of the room where balloons lay scattered about. Everyone is quiet watching. He continues his lament through the horn, and the ballons begin to bob around his ankles. Slowly as he came, he begins to shuffle out of the room. Halfway to the doors, he nods at the ballons which all become animate and follow him out of the room. Also: this is the movie that coined the term paparazzi.

F for Fake was something completely different than i've ever seen. Described as a "Free-Form Documentary" it's a frantic potrayal of an art forger, as well as a critique on superficiality in the art market. Honestly, I found it hard to watch. There are quick cuts all over the place, superimpoition and voice overs. One conversation is constantly flowing into another. And the structure drops in and out of documenting Elmyr de Hory's career as an art forger and Orson Welles' narrative on what should be considered reality and what shouldn't. It is crazy. Also: worth watching. I understood it much better upon reflection.