sovay: (Psholtii: in a bad mood)
sovay ([personal profile] sovay) wrote2010-07-15 03:04 am

Your beautiful pen, take the cap off

Peter Greenaway's The Pillow Book (1996) is the natural progression from Prospero's Books (1991), one of the most thoroughly erotic movies I have ever seen, and I would have a lot more to say about it if I hadn't found out, shortly after [livejournal.com profile] rushthatspeaks and I finished watching and [livejournal.com profile] gaudior came home, that their moving company had turned themselves into fail.

At some point in the night, I remember saying to [livejournal.com profile] reversepolarity, "Today has been brought to you by the numbers duct tape, boxes, and the letter what the fuck."

The move will happen and my cousins are amazing, but I stand by the description.

[identity profile] ron-drummond.livejournal.com 2010-07-15 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Sorry to hear of moving troubles, those can be the worst kind of all -- best to Rush and family and friends.

I loved The Pillow Book when I saw it ten+ years ago (it seems like it must have been that long ago at least) -- I suddenly realized that I cannot recall the occasion, but the film remains vivid. I only saw Prospero's Books for the first time a few months ago, but I can well imagine that they form a strong pair and progression. The ending of the later made of the two is so perfectly apt and yet so horrific that it seemed to simultaneously ruin what went before but also fulfill it, so that everything wonderful about the film was really only possible because of how it ended, but now having written that I'm thinking I'm forgetting or misremembering too much and simply must watch it again, watch both of them again.