While you were busy wasting away yet another weekend in your pointless lives, waiting in queues to get popcorn to go with your superhero formula-bullshit (3D), I watched Submarine. It’s based on a book by Joe Dunthorne, who can now be added to the small list of people (Salinger, Hornby, Amis) with the ability to capture the beautiful agony of young love.
I’m not the kind of fool who’s going to sit and review it for you. You probably won’t like it anyway. But for some reason, it has stayed with me for a few days. It had a strange, unsettling effect, especially the girl. Perhaps it reminded me of some things I was starting to forget. In one scene, the boy is sitting in his house, staring at the door, waiting for the girl to ring the bell. It lasts about 5 seconds, and in those 5 seconds, my fantastic brain somehow slowed down time to run a full disk scan and came up with 5 different stories it thought I would find relevant and helpful in that moment. Little piece of shit.
No, I’m not going to tell you what they were. Not like there’s exciting shit to tell, anyway. One of them had me walking around the city for six fucking hours, waiting for the phone to ring. I took apart the battery and shit and put it back again, even called my mother, just to check if it was working. Sat around smoking like a miserable little cunt.
Oh, what the hell. Looking back, those were interesting times. Promising, tantalizing, heartbreaking times. More interesting that sitting around in an over-airconditioned glass palace and staring at idiots talk bullshit all day.
The entire soundtrack is by Alex Turner, and it’s absolutely fucking stunning. Maybe that’s what it was about the movie. I don’t know how someone can keep writing stuff like that. And all I can do is steal his lines and put them in a shitty old blog.
Yes, I felt like swearing today. One of those days. What’s your fucking problem.