Last week on the way into the Kentucky Theater, my group of cultural events and dining-out ladies met up with some seldom seen friends. They commented, among other things, on how much they enjoyed my columns and that I should keep writing. In response, I said that the next deadline was nearly upon me and I had nothing in mind to write about.
We all proceeded to our separate seats, but on the way out, we met the same couple. Their comment was, “Now, you have something to write about.” And I do.
There have been a number of interesting looking movies this winter. When we go to the movies, we sit through the previews with various reactions. Some are: “let’s not bother with this” and “on us they shouldn’t count.” But this year we decided to see a few.
Among us, opinions vary.
One person will see only happy endings. None of us likes violence. Music matters to most of us. One’s sister-in-law owns a theater in California; she sees everything and sends her opinion, and the nominees for awards tease us into some bloopers. Afterwards, we discuss our opinions, and they differ too.
That day we saw “Quartet.” There were no differences in opinion. It was a delightful, moving experience. The movie was produced in England where they make such good use of their aging actors, which we don’t in this country. Take for example the casts of “Downton Abbey” and “Upstairs Downstairs,” whom we have taken into our lives as if they were family.
This story was about retired musicians who lived in a beautiful mansion, donated by a music lover who cared about what happens to artists when their careers are over. The cast included Maggie Smith (whom everybody knows) and some equally talented actors unknown to most of us.
The movie was rated R to my surprise. I was aware of some naughty but frequently heard words and a couple of references to past affairs, but it was an R-rating which nobody alive today would assign it.
What I want to mention especially was the sensitive treatment it paid to the formerly famous and appreciated stars whose days of performing were over, who could talk of their having taken 12 or 14 curtain calls in former times and sigh over the loss of fame. In the course of events, they had a concert to raise funds so their lifestyle could be maintained. To see their faces in reaction to the applause, which had been obviously their drug of choice, was emotionally stirring to the whole audience. Our group contained a former concert pianist who no longer plays and two singers who no longer sing, so we reacted especially to that, but the movie also treated symptoms of many of the aging experience – failing memories, trips to the bedroom in the night, loss of hearing, vision and balance.
While I was writing this, a young friend (yes, I have some) called to thank me for recommending this movie. She and her husband loved it as we did, and she said they would have missed it, but for my raving.
It may not stay here very long, but in this day of reruns, look for it and remember that I said it was a wonderful way to spend an evening. I’ll be doing that too.