Fremont is about Donya, a young woman who emigrated to Fremont from Afghanistan after working for the US army.
She reminded me of myself, which is strange because that hardly ever happens when I watch anything.
The dialogue is minimal, but effective. It was almost strange to watch because the dialogue is at the forefront of everything. There is background noise sometimes, but never music while the characters are talking, and I liked that. It made me feel like the person who made the movie trusted me to take the words as I wanted to, without being influenced by whatever is playing underneath it. It’s like being in a bubble and every word matters so much more than usual.
Her psychiatrist asks her “most people who live in Fremont, work in Fremont. But you go to San Francisco for work, why?”
And she says something along the lines of, “the first people I see when I wake up are Afghans, the last people I see before I go to bed are afghans. I think it’s good to see other people during the day, like Chinese people”. I liked that. And I do agree, even though I’ve yet to do anything about it.
She reminds me of myself in the way she interacts with the world, and people. And in particular, the way she interacts with people she likes, or to the extent of the movie, are curious about. She meets a mechanic because she needed an oil change. She “sort of” has lunch with him (at separate tables), but goes back twice to the garage to see him. The first time she goes back, she goes into the office, even though she didn’t need anything. The second time she goes back, she walks around the whole place basically until she finds him at the very back of the shop. Each time, it seems that she gets bolder, and more sure of herself. She even gives him a strange present at the end, and didn’t seem to think much of the implications at all. And so, she reminded me of myself. In a good way.
The movie was well received by film critics, from what I’ve seen. The Los Angeles Times said, “the film is a cross-cultural comedy that explores the freedom of being lost and the exhilaration of finding oneself.” And The New Yorker said, “It’s more of a study in solitude. (…) Donya stands beneath a tree, in a luminous haze of sunlight, beside the busted shell of a car with no wheels and an abandoned armchair. In America, her newfound land, even the things are alone. “
I’m not entirely sure about “the exhilaration of finding oneself”. That sounds more like some “Eat Pray Love” type trope. I’ll admit she is probably “finding herself”. She’s all alone in a foreign country after all, but not in the common sense of the phrase. I think she knows who she is and who she wants to be.
She is determined, and has a whole lot of courage to do things. And a whole lot of faith too. She understands that she feels lonely, rejected even by some in her own community, but she is not fatalistic, nor does she pity herself. At the same time though, she is also not overly optimistic, she really isn’t “too much” of anything. Maybe some people would think she is naive, because she drove all the way to Bakersfield, thinking someone responded to her. Naïveté is, I think, when people act in a way where they are completely unaware of the negative consequences, or do not think of the consequences at all. She does, she almost doesn’t go, and when she does, she practiced meticulously the night before. She is a reserved realist with a lot of faith. And I liked that a lot about her.
土曜日は友達とその彼とウチら、4人で人工湖兼貯水池のLake Del Valleに行ってきた。車で1時間ほどかかる、割と行きやすいところだ。道中は枯れ草が生えている丘の間を通り、牛やら馬やらがいるようなところをすり抜けて行き着くような、電波が届かない場所だ。前々から私が運転すると決まっていたので、ほとんどそのためだけにSpotifyプレミアムのお試しに加入して、プレイリストを作った。洋楽が多いけど、邦楽も少し入れていて、宇多田ヒカルが多分10曲くらい入っている。それがかかった時、友達の彼が鼻歌を一緒に歌っていた。サクラドロップスとか、COLORSとか、マイナーめな曲も知っていることに結構びっくりしたけれど、人の車で鼻歌が歌えることにもびっくりした。かわいかった。「初恋」はNetflixのドラマFirst Loveで二人とも知っていたらしく、「面白かった？」と聞いたら、「(彼は)すごく気に入っちゃって、ドラマ見て泣くような人だったら絶対号泣していた」と友達にイジられていた。
月曜日はThe New Yorkerの発行日。図書館経由で、Libbyというアプリでバックナンバーも最新号も電子書籍として、無料で手に入る。暇なときは、毎号必ず入っている短編小説を読んだりする。政治、フィクション、アートなど、幅広く取り扱う雑誌で、「シャーロットのおくりもの」のE.B. ホワイトや「ロリータ」のウラジミール・ナボコフも記事を書いている、一流中の一流雑誌。日本に住んでいた時ちょっとだけ購読していたこともある。もちろん、雑誌だから記事によって書いている人は違うけれど、どれも文章がうまい。語彙力がないからうまいの一言しかない。読んでいると、職人がろくろに向かって丹念に粘土を成形して行く姿を見ているような気持ちになる。西海岸には、The New Yorkerに匹敵する雑誌はまだない。出版界が廃れていく一方の今、これからできるというのは考えにくい。
今週発売の9月4日号はAnimalsをテーマに厳選された過去記事から成る一冊で、愉快な気持ちになる。古いものは1934年のDefence of Cats (犬派猫派バトルが展開されているエッセイ)や、ナボコフが書いたButterflies(1948年)という、生涯続けていた蝶の収集の話、フィクションは村上春樹の「象の消滅」が掲載された。本当に充実した一冊となっている。
One of the first things I learned was not to depend on others for the growth of my collection. Aunts, however, kept making me ridiculous presents—such as Denton mounts of gaudy but really quite ordinary insects. Our country doctor, with whom I had left the pupae of a rare moth when I went on a journey abroad, wrote me that everything had hatched finely, but in reality a mouse had got at the precious pupae, and upon my return the deceitful old man produced some common tortoise-shell butterflies, which, I presume, he had hurriedly caught in his garden and popped into the breeding cage as plausible substitutes—so he thought.
