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Anthony Hopkins: "The Father"

 Well, we liked "The Father." It's unusual. It's about a man who requires regular care (at least according to his daughter). The man has become forgetful; he is always misplacing his watch; he can't remember which country a loved one lives in; he sometimes feels that his dead mother is alive.

A new, young aide arrives; the father is moved by her beauty and becomes flirtatious. He claims to have once been a professional tap dancer. He wants a glass of whiskey.

But, also, the young aide reminds the father of another relative, who is clearly dead. ("Where is she?") This memory seems to trigger some anger--and the father lashes out. ("What's with your inane little laugh?")

Meanwhile, the father's advocate, Olivia Colman, smiles bravely through tears. No one on the planet is better at feigning the-brave-smile-through-tears.

Anthony Hopkins is so brilliant in this movie: difficult, charming, vulnerable, frightening, savvy, calculating. He finds the dignity in his character; he doesn't become cartoonish. And the writing matches his performance: It's a thrill to try to determine what is real and what is imagined, where and when a certain conversation might have happened, what is a memory or a dream, which face belongs to which player in the father's real life.

This is a movie to watch with Kleenex. Recommended.

P.S. Sondheim's "Follies" is the subject of three pieces in the NYT this week. "Follies" turns fifty years old this month. I appreciate the writing--which celebrates my favorite (I think?) Sondheim musical. The critics point out that Sondheim's parody songs ("Losing My Mind," "I'm Still Here") are actually stronger than the work Sondheim was parodying (Gershwin's songs, Arlen's songs). These pieces in the Times overlook some masterworks from the show: "The Road You Didn't Take," "In Buddy's Eyes," "Could I Leave You?" and "You're Gonna Love Tomorrow." Since high school, I've been especially moved by "Could I Leave You?" -- a detailed, Joan Didion-ish declaration of war. A woman considers her faithless husband. "Could I leave you?" ....She proceeds to take apart several small words, such as "you":

Your shelves of the world's best books....
And the evenings of martyred looks...
Cryptic sighs....
Sullen glares from those injured eyes....
Jokes with a sting...
Quips with a sneer...
Passionless lovemaking once a year....

The speaker looks at the verb "leave":

How could I leave....when I left long ago, love? (I had an affair.)

And, "leave" can take *many* direct objects:

You could leave me the house....
Leave me the flat....
Leave me the Braques and Chagalls and all that....
You could leave me the stocks, for sentiment's sake....
And ninety percent of the money you make....

Finally, the speaker looks at the word "could," and she admits it reminds her of her Divided Self:

COULD I leave you? Yes...
WILL I leave you?
Will *I* leave you?
Guess.....

Love, love, love that song.

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