“It’s always been you, Charlie.”
I just found this screenshot on my photo library, I am not even sure how it ended there, but I thought I would write a post about one of my favorite films.
Four Weddings and a Funeral came out in 1994 and it was one of the first films I ever watched in English, with Spanish Subtitles. I must have been around 15 years old when the film was made available to borrow in VHS at my local library.
There are a number of moving love stories and interpretations on this film but none them come from the two main characters. If anything, Andie Macdowell and Hugh Grant’s story works as a mildly amusing but hard to believe backdrop for the “serious” and “deep” stories.
Kristin Scott Thomas part for Fiona on this scene, for instance.
– How about you, Fifi? Have you identified a future partner for life yet?
No need, really. The deed is done. I’ve been in love with the same bloke for ages.
– Have you? Who’s that?
You, Charlie. It’s always been you. Since first we met so many years ago. I knew the first moment. Across a crowded room. A lawn, in fact. Doesn’t matter. Nothing either of us can do on this one. Such is life. Friends isn’t bad, you know. Friends is quite something.
– Oh, Fi…
It’s not all easy, is it?
Tom’s (James Fleet) “low profile & low expectations” approach to finding love:
Well, I don’t know, Charlie. The truth is, unlike you, I never expected the thunderbolt.
I always just hoped that l’d meet some nice, friendly girl, Iike the look of her, hope the look of me didn’t make her physically sick, then pop the question and settle down and be happy.
It worked for my parents. Well, apart from the divorce…
And, of course, Matthew’s (John Hannah) tribute at Gareth’s funeral.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,W. H. Auden
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I registered a new site: https://fontanars.wordpress.com/
Old friends, old friends,Old Friends
Sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes
of the high shoes of the old friends
Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends
Can you imagine us years from today,
Sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy
Old friends, memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fears
Simon & Garfunkel