There’s this one vignette in New York I Love You about an aging opera singer who’s returned to an old, favourite hotel. I feel strangely stirred by it. Shia LaBeouf broke my heart. His disturbing limp, sad eyes, shy smile and especially, his gentleness.
I don’t understand the story. Maybe because of that, the story had been haunting-in a curiously calm way.
I love how the director chose unremarkable angles to rest his frames. Like a shadowed white wall by the stairs, with a view of the elevator tucked away in a small distant corner right of the frame. It wasn’t overtly artsy. But because of that, the whole effect had been exceptionally artsy. (That must be a new strategy, huh!)
His frames made me think of little polaroids, but with moving subjects. Like the photographs in Harry Potter’s world.
I really don’t understand the story. I don’t know what is up with the crippled bellhop falling over the balustrade to his death. But the imagery was almost divine. The glaring white of the window subtracting the silhouette of the bellhop as he limped towards it saying, “I don’t know how you bear it.” And that suspended moment when you know something has happened but you don’t know what, to the point you realize he had fallen over, because Julie Christie had jumped up in horror, dropping her champagne glass in the process. At that point, my heart suspended a few inches from the opposite side of my ribcage.
I’m officially into filming now.