I was excited this afternoon when I walked past the theatre and found Leonard Cohen's "I'm your man" was finally playing here. I spent the afternoon studying in the coffee shop next door. At dusk, when I came outside for another cigarette I saw audiences lining up outside the theatre for the movie. NONE of them was below 50. I'm dead serious. no one. And there weren't many ppl actually, there was a line only because everyone was moving so incredibly slowly. I felt a lethal blow to my self-image. This is the movie I was getting excited about. I told my friend about this and she said, "no, when I saw it in DC there are many younger guys there." I said ok, then she added, "although they are all gay." At 9:30pm when the light dimmed the audience consisted three old couples, a nerdy mid-age man who looked like a series killer in desperate need of a bath, and me. I coughed and I heard echo in the theatre. The movie opened with Cohen's own redition of "Waiting for a Miracle", then followed by "I'm your man" by Nick Drake. As much as I like Nick Drake he's not the right person for this song, he doesn't have the suave, brazenness or desperation for it to work. Or I'd crawl to you baby And I'd fall at your feet And I'd howl at your beauty Like a dog in heat And I'd claw at your heart And I'd tear at your sheet I'd say please, please It's just wrong, for these words to come out of his mouth. But "the Traitor" by Martha Wainwright was when it started to get me. I took off my glasses, buried my face in my hand and let the shivers filter thru me like repeated electric shock. I probably missed half of the moive by immersing myself in the songs with my eyes closed. When it came to "If it be your will" by Antony I found warm tears filled up my eyes. It's definately a good idea to come alone, it's not good for my self-esteem for anyone to witness that. I never knew Teddy Thompson can be so sensual: You kept right on loving, I went on a fast,now I am too thin and your love is too vast.But I know from your eyesand I know from your smilethat tonight will be fine,will be fine, will be fine, will be finefor a while. But Bono bugged me thru-out, being utterly pretentious and stupid making those all-too-obvious comments. I like how he talked about as poets they used to feel like "unacknowledged legislators"; how he shaved his head and wore robe everyday, and got up really early every monring hating everyone but faked pleasantness all day when he was a monk, and his last comment: "To say I am a ladies' man is a joke, which makes me laugh bitterly thru the thousands of night I spent alone."---After dark it started to rain, augmented into a downpour, and eventually faded into midnight drizzling. The smell of deep fall permeates in the air. I went downstairs for a cigarette with earphone and Corona in hand. I listened to Coldplay's "Scientist" again. I first heard this song a year ago. Coldplay in general is too slow and melodramatic for me but I like this particular song. The lyrics of this song didn't even make sense to me, a former and failed scientist, but I liked the flow. Standing in the chilly midnight air and listening to this song again after forgetting about it for quite a while, I was reminded of the memorable time a year ago. Saturday games, random drinking party ended in profusive vomiting and suicidal depression, and the nose dive into 1L life dazed and confused, but nonetheless utterly unfazed. I remembered I was relatively happy but hopelessly lonely. Which reminds me of Leonard Cohen's last comment in his movie, "To say I'm a ladies' man is a joke, which makes me laugh bitterly thru they thousands of nights I spent alone." Now what is it that makes him feel lonely? He's an established poet/singer, enjoyed widely-spread fame, for a while at least. Compared with most poets and singers/song writers he had a glamorous life, so I wouldn't imagine getting laid being a problem for him. He even wrote in his song about how Janis Joplin gave him a head on the army bed for god's sake. So why is he still lonely. Cause I think he asked for it. Self-pitty is like a second nature for writers. The unsatiable loneliness feeds on his sexual frustration and he lives off it for inspiration. It's a very sickling relationship and it's even not clear who's the host and who's the parasite. I have to quote the great Lester Bangs, my favorite line of his in "Almost Famous": ("us" here refers to Rock journalist)They make you feel cool. And hey. I met you. You are not "cool." That's because we are uncool! And while women will always be a problem for guys like us, most of the great art in the world is about that very problem. Good-looking people have no spine! Their art never lasts! They get the girls, but we're smarter.--While the song "I'm your man" always gives me the image of an older man falling in love with a much younger woman. She's exuberant with life, elegant, maybe even beautiful, and with the nonchalance beautiful girls usually have. He can't really hope to get anything in return even in his wildest dreams, all he can do is offer himself, as a sacrifice, to perish for a cause. The very first stanza is a perfection demonstration of Cohenism: If you want a loverIll do anything you ask me toAnd if you want another kind of loveIll wear a mask for youIf you want a partnerTake my handleOr if you want to strike me down in angerHere I standIm your man One peculiarity that always strikes me is the sexual images littered thru his lyrics, some expressive, "giving me head on the arm bed", "see her undressing for me"; "But I lingered on her thighs a fatal moment; I kissed her lips as though I thirsted still"; some more implicit, "take my handle", "I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on", "I ache in the places I used to play". The implicit ones are always more startling, it's almost like a secret wink, but the reservation, the sinister suggestion nonetheless reflects his insatiable lust and sexual frustration. Leafing thru his songs, u see a vivid description of a man fighting a life-long battle for affection, caress, all the while holding on desperately to his sense of solitude. It's only fitting he chose to conclude the movie with these mark: "For many years, I was know as a monk. I shaved my head and wore robes, and I got up very early. I hated everyone but I acted generously. No one found me out. My reputation as a ladies' man was a joke, it causes me laugh bitterly, thru the ten thousand nights I spent alone."
