"Yes". Last night F & I went out to a movie, the first such entertainment excursion since his back difficulties started. We saw Sally Potter’s latest opus, Yes. I love it. (F, interestingly, found it „self-absorbed“ and tedious.) For me, it was a delightful trip in a world of fascinating questioning, a world of sensuality. „She“ was played wonderfully, I thought, by Joan Allen. Sam Neill was her husband. A fellow with and Armenian name was „He“, her lover.
“She” is a scientist, a cell researcher, being asked to define when exactly it is that life starts. She works with facts and quantifiable data. But her married life is cold and empty. She’s an American living in Britain, an outsider. “He” was a doctor in Lebanon, but quit when a faction killed a patient of his, “for being on the wrong side. I cannot practice medicine where I am forced to discriminate on the basis of politics that some lives aren’t to be saved.” In Britain, he works as a chef.
The movie is an excellent study in how darned difficult it is for any two humans to have relationship. The couple is so sensually open with each other initially, but soon enough, the difference that initially were attractive become obstacles. He feels unseen and exploited: “Do you know ANYTHING about my language and culture?!?”