Shameless talk in the kitchen...

Kitchen, no matter it is big or small, is the best place to talk about everything... On conditions that the person you're talking to loves you to this very last 'wooden lid in the end' and never asks questions that you might not like or on which ones you couldn't answer shamelessly and honestly... And that means that from this minute we will believe that we're very close people (it couldn't be closer) and, looking into each others' eyes, we can say everything at once for never lie later... otherwise what's the point...

Actually it all started with a script by Steve McQueen and Abi Morgan (in this exactly order they are written on the main page)... The scripts (as promised: if you're talking, then talking honestly) are not a favorite thing for reading... It needs or to have a habit, or stunning ability of the 'visualizer' to see everything from "enthusiastic despair to the desperate excitement and all the intermediate stops between" in the shorthand record "He came" "She said" "He passed"... and, after all, even this "shorthandness" can be different... And if the text is created by a playwright or someone who is "though life" wield a skilful pen, you will certainly hear the music behind the short slightly terse sentences… Even the short music pieces can be brilliant, no?.. You understand it as best as one can imagine… so let and the "dummy" do the same... Even if not as a member of the future "mystery play", but as neat viewer who is passionately in love with the subject... This text... this text's language itself is intentionally roughened... As if it swearing all the time with itself, moving "up-and-down" trying to reach the highest point in not usual way but warming itself with poorly motivated intentional ribaldry... any variant of sexual satisfaction cannot be dirty in itself... people are doing it such... here is floating around some sort of rapture of humiliating sensuality... It's underlined that this cannot be good ever, in any case, under any circumstances for anyone... poor lovely Brandon... He doesn't have a lot of his own mistakes, it seems that he’s intended to be responsible for someone else's sins, and for the solution of his real problems no one gave a minute nor of scenery, nor of future screen time... And it's so uncomfortable because of the fact that this strangeness of problem coverage can lead to misrepresentation of the very essence of widely announced obsession ascribed to him...

The demiurge who's creating his/her own world for a short on-screen (or in-book) time always has a choice... Here, for example, two quotes "how can one say about the same risky part of the body" (it's still unclear why this part (more exact – "he") is doomed forever to be so risky, because this is almost a hand, a leg or any other part of the body, but fact remains, and the "tragic fly that appeared in the salad" after the first closed screenings was a vivid example of this)...

The first quote belongs to Abi Morgan and Steve McQueen:

"BRANDON looks beyond-
A THIN BOY down on his knees sucking a cock through a hole between walls.

<...>

He stands, fucking the THICK SET GUY in the mouth -" (c.)

What a strange aftertaste... As if someone insists that this should be unpleasant to watch... Without variants or comments... And if you'll try it, then you'll be ranked to just the same ones - dirty and mired in a long-standing sodomy... "Phew... What a disgusting thing..." But excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, of what, actually, falling into the loo of sexual excesses are we talking about?.. The temporary need of additional way of satisfaction doesn't mean the original intention to condemn anyone to initially hard oral sex... It's just how it goes... But the words are important... They are of PARTICULAR importance... PARTICULARLY in the script... This is exactly of this pastry will be baked the future little pie... And how fragrant or burnt it will be depends on how good were the yeast and the baker who kept in subconscious filling known-only-to-him...

Second quote is from Henry Miller's "Sexus":

"I stood up and unbuttoned my fly. In a jiffy she had it out and in her mouth. Gobble, gobble, like a hungry buzzard. I came in her mouth.

<...>
I had a strange taste in my mouth, of fish glue and Chanel 976?.. My cock looked like a bruiser rubber hose: it hung between my legs, extended an inch or two beyond its normal length and swollen beyond recognition. When I got to the street I felt weak in the knees. I went to the drug store and swallowed a couple of malted milks. A royal bit of fucking, thought I to myself."

You're smiling... I hear... Because it's been said very kindly, sweet and simple... It's almost like as how to breathe... And there's no problem in one of the words that followed the action... Even in the bruises of cock tortured with love... This is a mere sexual being... It may be intense right now, and can be hidden for a time in the tender box of dream, but it's impossible to imagine that someone WANTS to live without these earthly pleasures... How many people during the screening and after that were afraid to watch into each other's eyes?.. This is so strange, as if we never heard of something like that and came into being as a result of the buying of a new property and eating warm food three times a day... It seems it's time to replace all of us with the locust because we all are hopelessly flawed...

And how do you think, the problem of sexual addiction really exists?.. Something that has been faced during the little research of our own (we're no worse than Agatha Christie and Colombo) demonstrates that our world is becoming more and more asexual... There are huge communities uniting people who denying sex as a normal part of life... And what they're saying and writing about intimacy reminds petty filthy ravings spraying a loathing to those who are still not rejecting and not stigmatizing... Men are noticing the unpleasantly open women'’s mouths during an orgasm and special vagina smell that haunts them... Women are shuddering telling to each other how it's awful when a barbarian-man "affects the integrity of her body," breaks in - a villain - with his rough tool into her Holy of Holies while reveling her humiliation... Believe, this is much sadder and scary than script's excesses of poor Brandon...

Love and pleasure are leaving the deserted house... On the dusty floor – fragile dried condom like a symbol of something into what we turned our sweetest feelings being drunk enough, filled up, having enough time to buy everything one need to feel "like everybody else..." "no worse than everyone else..." "almost like celebrity..." all these very things that were recommended to us by pink-vanilla advertising NPCs from the screens of lit-for-every-24-hours TVs...

The problem is not in the fact that man is masturbating too much… The thing that scares: most often, drooling apathetically to the genitals of his own, he's able for hours and hours staring at the screen on the "individuals" who are technically portraying what, how and where one can put into with the greatest ingenuity... Undead rubber objects and the viewer himself who's just like naked-doll with clean bottom part, for whom it's or "too early", or "too late"...

There's always a hope... There's always a catch...

Perhaps it will be a film about a man who didn't give a chance to establish himself?.. Perhaps, we'll still see "the sky with diamonds" and crumb of a "chronic" feeling that he killed in himself because "it's not appropriate", but it's still all he ever wanted?..

"I was in love once. My first cousin. She was... We were both so... She joined a convent over the affair. She was all I ever wanted...
There's no normal life, Wyatt. There's just life."

"Tombstone", Screenplay by Kevin Jarre

Who knows... It's not yet a talk about what film is turned out to be, just the sheets of script that remind of cards doomed to lose... and you... What can be better?..

And on the screen, as always, are you...
Instead of a deaf false emptiness...
Of someone's failed-to-think-out-well words
Of someone's withheld phrases...
Time to leave... the light in the hotel went out...
This is their joke... This is just a game...
And not soiled sinful hole...
Bold and funny... Close and warm...
It seems I would stand by myself in the same window...

to be continued...