I am finding it impossible to watch The Hand That Rocks the Cradle. I start the DVD, stop it, bail out, for the Nth time. Dig it, Rebecca De Mornay is one of the supremely beautiful actresses.
I first encountered that face, that jaw line, that cheek profile upon first walking into my son’s college dorm room: a roomie had tacked a clip from a magazine on the room’s bulletin board. Later I saw Risky Business: Cheeez! I saw Trip to Bountiful. (What actress (since Lillian Gish) has so succeeded in looking virginal? Look at those white gloves! the white hat! the 1940’s virgin dress! you want to destroy the whole world to protect her!)
(Contrast that with her exquisite whore visiting Tom Cruise on Chicago’s lakeshore: that teen too much of an unfledged idiot to leap on her the first two seconds she came into his house!) (so funny, considering the transvestite who’d sent her!)
Risky Business pic has evaporated
So you might think I’d have watched The Hand when if first came out, and not needed a DVD twenty years later. Furthermore, she’s not the only beauty in the film: Annabella Sciorra looks plenty good: and we get to see her boobs, and a doctor standing between her knees, spreading her, probing her female insides …
Maybe that’s it, that’s what’s wrong. We get to see Rebecca De Mornay with doctors standing between her legs too, we see her screaming in a blocked labor … Am I chicken shit? or is it something else? I just watched The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo for a fourth of fifth film visit, after reading the novel twice (last night I saw the American version for the first time). Thomas Harris with his serial murderers of women may just be my favorite living novelist: and great film source. If I’m a sadist, a misogynist, you’d think I’d love it. As Illich’s fan, friend, disciple, you’d think I’d drool at the portrait of hospital staffs as covert pervert rapists.
(Check images online of John de Lancie “examining” Annabella Sciorra.)
Well, I have a lot I want to say on these and related subjects, and this is a start. Who knows where it will go?
First feel: it feels dishonest! It feels Hollywood, in the worst sense.
Here’s something worse: it feels female! There’s a slime on it like a “woman” wrote it: not the good familiar male universal destructiveness we’re all so familiar with. She’s oozing an agenda over on us!
(I fear my sarcasms, ironies are wasted, as usual; I don’t mean a real woman, I don’t mean Jane Austen, I don’t mean Isak Dinesen: what do I mean? Emily Post? Dear Abby? Jacqueline Susan?) (That’s not fair either: I’ve never read Jacqueline Susan!)
Or is it that movie censorship has lulled us into a pallid cowardice? We can see plenty of blood and guts, plenty of boob, plenty of tush … some of our voyeurism is encouraged, almost enforced; but no crotch shot? no fundaments? no ass hairs? no ripped-open birth channel? like a Jew being force-fed a clam.
Check back, and back again: I may actually say something comprehensible.
By the way, I’ve added lots of K. Personal / Chat / Arts / Movies posts while resurrecting only 1/4 to day of what the fed destroyed of my K.: K.’s metadata, the interaction of its four frames, being beyond recovery, I can’t imagine how God will show it at Judgment, is destroyed, evaporated, like the Atlantic boiling off in two seconds once the earth falls into the sun. Anyway, most of my current / Movies / section is enthusiastic recommendation. But K. had a / Movies / Pans / section: movies I made fun of, hated, exposed. This post is both.