-That’s why these things are important.
-What, to make our husbands cry?
-Not just husbands, all men. It’s always then that break first. Shally’s wedding, Charley’s christening. We hold it together cos we already know how important these things are.
-Geoff is not much of a crier.
-I bet he cried at your wedding.
-I don’t remember.
-I think they just see the world different from us. If it’s some twist of evolution that needs men to be obsessed by their obituaries, their legacies. Then maybe it’s ours to nudge them into realizing what’s really important, before they kill themselves, you know, with the disappointment.
- We were being heedless. I think that’s the word I’m looking for. Back in her Berlin, the Wall was going up and in America, we’d just had the Bay of Pigs. But up there, we weren’t thinking about all that. Weren’t thinking about our future. But, at the same time , we weren’t heedless at all. How can you be when, when you know what your purpose is? When everyday seems to have some point to it. Finding somewhere to stay, finding food. And the days we didn’t go anywhere, they seemed just as purposeful as when we set out in complete seriousness at four in the fucking morning. I think, um... I think that’s the worst part of getting decrepit, losing that...purposefulness. I was remembering today how we used to see these flowers. Some sort of violet, I think they were. They’d find a patch of grass where the snow had melted and they’d just spring up. I know they were only flowers, but they seemed so determined. Brave, even. And that’s how I see Katya and we. Wandering around, turning our back on civilization.
-Brave?
-In a way. Don’t you think?
-Not really.
-Why not?
-I mean, what were you actually doing? You’re just climbing up some bloody mountain.
-Well, I’m not saying what we did was out of bravery.
-I think you were just chasing a girl who wanted to be chased.
-You didn’t know her.
-No, I didn’t.
-I’m tired.
-I want to ask you something before we go to sleep.
-What’s that.
-If she hadn’t died, if you had got to Italy, would you have married her for real?
-But we didn’t get to Italy, did we? And she did die.
-Yeah, but if you had.
-I thought you didn’t like theoretical questions.
-Just answer me.
-Yes.
-Have you taken your pills today?
-No.
-Then I’m going to get them. And then we’re going to have dinner, and then we’re going to go to bed. And then we’re going to get up. And we’ll try and start again.
-Ok, Kate, I can do that. We can do that . I promise.
我喜欢用对话铺满的电影。不停剖白，抽丝剥茧，露出真相。人类那么擅长自欺，但是有时候欺不了人。他说我们重新开始，他早起做早餐，陪她遛狗，在结婚45周年的聚会上落泪，跳舞。他表现得越好，就越讽刺，就越无法证明在一起的45年，哪一刻是真的有爱情。“如果她没有死，你真的会娶她吗？”一个假想就可以推翻一切。她的生活像是从那个死去的女人手上偷来的，她似乎拥有了关于爱情的一切，但是在45年后却发现，没有一样是真的。跟一个故人争，永远也不可能公平。她好，她死了，连同那些与她一起的可能性都埋葬在了冰川下面。她永远是那个黄昏湖畔逆光里的少女，小腹微微隆起，眼睛低垂，对，是他心目中永恒的少女。没有发生的故事有100种结尾，而已经发生过的生活只有一种，简陋，乏味，将就。而到底什么才是重要的，那些未发生的时光里延绵不绝的爱情，还是漫漫人生长路里时时刻刻的陪伴，没人有答案。拉上回忆的幕帘，入一入真实生活的戏，也就过一辈子了。可女人总是太聪明，轻易看穿拙劣的演技。在落幕的前一秒，她甩开了手。
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