i watched the great gatsby the other night.
it’s the picking up of something i started last year.
i set out to watch a string of old films, and tragically started with “dr. zhivago”. my word, someone should warn you about something like 197 minutes in russia during the bolshevik revolution.
the boredom snapped me right out of my cinema craving.
then there was “gone with the wind” and “breakfast at tiffany’s”, and besides the latter, i’ve got to say, i’m not entirely impressed with old love stories.
they’re long and tragic and … i absolutely adore the costumes and the decades and the movie stars, but they end and i most often push my computer closed, pause for a second and wonder what just happened.
the saving grace of the great gatsby?