My shove towards culture this week was a trip to the Rio Cinema. ‘Unloved’ on Sunday night, directed by Samantha Morton, a television film based on her own childhood, made me feel so guilty and depressed by the time I went to bed, I was considering becoming a foster parent myself. So how was I going to feel climbing into bed after Synecdoche, New York? That is if I could find my real bed and not the play bed with my real partner not my actor partner. And was it me or the person playing the person playing me? Next morning I was still confused about which actor was playing who. I still had Samantha Morton and Emily Watson muddled up during breakfast and lost fifty quid over it. Worst of all I missed recognising Jennifer Jason Leigh who has always been one of my favourite actresses. Luckily I had no problem recognising Philip Seymour Hoffman who aged and suffered and balded very well.
A theatre director, Caden Cotard, wins the genius prize (my partner says he’s always dreamed of getting one of those) and embarks on directing a huge production inside a massive industrial building. The play takes seventeen years to create, involves more and more characters who exchange places move on and off ‘stage’.
Unusually I enjoyed the scenes near the end of the film most, where Caden pretends to be a cleaning lady to get into his ex-wife’s flat. Then in the stage version he plays the part of the cleaning lady while the actress who was playing the cleaning lady directs. Several friends I know are in a race to finish the great work before dying gets the better of them. I went to bed feeling I had massively disappointed myself already. I think this was mainly down to the fact that we, the audience, never see Caden’s play and can’t imagine how it would ever be performed.