One of the items in my eclectic mix of visual media from last night included the 1996 romance Bed of Roses. I am not so big on "chick flicks" for the most part. However, I actually saw this in the theater way back when. So when I DVR'd it a few days back, just for the heck of it.
Truthfully, it is horribly contrived, jerky, with sudden and jarring expositions shoved amongst the romantic fluff. I kept thinking, "This is not a good movie. Why did it stick in my mind enough to make me want to watch it again?" The answer is not in the movie itself, but in the undercurrents of message hidden in the sappy dialogue and fairy-tale premise. Which, quite simply, is "Stop."
Just Stop.
Stop and enjoy the little things.
Stop nitpicking, stop examining every word and motion and facial expression.
Stop trying to be perfect.
Stop hiding.
Stop pretending.
Stop thinking you aren't worthy of being loved.
One of the scenes in the movie involves a scene between the two main characters, wherein Lisa is trying to find out from Lewis who sent her this beautiful floral arrangement. She goes into this tirade about how if someone really wanted her to enjoy the flowers, they would have signed the card instead of leaving her to go half crazy wondering who it was, and being so obsessed about it that she can't even enjoy them. Doesn't that defeat the purpose?
Later, Lisa is having the requisite best friend talk with her friend Kim, about her on again/off again boyfriend, Danny.
Kim: He's the romantic equivalent of a night-light.
Lisa: You say that as if that's a bad thing. I don't have time in my life for anything more.
Such a reflection of our world, there. We don't have time. We are too busy working, playing, living, struggling, existing. We can't just enjoy.
Meh. I'm waxing introspective about a romance flick. Should shush now
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