Just wanted to let you know that I am in the middle of the best film on Netflix that I have seen in many a long year.
Basics are, a middle aged Italian American bachelor in New York who as lost both his Mother and Grandmother and decides to start his own restaurant using local Italian American grandmothers as chefs. Hilarous and at the same time touching.
No spoiler available because I haven’t finished it yet.
I think my next foreign trip will be over the border to a little Italian restaurant I know where, injured as I was, I was treated, and fed, so well.
I’m grateful for gentle fun movies these days. There’s so much anger/ depression/ frustration in the world at the moment that escapism has a lot to offer. And I don’t like all the Marvel escapism, so that’s a whole chunk of the film industry these days that has no appeal for me whatsoever.
Me too, despite my awful language in cursing the world all alone in this house (Jules is so forgiving and I so admire the way he ignores my outbursts), I do hate the prevalance of effing and blinding in modern films. The whole point of swearing is to be a safety valve, held in reserve for life’s real travails, not as an everyday adjective. Otherwise, what’s the point?
I recall the original meanings of bloody, crikey and blimey etc., so strong in their day and now part of everyday language. The Fs etc are going the same way but that doesn’t mean they are fun in transition.
One reason I love my neighbour, Marie-Paule, in the general rather than intimate sense, is because she still allows her frustrations no further than ‘mercredi’ and ‘punaise’, a classic rearguard action. I hate it when I swear in French because I realise I may be offending someone.
