Thoughts on Portrait of a Lady on Fire
July 18, 2020•240 words
Some movies, as do some books, leave us with a high, ensuing numbness from the incumbent reality. Transport us into their world and then end, selfishly, leaving us behind. Some of these linger in our sub-conscience for days, and one story that has stayed with me is ‘Portrait of a lady on fire’. This passage is not a movie review, not an analysis of the characters, but a note of what the movie left me with!
It would be ironic, if the movie were to be written about volubly as, fundamentally the movie entrusts us to understand what lies beyond words, to perceive what the characters perceive, without the expression of its lurid details. Much is written about the tantalizing ‘female gaze’ that the movie builds itself around. While that is of essence to the expression in the movie, what also deserves cognizance is the brevity in the dialogues exchanged. The dialogues are few and precious, and once drawn into the movie, you would collect them greedily and selectively recollect them from memory, to assimilate their brilliance.
The movie explores freedom in debilitating circumstances. Freedom, albeit, in the solace of the bondage. The movie wrapped itself around me and uncovered the timelessness of the ephemeral story, subtly and yet poignantly. I felt lucky to be alive in a day and age where this gem stands made, for us to be able to savor it, slowly, like fine wine!