Everything Must Go

That is the name of a current movie - Everything Must Go.  I saw it last week; I think it is the first time I've intentionally seen a Will Ferrell movie.

This movie was good, in a grim, dark, slice of sad life kind of way.  I know it was good; I know it was well-done.  It was well-written, and the acting was strong, including Will Ferrell (surprisingly).   The premise of the movie:   he finds his alcoholic self job-less, house-less, wife-less - she has thrown all his stuff onto the front lawn, locked him out.  Re-keyed the house.  Everything, including him, must go.  We slowly come to understand the worst  -  he is accused of having done something horrible.  When confronted with the inevitable question : "Did you do this?", his face was nearly dead.  Astonishingly, bleakly nothing.  Ferrell managed to have utterly no facial expression.  Like a death mask.  His answer was impossibly sad - "I don't know;  I don't remember".  He is that ruined.  To be unable to defend himself against charges of rape - because his mind is so besotted that he cannot remember that night.  How is this possible - not to be able to remember if you raped?  But you look at the face, and you know it is true - he does not remember.

I know the movie was good, but I didn't want to admit how horrifically sad it made me.   The way he drank, how he was when sober, how he was when drunk; how he stood, how he smiled, how he talked, how witty he was, how smart.  How he drank - as the serious ones say - drinking with a purpose.  All of it.  All of it - reminded me of loss.  He was bright, insightful, honest, self-deprecating, charismatic, witty, delightful, kind to everyone but himself.  Ruined.  I adored him.  And he was lost.

Men become drunk in different ways, but each is astonishingly consistent: my dad was cheerful then maudlin,  one of my brothers is acerbic, another is stone quiet, my ex-husband was pugnacious and difficult, and then there was the one who was exactly like the character in this movie.  Exactly.  He was this character.

What saved me was Laura Dern's role.  She didn't pine for Will Ferrell when he turned up.  She gently remembered for him his long ago kindness that he had forgotten, before his life was this.  She likes him.  And she says - as she bids him farewell - when you get yourself together, please call me.

My hero.  My heart stopped and I didn't die.  Waste is hard to see.  We don't have to watch.  With one glance and a few words, Dern set a boundary that was gentle, optimistic, self-loving, kind, hopeful, intrigued and clear.  She got it right.