A film for my birthday.

7°C, sun became rain later. Heavy.
From now, get used to the idea that I’m forty-eight years old.

Staunton Harold, Leics

I’m 48 too.

Film: Amour. Not everybody’s choice of film on a thoroughly middle-aged birthday, a film about old age and death. It is rightly much written about in the press, since it won big prizes at Cannes. Ties are plenty of links to read up on so I won’t add much here.
I found myself thinking while the film was on, an easy thing to do in such a measured film were a major theme was time. I thought about the rather slow section mid-film and whether it was deliberately slow because the character’s lives were slow while trapped in their situation.
Spoiler alert:

I also thought- how often do doctors know that a domestic euthanasia was carried out and then keep quiet about it? It bet it’s frequent. Maybe like me, they think it’s the only humane option for some people.

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