Just got back from my neighbor's house where we watched "Into the Wild", Sean Penn's wonderful new film. The sidewalk was damp and the air had the musty smell that accompanies a late night drizzle. The movie was thought provoking and sad. Emile Hirsch gives a breakthrough performance as Christopher McCandless, a young man who set off into the Alaskan wild to fend for himself. McCandless died up there, seeking some sort of truth. The film is based on Jon Krakauer's book with the same title. Penn has crafted what I believe is his most accessible film, and his most moving one, as well.
The moment Hirsch appeared on screen, with wild eyes, a scraggy beard and disheveled hair, my heart began to hurt. How is it possible that I sit down to watch something three years to the date that Matt died and the main character of siad film is just like him. It just made m thoughts deepen and my attention to the film grow more intense. I found no flaws in this movie. Nothing. Eddie Vedder wrote some exquisite songs that make me want to buy the soundtrack.
I could ramble on for a while about the movie but it all feels pointless. My I put up here may never be read by anyone. Plus, it's nearly 1:00 and I don't want to veer back into dwelling on the death of my friend. I did that this morning when I wrote this week's Basement Song entry. No need to continue picking the scabs.