Sunday, November 1, 2009

I watched the movie Perfume.

I guess one can call it well made, brilliantly crafted, edited in the slickest way possible; but cut all that crap out, there is but one word for it. Disturbing.
A true story of a murderer. The tag line said as much. But what puzzled me was two things.
One, the dispassionate narrative. The voice was disembodied, faceless, as narratives usually are (!) but why I am emphasizing this point, is because this voice was also devoid of all emotion. Almost robotic, with a hypnotic effect on the mind. Narrating ghastly events in grizzly detail – without emotion. Like the voices in train platforms and airports.
Second… The more disturbing fact - was my own absorption with the details. I always appreciate detail, but I never thought I would find such detail interesting. All the animal wax and the distilling was chilling, but it held me stuck to the screen in a kind of horrid fascination about what was going to happen.

1 comment:

altered egos said...

couldn't agree more.. imagine what happens to those who read the book.. we both know one such being :-/

AE