"Yes" vs. No !, Film Comments

AM's Writing > Yes vs. No ! Yes, written and directed by Sally Potter verses by A. Mead, © 2005
	To opine upon the movie, YES, In couplets and quatrains, You must be blessed, With some warpage of brain, Whose spillage cast in rhyme Then becomes most sublime. For once your mind's become entrained, Versification comes without strain. I'd not have viewed this film by Potter, Having seen her tedious TANGO LESSON. Except that our movie 'picker' said I 'otter. YES was her choice for this month's session. I expected all boring conversation, But NO; for amidst the tiresome fluff Come cleaners bearing broom, mop, and brush, Reciting to us viewers (not fellow actors Playing cardboard roles as if on skewers), The inner life of dirt and all such rot Which figure in what's clean, what's snot. The swarms of bacteria, bugs' fornication, Seen at various magnification -- keen! Bored and neglected, smart wife meets a Lover; A debonair Arab, he can't wait to have her. But characters' chemistry, passion's so pallid, Was adulterous "Romance" ever so insipid? It's just unconvincing between this pair. More anxious distraction, desperation, despair. [regarding the Lover ...] A Lebanese immigrant in England now. All his old resentments grow; we know His land was ruled by Britain not so long ago. You fancy they've forgotten? No. Tho now the Yanks rule the skies, Not Brits; but more of the same in Arab eyes; Same looks, same language, same imperious ways -- Same guys -- (all shits). He says "You're my Queen, you've captured my heart, But there's another part of me that needs its freedom." And here He speaks for male-dom, more than Islam; A yearning women can't abide, which undermines their trust. [regarding aged auntie ...] Amongst this dreary simulated passion, Some touching moments, heartfelt, human. Her auntie's last deathbed musings, That she's too weak to speak in dying. Abruptly our lady, unsettled, in heat, Proposes a trip to warm island retreat. Let's go on a junket, she begs her suitor, I'll send you a ticket, we'll meet down in Cub'er. Yes, we'll act like we care, Get all sweaty and fuck there. (Forget the old husband, the dead aunt in Ireland), You'll be my man in Havan'er. ---------------------- At last: some clever moments, YES. But otherwise, an awkward mess, Reflecting, in verse, its authoress? Poor Potter aspires to qualities Latin Bright colors, the warmth, the lively tunes, In English manners so badly lackin'. To wit: pathetic husband, alone in cold room, Spastically dancing his crippled emotion ... Alas, this is Sally herself, in male projection; To sad limitation, her own confession. A.M., Aug. 2005 Another spot-on review in rhyme: from New Yorker, 6/27/05, Anthony Lane in his prime. Email comments to vamead@well.com AM's Writing > Yes vs. No !

Yes, written and directed by Sally Potter

To opine upon the movie, YES,
In couplets and quatrains,
You must be blessed,
With some warpage of brain,
Whose spillage cast in rhyme
Then becomes most sublime.
For once your mind's become entrained,
Versification comes without strain.

I'd not have viewed this film by Potter,
Having seen her tedious TANGO LESSON.
Except that our movie 'picker' said I 'otter.
YES was her choice for this month's session.

I expected all boring conversation,
But NO; for amidst the tiresome fluff
Come cleaners bearing broom, mop, and brush,
Reciting to us viewers (not fellow actors
Playing cardboard roles as if on skewers),
The inner life of dirt and all such rot
Which figure in what's clean, what's snot.
The swarms of bacteria, bugs' fornication,
Seen at various magnification -- keen!

Bored and neglected, smart wife meets a Lover;
A debonair Arab, he can't wait to have her.
But characters' chemistry, passion's so pallid,
Was adulterous "Romance" ever so insipid?
It's just unconvincing between this pair.
More anxious distraction, desperation, despair.

[regarding the Lover ...]
A Lebanese immigrant in England now.
All his old resentments grow; we know
His land was ruled by Britain not so long ago.
You fancy they've forgotten? No.
Tho now the Yanks rule the skies,
Not Brits; but more of the same in Arab eyes;
Same looks, same language, same imperious ways --
Same guys -- (all shits).

He says "You're my Queen, you've captured my heart,
But there's another part of me that needs its freedom."
And here He speaks for male-dom, more than Islam;
A yearning women can't abide, which undermines their trust.

[regarding aged auntie ...]
Amongst this dreary simulated passion,
Some touching moments, heartfelt, human.
Her auntie's last deathbed musings,
That she's too weak to speak in dying.

Abruptly our lady, unsettled, in heat,
Proposes a trip to warm island retreat.
Let's go on a junket, she begs her suitor,
I'll send you a ticket, we'll meet down in Cub'er.
Yes, we'll act like we care,
Get all sweaty and fuck there.
(Forget the old husband,
the dead aunt in Ireland),
You'll be my man in Havan'er.

----------------------

At last: some clever moments, YES.
But otherwise, an awkward mess,
Reflecting, in verse, its authoress?
Poor Potter aspires to qualities Latin
Bright colors, the warmth, the lively tunes,
In English manners so badly lackin'.
To wit: pathetic husband, alone in cold room,
Spastically dancing his crippled emotion ...
Alas, this is Sally herself, in male projection;
To sad limitation, her own confession.

A.M., Aug. 2005

Another spot-on review in rhyme:
from New Yorker, 6/27/05,
Anthony Lane in his prime.

Email comments to vamead@well.com

AM's Writing > Yes vs. No !