June 25, 2001

Electricity

I have strange but pleasing obsessions with Moulin Rouge and now Billy Elliot, which I watched last night over beer and sushi take-out and which made me burst into tears and laughter throughout.

And I think part of what draws me to these films, specifically to Christian and to Billy himself, is that part of their characters that simply does not permit them to hold in their feelings. With Christian, he fills up with poetry and song and lights up the sky with his voice and his love. You see it all over his face, in his wide smile and in his eyes. And Billy -- he throws his entire body into the statement of what he cannot express in words -- be it in rage and defiance at his father's disapproval or in sheer joy as he kicks and twirls and stomps up the street or in the quiet, gentle treatment of his friend as he hands him a tutu and teaches him basic dance positions with all of the sweetness and patience and silliness that's reflected in the way he glances out the corner of his eye and flashes a slow, sudden smile.

I noticed that Children of the Revolution is featured in both films -- in Moulin Rouge as the bohemians celebrate the investment in the show and again during the finale and in Billy Elliot as Billy runs in frustration from his father. I guess Christian and Billy are both the children of their own revolutions, in their own ways.

Jamie Bell gave a magnificent performance and I'm so glad I pulled this movie off of the shelf last night. I watched that little boy jump and spin and fall down and stand up again and stare his father and his teacher right in the eyes and I just laughed and laughed and cried and cried for him, wondering what might be my revolution, wishing to feel like electricity, and wondering how.


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