Hold On, A Little Longer
Hurtling through year two of this endless pandemic, it’s beyond rote to talk about “unprecedented times” and relating every film you see to what’s “going on.” Human nature can’t help but find connections, though, especially in periods of trauma that we haven't even begun to reconcile. Over the past year, while not because of the virus, I’ve lost family and friends in numbers that seem almost impossible. You grieve but in isolation or working alone, late at night as I do, thoughts give way to their absences. People you assumed would always occupy some space in your life are just gone. Normal life doesn’t really allow one to take in just how profoundly sad that is. Our ~ new normal ~ has and within the deep thoughts that come at night, two films continuously swirl through my head: M. Night Shyamalan’s Old and Sophy Romvari’s Still Processing. On their surface, neither film should have much in common. One is an existential and bodily nightmare set on a beach that rapidly ages anyone
