Under the Tuscan Sun
Sep. 18th, 2018 01:46 pmWe watched Under the Tuscan Sun as a palate cleanser after The Miseducation of Cameron Post, a role for which it is completely perfect. What a joyful movie, so bright and colorful: lovely countryside, lovely food (I particularly loved the big festive meal scenes where Frances cooks lunch for the contractors working on her villa), and lovely, lovely hats.
Well, actually, there’s only one character who wears lovely hats: aging British actress Katherine, who dresses like a classic film star with her golden hair in blonde glamour girl curls. She is fabulous and I love her and her hats and her charming self-absorption: she’s like a brisk, no-nonsense butterfly who flits through everyone’s lives. Or perhaps a fairy godmother: Frances is following Katherine’s hat when she first sees the notices for the villa that she soon buys.
The fairy godmother is apt. Even though nothing strictly fantastic happens, in a sense the film is a fantasy: a fantasy of abundance, of having time and money enough to buy a romantically crumbling villa and make it into a home and fill it with family - of having enough love to turn everyone around you, the Polish contractors and the Italian neighbors and the aging British actress with the charming hats, into your family. Your very pregnant friend shows up and needs a place to stay, and you can say, “Sure!” There are more than enough rooms in the villa for her and the baby. They can stay as long as they like.
Well, actually, there’s only one character who wears lovely hats: aging British actress Katherine, who dresses like a classic film star with her golden hair in blonde glamour girl curls. She is fabulous and I love her and her hats and her charming self-absorption: she’s like a brisk, no-nonsense butterfly who flits through everyone’s lives. Or perhaps a fairy godmother: Frances is following Katherine’s hat when she first sees the notices for the villa that she soon buys.
The fairy godmother is apt. Even though nothing strictly fantastic happens, in a sense the film is a fantasy: a fantasy of abundance, of having time and money enough to buy a romantically crumbling villa and make it into a home and fill it with family - of having enough love to turn everyone around you, the Polish contractors and the Italian neighbors and the aging British actress with the charming hats, into your family. Your very pregnant friend shows up and needs a place to stay, and you can say, “Sure!” There are more than enough rooms in the villa for her and the baby. They can stay as long as they like.
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