Saturday, January 31, 2009
We recently saw films about following one’s passion. One, Purple Violets, was about writing and going for your dreams and allowing love to blossom. The other, The Red Violin, was a literary film. The movie focused on the history of a violin, from its conception to its sale at an auction and the affect of the violin on its owners. The violin is the protagonist and its red because its grief-stricken master craftsman painted it with his dead wife’s blood. When these authentic non-commercial movies were over, we had something to talk about. I appreciated the film making because the movies felt like the work of an artist, not the work of a major film company’s hired guns.