I remember one of the first screenings of this incredible film experience back in the old NYC on a windy October night in 2016.
Me and a bunch of people, together in a packed cinema uptown, will soon not be strangers anymore. This happened back in the day when we could fearlessly sit together in a dark room and go on a journey without the anxiety of becoming sick or infecting anyone with anything but laughter.
I also remember that I wandered 13 blocks after the screening just thinking about what I've experienced. The film opened up so many sensitive questions, touched on so many carefully hidden wounds, resurrected so many purposefully buried thoughts.
When the lights went on and everybody was on their way out, somehow, I thought we won't be alone during our journey home.
I am often reminded of this feeling during the current crisis, and how much we took for granted. Especially with regard to shared experiences of seeing the incredible films like "42 Seconds of Happiness", which made us part of the same family, if only for a night.
It's a masterful film - Kallas' direction and her actors are out of this world, while one could sense the freedom Kallas gave the actors to spread their wings, fly and fall, pick themselves up again, fly higher, descend faster, just barely missing the hard, cold ground. They all played their hearts out, and to achieve that kind of performance, they needed to have just as fierce director.
The song at the end is where it all came together for me in such a subtle, effortless way, that after it all ended, I felt the urge to give everyone in the room a hug.
Today I'm sorry I haven't done that (weirder things happened in NYC) especially since we're today advised not to hug each other anymore. But the film itself is such a warm and gentle hug, maybe just that little something everybody needs right now.
On the other hand, "42 seconds of Happiness" is a loud, messy, complicated - but above all - human, beautiful and heartfelt film.
Forgive the cryptic message (if you see the film, you'll understand): After seeing "42 Seconds of Happiness" I'm sure you wouldn't have to wish - you would actually feel like you knew writer-director Christina Kallas when you were a kid.
Me and a bunch of people, together in a packed cinema uptown, will soon not be strangers anymore. This happened back in the day when we could fearlessly sit together in a dark room and go on a journey without the anxiety of becoming sick or infecting anyone with anything but laughter.
I also remember that I wandered 13 blocks after the screening just thinking about what I've experienced. The film opened up so many sensitive questions, touched on so many carefully hidden wounds, resurrected so many purposefully buried thoughts.
When the lights went on and everybody was on their way out, somehow, I thought we won't be alone during our journey home.
I am often reminded of this feeling during the current crisis, and how much we took for granted. Especially with regard to shared experiences of seeing the incredible films like "42 Seconds of Happiness", which made us part of the same family, if only for a night.
It's a masterful film - Kallas' direction and her actors are out of this world, while one could sense the freedom Kallas gave the actors to spread their wings, fly and fall, pick themselves up again, fly higher, descend faster, just barely missing the hard, cold ground. They all played their hearts out, and to achieve that kind of performance, they needed to have just as fierce director.
The song at the end is where it all came together for me in such a subtle, effortless way, that after it all ended, I felt the urge to give everyone in the room a hug.
Today I'm sorry I haven't done that (weirder things happened in NYC) especially since we're today advised not to hug each other anymore. But the film itself is such a warm and gentle hug, maybe just that little something everybody needs right now.
On the other hand, "42 seconds of Happiness" is a loud, messy, complicated - but above all - human, beautiful and heartfelt film.
Forgive the cryptic message (if you see the film, you'll understand): After seeing "42 Seconds of Happiness" I'm sure you wouldn't have to wish - you would actually feel like you knew writer-director Christina Kallas when you were a kid.