Immensita

I enjoyed Immensita, I just watched it because there’s a strong female lead and a child who also feels like a lead though he identifies as a boy. And it’s always a pleasure to see Penelope Cruz. Who doesn’t want to see her? And ain’t it the truth, sometimes I am more worried about the fantasies of adults. This is me in Miracle Mile.

I liked the color palette as well, but it’s Rome, and it’s the 70s. There was a theatricality I suppose to some of these shots, they have singing sections…I love them dancing and singing in the beginning. This Brazilian mother was always dancing. I liked the church that turned into a dance party…thinking about these family dance parties…coming out of Shabbat.

There isn’t an inciting incident. There are problems at home that build…she burns half the house down…and they go pick her up. The gypsies have been cleared out…so the boy goes running to find her…gone. It’s a slice of a moment. It opens with the child who identifies as a boy, he sits with the other kids, and then, there she is— Cruz. And they’re dancing, setting up for dinner. So I go, there’s a family that does that.

Right now, it’s like I’m smashing barbie heads together, and she’s already in this world, and she’s coming to get me. But the musical number continues…this is a way of life for her. And it just so happens…I bust into her house. Before she can even stop the car. There’s a dramatic scene. A four year old “getaway.” I end up under a plum tree staking my ground. And from there, I think I go straight to ding dong. Dr. J. Only because she can operate like that. She might have called.

Angelita, the Brazilian mother, snapped in my face —I started living with her like that. In a snap. Meaning, I slept there that night. Dr. J didn’t even ask for this woman’s number, address…she had to suggest it. “Don’t you want my number?” “OKAY.” Instead of calling, in this case, I thought, bring Dr. J up, something other, sudden. These are all her character traits. She has this scene. Sure, she can stay the night…for that money…sure. I mean…okay. Louise is there, so she hilariously tells this to Louise — for whatever reason. So many kids around. I’m misbehaving, so this problem is kicking off. That night, bath time.

Maria is in the dark about this strange bathtime activity except most might go — she might be uncomfortable because she’s not home, but you might be, as an audience, unclear as to what is going on…Nicole and Maria have a discussion about astrology, look, Nicole understands Maria as a Sagittarius. She was really like this. Or, we’re talking about Oz. I don’t know exactly yet. Normal, this mother dresses….them…? For bed? Did this…happen? For Maria? My real life really confuses me. Nothing but questions there. I remember I started having sitters. She got sitters. At night. She liked to go out. Anyway, for the purposes of this, that’s the next step. And Nicole takes Maria in, you can see the bond that way. Then, her husband comes home since their love affair has to be even inspiring. The house is asleep.

I found her to be so refreshing. Just her sexual freedom. It made me laugh, it really did, just how much she loved LOVE. It was LOVE 24/7. Very fun, very sexy, a sensual woman. Always dancing in her room. So, I appreciated this movie, because of the dance sequences…some of these shots.

It’s not the right period, but who cares?

This is a drama.

A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints is a drama. It’s not that. It’s that remembering these four years…where do I go? Dr. J being sick is probably a lie. I can invent some normal version of her…our conversations, I’m telling you, were about how she’s a genius, what parts of me are like her, and how I was “Mama’s star,” you see? She never asked me a question. Not once. Not in my entire life. “How arereeeeeee you? AH!” If I said, sort of, um, on the phone, I’m good. AHHHHH. Mama’s star. It doesn’t matter what I said. This was a person so far from normal. “Far from Normal.” So sure, I could write anything. You see, I could say, “bitch I don’t know you,” and she’s going to say something “for MAMA, you’re everything…” the last time I saw her…she didn’t really say anything. Except when I asked her about “the working for the government” comment? That her escort made. Why are you even here? Do I know you? That’s my attitude now. About this escort. Like I give a shit about his agenda. Like I give a shit about making a scene, you understand. Get away from my mother. Where did you come from? How do you even know each other? I’m a different person. But that’s in the real. She said he’s living a double life blah blah blah. I don’t even have the time. A secret spy. Looking for Osama Bin Laden “in the mountains.” So, going home to confront Dr. J is practically a comedy. She’s saying anything. Again, I don’t really care, in the sense that, if someone has an idea like — I think this might be a strong place to start for you. But he didn’t say that. He just offered that as a structure. You could go home. She’s sick. Calling for me. Since that’s relatable. That was already a stretch. Well, if I go home, I’m in a different family now. Not that I have to go there. That’s the degree to which I do not know this person. I have to stay with my mom now. Or, get a hotel. I ain’t staying with Dr. J, I’ve never been invited. I slept over there once in my whole life. Her place. I was there a few times. Maybe four. Maybe that’s pushing it. Why would I go — because she’s on her deathbed? And? Is this supposed to AFFECT me? I told her I was in the hospital. I didn’t even get a goddamn phone call. So? This woman doesn’t care if I’m alive or dead.

I can go there, as I said, invent a completely fictional existence. I’m open, in love with this exercise. So, okay, “you can stay with us,” it’s not happening. I would never stay with them. Ever. Ain’t staying with “people” who think they are spies. Then, I’m walking into…some environment…and? So going home…the thing is, if I had someone to talk to, I would be open to doing almost anything. It’s not to shut down any idea. Right? You end staring into the waves…you have some scene…but this woman, this person, treated me as if — in the words of my cousins — I was basically less than ZERO. So again, I get a phone call? I’m not sure if I’m going. Maybe… this is a karmic decision. Sure, Dr. J, what would you like to say…probably I would take the spiritual route. She’s a soul. Not my mother. Though she is. I would say prayers. I would probably handle that in a particular way. If she were really on her deathbed. If she was sick…her wanting to see me is…utterly strange. “So you want…” regardless “through the field of ‘surrealism’ because that’s what she is…”through the incomprehensible…you feel guilty. You want to make amends somehow. There’s nothing to amend. You want to get to know me now?” She never did. "So sure, I can go there. I suppose I could do some version of that…a Forrest Gump, again, I’m so so open, or that. I can problem solve.

Okay, so I’m going home. Here I am. No, I would never accept a ride from her escort. These lines would be so strict, it’s stupid. Just give me the address. I will be coming with someone. You see. I ain’t going alone. My rules. So, then, I have a supporting role. Who would I call? Probably Nicole. These are weird people. No offense. Either that or someone with combat experience. I don’t even care, I’ll get someone who looks intimidating — just to send a message. I don’t trust you. That’s it. Funny. It’s not happening. So that could work. We can “get there,” sure, I suppose, we just never were there. Now, I got that. If you want me to use my actual personhood. I’m going to find someone. Now, since she’s never without her escort, I’m never without — hey, what’s your name? Even if I know it I’m asking, blatantly. X? Oh, I thought it was Fred. Daren. I keep on keeping him different names. You see? I’m throwing her cards. Spies.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Okay…”

“For what?”

Could be good.

I have to write that scene.

“Yes Jeff?”

But yes, I see a version of that one too now.

I might not feel comfortable being alone with you. I ain’t sugarcoating it. BLAH BLAH BLAH if I get ANY crap — it’s GORDON, Victor, Sam, blah blah blah. Who even are you? You see this type of conversation would be — what happened? Did you go through some transformation of self Dr. J? What even happened to you? I think I would be more interested in that. In her childhood. Where did you come from? I would go for that. Her life story. Her psychology fascinated me. Her protector…her genius, what is it? So, when you said x, y, z, what was that about? Was there a child molester in your childhood? Was it dark? I’m someone with a tremendous heart. So there’s a version of that. I can go there.

I probably wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Like people I know. I would probably tell no one. I would think about Harry, Jeff, this person I just keep calling by different names would be great in its own way, some unusual request. I suppose I would need to have some emotional moment, but that’s asking my character for A LOT. At the age I am at? 38. He said, make it in your 40s. But maybe “this person” might end up being a love interest, yeah, or someone who’s like — okay, so step one, funny, most people, um, emote, or have feelings…about this…? But it’s been a long time. I hardly knew this person. Truly. I went through that part. I can see that being compelling. Seeing my friends in town, too, something. No one asks me anything about my parents, because my father is dead, and they ask me about my adopted family. I would tell my Big Sister of America. I could assemble a supporting cast. I wouldn’t even tell my sister because she came from a totally fucked up family, so I’m not painting over her. It’s not happening. That’s a strict no. That’s just dinner, fun time. She could find out in another way, get mad, I could envision that too. Like she catches us — WHAT? That would shock her.

I can go there. Now I can. Something.

Maybe there’s some peace I find in that exchange.

Some wisdom. Something. I can put that hat on. In many ways. It’s really true.

“Far from Normal.” Far from Strange. I see that by the beach, for whatever reason. Something pretty. Some golden hour. Some particular light. Something. I see that as something maybe — she has some story to tell…she’s possibly twisted, since that’s how she appears, someone who might have been — I can’t imagine what her upbringing was like…it was always like that. She’s a human being, first, that’s more or less always been a true north. Was he a child molester? Were you? Did you give me drugs? Or was that just fear? You see.

I could see her inventing, not inventing, not knowing the difference, me employing techniques to unveil her. She was the chastest woman, for example, like unnecessarily so, like she’s never even had sex, and it’s not like I asked, but I simply suggested something about things being hard back there, or that she had a hard time back there… and based on what she said, I said — something. And this conversation veered into a place that struck me because it’s like, um, there’s nothing wrong with sex. Like, you don’t need to put on some act like you never had sex, basically, except once. That’s basically what you’re telling me. I get that “normal” people just pull away because it’s so weird, I get it, it hurts. But I’m not like that. Sex is totally fine. It’s the fact that she was so blatantly the opposite that concerned me. This talk. So, I would say, in your family, there were no boundaries, no consequences. Am I correct? Just because that was a VERY particular case. I got the Catholicism? It would be hard to believe that she would be totally out of delusion. EVEN I, me, I had to deal with delusion. I would go in, sure, but to really do my mother in one way or another, that’s a specific thing, if you want to make that artful, compelling, which she has the ingredients to be. So yeah, I can try that. I might not know for references, but I could picture some hilarious supporting role…someone I almost befriend on the spot. Who keeps going on the ride because it’s riveting. These conversations.

Now, the me going home for Dr. J in some serious way…I can see.

The fantastic Dr. J can still exist somewhere. Someone deliciously irreverent.

So now what? That would be for the supporting role.

Even her being in a mental institution. I get wind of that, I might go. I’m going to be interested in bringing her back. In some capacity. She’s going to be utterly delusional, it’s going to be a process. I can picture that too. She really did fascinate me. I would dismiss the escort faster than he could walk. I always wanted her to get help, obviously, and it was like, she had some kind of super strong belief system. I didn’t need to be there. She had a relationship, it seems, with someone who didn’t need to be there. She talks, I don’t know now, as if we have a relationship. On and on. Judy, this woman I spoke to in college, her secretary, was so dumbfounded when I told her I didn’t sing opera that she couldn’t speak. Total silence. I did not fill it. So, through the, “oh no, for mama, star,” there would be a strong layer, strong, that would be what I would expect. I would not resist. I would let that play out. I would probably not say much. I would observe her. She’s a case. But then, she works? She’s a coward. So maybe she’s gotta reach for courage. Sure. In a sense, she always acted as if nothing was real, which, um, if she asked a question, beyond “how are yoouuu…” Everything is — ah, nothing much beyond that. Now, I would just talk normally…right? I’m not afraid, fascinated, all this crap. I’m the one who called, when I did, not the other way around.

It seemed like she came from a real insane house or had some kind of psychological problem, some — well, I’m going boundaries, consequences, limits. Before ANY of that. 12 people in one room? That was her house? Her mother seemed to be crazy? This was a family problem? You were shipped off? You see, anything real might cause her to recede, avoid, it might be an interesting role — based on her behavior, I can’t exactly tell if she had suffered some kind of abuse, or there’s just no structure. No focus. But then, she had this…job…she still works. I don’t know what she does. But she worked…so that’s why I thought, maybe she has some kind of super tight focus in one area. Sort of a savant. Show me what you can do. I’m interested in her. In a sense. Or, tell me Dr. J, who put you down so extremely? When you say no one since this is almost someone in the pathos department, someone who was “pathetic,” so based on her operation, why are you accosting the priest with your rapes right before he’s going to process for mass? Is that…true? Or is this just a game? Like that.

I can make that…a variety of things…but, do I tell him…the producer? I can begin to conceive of a piece about me going home… at least, conceptually. I can get a coke, tray, right? Not even do the whole set-up to get there. Some cafeteria in some spiritual hospital, I don’t know, on the beach. It doesn’t have to be real…Space can change. Maybe it does for her. Is it fluid, Dr. J? Something less real. Or expected. Maybe it was just a dream. I would do scenes of finding this supporting role, in some capacity, and maybe skip to the ride over…go from there. I can make that a couple of things. I guess my boyfriend could go…I guess I could call my old trainer. That could be funny too, she’s a woman. Just someone who could beat you up, if necessary. And maybe that might be necessary, some super-trained person who just shuts it down. It’s okay, woooo, arms swinging.

“The spies.”

Maybe a spy.

Maybe I go to Washington lol make an unusual request. “Look,” in Jerry Maguire way, I need a spy. For old time’s sake. I need a spy to come with me. “What do you do?”

“I work for the government.”

“What do you do… for the government,” they might ask.

“I’m a federal agent.”

And I will smile. “Thank you Winston.”

It’s not that I think her escort is a trained agent, it’s that — regardless — I don’t want to play games. In that, I’m going to probably go overboard in taking you seriously, as a point. I ain’t beating around the bush. Pretending these things haven’t be said. I’m a bit biting like that. All things considered. And the last time, this escort got testy with my former brother. I understand he was “looking at you.” But you threatened to hit him. And probably this person is going to look to you…based on how this normally goes. So if THAT’s a problem. “Sure,” things got heated, barely. All because…I stopped by to “have a talk” to talk with my mother, you know, the one — right? I ticked her off last time, he said, that was really something, all things considered. So now, I’m not 26, 27, however old I was, somewhere around there. Where “why” was the grand question it took me so long to get to — I’m getting up, and literally throwing you. Telling Tom, always a different name — to throw him against the wall. Are you licensed to practice in the state of California? I would slap you. Ticked her off. Madman.

Isn’t that right Ulysses?

So, now, for whatever reason, don’t have to explain it, I’m home in front of a mother I never knew with some supporting role and he can’t help it FRED, how many names…I’m calling him…and you know, on some spiritual level, if it was one of those, I would probably be able to have a final conversation with her…in some poetic pocket of the universe. I could. Even in another scenario all together.

Do I say that? If you want me to do a “go home to Dr. “ movie J in some capacity, I can do that now with some hilarious role. Just say you’re a federal agent, who cares? With these people? Who knows, maybe this person and I fall in love so immediately it’s ridiculous.

I would use this supporting character, I guess, to catch you up…I could do a Costner opening in Field of Dreams where — so, this has been…the five times I’ve seen Dr. J. “By the time I was 2…” Or I’d reveal that through the movie with this supporting lead. Pumping iron sometimes. Taking cold baths. You know. Getting healthy LA grub. Making me get back into physical exercise. He’s learning as we go. I’ll think about other supporting roles. Like my sister? What? He’s going to say. Oh?

I gotta go to bed. I’ll think about some kind of going home to Dr. J.

GARY. “Listen, JOE.”

I can still do family drama. I’m practically there. I have to rework these sections. I have to figure out the visual style but the menorah and lambada page will always be…very close to my heart.

I took Friday afternoon and today to just “be,” because I have to finish this bible, and maybe a week will be totally fine, 6 days. I’ll take the ride with this family…I wish I had more time, but maybe it’s better this way, but conceiving in this way is a bit easier for me, thus far. But then, I guess I could take any of these ideas for a ride. So, maybe I will.

Anyway, it’s late, and I’m going to bed.