Weekend recovery from "Flight"

I had forgotten the blissful promise of an unstructured weekend ahead.  Not because my weekends are usually structured, but because my working weeks are unconventional and unpredictable.  Lately, business is booming and I'm actually working five days a week.  I have no complaints about this, but when I went to bed last night exhausted and woke up this morning, two hours later than on any of the previous five days and without an alarm to prompt me, I was looking forward to the weekend.  Until a couple of weeks ago, I would have had choir rehearsal to attend, but I recently left the group I was with and so there wasn't even the call of my beloved music.

Reading in bed is one of my pleasures.  I do it every night before sleep, but rarely have the opportunity to do it in the morning.  This morning I did.  I could have stayed there all day, but the lure of blue skies and temperate weather (Melbourne in autumn!) was too strong to resist.

Not a bad spot to wait for a train.  Yarraville.
©divacultura 2013

I walked to the village.  Wandered around.  Cashed a money order I had received. Sat waiting for the train, not really caring if it never came.  Visited my favourite dress shop and found something to spend a loyalty voucher on.  Then I decided to go to lock myself away and go to the movies.

"Flight", the film that saw Denzel Washington receive an Oscar nomination for best actor, was on and so I went.




It's quite extraordinary.  The beginning of the film paints a picture of Captain Whip Whittaker on an ordinary working day.  We see him prepare for the flight and imagine what it must be like to sit next to a co-pilot that we're meeting for the first time.  There's rough weather.  Things start to go wrong.  The rest of the flight is one of the most evocative pieces of cinema that I've sat through.  I felt like I was on the plane and felt the fear and stress of knowing that the plane was going to crash.  Tears started to run down my cheeks.  I couldn't breathe.

What's interesting is that the plane crash isn't really the point of the film.  It's the story of a man's path to face what he is denying: that he is an alcoholic.  The courage it takes to shepherd a diving plane to the ground with minimal loss of life is nothing compared to the courage required to recognise your own self destruction and betrayal of all the people who love you.

It was worth sacrificing some sunshine for this amazing experience.  I highly recommend the film, but I hope they don't show it when I catch a flight in a couple of weeks.

As for the second day of this two day expanse, I have nothing to look forward to except the prospect of nothing in particular and anything I want.

What are you doing this weekend?