I wrote this yesterday in my paper journal, because I thought it was too embarrassing to post on a blog for people to read. But then I remembered the vow from my first post: to be brutally, fiercefully, vulnerably and nakedly honest. I guess that leaves me no choice then...
There is something really disturbing in the way I tend to fall in love with actors. It is genuinly embarrassing and you should know I am truly ashamed of myself. I know the world of logical reasoning human beings doesn't like me to proclaim my love for an actor, or to write about my crush. It is known to be foolish, childish, irrational and...boring actually also. Boring? Yes, boring. Especially since I'm supposed to have outgrown puberty.
But...just...how....aargh! How am I supposed to deal with this situation then? The situation being: I just watched The Last King of Scotland and I am left having all these heavy feelings towards James McAvoy. Am I supposed to ignore or deny it? And to ignore and deny the desire to write about it, to pin down the feelings word by word on this piece of paper? Please, please let me have this moment. Please be embarrassed with me, or for me, I don't care. Let's have it.
In this film he is just so...real. So real that it feels as though I could just reach out to the screen and touch him. It makes me want to laugh when he's laughing, cry when he's crying, be in pain when he's in pain. There's just such passion in his acting. When you deliver an effort like this, (and really, for the record, I know Forest Whitaker does the same, but it's a matter of attraction) you could just simply just die and not feel a spark of regret. It is worth your life. It is all you have to live for, to be able to do something with such passion, even if it is just one little thing, it will be worth it. Every tiny move he makes, when he raises his eyebrows, when he twitches his lip, when he gazes into the horizon, I am with him, right there. And the fact that he is so present, that he throws all of himself into his act, is what makes him so beautiful. Sometimes I tend to believe that people in the North-Western part of the world have no feeling for passion. But you just have to take one look at this Scot to know that you're wrong. You get to see it all. You get to see him at his most vulnerable, when he's scared, when he's horny, when he feels like all the world is open to him, when he's naive. That's probably why you fall in love so fast and so hard. Because in our normal lives we spend a lot of effort hiding these things from each other. The ugliness, the weirdness, the laziness, the nonchalant, the naive. When you do get a glimpse, it means you've come very close.
Closeness. To be able to feel close.
Isn't it sad that this closeness is fake? The closer you feel, the better the acting, the less real it is.
But I do.
just.
keep.
on.
having my childish dreams of actually ever coming close to...mr. James McAvoy.
