Her sadness lies in swollen sacs below her eyes.
Her glimmer has been on a dimmer, one guesses for a decade now, or even two.
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| Seeing herself being seen: effort to sit alone in a restaurant. |
Does she look like herself. That is a question she asks. Her face tells us she no longer identifies with what she sees as "me/I.” Her gaze refuses to recognize the change and experience physicalized on her face and body. The role she has played; trophy wife, beautiful object, beloved princess, is now utterly unplayable. We can feel as she starts to realize, and to wonder, did others notice she could no longer play the role before she herself did?
The primary question the film examines is not "WHO?" is he now being romantic with, but "WHY?" Why are We no longer ?
Why some other woman? Are they younger, is their light still shining brighter? Are they thinner?
Time is foregrounded. Each momentary glance at her face and or figure is something we learn takes her not just hours, but months to prepare for.
Because of Time's very infallibility, her endeavors will take increasing effort and increasing amounts of time; yet still they may be in vain. Every circumstance where she is dolled up, she inserts herself as a still figure looking for a moving target; immobile in the frame.
Most often a thinner and younger comparable figure of female desirability is featured in the same frame; vital and spry.
Henry Fonda , who she longs for and long waits for, is finally standing beside her in the frame. It is about or over halfway into the picture. He scans her face; he is pleased, but she does not please him. Her age is inescapable and time can be momentarily erased; never disregarded.
The melancholy in the picture is based around the wasted time and effort of a woman outside of time; counting for survival on the skills of the young; oblivious to her strained out of fashion looks she struggles to create.
It is unfortunate when life outlives you.
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