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At least hanging a giant mirror with my girlfriend during intermission seemed odd to me, unlike this movie.
Photo: Neon
To set the scene: it’s a Monday night. The plan is to cook dinner for my girlfriend and then park her on the sofa together to watch Ammonite, the new lesbian costume drama starring Saoirse Ronan and Kate Winslet. We’re making chicken Caesar salad, the house’s favorite. Anchovies and extra lemon in the dressing. And the chicken breaded in panko and fried in my cast iron skillet so that it essentially becomes a giant golden crouton. However, you can call the whole thing a salad and feel vaguely good about eating something nutritious.
What could be better, really? I thought to myself as you beat egg yolks and oil together in a metal bowl. A nice dinner and two hours of British accents and sidelong glances between two excellent actors who would eventually have some – so I had heard – some decently arousing and realistically queer sex. Also, fossils? Delicious.
I lightly crunchy the chicken and, after deactivating the smoke detector, we sit down to eat and resume the film. And then … nothing. Not, like, on a technical level (the HDMI cable to television setup we’re using is doing great). On the screen, I mean. What little he earns mainly entails mud and crashing waves and Winslet silently condemning a stupid man who is just slowing her down as he trawls the coast by clawing through the mud in search of specimens. This man is obviously married to Ronan, whom he unceremoniously leaves in Winslet’s care as he leaves town on business for about a month. Ok, well, with him gone maybe this can finally go gay. Oh, and there’s Fiona Shaw. I’m getting major former vibrations between her and Winslet. Interesting. Interesting.
Ronan is recovering from his fever by spending days and nights in Winslet’s bed while Winslet watches from a wooden chair across the room. At this point, I send a message to my colleague Rachel Handler: “Hi, you saw Ammonite? “ “Hi yes,” he replies. “I’m a third of the way down and all Saoirse Ronan has done is appear damp on various levels ???? Am I so bored ???? “I reply, desperate to know if I’m broke or if this movie is as much of a nap as it sounds.” It’s awfully slow and boring. There are like 2 sex scenes ok, “Rachel tells me. Okay, I think, something to look forward to. “Lesbian tension doesn’t need anything to cut it because it doesn’t exist !!!” I shout on the phone. “Yeah, they don’t have chemistry,” agrees Rachel, before joining a conversation about how we’d like this film to be about Fiona Shaw, the city’s mysterious and rich dam. (We also note Clea Duvall’s upcoming romantic Christmas comedy, which I gave up watching tonight. Ammonite. It’s a decision I’m starting to regret.)
Fifty minutes into the movie, Ronan, is finally recovering from the fever – which she had from nearly drowning in the freezing ocean because a “doctor” had told her swimming would fix her sad, weird female brain and she can’t. imagining why losing a child could have affected her in such a bad mental way – she tells Winslet that it’s stupid sleeping in a chair and inviting her to bed. At this point, we pause the movie and decide to take a break to assemble a giant IKEA mirror that we bought months ago and that we never got to hang, so he’s been sitting in the hallway of our building threatening to crush us every time. we pass. . This takes half an hour and we eventually drilled the anchor holes too high and slightly crooked, so we’ll have to redo it later. But that’s over for now. At least hanging the giant mirror together seemed strange to us, unlike this film that we now have to finish.
Rachel was right, and we watch the two “ok ish” sex scenes, but honestly I spend most of the evening screaming things on the television like, “Kate Winslet is eating out Saoirse Ronan right in front of my eyes and I’m still bored!” AmmoniteThe credit is, there is a moment when Ronan is on top of Winslet and she leans her face and arms and all her weight against the wall against which the bed is pushed which made me raise my eyebrows for just a moment and think Oh, ok, someone did their homework. But that moment is extremely fleeting and really shortly after, Ronan’s husband – announced in a letter – sends a carriage to take her away. At this point, it’s frustrating but not surprising that the two don’t talk about the departure in any meaningful way. Which, well, just Google “lesbian processing” if you want a better idea of why this looks blank.
Eighty percent of the film’s dialogue occurs in the last 15 minutes and, Oh, so now they talk and fight and they’re madly in love. Where has he been for the last hour and a half? Specifically, it happens when Winslet jumps on a boat and visits Ronan at his fictional home in London. When he arrives, Ronan reveals that he has created an entire bedroom for Winslet and hopes he will move … forever? With her? Why is her husband apparently so obsessed with fossils now that he won’t care? Winslet is, understandably, like “No” and also, “Why didn’t you tell me any of this in the letter you sent me summoning me here?” She also throws herself into a hellish smear about how if she was better warned she wouldn’t waste the boat ticket. This is the dam drama I have come to see, but it is simply too little, too late. I don’t care how beautifully framed the final shot is, I just don’t There There.
At the end of the film, the two, of course, as this is a lesbian drama, will not end happily ever after. (This will be Tuesday night entertainment, I can only assume, when we watch The happiest season.) My girlfriend makes a comment saying that it seems possible that it took as long to watch this movie as before a true fossil was formed in nature. Which I recognize was probably an artistic decision, but not one that works Ammoniteis the favor. The joke is on her though, because she’s right. My body is now permanently petrified in our sofa. A fossil of the gay I was three hours ago.
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