Amid the chaos of work, I took last night off and went for chick flick night with the gals. We watched Julie and Julia, based on the blogger Julie Powell who cooks her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in one year, and Julia Child's arrival in France and her creation and completion of the book. The Julie bits were uniformly dull, the actors were hopelessly outmatched by Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci. I could have watched the Julia Child movie really. If you rent it, don't even bother watching the bits without Meryl Streep. As an aside, her shoes were also gorgeous.
What left an impression on me more than anything else was the relationship between Julia Child and her husband, Paul. One of my friends has told me that the portrayal of the relationship actually seems to be very true-to-life based on what she's read about it, but I guess that doesn't really matter other than to realise that a relationship like theirs can exist outside of a movie theater.
At one point in the movie, Paul is toasting his wife and remembering their first dinner date, and he says, "and suddenly it was just Julia, always Julia", that realization that he was staring at the person that was for him. That seems to sum up the portrayal, the Childs both seem to have found the person who answered the other halves of their individual conversations, whose thoughts were not the same, but who completed and enhanced each other's discourse. What an amazing thing it must be to find a person who stimulates and supports you, body and soul, someone you feel that certain of and trust so completely. I know that I may never have that, but I want it. I've spent a lot of time recently pondering love and relationships and there's a lot of stuff that I can't share with you here, but it seems that I have turned into a hopeless romantic of late and I see no reason to go back to being anything else.
I'm here, come and get me before I change my mind.