Extremely Loud

The film I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for, was acceptable.

It hurt to watch. It made me fall in love with the book again, because the book is so much more. It's an intensely sad two hours. Normally to avoid crying in cinemas, I tell myself it's not real. Because it never is. I'm not talking about the historical back-drop here, but the fact that you're witnessing a bunch of actors do what they do best. That old line didn't work.

I felt like it was me, and that book. Problem being, that you can park the book, take a deep breath, and get on with your life. But here, the sorrow is constant. Yes, a  bit much, a bit milked. No, I don't like crying on, off, on. off in public places, and having to imagine dancing chickens across their faces as a distraction.

It's one of those films that pushes a little of that necessary thankfulness into you. You know, I'm so lucky, stop taking things for granted etc etc. And we do all need that in healthy doses during our lives. For me, I wanted to have written it. It was like a taunt, this is what the written word can do, and you my friend, are not doing it.

Maybe that's why I ended up writing at 7am this morning at work? Maybe not.

I wouldn't advise you to see the film on the big screen, or even with friends. Rent it, and watch it alone. It's too personal to sit in a crowd with. It's not to be shared. I think we all wanted to howl, and sob, but spent two hours fighting it and ashamed.

But read the book first, enjoy the delight of the book first. Trust me, it's what Foer would want.

The best part of the film, is where Oskar is telling his Grandfather his story, and all the words start to overlap, and the images, and it feels like too much emotion everywhere. It was like listening too closely to yourself. Summary? Painful, and brilliant.

Also, don't read the book on a Kindle. becuase I really don't want to get violent.