Live twice, Love once
When you cross the forties, you get to realize that you do not have much time in your hands. Not that living another thirty to forty years is anything less. It is because of the increased probability of a health hazard that can upset you from what you want to accomplish.
Live twice, Love once is a movie I recently watched on Netflix. When Emilio, a Math professor, slowly comes to grip with Alzheimer’s, he has a flash of his memories as a youth, his girl friend whom he loved. He would like to find that girl as his memory is fading gradually even over simple counting of numbers. His daughter who has a daughter in school and an uncaring husband having an extra marital affair, finally leaves her, she tries to find the father’s childhood friend. They go on a journey and finally find her.
The story is neat and flows smoothly. The movie has a slight unexpected ending. The way the story is told, the closeup angles of the camera, the slow movement of the narration all brings you close to the characters and at times you feel your memory is fading. Such is the effect it has on you. Having grown with a dose of villains in movies, your mind constantly tries to look for one. But there are none. The daughter who takes care of the father and helps him to find his childhood girlfriend has a major role to play as a housewife, a Medical sales person, wife of a husband who does not dislike her, but has other interests, a teen kid who is very smart but disabled and so on. The movie shows the world of the daughter, the teen grand daughter in reasonable detail apart from the main story line where it interjects with the Math prof’s life.
Overall, it gives you an idea of what old people go through. The solitary life, the memories, coming to terms with a disabled life and so on. Even though the Math professor is lonely, he does not feel it in this movie. He seems quite happy, going about his routine, but for the Alzheimer’s slowly eating his brain.
It is dreadful to even think of what happens when you lose your memory. We are all about our memories. I don’t know the countless times in a day you are sitting on your memory pile munching an event of the past. Your emotions, your ego are a result of your memory. What sort of person would you be without the ego you have nourished all your life, which defines you ? It is like you end up living a second life without the trace of the past? They are almost like children. If they are left to themselves, they will die probably not remembering to eat? Life comes a full circle and a bit harsh towards the end in some cases it looks like. It reminds you to be Good when you are who you think you are.
