A Place on One’s Own
When in the throes of writing a new piece, like I am now, I crave companionship. Not to knock Mookie and not to write a sob song of singledom, but when I’m deep in it, a friendly face and good banal conversation is what I’m after. The discipline of writing—and many other arts—is a solitary one. To create with honesty I require total focus. The emotionally draining task of immersing myself in the characters world, leaves me drained and starved when I re-emerge into my own reality; A ride that I willingly take like a masochist, time and time again to get a good bit of drama. Interesting then that I re-charge my batteries by delving into the drama of others, specifically writers on the screen.
There is no shortage of films about writers.From the trivial fantasy of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, to the frighteningly hopeless depravity of Leaving Las Vegas, writers are catnip for film writers. The favourites that I love to watch when I’m in need of solidarity are Something’s Gotta Give and La Grande Bellezza, charming writers escapades in worlds I will never inhabit. Yet the one film that captures almost every facet of being a writer and therefore comes at the top of my heap with a silver bullet is A Lonely Place.
One of Humphrey Bogart’s finer films, A Lonely Place details the trials and tribulations of being a magician of the written word with such deftness, that you forget it’s actually a murder mystery. Yes, the death of a young woman is sort-of central, but the nasty,short, brutishness of Bogart’s character makes you question whether you should root for him or why he’s actually a writer. It’s in his relationships with the other characters, that characteristics so typical of a writer become apparent. The excessive drinking, the constant need for inspiration, and the loneliness that comes from always wanting things your way. Now, my personality pays no relation to that of Dixon Steele’s and I’d kill to have his level of success, but I understand his isolation and the madness that can come from being alone too often. It’s a curse and a necessity that all writers wrangle with at any stage in their scrivener’s journey.
So, I lied. I wrote earlier that this wouldn’t be a lament to singledom, but it inadvertently is. Just as much as I like my alone time, I wouldn’t mind having a Laurel Gray. Someone who question’s my motives and pushes me out. Dix comes to life in A Lonely Place when he meets Laurel, a connection that gives him the impetus to write something again.I will always write, though I wouldn’t mind having someone around who tells me that I’m full of shit sometimes.