I remember watching Amelie for the first time. I was a freshmen at Adrian College and it was like, foreign film week maybe? Adrian has less than 1,000 students total, it’s in the middle of nowhere south eastern Michigan, so foreign film week consisted of the hot, long haired foreign language teacher setting up a projector in a normal sized class room and showing movies to the 5 – 10 interested students.
We went because Amelie got a very good recommendation from Chelsea, who grew up in Royal Oak, where they get foreign films in their movie theaters. We all psychotically loved it, of course, but I remember thinking how weird it was that she made these elaborate meals for herself. She lived alone and would always be cooking or baking away. At the time I was eating cookies for lunch and fries for dinner and living in a dorm room, so the idea of cooking anything was pretty foreign to me.
Dinner for One
Saturday night I found myself sauteing fresh zucchini, broccoli, and mushrooms in olive oil and garlic, adding half a can of diced tomatoes and a tablespoon of tomato paste. I cooked and drained the whole wheat pasta and threw it in with the vegetables. I finished it with red pepper flakes and fresh cracked pepper. After I plated it I grated some parmesan on top. I walked back to my bed, unpaused Felicity, and ate it alone. It was amazing. The zucchini was perfectly cooked, the mushrooms were super meaty and the broccoli tops soaked up the tomato sauce and garlic.
I care about myself, so I cook for myself. I love cooking, so I cook for myself. I don’t need an audience.
In one of the last scenes, though, Amelie is baking herself a plum cake, I think, and she is out of baking soda, maybe? So she imagines that cute boy from the train stations stopping on his way home to pick some up for her. And she imagines him sneaking into her house to surprise her with it, and he makes a little noise to let her know he is there, but it turns out to be the cat making the noise, and she is all alone, with no baking soda.
That happens, too.
Or you make yourself an entire pan of brownies and eat them all with your hands while watching Amelie, saying over and over, ‘Without you, today’s emotions would be the scurf of yesterday’s', and ‘these are tough times for dreamers’, until you wake up the next morning covered in brownie drool.
People tell me I look like her sometimes.
Audrey
Me
It is easily my favorite compliment, and maybe we have similar eyes and eyebrows? Cheeks? Dimple, sure, but I’m pretty sure that is where the similarity ends.
That, and cooking. Because, obviously, Audrey is like Amelie pre-cute boy. Also, pre-The DaVinci Code. I’m sure she pretends, like I do, that that never happened.
you DO look like audrey! amelie is one of my favorite movies!
Comment by Lynn @ The Actors Diet — July 28, 2009 @ 12:38 am
Aww shucks
Comment by allyson — July 28, 2009 @ 9:02 am