Sunday, Bloody Sunday

That they both love Bob (Murray Head) seems a conundrum. But
Daniel and Alex are of an age when there might be no one else,
save Bob, who is one of those curious, mercurial people who can
go from person to person, without caring one bit, beginning,
during, after. He literally feels nothing, save the rudimentary ( the
word is full of them) but he is perhaps seen by Daniel and Alex as
what they want him to be. Such is love. They recreate him from his

vagueness. And of course they must not be jealous of Bob's other
lovers. Such as Bob always require that, and consider otherwise to
be so bloody selfish.

He doesn't intentionally hurt anyone. He uses people as things, so,
to him, they are replaceable. When he is the replaceable one, if only
they could see it. He is not worth their integrity, and intelligence
and complexity of heart. Yet, when one loves, one cannot think of
him or her without making them, perhaps, mythic. To someone

else, they would be just another person, for others see them as
ordinary. This, the film explores with such finesse and grace.

Daniel has a monologue, told to us personally, the words of which
are beautiful and touching, that just about rips your heart out. Finch
adds to the words, so seemingly somewhat matter of factly saying
them, ( a person has to comport themselves properly after all)
though from deep inside, with such thought and honesty, and
searching still in these later years, and with no apology. You see the
worth and goodness of the man most especially then. You want to
put your arms around Daniel and Alex and hug them, for their love
is doomed, as they know too well. They are having to deal with the
loss, the void, to reconcile themselves to it, even during Bob, and
learning how to get through the day, routinely, like everyone else
pretends to.

"Sunday Bloody Sunday" is a film that one feels honored to see. Its
ad line-- "This is a story about three decent people. They will break
your heart." Indeed.

When this movie first came out, it had that wonderful aura that many of the pictures of that era did: the essence of the forbidden--the promise that new and undiscovered worlds and situations would be examined that had never been dealt with in film before. I remember the same feeling accompanying "Cries and Whispers", "McCabe and Mrs. Miller", and "Women in Love", movies which have stood the test of time. "Sunday, Bloody Sunday", though not without its flaws, has also held up. Its a perfect time capsule of a certain period of time and change for working-class Londoners still woozy from the Sixties and not anywhere near ready for what would be the Eighties. Its also a remarkable document of a brilliant actress at the height of her estimable powers. Highly recommended.