Day 3: My fake life in a movie

Midnight in Paris (2011)

By Ciara Midreé — October 4, 2017

Trying to think of a movie that represents my idea of my life is hard. What is my fake life? It is probably one in which I’m a confident and productive writer who writes all the time while still managing to go out every weekend, meet new people, and make new friends at the drop of a hat. Or does my fake life movie show a world I would like to live in? Multiple people I would like to be? Times I would like to live through?

If so, if my fake life is all of these things, then I would have to say my fake life in a movie is Midnight in Paris. Putting Woody Allen himself aside (it’s difficult, but his work got into my head before I knew anything of his abuses), putting him aside, I look to his art and I see people who are just as tragically human as me, but who somehow manage to function beautifully. Some movies feature characters coping less than others (I tend to look past Interiors in favor of Hannah and Her Sisters, skip Match Point in favor of Scoop, look past the painful Blue Jasmine back to the much more emotionally manageable Annie Hall, so that everything remains happy go-neurotic for longer). The movie that I turn to the most, just for escapism, is Midnight in Paris.

I love this film. Unlike other writer/directors who rely primarily on their dialogue and characters to carry their movies, Allen actually grew in visual expertise, and he presents something truly fascinating here. All warm color, inviting characters, and magical realism, the film drinks you in, much like ideas of nostalgia do. The feeling reminds me of when I was twelve and I started reading The Sorcerer’s Stone. For months, I wished (and waited) for a letter from Hogwarts. Midnight in Paris is Harry Potter for adults.

Just the notion that I could wander around a city, never be seen writing, yet somehow produce a manuscript worthy of Gertrude Stein’s attention— that’s magical. In this world, I could happen upon a random street one night and, quite by chance, be whisked away into a magnificent past that is welcoming, encouraging, and perfectly suited to me. That’s a fake life I would love to lead.