23rd
0087
I finally went to see the Popova/Rodchenko exhibition in the Tate Modern today. I really felt sorry for the whole bunch; they were all so full of joy and ethusiasm, spent years coming up with the perfect artform that would serve the people under the glorious new system and then Stalin came along and said: “SOCIALIST REALISM TIEM NAO”. Bummer.
Also, I watched “Sex in the City: The Movie”. I’d never actually seen anything from this series, so I decided to go for an overview. I still regret it. I struggle to recall when I had last seen a film so bad. The hollowness of all the characters depressed me, the near-sexual aura created spending huge wads of money alarmed me, the emphasis put on shoes and dresses and designer labels made me wonder if women really are that daft, obvious ego issues of all authors involved spewed from the screen; then there was the hypocrisy of claiming love and friends are what’s important in life but portraying real happiness as a new pair of shoes/a new handbag/a designer dress, and on top of all that the acting was dreadful. The only redeeming feature of the entire film was Jason Lewis, and he was present only to have sex once, be late a couple of times and be dumped in the end.I think I don’t have big enough ego issues and/or minority complexes to enjoy a film about a lifestyle that I find empty and pointless. Oh, well.
