Page 612 - A Little Life: A Novel
P. 612

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                ONE OF THE first movies Willem ever starred in was a project called Life After
                Death. The film was a take on the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, and was
                told  from  alternating  perspectives  and  shot  by  two  different,  highly
                regarded  directors.  Willem  played  O.,  a  young  musician  in  Stockholm
                whose girlfriend had just died, and who had begun having delusions that
                when he played certain melodies, she would appear beside him. An Italian
                actress, Fausta, played E., O.’s deceased girlfriend.

                   The joke of the movie was that while O. stared and wept and mourned for
                his love from earth, E. was having a terrific time in hell, where she could,
                finally,  stop  behaving:  stop  looking  after  her  querulous  mother  and  her
                harassed father; stop listening to the whining of the clients she tried to help
                as a lawyer for the indigent but who never thanked her; stop indulging her

                self-absorbed  friends’  endless  patter;  stop  trying  to  cheer  her  sweet  but
                perpetually morose boyfriend. Instead, she was in the underworld, a place
                where the food was plentiful and where the trees were always sagging with
                fruit,  where  she  could  make  catty  comments  about  other  people  without
                consequence,  a  place  where  she  even  attracted  the  attention  of  Hades
                himself,  who  was  being  played  by  a  large,  muscular  Italian  actor  named
                Rafael.

                   Life  After  Death  had  divided  the  critics.  Some  of  them  loved  it:  they
                loved  how  the  film  said  so  much  about  two  different  cultures’
                fundamentally  different  approach  to  life  itself  (O.’s  story  was  shot  by  a
                famous Swedish director in somber grays and blues; E.’s story was told by
                an Italian director known for his aesthetic exuberance), while at the same
                time offering glints of gentle self-parody; they loved its tonal shifts; they

                loved how tenderly, and unexpectedly, it offered solace to the living.
                   But others had hated it: they thought it jarring in both timbre and palette;
                they hated its tone of ambivalent satire; they hated the musical number that
                E.  participates  in  while  in  hell,  even  as  her  poor  O.  plinks  away
                aboveground on his chilly, spare compositions.
                   But although the debate over the movie (which practically no one in the
                States  saw,  but  about  which  everyone  had  an  opinion)  was  impassioned,
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