I contracted some sort of mutant strain
of Chicken Pox
when I was 17. The blisters
were much larger than normal, and the physical toll
on my my body was much worse than normal.
I couldn't wear clothes because of the intense physical pain
caused by contact between my
skin and anything more substantial than air. I hadn't slept because of the pain. I hadn't
eaten because, even when I got the food past the blisters in my mouth, my stomach
weakened that it couldn't hold in anything. After the first day, my stomach couldn't even
. On the way to the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face
was so deformed
by blisters that I threw up.
After 48 hours of this, I was on the brink of insanity. At 5am I stumbled out of my room,
wearing just a pair of boxer shorts for modesty's sake. The living room was absolutely
freezing, it being mid-november and the fire being nothing more than a tiny pile of cinders.
Every second was like an hour and I was so damn thirsty. I was also really uncomfortable, because
I had to sit on a tiny corner of the chair to avoid more pain. I wasn't sure how much more of
it could take.
My brother had rented out a video that night. TV not being very good at 5am, I slipped it in.
I didn't even really want to watch it, but hell, it was company. It was something to play in
The trailers ended. I sort of half-noticed the start of the film, with the dull business
meeting. Then the fat bloke threw himself out the window. I half-smiled. "Y'know, for kids."
I laughed out loud.
By the time Tim Robbins was running around Paul Newman's office with his leg on fire, I had
become so utterly absorbed by this film that I had completely forgotten my physical condition.
By the time it had ended, I was wrapped in a duvet, gently sipping some water and grinning
from ear to ear. It was as if I had achieved Nirvana - I felt like I had gone beyond the realm
of physical sensation into a whole other, Coen brothers created world.
Now admittedly I wasn't in the best mental condition to form critiques of movies - shortly
after the film ended, I watched Sesame Street and woke up my family by loudly joining
in all the word games. But The Hudsucker Proxy does hold a special place in my heart, mainly
because I think it wouldn't still be beating if I hadn't seen it that night.