And I'm painted black.
One faulty vacuum cleaner. Hardly makes a squeak, and rightly so. Airtime is reserved for only those who truly matter; and in this movie, only to those drawn together by their love for beautiful harmonies, honest lyrics, raw sounds and melodious voices. The warmth, the love, the fire – they all seem to come straight from the heart, and you – you, all lounged out comfortably on your sofa hugging a soft red cushion, eyes transfixed to the screen – can actually feel it.
Every note they strike, leaves in my head a jingle; every note they sing, makes my insides tingle.
This is somewhat of a bittersweet affair. And you know what? This could have been you or me, but hey – news flash – not all of us can be what we want to be. It is not so much for fame nor for the money – rather, it is for being able to believe; to hold on to your dreams; to reach for the stars; to turn fantasy into reality.
That, unfortunately, does not happen to each and every one of us, but it makes you feel genuinely happy when things fall into place for those lucky ones.
The ending is pure ace – I thought it would go down the cliched, well used path, but no – it was not what I expected at all. And I am more than thankful for that, because that is how things are, and that is how things can be – not how things should be.
Making music out of love; making love out of music. If the end result is this, does it matter which?