The movie premiered today. I was surprised how intensely I felt today; it was almost as if, in some ways, the book was published again and I was going through all those emotions one goes through when a book comes out.
Difference being, as a writer you can generally expect to see, say, 2-3 reviews a week—max. I woke up this morning to nearly 30 emails of film reviews. They just kept rolling in all day
I'd say the response has been pretty positive. I'm deeply happy for Jacques Audiard and the actors, Matthias and Marion, who have received well-earned plaudits for their performances.
It's crazy, though: if you see 10 reviews and 9 are positive and one is negative, or even middling-positive, THAT is the one you dwell on.
And I say so with the full understanding that my contribution to it all is distant at this point: I provided the seed, really. But it still hurts to see a review that's not a rave—not for me, honestly, but for Mr. Audiard. Not that he needs my overwrought emotional outbursts, but anyway, all I'm saying is it's honestly not a concern for me as a writer or a person at this point—right now it's an empathetic response for a great artist, and a fear that, in every less-than-raving review, I might've had some weird part in it.
Isn't that bizarre? I don't even know if I've explained it very well at all. I need pills.
I will have a piece in the National Post this Saturday where I talk a little more deeply about the experience leading up to the film insofar as my involvement was concerned—and beyond that, what a simple joy it's been to see this process develop. I recognize it's been a remarkable turn of events and I can only be grateful that, weirdly, it happened to me.
Here's a little article that came out today, too. Chris Knight from The Post called me at work. I like Chris. Good writer. Nice talking to him.
More to come on this topic, I'm sure.
All best, Craig.