I watched Philadelphia again last night. The Guy had never seen it, and I was eager to watch it with him. I was afraid I wouldn’t like it as much as I had when I first saw it a few years ago. As had happened with a number of other movies I’d seen recently, I was afraid its allure would have faded.
But I loved it as much as before. I was touched again by its sensitivity, its poignancy. When it ended, the Guy refused to discuss it: he thought it was too good to criticize, even to praise.
Denzel Washington is one of my favourite actors, and it was exciting to revisit the movie that made him one of my favourite actors. I liked him as much as ever. The man is so good that I find it impossible to separate him from the character he plays. And perhaps what I love most about the movie is the personal journey of Joe Miller from a homophobic man to a sensitive, generous one.
Watching this movie is even more relevant in a country where homosexuality is a crime. Andrew Becketts in India are not merely unlikely to get legal redress for being discriminated against: they are likely to be imprisoned. Now I need to watch My Brother... Nikhil again.
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