Leestijd 3-5 minuten
Engelstalige sonnetten, doorgaans in iambische pentameter, meer als gevolg van enthousiasme dan kunde. Frivool qua inhoud, dubieus qua filmkritische waarde maar evenwel met ernst en passie geschreven.
What Dreams May Come (1998)
A man, alone, with weakened heart doth tread
Among the saved and those who fly unchained
And watches with wet eye that bliss ahead
That keeps him from his true delight detained
A journey dauntless he did start from there
To join himself anew with she who fell
Through scenes that would dissuade all heaven’s fair
From half the task and hurt that he would quell
Mine eyes, mine eyes! What bliss beheld they here
Such artful scenes that rouse my tender soul
Yet leave behind no lasting light nor cheer
For subtle not the one that wrote the whole
Refined is not the tale that one is told
Yet beauty fills the screen we do behold
Joy (2015)
As cold and callous as that heinous night
Which raged outside the warm red room in which
We sat and hoped for glee to bless our sight;
So too, alas, the film in drab was rich
Inspiring tale, what buds must lie in thee
That joyous gard’ners with more zeal could plant
And make with care into a grander tree
Which would, once seen, all earnest hearts enchant
Oh family, what strange technique supports
The structure of your most uncanny home
When only one amid yourselves comports
As though there is real thought within her dome
Bemoan this story, lifeless, blank and bland;
Like soap op’ras of the most vapid brand
Geschreven door Welf.
KINOAUTOMAT 