We saw Revolutionary Road this weekend. Though it was an excellent film -- acting, locale, sets, costumes were all wonderful and perfect for the time -- I found it very disturbing. And, not because it was the story of a very unhappy marriage. Here's why:
She looked toward him
from the counter
and offered him a glass of orange juice
She was fully dressed in blouse and skirt
and little wedgie shoes,
Her makeup was perfect
Her long blonde hair just so.
She then invited him to sit down
at the table.
“Scrambled or fried eggs?” she asked
He said whatever is easier, scrambled
probably, and unbuttoning
his suit jacket sat down,
looking at her all the while.
She stood at the sink scrambling and
when the eggs were cooked
she sat down
opposite him and they ate.
Not much talking, mostly eating, and looking
closely at each other’s eyes.
He got up to go.
“That’s the best breakfast you ever made
for me,” he said.
And before he left, he asked her
if she was still mad
at him from the night before.
They had yelled at each other
and showed so much hate
that she ran off into the woods
beyond their yard.
“Leave me alone,” she screamed,
“I need to think,” and he went to bed
But this morning there was complete calm.
Her eyes clear, her face luminous,
showing none of last night’s horrific pain.
She had the look that said
she had found her
peace. And, it didn’t include him.
I saw that look once before
on my son’s face, the night before
he took his own life.
So I knew what was coming.
It was eerie to be so certain
where this story
As she said, “No, I don’t hate you,” she took
his face in her hands
and smiled slightly.
She then walked him
to the door and stood there
until he drove away.
She turned and went inside.
That was the last time
he would see her alive.