Are you talking to me?

It had been months since the last time I watched a movie. When you consider films events, you understand they require a certain state of mind. You would't want to go to the opera with an accute migraine, or attend a baby shower in the middle of an existential crisis, right? But after a long time avoiding violence and sorrow on the screen I weirdly found myself sitting in the dark in front of Taxi Driver. I could have watched some other film... never mind, I had to start somewhere.

It's hard to tell how I'd have read the main character had I seen the film one year ago.  I wouldn't have paid so much attention to how carelessly he sat in coffee shops, that's for sure. Of course he would have still been... what he is, but perhaps one year ago I wouldn't have felt pity for Travis. Travis was - among many other terrible things - pretty isolated. 

'Isolated' according to Merrian Webster's dictionary means 'ocurring alone'. Google says it also means 'having minimal contact or little in common with others'. But I like the first definition better. I like the idea of he being a lonesome event, in a way like a movie, like a DVD movie.

So Travis: Travis lives in a world he barely engages with. He has a job and rents a room in New York City, he probably knows the city very well, and as I said before he is free to enter coffee shops - even cinemas - without having to fear for his life. He's a good observer, writes to his parents from time to time and doesn't give a damn about politics. So far Travis doesn't sound so bad. The problem - among many other terrible things - is he doesn't really participate in any of that. He is there, but he is not, perhaps because he doesn't know how.

To be a part of something implies a lot more than what one might think. First you have to 'get it', you have to understand the system, the codes enough to operate within it. For example, I don't know how to drive, so if I had to join the motorway, I'd quickly call everyone's attention - among many other terrible things. Think about my cat now: if he had to go to the wild and be a part of a wolf's pack, he just wouldn't get the point of the pack. He'd still want food and love like everyone else, but he wouldn't understand why following the alpha male was preferable to following a fly. Travis wants food and love, and he kind of manages with the first, but the second... I'm afraid the second requires some belonging; he can't be happening alone.

There's this scene in the movie where apparently Travis looks at the mirror and rehearses some interactions. A bit like pulling faces before taking a picture to post online, but with words and just a mirror. I say "apparently" because I missed that scene. I can't tell what really happened, but it's gone. I watched my first film in months, a classic, and I can't even recollect its most notorious scene, De Niro's iconic line 'Are you talking to me?' Nothing, as if it never happend. There was definitely a reason for which - among many other terrible things - I hadn't seen movies in so long.