What constitutes a goddess? Or a good movie? Two questions that have plagued humanity since the very beginning of their respective existence. The answer is simple: you do. By the power invested in you as god of your world, to quote fellow ex-con and all-around maniac Mickey Knox, YOU declare who is a goddess and what’s a good movie. Whether or not we, other human beings out here, agree with you on your choices is another matter altogether. If we both turn out to be fair and reasonable examples of our species, we’re probably going to talk about it, at length, in written word or otherwise, until we either reach common ground or, more likely, stay with our own choices, but respectfully acknowledge yours as well. If we’re not, we may verbally bash each other’s skull in.
So, now that we’ve established that, I will now tell you… the goddess is Monica Bellucci, and the movie Malena. It was released in the year 2000 and directed by Giuseppe Tornatore; It stars My Lady Bellucci, a bunch of ugly nobodies, and it’s about a young boy, Renato (Giuseppe Sulfaro), in World War 2-Italy. This boy goes all Oedipussy over Malena (Monica Bellucci), a hot, older chick in his village. She lost her husband in the war so, naturally, she turns to whoring. The ugly nobodies in the village like to see her fall, of course, and in the end they drag her out of her house, rip her clothes off, and cut off her hair. Serves her right. Filthy whore.
But all this doesn’t really matter, because she is in it. And she gets all naked, and several times. There’s one especially glorious instance of this I would now like to share with you. We are watching this through the eyes of that young boy, who is spying on her. In this particular scene, we see Miss Bellucci taking the top of her dress off, thereby revealing her naked breasts. She then starts washing herself in a bowl of water that sits on a table. As rays of warm, ethereal light illuminate her body, we see how drops of water glisten on her angelic skin. Her hair, thick and black as ravens, flows like ever so many waterfalls. Then she takes half a lemon and starts rubbing and squeezing it, first in her neck, gently, softly… Her head is tilted slightly backwards; her eyes are closed. She takes the other half of the lemon in her other hand and starts massaging her breasts. Then her wet, glistening tummy. And finally, a firm, double squeeze — somewhere over her heart — releasing a single drop of mild acid that trails across her skin, coming to rest upon her nipple, where it radiates light like an eternal diamond…
It’s a truly magnificent scene. One of the absolute highlights of modern cinema. Such are its layered depths that scholars will still be debating its merits, furiously and with great passion, long after you, me, and everyone we know is dead. Books will be written about it. Rants, and even comments, on Instagram. And rightly so, of course. Because to me, this scene does not just depict Miss Bellucci, an impossibly beautiful woman, celebrated actress, and successful model, showing off her godlike body, no! It’s so much more! When I watch this, I see the actual goddess!
Miss Bellucci is not merely acting; she is channeling, providing a portal through which all the ancient goddesses can shine their everlasting light upon us. At this very moment, she IS Artemis; she IS Aphrodite, Selene, Helen of Troy, holy Mary, mother of god! She is the very epitome of a woman. She is a mother and a whore. An angel, and a saint. She’s a demon in the flesh and the light of your life. She is passion, fire, and vengeance. Hell knows no fury, yet her touch is heaven. She is warmth and safety. She will always protect you. She will, as long as she lives, be there for you to acknowledge that, yes, you ARE a living, breathing human being, and yes, you WILL always be welcome, here, with me, to find shelter from this bleak and forlorn world, here, in the safety of my big, warm, heaving bosom…
What’s that, you say? Miss Bellucci may be a goddess, but I am nothing more than a horny animal, every bit as ugly, if not more so, than those horrible women from the village? Who deserves NOT a place in this chaste, stuck-up, and fake-polite society of ours? Well, yes, sir, I am. And who are you?
So, to answer my original question: is this a good movie? I’ll leave the final judgment of that to you, because, frankly, I don’t care. She is in it, so I couldn’t care less about what any of you funny little ants down there think of this movie. As for the question of whether Miss Bellucci is a goddess, however, I would now like to see all of you, worshipers and acolytes, stand up, stretch your arms heavenward and answer in unison with a loud and resounding ‘YES’ — lest you wish to kill John Wick’s puppy.
So, there you have it. I, Dutchman, Lord of Nothing, have spoken. You are welcome, subjects. Now go forth and procreate.
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