Hey, night class, you know what I so did not need right now? The MOST DEPRESSING French movie in the history of the world.
Seriously, "The Widow of St. Pierre" is like fifty different types of the most excruciating heartstring torture ever. Look, I knew right off the bat that it was probably going to end badly because when it started with a woman dressed in black, "The Widow" clearly had to refer to more than just the guillotine, BUT IT DID NOT PREPARE ME FOR THE ENDING!
Ugh. I knew I should have walked out ten minutes before the end. If there hadn't been a person between me and the door, I probably would have. I wanted to walk out so I could tell myself that everything ended in rainbows and sunshine. But because I'm an idiot, I stayed. Horrible Thing #1 happened, and I REALLY should have walked out then, but I stayed in transfixed horror, frozen to my chair and still desperately willing something, anything to change at the last second. And then Horrible Thing #2 was MORE HORRIBLE than I ever imagined it could be, and by the time it ended I was like, tearful and shivering and desperately wanting a hug, chocolate, my dog, a bed to curl up and weep myself to sleep in, and possibly copious amounts of alcohol.
Aside from that, it was an amazing movie. Which is unfortunately making it really hard to concentrate on these two essays due tomorrow.