I love Little Edie. Finally finally finally I watched Grey Gardens...(http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0073076/)
Holy crap! Now I get it. If you can get your hands on a copy, which can be difficult, sit down and enjoy. It is interesting and sad and better than any of the recently released too-slick and almost-rehersed documentaries out there. The footage is raw, the women (the Beales) featured are so stunningly original and tragic and the filmakers allow you to draw your own conclusions on them.
What struck me was how beautiful both of these women were at one time, especially Little Edie, and what a life they must have had when both were younger and had money and the future was nothing but bright and full of teas in the Hamptons with rich young men from Princeton and girls who studied at Miss Porter's. They lived in a house that was grand enough to have a name- Grey Gardens - and in a town where all houses have names. But time passes, bank accounts shrink, men leave, asses sag, hair greys, skin wrinkles, invitations dry up, friends ignore and the Edies find themselves in the 70's, seemingly mad at moments and living in that same house but in squalor. Not that squalorous conditions aren't tough all everywhere, but of all places to live in squalor, oh! the Hamptons...
There was another side of me that thought Jesus H. Christ someone should have gotten a fucking job years ago so that the house could be kept up. I'd love to sit around all day and look at the beautiful beach and dance around in a bathing suit with a sweater on my head pontificating on manners or books by Hawthorne or what I used to do back in the 30's while feeding racoons Wonder Bread in my attic BUT my company expects me at the office.
This side of me didn't stick around too long because the part of me that loved watching and listening to Little Edie and her bon mots won out.
Netflix has this movie btw...
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