The movie, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, is described as being about this: "British retirees travel to India to take up residence in what they believe is a newly restored hotel. Less luxurious than advertised, the Marigold Hotel nevertheless slowly begins to charm in unexpected ways."
To me, the movie is about people who are my age – 60-plus – who have had to find new ways of carrying on with their lives. Some have suffered loss of a spouse, as I have. Others have had situations happen to them which have forced them to consider where they will live and how they will live comfortably. Some are simply looking to keep on living, with gusto.
The movie spoke to me on many levels. I loved the characters. They're real - sharp-witted, somewhat cranky, oddball, honest, brave, intelligent, lovable, or some combination of those traits. I loved the main actors – who doesn't love Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, and Bill Nighy?
But most of all, I appreciated the wisdom in the writing. I won't spoil the storyline for you, but kudos to Deborah Moggach, who wrote the novel (I must buy the book now!), and Ol Parker, who wrote the screenplay. Well done.
I accidentally watched “The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel” last week and I enjoyed it a lot. Then my children, who are often wiser than I about these things, informed me that the first one was very good as well.
“What? There is a first one?”
So I spent more than two very enjoyable hours last night ... err... early this morning, since those are the hours one keeps after the death of a spouse ... watching and loving every minute of the first Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.
It led me to have a good night’s sleep for only the second time in the almost four weeks since my husband, Al, died.
The movie gave me a few smiles, some clever dialogue, and some strong, relatable characters with real-life problems and solutions. Most importantly, the movie gave me a sense of peace and more courage to carry on. It helped reinforce the knowledge that there is more for me around the corner. I will heal eventually. I will never be the same. I will always carry Al with me in my heart and in everything I do, but I will be able to do new things, have new experiences, and feel happiness again – eventually. Hopefully.