big fish i am definitely going to find time to read the book.

i had just finished watching the movie. we started it at past 2 a.m., so i didn't realize i'd fall asleep halfway through the film.

:spoilers ahead!:

of all the possible legends that could be mined from this version, the one about storytelling's haunted me most. after the big fish's death, friends gathered and told stories about how they remember him. director tim burton could have chosen a cacauphony of voices competing for dominance, but instead he had music absolve all differences and attentive, peaceful countenances tell the epilogues, tributes, post scripts, afterthoughts.

there's an old saying that it's the stories we tell, the stories around us, the stories of us, passed along from person to person, lived through us all, that makes us immortal.

people spend their whole lives looking for something to live for. the big fish lived to tell stories. he didn't care if people didn't like them, so long as he told them the way he knew how. the movie doesn't say whether, at the end of his life, if he had any more new stories to tell - just that he had one last one.

one last one he told with his son, who put his own spin on the tale. the big fish had to interject about how his friend the giant pushed cars away so his red charger could cut through town and arrive at the river faster. it was, after all, still his story.

later when the big fish swam away, a little fish at his grandfather's swimming pool started spinning stories of his own.   ¶ 7/05/2004 04:42:00 AM