Hank Chinaski

I watched this film completely by accident last night on arte.tv.
The main character is Hank Chinaski, played by Matt Dillon, and the film is called Factotum (2005). It was a bit difficult for me to finish the film, because Hank is such an anti-hero, wasting his life away in whatever possible ways (not that extreme, actually). However, it is the charisma of Matt Dillon, who played this character with profoundness, dignity and coolness, that keeps me from leaving.

It was a good film. What distracts me, or what is pushing me away, is the kind of life style I brought to despise: drinking, messing up every single job, not having a job, messing up relationships...however, I have always been interested in 'fucked-up people's' lives, and somehow because of my lately weird mood, I begin to see some sincerity in this film: of his anger, of his disappointment, of his rebel against this, for a lot of people who are labeled as 'unfortunate', ridiculous world. It is not fair, and it will never be fair. Some people just do not have it. And they still need to live on.

There was a scene when Hank was with Jan (his time-to-time girlfriend) in the kitchen in her empty apartment. (paraphrasing)

Jan said: 'Do you want some pancake, babe? Let's have some wine to go with it.'
Hank said: 'Sure. '
Jan opened her empty fridge and took out a big bowl of pancake mix, and said: 'We are still out of butter.'
Hank said: 'Make them anyway, babe.'
Jan: 'They sure are gonna be crispy, I tell you.'
Then Hank took up a huge bottle of 'red wine', and poured in two glasses.

Maybe I just have not been poor. Maybe I am just overacting. But his or their lives are unbelievable to me: having no food to eat, no jobs, nowhere to live (Hank got rejected for jobs because he does not have an address), no one to love (but always money to drink!) seems like a total nightmare. But they still live on, and enjoy it from time to time (The couple fucks 4 times a day, pardon for my language, it is just how it is put in the film). Their lives are their bodies and what they can do for themselves. The society expelled them. They have to take care of each other, or to hurt each other. It is their own world. They are truly free, and utterly seul. He lives for nothing, but to fight on.

The sound of the titles of Charles Bukowski's poems and short stories sounds cynical and crispy, like Sifting through the Madness for The World, The Line, The Way, The Pleasures of the Damned, and Crucifix in a Deathhand. I like the sound of it. In his gravestone, it reads: Don't Try.

I also want to write a bit about the relation of ones relationship with ones parents and the likelihood of going away from homeland for a new life. I just talked to a friend yesterday. I always knew I was more driven to go to a new place and leave everything behind because I don't want to stay with my father. However, it became clearer to me these days that it was the reason that why I am here, because it also makes me crave for the unknown and fantasize about everything that is foreign. I dislike life at home as much as I dislike him and as much as I wish to go away.

Go Away--these two words lift up all the burdens and unhappy memories and although I must have over-reacted in many ways, this is exactly what I did and it is why I did it.