John McClane has just landed in L.A. to visit his estranged wife in her office in the Nakatomi Plaza. He sponge bathes the airport off his body while Holly casually chats and occasionally fidgets. The shared space of body and bathroom is a quintessential aspect of most marriages. For never having been in her office before he seems at home, more because of her presence and less because of the carpet crushed therapeutically between his toes. Their conversation is cozy and warming its way towards John staying at her house instead of with an old buddy over an hour away.
You've almost redeemed Eyes Wide Shut to me, that's some momentous writing. I wish I saw the movie you did.
damn, this hit!!: “how artificial we can appear to be even in front of the person who knows us best”
Everything about this is fucking brilliant. (Double meaning intended.) Masterpiece.