Erin McKee munches on the local short film Dinner for One.
Love is nourishing.
Dinner for One opens with a beautiful plate of spaghetti in progress, all luscious tomatoes and colourful sweet peppers and flecks of very green parsley piled high. Tendrils of heat rise from the bathtub. I mean, from the plate.
Love is intoxicating.
A man bites urgently into a round persimmon as though he were tasting flesh. There is lots of licking of fingers.
Love is also awkward as hell.
Despite all those childhood hours perhaps spent whispering to mirrors and kissing pillows, none of it prepares you for being face to face with someone you desire, much less what to say to each other the morning after a wet and steamy evening.
Dinner for One, one of two short films by Anita McGee being shown at the Women’s Film Festival this year, sweetly explores the emerging passion between two people who, perhaps formerly, believed that they had already found comfort and safety in their apartments – alone.
A friend of mine once lived in an apartment building with desperately uninsulated walls. Whenever I used to visit her, I couldn’t help but overhear the man next door singing wildly from under his shower. Until now, never did it occur to me that he was perhaps calling out to my friend like a songbird.
Much like my friend’s neighbour, Dinner for One shows us that love can be heard by any of us, if only we are willing to stop and listen.
Anita McGee’s Dinner for One is playing as part of the Ain’t No Cure for Love screening, this Saturday night at the Majestic, 9 pm.