Lessons from Frida

Drama, drama, drama. You’d think with all the meds available today, it would be the advent of a Gattaca-like society. No more sentiments to inspire insipid soaps, no more emotions to compel one to drink up to Fitzgerald (or Diana Ross) standards and no more emotions to make you buy that one lipstick or shoe that you don’t really need. The world is full of delilahs and escape is supposedly within your reach with a pastel-colored pill. But really if you do a popper, all you really feel is numbness (believe me I’ve been a Nancy Reagan in the recent past, I know what I’m talking about) and perhaps capped off with a 12-step program.

In Jean Luc Godard’s seminal film Breathless, Patricia asks her sexy vagabond lover Michel what he would rather have – grief or nothing? A true citizen of the sedated civilization, he replies nothing – it is not much better but at least it’s not a compromise like grief. A stunning example of the emotionally-challenged generation that we are. In the event of a financial breakdown or Byronic disaster, we all run to Mr. Charge-by-the-Hour (therapist or otherwise) in the hopes that he or she may krazy glue our fragile selves back to its destructive and dependent forms. We are a generation so afraid of grief, when it is only as natural as happiness.

This is why I adore Frida, the Miramax movie about the tortured Mexican rose directed by Julie Taymor.

Nothing commands the bored and jaded mind quite like a sexually adventurous, chain-smoking, booze soaked, tragic it-girl that manages to make a unibrow as sexy as Cindy Crawford’s mole. Frida Kahlo is an extraordinary woman who manages to make even her personal tragedies into compelling pieces of art. Such a tremendous personality that her legend is composed not only for her surrealist masterpieces, but is also well-remembered for her naughty ways that make Drew Barrymore seem like a kitten.

Frida led a life more harmed than charmed. Although she comes from a warm and loving family, she is besieged by tragedy after tragedy that ultimately forms her flawless character. She is crushed in a trolley accident that leaves her partially crippled for the rest of her life. She then gets her first taste of heartbreak as the guy who pops her cherry skips town to go to Europe (sounds familiar?) as she lies in her bed in casts. Refusing to look like King Tut she then decides to while away her hours drawing butterflies that later progress to becoming portraits and illustrations of her dreams. Like in any drama that celebrates the resilience of the human spirit, Frida defies the limitations of medicine and walks!

Oh and where that walk led her. She meets up with the uber-artist of her time in Mexico Diego Rivera, a skirt-chasing muralist and national artist. From Spanish flies to innocent hacienda hotties to good ol’ friends (read: old flings) no one is spared by Diego’s raging hormones. She marries Diego naively thinking that she can take his horizontally-inclined addictiveness but alas the delilah culminates with him banging her sister. But she comes out still victorious and perhaps a little tipsy. Plus a Vogue cover to boot.

Lessons learned (a teaser to make you watch the film if you still have not seen it):

• Jerks come in all shapes and sizes. Diego Rivera was no GQ man and yet he had the charisma of Hugh Hefner. I used to think that only good-looking men and those who drove sports cars were the only ones worthy of the danger sign. But through empirical experience, never let an ugly face fool you! Ugly does not equal loving as we so guilelessly presuppose.

• It’s OK to cry, but when you do make sure you look very fight. A strange thing about our generation is that we seem to think it’s passé to cry. Is it the mascara? The rising cost of Kleenex? Tammy Faye Baker? Why is it that after someone finds a relationship going sour or maybe even losing a loved one, staying dry-eyed is a sign of strength? There’s something unnatural about this sterile reaction. I’ve always believed that the pots and pans banging within me should always resonate in my reactions. Although I think I go too far by crying to strangers (more to cry about). Yet in the end, I believe that surrendering to my grief feeds into my passionate nature. But never forget waterproof mascara during and lots of eye lift after the tragedy (Chanel makes a killer one!).

• Lessons in infidelity. In today’s legal jungle, even if you’re not married breaking-up can be hard to do. But that’s no excuse if you’re getting more love from the bottle than your man. Relationships and how they run is a purely relative thing. There are times I have seen men stray from the white picket fence of monogamy one too many times, and yet see that the couple is still better together than not. It is not for an outsider to judge whether a woman is being a martyr without a cause or simply someone who sees the value of her love outside the deceptive web of pride. However, when the emotional abuse turns you into a paranoid, cell phone inbox hunter, it’s time to think twice.

• If you’re not Frida Kahlo you must pluck. I mean at least just burn the bridge (in between your eyes) if you have it.

• You are allowed to have a heartbreak boozefest. Although if the festival continues on a daily basis, you must reconsider your drama.

• Staying friends with his ex will give priceless info – no more googling your boyfriend! Ah the 1-900 of your dreams. Unlock your lover’s Pandora’s Box! Ex-girlfriends give the best score, but be wary of who benefits from this download (you or her!).

• You can never change a man. Oh, you think you’re special. Oh, and you think you’re hot. But a dog will always be a dog. If you think that your clever ways will curb a horndog’s roving eye, then you are barking up the wrong tree!

• Sisterly love gone wrong. My friend Chut once said that nothing breaks a friendship between men like a woman. Men’s friendships are generally as solid as concrete, but all it takes is some woman and her whining to make it all go to hell. I have heard many great relationships and friendships hit the shredding machine because of some irresponsible transfer of energy (read: permutation). And so although it’s not advisable to be a suspicious wreck all the time, all those girlfriends who are a little too close for comfort should be put in their corners.

• Campsite affairs lead to disasters. If a relationship is a secret then there is a humongous chance that it will lead to massive implosion and a lot of cheap gin afterwards. Having that affair is so much frolicking fun I know, but if you’re after the real deal, know that if you have to tip toe to get out of the door, it’s prudent to get out.

• When it’s your moment, shine. Frida may have been on her deathbed, but it was her moment and she was certainly there for her toast for her first Mexican exhibit chugging her final shot of tequila. Truly the original never-say-die girl!