What if stars are miracles left by people when they die and we wish on the love of those who have gone before with heaven’s wishing love miracle? What if every person has a miracle inside them but also is a miracle in and of themselves? What if a horse was actually a dog?
The fact this movie exists makes me kind of sad.
Around 20 years ago I read the novel it is based on. It is this incredibly lush, epic, almost magical-realist fantasy about the gangs, locales and other subcultures of NYC, the surrounding area, and upstate New York over a large swath of time. Things in the book that didn’t make complete rational sense still had a sort of dream logic rightness to them.
But even at the time I read it though, I remember thinking, “I love this book, but there’s no way they could capture the feel of it in a movie.” And, lo, it came to pass that I was right unfortunately.