9.4/ 10stars
Ordinary Love ?dual audio?
*
WATCH
Average rating - 8 of 10 star / &ref(https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BODIwNDVlODEtMGIxNC00OGQ4LTgzMmUtNmI4MjJhYjU3MDJjXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNDY2MjcyOTQ@._V1_UX182_CR0,0,182,268_AL_.jpg) / David Wilmot / Creator - Owen McCafferty / countries - UK / Synopsis - Ordinary Love is a movie starring Liam Neeson, Lesley Manville, and Amit Shah. An extraordinary look at the lives of a middle-aged couple in the midst of the wife's breast cancer diagnosis.
Happy birthday 61st ? Sade and Aaliyah in Paradise, January 16th 2020. Sade is my all time fav singer. I usually don't like people messing with her songs. This is not one of those times. WOW. I've never heard the edge sing. he's great. and this song as well. When you can take a artist's beat and make it your beat. joey has the best quotables in the game.
Movie Normal people en 5 clics.
This was filmed back in the 90's when Puerto Rico used to still be a booming economy; the Normandie hotel in all its glory. Great job Sade. The best voice of UK. Movie like normal people. Ordinary Love is a really surprising film. It's by no means a perfect film but it is a really enjoyable film with emotion done well without feeling too over the top especially for a cancer film.
3:07 I like how Bono is mad at the drummer. Movie Normal. Very clever. Bravo. O f all the praise lavished on Sally Rooney’s first novel, Conversations with Friends ? that it was glittering, witty, addictive, elegant, heartbreaking ? only the insistence that it was especially contemporary, and “could sit with Lena Dunham’s Girls ”, as the Sunday Times put it, didn’t seem entirely applicable. True, the author was only 26; yes, the story took place in an Ireland where Catholicism no longer mattered, and everyone was a digital native; and the narrator, Frances, was a new graduate who started the book in a modishly fluid friendship/relationship with the avowedly lesbian and definitely woke Bobbi. But the instant messages were used to produce something like Platonic dialogues; email functioned, like Victorian letters, to consider the workings of the heart; time was marked by the publishing of novels and the passage of the seasons rather than the irruptions of news; and Frances was not only diagnosed with endometriosis without ever googling Lena Dunham but very soon abandoned her never specified relationship with Bobbi for an all-absorbing affair with an older married man, Nick. The resulting doomed romance appeared closer to Rosamond Lehmann ’s novel The Weather in the Streets (1936) or Barbara Trapido ’s Brother of the More Famous Jack (1982) than to chilly contemporary autofiction or?modish surrealism. There was the scant plot of these earlier classics, the romanticised, aphorising characters, the shamelessly beautiful sentences and exquisite, precisely considered suffering. There was even the calamitous female physicality, with Frances’s bloody struggles with endometriosis reminiscent of Lehmann’s portrayal of abortion or Trapido’s of birth; and, underneath the relentless irony of the dialogue, Frances’s haunting innocence and yearning, her distinctly pre-feminist sense of a lack of entitlement to love, which is perhaps much more like Lehmann’s Invitation to the Waltz than Girls. Above, all there was an engaged, questing subjectivity and an underlying faith in fiction itself, which seemed modernist rather than contemporary. Frances’s pain and striving are leading us somewhere: Frances is discovering her singular self and becoming a writer ? and this, Rooney’s passionate creation tells us, is worthwhile. Normal People, written in barely a year since that debut, is set mainly in the same shadowy, smoky, studenty Dublin, has the same witty dialogue and delicately observed play of often anxious feeling, and the same interludes of startlingly graphic, passionately intimate sex. It, too, is astonishingly fresh: in fact, when these books are shelved together in the future, it may seem that Normal People is the earlier work. It’s a slightly smaller book, for a start. Conversations with Friends at least aspired to be a quadrille, including Bobbi and Nick’s formidable wife Melissa in the dance, along with memorable turns from Frances’s troubled parents. Normal People, by contrast, is a?waltz, or?possibly a tango, with two protagonists only:?Marianne, a skinny, anxious, clever girl, like Frances but with even less self-esteem and more masochistic tendencies, who begins the book as a?social outcast reading Swann’s Way in the school lunch hall in Galway, and Connell, the apparently secure and popular working-class star of the football?team. Sally Rooney’s first novel, Conversations with Friends, was a doomed romance. Photograph: Patrick Bolger/The Guardian The spotlight is the brighter on these two because everyone else is just a little darker and more blurred than in Conversations with Friends. The couple’s friends are not only more distant than Bobbi, but more cliched, absorbed in teenage intrigues about dances, committees and a slightly disconnected subplot with a death and funeral that recall Heathers or The Big Chill rather than life or books. The villains of the story are well drawn and thoroughly contemporary ? the boyfriend with the sly taste for porn; the?sexist bully in a nightclub; an artist who exploits young women on?the internet ? but they also each disappear within a?chapter or two, either without action from the protagonists, or even, in the case of the sinister artist, on request. Their families, too, have taken a step towards the vague and gothic. Connell’s mother Lorraine comes, we are told, from a criminal family and had him at 17:?but this does not seem to have left her with any unsatisfied adult desires or even awkward acquaintances. Rather, she is consistently kind, selfless and wise, the “good mother” counterpart to Marianne’s widowed parent, who is?cold, neglectful and encourages her brother’s violent bullying. But Denise is so vaguely drawn,?it seems even Marianne cannot be bothered to explain why. After an outrageous cruelty?on her?part, the?two?mothers and Marianne?directly encounter each other: They saw Marianne’s mother in the supermarket. She was wearing a dark suit with a yellow silk blouse. She always looked so ‘put together’. Lorraine said hello politely and Denise just walked past, not speaking, eyes ahead. No one knew what she believed her grievance was. Even the differences of class and social ease between Connell and Marianne seem to dissolve as the book progresses. Connell goes to Trinity College Dublin alongside Marianne, who is now a social swan, and he?never thinks of football again. The energy and excitement of the story, then, must come from the couple themselves, their inner lives, what they see and imagine and read; from what Jane Austen called their “sensibilities”. Fortunately, they have a lot of these, and Rooney evokes them superbly. Connell turns out to be quite a lot like Frances, too, and it is he, not Marianne, who is to be the writer. He may be defensive about this: It feels intellectually unserious to concern himself?with fictional people marrying each other. But there it is: literature moves him. One of his professors calls it the pleasure of being touched by?great art. And, whatever the reality or otherwise of the dangers?around them, however many times they?have absurd quarrels or, conversely, seem to meld and share an identity, that pleasure, of being touched?by great art, is to be had in reading the story?of Connell and Marianne, just because Rooney is such a?gifted, brave, adventurous writer, so exceptionally good at observing the lies people tell themselves on the deepest level, in noting how?much we forgive, and above all in portraying love. She shows the way it works on the skin ? “The intensity of the privacy between them is?very severe, pressing in on him with an almost physical pressure on his face and body” ? and?the mind: He and Marianne are like figure-skaters, improvising their discussions so adeptly and in such perfect synchronisation that it surprises them both. Connell leaves the library “in a state of strange emotional agitation” when he has to break off from reading Jane Austen’s Emma, and we feel the same way when he fails to explain properly to Marianne why he needs to spend the summer elsewhere, or when Marianne involves herself with a man she does?not even like. Connell does not look up the ending of Emma on his phone, as surely most young people would, or even make a quip about the film Clueless, and we don’t want him to, because his mind is more exciting than that. Normal People may not be?about being young right?now, but better than that, it shows?what it is to?be young and in love at any time.?It?may not be absolutely contemporary, but it is?a future classic. ? Kate Clanchy’s The Not-Dead and the Saved is published by Picador. Normal People is published by Faber. To order a copy for £9. 99 (RRP £14. 99) go to or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1. 99.
Ordinary Love ?dual audio? 
WATCH
- Columnist Nashville Scene
- Bio: Free. Thinking.
Average rating - 8 of 10 star / &ref(https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BODIwNDVlODEtMGIxNC00OGQ4LTgzMmUtNmI4MjJhYjU3MDJjXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyNDY2MjcyOTQ@._V1_UX182_CR0,0,182,268_AL_.jpg) / David Wilmot / Creator - Owen McCafferty / countries - UK / Synopsis - Ordinary Love is a movie starring Liam Neeson, Lesley Manville, and Amit Shah. An extraordinary look at the lives of a middle-aged couple in the midst of the wife's breast cancer diagnosis.
My friend and I drove in her convertible along the Cape Town coastline at sunset blasting this song out the stereo. Epic. Movie Normal people en 5. There is nothing alive as enchanting and mysterious as my beloved Helen Sade Adu. Movie Normal people with bad.Who is still listing to this perfect music. steel december 2019. December 21 is my birthday. pls like me. Movie Normal people.
Movie Normal urielles. Just imagine with a good wine and next to you, your love, listening good music. Movie Normal peoples. Movie Normal people magazine.Movie clip of like normal people. Movie normal people. Such heaps of praise have piled up for Irish writer Sally Rooney, there's a danger of suffocation from avalanching expectations. At 28, the Trinity College Dublin graduate has published two novels, Conversations with Friends (2017) and Normal People, both to the sort of excitement that more typically greets new hand-held electronic devices. I'm happy to report that Rooney's novels are exciting hand-held devices ? new books that bring a 21st century perspective on insecurity to the coming-of-age narrative. Normal People is a compulsive, psychologically astute will-they-or-won't-they love story involving two of the most sympathetic people you're liable to meet between covers. Although hailed as a voice of millennials, Rooney offers plenty to appeal to readers across genders and generations. Marianne Sheridan and Connell Waldron meet as teens in County Sligo, Ireland. Both are star students, but Marianne is an outcast raised in material wealth and emotional poverty by her widowed mother, a lawyer who apparently deems aggressive behavior from men ? including her abusive late husband and nasty son ? acceptable. Lower-middle-class Connell lives way across town with his unwed mother, who had him in her teens and works as a cleaning woman for the Sheridans. Ironically, Connell has been better nurtured by this wonderful woman, whose education was derailed by his birth. Marianne and Connell fall into an intense, complicated relationship that's repeatedly muddled by secrecy, miscommunications, and anxiety about their place in the social hierarchy. Rooney's novel tracks them closely over four years, between 2011 and 2015. In high school, Connell worries about eroding his social standing if his association with unpopular Marianne becomes known. At Trinity College Dublin, both Marianne and Connell are considered "culchies" ? hicks ? but her social star rises, while he attains "the status of rich-adjacent" only through his connection with her. Normal People shares many similarities with Conversations with Friends, which is narrated by a young woman whose initiation into adulthood involves a troubled adulterous affair that impinges on her closest friendship and is further exacerbated by a painful physical condition (endometriosis). She feels ? like Marianne and Connell in Normal People -- that she deserves to suffer. But in her second novel, Rooney demonstrates that she is gender blind when it comes to insecurities. Normal People's third person narrative, which alternates convincingly between Marianne's and Connell's points of view, wryly underscores the gap between their perspectives, even at the best of times. The novel also deftly yo-yos between periods of deep communion (with beautifully wrought sex) followed by painful misunderstandings that compound her characters' insecurities. "I don't know why I can't be like normal people... I don't know why I can't make people love me, " Marianne says, well into their on-again-off-again relationship, after confessing that she never told Connell about her miserable home life because she was afraid he would think she was "damaged or something. " Quickly switching perspectives, Rooney writes, "But he always thought she was damaged, he thought it anyway. He screws his eyes shut with guilt. " Among Rooney's abiding concerns are the fluctuating power dynamics in relationships. Issues of class, privilege, passivity, submission, emotional and physical pain, kindness, and depression all come into play. Her focus is on young adults as they struggle to navigate the minefields of intimacy against the backdrop of an economically uncertain, post-recession world threatened by climate change, political upheaval, and questions about the morality and viability of capitalism. Rooney's characters may be academically gifted, but they aren't sure how they want to live or what they want to do with their lives. In response to emotional injury, they sometimes seek physical pain. When overwhelmed, they detach. A crippling sense of unworthiness chafes against feelings of intellectual superiority. Rooney's dialogue, like her descriptive prose, is slyly ironic, alternately evasive and direct, but always articulate. It cuts to the heart. She seems remarkably comfortable writing about sex ? even uncomfortable sex ? and she seamlessly integrates well-crafted texts, emails, and Facebook posts into her narratives like the digital native she is. Yet while Rooney may write about apparent aimlessness and all the distractions of our age, her novels are laser-focused and word-perfect. They build power by a steady accretion of often simple declarative sentences that track minuscule shifts in feelings. At one point, Connell reflects on the serendipity of his connection with Marianne: "At times he has the sensation that he and Marianne are like figure-skaters, improvising their discussions so adeptly and in such perfect synchronisation that it surprises them both. She tosses herself gracefully into the air, and each time, without knowing how he's going to do it, he catches her. " It's a lovely image that also captures the graceful feat that Rooney pulls off in this novel. Although frequently heartbreaking, Normal People isn't bleak. The brave determination of Rooney's characters to reach out and try to catch each other with no guarantee of success ? and to open themselves to "moments of joy despite everything" ? is ultimately hopeful.
Happy birthday 61st ? Sade and Aaliyah in Paradise, January 16th 2020. Sade is my all time fav singer. I usually don't like people messing with her songs. This is not one of those times. WOW. I've never heard the edge sing. he's great. and this song as well. When you can take a artist's beat and make it your beat. joey has the best quotables in the game.
Movie Normal people en 5 clics.
This was filmed back in the 90's when Puerto Rico used to still be a booming economy; the Normandie hotel in all its glory. Great job Sade. The best voice of UK. Movie like normal people. Ordinary Love is a really surprising film. It's by no means a perfect film but it is a really enjoyable film with emotion done well without feeling too over the top especially for a cancer film.
Liam Neeson and Lesley Manville are really great here. They really do carry this film. Since it is primarily focused on these two characters and pretty much no one else. Liam Neeson is really great here and it makes me wonder why he hasn't done more action films. Overall it's a very simple told very effectively. It does have a lot emotion and it really does work especially the ending. But it's definitely worth watching.One Of My Favorite Songs????. This is almost a fly-on-the-wall style telling of how an ordinary couple discover and come to terms with one of them having cancer. It is told in an intimate but not sentimental way, and is really quite touching. Owen McCafferty's script uses humour, sex, pathos, occasional anger, and a relationship with another couple in a similar (though more terminal) situation to help convey the deep senses of frustration, helplessness and hope as they go through the testing and treatment procedures. Liam Neeson plays his part well; though the script doesn't give him too much to work with. Lesley Manville is superb, though - really very convincing; she elicits sympathy by the bucketful. It doesn't pull it's punches so be prepared for a tough watch at times.
3:07 I like how Bono is mad at the drummer. Movie Normal. Very clever. Bravo. O f all the praise lavished on Sally Rooney’s first novel, Conversations with Friends ? that it was glittering, witty, addictive, elegant, heartbreaking ? only the insistence that it was especially contemporary, and “could sit with Lena Dunham’s Girls ”, as the Sunday Times put it, didn’t seem entirely applicable. True, the author was only 26; yes, the story took place in an Ireland where Catholicism no longer mattered, and everyone was a digital native; and the narrator, Frances, was a new graduate who started the book in a modishly fluid friendship/relationship with the avowedly lesbian and definitely woke Bobbi. But the instant messages were used to produce something like Platonic dialogues; email functioned, like Victorian letters, to consider the workings of the heart; time was marked by the publishing of novels and the passage of the seasons rather than the irruptions of news; and Frances was not only diagnosed with endometriosis without ever googling Lena Dunham but very soon abandoned her never specified relationship with Bobbi for an all-absorbing affair with an older married man, Nick. The resulting doomed romance appeared closer to Rosamond Lehmann ’s novel The Weather in the Streets (1936) or Barbara Trapido ’s Brother of the More Famous Jack (1982) than to chilly contemporary autofiction or?modish surrealism. There was the scant plot of these earlier classics, the romanticised, aphorising characters, the shamelessly beautiful sentences and exquisite, precisely considered suffering. There was even the calamitous female physicality, with Frances’s bloody struggles with endometriosis reminiscent of Lehmann’s portrayal of abortion or Trapido’s of birth; and, underneath the relentless irony of the dialogue, Frances’s haunting innocence and yearning, her distinctly pre-feminist sense of a lack of entitlement to love, which is perhaps much more like Lehmann’s Invitation to the Waltz than Girls. Above, all there was an engaged, questing subjectivity and an underlying faith in fiction itself, which seemed modernist rather than contemporary. Frances’s pain and striving are leading us somewhere: Frances is discovering her singular self and becoming a writer ? and this, Rooney’s passionate creation tells us, is worthwhile. Normal People, written in barely a year since that debut, is set mainly in the same shadowy, smoky, studenty Dublin, has the same witty dialogue and delicately observed play of often anxious feeling, and the same interludes of startlingly graphic, passionately intimate sex. It, too, is astonishingly fresh: in fact, when these books are shelved together in the future, it may seem that Normal People is the earlier work. It’s a slightly smaller book, for a start. Conversations with Friends at least aspired to be a quadrille, including Bobbi and Nick’s formidable wife Melissa in the dance, along with memorable turns from Frances’s troubled parents. Normal People, by contrast, is a?waltz, or?possibly a tango, with two protagonists only:?Marianne, a skinny, anxious, clever girl, like Frances but with even less self-esteem and more masochistic tendencies, who begins the book as a?social outcast reading Swann’s Way in the school lunch hall in Galway, and Connell, the apparently secure and popular working-class star of the football?team. Sally Rooney’s first novel, Conversations with Friends, was a doomed romance. Photograph: Patrick Bolger/The Guardian The spotlight is the brighter on these two because everyone else is just a little darker and more blurred than in Conversations with Friends. The couple’s friends are not only more distant than Bobbi, but more cliched, absorbed in teenage intrigues about dances, committees and a slightly disconnected subplot with a death and funeral that recall Heathers or The Big Chill rather than life or books. The villains of the story are well drawn and thoroughly contemporary ? the boyfriend with the sly taste for porn; the?sexist bully in a nightclub; an artist who exploits young women on?the internet ? but they also each disappear within a?chapter or two, either without action from the protagonists, or even, in the case of the sinister artist, on request. Their families, too, have taken a step towards the vague and gothic. Connell’s mother Lorraine comes, we are told, from a criminal family and had him at 17:?but this does not seem to have left her with any unsatisfied adult desires or even awkward acquaintances. Rather, she is consistently kind, selfless and wise, the “good mother” counterpart to Marianne’s widowed parent, who is?cold, neglectful and encourages her brother’s violent bullying. But Denise is so vaguely drawn,?it seems even Marianne cannot be bothered to explain why. After an outrageous cruelty?on her?part, the?two?mothers and Marianne?directly encounter each other: They saw Marianne’s mother in the supermarket. She was wearing a dark suit with a yellow silk blouse. She always looked so ‘put together’. Lorraine said hello politely and Denise just walked past, not speaking, eyes ahead. No one knew what she believed her grievance was. Even the differences of class and social ease between Connell and Marianne seem to dissolve as the book progresses. Connell goes to Trinity College Dublin alongside Marianne, who is now a social swan, and he?never thinks of football again. The energy and excitement of the story, then, must come from the couple themselves, their inner lives, what they see and imagine and read; from what Jane Austen called their “sensibilities”. Fortunately, they have a lot of these, and Rooney evokes them superbly. Connell turns out to be quite a lot like Frances, too, and it is he, not Marianne, who is to be the writer. He may be defensive about this: It feels intellectually unserious to concern himself?with fictional people marrying each other. But there it is: literature moves him. One of his professors calls it the pleasure of being touched by?great art. And, whatever the reality or otherwise of the dangers?around them, however many times they?have absurd quarrels or, conversely, seem to meld and share an identity, that pleasure, of being touched?by great art, is to be had in reading the story?of Connell and Marianne, just because Rooney is such a?gifted, brave, adventurous writer, so exceptionally good at observing the lies people tell themselves on the deepest level, in noting how?much we forgive, and above all in portraying love. She shows the way it works on the skin ? “The intensity of the privacy between them is?very severe, pressing in on him with an almost physical pressure on his face and body” ? and?the mind: He and Marianne are like figure-skaters, improvising their discussions so adeptly and in such perfect synchronisation that it surprises them both. Connell leaves the library “in a state of strange emotional agitation” when he has to break off from reading Jane Austen’s Emma, and we feel the same way when he fails to explain properly to Marianne why he needs to spend the summer elsewhere, or when Marianne involves herself with a man she does?not even like. Connell does not look up the ending of Emma on his phone, as surely most young people would, or even make a quip about the film Clueless, and we don’t want him to, because his mind is more exciting than that. Normal People may not be?about being young right?now, but better than that, it shows?what it is to?be young and in love at any time.?It?may not be absolutely contemporary, but it is?a future classic. ? Kate Clanchy’s The Not-Dead and the Saved is published by Picador. Normal People is published by Faber. To order a copy for £9. 99 (RRP £14. 99) go to or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1. 99.
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