Oh for fuck....
Very rarely, in fact I cant recall another example of where i read a book, or whatever, flicked my kindle screen off, and said, "Oh... the movie was so much better..." Like, who says that, right?
For those who dont know about this story...
snapshot.
Harold, psychotic, tortures his mother with his preoccupation of suicide.
His mom is wealthy, in that bloated way that Ivanka Trump acts.
The uncle is some sort of lunatic that, even though Harold's mom pushed him onto the uncle because of 'behavior' (Ie: my son is a raving headcase), a fair amount of synapses have failed to connect, and he's all 'Harold, but war... lovely war... and killing..." psycho, gun, here.
And Maud, whose '80, and waves around world views, all tinged with maturity and wisdom but somehow packaged up in a way that in clinically significant, like padded room stuff.
Harold & Maud, artisans of the macabre, meet at a funeral, a funeral for someone neither of them know. they do this a lot. its like going to starbucks.
Maud, the rambunctious elderly trickster, steals Harold's car, which of course is a hearse. Her personality, on paper, or kindle in this instance, is maddening, which is a stark contrast to Ruth Gordon's amazing efforts. Her mind seems tangled in a rather complex network of failing memories, and there's a sense that she's taking liberties on the ones she remembers, bulldozing them with nonsense.
Harold gets trapped inside her world, much like his obsession with death and suicide. And things escalate to a rather uncomfortable level, a feeling i think may have been mitigated had the author tightened up the manuscript.
His mom tries to set him up with internet dates, which Harold rebuffs with more of his antics. You may be asking yourself, 'wait, his mom sets him up on dates? isnt this like... isnt he an adult?"
Sure, but this is part of the campy factor of the entire thing. This amount of ridiculousness is permissible, and certainly acceptable, but i do wish that the character was less contrived, and that the author detoured from the obvious choices of depicting an affluent character (See: Kitty Montgomery, Darma and Greg).
And his Uncle makes appearances that end up being the essence of every annoying person i've ever met all bundled into one person.
A reviewer here said this is like a directors cut. I get that feeling as well, except for me it's like the director is talking and the movie is off. The book talks to me, but not in a visceral mind-snatching sorta way, but in an actual non-stop, your grandmother visiting you on thanksgiving, sorta way.
I didnt want to be talked to, and have to walk through a mind-field of pacing issues, or stumble over numerous times where a paragraph should have ended, or where a chapter divider should have been. I wanted to be pulled by my nostalgia straps, but all i was left with was a shaking head and a few hours of wasted time.