Word: handkerchiefs
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...first scene of “The Yellow Handkerchief,” the viewer is introduced to Brett Hanson (William Hurt), a middle-aged oilrig worker affecting a rougher Dr. Phil, recently released from prison and heading to the local convenience store for a beer. A minute or two later, he meets up with a heartbroken young woman (Kristen Stewart of “Twilight” fame) and an odd, lanky teenage boy from California (Eddie Redmayne) who is pursuing her. Chance unites the three in a single car crossing a river by ferry, and when the ferry?...
...Yellow Handkerchief is one of those small movies that seems to have a great deal going against it - implausibility of action, a contrived caginess and a dangerous need to be regionally evocative - but somehow manages to win you over, sucking you into its peculiar mood...
...time she spends with Brett and Gordy. Or at least she's learned to voice the truth. On paper that might have made me scoff - Martine is such a sketch of the bad girl in need - but Hurt and Redmayne sold me on the notion. As for the yellow handkerchief of the title, I'd have dismissed it as a cheesy device if it weren't for the fact that I'm still cherishing the eloquence of Hurt's silent marvel when he finally sees it, fluttering across the gray Southern...
Elling, a lounge lizard with a pink pocket handkerchief and slicked-back hair, unquestionably played the role of entertainer and host throughout the night. He makes a point of arranging poems to transcribed musical improvisations, and he did not disappoint with a version of Robert Pinsky’s “The Broken City” set to Wayne Shorter’s haunting “They Speak No Evil.” His voice, a piercing jet of sound, flew over the jagged melodics, weaving them into a blindingly rapid melody, as Malone and Barron easily grounded...
With that, I submitted to his direction (though I yearned to grab the handkerchief from his shirt-pocket to blot my clammy hands). Yet as I struggled to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, I found myself getting swept away. For the first time on our trip, I truly felt in sync. This was not prepackaged tourist tango. It seemed simultaneously genuine and surreal—so much so that if my partner had relinquished my hands at any point, I might have been tempted to pinch myself...