The Pumpkin Eater (1964)
Yet another film to add to my to-watch list.
In a physical exorcism we excite outwards all our inhibited tensions. Movement is the song of stimulation. Action is the release of mind in tangible form. A series of nerve signals encoding a choreography of out-bursting reaction. Adrenaline, intoxicating heat and accelerated pulse; sweet, sudden explosion of primal resolution...when conscience does make Hamlets...sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, with all channels of release shut and restraints unbearably burdensome and risking to lose the name of action, id must become the entity, attain full identity and untie the knots.
As sometimes a thought can plague, mock through its echoes every single fold of the brain; a thought can spread like a tumor, a Macchiavellan Prince with cancerous influence; all this when, action is the death of a thought. There are some engaged portions of mind that are only completed at the hands of a body, this is where the sentences of such thoughts finally resolve and attain that period that punctuates the diffusion of conflict.
Beware of too many tangents, the accumulated abuse of the ellipsis. Because when an idea of action is stifled and made to remain an idea of thought, it gains weight and heavier lands the blow, if and when the action forcefully exits.