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Shame and Unstrap Me

IT’S ABOUT 6:30 IN THE MORNING and this pair, the woman all efficiency, trying to keep to a schedule, the husband always lagging behind, are loading lingonberries into a station wagon that has a funny brine like crust on its discouraging surface. The mood that encases these two, the wife trying to make a go of a failing farm operation, the husband becoming more and more of an isolationist (first he doesn’t want to get out of bed, then he wants to discuss his dream, finally he figures out that neither the radio nor the telephone needs to be fixed) is of one tiny exacerbation scraping against another. It’s a very nice scene: the scale is perfect; the fact that a dusty car, two crabby people and an unflourishing farmyard are in perfect alignment is only part of the feeling of serenity. There are no camera gimmicks or script dramatics to distract from the small chafings between a husband (

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