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Say what you will about the state of the world at the moment, any day that serves up two Ealing comedies, a pair of crime films from Elio Petri and Fernando di Leo, and caps itself off with a couple of midnight screenings from Kubrick and Carpenter, well let me jut say I still have hope for humanity on such a day. Optimist me.
90 degrees, 90 degrees, thank gawd amighty it's gonna be damn close to 90 degrees today.
Really? Have you all forgotten the icy grip winter '14 still clasped our weary hearts within mere weeks ago? And this constitutes another discomfort?
Look, it's this simple; winter drove you toward the nearest fireplace, in some cases the nearest lit garbage pail, but summer drives you to your nearest movie theater. I'll take that swap 6 days a week and twice on Sunday.
Apparently our fair metropolis has been overrun by a sporting subculture that doesn't understand that you dunk a ball into the basket, and a goalie doesn't protect a net bigger than twice his size. Pikers. Thankfully today we have films from France, Hong Kong and Japan to immerse ourselves in so that we may ignore these other cultures. Or something. Waitaminnit.
I almost wanna publicly perform my muumuu-clad Age of Aquarius dance, it seems so long since the sun's been out. The clouds have dissipated, the Brooklyn tornadoes dispersed, Blake and the murderous ghost crew of the Elizabeth Dane long since departed with Hal Holbrook's head in tow. We got a beautiful balmy weekend on the horizon, and while it may seem criminal to spend it indoors, in the flickering dark no less, a plethora of good excuse tempts mightily. As does my muumuu-clad Age of Aquarius dance. Decisions, decisions...
Just as the rep circuit explodes with several new and incredible screenings today, so do the storm clouds threaten to do the same. And I'm not talkin' metaphorical storm clouds, buddy, take a look at the sky. So, wear yer boots on this day of mists mighty and duck into a nice dry movie theater.
I betch'ya thought it was June 2014, right? Betch'ya thought that absolutely Elysian weather we enjoyed over the weekend served as proof positive that summer had finally arrived for well and good. That all going forward was fireworks, hot dogs and bikinis. Right? Ya did, right? Well joke's on us pal! Take a look outside! It's still March! AND WE'RE IN SEATTLE!
Okay, okay, maybe I'm letting this chilled humidity get to me a little too much, but I believe I speak for the lot of us New Yorkers when I say we need to see the carcass of winter '14 roasting over a spit, in the form of a pig or some other such pork-related animal. And we need it now. As it turns out, Mother Nature has no HR dept. to complain to, and therefore my vent is lost on the big ears and relegated to this blog post. So we can either collectively whine about the meteorilogical dreariness this Thursday offers, or follow in the great footsteps of our forebears and just go to the movies.
In the words of your favorite infomercial, AND WE'RE BACK! A quick jaunt to the countryside for a bit of much needed R&R finds your humble blogger rejuvenated, reinvigorated, and imbued with a renewed sense of purpose! I'm ready to hande the totality of NYC's repertory film circuit once more; as much as it has to send my way I can take it and more! BRING IT!
So it's sort of a shame then that we got a mere two-count-'em-two offerings in classic cinema screened large this day. Their relative solitude on the schedule, however, should in no way be considered indicative of a lesser quality. Let's get to the goods;