I had a serious movie day yesterday. I've not had a television for two and a half years, so when I have the opportunity to really watch that guy, I have no self-control.
It started with a bit of Susperia.
Listen: this film is fucking weird. Completely graphic, intense colors, and seriously elaborate deaths. Dario Argento is not fucking around.
After having had my first taste of the sweet, sweet candy I decided that instead of cleaning my apartment and being generally productive, I should go catch the double feature of Rear Window and Vertigo. As it turns out, I was totally right in my decision making. Hitchcock never fails me. And there's something completely satisfactory about sitting in a dark, moth-eaten theater eating slightly burnt popcorn and settling in for the long haul.
Post-movie, at around midnight, I was standing outside the theater when a VERY drunk Orthodox Jewish man asked me what my name was and if I knew anything about love. I was so stunned at his inebriated state, his forwardness in speech and the randomness of the whole encounter that I literally cannot remember what my response was. Whatever it was, it did NOT please this feral man. What follows is the approximate dialouge that took place:
Him: "Well... I almost go married today. (Argumentativly) What do you think of that?"
Me: "Um...congratulations?"
Him: HEAVY sigh. "No. You DON'T understand. I almost got married and I bailed on my bride."
Me: "Huh."
Him: "I was just sitting there with my bride. She was on the chair. All of a sudden, this gang JUMPED me and told me I had no right doing this! But she was just sitting on the chair! Can you believe that? A GANG! So, I bailed."
Me: "What...?"
At this point he started counting something out on his fingers and asking me hypothetical questions about the nature of flirting. He made an awkward joke and told me he was actually a screenwriter. He worked in the "biz" as he likes to refer to it.
I don't know if it was the alcohol, some sort of serious mental malfuntion or something entirely different but this guy unnerved me in ways only David Lynch movies can. It seemed appropriate that this should occur outside the New Beverly.
Here's to lonely nights in Los Angeles.
It started with a bit of Susperia.
Listen: this film is fucking weird. Completely graphic, intense colors, and seriously elaborate deaths. Dario Argento is not fucking around.
After having had my first taste of the sweet, sweet candy I decided that instead of cleaning my apartment and being generally productive, I should go catch the double feature of Rear Window and Vertigo. As it turns out, I was totally right in my decision making. Hitchcock never fails me. And there's something completely satisfactory about sitting in a dark, moth-eaten theater eating slightly burnt popcorn and settling in for the long haul.
Post-movie, at around midnight, I was standing outside the theater when a VERY drunk Orthodox Jewish man asked me what my name was and if I knew anything about love. I was so stunned at his inebriated state, his forwardness in speech and the randomness of the whole encounter that I literally cannot remember what my response was. Whatever it was, it did NOT please this feral man. What follows is the approximate dialouge that took place:
Him: "Well... I almost go married today. (Argumentativly) What do you think of that?"
Me: "Um...congratulations?"
Him: HEAVY sigh. "No. You DON'T understand. I almost got married and I bailed on my bride."
Me: "Huh."
Him: "I was just sitting there with my bride. She was on the chair. All of a sudden, this gang JUMPED me and told me I had no right doing this! But she was just sitting on the chair! Can you believe that? A GANG! So, I bailed."
Me: "What...?"
At this point he started counting something out on his fingers and asking me hypothetical questions about the nature of flirting. He made an awkward joke and told me he was actually a screenwriter. He worked in the "biz" as he likes to refer to it.
I don't know if it was the alcohol, some sort of serious mental malfuntion or something entirely different but this guy unnerved me in ways only David Lynch movies can. It seemed appropriate that this should occur outside the New Beverly.
Here's to lonely nights in Los Angeles.
VIEW 25 of 34 COMMENTS
here IS to lonely nights in los angeles. with lots more lightning, hopefully.
So how are the cathode rays and DVD lasers treating you? Shall we hit up Best Buy again for more movies? Wanna borrow a few?