Browsing Category

Performance

TIFF GUY IS STILL AT IT

By September 17, 2016 Film, Performance

 

More TIFF bits from my guest blogger, the nutty film fan that shares my bed and his reviews on movies, some of which this fan skipped. I’ll let you guess which ones I loved too. Tune in Monday to hear my list.

 

REVIEWS – TIFF – DAY 7

manchesterbythesea_02

MANCHESTER BY THE SEA – Lee (Casey Affleck in a performance of a lifetime) is a loner handyman in Boston, who avoids people and small talk. When not working he is alone in his basement apartment or picking a drunken fight at a bar with anyone who looks his way. It doesn’t take long to figure out be has a deep sadness from another life.
His brother dies and Lee returns to his hometown to deal with his teenage nephew, the estate, and his past. Through a series of dramatic flashbacks, we learn of Lee’s personal tragedy. It is a devastating moment in the film.
This film has Oscars all over it. It is a simple story, about ordinary life, extraordinary pain. At times, very difficult to watch. It is the film everyone is talking about in the line-ups. Run, don’t walk, to see it.

HARMONIUM – An uneventful family life is disrupted by the arrival of a mysterious man. He is the husband’s old friend, just released from prison. He joins the family as an employee and live-in guest. His gentle manners cannot conceal his disquieting presence and unresolved past.
A powerful tale of crime and punishment within the tight confines of a family drama. Slow-paced but riveting.

PARK – Set on the grounds of the decaying Olympic Village built for the 2004 games. A group of teenagers pass their time playing in this parched concrete wasteland. Victims of Greece’s economic catastrophe with no hope, no future but resilient. The director uses non-professional actors in this verity style realism film. A style and a film that is…not for everyone.

REVIEWS – TIFF – DAY 8

graduation_01

GRADUATION – A young woman is attacked on her way to school just before her final exams are set to begin. Her father, a prominent and well-connected doctor, is obsessed with his daughter’s potential. A scholarship to Cambridge depends on the results of those exams.
Cristian Mungiu won Best Director at Cannes for this morality play in which good intentions cannot ward off corruption. I trace my continued interest in Romanian cinema back to Mungiu’s brilliant 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days. Once again, he doesn’t disappoint with his masterful ability to explore human nature.

UNKNOWN GIRL – The door bell to a clinic rings only once. An overworked doctor, whose clinic closed an hour late to accommodate patients, does not answer. The next morning, the unidentified girl who ran the door bell turns up dead. Our young doctor, consumed by guilt, sets out to find the identity of the girl. In the process, she closes in on the killer.
This film drove me crazy with its convenient plot twists. As luck should have it, all the potential witnesses are her patients. Her Nancy Drew routine of “trust me, I’m a doctor, tell me what you know” was comical. As it turns out the routine was effective because in the end it gets her the confession. All she needed was persistence and her film-long look of permanent constipation. Nonsense.

NEVER EVER – Never ever see this film.

rage_01

RAGE – The film opens with the aftermath of a grizzly murder. It then follows three different stories. Each one includes a mysterious character that could be the killer. As disturbing questions arise about each suspect and we are challenged to decide who is the killer.

Great idea that worked for most of the film. I really wanted this to work. Unfortunately, it falls apart in the last half hour. The conclusion of each of the three stories ranged from melodramatic to silly. Very disappointed.

You Might Also Like

More movies, more mayhem

By September 16, 2016 Film, Performance

Peter’s reviews continue. Let me know what you think in the space below. Should I keep him around?

If you missed the first hits, here’s part one and part two.

REVIEWS – TIFF – DAY 5

nocturnalanimals_02NOCTURNAL ANIMALS – Susan (Amy Adams) is a successful but unhappy art dealer in LA. Her second marriage is in trouble. A manuscript arrives from her long-estranged first husband Tony (Jake Gyllenhaal). Alone in her house, with her husband away, she starts reading the manuscript and is propelled into the fictional life of a teacher (also Gyllenhaal) whose drive to his summer house is about to turn into a nightmare. As Susan gets deeper and deeper into the book, ahe is forced to examine her own past.
Stylish and absolutely gorgeous to look at but much more than an exercise in esthetics. Ford, who was quite the charmer at the Q+A, moves the story effortlessly between Susan’s reality and the Tony’s manuscript, drama and suspense.
Thoroughly enjoyed this film. A must see.

 

jackie_01JACKIE – Chilean director Pablo Larrain masterfully films this fresh take on the Kennedy assassination. Told through the eyes of Jacqueline Kennedy (Natalie Portman), Larrain uses a series of finely-crafted flashbacks that cover that fateful day in Dallas and the events leading to the funeral. You have never seen the assassination filmed from the perspective of the former first lady sitting in the convertible.
Stellar script, unique perspective, and a lock on the Oscar for Portman.

 

screen_20shot_202016-08-16_20at_204-07-15_20pm-0ARRIVAL – Alien space ships arrive on earth. Language professor Amy Adams and physicist Jeremy Renner are in a race against time to learn how to communicate with the aliens and their intentions. Throw in a time-shifting angle and there’s your film.

If the lesson here is “a new language gives you a new perspective”, I got it. Unfortunately, I didn’t feel the suspense, the urgency of the mission.
I wasn’t expecting Independence Day 3 from Denis Villeneuve (please, no ID3) but just a little more excitement.

Note from Anne. You’re all wet on this one. More after the smorgasbord.

 

americanhoney_02AMERICAN HONEY – A Dickensian gang of misfits and runaways criss-crossing the Midwest selling fraudulent magazine subscriptions. Drugs, booze, fights and trashed motel rooms. No hope, no future, attitude and bravado to hide pain and insecurity. Shot in verité style realism with mostly non-professional actors with a dead or dying America as a backdrop.
I understand that it is an “important film” but I didn’t need 158 minutes of it. Powerful but way too long.

REVIEWS – TIFF – DAY 6

 

BLEED FOR THIS – There is only so much you can do with a boxing film. You overcome adversity and win or lose (in a split decision) the title fight. The real draw for me was Miles Teller, the up-and-coming young actor I last saw in Whiplash. A great performance in a film with a decent script. See this before Rocky 42 or Creed 17.

birthofthedragon_01

BIRTH OF THE DRAGON – One day, someone will make a film about Bruce Lee that does not have a paint by numbers, two–dimensional character script.

salesman_02-useforannouncementTHE SALESMAN – Their Tehran apartment block on the verge of collapse, a couple (Emad and Rana) are forced to move into a shabby nearby flat. Soon after, Rana is attacked by an intruder while taking a shower. In the aftermath, things turn strange and tense for the couple. Feeling vengeful and confused, Emad plays detective while Rana is in a state of shock. Meanwhile, the two are performing as Wily and Linda Loman in an amateur production of Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman.
Director Farhadi’s A Separation won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film. At Cannes this year, Salesman received prizes for Best Actor and Best Screenplay. Masterfully crafted, great pace and performances.

ASURA: CITY OF MADNESS – Korean crime dramas generally don’t disappoint. This had all the makings of a solid cop film. Formerly good, now bad cop, dying wife, doing dirty work for corrupt mayor, painted into a corner by Internal Affairs to cooperate or go to jail. Big production budget.
Unique angles in the car chase scenes and fights. Solid acting. Unfortunately it gets stupid. A prolonged, over-the-top, lazy bloodbath ending.

 

We’re in the home stretch now.  Peter will wrap up his reviews here on Sunday. For my take on some of these films (we saw many together) and some others he missed, check back here Monday.

You Might Also Like

Guest Blog Part 2: TIFF-bits

By September 12, 2016 Film, Performance

Sunlight is my friend in the TIFF line-ups.  So is this guy. Here’s more of Peter’s TIFF-bits. Read More

You Might Also Like

Guest Blog: TIFF reviews opening days

By September 11, 2016 Film, Performance

His car is always immaculate. This remains a curiosity to those who know him as the guy who will ask you to join him for a bowl of Chinese soup at midnight or lead you to some other delicious discovery on a street you’ve never heard of in your own town.

A man who loves to eat never has crumbs in his car. Go figure.

I didn’t marry him for his curiosity but it’s kept us intact these years even thought I refuse to play trivia games with him as it’s no fun having him win every time. That he loves rap tickled the fancy of my children’s peers when Dad was on late night driving duty. None of those kids likely guess that he cries at the opera and has gorgeous cover art of all his favourite operas on his office walls. Once he made me sit in the dark on our sofa to listen to Clifford Brown. We held hands as the music filled the room and our children slept above us. Forget the guy in the tux, paid to serenade table-side at some over-priced noshery.  Being married a long time teaches you when to pay attention.

Sitting in the rain to watch soccer isn’t my thing (fair-weather fan, go ahead- shoot me), nor strategic board games that stretch over cottage tables pass their expiration date. Some passions are solo projects.

I do like going to movies with my man. His entry points into the art form were not mine so we often find traces the other missed.

IMG_3530
Here follow’s Peter’s snapshots of films seen over the opening two days.   Read More

You Might Also Like

Nothing is promised, not one day

By June 14, 2016 Performance

Did you watch the Tony awards?

I haven’t seen any of the nominated plays for the first time in a long time, nor am I one of the lucky ones to have a ticket for Hamilton. On our last two trips to NYC, that ticket was the hottest one in town…at $400 a ticket. Gulp.

Read More

You Might Also Like

Sugar twin

By May 12, 2016 Film, Performance

The best thing you can possibly do with your life is to tackle the motherfucking shit out of it.

–Cheryl Strayed–

1995 was a year of transformation for bestselling author Cheryl Strayed, as it was for me. In March of that year, I became a mother. A few months later, in the summer, Strayed went on a solo trek for 1,100 miles along the Pacific Crest Trail. Her journey, detailed in her memoir Wild, resulted in what she calls her “genesis story”.

My transformation from solo driver to infant-seat-in-the-back-mama was certainly more showy (I had a baby:she had blisters) yet the real growth—so much more “discreet” in real life transformations, says Strayed — was equally terrifying. Was I ready?

 

After watching the gorgeous 2014 film adaption of her book at the Books on Film event earlier this week at the TIFF Bell Lightbox in Toronto, Strayed broke it down to a rapt audience.

How do we bear the unbearable?

This very question forms the spine of the forty-seven year old’s memoir, as much a treatise on grief as it is a feminist fable. By now, Wild— her experiences using sex and drugs to escape the pain of losing her mother at age twenty-two, her failed marriage, and eventual epiphanies on the trail— has become an inspiration for many around the world. Wild has been translated into forty languages. Within a week of publication, the book caught the eye of Nick Hornby. The celebrated UK screenwriter and novelist told Strayed he liked the book’s authenticity: she didn’t go on the trail in order to write a book, but waited seventeen years to pen her memoir. By then, she was an award-winning essayist, as well as a mother of two children (Among her writings is an essay about her deep respect for Alice Munro.  As she told the audience this week, this Canadian icon was her literary mother for many years.)

Okay, stop right there, I blinked: enough with all this. Are you my sister from another mother? (fangirl on Munro here)

So I skipped some of her life chapters and am still waiting for a brilliant screenwriter to make a film about my life (an experience Strayed highly recommends. She had Reese Witherspoon*. I’m holding out for Amy Schumer).  What connected me were a series of profound insights only available through age, motherhood, a few wounds and wrinkles later.

Don’t lament so much about how your career is going to turn out. You don’t have a career. You have a life. Do the work. Keep the faith. Be true blue. You are a writer because you write. Keep writing and quit your bitching. Your book has a birthday. You don’t know what it is yet.

–Cheryl Strayed–

These sentiments; many expressed in Strayed’s popular advice column, and her books Tiny Beautiful Things and Brave Enough; are like warm towels for her thousands of fans, including this writer.  Mostly, I champion her sense of “gathering oneself”. This is what mothering has been for me for two decades. It is as apt a description as I’ve heard yet. If I could, I’d wear it as a t-shirt uniform (loose and baggy, thanks. Those snug little numbers belonged on my twenty-year old self).

The day I gave birth I was a shivering mess. I called my mom on the phone, minutes before they wheeled me into the OR to have a C-section. A newbie to surgery of any sort, I had not responded well to the news of this unexpected procedure, a full twenty-four hours after labour: my very wild state was on full display. My mother (an old pro:I’m one of five) assured me it doesn’t matter how you are to become a mother, embrace the fact that it’s about to happen any minute now!

Still I wailed,

They’re going to cut me open!

Twenty-one years and two daughters later, and I now know.

That was a prophecy.

Scan 68

 

No, I wasn’t ready. Ready is overrated.

 

 

 

*If you haven’t seen the film, Wild was one of my favourites from 2014. See my whole list here.

You Might Also Like

Feel better film

By April 22, 2016 Film, Performance

I heard a commentator sign-off yesterday on the untimely passing of Prince as “it’s just the cycle of life”.

Yikes.

Fifty-seven is mid-cycle last time I checked. For some of my peers, it’s also kindergarten.  Rarer still are those pulling over to the curb to quit. A week ago, Prince played two sets in one night in Atlanta. Acoustic sets. Not much to hide behind there. And he had just announced he was writing his memoir. The title was to be “The Beautiful Ones”.

What do we do with these events that confuse our sense of things?

Throw impromptu purple parties and dance all night long. 

Be relentless and daring in our own creative endeavours.

Watch a movie infused with so much spirit that we immediately feel better—Opening today, Sing Street is your prescription. Spunky and semi-autobiographical—the film is based on a year in director John Carney’s life- Sing Street was part of the Next Wave festival at the TIFF Bell Lightbox earlier this year.  As he does handily in this crowd-pleaser, sixteen year-old star Ferdia Walsh-Peelo charmed an audience dotted with Irish Canadians clearly delighted, as I was, to witness the hit parade of eighties music in a gritty 1985 Dublin.

The movie belongs to that soundtrack, but Walsh-Peelo, who trained classically as a soprano before his voice changed, is great fun to watch as he reinvents himself with eyeliner and various costuming familiar to all of us who lived through that decade of music videos.

sing-street-john-carney-pic

Here Carney is on clichéd turf yet he soars high with a tone both tender and as unassuming as his earlier hit Once, and a less successful but still charming Begin Again.  Every member of this cast nails it. Evident too is a simple innocence missing from so many films that navigate this genre with cloying crap instead of the authenticity in abundance here. A nostalgia piece it is not. Rather, an irresistible love fable about youthful dreams that won me over early on.

They saw me coming when they made this one. Romantic? Where have you been? Duh.

Have your own purple moment. Grab a posse and get out to see this low budget winner.

Happy Weekend.

Weekend reading for Earth Day.

Buying seeds at the nursery? Heres the world’s biggest seed bank.

Fellow artists looking for new retreat spots? Here’s one list for people who love nature and science.

And because I like to look at fields of glory today.

#RestinPurple

IMG_2597

You Might Also Like

Life soundtrack hit: RIP Prince

By April 21, 2016 Performance

It was the song my twenty-two year-old self waited for a DJ to spin whenever I found myself on a dance floor. Patience then (and now) as scarce as my bank balance, I’d invariably make an urgent plea, shouting over an already too loud snoozefest of a dance mix, please play Kiss. The song, I mean-by Prince!  A nod from the DJ (always male in those days, usually bemused) and I was content enough, sucking back Tom Collins cocktails.  Yet to come was an appreciation of wine, my own playlists, and other predilections.

Prince didn’t care. 

You don’t need experience

Then came that unmistakable guitar riff and my loins woke up. There may have been others on the dance floor. I wasn’t aware of any. It was just me and Prince, having communion right there. As the song went, I didn’t have to be beautiful or rich (good thing as I was neither) and the cool crowd? Prince mocked them too. We both knew better.

You don’t have to be cool to rule my world.

So what did he want?

I just need your body baby from dusk to dawn.

YOU GOT IT.

In my second year of McGill, Purple Rain hit theatres.

My roommates and I flocked to it.

Scan 219

That’s me on the right. My roommate Tamara may very well have her eyes closed, dreaming of Prince. It’s only a guess.

Prince was a funkmaster, our wizard of weird and wonderful and god, his music was sexy. We didn’t need therapy. We had Prince. The guy understood women’s needs.

Women, not girls, rule my world.

Clearly, he loved women and shared his stage with all female band members. Just ask Toronto guitarist Donna Grantis, recruited to join an all female quartet with Prince.

intro-650-80

“I think he likes the energy. He’s mentioned the strength he admires in women.”

-Donna Grantis, Working with Prince is as purple as you’d expect

Shedding inhibitions is a story of increments. I was headed for the stars, my inner engines chugging cheerfully along predictable tracks.  Finish university. Seek higher learning from multitude of sources. Find meaningful work.

Scan 218

Along the way, Prince, guitar god, king of earthy, utterly sensual magic was whispering in my ear:

Don’t forget,  

My love will be your food.

Many musicians have recorded their own versions of Kiss.  Prince remains the best interpreter of that masterful groove. The song also has a worthy spot on Rolling Stones Greatest Songs of All Time. As for me, I’d bump it way up on my own list: songs of my life soundtrack. Songs that reminded me of life soundtrack.

RIP Prince. Thank you for valuable lessons. The men man in my life thank you too.

You Might Also Like

Songwriting in The Six

By February 26, 2016 Performance

There’s a little big song I’ve been humming every since hearing it earlier this week. I can’t shake it for this one has a lyric and melody I want to wrap my arms around and embrace as a new soul anthem for the city I call home.

All together in this big old town…c’mon, you’re humming too, right?  And how about those lyrics? Let’s see now. This writer is in love.

We skate beneath the moon

and the snow falls like a quiet tune

Somewhere in these old streets a new self to be found… Songwriting is a beast. I have a songwriter residing in this house* and we dish on the trials of the trade. What seems simple is striking in its complexity.  Streets of Toronto nails every element of a hit song: a great hook, a lovely story, and a sound that just builds and builds. It was penned by Toronto science teacher Kevin Walsh.  You can listen to the song over and over and not worry not much about song origins. It can just worm away into your brain and stay there all day.

Or…

I asked Walsh to break it down for this fangirl.

Is this song one of many tucked away in your back pocket?

“I’ve always been involved in music, usually as a sideman of sorts—a bass player typically. I also have a love for poetry and love writing it. So it’s been natural over the years to link the two. Recently, because some of the musical outfits I play with needed some original songs, I started writing again after a long break, and was surprsied to find just how deeply I felt challenged by that, and how much I enjoyed it. I do indeed now have a bunch of unheard songs “in the back pocket” as you say.”

What is the story behind the lyric?

“I started by thinking what elements in my life here in Toronto I like best. Maybe due to the season, the skating I’ve done with my boy over the years outside down at Kew Gardens with this beautiful view of Lake Ontario in the background came to mind right away.The first time I arrived here (I’m from out west originally) and saw people playing shinny at midnight under the lights, realized that you could simply show up with your skates and off you went onto the ice, snow, sleet, hail or whatever–it just blew me away, and continues to be one of my favorite things.  My son (age 8) also immediately affirmed this when I asked him with no prompting what he liked best here: “Skating outside, and the people in the stores look at you and are real nice..” So that sent the words toward, roughly speaking, being a song about people, and an image or two of the sort of things I find particularly beautiful. Finally it seemed to make sense to do different verses about different lives living themselves out here. “

Verse one: It was intended to convey the sense of those who are born, raised and die here—Torontonians to the core. 

Verse two: It has something to do with the night life, with the kinds of soulful musicians that are scattered about the place playing tiny bars all over (and most especially the kind of moments that occur in those places once in a long while, when a ballad is sung just so)—if I can do my best to describe it–and the crowd is feeling just so as well and you have some sort of moment of sublime human communion between everyone present.

Verse threeIt’s about myself and my fiance who’s from Newfoundland (and I’m from Vancouver and we met here). But more generally intending to convey the classic Torontonian story about coming from Canada all over to eventually make this place home. 

Verse four: This verse is the one about “Yana” and that was inspired by that moving image of Torontonians welcoming Syrian refugees at the airport recently.
5th and last was intended to get at some sense that this place has been around long before it was York or Toronto and honour to some degree the various First Nations people that have lived here as well for quite literally thousands of years now.

Walsh corralled a few friends and many colleagues to help with background vocals and accompaniment.  Teachers who love their work and make music together? Isn’t that what you call a blessed life?

“There’s sooo much talent in this school, and everyone’s so willing to contribute creatively. The song itself, with its recurring theme of all the different lives living themselves out in this city, felt like it needed multiple singers, so Havergal was the first place I turned to. The other singers seen in the video, by the way, Patrick Brealey, Terra Hazelton (not pictured,  who sings a line that begins with “Somewhere in these old streets..”) and Joanne Morra are friends as well, from the Toronto music scene at large—and were also very generous in offering their own time and talent. Bridging both worlds is Ariel Shetzen (“She’s as beauty as can be..”) who’s both a former student, and now a budding jazz singer around town. And of course there’s the huge gang of colleagues that turned out during lunchtime of a PD day and sang their hearts out, game enough to run out into the snow and belt a final chorus even. I can’t thank them all enough for their spirt and enthusiasm and relentless support.”
What are your hope for this anthem?

Well it’s Friday here, contest closes at midnight, so no hopes have been dashed just yet and I can dream away: I’d like it to win and be heard in a wider Toronto way, and maybe contribute in some way to the general feeling of pride we hold in our town.

 

There’s monster talent in this city and many of them have joined this contest to interpret love of place. I would tell you to check out the other entries but really, don’t bother. This one is it.  Now get busy and vote.  As I post this, Streets of Toronto is in fourth place. It’s up to you to move it up to the top. The heartbeat is hard to miss.

 

GO STREETS OF TORONTO GO!!!!

 

More on songwriting and a few heroes here and there:

*Songbird: Yes, that would be my kid.

In the garden with Joni

Tegan and Sara:blasting the generational divide

A Candle for my Captain

You Might Also Like

Giants among us

By January 14, 2016 Film, Performance

If thinking about your own death is supposed to lead you to greater happiness, what of the deaths of others? Of those you just assumed were not of this planet and didn’t live by any rules familiar to the rest of us trudging along our very ordinary paths? Can we weep then?

No, not for long. For they’re not gone really. How can they be? Artists like David Bowie and Alan Rickman leave behind great troves of riches to dazzle us forever.  We can ride forever on the music, listening and watching wondrous performances over and over.

So much has been written about Bowie-just about everyone remembers a seminal moment attached permanently to some stage of Bowie’s career. I’m stuck at the end. Who writes their own requiem? A genius, that’s who. The song Lazarus on his latest album Blackstar, released days before his death, is also the title song of the musical Bowie wrote (with Irish playwright Enda Walsh) that is currently playing in New York City’s East Village until next week. During his illness, Bowie wrote four new songs for the musical and was working until the very end. Phooey to all those pundits pondering the secrecy of his illness. Why didn’t he tell anyone? Why would he? This is a guy consumed with the very business of creation. His art was for all of us.  How very strange and magnificent that his private struggles were just that-private.  Instead he left melancholy messaging all over his last work. I can’t give everything away: haunting, elegiac, utterly original.

For the ages.

 

I saw Alan Rickman at TIFF on stage in 2014 when he came out to introduce his cast for A Little Chaos starring Kate Winslet and Matthias Schoenaerts. I liked the film he directed enough, even though it meanders off for a good part of the story about a 17th century landscape designer who falls in love on the job.

Little Chaos Movie

I liked listening to Alan Rickman a lot more. Of course I’m hardly alone.

His voice could suggest honey or a hidden stiletto blade, and the profile of a Roman Emperor.

-Helen Mirren

Rickman’s best work is a matter of passionate debate. Was it Hans Gruber in Die Hard, a film that holds up years later because of his brilliant performance? Professor Snape? Can any of us who devoured the Harry Potter books ever conjure a face other than his for that delicious role? Or Jamie the ghost in Truly, Madly, Deeply Of all his roles, I like to think of him in this bittersweet gem directed by another talent now gone, the brilliant Anthony Minghella.

 

Of the many tributes written this week, Emma Thompson’s poignant remembrance brought me to tears. I interviewed her years ago for a beautiful little film called Remains of the Day and found her to be as charming in person as she is on camera. It was no surprise then to find her so eloquent in her goodbye.

Alan was my friend and so this is hard to write because I have just kissed him goodbye.

What I remember most in this moment of painful leave-taking is his humour, intelligence, wisdom, and kindness. His capacity to fell you with a look or lift you with a word.

That intransigence which made him the great artist that he was — his inedible and cynical wit, the clarity with which he saw most things, including me, and the fact that he never spared me the view. I learned a lot from him.

He was the finest of actors and directors. I couldn’t wait to see what he was going to do with his face next. I consider myself hugely privileged to have worked with him so many times and to have been directed by him.

He was the ultimate ally. In life, art and politics. I trusted him absolutely.

He was, above all things, a rare and unique human being and we shall not see his like again.

-Emma Thompson

Back in 2014, Rickman’s film was the closing night of the festival.  Fangirl that I was, that I am still in these moments, it was no surprise to me or anyone else that he introduced his film with characteristic panache.

 

 

Packrats like me cherish ticket stubs. This one serves as a lovely reminder of that wondrous presence forever embedded in our cultural history.

IMG_6179

 

 

You Might Also Like