Today's lesson: The panopticon never rests. Nor does it blink.
In an attempt to cheer up the red state-dwelling cinetrix, a pal sent along these brushes with a famous film critic from the capital of the cultural elite. Our litigious culture compels me to shroud the identity in anonymity....
Film magazine editor walks into the Walter Reade theater.
It's the 3:30 show of The Tomb of Ligeia on October 29. He comes down the opposite aisle from a bosomy young thing who's with him, but he continues his loud conversation with her across the house, giving the impression of not noticing the intervening space and people.
Once they're seated and settled in front of me, he introduces a new topic to his young ladyfriend:
"So what do you think makes a film erotic?"
She mumbles something. Then the next thing he says is, "Dialogue? Did you say dialogue?"
And... scene.
Midway through the screening of Curtis Harrington's lame Who Slew Auntie Roo? at the Walter Reade (audience of maybe a dozen), all of a sudden somebody's having a long conversation back in the corner; I look back and can just make out that it's film magazine editor, talking on the intercom, speaking at the level you'd use for any normal phone call. So I got up and walked back there -- feeling annoyed by the dumbness of protecting this worthless spectacle, but come ON.
He's chatting away until I get there, keeps talking for a second or two once I stop in front of him, interrupts himself to say "Hang on a second -- I'm being attacked by a customer." Then to me he says, "Yes?" I say, "Could you not do that during the movie?" So he explains that Curtis Harrington himself is unexpectedly there, so he wants to have him introduce Usher (the next movie) and has to explain things to the projectionist. I say "The projectionist is up in the booth. Could you go talk to him there instead of disturbing people watching the movie?" Film magazine editor glares at me (in the dark), slams the phone, and huffs away.
Make your guesses in the comments. Feel free to drop a [nonactionable] dime there, too, because the cinetrix is all about encouraging courtesy to fellow filmgoers.
