P.S. I got sick later

I’ve just returned from finally watching Midnight in Paris. I was smiling through the whole picture. There’s that Owen Wilson onscreen personas charm, the non-digital grainy picture thanks to the AMC at Kennedy Commons (maybe also in part to how the film was shot- how could I tell the difference?), the blustery good nature of the caricatures of famous people.

It’s sort of like a grown ups version of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Which is high praise, as far as I’m concerned.

It’s raining lightly outside, just like the end of the movie.

The story is very much wish fulfillment- “what if I could meet all these people I’ve looked up to?” It’s like fanfiction in that sense. Your self insert character just dropped in on another universe and everyone acts just how you expect them to… plus everyone happens to love you somehow. Was it all a dream? As if that ever matters.

I strolled into the theatre with a couple of minutes to spare. It was just me and two old ladies at the front. The one, just before the movie started, asked the other if they were alone. “No, there’s one other person here,” was the reply. They laughed at a couple of things but left half way through the movie. Maybe they snuck in from/to another movie. Having the entire theatre to myself was the height of luxury, I’m lucky.

Heh. Everything out of Hemingway’s mouth was loud and abrupt. Everything had to be “true” with that guy, that guy in the movie I mean. I liked the advice about writers not wanting to read another writers work “we’re both writers, we’re in competition with each other. Either you’re book is bad, and I don’t want to read bad work, or it’ll be good and I’ll be jealous which is worse still.”

Maybe that’s the quote, I didn’t have a notebook at hand. And then when he drunkenly yells out “ANYBODY WANNA FIGHT?!” Again, these are cartoon versions of famous figures, but that makes them either more truly how Woody Allen (movies writer) sees them, or how he wants them to be perceived. It doesn’t matter which is the case, I’m unlikely to ever meet the man. I could write a story where I meet up with him. But if I were to do that I’d rather meet someone else. I’d previously thought about Animal Man, so maybe that’s still on the table.

I was trying to soak up as much atmosphere as I could afterwards. Two guys outside asked if I was alright- I probably looked high. Actually, the one guy sounded like he asked if I had or possibly wanted a tic-tac. I said no thank you before being informed the guy was asking if I was alright.

Making that the shortest, most successful game of telephone ever.

The objective of telephone is to obscure your message to the greatest degree possible, right?

If there are any others of this quality then I’ve gotta check out more Woody Allen movies.

Right now my head hurts, I’m getting sick, and so that’s gotta be stopped as soon as possible.