L. said: I’d give it a seven. I said: Yeah, it wasn’t bad the way I thought it would be bad.
Jim said: I hated it. Allen said: If it had been a foreign film with no subtitles I would have liked it a lot.
Lauretta and Susan and I agreed: It had moments. I said: I liked how the women courted each other openly in front of their husbands, as if they weren’t there. Susan said: The backlit tears in the final scene disturbed me. Who cries like that?
I said: I liked not having a Q&A. Lauretta said: And the director’s not here so we can say what we want.
Mary said: What was with the fucking techno music? I said: They were trying to differentiate themselves from Downton Abbey. Mary said: Ohhhh.
Then we said: What else are you seeing?
Then we said: We’re going deaf. It’s time to go home.
I write with a fountain pen. An Esterbrook plunger model. Not just because it’s eco, or because Patricia Highsmith favored Esterbrooks, or because I’m a luddite contrarian, although all these things are true. I use it because it feels good in my hand and the ink goes from dark to peacock blue as it dries and because every time I have to refill it– Continue reading →