The Office

Corporate culture can be painful to watch from the inside. Being part of it against my will, I can honestly tell you that it's not cool every day. You might have seen THE OFFICE a few times, but even if it's pretty close to reality, it doesn't perfectly describe the sheer boredom of an office job.



The worst is that it's not the job that's the most boring part - it's the co-workers. If you happen to have a hobby or if you've found a way to spend your time in an interesting way while being employed to do "not much", there will always be somebody to suck the life out of you, or prevent you from working on your stuff, because THEY are bored and are too dumb to find something to do themselves. They automatically assume that you're bored too and that you're willing to waste your time with small talk.

The worst part about office life are the others. People with loud voices, or odors. People with bad habits.

I have often seen people washing their hands, and leaving the room without turning the water off, as if it was going to turn itself off magically. There's a sign above the urinals and in the stalls that urge people to wash their hands, for their own health & mostly, their co-worker's. Often, people pissing will leave in a rebelious fashion, without complying. But the most troubling I have seen is someone taking a DUMP and leaving without even touching the sink.

These are people you work with. Sometimes you touch their hands. Often, they touch things that you'll also touch, namely stuff in the CAFETERIA. Stuff that you might PUT IN YOUR MOUTH.

Corporate culture can become painful pretty fast. The over-use of expressions such as "touch base" or "it's all good" sometimes lead me to wrongly believe I was secretly transported to Nebraska while taking a short nap.



It will come as no surprise to you to learn that I really enjoyed Ricky Gervais's THE OFFICE. So much that I miss it already, a couple of weeks after having completed the series. At first, the odd pace & weird documentary feeling made me feel uneasy, and I really didn't get where all this was going. But David Brent grows on you. Like bad seed.

Now that there are seven (!!!) incarnations of the popular series, including one that's called "La Job" and that's shot & showed here in Quebec, I could get my fix anywhere I turn. But I accept no substitute. I don't even want to TRY. It would kind of be sacrilegous, if you ask me. I have read in many of our fine cultural weeklies, as well as in MacLean's, that the main character of "La Job" was trying really hard to BE Ricky Gervais. So much that his character is named David Gervais.

It is in these moments that I feel blessed about having stopped watching TV 8 years ago, and having no envy whatsoever to stain my resolution.

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Have I, even for a short moment, ever thought that Brian Yuzna was a good director ? Probably. Sure, his RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD entry was a campy one, but it lacked the seriousness of the first two installments. His two DENTIST movies are watchable, but not the ones I'll remember if I ever go back in the dentist's chair. Shot in between the two DENTIST flicks, PROGENY is an entry about alien abductions that I recently watched as part of my Spring cleaning fever - yeah, I'm getting rid of some turds.



The movie starts out with two naked human beings making tender love - missionary style, of course, this is Hollywood - in their bed. Then there's a flash of light, and they don't know what's going on anymore. The husband (Arnold Vosloo) feels uneasy about the whole experience but the wife (Jillian McWhirter, who also tagged along for THE DENTIST 2) is okay. A couple of weeks later, wifey tells hubby she's pregnant, and with the help of the calendar they find out that the foetus was conceived on that fateful night.



Of course, the tension escalates from then on, and we're faced with a rather messy and unealthy thriller about maternity... and alien abductions. Brad Dourif plays the aliens specialist, a loser with a sociology Ph.D who documents abductions here and there. The special effects are not always top notch, and the way the aliens are portrayed is laughable, but there are a few good points here and there. To find them, however, you gotta look hard.

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Can you say that a franchise who takes its time between episodes is trying to offer only the best it can ? The first MISSION : IMPOSSIBLE dates back from '96, the John Woo-directed follow-up was released in 2000, and the third (and hopefully final) edition last year, in 2006. Producing : Tom Cruise. Directing : JJ Abrams. After Brian De Palma & Woo, the challenge was big.



Can Mr. Abrams, who mainly worked for TV productions before, direct a good action movie ? He most definitly can. Can he stand on the same platform as the first two directors who handled the previous episodes ? Hell no.

There is no substance or visual style in this one. Tom Cruise returns as Ethan Hunt, agent extraordinaire. This time he's on the verge of getting married (to Michelle Monaghan, a cutie who also appeared in KISS KISS BANG BANG), has left the "force" to concentrate on passing on his skills by teaching them to new agents, and is generally quite the happy fella. But duty calls. Billy Crudup, once a side kick, gets him to come back for "one last mission" : saving an ex partner (Keri Russell) from the claws of a vicious weapons dealer (Philipp Seymour Hoffman).



So there he goes again with his all-stars team (comprised of Ving Rhames, Jonathan Rhys Meyers & Maggie Q). Big guns, explosions, cars, helicopters, SUV's, ladies, villains, intrigue, suspense, volte-faces, masks, high-end cities... We travel with them to a seedy Berlin industrial zone, to China, to the Vatican... and when the end credits roll, not a lot of good guys have been hurt, all the baddies are dead, and we sure are about to forget everything about the plot. Lawrence Fishburne should still star, somewhere, in a series about his Jimmy Jump character, and stick to it, because it's the best goddamn thing I've ever seen him doing.

If you like breath taking action scenes, see this. But if you didn't like the first two installments of these impossibly funky missions, don't bother seeing this one either.

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In 1975, a French pornographer directed a flick called LE SEXE QUI PARLE under the name "Frédéric Lansac". It was, of course, our good friend Claude Mulot in disguise. The movie centered about a girl whose life was ruined by her... talking pussy, uttering things she thought - or didn't - out loud to various lovers & people she met. The idea was hilarious, but it was 1975, it was France, and it was porn : the movie was a local success in some XXX theaters and was then forgotten.



But not by all. In 1977, Tom DeSimone, the director of HELL NIGHT (1981) and LUST IN THE AFTERNOON (1975), released his own version of the story, centering on the story of Penny (Candice Rialson, then a popular skin flicks bombshell). Penny is a simple yet loving girl, whose life centers around her lover Ted and her job in a nail salon. The day her pussy starts talking & singing, she's confused, but her doctor sees no trouble at all and becomes her "doctor / agent" - obviously to start managing her carreer and make big bucks.



It's a funny metaphor about the porn industry. The singing vagina, renamed Virginia, becomes quite popular and goes on tour. Penny's mother, at first reluctant about her daughter exhibiting her "treasure" in such a shameless way, is eventually charmed by the possible income and jumps aboard the ship, fully embracing the "stars' lifestyle".

This plot may sound absurd, and it is - but it's just so much fun to watch ! It's a good-natured skin flick from the 70's, featuring all-natural beauties, lots of hair, and good humor. The music is typical for the times : a weird mix of disco and rock. Virginia even has a hit playing in nightclubs !



It is sad to note that the star, Candice Rialson, who appeared in such classics as CANDY STRIPE NURSES (1974) and MAMA'S DIRTY GIRLS (the same year) has died, on March 31st of '06, of a liver disease. Her sweet smile, inviting curves and natural charms shall be missed.

"Hello, you're an asshole"

I'm lost in Absurdia. I wanted to write something meaningful, and I've been at it for a couple of days, but some factors around me have decided otherwise. Interruptions, lack of time, poor health and poor sleep have all joined forces to turn me into a slobbering zombie.

To survive a sudden & fierce attack of calls at work today, I had to drink lots of coffee, and even that coffee festival didn't chase away the humongous headache I've been suffering from since I woke up. I knew I should have stayed in bed.

I've been meaning to tell you about how much it sucks not to be able to attend the Rendez-Vous du Cinéma Québécois this year. I have nice memories from past editions : seeing 100% BIO with Serge Laprade, and asking Claude Gagnon countless questions about his filming experiences in Japan, a fascinating, isolated and unfortunately seldom known case in Quebec cinema.

My agenda is about to burst, so adding a few movies to it really wouldn't help. Although I am planning on not missing BURDEN OF DREAMS, a documentary about the filming of Herzog's FITZCARRALDO, when it plays for free at CCA on March 8th. I own a decrepit VHS of this title, so seeing a decent print of this promising feature isn't something I can pass on.

In other news, I am "trying" to eat better, without going to the extreme of a diet. I found out that I wasn't as flat-bellied as before, thanks to late night snacks and booze, and a "couldn't care less" attitude towards my many meals.



Thing is, I'm not so young anymore.

It's a sad revelation, believe me. What have you accomplished in all these years ? Close to nothing. I know it can be depressing to compare yourself to other, more hyperactive creators, but well, when I think about some overachievers and look back on what I've done over the years, I tend to label myself as a "slacker".

I don't like this term, as I don't usually like the sheer laziness that's associated with it. I work hard to pay my bills on time, you know. Having to work & study at the same time is one of the hardest things I have ever done. And still it's not enough. It's not enough for others, and it's not enough for me. Could it be that I'm asking too much ?

Let the good times roll. It often happens that people get sucked in by life and let their fate drift randomly in between sucky jobs & routine hobbies. This is the LAST thing I want to happen to me, you hear ?

If I ever become an annoying, mediocre no-brainer, please send me a message to wake me up. The content should read : "Hello, you're an asshole".

Not that I loathe being compared to a body part - because after all, an asshole is a many splendored thing when we come to think about it - but well, the asshole "label" still has some power. We're all assholes in a way, but it's never been a cool thing to hear when somebody is trying to describe you accurately.

Happy Birthday, Boy

From the Miami Herald :

Swordsman can plead insanity in killings

SANFORD - (AP) -- A judge ruled Monday that a Lake Mary man may plead insanity for fatally stabbing his wife and son on the boy's 11th birthday.

Franklyn Duzant, 41, decapitated his wife, Evangeline, 52, and nearly decapitated his son, Nico, with a 36-inch samurai sword, in front of neighbors in June, authorities reported.

Duzant faces two counts of first-degree murder. He did not speak at Monday's hearing.

Assistant State Attorney Donna Goerner told Circuit Judge Donna McIntosh that the state would not oppose the insanity plea but does want state experts to conduct a mental evaluation of Duzant. The judge agreed.

Two mental health experts for the defense will testify that Duzant was insane on the day that he killed his wife and son, according to court documents. Defense attorney Diana Tennis has said Duzant appears to suffer from paranoid schizophrenia.

Prosecutors are seeking the death penalty.

The Winter of my Discontent

Even if the month is short - and on the verge of finishing - I must say that February is the month I hate the most. I can survive the constant rains throughout October, the July heat and the Christmas fever of December, the hopelessness of seeing summer vanish during all of November and the "back to school" suckness of September, but enough is enough.



Let me make this clearer : I wanna move away. Far, far away. You might think I'm somewhat of a schizo. Changing my mind ? No. I may sing the marvels and wonders of Montreal, but it's nothing against the city itself, silly. I just can't stomach winter. It's cold out there - and also inside my appartment. The Hydro-Québec corporation pays its office space with my bills alone.

Calcium permeates everything it comes in contact with. I can't wear any fancy shoes when going out, because they'll quickly be ruined. Buses are delayed. Cars are splashin' slush on yo' ass. I've had it.



I have been thinking about Spain a lot lately. It's hot, beautiful, and part of the almighty European Union. There is always South America, but what the hell would I do there work-wise ? The Middle East, but it's a little volatile right now. Dubai, even if conflict-less, is a bit too pricey for me. Africa ? Could be nice, depending where. The best deal would be to hide somewhere on Ile de la Réunion and work in the touristic field. However, a tropical paradise would be tiring after a while, with nothing to do. It's complicated.

Chances are I'll probably end up staying here and complaining. And thus still write this goddamn blog !

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Speaking about summer, what about Wes Craven's word on it ?



The old man seemingly has something to say. L'ÉTÉ DE LA PEUR anobody ? That would be STRANGER IN THE HOUSE, a 1978 TV movie he shot the year following THE HILLS HAVE EYES, and starring none else than Linda Blair. Can you feel my pain ? The VHS I watched was dubbed in french, adding to the "out there" feel. Whatever this movie was motivated by, you could never tell that Craven worked on it if I didn't tell you. The full frame edition didn't help, of course, but let me start where I'm supposed to begin.

The Bryant family is a happy bunch. They live somewhere in California; the father has big glasses, the mother (Carol Lawrence) is hot as hell, and the daughter (Blair) is proud of her horse. However, one morning, her aunt & uncle are killed in a car accident, and her mother announces that her cousin (Lee Purcell - who starred opposite Orson Welles in Bert I. Gordon's 1972 romp NECROMANCY) is going to come & live with them for a while. She seems charming at first, but after a while even the horse freaks out when he sees her. She ends up stealing Linda's boyfriend and wearing her clothes, and though she is loved by all the little Blair insists there's something fishy going on.



Linda Blair has never had bigger hair. Her face is buried in curls, and the cowgirl costumes she's wearing just add to the ridicule. One can easily understand why any guy would immediately ditch her for Lee Purcell, even if it's not nice to write it. The movie is well paced, of course, but its TV movie status is never quite forgotten. It's tame - there's a sexual sub-text that seems to develop, and is then almost dropped - and silly, and you never really root for anybody. You just watch with a smile as little Linda wakes up with her face swollen & red on the day she's supposed to go to some dance party, and as her boyfriend gets the hots for the sexy cousin and takes her for a ride (implicitly sexual).

There are enough unspoken acts in there to fill a whole porno, but I guess it's also the case with any movie involving more than one character. The supernatural elements & cheap special effects kick in towards the end and it goes downhill from there. Craven should have kept the dodgy scenes suggested, but what can we do other than watch ?

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Korea has a strange cinematic landscape, much like Quebec's. Let's not compare budgets, but rather concentrate on the vast array of styles & treatments that koreans offer when they start shootin'.



Korean cinema "broke out" in the underground mainstream - a term seemingly contradictory, but the kind of term we unfortunately need nowadays - with a few releases that were not very serious - and not very good either. The most remembered of them all has to be Kim Sang-Jin's ATTACK THE GAS STATION (1999), a painful farce with sad late 90's punks... attacking a gas station. The movie featured immaturity, slaps, and a character who dreamed of being in a boy's band. The essence of Korean pop culture ? Let's hope not.

Park Chan-Wook changed the idea that we had about his national cinema with a trio of wonderful, oddly-paced movies, his "revenge" trilogy : SYMPATHY FOR MR. VENGEANCE (2002), OLDBOY (2003), and LADY VENGEANCE (2005). The fine folks at Fantasia also gave us a chance to view all kinds of oddities from Korea, over the years, and I now personally fully accept the fact that their cinema is as diverse and varied than any country's.



Which brings me to a flick that has been projected at Fantasia a few years ago, but that I missed : THE UNINVITED. Directed by newcomer Lee Su-Yeon in 2003, its original title is 4 INYONG SHIKTAK and it could be the best thing you ever come across to describe in images the old R.E.M. classic "Everybody Hurts".

A young man, on the verge of marrying a nice little bossy chick, lives a strange experience. He falls asleep on the subway, half drunk, and wakes up at the terminal. As he exits the wagon, he sees two little girls, asleep on the benches. But it's too late for him to get them out, already the wagon is leaving the station for the night. The next day, he hears the news : the two girls have been poisoned by their mother and left in the wagon on purpose. He is troubled. He is even more troubled when he goes home and finds their ghosts quietly sitting at his kitchen table.

Turns out that the guy doesn't know anything about his past - well, before he was seven - and he thinks he might have been adopted. Something bothers him. Why would he see the dead ? He ends up meeting a depressed narcoleptic girl - Jun Ji-Hyun, the sassy girl in... MY SASSY GIRL (2001) - who has the same "problem" as him. Together they'll try to "heal" each other, but the viewer will find out that pretty much every character has a dark secret hidden somewhere in his past.

This is a very troubling movie, mainly because most of the deads are children, and that their end is often graphically violent. This aspect, at least, is typically asian. And it can trouble eastern viewers. Some of the content is also confusing, sometimes not too explicit, and only hinted at. Playing the guessing game when the rythm is that slow and the running time more than two hours can be tiring. But the reward is haunting, and almost unhealthy. This well constructed plot will stay with you long after you have switched the TV off.

Things to do in Montreal when you're dead

Dead. The word seems a little odd to describe how most people feel these days, but it's well chosen. This is extreme, but so are the conditions in which we have to struggle to stay alive. Minus 30's are not uncommon and the question often rises : why the fuck do we even bother ? Why insisting on living in this shithole city with this shitty climate ? Why don't we move to somewhere warm already ?



Because. Many reasons. There is only about three months out of 12 of bad weather to live through. We might be limited in sun, but we are certainly not lacking decent parties. And the reduced criminality and beautiful blend of cultural & ethnic flavours is something you can't find anywhere else. Try as you might, there are inconveniences everywhere, and Montreal offers the perfect balance : low crime rate, lots of cultural content, cheap rent, a laidback lifestyle, tolerance, the notable absence of any religion trying to interfere in politics, a variety of geographical environments, rich & poor people of all races & colors. A big melting pot of fun, and of cool people doing their best to share a piece of land.

We just have to make sure that winter blues doesn't kill us for real and when springtime comes, we'll be reborn. Or something.

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My good pal Benjamant warned us all when he wrote about the most recent TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE installment. I'd say his critic made me want to see the movie more than anything else. He qualified it as an "écoeuranterie sans nom". I now pretty much have to agree with him.



The movie is a prequel and was conceived by the same production team behind Marcus Nispel's 2003 THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, starring Jessica Biel in a tiny white tank top. A "remake" not to be confused with the poor attempt at a sequel made in 1994, THE RETURN OF THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, also known as TCM : THE NEW GENERATION. In this Kim Henkel-directed piece of nonsense, Renée Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey were both the figureheads in a ship of fools, if I might say. My only advice is never to watch it.

In the extras of the DVD, we are told that the current director of this new version, Jonathan Liebesman, who's responsible for 2003's DARKNESS FALLS and for the upcoming FRIDAY THE 13TH installment, wanted the movie to be "the most brutal possible" so that his "product" doesn't feel like other pieces of the current "horror renaissance" we are inundated with these days. In a sickening way, he has succeeded at crafting a movie that, if ridiculous at times, offers a nauseating level of visual violence.

We are supposed to learn more about Leatherface, but instead are served a nice lesson in inhumanity, and of how far special effects can go nowadays. I thought I was insensible and that a movie could never make me cringe, but this one is quite the exception. I will not start to describe how savage it is, but let's just say that it's not pretty, and that it could give any kid nightmares for weeks.



The overall production values are amazing. Sets are top notch, and so are the special effects. The cinematography is beautiful, and it all helps getting into the movie - something the script doesn't do very well. The dialogues are cheap one-liners, and their campiness is the only thing that helps save the movie from total darkness. "Comic relief", when put aside the intense butchery we're facing, isn't even funny anymore. The Hewitt family is portrayed by the same cast as in the 2003 remake, which is original & interesting. R. Lee Ermey does a fine job as a psychopatic sheriff, and the enormous Andrew Bryniarski becomes an intense & scary Leatherface. The kids playing the victims are all good-looking, of course, and a special mention goes to Diora Baird. She screams her way through the whole movie, and her lungs seem powerful and adequate enough for her to become a legendary scream queen.

It took the documentary detailing the special effects to exorcise the horror of it all, and even then I felt like I needed to take a shower to get rid of this bleak feeling the movie evoqued. Watch at your own risk...

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LA REVANCHE DES MORTES VIVANTES, a seldom seen French gem from 1987, has got to be seen to be believed. The director is Pierre B. Reinhard, a porn king responsible for 1983's LE BAL DU VIOL and the better known Bleu Nuit fixture LE DIABLE ROSE, also shot in 1987 and featuring Brigitte Lahaie as a hooker with a heart of gold servicing nazis in a WWII parisian whorehouse.



The milk has been poisoned ! Three young small town girls die after drinking some poisoned milk and are buried in a nearby cemetary. The C.E.O. of a local chemicals plant is a very evil & horny man and in between romps with his secretary, orders his right hand man to dispose of some highly toxic waste. The waste, of course, is spilled in the cemetary where the chicks are buried and it wakes them up... The zombie girls then go on a killing spree that has all the visible signs of being commited by psycho-sexual killers; the murders all have something obscurely sexual, and the campiness level is high. A girl from Germany is flown in town to investigate about the spree. What she'll find out is even more ridiculous than any hypothesis you may come up with during a fever-induced delirium.



The overall acting skills are pretty limited, and the female players all seem to have some kind of porn background. They are rather vulgar and skanky, but in an oddly amusing way. The fashion fads from '87 probably don't help at beautifying them, but we won't hold that against them. This viewing experience is rather pleasant, and is one of the very last schlock titles that Reinhard was to work on. He went on to direct more shot-on-video porn in the 90's, forgetable pieces of exploitation that never overshadowed his previous oeuvres, among which OUTRAGES TRANSSEXUELS DES PETITES FILLES VIOLÉES ET SODOMISÉES wins the palm of the most absurd title ever.

Diapers & Messengers

I could tell you about many things today. We live in a world where the abundance of human beings, on a daily basis, creates an incredible amount of stories worthy of narration. Events, anecdotes and absurd news are a' plenty. The world is small, the world is big; depends on your point of view, and your budget. Funny things happen. Less funny things also happen.



And so sometime during the last week-end, astronaut Lisa Nowak left Houston in her car and drove to Orlando, where she arrived early on Monday after a 900 miles drive. The most interesting part, from an article by Martin Merzer published today in the Miami Herald :

She donned adult diapers -- similar to those used by astronauts during launches and landings -- so she wouldn't have to make bathroom stops, police said. Two soiled diapers later were found in her car.

Police was at some point involved because Nowak - carrying a BB gun, a knife and pepper spray - was on her way to meet & confront Colleen Shipman, who has the infortune of dating William Oefelein. And mister Oefelein happens to be a stud worth fighting over, apparently. Funny thing is that Nowak, who's 43, is married to a NASA flight controller and they have two kids.



Let's get back to the diapers. What kind of "time gain" are we looking at now ? If you stop to take a leak, it can take about 5 minutes before you start up your car and resume the trip. If the stop is for "number 2", we're looking (depending on your eating habits) at roughly 5 to 15 minutes. What could possibly possess you to decide NOT to stop for bathroom visits ? The fact that you don't like public facilities ? Would you rather bathe in your own urine - or worst, excrements - while driving and be nauseated by the smell in the confort of your car ?

The most troubling fact of this fine piece of news is not the stalking, or the fact that Nowak is an astronaut - every profession has its nutjobs. It is the mental images that come to mind when trying to picture this woman on the way to vengeance, driving on a highway, and trying to remove her soiled diaper to avoid stopping the car at all costs. Then, once this almost-impossible task has been completed, to once more become a contortionist and put on another diaper, this time clean, but for how long ?

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Ever thought about why people don't go to the movies as much as they used to ? Yes, there's a big part played by piracy and the web, and an equally big part played by the constant supersizing of home theaters, but there is also a plague we seldom think about : movie 'tards.



Movie 'tards can do anything : eat popcorn, nachos, get out of the theater while the movie runs, forget to close their cell phone or worse, answer it when it rings. They can also talk, chat, kick in your seat, behaviors that are generally unacceptable during a public viewing. When you agree to pay to see a movie with other people you may or may not know, you kind of sign a contract with your credit card or your hard earned dollars - the same social contract your mother signed with her blood when she gave you birth, stating that you had to SHARE the planet with other human beings, wether you liked it or not.

I have many friends who stopped going to the movies because they're fed up of moviegoers who think that the theater belongs to them, or seem to oversee the fact that they are no longer sitting on their living room couch. It's very simple : if you watch a movie with other people you don't know, the first and most basic rule is to SHUT THE FUCK UP.



Which brings me to Thursday Feb. 1st, at the Paramount. I won some passes for the premiere of THE MESSENGERS, as always with the Mirror. I was interested to see this movie for numerous reasons : I like movies taking place on a farm, I love horror movies, and I quite like the Pang brothers. THE MESSENGERS happen to be their first "american" movie, taking place on a North Dakota farm, and being quite HORRIFIC. I opted out of the CCA's free projection of BIOSPHERE in favour of that, for chrissakes !



It's the story of a family moving to a remote sunflower farm, trying to start a new small town life after an untold accident. The "accident" will remain a secret almost until the end of the movie, and is quite a disappointment. You would have expected something trashy, or scandalous, but the revelation is quite banal. But don't judge the rest on that observation.

Yes, the special effects are good, but not always that good. And the pace is slow, but that's how we like it. There are buried secrets that will slowly reveal themselves, until the conclusion where everything is thrown in your face - and, for a change, it actually makes sense. Those of you who have seen THE EYE and other Pang brothers "classics" will recognise some effects here and there, but the similitudes stop there - there's something going on, in the great open, and if you just let yourself go you'll be scared.

But I wasn't. Quite simply put, there were some people working very hard to make sure that NOBODY enjoys the movie. The "open door policy" of the Paramount resulted in some people still coming in a good 30 minutes after the start of the movie. Not of the never-ending preview reels, no, but the start of the main feature itself.

It would appear that the studio is also very scared of piracy. Our bags were searched at the door. There were some security dudes everywhere, and one of them was even dressed in white, with grades on the shoulders of his shirt : he was the boss. You have to appreciate a guy dressed in white in a theater, especially when he's constantly walking around, in front of the screen, looking at the moviegoers with binoculars. Because that's what he was there for. Between his rounds, he would also go to the side of the room to chat out loud with his buddies.



On top of feeling like we were convicts who have been given the temporary right to watch a movie for our good conduct, before being thrown back to our cells, it made the suspension of disbelief impossible. It constantly clashed with the momentum the movie was trying to establish with its audience.

I wrote to the Paramount a couple of days afterwards, and was told that the studio (Sony Pictures) only rented the space and provided the room with its own security. Would you take a look at how pathetically lame the way they wash their hands of any responsibility is ? They also advised me to forward my concerns to Sony. Something I will do, for sure, but that leaves me bitter.

The successive ruining of many moviegoing experiences for me has almost convinced me never to set foot in there again. Not that I usually pay. But even putting my buns on one of their seats will look like I'm giving up on my dignity now. And it's not something we want, do we ?