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A Buffalonian Goes to the Movies

First these reviews are out of date because I
only go to movies when a movie is still being
shown but when I can reasonably calculate
that the movie theater will be nearly empty.  
I do this so I don’t have to wait in line for
popcorn and don’t have to look at other
people like me who only go to movies when.
. .  Many times I would prefer the empty
theater.  In any case, it’s a good idea to
bring along a pen light and a comic  book if
you can handle all of that and the popcorn.  
You might conclude from this introduction
that I am that rare creature, the antisocial
Buffalonian, but you would be wrong, it is
Buffalonian.  I am from Buffalo, but like most
people from Buffalo I left and then came
back and now pretend that I prefer this place
to Beirut, my other favorite city.  Beirut has
much better movie theaters and when people
are jittery they are very empty movie
theaters.  As for being antisocial, that’s none
of your business.  So now that we have that
straight let me describe a couple of my
recent movie experiences.


Margot At the Wedding”—I went only
because it was being shown at a real movie
theater, the North Park, not in a large prison
cell equipped with deafening surround sound
for the Hollywood equivalent of audio water
boarding.  I got enough of the real thing
during the good old days in Beirut.  
Hollywood has discovered this “wwhhomp”
sound which is put in whenever they guess
you are falling asleep, which for this movie
was pretty often, even though the
“wwhhomp” sound was used sparingly, alas.  
As a long aside, what is it about Nicole
Kidman that makes directors and movie
critics think she can act?  That she is
Australian?  I’d prefer Lleyton Hewitt.  At
least he gives you an occasional “Keeeum’
on.”  See Nicole pour wine, see Nicole pop
pills, see Nicole climb a tree and get a limb
stuck up her bony ass.  Real people from
Buffalo or Beirut don’t consider this acting.  
But this is a night out—you get to spend a
couple of hours with self absorbed Nor’
easterners with no visible means of support,
aside from mining their self absorbed lives
for material that they can put in stories that
get published in the “New Yorker” and then
made into screen plays for movies like the
one you, idiot, are watching, unless you
remembered the pen light and comic book.



No Country For Old Men—or for the Cohen
brothers.  You can’t put one over on genuine
Buffalonians, or Beirutis for that matter, we
know west Texas when we see it and this is
North, or was it South Dakota?  Ok they have
reinvented “Fargo.”  In place of the pregnant
cop with the understanding husband we have
the world weary sheriff (not pregnant) with
the understanding wife and horse.  In place
of Arby’s we have the Texas diner.  Same
dim-witted deputy, but with a cowboy hat.  
In place of the cigarette smoking psychopath
we have the nut munching psychopath.  Too
bad they can’t afford Steve Buscemi anymore
because Hollywood psychopaths are great
straight men for guys like Steve Buscemi and
we Buffalonians, especially from west of Main
Street, think Steve is a real person who can
act like an actor.
I thought this movie had potential—the
psychopath wanders around west Texas just
as he might the west side or west Beirut with
a large canister of compressed air bopping
unsuspecting motorists, much as they do
cattle these days to put them out of their
collective misery.  The neatly coiffed
psychopath—this is supposed to make him
ultra scary, he combs his hair!--switches to
what I think genuine western folk call a long
gun, with a very large silencer, which he
carries around to dispatch various west
Texans, many of them in coveralls and
greasy caps, individuals who look like they
need dispatching and quick.  The Cohen
brothers oblige.  Now we Buffalonian-Beirutis
have seen our share of psychopaths
wandering the streets with high powered
weapons and it does attract your attention,
but this version of said mayhem gets boring
because we know that a person creeping
around a movie set with a large canister of
compressed air and a long rifle blowing
people and chickens away will not get noticed
as long as you tell the extras and the idiots
watching the film that said psychopath is
creeping around west Texas.  Throw in some
drug money, cowboy boots, and extras
playing dead Mexicans and you have the
Cohen  brothers reinventing themselves as
the Cohen brothers meet west Texas.  But
there is one real plus for movie goers like
me—they spare us the west Texas music.  
Damn the pen light went out.
the north park
hertel ave
buffalo
two clunkers
reviewed by jack d'amico
I was writing a letter to jack d’amico
in bflo and mentioned a film—
no
country for old men.
 Terrific film
says I—the coen brothers—check it out

I mailed the letter and 3 days later I
get an e-mail with an attatchment.
Turns out jack was watching the film
at the same time but—as frequently
happens—to form a contrary view.
There was another film—
margot at
the wedding
, similarly cursed, and
now he decides its time to get a few
things off his chest movie-wise and
fires off a letter to the Buffalo News.  
That was the attatchment he sends.
But the News failed to print. Why?
Something about the tone--too
“sarcastic” says they. That was their
word. So I read the piece and e-
mailed him back. I said: what
sarcasm?
good haircut!
nicole in the tree