If you live in L.A., read this blog, and don’t know about American Cinematheque, well honestly, you probably don’t exist, but if you do! Check them out because they have a lot of (some) cool programs and some REALLY cool ones. Last year I went to a screening of The Dark Knight with a Q&A with Hans Zimmer that was awesome. I went to see an Alien & Aliens double feature that was totally bitching and even went some snobby French Alain Delon movies.
But last night’s double feature, followed by a Q&A with Tarantino himself, was by far the most anticipated. Not to sound completely lame and sooo cliche (I am completely lame and sooo cliche but shh) but Pulp Fiction is the reason I went to film school. I don’t like writing it down or sharing it. I feel pretty fucking lame about it, but that shit blew my mind when I was finally allowed to see it — I must have been, I dunno, 13 or 14? To this day (that is, to yesterday), despite all my viewings of it on DVD in various stages of stupor, I had never seen it on film, in a theatre full of people. So the prospect of that was very exciting.
I’m not going to review Pulp Fiction. I have no desire to and I never have. I’m sure it has flaws but I don’t see them. I just like it.
Inglourious Basterds was easily one of the best — if not the best — movies that I saw last year. It’s epic and funny and creative and beautiful. I don’t just mean, technically beautiful (which it is) but Diane Kruger and Melanie Laurent are possibly two of the most classically, not quirkily gorgeous women, like, ever. Maybe that’s not true, but both of them are captivating.
So, between the two screenings (well, actually right after Inglourious Basterds started — I don’t understand how so many people showed up at 6PM and stayed straight through until it ended after 1AM — don’t they have jobs?), a friend and I snuck out to grab a bite at the Pig & Whistle next door to the Egyptian. No sooner had we ordered a drink from the bitchiest of waitresses (seriously, everyone that works at that place is a cunt, sorry, but it’s true) than Quentin himself walked in, looking lost. He doesn’t wander though, he walks with purpose. He was wearing weird dark blue pants, a hoodie with a bright green hood and greed Adidas with no socks. Basically he looked like a homeless person. He found the woman he was meeting, a thin blonde with wavy hair and proceeded to drink what looked like a Greyhound (good choice) while she interviewed him. Maybe 10 minutes later, in walked another familiar looking face who walked over and shook his hand. It was none other than Max Cherry himself. It was a surreal Hollywood moment. Then Max and his wife(?) sat down across from us, my friend grabbed a couple of snapshots and we left to watch the end of the movie.
A Q&A followed at which I think Tarantino was kind of drunk. I don’t know, it was interesting hearing him talk but I was so fucking exhausted by that point it was kind of like “ummm…ok, I need to go to bed.” Still, it was slightly more interesting than the other time I had seen him when I just stared at him from across the room at Good Luck Bar.
God, the wheels really fell off of this post at some point didn’t they? Oh well, at least I wrote.