Monday, November 28, 2005

Beastly Indie Fiends


We left behind - albeit briefly - the alcoholic fug of the last few weeks, and traipsed down to Cobble Hill to watch a movie. Actually traipsed is probably not the right word, since it involved a mad dash down fifth avenue, thanking the lord that the B71 was late and Cutesome's world record turkey sandwich preparation run.

The movie in question was top west Slope indie flick The Squid And The Whale, which had been filming at the end of our block for several weeks last year. The use of the edgy west slope as a cinematic backdrop is very welcome, and evens the score mightily with the Slope proper, which was good and destroyed in War Of The Worlds.

Of course, it provides us with at least one chance to display our well-developed neighborhood pedantry. Divorced Dad Jeff Bridges moves out of the well-appointed townhouse on Sixth Avenue and Lincoln into a place "the other side of the park", we're guessing from the subway sequence to be around Newkirk on the Q (or whatever they were calling the Brighton Beach line back in 1986). But when his compulsive masturbator of a son goes out for Tylenol, where does he go, but past the dubious hardware store on Fifth Avenue between Sterling and Park? Explain that, mainstream media!

Oh, the film? Stonking stuff. A nasty awkward stab at portraying a family disintegrating. Mostly, we should note, because the menfolk can't stop being so disgustingly pompous. But that doesn't stop them from screwing everything up even more.

There probably should be a slightly better review in this spot, but we have a plane to catch to Santiago. Go see the movie, just don't spend too much of it trying to make out the street signs. That's just f***ing sad.


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