Time to breathe now, after a rather whirlwind first week back in NYC. Crashing on a futon with my Irish cousin got rather old, though I can't thank Krucoff and Becca enough for their hospitality. Still, after those first few days, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was, in fact, o-v-e-r the cramped, airless, overcrowded, grubby New York City living.
And then I relocated to Josh and Ann's stellar digs on 11th btwn 2nd and 3rd (as they're honeymooning in Italia for two weeks) and the city has become somewhat glorious again. I say somewhat. My jury is still deliberating as to whether or not I should return to this place on a "permanent" basis.
The 'main program' NYFF screenings got off to a majorly good start today with a double-bill of THE DEATH OF MR. LAZARESCU and Soderbergh's BUBBLE. THE DEATH OF MR. LAZARESCU is a miraculous achievement, a work of such devastating brilliance that I'm afraid to write about it at length. But I will in the very near future. As for BUBBLE, I want to see how I feel about it tomorrow. Suffice to say, it is a crazily interesting experiment. The further away from it I get, the more I think it might be great.
Lastly, my cousin and I have coined a theory that deserves to make its way into the cultural lexicon:
"The Coldplay Effect"
Basically, you're in a car without iPod or CD access and you're forced to listen to the radio. When Coldplay comes on, you consider this a minor victory. As in, you wouldn't be choosing to listen to Coldplay if you had complete control over the stereo, but it sure beats the shit out of Ashlee Simpson. A perfect cinematic comparison to this is THUMBSUCKER, which I saw this weekend. While I was never genuinely moved at any point, it still had all the right pieces in place (Elliott Smith, solid cinematography, compelling actors, etc.). Considering those pieces, I would rather watch THUMBSUCKER than THE EXORCISM OF EMILY ROSE. Why? "The Coldplay Effect."
I will be watching L'ENFANT in just about nine hours. Life isn't so terrible after all...