I have never been to Paris. The city has existed in my mind like the ultimate urban siren, calling me to dash myself across the rocks of romance. I have recognized the danger and forced myself to face the idea of saving my journey for that moment in my life when I can share it with someone I love, someone with whom the trip will act as a communion. I worry that Paris will never live up to my expectations, but how could it? Everything I dream about the City of Lights I have learned at the movies. The child's-eye view of desperation in The 400 Blows, the macho swagger of Breathless, the relationship challenges of My Sex Life..., the isolation of language and identity in What Time Is It There?, the hipster mortality of Cléo from 5 to 7, Paris is like a beautiful ancient vessel holding a million stories, and looking like the star of the show in its own right.

As many times as I have visited its streets and stories from a seat in a movie theater, never have I been as drawn to its charms and possibilities as powerfully as I was during Richard Linklater's Before Sunset.

Thanks to everyone who participated in the Send Tom To The Movies via The Democratic Process poll. After 4 comments and about 10 emails, Metallica: Some Kind of Monster it is (with 10 votes, 2 for LA Plays Itself, 1 for Bourne Supremacy, and one telling me to read two books I've already read.)

Off to the Sunshine with me (in the hazy gray afternoon). Thoughts forthcoming. Thanks for voting!

I need to get my lazy ass to the movies, but I've been pretty uninspired lately (my lame excuses are detailed below), so I decided to leave it to you, the members of the indieWIRE blog community, to decide for me! Ok, let's take a poll: Which film should I see this week and why? I will go see the film that gets the most votes.

Hey Tom, You should see....

a) Metallica: Some Kind Of Monster at The Sunshine
b) Los Angeles Plays Itself at Film Forum
c) The Bourne Supremacy at a Theater Near You
d) Early Spring at BAM
e) Free Radicals at Anthology Film Archives

One vote each in the Comments section, and please explain your vote...
I will blog my review of the winning film after I see it.

Ah vacation. I returned from a week on beautiful Lake Michigan and settled onto my couch to watch this week's episode of my favorite TV show, Six Feet Under, only to be utterly traumatized by one of the most riveting hours of television I have ever watched. This week's episode was extremely controversial, and if you haven't seen it, read no further, because theories and spoliers abound, but I have to discuss it, because I believe this episode was one of the most cinematic pieces of TV I have ever seen.

Here it is again.
It's that time of year when, having made the festival circuit in the winter and spring, I begin to look down the rows and rows of film titles online and in the paper, and chant that oh-so-familiar mantra:
"Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it."

Every month, the good folks over at BAM (that's the Brooklyn Academy of Music, for those who aren't familiar) work diligently to maintain one, sometimes two screens for their ever-impressive retrospective program, The BAM Cinematék. After last month's exceptional Village Voice Selects series, which is fast-becoming my favorite way to keep up with the previous year's forgotten gems, this month offers a re-examination of two of the finest retrospectives of the past year, the films of Rainer Werner Fassbinder (originally at Film Forum) and Yasujiro Ozu (originally at the Walter Reade.) These programs have been altered from their original runs, but the ideas remain the same. What is most exciting about re-visiting these films is not only the amazing quality and power of the work, but the friction between the two filmmakers, their styles, technique, and world views. The films of Fassbinder and Ozu are playing on back to back days, all month long. A Fassbinder on Tuesday, an Ozu on Wednesday-- the films creating a sort of dissonance for the viewer, taking us into and out of such different worlds. I mean, are there two films more different than Floating Weeds and Beware of a Holy Whore?

One of the most interesting e-mails I have received since my first piece of hate mail was a note from a reader of The Uncommon Sense that I received this afternoon. The highlights (spelling and punctuation are retained):

"You are another issue I pity you because your just to stupid to see the facts or really care about them.Your really need to take a hard look at what YOU are trying to sell. The problem is there are other people who read your article that think you know something. This takes us back to F-911 people watch this and think it is all fact. Triumph of the Will and Fahrenheit 911 are one and the same, creative pieces of propaganda presented in the form of entertainment. I suggest you find another job since you can't tell them apart from a real documentary."

Instead of responding to this note, it got me thinking about the way such anger and the urge to silence others is inspired by disagreement and the exercise of free speech. It is, after all, the 4th of July weekend. What better time to think about American identity, about who we are as a nation, and about how the act of defining ourselves as a people is ultimately a limiting, incomplete activity.

There is nothing like your favorite movie theater to welcome you back home. I had been out of the city for over a month to work on the film festival. It was great to escape the city for a while, but this time was also the first time I've been gone for so long and not wanted to come back. I was really enjoying being away from the recent spate of subway shootings, pushy people, the dysfunctional public transportation system. I had the beach, a bike, and all the time in the world to relax, unwind, and let the days unfold as they may. But the city, and my life, beckoned. I came back to New York City.

My second day back, after getting settled, I took the 2/3 from Park Slope and after a transfer that miraculously took no time at all, got off the 1/9 at Houston street and walked east to The Film Forum. This has become a sort of ritual for me. Whenever I return to New York from any amount of time spent away, I immediately go gorge myself on movies as a way of reminding myself why I love living here, why the city is essential to me. I grew up in the midwest, and despite what anyone will ever tell you about the abundance of creativity and the slew of options available for arts consumers in that part of the country, the reality is that finding a good art house cinema that consistently runs a challenging, interesting program is next to impossible. (If you happen to run one near Flint, MI-- please use the comments section below to correct me. I'll be back in a couple of weeks and will be in need of your services.)