the finer dandy

This evening, I just decided to put all my work aside and go to a screening of the Jonathan Demme-directed Rachel Getting Married (out in the Yay Area this Friday) starring Anne Hathaway as a girl who just got out of rehab who comes home to her sister’s wedding to spread more dysfunction amongst her family.

The movie has moments that are so poignant with emotion that the screen seeps tears and the Oscar buzz surrounding Hathaway is well deserved - but I am not going to write a review about the movie - I am going to tell you about my experience in going to the screening.

First off, going to movie screenings is always interesting for me. Herds of people wait in line for this and depending on what PR firm is in charge of the screening, I wait in line or I don’t. Tonight I had to wait in line, which I didn’t really mind - until I got to the entrance and was denied admission because the theater was full. A big WTF expression veiled my face as they said this. I thought to myself, “I did not just spend money on BART fare to come out to the city to get turned away from a movie screening!” But then, just when I was about to take off my earrings and smear Vaseline on my face to squab with the PR rep, a gentleman exited the theater and gratefully offered me his seat to the movie! It reinvigorated my faith in humanity - I was so happy! (remind me to pay that forward later).

I entered the theater and have never seen a theater as janky-ass as this one - it’s the one on Van Ness, tucked away in a shopping center. I never even knew it existed. To make matters worse, I only saw seats available in the very front. I sighed and just dealt with what I had.

Then, I realized how warm and nasty it felt in there. Usually, theaters are cool, if not ice cold. It was really stuffy up in that bitch and it reminded me of one of those small porno theaters (not that I ever been to one - I’ve only seen them in movies and such).

As the movie started, I thought I would get used to my front row seat, positioning my head at a near vertical angle to get VERY up close and personal with the poor excuse for a movie screen just to watch the movie - but then I realized Demme filmed this documentary-style with jerky movements and haphazard cuts that gave it that “cinéma vérité” feel. “Okay,” I thought. “It shouldn’t be THAT bad.” But by the time the movie was over, I felt sad and a little nauseous. Sad because the movie struck many emotional chords with me and nauseous because of my too-close-for-comfort seating and musky warmth of the theater.

Yeah, I know I shouldn’t complain because it was a FREE screening, but c’mon - they could’ve at least shown it in a decent theater. PLUS - it wasn’t really free for me if you consider the BART fare.

Speaking of BART, on the way home, I swear the Asian dude sitting next to me was farting up a storm. It was stinking up in there and he was trying to act like he wasn’t emitting foulness from his ass while playing with his iPhone.

BUT…it was all for the sake of my lovely Anne Hathaway. Oh how I love thee.