I don't usually take time out of what I normally do here at Cinema Styles to relate current events in my life but this recent episode in my life is bizarre, almost surreal. Some friends and I (six of us to be exact) were invited by another friend to come over one night and watch The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie by Luis Bunuel. Naturally we accepted, excited for the chance to watch it together. Oddly though, when we arrived, our host, Sophie, told us we were mistaken and it was the next night. This couldn't be true I protested, I'm busy tomorrow night and I wouldn't have accepted if it were then. We left dejected and depressed.Fortunately we found a theatre, the Cabaret Voltaire showing it later that week. What a stroke of luck! When we arrived however, it was locked. Damn! The usher, Hugo, let us in but the movie wasn't showing. The manager had died and his body was laid out in the lobby awaiting a coroner. Eeeewwww. We got the hell out of there as fast as we could.
We finally settled on a date that we were all absolutely sure of and met at Tristan's house to watch. He just recently became a father so we all call him "Dada" now. Anyway, Dada had the DVD all set to go when a group of military thugs led by two guys named George and Dick came storming in and shot everything up. They even shot the television. Son of a bitch!
Finally, FINALLY, we met at Jean's (or was it Hans, I can't be sure) and were set to go. I picked up the remote to start the movie and it seemed a little light. The damn thing was made of cardboard - and so was the television! They were just props! Then a curtain goes up and, Jesus Christ almighty we're on a stage! If my pants hadn't been down I wouldn't have minded so much
(hey I was hot, okay).
Ah screw it! We're never going to see that damn movie. Then Marcel says, "Hey why don't we just start walking down this road." "Where to?" I ask. "Maybe it's playing somewhere down there," he answers. So we just started walking. Still haven't seen it anywhere. Anybody know how it ends?
