I’m one week away from my stem cell transplant, and after
three days of watching my blood move through the most unbelievably convoluted
machine I’ve ever seen in my life (do an image search for “stem cell apheresis
machine” if you’re curious), I was in need of a pick me up. Fortunately enough
I got two this weekend. And they’re both movie related.
First up was a trip to the theater Friday night to see
Quantum of Solace. Things started very badly. First we’re forced to sit in the
second row, to the far left (anyone who’s seen the over-cut, shaky-cam
extravaganza knows how headache inducing this was). Then the trailers started.
Trailer number four or five was for the latest Adam Sandler abortion, Bedtime
Now, I love trailers, but one of the most infuriating
moments of a filmgoing experience is the audience reaction to upcoming comedy
releases that are frightfully unfunny. When the majority of the audience loses
their shit to jokes that make me want to punch a kitten in the face, I…well, I
want to punch a kitten in the face. The Bedtime Stories trailer was jam-packed
with dumbass gags, and the monkeys in my jam-packed audience ate it right up.
But just when I was about to excuse myself to the bathroom
for a quick primal scream and projectile vomit, the trailer came to an end, and
the dope behind me said the cutest thing I think I’ve ever heard come out of an
adult’s mouth. One of the trailer’s kid friendly moments is a rain of gumballs,
and this man child waited until the theater went entirely quiet and blurted
“Wouldn’t it be awesome if it rained gumballs?”. Just like that I forgave the
entire audience, Adam Sandler, and wanted to give all my money to charity. Frankly
the film itself wasn’t even in the same stratosphere as Casino Royale, but I’ll
hold this memory close for the rest of my life.
The second story starts just as negative. On Saturday
afternoon I took a trip to Cryptic Magazine’s Crypticon, which took place about
two miles from my house this year. The guest list had started off great,
including Tom Savani and P.J. Soles, but when I got to the show I realized that
both stars had canceled. To top it off there were only five or six dealers, and
only one had anything good (I bought ‘Paura’, a collection of interviews
concerning Lucio Fulci).
The good news was that Doug Jones had joined the show late
in the game, and though I’m usually not big on autographs, I decided to talk to
the brilliant character actor based purely on the friendly demeanor he exudes
on every DVD interview I’ve ever seen. Jones went out of his way to talk to me,
and topped off the conversation with a hug. I hung around just long enough to
see him hug two other people. How’s that for pure lovability? John Saxon and
Bruce Campbell were sure to engage me when I met them, but a hug? That’s
service, man, and enough to warm even the most bitter and assholeish heart.
Thanks Doug, and thanks silly man-child, you’ve made me feel
good about life.