Tomorrow is my turn

Well, that's it, kiddies. Silt up the comments before we turn on the force field that protects them from the sallies of Cialis et al. I'm especially interested in reading more heart-stopping movie moments so I may reorder my queue accordingly.

A special thank you to Liz for embracing the idea of the Conversation over coffee on the last day of 2004. [As a fellow recovering academic, I am so with you about the vanishing text in Eternal Sunshine.] And to the three lovely gents--Aaron, Filmbrain, and David--you have all opened my eyes.

Some among you may have figured I was tipping my hand toward Before Sunset all along,
what with the constant references to Nina Simone lyrics in my post titles. That said, I'd like to bring this iteration of the Conversation to a close by making the following observation:

Both Aaron and David singled out what they thought was the same moment I had selected from Before Sunset. To be fair, your old pal the cinetrix took the Film Comment [hi, Gavin!] rules to heart and thus stuck to a positively Ezra Pound-style minimalist approach: one ambiguous sentence. Here's the thing: They actually identified half--the male half--of a pas de deux of mirrored anguished moments.

See, Celine reaches out to Jesse, too.

And with effusive air kisses from my side of the selective memory divide, I bid you a fond a bien tot on behalf of all our Conversationalists.

Just in time you’ve found me just in time
Before you came my time was running low
I was lost the losing dice were tossed
My bridges all were crossed nowhere to go
Now you hear now I know just where I’m going
No more doubt of fear I’ve found my way
For love came just in time
you’ve found me just in time
And changed my lonely nights that lucky day
Just in time

Before you came my time was running low oh baby
I was lost the losing dice were tossed
My bridges all crossed nowhere to go
Now you hear now I know just where I’m going
No more doubt of fear I’ve found my way
For love came just in time you’ve found me
just in time
And changed my lonely nights and changed
my lonely nights
And changed my lonely nights and changed
my lonely nights
And changed my lonely nights that lucky day

Comments

[Aaron]

(sigh) Of course you're right. They both reach out. But as that insecure boy on his first date not sure if his hand will get smacked away lives inside me still, I gave the male reading. Crap ... there goes all my feminist street cred.

[Matt]

I'd like to thank you Conversationalists for providing a wonderful alternative to the mainstream media's self-congratulating idea of film criticism. Indeed, I think enthusiasm for cinema won out this past week -- at least for those of us who were open to it. Personally, if it weren't for the Conversation, I doubt I'd be seriously re-evaluating my "best of" list for 2004 -- being forced, in a way, to write in some depth about Huckabees, which I loved before, has helped me realise that it might just be my favourite film of the year. For that alone [but not alone, if you get my drift], I am thankful.

A few moments from the past year in cinema that really did it for me:

Firstly, two of the great endings -- of all time, I mean; not just 2004 -- Joel and Clem running off along the beach [again and again] and Jesse and Celine sitting in the latter's flat: "You're going to miss your plane."/"I know." Two love stories that will go down in history as bona fide classics, I think.

Count Olaf cracks onto Aunt Josephine in A Series of Unfortunate Events, which I saw for a second time this evening. The way Carrey handles that pipe is just digusting. Another moment, from the same film, is the moment that he arrives on the boat: the way he says "Hello, hello, hello" should be enough to convince anyone that Carrey did more than play the fool in this picture; he's a genuinely threatening character. Albeit an idiot.

As many issues as I had with the film as a whole, the hilarious set-up/pay-off that had as much to say about celebrity -- not one-hundred percent deliberately either, I don't think -- as it did about how clever Soderbergh and the entire Ocean's 12 crew thought they were in daring it in the first place: Tess "playing" Julia Roberts. If I had to pick a moment, however, it'd be the shell-shocked hotel manager when he gets off the phone to her. [For the record, I also liked this film's final freeze-frame.]

The public bathroom scene of Kim Ki-duk's Samaria.

Though technically a 2003 film, the pizza delivery that gets held up by a religious cult/militant stateout in Jafar Panahi's Crimson Gold. Not to mention the whole film.

Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy: "Sky rockets in flight, afternoon de-light..."

The final scene of The Life and Death of Peter Sellers, when Rush [very deserving of his Golden Globe, by the way] shuts the trailer door on us: could have been the whole film, I swear.

The final scene of Huckabees in which Tommy and Albert excitedly compare findings. Whalberg's excitement at Schwartzman's affirmation of the fact that everything is connected is appealingly childlike in its nature -- indeed, the most optimistic picture of the year bar none. With the best music too.

"Go and knock yourself out..."