A Year in Theater Outings
Digesting every trip made to the cinema in 2024.
At the start of the year, one of my resolute goals was to attend as many film screenings as possible. I have never championed the idea that ‘film lives and dies by the cinema,’ nor have I ever been an overt streaming apologist. The truth is, the adaptability of any movie will vary. But there is something to the idea that most times, sitting in a crowded dark room is the purest experience you can have while interacting with a visual art.
In 2022, I named Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis the best film of the year. And it was. But when I popped in the 4K UHD Blu-Ray disc on New Year’s Day 2023, it occurred to me that the spirit of that film could only exist in the cinema. Elvis suffered the same immersion-thinning that Luhrmann’s previous film The Great Gatsby had in going to home media. Such an ambitious and bombastic film about an American icon could only be viewed on an enormous screen in an auditorium.
This past year, I encountered the opposite. There were several films I watched in the theater and then later at home that played far better on a television set. Two of these movies included Ali Abassi’s The Apprentice and Sean McNamara’s Reagan. The first film left me brimming as I emerged from the theater, while the latter didn't quite have the same effect. However, upon rewatching them in the comfort of my own home, my opinions on both improved.
That being said, there were movies I watched in 2024 that I just wouldn’t have had the patience for outside of the theater. They wouldn’t have clicked with me. I wouldn’t have ‘gotten it.’ And so I am grateful for my 39 outings to the cinema last year. I have kicked off 2025 with Brady Corbet’s The Brutalist.
The first picture I caught in 2024 was Yorgos Lanthimos’ 2023 release Poor Things. I watched this at a Regal theater. The screen was modestly sized but had a significant crease running down the center, with discolored scratches appearing as the DCP was projected onto it. Regal is not my favorite, but it is often a choice made out of convenience.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Diet Pepsi and received no refills.
Regal was also the home of my evening with Dune: Part Two. The screen was significantly larger this time and had no visible flaws. As I waited in line, the woman at the counter ahead of me asked if she could have a sandworm popcorn bucket. The chubby Latino boy at the register had to inform her that that was an AMC promotion, not Regal. Dune: Part Two is the most overrated movie of 2024. Like the Matt Reeves film The Batman, the most overrated film of 2022, my opinion of it has soured with each month passed.
I ordered popcorn and 1 Large refillable Diet Pepsi and received no refills.
The most impactful viewing experience of 2024 came in the form of a revival screening of Our Hitler: A Film From Germany. Film at Lincoln Center had announced a two-night 35mm screening of the Hans-Jürgen Syberberg picture from 1977. It would be shown in its designated four parts. This was the first time it had been screened in New York in 30-some-odd years. I missed the initial screening in early February, struggling to find anyone who wished to show their face at a 7.5 hour Hitler movie. Those tickets rapidly sold out. An encore presentation was scheduled for March 13 and 14, which I attended—alone. The Walter Reade Theater is small and well-kept. You could imagine just about any of your favorite New York podcasters seated there with an undersized bag of popcorn. I’d only visited once before, during the premiere of Michael Mann’s Ferrari for the 2023 New York Film Festival.
The actual turnout to the first part of Our Hitler was less than you’d expect for a sold-out encore. An older man sat one row ahead of me and, after ten minutes, realized what he was in for and cracked open a beer. By the thirty-minute mark, his head was crooked back and he was snoring. The second installment of Our Hitler tested my patience. It featured fewer dazzling visuals (the first's strength) and a more restricted production design. This kicked off the film’s leaning on performers delivering long anecdotes. The third part, on the night of March 14th, was the weakest of the four but at least got the movie back on track. Its final chapter was a proper bookend. It mirrored the first installment of the quartet, now concentrating on the repercussions of Hitler’s failed Reich — how the German spirit and its culture had been decimated by a self-inflicted gunshot, just (allegedly) like the man himself. Our Hitler: A Film From Germany was undeniably boring at times but all the same, it had some of the most captivating imagery and thought-provoking ideas I’ve ever seen in a film. The lack of fear in embracing the artifice of filmmaking is something that I greatly admire. We see little of it today. Everything is slick, ‘realistic’, and grounded. Sometimes just a stage and interesting lights are enough.
I ordered no snacks or beverages but smuggled in somewhere between two and four Prime energy drinks.
My next night at the cinema was an anniversary screening of Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion. I’d watched exactly 2 episodes of Neon Genesis Evangelion before being seated. Every film critic I respect has spoken highly of Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion and cited it as one of the great feats of animation. The visuals, even on a cheap Regal screen, were dazzling. But I can’t say I took away much from the movie itself. The number of episodes I’ve watched from that series has remained at 2.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
The last time I visited the Coolidge Corner Theater was in 2013. I was gifted tickets to an October screening of Tommy Lee Wallace’s Halloween 3: Season of the Witch. The Coolidge Corner Theater in Boston has one of the most beautiful interiors on the entire east coast. It is typically reserved for revival screenings and special events. Within the last two decades, they have expanded upon the building and opened what I would call ‘pocket’ theaters. I arrived somewhere between 6 and 12 minutes late for Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days and walked through the door of what felt like somebody’s bedroom. The screen was no taller than myself. There were approximately eight rows of seating. Couldn’t have been more than 30 chairs. My passing through the entrance lit up the room the way that one teacher popping into another’s classroom on ‘movie day’ might have back in grade school. As a mood piece, Perfect Days allowed me to tap back into a previously dormant feeling: being enamored with Japan. That morning I had suffered a mild medical scare. By the final credit roll, I wasn’t thinking about that. My only concern was finding a way to return to Shibuya.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
I planned Perfect Days as the first half of an unofficial Japanese double feature. The Coolidge Corner Theater was also playing a 35mm print of Nobuhiko Ôbayashi’s House that evening. I’d seen House on the big screen once before, ten years earlier, when The Brattle showed a dusty ‘70s print. Unfortunately, it was a little too dusty. The projectionist had to stop the movie after forty minutes due to an issue with one of the reels. We were forced to wait for an hour as they struggled to resume. This 2024 screening, however, went off without a hitch. It was staged in the primary theater (which looks like a gorgeous opera house) and was introduced by some mouthpiece for The Japan Society of Boston. The entire time he/she/they/it spoke, I kept thinking, “I’m much more knowledgeable on Ôbayashi, they should hire me to do this.” The audience for this screening got on my nerves. They were too eager to laugh at everything in the picture, whether it was intended as a joke or not. It made me feel irritated. I went for a nice walk after this and explored Brookline. It was my first time venturing around the area in years. A new contagion of homelessness plagued the busier strips. But, after almost a decade of putting up with New York City homeless, Boston homeless do not phase me. It’s like jumping from 28 Days Later to Night of the Living Dead. You can just walk around them.
I ordered no snacks or beverages, but smuggled in two breakfast sandwiches from Dunkin Donuts.
Late Night with the Devil was my most regrettable choice at the movies. I knew I would hate this film, just from the trailers. The 40 production company logos that preceded it felt like the beginning of Tim & Eric’s Billion Dollar Movie. I can’t believe I spent my Easter at Boston Common watching this lazy pile of garbage.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Diet Dr. Pepper and received 1 refill (of Diet Coke.)
Challengers snuck up on me. Luca Guadagnino had left me feeling cold. His interpretation of Suspiria was not my cup of tea and Bones & All was a surprisingly dumb movie. Yet, he’d earned enough respect out of me with Call Me By Your Name for another chance. The TV spots featuring Rhianna’s “S&M” became an earworm that I could not get rid of. I thought seeing the film in RPX might absolve that. And I was right. But not a week has passed where some other part of the soundtrack doesn’t creep into my head. Challengers is the most electric film since Trainspotting, pulsating from start to finish due to a high energy score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. In short, it blew me away.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Pepsi Zero Sugar and received no refills because I did not want to leave the theater.
Boston’s Alamo Drafthouse is in strong contention for one of my favorite movie spots. I booked a ticket to the hard-to-track-down Harmony Korine film Aggro Dr1ft. This was right after it had finished its tour of pubs and strip clubs. Showtimes were limited to one 10:30PM screening. Getting to Boston’s Seaport is not exactly convenient from where I reside. Like Perfect Days/House double feature, I decided to bide time with a B film. The movie I wound up catching was Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw the TV Glow. Going into the film, my opinion of Schoenbrun was not exactly high. I was put-off by her accusations of prejudice having fueled Betsey Brown’s Actors and Schoenbrun’s first feature We’re All Going to the World’s Fair was not what I would consider ‘enjoyable.’ But I Saw the TV Glow hit me at the right time. I had been up to my knees in revisiting Archive.org uploads of Nickelodeon’s SNICK, out of some disgusting millennial nostalgia. I was primed to catch all the nods to The Adventures of Pete & Pete and Are You Afraid of the Dark, and they did warm me to the film. I Saw the TV Glow had some of the strongest aesthetics to come out of 2024. I admire Schoenbrun for supplying that.
I ordered a spicy hamburger and 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 2 refills.
Later that evening I caught Harmony Korine’s Aggro Dr1ft. It did not impress me but I laughed several times. Chalk that up as a victory for Korine.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 3 refills.
The Fall Guy was my next feature. I bought a ticket right at the end of its theatrical run, and it was already available on streaming. Though I was tempted to settle for a pirated copy, I didn’t — and I was glad that I didn’t. You need to balance your ‘art cinema’ with films like this in order to keep up an appreciation for more common fair. The only other person in the theater for The Fall Guy was a thirty or forty-something year old man, alone, with a baby. Surprisingly, the baby didn’t cry once.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga was my first visit to Manhattan’s Alamo Drafthouse. Maybe it was just the theater that Furiosa was playing in, but this Alamo needed some work. The tables were immovable and placed outward, making them almost useless. People were hunched forward with their backs turned to their seatmates, attempting to eat comfortably. I had gotten stuck with a front-row seat — which, as a rule, isn’t too bad at the Alamo Drafthouse thanks to their reclining chairs — but it was unpleasant on this go-around.
I ordered a regular hamburger and 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 5 refills.
One of my most anticipated films of the year was Horizon: An American Saga - Chapter 1. I admire Kevin Costner’s attitude and ambition, but a cinema culture that looks forward to his flavor of auteurism is a clear sign that art is in a sad state. Horizon is Costner’s four-part, self-funded western epic. It had an opening installment that clocked in at 3 hours. The odds were strongly against this movie turning a profit, and the oddsmakers were proven correct. Horizon was such a flop that Warner Brothers, who’d spent a year promising Horizon 2 in August of the same year, pulled the rug out from Costner. It would yield success on streaming, but there’s still no word of the completed Horizon 2 seeing a release anytime soon. During my late night screening of Horizon (where I didn’t see the exit until almost 2:30AM), there were only four others in attendance — including a father and daughter and two geriatrics who didn’t make it to the two-hour mark without snoring.
I ordered popcorn and 1 Large refillable Pepsi Zero Sugar and received 2 refills.
Kinds of Kindness was my second Yorgos Lanthimos trip to the cinema this year. This one resonated with me much better than Poor Things, though I enjoyed both features. The humor in Kinds of Kindness struck me as an improvement and a return to comedic form for Lanthimos.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Blow Out was a July 4th treat to myself. Truly impeccable timing, considering shots would be taken at President Donald Trump not long after. One of my favorite things about Brian De Palma is that it’s impossible not to retrieve something new when revisiting his works. Blow Out was no exception. Watching vintage De Palma is like downing a bottle of creative Gatorade. That being said, the Coolidge Corner Theater, I am almost certain, attempted to pull the wool over my and the audience’s eyes by promising a 35mm screening and not delivering. What appeared to be projected was a digital scan of a 35mm print. I wandered around Boston after the movie to see the fireworks. The Uber ride back to my homebase was four times the amount I’d typically pay, due to the holiday. Thank you to other founding fathers for putting me out $90 on a 25 minute ride.
I ordered 1 Large Diet Coke and a small popcorn.
On the topic of Brian De Palma, I visited the Braintree, Massachusetts AMC to see Ti West’s latest joint Maxxxine. Though I’m a fan of West, I was not remotely enthralled with X or Pearl. I only went because I was in the area and had fond memories of the Braintree AMC. It was one of my go-to hideouts when cutting days of high school. One day in 2008, I did a triple feature there of Iron Man, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and Harold & Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay. (Of course, being the delinquent I was, I only paid for Iron Man.) Besides having recent run-ins with crossdressing child stabbers, the AMC in Braintree has fallen. I came out of my time there with a list of complaints. Only a few of the soda machines worked, the trash cans were literally overflowing with garbage, the reclining chairs didn’t work, and the auditorium that was projecting Maxxxine reeked of human expulsion. But, hey—the movie turned out to be pretty enjoyable. I’d consider that a win.
I ordered popcorn and 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 1 refill.
Longlegs… I sensed disappointment in the air on my walk to the theater and, boy, was I right. An unremarkable theatergoing experience. What could have been.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Something abnormal got into me and, on a whim, I felt compelled to see Deadpool & Wolverine. If you’ve been a listener of my weekly audio program //MOVIES - A Podcast About the Act of Cinema, then you know that I am no fan of Marvel or Disney. I have abstained from just about all of their releases since 2014, with the exception of Avengers: End Game and Spider-Man: No Way Home. To my surprise though, I had a great time at the movies seeing Deadpool & Wolverine. I laughed more than I expected. Yeah, there were Funko Pop collectors in the audience. One of them gasped when Hugh Jackman put on his Wolverine mask at the end. But what does it matter? Even perpetual losers are entitled a victory every once in a while.
I ordered popcorn and 1 Large refillable Pepsi Zero Sugar and received no refills.
Trap reminded me why I hadn’t shown up for an M. Night Shyamalan movie in fifteen years. I couldn’t believe how stupid it was. But M. Night, if nothing else, ensures an enjoyable time regardless of quality. I do appreciate him for that reason. But my viewing could have been anchored to streaming.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Alien: Romulus was my first IMAX trip of the year. My date and I visited a Showcase Cinema in Massachusetts for a late night screening of the film. The lobby of the theater was a mess and gave me flashbacks to my time at the Braintree AMC. The movie also started with the theater lights still on. I had to exit and inform the manager before losing my temper and spoiling the night. To add to that, the man sitting two rows ahead of me had brought his pregnant girlfriend or wife to the picture and was vaping during the coming attractions. When she got up to use the bathroom, he immediately opened Snapchat and started looking at big round asses of every color. Luckily, these troubles were an anomaly. The theater has met my expectations of quality on every subsequent visit. Alien: Romulus looked great, but didn’t reinvent the wheel. I’ve already forgotten at least half of it.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Caligula, on its own, is a movie that is rich with character. Some may argue it is trash, others porn, but I consider it a masterpiece of late 20th century cinema. The 3-hour length Caligula: The Ultimate Cut was showing only once, at 10:00AM, at the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn. It’d been a curiosity of mine since it was first announced years ago. I can pleasantly report that the Brooklyn Alamo is much better than the Manhattan one. But on the flip side, Caligula: The Ultimate Cut, though terrific, does not usurp the camp memorability of the original. The performances, writing, and editing are a massive improvement… but what is succeeded by strictly turning Caligula into a conventionally good movie? It was considered explosive because it was genuinely controversial. It was remembered because it was so original. The wings of Caligula were clipped by reducing it from ‘an event in movie history’ to just simply a great film.
I ordered a breakfast sandwich and 1 refillable coffee.
I detailed my experience watching Reagan in my last written piece, “The American Right and Cinema: What Keeps Going Wrong?” One proud American stood up and clapped at the freeze-frame conclusion of Dennis Quaid as Ronald Reagan on a horse. Throughout the film, I got up to use the bathroom when I didn’t have to. I have never done this during a movie before.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Not dissimilar to my time with Reagan, I also attended another long shot for enjoyment: Kevin Smith’s The 4:30 Movie. I had the lowest of expectations when I bought my ticket. Mind you, I also approached Clerks 3 with the same mentality and came away mostly pleased. The 4:30 Movie started prospective, aping a favorite of mine - Breaking Away. Smith’s dialogue between the protagonist and his love interest hit decent beats. It almost felt like old Kevin Smith writing. But the momentum sadly could not be sustained. It turned into the same cameo-fest as Jay & Silent Bob Reboot. One man in the theater, like the clapper during Reagan, made sure to emote at every single joke. I am confident he had Autism.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, unlike the last two films, was a pleasant surprise. Michael Keaton is one of my favorite actors and like many mid-generation millennials, I grew up on Tim Burton’s filmography. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice avoided the legacy sequel trope of soft-remaking the original and thus, provided me a great time at the cinema. I believe I purchased a cherry-flavored Icee during this feature. I have been ardent at avoiding sugar as often as possible but broke here, and remembered why I don’t do Icees anymore.
I ordered a medium popcorn and 1 Large Icee.
I am extremely skeptical of any critical praise that comes out of the horror genre these days, but I made an exception for The Substance. A movie starring Demi Moore and Dennis Quaid hitting mainstream cinemas? In 2024? I can’t pass that up. Hell, I didn’t pass that up when it came to Reagan (and I paid the price.) I had such a good time with this flick. Its soundtrack is only second to Challengers for best original music this year.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Pepsi Zero Sugar and received no refills.
Megalopolis. The film that divided friends and families and made us redefine the words “Good” and “Bad.” I caught this at a proper IMAX screening in New York City and was so glad that is how I saw the movie. The visual effects are what I would consider screen-sensitive. Like Elvis, mentioned earlier, Megalopolis is designed to play on the biggest screen possible—not to be watched on streaming. Those who take jabs at Megalopolis are stuck looking down a narrow scope. It’s not that the movie is bright. It’s not that it has something interesting to say. It’s not that it’s a meticulously crafted piece and without flaws. In fact, it’s very simple. We, as an audience, forgot what movies were supposed to be and Francis Ford Coppola didn’t.
I ordered 1 Large Diet Coke.
To say that Jason Reitman’s track record has been spotty would be an understatement. Saturday Night felt like a movie designed for streaming that had been taken to the big screen. Kudos to the AMC in Lincoln Square for not having anyone on staff around the concessions. It allowed me to fill my empty Dunkin Donuts cup with Coke Zero. Hopefully my date didn’t pick up any ‘poor person’ vibes off of that.
I ordered no snacks or beverages, but did use the soda machine.
Joker: Folie à Deux, like Megalopolis, I caught in IMAX. Also like Megalopolis, this movie left people upset and scratching their heads. From the opening animated segment mirroring Warner Brothers cartoons of the 1940s to the disappointing and vague ending that kills off Arthur Fleck and offers a confusing nod (or opening) to Heath Ledger’s Joker… Joker: Folie à Deux was a lightning rod for conversation. Personally, I liked it — but I only liked it just enough.
I ordered 1 Large Diet Coke and a medium popcorn.
As the 2024 election approached and the presidential frontrunner had just taken a bullet, I felt drawn to one specific movie: Ali Abassi’s The Apprentice. And so, I decided to treat my mother to a matinee. I didn’t enjoy watching Ray Cohn’s gay orgy with her seated right next to me. But hey, she had a good time.
I ordered no snacks or beverages.
Until this year, I was not a fan of the Terrifier franchise. I had felt that the earliest installments had a cheap look and vibe to them—maybe because they were cheap. Terrifier 2 wowed audiences and cross-pollinated into cultural circles that I didn’t expect it to. I tried to brush that off. But as I left the theater for The Apprentice, I actually noticed several children and adult men in Art the Clown t-shirts that were lined up. This was something that, at the time, I just didn’t understand. But OK, OK — my attention was drawn. The third Terrifier, a Christmas feature, I viewed as an outlet to break up my time and avoid feelings of stagnancy in Massachusetts. The theater projected Terrifier 3 on a huge screen and in giving the gorefest my undivided attention, I was able to see what others had—finally. Through that, I became a fan of what Damien Leone was doing. He was creating a way out. He taught himself how to handle the most visually elaborate aspects of a horror production and learned to become a writer/director along the way. Terrifier 3 is his best work.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 2 refills.
The Exorcist is one of the best and most important American films ever made. In spite of the last couple of decades of movies and art brainwashing crowds that there is no ‘black and white’, only ‘gray’, The Exorcist is a timeless and necessary reminder that evil does exist. For 50 years, William Friedkin vetoed every and any opportunity for 35mm prints of The Exorcist to be shown. Unfortunately (or in this case, fortunately) Friedkin passed away last year. The Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn had acquired a rare 35mm print of the original 1973 theatrical cut. Most copies of The Exorcist that you’ll find passed around on physical media and streaming emphasize an edition called “The Version You’ve Never Seen” — often mislabeled a director’s cut. The Exorcist: The Version You’ve Never Seen was an expanded re-edit released in 2000 at the request of Warner Brothers and screenwriter William Peter Blatty. A tiny, charming Asian lesbian presented the film, explaining how the print was obtained. Unlike the Japan Society of Boston’s orator during House, she knew how to keep it brief. The print had suffered to time and developed a pink-purple coat. Strangely, seeing this movie that I’ve loved and obsessed over for twenty-five years on the big screen did nothing for me. You can, indeed, get to know a movie too well.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 4 refills.
My dear friends Hans Lam and Darius “D.C.” Csiky visited New York in November to aid in my second feature film Disorderly. As luck would have it, principal photography on the movie coalesced with the premiere of Ralph Sepe Jr.’s new short film Whispers in Shadows. For the uninitiated, Ralph Sepe Jr. or “RalphTheMovieMaker” is a YouTuber-cum-director who has released several short films and one feature called Lover. Over the last year and a half, Sepe Jr.’s work has become a recurring topic on my talk program //MOVIES — frequently bouncing between mockery, confusion, and admiration. Whispers in Shadows was sandwiched between other shorts as part of the New York Short Film Festival, conducted at Cinema Village. Admittedly, we went to the screening as trolls to report back and give our reviews (which we did.) But Whispers in Shadows showed a mild evolution in Sepe Jr.’s directing. It was a lot of fun to watch with a crowd and easily the best of the four shorts presented that night.
I ordered 1 Large Diet Pepsi.
The trio of Hans, D.C., and I hit the cinema again as principal photography on Disorderly waged on. Clint Eastwood’s latest and very likely final film Juror #2 was just about to conclude its limited theatrical run. Throughout the week, D.C. had made subtle and not-so-subtle nods to the three of us giving it a watch. I’m a fan of Eastwood, but there was little interest on my part to see this movie. However… we had one late night available and D.C.’s time on the shoot was winding down. Why not? The audience for Juror #2 was spotty but better than you’d expect for a 10:30PM weeknight showing. When the ‘Malpaso’ production logo came up on the screen, DC and I applauded. In hindsight, that may have been the strongest part of the movie. Don’t get me wrong, it wound up being a blast because of the surprisingly low caliber of writing and acting. At one point, Hans, having grown frustrated with the movie’s conveniences, threw his hat on the floor.
I ordered 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 3 refills.
Gladiator II… one of the downright stupidest movies I’ve seen this year. And that says a lot, having followed Juror #2. Here’s the thing though: I like Ridley Scott’s stupid modern movies. I like them even more than his “good” movies from the ‘70s and ‘80s. I ordered a Diet Pepsi at this screening but I am pretty sure I received a regular Pepsi. My reclinable chair also stunk like nacho cheese and ass any time I leaned back in it. Everybody got to recline and watch the movie, besides me. Very troubling experience.
I ordered 1 Large Diet Pepsi (but was given Pepsi.)
www.RachelOrmont.com is Peter Vack’s second film. It has yet to receive wide distribution but has popped up for special event screenings in New York over the last couple of months. I’ve been extremely curious about this movie, since it arguably gave birth to the current incarnation of Dimes Square. Also, a number of my friends and peers (and when I say ‘peers’ I mean people 10 years younger than me) are featured in the cast as audience members — most notably the talented young actor Page Garcia. I don’t like the Roxy as a venue. The hotel is beautiful but the theater feels ‘too smart’ to be average. The lobby was pure chaos. There were no fountain soda machines. I think I paid $6 for a bottle of Diet Coke. www.RachelOrmont.com is a very interesting movie. It features one of the best performances of the year, given by its star Betsey Brown. I will have more to say on it later. But I did not stick around for the filmmaker Q&A afterward.
I ordered 1 bottle of Diet Coke.
Boston’s Alamo Drafthouse became my home away from home by the end of 2024. I parked it there for another double feature, a day before Christmas Eve. The first film of the evening was Luca Guadagnino’s second release this year Queer. I’m not especially a fan of William S. Borroughs, or Daniel Craig, or the band Nirvana — but the movie scraped by. The theater was colder than usual and I found myself making a tent in my seat (don’t get any ideas) using my jacket. During the film, I requested a meal from the Wicked-themed menu. They brought me a chicken wrap, per my order. Ten minutes later they tried to bring me another chicken wrap, which I did not order. I had to whisper very loudly, “I did not order this.” Somehow, this mistake warranted comping my first and actual chicken wrap order. I only paid for my Diet Coke and wound up saving $21. Thanks. (Please don’t go out of business.)
I ordered a Wicked-themed chicken wrap and 1 Large refillable Diet Coke and received 2 refills.
Eyes Wide Shut was my last revival screening of 2024. It was the second time I’d ever seen a Stanley Kubrick film on the big screen. The first was A Clockwork Orange in 2013 at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts. That was an important screening at 22-years-old and helped to provide an internal clarity on how to complete my first novel. But just like my time watching The Exorcist in 35mm, I didn’t take away anything new from this outing. I’ve seen Eyes Wide Shut at least 30 times since first catching it on HBO during New Year’s Eve 1999. That was a formidable time, Y2K, as the movie taught me that women, too, grow pubic hair. An hour into this screening at the Alamo Drafthouse, a gay man approached me—a staff member. He lowered his head in to mine and immediately forgot what he was going to ask. And so there I was, bent forward, just about cheek to cheek with this gentleman who was breathing heavily and trying to remember what he came over to ask me. Three or four seconds felt like a whole fucking minute. Eventually, this man blurted out, “Do you have a question? One of the other workers here said you had a question to ask me.” And I said, “Uh, no, buddy. I don’t have a question.” And then he left.
I ordered a Grapefruit White Claw and 1 Large refillable Coffee and received 1 refill.
Nosferatu was a poignant close for a year in theatergoing experiences. A pale man with a mustache and distinct voice wanting to inflict pain and disease onto Nicholas Hoult. He’s literally me. That man and his childish face were inescapable this year. This was a matinee screening at an upscale Showcase Cinemas with a Starbucks inside. Because it was an early morning screening, I needed a strong coffee. To the movie’s credit, at no point was I tempted to shut my eyes and sneak a nap. I enjoyed the film but I don’t think my positive opinion on Nosferatu will sustain itself. Maybe, like most movies, I’ll just forget all about it.
I ordered a Large Americano with skim milk.
Good piece