Yes…that’s me and Jack Bauer. He kept me locked in a room for 2 weeks and questioned me about my involvement in a nefarious plot to overthrow the tiny country of Pottselvania with someone called ‘Borisandnatasha’. Fortunately, I was rescued by 2 agents code-named “Moose and Squirrel”. I asked Bauer to break one of my fingers so I could prove I was with him, but we were drinking at Cherry Cola’s and my fingers just bent back…wouldn’t break. You will just have to take my word for it.
=0=
I doubt the summer, or maybe the entire year, will provide me with another movie experience quite like the one I had last night with Cosmopolis, David Cronenberg’s new adaptation of one of Don Dellillo’s least-admired novels.
The movie itself is a challenging piece of work: largely taking place in the back of a spacepod-like luxury limo conveying Robert Pattinson’s soulless Wall Street billionaire-bloodsucker to a haircut on the other side of a riot-stricken Manhattan (nicely and not in any way unobviously played by Toronto), it plays out as a series of largely deadpan, abstract-theoretical exchanges between Pattinson’s dead-eyed uber-broker and various people who are briefly along for the ride.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 