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| Arabian Dating! |
CRAIG KIRSCHNER Oscar The feature is finis. The dim lights come up. The audience sloughs to the exits. My movie, always ending, skin and hair, all those cells that leaving make us new every seven years, becomes part of an endless population of scurrying crowd, swept up candy wrappers, exiting coupes, of seats being refilled. The sequels while technically more sound, seem to die quicker. There is a smell of stale popcorn. The crowd led now by orange floor lights seems tentative, lost, strangely morose, as though this new feature, including the edit on the cutting room floor, while part of all great cinema, will not be winning this year's awards. pristine by candle light The miracle of life and its peculiarities can wake one in the middle of the night. Like a dream freezing itself solid, its magnificence, its mass, crystallizing, day by day, year by year, can thaw as sudden as a summer storm, and yet the majesty remains, to kindle like the mystery of flame, to leap gelatinous heat, consume the air we breathe, to conceive absurdities of histories and Hell.
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