Tortured I was mere moments ago by - count 'em - seven crash scenes so far, via Cronenberg movie CRASH, based on JG Ballard's novel. As You may recall Yours Truly was nearly exeunted by a drunk who decided to drive through the Middling City at a brisk 50 mph one night, and whizz through a light most sanguine.
If not for James Spader (aahh) the film is a complete visual fiasco, usual gray layerings that scream HiThisIsSo80s. Read the novel whilst in San Francisco and staying with an interesting assortment of people.
Movie last night, Time of the Wolf/ Temps du Loup, a Kennedy rec, was good. Visually arresting at moments and spare in terms of dialogue, the narrative moseys along at a deliberate pace. Wiping her just-kilt husband's blood from her cheek, Isabelle Huppert is still so Hot.
Gave JR his contraband, multi-packs of Marlboro Mediums. We have a meeting scheduled for tomorrow after the Collaborative Seminar, at which time I'll regale him with more travel tales, digvid shot in foreign lands, and oso much more.
All for now and over and out.
Medium Love.