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I've much to give thanks for this year. The programmers who create the screenings and series I'm grateful to follow, cover and attend, cats like Bruce Goldstein at Film Forum, David Schwartz at Museum of the Moving Image, and John Woods, Caryn Coleman and Max Cavanaugh at the Nitehawk Cinema. The publicists and PR personnel, like Rachael Allen and Adam Walker at FF, Tomoko Kawamoto at MoMI, Austin Kennedy at the Film Society. The movie pals I'm richer for knowing and sharing the experience with, peeps like Will McKinley, Aurora, Joel Williams, Pamela Fallon Thornley, and Paula Guthat.
Well, Stockahz, one more strutting of Macy's inflated mascots looms yet again. As this November '15 winds to a close I must offer the following; THE HELL DID THIS YEAR GO?!?!? I mean, look, I know I routinely grump about time's increasingly rapid passage, it comes with the territory; getting on in age goes hand in hand with a nostalgia for things past, such as movies, therefore this website. But c'mon! C'MON! There's a point where it just gets plain ridiculous how fast the iCal's boxes gets highlighted. It doesn't help that one of the films that first made me a cinema fanatic is unleashing it's 7th iteration in about three weeks, which gives me ample and sometimes unwanted contrast with my 7-year old self. It is in this spirit that I face this upcoming December, and do my usual damndest to engage the curious, convince the lazy, and generally do my best to try and inspire, if not your attendance at a classic film screening, then at least your desire to talk about it. Don't mind me, I'll be okay once pitchers and catchers report in February.
I'm painfully aware that I've been remiss in my duties, having missed posting the daily Pick for days now. For what is surely never to be the last time the real interfered with the reel last week. And that's absolutely as it should be, but when it revolves around great heartbreak the response is never gratitude toward the fates. However, I do want to offer my gratitude, and tsunami levels of it, to all who took a moment to provide a measure of solace last week during my hard time. It reminds that a series of pixels need not be a cold batch of 1's and 0's. They can be every bit as friendly as a handshake, and every bit as warm as a hug. Thanks.