This post was written by Friday blogger Annie Reid.
Like you, I’ve been feeling a little Maud-lin lately. But she’ll be back soon. In the meantime, I present to you several super special exciting fantasy triple features, as sent in by particularly astute, clever, and/or neurotic readers.
Spike, my fave lady masseuse, recommends the following “Feral Children and Their Adults” Triple Feature:
Then our girl graceful, a California surfer chick fleeing from Chinese-American overacheivement, shares three “Films About Me”, a.k.a. “Fortune Cookie Triple Feature”, a.k.a. “Triple Happiness in Phoenix Nest”, a.k.a. “Crouching Tiger, Watching Movies”, with helpful commentary:
And now you can too, people. Oh, this one has a big fat cathartic weepfest at the end. Stock up on kleenex (TM) and cheap white wine.
And your NYC entertainment scout Adam Ash sends this in:
I’m talking Ingmar Bergman. The absence of God. The presence of the other. The enigma of the double. The pain of being-in-Being. I’m talking “The Silence,” “The Shame,” and “Persona.” An Everest of 20th Century Western Civ. Nary a whiff of the frivolous, the topical, the mereness of stuff, the banality of the quotidian. Only the formidable, gasping, gaping Now. The stubborn, hulking furniture of the interior.
The three B’s: brooding, brutal, bleak. Should you make it a Fantasy Quartet, and throw in “Cries and Whispers,” why, you’ve put yourself in the fatal harm’s way of an inexorable Nordic wringer. More than an aesthetic, moral or spiritual experience: an implosion of all thought and feeling. Art doesn’t come any Higher. If you survive and manage to finally escape into starlight or sunlight, for at least 24 hours everything — the world, your mind, people — will taste like Coca-Cola. Go for it. I dare you.
More? Drop me a line at annie at maudnewton dot com.