From the backseat of a cab just outside of the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago.
Good to see Ian Curtis headlining again. I recently posted that I watched Control, the biopic about Joy Division. If you don't know Ian Curtis' story, there it is in all of its tragic beauty, according to a scribbler and film director, of course. There were several beautiful shots--all black and white. And when the music rumbled, specifically "Love Will Tear Us Apart," "Disorder," and the obvious closer "Atmosphere," everyone sat speechless (At least that's what I want to think. I want to think that everyone sat speechless. That everyone is capable of sitting speechless(ly) over the duration of a song or two). I caught a man in his mid to late 40s, who was sitting in front of me and three seats to the right, sobbing, sobbing, sobbing to an ending most people know who know Joy Division's music. I'm sure he knew the ending. I'm sure he knows the music and that's why he cries. Maybe he was crying for another reason. I wanted to pat him on the shoulder and say "Hey, don't cry. Bernard kicks ass, too. I bet you danced your ass off to Bizarre Love Triangle back in the day." But I decided not to, I let him be. To be honest, I had to fight back the waterworks. Between him, the music and the scene, who wouldn't?
O, but how the scenario changed, the vicissitudes of life at work. Guess who was tearing up a giant hot dog with everything on it at the concession stand as I shuffled out the theater? The thing was enormous. It looked like a flotation device. Relish reached the ceiling. The onions! The jalapenos, the ketchup! O praises for everything else buried beneath the teeth!
Life wasn't so bad for that guy, I thought. For one, how many people can afford a hot dog at a theater? For another, how many can laugh mightily with a group of good friends, all who are enjoying great-looking hot dogs (and nachos), after watching a (decent) movie about a band that created incredible music? All of us alive.