Film 8I sit in the darkening theater with the anticipation that the upcoming film is going to in some way better what I already know or expose a new curve of theme–love, death, karate, whatever–that’s never been exposed to me before.  The newness is in the simple and mundane, or seemingly simple and mundane, because the Byzantine “everyday” with its new hopes and crumbling frame and dust that’s getting built up and washed away is anything but simple or mundane.  It is, however, simple to overlook.

In the dark, sometimes continue reading…



Casablanca 8‘Casablanca’ begins with the entry credits overset on a map of Africa, music of a political fight accompanies.  Director Michael Curtiz gets his credit and then we hear this voiceover:

…And so a torturous, roundabout refugee trail sprang up.  Paris to Marseilles, across the Mediterranean to Oran, then by train or auto or foot across the rim of Africa to Casablanca in French Morocco.  Here, the fortunate ones through money or influence or luck might obtain exit visas and scurry to Lisbon, and from Lisbon to the New World.  But the others wait in Casablanca, and wait and wait and wait. continue reading…