And now, for no real reason, some random pictures from the last few months:
Apparently George Lucas lives in my neighborhood now? (And likes to write on bathroom doors in bars?)
Hey, it’s Wednesday, so you need a cute dog video, right?
Holy shit, what has happened to my blog? What has happened to me? Has it really come to this? Am I that banal?
On the other hand, this video is pretty goddamn cute:
Further evidence that I have become The Worst: When I went to YouTube to find that link, my suggested videos (based on my viewing history) included: a scene from Star Wars (“Stormtrooper Hits Head on Door”), a clip from The Room, a Spoon video, and something called “Arnold Schwarzenegger Fitness Express Intro,” which I am totally going to watch right now because that sounds amazing.
I’m at the point in my life where it should really stop being shocking when things suddenly become “old.” Once you blow past your twentieth high school reunion, everything is marked by decades (“Can you believe [thing] is almost forty?!”). That said, I feel slightly uneasy at the thought that Pulp Fiction was released twenty years ago today.
Seeing Pulp Fiction for the first time was one of those special moments when a work of art leaves an indelible impression on you. I was just five days shy of my 19th birthday – still a baby! — when I walked up the street from my parents’ apartment to the shiny new movie theater that had opened over the summer.* It’s still there, although now it’s a sad, second run theater that hosts church services on Sunday mornings. In 1994, though, it was the place to be, and on a Saturday afternoon, I sat alone in a completely sold out theater — the first time I’d ever dared to go to a movie alone, in fact — and absolutely lost my mind. I vividly remember thinking, “I’ve never seen anything like this.” I went back over and over again, taking everyone I could: friends, family members, co-workers. I was an evangelist for the Pulp Fiction experience.
I think I saw Pulp Fiction in the theater eight or nine times. This seems crazy in retrospect, but it was a different time — the movie continued playing in our local theater for something like six months, which is unheard of in these days of instant, on-demand video. And I was a different person then. You obsess over things when you’re 18-going-on-19.
Now that I’m 38-going-on-39, I feel a little different. I still love Pulp Fiction, but not with the same passion that I did when I was in my twenties. More and more with each passing year, my favorite Quentin Tarantino movie is actually Jackie Brown, a movie about regret, mortality, and dwindling opportunity. Which sounds depressing, but I think is just a good example of how we (and our tastes) grow and evolve over time.
18 year old me will never forget the heady, exhilarating rush of seeing Pulp Fiction for the first time, though. Nitehawk Cinema is holding 20th anniversary midnight screenings this weekend, and I may try and go to one, although I will probably need to be drunk for the experience. It’s like time travel.
Then again, the last 20 years have been way tougher on John Travolta than they have on me, so I don’t know what I’m worried about.
Bonus content! A Vulture roundup of critical reaction from when Pulp Fiction was unleashed upon the world.
* – Super embarrassing trivia: The first movie I saw there was The Crow, and I thought it was so awesome.
Hey, Happy Columbo Day, everyone. I hope you took a moment out of your busy day to try and trick someone into confessing to a murder. Or yelled, “j’accuse!” at someone. Not because Columbo ever did that, but simply because it’s ALWAYS hilarious.
I don’t really have much new to say on the subject of Columbo this year, so in lieu of some nonsense about how great the John Cassavetes episode is (seriously, it’s awesome), please enjoy this Last Week Tonight with John Oliver video entitled “Columbus Day – How Is That Still a Thing.” Lazy blogging, yes, but unlike some people I had to work today. Because this isn’t a real holiday.
Note: This Pumpkin Spice rant is also really worth your time:
Nerds, it wouldn’t be Halloween without Vincent Price being an urbane mustachioed creep and scaring small children. In that spirit, I’m delighted to present to you a glorious piece of VHS ephemera from my childhood: Creepy Classics, a compilation of clips and trailers from (presumably public domain) horror movies of the 50’s and 60’s hosted by Vincent Price himself (your “Master of Scarimonies”). I don’t know much about the video save for the fact that it was either sold or given away free with purchase at Hallmark stores circa 1987. I do remember watching it over and over again with my brother when we were kids, likely because it was the most I could handle, horror-wise. Plus, who doesn’t love Vincent Price?
(It’s not a rhetorical question; the answer is “assholes.”)