One of the few good things about being laid off is free time to do things like attend screenings at the Tribeca Film Festival. This bum got to see 6 movies this week! Five of them were awesome, The Eclipse, Team Qatar, Timer, Rudo y Cursi and Moon. One sucked, Handsome Harry. Major flaws, repeated shots of John Savage's saggy pecs and nipples notwithstanding. Director Bette Gordon clearly has some sort of Freudian issue with wetnursing.
But days later, Timer, directed by first time lady director Jac Schaeffer and starring Buffy's brilliant Emma Caulfied, haunts me a bit. It's about people who get these biochemical devices that count down to the moment they meet their one true love, and then chime together when they are in each other's presence. Some meet really early, some have a long countdown, others are blank because their love hasn't gotten one yet. Lots of people don't get them for various reasons, and this fucks with those that have blank ones, always expecting too much out of their timer-less lovers. Some people get a fake one that has a countdown of a mere few months just to have casual sex. Hilarity ensues. But now I keep hearing about people falling in love, and wondering if THEIR proverbial Timer's went off. I keep thinking about people I have loved, and someone I have a big crush on. What if? I suddenly realize my Timer's been blank since high school.
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