"As a rough rule, cinema can be sundered into two halves: six-o'clock films and nine-o'clock films. Most movies are nine-o'clock affairs, and none the worse for it. You get home from work, grab something to eat, head to the theatre, and enjoy the show. And so to bed -- alone or entwined, but, either way, with dreams whose sweetness will not be crumbled or soured by what you saw onscreen. A six-o'clock movie requires more organization: prebooked tickets, a restaurant table, the right friends. You're going to need them, because if it all runs according to plan you will spend the second half of the evening tossing the movie -- the impact and the substance of it -- back and forth. So Persona is a six-o'clock movie, thought it won't leave you with much of an appetite. As is The Deer Hunter, whereas Platoon, for all its sound and fury, works fine for nine-o'clock. The Reader is a nine-o'clock movie that thinks it's a six-o'clock. Groundhog Day is the opposite. And The White Ribbon? A six-o'clock movie, if ever I saw one."
- Anthony Lane, digressing from discussing the films of Michael Haneke in Happy Haneke in The New Yorker's 10/5/09 issue
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Listening to: Gemma Hayes - All The Way Down
via FoxyTunes
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