66 San Diego Reader February 25, 2016


MOVIES


story from their point of view invited me, as a civilian, inside of it. I was no longer able to just sit on the outside and be fascinated or disgusted by war. I was becoming them, because I know the feeling of having a wife and three kids and not being able to connect with them because of a broken phone connection. It became an emotional window for civilians to see inside the story. At the same time, as a citizen, I felt it was important to show that the decision to go to war has con- sequences not only for the soldiers, but also all of these other people, the relatives and families and friends. We are all affected deeply by what we see, by what we hear, and by who is re- turning. And the few films I’ve seen where we do spend time with the wife or family, often, we’ll see the spouses portrayed as victims. As not knowing what’s going on. But in my research, I saw spouses who had been married to soldiers for years. They knew exactly what the job was. They were part of the conversation. They were strong and independent women who knew what was happening and knew the life that they had chosen. I felt we needed to be loyal to that, and give some attention to these soldiers’ home lives. ML: You don’t make things overly com- fortable to watch: everyone has claims on the viewer’s sympathy. TL: I knew a soldier who was a witness for a case in Denmark; he introduced me to some of the other guys who had served on a patrol where some- thing went wrong. They had all been questioned about it in Afghanistan, and upon coming home, they under- stood that the version of events they had given was being used to build a case against one of their friends. And one of them changed his story; it was obvious that he did. I asked my friend about that, and he said, “Listen, we


Patrons were wise to place kitty litter over their nostrils to help filter the per- vasive stench of urine, and no evening screening would be complete without the sound of at least one kicked-over wine bottle noisily making its way down the raked, uncarpeted floor. What did people think three-quarters of a dollar was going to buy them? The marquee didn’t entice patrons


in with, “Bernie Bertolucci’s Last Tango in Paris” the night of my fourth view- ing of the then-scandalous sex drama starring Marlon Brando. The film was on its last legs; there couldn’t have been more than 20 patrons in attendance, including a curious married couple parked four seats to my right. Tango was filmed in both French


Gods of Egypt: Cool glow-in-the-dark action!


are trained to never leave a friend behind. Our training is basically all about saving the guy next to you. The politicians decide who the enemy is; they can send me anywhere, and I’m going to do my job. I don’t care if the government is the enemy; I’m never going to leave a friend behind.” That feeling of loyalty was a human feeling that I could relate to. I’m not defend- ing it, but I understood it. I’ve played a lot of soccer in my life, and for the 90 minutes of the game, I’m willing to do anything for the other 10 guys on my team. Suddenly, it wasn’t about these violent individuals that only care about helping each other out; it was about guys who did what they had been trained to do. And I have to tell you about going


to an Afghan refugee camp in Turkey and talking to a family there. I’m the father of three young children, and I was hearing from these young children who had escaped war on a donkey’s back during the night — going through


the mountains, going anywhere, and ending up in this camp. I was see- ing them with hope in their eyes still as they talked about how they were happy and how they hoped the Danish and English and American troops in Helmand province succeeded in their work so they could go home and be secure. That changed my perspective. I was talking to the most vulnerable civilians I could find, and they still had an idea — probably given to them by their parents, but nevertheless — that there was hope for a future in their country because of this war. It made me think twice about my easy judg- mental thoughts on the war. [More on The Big Screen at sandi-


egoreader.com.] — Matthew Lickona


ONCE I WAS BLIND AND NOW I CAN SUE Variety reports that a group of seven blind people filed a class action law- suit last week against AMC Theatres,


FILM FESTIVALS


CITY HEIGHTS RECREATION CENTER 4380 Landis St., City Heights


with Detroit autoworkers who were active in the League of Revolutionary Black Workers in Detroit in the 1960s and 1970s. The protagonists speak about capitalism, socialism, Black libera- tion, workers’ power, and revolution. CERSC is the publisher of Haymarket Books and the International Socialist Review, as well as the organizer of the annual Socialism Conference. Thursday, February 25, 6:00pm


COLE LIBRARY 1250 Carlsbad Village Dr., Carlsbad


Finally Got the News The San Diego Branch of the International Socialist Organiza- tion hosts, part of a nationwide fundraiser for the Center for Economic Research and Social Change. A documentary film with interviews


The Princess Bride A man reads The Princess Bride to his ill grandson who prefers adventure to a love story. The story centers on Buttercup (Robin Wright), who is to wed a prince though she still laments the death of Westley (Cary Elewes). She is kidnapped by bandits but will she follow her heart? Will the grandson appreciate the story? Made possible in


part by the Carlsbad Library and Arts Founda- tion’s Robert H. Gartner Cultural Endowment Fund. Wednesday, March 2, 6:00pm


Young Frankenstein A neurosurgeon (Gene Wilder) inherits the castle of his grandfather, the famous Dr. Frankenstein, with its odd and funny staff. Young Frankenstein discovers the book of the mad doctor’s reanimation experi- ment and believes he could make it work and clear the family name. Wednesday, March 9, 6:00pm


Waiting for Guffman The town of Blaine, Missouri is putting on an amateur show about the town’s history. The director invites a famous theater critic, Mr. Guffman, to see the opening night of the show. Convinced a good review will get them a place on Broadway, the minimally talented cast and crew give it their all and expect big things. Wednesday, March 16, 6:00pm


MANDEVILLE AUDITORIUM AT UCSD 9500 Gilman Dr., UCSD


La Jolla Symphony & Chorus Steven Schick conducts a multi-media concert event featuring dancers, chorus, soloists, and film with orchestra. The program begins with Michael Gordon’s “Gotham,” an evocative symphonic and cinematic depiction of New York City at the turn of the last century, written as a joint produc- tion between the composer and filmmaker Bill Morrison. On the second half is Igor Stravinsky’s melodramatic work for orchestra, “Persephone,” that depicts the story of the Greek goddess Perse- phone with dancers, narrator, soloist, orchestra, and adult and children’s choruses. Alice Teyssier narrates the tale, John K. Russell is tenor soloist. Pre-concert lecture by Steven Schick one hour prior to concert times. Saturday, March 12, 7:30pm, Sunday, March 13, 2:00pm


alleging the chain violated the Ameri- cans with Disabilities Act by “failing to provide properly functioning audio description technology.” Back in 1973, movie theaters didn’t


offer amenities such as assisted listen- ing devices, and visually or hearing impaired patrons were simply asked to bring a friend. Chicago’s Bryn Mawr Theatre was


a fourth-run grindhouse — 75 cents for a double-feature — located directly under an elevated train platform on the city’s North side. Like it or not, every film that played the single-screen hell- hole was presented in glorious bursts of Sensurround every ten minutes or so. The booker clearly had taste, but the nincompoops that managed the joint were responsible for countless marquee howlers — most notably, “Fred Fellini’s Amarcord.” You think cell phones are a dis-


traction at the movies? At the Bryn Mawr, it was not uncommon to see rats scamper across the bottom masking.


and English. Everything was peachy until the subtitles hit the screen. In a voice that made Jeremy Irons sound like one of Monty Python’s Gumbys, the husband began reading aloud every word printed across the bottom of the frame, including all of the graphic dialogue exchanges. Admittedly, for ten minutes I was biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, but this was Bertolucci, not Bronson, and eventually displeasure needed to be expressed. Leaning forward in my seat, I


politely asked, “Could you please stop...” before stopping myself. The image of his wife wearing sunglasses burns bright to this day. “I’m sorry,” the husband whispered, “but my wife is blind.” Of all the cinemas in all the


towns in all the world, she has to sit in my row. My initial perplexity at the thought of a sightless person attend- ing a movie half-filmed in a language unfamiliar to her quickly gave way to feelings of enormous guilt. “No, please,” I insisted, “continue reading.” He’d have none of it. Finally, in an uncommonly polite show of audito- rium-acquiescence, I got up from my customary fourth-row center seat and moved ten rows back. The narration soon resumed. It was the only time in my life that I welcomed the sound of someone’s voice echoing anywhere but from the screen.


— Scott Marks


THE RETURN OF THE BIG SCREEN’S LIVE OSCAR-BLOG! While on my weekly charitable pil- grimage through local orphanages, a slight tug at my sleeve caused the cigarette ash to land at the feet of one of the younger foundlings. He was a ragged, dirty-faced little fellow named Johnny. “Mr. Marks,” he inquired in a


timid tone. “Yes, son,” I replied, extinguishing


the butt.


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