On The QT

On Friday, Andy and I caught the Charles Bronson movie THE FAMILY at the Silent Movie Theatre on Fairfax. The Silent Movie Theatre shows many other things besides silent movies, and in fact, has some really obscure and cool screenings. I didn't realize this until about three weeks ago. The seats, though uncomfortable, each come with their own throw cushion.

THE FAMILY is a piece of Eurotrash splendor and includes such wonderful things as: Charles Bronson, Charles Bronson with no shirt, Telly Savalas, Telly Savalas getting a facial, Telly Savalas making fancy drinks in coconut shells, Telly Savalas in enormous Sophia Loren eyeglasses, Ennio Morricone, lots of insane car chases accompanied by totally over the top and illogical tire-squealing sound, a weirdly pink tint to some of the reels, no-means-yes rape scenes, bad acting, bad dialogue, nudity, blood that looks like orange ketchup, zooms, and an iconic ending (featuring zooms).

The Silent Movie Theatre, like the New Beverly, attracts a lot of weird dudes. There were maybe five other women in the place.

So a good twenty minutes in, this guy comes in and is whispering to the guy sitting behind us:

Guy: hey, that's my seat.

Sitting Guy: huh?

Guy: that's my seat, all my stuff is there.

Sitting Guy: uhhh.

Guy (full volume): ALL MY SHIT IS THERE, THAT'S MY SEAT.

A good way to shame someone into doing something in a theatre when the show's on is to talk full volume. This works particularly well if you are Quentin Tarantino.

QT enjoyed the movie very much, I can report. He laughed a lot at some of the campiest stuff (there's a great part when Bronson is going to rape his old girlfriend down by the docks and then they pause and watch this other guy get the shit kicked out of him by three guys [and there's this strange subtext of maybe he's going to get raped too???] and then Bronson and the girlfriend talk about the fight a little like they are sitting on a couch watching it on TV and then CUT: to a totally different scene).

I have to admit that I didn't even realize that it was Tarantino until Andy pointed it out after we had left. Apparently he goes there a lot. The smoking patio between pictures must look like a crazy courtship ritual in which forty movie-obsessed dudes try simultaneously to sidle up to the man and tell him how much they liked KILL BILL: PART ONE.