SUCKS FOR YOU!

(... that's what they should've called it.)

Tonight marked a few firsts for me:

1. The first time I ate at least a quarter pound of bucheron all on my lonesome (thanks, FRIENDS, for being ladies and not helping me polish it off).


2. The first time I came home to find my roommate there before me AND asleep.


3. The first time I threw away not only a food stuff, but an alcoholic stuff! I cannot believe I tossed at least a quarter bottle of my $13.95 bottle of Placido pino grigio. Perish the thought!


4. The first time I sat up straight and paid legitimate attention to an old, black-and-white, mid-century-accented Bryant Park lawn movie. You know, until I got back from a trip to the bathroom and fell asleep.


5. And tying in with such rapt curiosity, the first time I had ever consumed a full Alfred Hitchcock feature. Considering my twisted, dark, and absolutely unforgiving penchant for the "what-if?", I find this simply appalling and unacceptable.
   

Such were my musings after my viewing of the movie Lifeboat. 'Twas a propagandist(?) WWII cross of and Survivor, Titanic, and Lord of the Flies wherein the folks left to their own devices in the middle of Fucked Avenue and Screwed Boulevard must decide what truly matters in this world we call HUMAN life. Do we work in the interest of MEMEMEMEMEMEME or do we put in (or out) for the greater of the common good? Do we sacrifice our most prized possessions, our own body parts, our loyalty, our kin, or (horror of horrors) our own selves for the pure understanding that the survival of just six living bodies is better than that of just our own?

As Hitchcock virgin, I felt that this little project he pinched out for Twentieth Century Fox c/o John Steinbeck (in 1944 - before the landlord of the Twilight Zone became a mainstream icon in pop culture - but wholly private - mental terrorism) was an apt introduction. It has enough psychological mindfuckery to make you wonder why the bosses of HBO's Bryant Park Summer Film Festival would sick it on a group of after-5 drunken 20-somethings looking for a summer Monday release, but not enough evil perversion to trump other, more perverted films. Because really, can you get any saner with this man? My roommate, a true old-timey movie afficianado (her dad can name ever Oscar winner since like 1325) insists that Lifeboat isn't as an appropriate first film as Rear Window, but I aint complainin. Lo, my Hitchcock naïvété welcomes the enlightened insight of those better versed in the man's portfolio.