Nights

Friday night I went to a late show of Nights of Cabiria at the Film Forum. Dear God, that's why I go to the movies. Ever since last summer's Bergman festival ended, my cinema experiences have been flat at best. I've seen very few really great films that stick with me longer than a few days like Nights of Cabiria will. Another Italian film, The Best of Youth, was generous and large - a pleasure definitely worth the 6 hours I spent on my ass watching it. But it didn't have that insistence of life or joy - something beyond a personal humanistic pleasure - that forces its way in despite sadness. Carnivale! I love films that become walking companions; Cabiria and I can stroll along Avenue A together.