On Friday, my husband and I took the train to New York, without kids, and we returned to the Angelika NYC, for "All of Us Strangers."
The movie was challenging and weird, but it had thrilling sections. For example, the protagonist (in the shape of Andrew Scott), has to stop kissing his neighbor, because, he says, he forgot to "take a breath first." When Scott tells his mother he is gay, she can't stay in the conversation, so she aggressively criticizes (then dumps out) the cup of tea that she herself has just prepared. Also, Scott's eyes leak tears, in an unshowy way, scene after scene after scene; he breaks your heart. He could be up for an Oscar this year; unbelievably, this would be the first time since the turn of the century that an openly gay male actor would be in the running. (You have to go all the way back to Ian McKellen, in one of his "wizard" movies.)
Afterward, Marc and I went to McNally Jackson, another great wonder of the SoHo neighborhood, and we paid full price for a couple of hardcovers. A decadent Friday. I hope to get back to this area soon, maybe for "American Fiction."
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