This is the next entry in a Theatre… a Movie… and a Time, a series that was begun here. Might as well end the week on an intriguing note. If you haven’t guessed, this week’s entries spotlit significant points in my life that just happened to cross with films worthy of the Halloween season and its scares. This one credited to my colleague J.D. from Radiator Heaven when he looked at the unique intersection of two distinct genres. Last week’s film review of another work by novelist, artist, and film director Clive Barker a worthy read:
“I’ve always been drawn to the horror noir subgenre – a hybrid of horror and film noir that features downtrodden protagonists immersed in a nightmarish, shadowy underworld fraught with danger at every turn. However, instead of the antagonists being simple criminal underworld figures they are quite often beings infused with supernatural powers. Some memorable examples include Angel Heart (1987), The Ninth Gate (1999) and Constantine (2005).”
August 27, 1995: Funny (read strange) how you make and/or lose friends. Happens sometimes over the littlest things, or the biggest life brings. Case in point: I do spend an inane amount of time playing the most frustrating sport I know. Golf. Have even incorporated it into some of my movie viewing.
Luckily, I’m married to the most tolerant person in the world.
As it happened, I started playing around the time I married that woman. Introduced to the game via the same cousin who I took to see Jaws the day after I did. It’s an open question whether my bride of almost 25 years thinks that a blessing. I was hooked. Eventually, I joined a foursome of work friends as a result.
At least one day a week were spent with them for a fair number of years. Every so often, the group would head out on an overnight trip to play at some new course. Our wives happy to get these golf-crazed dolts out of their house, no doubt. Drive there together, break out the clubs for a round or two. Then, settle in some hotel to wash up for dinner and movie thereafter.
This year, it turned out to be Morgan Run in Rancho Santa Fe. Two days after my wife’s birthday, in fact. I picked Lord of Illusions as the movie, which played at the Flower Hill Cinema in nearby Del Mar. They, to a man, HATED IT. Happens. I the only one who found the horror noir an intriguing mix. As usual, we finished the trip without issue. Planned for future ones.
What made this junket remarkable? It’d be the last before crossing a momentous threshold. In less than two months the most meaningful, the hardest job I’d ever love arrived. Fatherhood. The foursome would split apart subsequently, altered forever by this. And I wouldn’t change a thing.