I’ve felt rather guilty about not posting more during my guest stint here. My e-mail has been on the fritz, I have been out of town, and . . . Well, anyway, even though it’s really late at the moment, I simply have to post something to salve my conscience.
We’ve just completed Groundhog Day 2004. Which, naturally, leads us to contemplation of the greatest film ever made: the eponymous “Groundhog Day,” starring Bill Murray and Andie McDowell. (I know, I know. Some prefer “What about Bob?” I’m sympathetic, and can certainly understand the preference. But, for personal reasons, I simply can’t endorse it. I’ve had several students who were remarkably like “Bob,” and I find the film profoundly unnerving.)
I’ve been going through some American film noire recently. Over this past weekend, for example, the menu was “The Big Sleep,” “Double Indemnity,” and “The Third Man.” Great stuff, of course. But in terms of sheer power to inspire existential dread, nothing can possibly surpass the thought of a radio alarm playing Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You, Babe” every morning at 6 AM for all eternity. “No Exit,” indeed.