NEEDLING

TODAY’S FILM

Any way the wind blows, de Tom Barman
IMDB
ALLOCINE

The Windman, Sam Louwyck, moves through a tunnel underneath Antwerp. And from there begins one day in the lives of a whole lot of people. The Windman seems to be the glue, the central element, the core around whom and from whom any way the wind blows the camera. Not always apparent. Sam Louwyck is a dancer. I had visions of him in that short film I never made. Apparently, he’s quite famous. Not that I would know. I don’t know a whole hell of a lot. There’s a point in the movie where the Windman is standing against the doorframe to a bar and he’s drinking a green cocktail from a tall thin glass. Though he’s blowing bubbles with his straw, the level of the green liquid is going down. I am aware that this is not exactly great special effects in action. But I liked that. I had fun in this movie. And it’s good not to see a tear-jerker every once in a while. The party, the point where most of the characters meet at the end of the movie, is way too long… it’s true… but then it becomes almost like a music video entrancing to a point at time I thought I was actually at the party, though only a spectator looking in from the door left open, being hesitant… enjoying the scene but feeling I don’t belong. Mostly, I was impressed with Louwyck. If I see this movie again, I believe I’ll have to be smoking some good strong grass. Watch it in loop – en boucle – for a few hours. Sounds like something I did before many summers ago living in the big house in Maine watching Dazed and Confused over and over again and smoking from a tall green glass pipe. Well, I didn’t live in that big house perched up on those rocky shores, but might as well have had as much time as I spent there sitting on the couch zoning on Linklater’s high school memoir. Those two movies have nothing in common, and really shouldn’t be mentioned in the same paragraph. All they have in common is pot. One of them I smoked pot watching it dozens of times, the other I only watched once during which time I was not smoking pot but wishing I was. Make sense?

(Nobody reads this blog anyway, so IT DOESN’T HAVE TO MAKE SENSE… not even to me.)

Time to go back outside and walk through the streets a little more. Maybe go see another movie? Maybe go have a drink in a bar? Maybe go lay down in the middle of place de la Republic? Something. I’ve got to do something. Soon, I’ll be doing just as much of nothing on the other side of the Atlantic. That’s a depressing thought. Okay…