In movie theaters, no one can hear you sweat

One of the things I did in NYC was see movies -- a lot of movies. Here's a quick rundown, in case you were wondering about any of these (and cared what I thought about them):

Man on Wire: Amazing documentary about a kooky French aerialist who strung a wire between the two World Trade Centers in 1974 and then walked between them! If you see one movie this year…wait, have I said that already? It will make you happy to be alive.
Tell No One: If you see one French thriller a year…okay, yeah, this is really gripping. A real headache movie -- the kind that you walk out of and realize you've been tense the whole time, trying to figure out who's good and who's bad and what's happening. With nearly every great French actor of the past 20 years.

The Tenant: Who knew Roman Polanski was so funny? Or looked so bad in a dress? Brian DePalma stole a lot from this film.

Roman Polanski: Wanted and Desired: Not the best date movie ever, but an intermittently fascinating doc about the film director's troubles with his own libido and the spotlight-starved justice system.

Baghead: Remember when I was talking all about the Mumblecore genre? Well , this is the dudes who did The Puffy Chair, and it's half mumblecore uncomfortable relationship film and half couples chased by masked dude in cabin horror film. Like Curb Your Enthusiasm meets Friday the 13th.

Gonzo: Life and Times of Hunter S Thompson: He may have turned into a cartoon, but for a while there, he was the wildest journalist ever. Some great footage and stories, including the time he cut his hair while running for mayor of Vail, so he could call his ultra-conservative opponent a long-haired freak.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona: Okay, I saw this one here, but I’m including it. Kind of good, but it feels like soft-core porn for old Europhiles, equally enamored of Gaudi's architecture and Scarlett Johannson's lips. Shot a bit too much like an American Express ad.

So, it's good to be back in the East Bay, where I can have interactions like this one, which occurred after I propped my bike up against a tree and walked into the PO Box place to check my mail.

Crazed Berkeley type, speaking frantically: You should bring your bike in here, or else someone will grab it.
Me: I'm just going to be a minute.
Her: My bike got stolen a couple weeks ago.
Me: (Thinking of the recent Piedmont robberies) Oh yeah, was it outside here?
Her: No, it was at my home.
Me: Um, so you live around here?
Her: No.
Me: O-kay. (Going off to open my box)
Her: Well, I guess trust is a beautiful thing.
Me: Go away, batshit lady.