Splatter: on FILM

Dear Katheryn Bigelow ,

I am writing this to thank you and more so to apologize for missing approximately 1.5 hours of your film. Please see the following ad addressed to Mr. Affleck.

 

Dear Ben Affleck,

I hope you’ll understand that I did not intend to cheat you out of a ticket sale for your recent film Argo, of which I caught approximately 1.5 hours of its 2 at full length.

 

You see, the introduction, or hook, if you will, of the film Zero Dark Thirty (2012) contains scenes of torture in which likable characters repeat, “You lie to me, I hurt you.” These only increased with intensity on an already suspense-laden plot. So, I took a walk in order to miss the climax of an opening sequence. My jaunt led me to the candy counter and oddly, into your film, Sir.
70’s quaffs and mustaches greeted me there, as did you yourself.
Your character never smiled as he shook hands with Hollywood types and  CIA agents alike. He maintained the sullen  composure as he met, instructed, and ushered his charges through busy middle eastern markets and streets.
I was amazed to find myself in the same desperate, fearful tone as the film two doors down, as well as the same part of the world. They somehow complimented one another. I augured well despite the tenor of both films and, recognizing the timing and opportunity, boldly reentered Zero Dark Thirty after your film ended.
The timing felt serendipitous. The vivacious and lovely Jessica Chastain had taken her place as the lead and had begun her window count of days til Bin laden’s death. She carried the weight of the mission and could do nothing else. Tenacious.
She ate alone, swore like a sailor, and stalked each premise undaunted in her quest.
The final scenes took place through night vision lenses. We in the mask and on the man hunt. Effective.
The final scene is my favorite. The sunset, tears, and a question: now what?

 

Brilliant finale. Now what?

 

 

So, I write to thank both directors for taking big risks with the film medium to tell stories which would otherwise be left to fade into whispers.

Sincerely,
Splatter: on film