You Will Thank Me
If you haven’t seen “Aröma” in a movie theatre yet, you must. Trust me. Have I ever steered you wrong?
O.K., that one time. But then didn’t I find you a good divorce lawyer?
Yes, I am aware that you can stream it on CineSteal, but, believe me, you want—need—to experience this movie on the big screen.
Bigger than that.
Louder. Whatever you do, I insist that you go to a theatre that has SurroundScream. There’s a wonderful state-of-the-art Infinityplex in . . . can you fly to Sydney, Australia, tomorrow?
King of Prussia Mall?
Can’t you visit your mother in the hospital later? “Aröma” is leaving theatres on Wednesday, so this is your only chance—like seeing Halley’s Comet.
In the I.C.U.? How long did they give her? The movie’s only seven hours and change. I know your mother would want you to see it.
Yes, foreign, but not foreign in that way. None of the characters loses a bicycle, and you don’t have to look at any poor people.
Well, what’s so stunning about this director is that he truly understands the universal appeal of the banal. He’s not afraid to hold the camera on a single detail for twenty minutes—even an invisible one. Did you see “Unloading the Dishwasher”? Same guy. He won Uruguay’s equivalent of the People’s Choice Award for best nudity for “The Shower Grouter.”
Couldn’t agree more: reading subtitles is so annoying. That’s what’s great about “Aröma.” There are no subtitles, because there’s no dialogue, because there’s no story.
No, no, no! Something happens, I’m pretty sure. It’s just that the important parts take place offscreen, such as in the rest room.
Promise me you’ll go to a theatre that’s equipped with odor technology and sit up front, near the misting nozzles. You’ve never smelled smell design like this.
Hey, you don’t have to take my word for it. Read the reviews.
Wow. It’s so interesting that you interpreted it that way, because when I read “I hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it. Would rather swim in a toilet bowl,” I took it as a rave.
Everyone who’s anyone has seen it. My friend was at the première, and she said that after the first five minutes Dame Judi Dench scooted past and tripped on my friend’s purse and somehow ended up ripping her jacket because she was in such a rush to get out of the theatre. My friend’s so lucky!
That reminds me. You must sit in the absolute center of the row, even if you have to make someone move. Oh—and this is important—bring a blanket, because, spoiler alert, there’s this really astounding special effect that involves frostbite. Probably also a good idea to bring a portable oxygen tank, if you have one. I’ve heard that a lot of the concession stands sell out early.
I don’t mean to be a bully, but, if you don’t see this movie in a theatre, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.
Honestly, if you skip it, I’ll respect your decision, but I don’t know how we’ll continue to be friends.
You’ll go? Yay! I know for a fact that you’re going to thank me.
That is such a kind offer, but I’m going to pass. Movies aren’t my thing. I’m more of an opera person. ♦
via The New Yorker – Culture http://bit.ly/2vBNPRa
February 11, 2019 at 10:01AM