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The summer doldrums will not be televised…
I keep going through the motions like I am going to write a proper column, but it’s like getting blood from a stone. The entire city seems to be walking in a kind of invisible, professional sludge this week.
This weekend’s choice between The Medallion, My Boss’ Daughter and Marci X… well, at least the Jackie Chan movie isn’t a retread… even if it feels like the accessories maven’s version of The Tuxedo.
Perhaps this is just the natural cycle of things. In two weeks, Toronto starts rocking and rolling with the Canadian opening (Denys Arcand) and the American opening… a Neil Young concert. The festival looks like it will be a lot of fun for movie lovers, even if it is death for major movie buyers…. there is virtually nothing to buy. There will be some doc sales and some micro-distributor sales. But after Bright Young Things… crickets, baby! After some corrections yesterday, my list is down to only 24 films even worth looking at for domestic distribution. Sigh…
The e-mils I got yesterday about the festival films were great. Any further insight would be terrific. And my brain will return to work before long… promise…
E ME: Help me, Rhonda.
