For as long as I can remember being a cinephile, June/July is a time of excitement and discovery and anticipation as the New Zealand International Film Festival hits town.
Multiple copies of the brochure are hoarded (1 x library, 1 x lending, 1 x booking), and one of them becomes dog-eared with innumerable passes as various selections are made (1 x if I was rich, 1 x if I am poor, 1 x if I had the time, etc). The first pass is usually where several hundred notional dollars is spent as real-world rules are abandoned. The final pass is reached after considerable pain, and eventual, reluctant, acceptance of the world that I live in.
This year, I did my first pass and… I didn’t dog-ear anything. This is a first. The Boy has made his choice – having bored and traumatised him at the last couple of fests, I thought it only fair that he have some say this year. Even The Goddess has had some difficulty finding something to discover/anticipate/get-excited-about.
Is it me? I hope not.
Time, maybe, to consult with Someone Who Knows.
