“Notice anything different?” Standing on the staircase many years ago, my five-year-old sister asked my dad this question upon his arrival home from work. She was chewing bubble gum. It was her birthday that day, and in my family you have to be five to chew gum. My dad didn’t immediately notice what had changed; the answer to my sister’s question wasn’t as apparent as she’d wanted it to be. So she began to chew vigorously, teeth clacking, until my dad knew the answer.
When I ask you, dear readers, if you notice anything different about this week’s column, I ask already knowing that the answer to my question is blatantly apparent to all. This column, built by two voices, is only one voice today.
Jonah’s sick. I first came across him in this state this past weekend as he was shuttling his way back from WeShop midday with a remedying tea, aimed straight for his bed. I’d heard stories that he’d chosen to stay in the night before, not accompanying his friends on their weekend adventure. Still, the next night, I walked to the side of his house and threw an acorn at his window, hoping to be greeted by the smiling face of my one and only Cinebuddy. When the window opened, the face I saw wasn’t smiling. It looked hurt. Drained.
Things can get really hard here at Wesleyan. I want to acknowledge sickness, to acknowledge pain, to acknowledge everything everyone is facing in this busy world that doesn’t always have the time to acknowledge everyone’s things! We’re all trying really hard. I love all of you, and I know that Jonah loves you, too. We believe in you.
Jonah and I have been writing this column together every week for some time approaching two years now. What you may not have known is that I’ve been the harmony the whole time. Jonah’s the melody. But now you know. And now I’m doing the only thing I can: I’m asking for help. Send your replies to the prompts below to cinefilesdigital@gmail.com. We really need you this week. Jonah needs you. I want the Cinefiles to sound whole again.
“Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb”
Wednesday, Oct. 5. 8 p.m. Free.
After accusing the USSR of spiking American tap water with fluoride, an Air Force General (Sterling Hayden) initiates a nuclear assault that could very well mean the end of humanity to the creed of Mutually Assured Destruction. Hopping from Air Force base to plane to the Pentagon War Room at breakneck speed, “Dr. Strangelove” is likely Kubrick’s fastest-paced film, as well as his most uproarious. Of the many far-out performances peppering the film (many of which were culled from early takes that the director promised his actors were mere rehearsals), the most iconic are those of Peter Sellers, who makes unforgettable characters out of a timid officer, the egg-headed President, and the titular doctor.
“Güeros”
Thursday, Oct. 6. 8 p.m. Free.
Against the backdrop of the 1999 student strike at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), three teens embark on a quest across Mexico City to find their childhood idol, the elusive rock star Epigmenio Cruz. On the way, they encounter drunken hoodlums, anarchists, lost loves, and a renewed sense of self. Ruizpalacios simultaneously mocks and celebrates Mexican art-house cinema to hilarious effect.
“The Legend of the Drunken Master”
Friday, Oct. 7. 8 p.m. $5.
Fei-hung, the son of a fight school instructor, inadvertently uncovers a plot to sell Chinese masterworks to the London Museum after accidentally swapping a ginseng root for a priceless artifact. The Jackie Chan Stunt Team marries martial artistry with slapstick comedy in a film bursting with vibrant fight scenes that more closely resemble elaborate dance numbers than the quick-cutting, incoherent series of close-ups that define the modern action film.
“The Hitch-Hiker”
Saturday, Oct. 8. 8 p.m. Free.
“There’s Death in his upraised thumb!” Two men on a fishing trip pick up a mysterious hitcher only to find themselves at the mercy of a sadistic fugitive. Lupino, a female pioneer in the world of film noir, builds an atmosphere of dread that will make you feel claustrophobic despite the sprawling desert scenery.