Anamorph -2008 Film

My flight from Bangkok to Taipei to Anchorage to JFK lasted through a very long Sunday. Total time - 37 hours and according my body have been suffering a severe case of narcolepsy. Two evenings ago Willem Dafoe invited me to a screening of ANAMORPH by HS Miller. "I'm playing a cop."

"You get killed?"Willem had died at least 11 times in his career and played a cop three times more than his Jesus role in THE LAST TEMPTATION OF CHRIST.

"Yeah, but it's very artistic."

"Great I love autistic."

"I said artistic."

"Is there a difference?" Maybe like between Rock Hudson and James Dean in GIANT.

"In some films." He wouldn't say which ones.

"I'll see you there." The screening was at 7:30 in Tribeca. I invited my host in Brooklyn along for help. Andrew Pollack and I met for drinks prior to the film. I was already yawning.

"Are you going to make it?" Andrew ordered us beers.

"No way." I drank half in a second and signaled for another since it was 2/1 happy hour. "Your job is to nudge me."

"When you fall asleep?"

"No, when I start snoring." My wife says I don't really snored as much as breath heavy, which can be disconcerting for the person sitting in front of you in a dark theater should they harbor any paranoia about being stabbed in the back.

"Okay." Andrew and I drank our beers and walked over to Canal Street. Willem was waiting inside with his wife. We hadn't seen each other since the Bangkok Film Festival in 2006. He hadn't changed much and his wife Gaida was more beautiful than I remembered. We spoke for several seconds, then I excused myself, so he could attend to business. Andrew and I took our seats. Within seconds I yawned for the first time.

"At least stay awake for the opening." Andrew settled into the aisle seat.

"I'm good for that." Barely.

The film opened in New York, but some of the scenes could have been Milwaukee, Willem's hometown. The first murder put me to sleep in a 30 year-old movie theater chair. My eyes opened several times, one being Willem's peering through a camera obscura perspective to see a bird constructed from human body parts and the second his chasing the killer through a vacant lot. He seemed to have lose a little of his speed and I wondered if i could beat him in a foot race. I dreamed about the Olympics and a black fist raised on the Mexico City podium. Lee Evans and Tommy Smith were my heroes.

Andrew nudged me awake.

"Was I snoring?" Willem was dying with his eyes raised to heaven.

"You were talking in your sleep. Go-go-go."

"Oh." Several people were looking at me. Obviously this sleep-weary outburst had been inappropriate for the ending. The title filled the screen. No one got up. "Why's no one leaving?"

"At screenings it's considered good manners to sit through the credits so people can see their names."

"I've seen Willem's." I had to pee. More people glared at my exit. They hadn't been on a plane for a day and a half. By the time I emerged from the restroom, the crowd was filtering into the back room, where sparkly waitresses circulated with offerings of buffet of mini-hors-oeuvres. Willem was besieged by admirers. I could talk with him later. Andrew and I went to the bar.

"Two vodka tonics." I wasn't moving from this spot, since the bar provided 180 degree protection against the bustling crowd. Andrew said that Willem had been very solid in the film. I didn't ask for any other reviews, although a woman behind me asked, "What did you think?"

"It was very good." I took her order for a martini and gave it to the bartender.

"How would you know?" Her bald companion demanded, indicating he had been subjected to my snoring somnablather. "You slept through the entire thing."

"No, he didn't, he woke up twice." Andrew was a good friend to defend me, but I was prepared. "I've been to thousands of films and only the bad ones keep me awake."

The woman laughed and I said this line came from the New York Times opera critic's defense against a letter writer's attacking his sleeping through THE MAGIC FLUTE.

"So snoring is like three stars?"

"Like two black eyes are one star." I wasn't in the mood for repartee and turned my back.

"Good to see you have your anger in check." Andrew had never seen me fight, but my reputation had a life of its own even after a five-year absence from New York. When I looked into the crowd, the bald man and his friend had been replaced by Willem's back. I gave him a light goose in the butt. His spine straightened up and he smiled seeing it was me.

"Have a good sleep?"

"You heard me."

"Only talking."

"Yeah, I slept like a prince, thanks."

He was dragged away by film people and I ordered another drink. Andrew warned that he wasn't carrying me home. I told him I was okay. We took the subway over to Brooklyn. I fell asleep on the couch watching the Red Sox and dreamed of nothing until dawn. New York New York.