Meeting Mr. R / Kickstart My Heart

So I met Jonathan Rosenbaum, film critic for the Chicago Reader, yesterday. He wanted to preview one of the movies we're showing at my theater. I was nervous: what do you say to one of your idols (or at least someone you greatly respect despite thinking that they are nuts some of the time)? This wasn't like seeing Timothy Hutton on the subway; I would have to interact with him, right? After the movie, what if he asked me what I thought of it? To shake hands or not to shake hands?

The experience was less than exciting. He showed up at 5:30 sharp. We walked up to the theater, and he asked how it was that we picked the movie in question (it wasn't me, it was the other Mike). I got him a Diet Coke. I went upstairs and played the movie. He sat 2/3 of the way back, on the right-hand side of the main section of seats. "What was he wearing?" I hear all his breathless fans asking; he was wearing a big furry hat with ear flaps and a gray tweed coat.

During the screening, I worried about what I would say about the movie when he asked me what I thought. I made mental notes: the fight scene in the hotel, where the two men's faces were pressed together at the end; the aerial shots of the plane crash and aftermath; the tacked-on ending. Would that be enough? Would he think I was an idiot? Should I mention my website?

When the movie was over, I went downstairs. He remarked that the print was in pretty good shape. He said that he would contact me about the screening in April, when we're showing another film that he wants to see. He left. The end.

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Philips is selling the first over-the-counter Heart Defibrillator. I have two words for them: bank robberies. You heard it here first—it's only a matter of time that these dangerous things are used for criminal purposes.