Last week, and this week, I am numbing my butt at nearly every single press screening for the Seattle International Film Festival out of some masochistic curiosity.
I have learned that there are clearly more bad and so-so films made than good or great ones, so far. I have also learned that watching three movies in a day in a theater environment tends to produce very strange, dreamlike memory effects.
I had been warned about this by other toilers in the critical trenches and have been seeking to stave off the dreaded mental movie mashup by taking copious notes.
Of course, the notes are taken in the dark.