My Remembering My Dinner With Andre

Perhaps it is just because it's evocative of my halcyon days at university, you know "those butt planted, heel slamming mornings" (sorry I've drifted off into someone else's poem). Rather: when my intellect was precipating from the academic solution that I was immersed in. Or maybe it was a novel film for 1981, but I've just watched the freshly-released-on-DVD-and-now-available-at-Netflix "My Dinner With Andre". It is surely a remarkable, simple film. You remember, the film that suggests that once in a while you go through a day using only you're left hand (if you are right-handed), just to be sure that you shake your life up a little, often enough. And that maybe flags sewn for a purpose, to fly over your endeavors and your friends and capture their essence for you to hoard, that well, maybe such things can be evil incarnated inanimately -- and the solution is to burn them and bury them, ritualistically. And that maybe we live our lives in a trance and maybe we need an occasional trance to make us live our lives alive. And where you can see Wallace Shawn say "Inconceivable!" six years before he does it again in "The Princess Bride". Ahhh.