— पांच हजार दो सौ छियालीस —
There sure seems to be a lot of relative mediocrity at the cinema lately.
I mean, I generally consider anything a B-minus or above worth going to see; I still stand by that. I only think a movie is especially worth recommending, with few exceptions, if I give it a B+ or higher. This year I've been averaging nine movie reviews a month, which is lower than pre-pandemic averages but still plenty, and in the past three months, only one of those average nine has been a B+ or higher. I haven't seen even an A-minus level movie since April.
The last three movies I have seen have been a solid B, including what I went to last night,
Fire of Love, a documentary I really had higher hopes for. And once again, it's like, oh well—at least I had a movie to go to.
It really feels like a bit of a catch-22 these days. If you want people to come to theaters to see movies, you should offer higher quality movies. But, because the budgets for movies are moving almost exclusively to tentpole blockbusters (of which there haven't even been that many this year), the highest-quality content has moved to TV and streamers. I fear for the future of cinema.
I mean, I suppose it's more accurate to say I fear for the future of multiplexes, which have their own sets of issues. I'll likely always have cinema options, they'll just become a more sort of boutique option in the future. The bummer of that is, when multiplexes inevitably die, or at least significantly lessen in number, so will the fantastic monthly subscription model I now enjoy. The smaller theaters can't afford the same model, at least right now. And currently, with my AMC monthly subscription, I have not one but
two multiplexes to choose from—and for now at least, they often offer more independent, foreign and documentary options. This is especially the case at the AMC 10 in the U District, which used to be Sundance Cinemas (which used to be Landmark Theaters), where I took Light Rail to see
Fire of Love last night.
I do so very much love having the Light Rail option for that now. It may be a half-hour walk to the Capitol Hill Light Rail Station, but the train ride just zips a few minutes past University of Washington Station and then to U District Station, which is like three blocks from the theater. The movie showtime was at 6:00 and I must have left my building at 5:35, getting there easily. In the old days, relying exclusively on busses, I'd have had to leave home at least by 5:10.
Anyway! Back to
Fire of Love, a documentary about a married volcanologist couple who died together on a volcano in 1991. I found the film itself deeply flawed on a narrative level, but the images alone make it the rare solid-B movie I would still recommend, especially if you enjoy live footage of active volcano eruptions. This movie has a lot of that. It also includes some rare, truly jaw-dropping footage of the 1980 eruption of Mt. St. Helens.
— पांच हजार दो सौ छियालीस —
— पांच हजार दो सौ छियालीस —
I saw Eddie very briefly after getting home from work, and before leaving for the movie. He then left for the airport, having thanked us both over text and in person for "opening our home" to him. And that's it for Eddie, I'm guessing. He joked a couple of times about moving to Seattle, he enjoyed visiting so much, but in the end it didn't sound all that likely.
Now I just need to get around to washing the linens on the guest room bed again.
— पांच हजार दो सौ छियालीस —
I guess I'll mention monkeypox now. Don't worry, I don't have it! And there's largely a very good reason for it: I haven't had multiple sex partners since . . . let me check my calendar. May 26! I'm well past the incubation period, and known cases were far lower then. And as of now, I am avoiding the bathhouse to the same degree I did during the worst of covid. I am actually no longer all that concerned about covid at the bathhouse, although I would still wear a mask most of the time I was there. The risk of monkeypox is now a far greater concern at bathhouses.
There's a lot of back and forth on social media about the messaging regarding monkeypox and its prevalence in the queer community. Over 90% of confirmed cases are among men who have sex with men, but health agencies in more liberal areas (like Seattle) are hesitant to focus on that for fear of backlash against stigmatization—but, people in the highest-risk communities should be made to understand what that means. I'm already seeing alarmist TikTok videos about
problematically worded headlines—examples being from elsewhere in the world, but warning of such ignorance becoming more widespread. So we have one camp insisting the messaging should stress that anyone can get monkeypox regardless of sexual orientation (which is true), and another camp insisting there should be targeted messaging to the highest risk group (which, based on currently available data, is indeed currently men who have sex with men, and people of other genders who have sex with them).
Dan Savage released a special extra
Savage Lovecast episode this morning, and it contained the harshest messaging I've seen to date: he specifically recommends skipping big, crowded queer events that typically include "a lot of groping", or orgies, or bathhouses, until this gets more under control; he goes out of his way to detail how painful the monkeypox rashes and pustules can be; and he notes that current official estimates of confirmed cases are likely an undercount, "by a factor of ten, or twenty," an assertion the doctor guest he was speaking to did not contradict. As of today, there have been
86 confirmed cases in King County alone, but if that undercount factor is true, there could actually be over 1,700 people walking around the county with it right now. Rubbing against anyone I don't already know, in any way, is really not a good idea right now.
I'm all about avoiding sex shaming in any way or in any context. But temporary abstinence in the name of getting an outbreak under control is not the same as shame. As Dan Savage noted, if everyone could just "zip up their pants for two weeks," we could stop the spread. (Admittedly, even that is an oversimplification: all you need is skin to skin contact to spread it, or touching contaminated clothing or linens or surfaces; it doesn't have to be sex.) His frustration is with health agencies unwilling to send out that message.
I already made the decision to avoid the bathhouse for the time being a few weeks ago. The risk even then felt unduly high, and I don't want to take any boneheaded risks.
It is kind of wild, though, to be dealing with this while the covid pandemic still goes on. I mean, Jesus Christ. Will all this shit never end? Probably not. I also keep thinking about our unusually long heat wave this week, with forecast highest above 90° four days in a row, and how this will likely increasingly become "normal" every summer—along with wildfire smoke choking our air for several days or even weeks most years. We haven't seen any smoke so far this year, but it's probably coming. My last visit to Vancouver, when I went up to see Ivan in August of 2018, the amount of smoke covering the whole city was a real bummer. It looks like the air quality will likely be a lot better when Shobhit and I return for Vancouver Pride this weekend, probably just because we'll be going a few weeks earlier in the year than I did last time.
Living in the 21st Century has its perks, but it can be a real pain in the ass.
— पांच हजार दो सौ छियालीस —
[posted 12:23 pm]
