Love you, Paris. Loovvvve You.

Where else in the world can you see a double-short feature of Roman Polanski's La Rivière de Diamants (1963) with Luis Bunuel and Salvador Dali’s Un Chien Andalou (1928)? At noon on a Tuesday?! Around the corner from a dusty little jazz record shop? Strike that--it wasn't dusty, because when I walked in, the proprietor was vacuuming the CD bins. Just so. I'm telling you, everything is just so over here.

Un Chien Andalou was last. It's always a little odd walking out into the light after a matinee, but after that, the daylight made me dizzy. Homesick, too. Such a strange movie, and then to walk out into the freezing cold and hear nothing but French...it was the first time I could viscerally sense that I was standing on another continent, and my mind could add up the distance back to Baltimore, foot by foot.

Any cineastes out there want to tell me what ever happened to Nicole Karen? Google doesn't get you far with a name like that, and IMDB hasn't got much. She might have dragged La Rivière de Diamants all over the screen like it was an Old Navy commercial, but still, she owned it. Not an easy face to forget.