New poetry from Joseph Milford graces our front page now, along with an essay by Robert Mueller on the poetry of Alan Gilbert. Both bring in a touch of the surreal, which is always welcome here. Because, poetry is like … a simile. Or, as Ernest Hemingway would say, “Do you want to box?”
Which reminds me of the film I saw last night, Woody Allen’s wonderful “Midnight in Paris.” An ode to the city of light, an ode to love, and a trip through time with Scott, Zelda, Stein, Picasso, Dali, Bunuel and a host of great artists, writers and composers. Why? Why do we go with them, through the streets of Paris, into the cafes and nightclubs? Ultimately, perhaps, to learn that there is no place like the present for love, and that without it time and place matter not at all. Without it, we have no Tree of Life, as Malick might say, stuck in a room with the exterminating angel.
My neighbor across the street Kurt Fuller is in this film and he has good things to say about it but then he’s in it.It does look like a better Woody Allen film than what he’s put out of late.
Thanks for the review of Woody’s new film. It sounds as if it is worth watching.