He's A Maniac, Maniac!
Some call it a lush life—this film critic’s existence brimming with glamorous world premieres, luxurious private screenings (Sat next to Rex Reed once at The Long Riders—he dozed off even before I did) and exclusive cocktail parties at the Hotel Carlton while the Mediterranean ripples in the sun and starlets parade in Puris naturalibus along the beach.
He's A Maniac, Maniac!
DRIVE-IN SATURDAY
by
Edouard Dauphin
Some call it a lush life—this film critic’s existence brimming with glamorous world premieres, luxurious private screenings (Sat next to Rex Reed once at The Long Riders—he dozed off even before I did) and exclusive cocktail parties at the Hotel Carlton while the Mediterranean ripples in the sun and starlets parade in Puris naturalibus along the beach. (Missed Edy Williams topless one time by less than cinq minutes.)
But then there is reality in the form of a shrieking alarm clock summoning The Dauph to a 10:30 a.m. screening clear on the other side of Manhattan in what looks to be a hailstorm and is this flick soon to be unspooled an undiscovered masterpiece or even a much touted extravaganza? His eyes mere slits, Edouard examines the press invite. He is to trudge out into the downpour to view something called Metalstorm: The Destruction Of Jared-Syn. In 3-D, for God’s sake. Lush life indeed—better pack a thermos of kamikazes.