On Walking Out

Walking out of a movie is like a big capital F capital U to the film maker, especially if the director is in attendance. It says “I spent time and money to be here and I’m not even going to dignify this by sticking through to the end. I’ve seen enough.” Up until yesterday I’ve never walked out on a film. Not in the last two film festivals. Not ever. It’s not that I haven’t seen some real stinkers before — I was very close to walking out of Un Crime last year and The Duelist the year before — I just have a high level of patience. Or tolerance. Just not yesterday.

It’s quite simple. This year I purchased my tickets in advance, getting a Day Pass, greatly lowering the per ticket cost so I didn’t feel as though I had wasted so much money. I also had seen about 17 films, in less than five days, before last night’s screening. I was tired. My patience was shot. The price was minimal. I left.

And the film? M. The director’s last film? The Duelist. Note to self: next time do more research and don’t rely so much on the program guide’s writeup.

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