Once Upon a Time in “Belfast”…

Belfast at the movies!

Wait’ll they find out tonight’s feature presentation is In the Name of the Father.

…there was a tiny child named Kenneth Branagh, but everyone called him Buddy. He was a smarter version of Ralphie from A Christmas Story and even had the same preoccupation with the toys and films of his age, plus he even got to unwrap his fair share of Christmas gifts. He didn’t need Ralphie’s narrator powers because he was perfectly happy talking aloud to anyone who’d listen. He never got in trouble for talking too much, even when he kept pointing out little differences between Catholicism and Protestantism like an ’80s standup comic who’s never heard other comics’ routines and feels like he’s blazing new trails in the field of Just Asking Questions.

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Scarecrow and Mr. Grey in “Anthropoid”


Just hanging out in Prague, trying to look cool and impress Czech chicks and maybe not get executed.

In this age of wall-to-wall summer action blockbusters and the multiple temptations to entertain ourselves at home for cheap, we have a hard time getting out there to see and support the obscure, scrappy little films whenever they air in the precious few local theaters that bother to screen them. On rare occasion my wife and I will find spare moments to make the long trek to the one art-house theater on the opposite side of Indianapolis if something tempts us on a not-so-busy weekend. Nine out of every ten experiences have ranged from pleasant to surprising to thrilling.

It’s been a while since we’ve run up against that tenth out of ten films. As soon as it opened here in town, we made an appointment with Anthropoid because films about World War II are usually her cup of tea. This time, not so much.

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