Earlier today I reported that a New York-based female friend of an L.A. screenwriter had told him that the breathtaking wire-walking finale in Robert Zemeckis‘ The Walk gave her “motion sickness.” Now I’m reading a report from The Hollywood Reporter‘s Scott Feinberg that says three guys were observed “simultaneously vomiting” in the Alice Tully Hall men’s room right after the climactic scene was shown.
This is good publicity for the film, of course, as younger males are sure to flock to The Walk to prove to themselves (and to their girlfriends) that they’re not like those three pathetic specimens referenced above. As Feinberg notes, the Walk climax “isn’t for everyone.”
HE to the three spewing Lincoln Center guys: Where is your manhood? Where is your honor? You do realize, I presume, that from this moment on you can no longer fantasize that you have a bit of that preternatural Steve McQueen cool…right? When you ralphed last night you gave up your membership in that club for life. The next time you watch Bullitt (’67) you can identify with Robert Duvall‘s cab driver…fair enough? Or with Robert Vaughn‘s guy…whatsisname, Walter Chalmers.
I was going to call this post “Jean–Luc Godard’s Contempt” but the one I went with is better.