I’ve just come out of what may have been the most uncomfortable screening of my entire theatrical moviegoing life.
I’m not talking about the film I saw — Fernando Meirelles‘ The Two Popes, an engagingly thoughtful, well-written, occasionally comedic relationship drama about Pope Benedict XVI (Anthony Hopkins) and Pope Francis (Jonathan Pryce). I’m talking about the arctic frigidaire climate inside Telluride’s Galaxy theatre.
The house was filled with warm bodies, but I was all but unable to focus on the film because I was trembling and hugging myself to death. I was half watching the Popes while my other half couldn’t stop dreaming about pleasuring myself with a winter coat and scarf, or a goose down quilt. I’m sorry but that’s what happened.