Goran Dukic’s Wristcutters: A Love Story is playing noon on Friday (1.27) at the Eccles, so now I don’t have an excuse to miss it. That’s too bad. I don’t want to see any movie of any kind about post-mortal purgatory, or about anyone cutting their wrists… fuck that shit and send it to hell. And the lead guy Patrick Fugit (who was completely perfect in Almost Famous) has been rubbing me the wrong way in his last couple of films. Everyone’s been telling me to see it though, so I guess I’m stuck. “I’m saying that Wristcutters is the best film in the festival…it is a very specialized play,” David Poland wrote sometime last night. “It is not quite as weird as Napoleon Dynamite [and] it’s a little like last year’s Everything Is Illuminated, though it promises less and delivers more.” Again I’m telling myself, “Always be wary when Poland likes something.” But this line got me: “Dukic doesn’t put a spotlight on his most interesting choices. He allows the audience to find them all for themselves. And that is how you end up with a true cult film. It leaves a funny sensation. I can feel in the pit of my stomach how strong it will play with young audiences, in great part because it doesn’t have the easy marketing hooks that some of the other films have had. It respects its audience, even as it pushes the envelope.” Fuck me…I’ll be there tomorrow.