Yesterday, while walking to the subway here in Brooklyn, we saw a man on a motorcycle get hit by a car. The car wasn't going very fast, and motorcycle guy was wearing a helmet, but the car caught the bike flush, and we heard the scrunnnnch of the man's leg being pulverized into dust. It was gruesome. We -- like the 80 other people on the street corner at the time -- called 911 and then just stared at the guy, mesmerized, as he screamed in agony. We were just a stranger, gaping, at one of the worst moments of his life. The sounds he made were primal, and we could not look away.
In related news, "The Son of No One" comes out today. Dito Montiel, the punk-rocker-turned-NYC-noir-writer-director whose once-promising career came to a crashing halt when Sundance screened the film earlier this year, is having his lifelong dream implode this weekend, as the film slinks in and out of 10 theaters and likely is never heard from again. Sort of cruelly, the LA Times' Steven Zeitchik rang up Montiel and asked him how he was doing, on the opening weekend.
"It's coming out, but in like 10 theaters," Montiel said when we caught up with him by phone this week to see how he was doing. "It's at the Santa Monica Third Street Promenade. But not even the good theater at the Third Street Promenade."
OK. Well, at least he's still passionate about the film, right?
"The people who bought the movie said, 'We gotta change the ending, and I said, 'I don't want to reshoot anything.' I would have fought them to the death if I thought they were insane, but I'll always try things, so I went back in and edited it. It isn't the one I [originally] did, but I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was better. But I thought the other one was cool. I don't know. I don't know if it's better. I don't like one more than the other."
OK! Montiel has said that "bad press drives me nuts; I read everything." May we suggest a spa treatment this weekend, Dino? Just go away for 72 hours, relax, don't think about anything. It'll all be over soon. (Oh, and seriously: Call your Webmaster.)