As I walked into the 9:10 showing of Before Sunset at the Landmark with Nick last night, there was a coterie of attractive young marketing folks handing out surveys on light green colored paper with small golf pencils taped to the right margin. "Since this is the opening weekend, we'd like you to fill this out and give it back to us after the movie," they cheerfully informed us. Between standing in line in the bathroom with all the irate women who'd just gotten out of Fahrenheit 9/11 and sending a vaguely hysterical text message to BAK, I didn't have time to look at the sheet of paper before the lights went down and the previews started to roll.
80 glorious minutes later, I squinted at the sea of little black boxes they expected me to fill with checkmarks and cried indignantly, "I can't quantify my experience for them like this right now!" The only information they got out of me last night was that I'm a female, between the ages of 25-29, living in the 60622 area code.
Rufus's "Go or Go Ahead" was quietly playing on the sound system as we were walking out. "Are they trying to kill me tonight?" I asked Nick, wiping the smudged eye makeup away from the corners of my eyes.
Go. Go. Go see this movie.