... has made me think of this movie thousands of times since I saw it (and marveled at Taylor) at the old Playboy Theater in Chicago on a particularly nasty winter night. This was when it (and I) first came out, and I've not seen it since, so pardon my fumbles on the details, but.... One character is *waaay* down in the pit of despair toward the end of the film, and second character basically delivers a get-over-it slap: "You're just like everybody else. You're alive and sick and living in Toronto...." The audience roared. Who needs "alive and well"? We all *are* alive and sick and living wherever. And alive and sick (or sick of heart, or sick of it all) and living lots of places since, it's slapped me back into a smile more times than I can count. It was quite a gift, in its sweet neurotic way.
