The last time I saw this movie, before watching it for this review, was the night it opened at the Angelika on Houston St. in 1999. That was my first summer in New York City. I was young, poor, and my eyes still boggled at the sights of the big city. The future was so bright that I didn’t mind the cumulative petty annoyances that make living in a city a daily trial. I was hooked. I was in love. I didn’t mind that with the bright lights and creative people came a dastardly assault on the senses. The piercing screech of a 6 train entering Union Square was just a touch of realism, even as blood trickled from my ruptured ear drums. The sweltering summer heat cooking a bouquet of urine and dead fish from the city’s sidewalks was a small price to pay for urban dynamism. A strong scent is the mark of a people’s presence, and there can’t be a great city without lots and lots of people. Continue reading “October Horrorshow: The Blair Witch Project”