This particular viewing of The Shining served as a sort of fulcrum for a notably frigid Boston winter. Unlike virtually every other cinematic entertainment my city of residence had to offer on this evening, The Shining was no reprieve from the outside temperature—I exited shortly after Jack Nicholson’s murderous smile is frozen in that hedge maze into a night that threatened me with precisely the same fate.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: 35mm print
27 Jan 2009 7:18 PM | Submit Comment
