Spencer (whose dreams are much stranger than mine) and I finally caught Kissing Jessica Stein, which bears thankfully little resemblance to its trailer and which I really enjoyed. We saw it at that tiny three-screen theater on 12th street with only another four or five people, lending a certain intimacy to the whole experience; it was more like watching it at a very well-equipped friend’s house than anything else. When we weren’t trying to figure out if they were eating at the same Indian restaurant we go to (they were) or trying to figure out who Scott Cohen resembles (still no idea), we were laughing more or less the entire time. The dialogue is witty in an almost startling way reminiscient of older Woody Allen flicks and the film in its entriety entertaining enough that I’m thinking of seeing it again before it disappears from theaters.

In a similar arty-lesbians-in-New-York vein, I watched High Art again last night. Darker than Jessica Stein and perhaps less entertaining in a sense, I enjoyed it a second time at least in part because it’s so beautifully shot. Plus, I mean, it’s Ally Sheedy as a mournful heroin addict - how can you go wrong? (And the soundtrack is perfect, too.)