9 songs: a tale of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll (or perhaps it's just sex)

Today, in what was my last trip downtown before the big move, Allie and I saw 9 Songs at the E Street Cinema. It is what it is. I can't stand gratuitous sex, but well, it wasn't gratuitous because the film is what it is. You don't know what it is? Perhaps you should Google it. Start by clicking the link above.

I would say that we were the only women in attendance but there was an androgynous audience member that moved around a couple of times. Discounting that one, the rest of the patrons were middle-aged and senior-citizen men. I don't think they were there to see the music portion, if you know what I mean. To their credit, they weren't creepy. I saw much creepier men of the same generation(s) at Inside Deep Throat.

At any rate, the film was clearly made by a man for men to watch. All of the attention was on the woman's body (which resembled a very tall little boy more than anything else). The guy, however, was well endowed. I think we know why he made that movie.