The Pianist
We haven’t any snow but still everything is white. The streets are white. The sidewalks are white. Street signs, bridges, my car, other humans and their pets — all covered in a thin layer of white chalky dirt and salt. The world looks like a cold blank canvas. It’s man versus the elements here in the upper latitudes. It’s no small obstacle, when you realize that, if not dressed properly, if you forgo a glove or your capilene long underwear that you could end up a winter casualty. Cruel things can happen at 10 below naught.

It took every ounce of spirit to go see Roman Polanski’s The Pianist yesterday. And, although it took half the movie to thaw out, I’m glad I went. The Pianist is better than wearing your warmest scarf on Lake Placid. It’s better than watching an ice boat flip and roll on Lake Harriet and it’s better than surviving a fall through that thin ice patch on the Minnesota River. Better than all that. Please movie makers – make more like The Pianist. Historical. Factual. Non-sentimental. Non-glamourous. A Warriors story. Galactic acting. Adrian Brody is top notch. The cinematography of a war ravaged Warsaw is striking and unfathomable. Thank you good cinema. You are a kind and welcoming friend when the mercury drops down low.