I hate the airlines and finally, the end of THE NIGHT PORTER (59)

I spent nearly four and a half hours on the phone yesterday with an assortment of dimwitted airline goons and the impressively unhelpful folk at Orbitz. I'm flying down to SF next weekend and due some fairly hilarious circumstances involving the care of a 2-year old El Salvadorean named Marco, I was trying to change my ticket so I could have an extra evening in the City By The Bay. My ticket when original purchased topped out at a surprisingly low 139 dollars. I'm fine with doling out a little bit of money to appease the capitalist fucks at Air Corporate Greed if it means I can spend another few hours hanging out with the lady friend.

That said, when Orbitz, an online travel agency that I will never use again, explained to me that I'd have to cough up 180 dollars in fines to change said 139 dollar ticket I went a little ballistic. What followed was four and half hours of lying (on my part), wheedling (again, me), pleading (shit, I was desperate) and then finally just swearing incomprehensibly at an Orbitz supervisor who sounded something like a broken Hispanic robot.

I tried everything, just straight changing my ticket (180 dollars), buying another ticket and then skipping my Friday flight (the airlines mark you as a no-show and cancel your return flight, thus forcing you to pay for ... you guessed it, another ticket), pleading with these heartless bastards to change the status of my flights to one-ways so I could cancel one with out affecting the other (this change would also cost me 180 dollars). Finally, I was actually invoking a fake sickness for my long dead Grandma, but the Hispanic Robot told me that I would need medical papers to prove said claim and that finally stopped my nearly five hour battle with the airlines.

I hate the airlines. I hate their lack of compassion or sympathy; I hate their adamant stand on rules and regulations only aimed at raping our collective wallets; I hate that even when you finally get on a plane you're treated like shit by homely stewardesses. United Airlines I hope you go under and I hope in your flailing death seizure you somehow take Orbitz with you.

Airline anger aside, I am so glad I'm finally done with The Night Porter (59). There were so many things about this film I couldn't stand I don't even know where to start. I hated the over-the-top acting and the orchestral score that made it drip with painfully manipulative melodrama. I hated the main actor Dirk Bogarde and his fawning yelps and painfully forced yells of anger. I hated the blatant symbolism between the starving characters at the end of the film and the Nazi Death Camps at the beginning of the film. I hated the stock Nazi caricatures fully equipped with hard-chomped cigs and tightly clenced monocles. I hated the storyline and how every character was despicable to the point of boredom. I hated the way that sexually was portrayed in the film and how the main female actor turned from snobbish high society member to pawing animal in the matter of forty minutes. All in all I just disliked this movie to such a hig degree that I can't put in to words how happy I am it's now never going to be viewed by me ever again.

The only thing about this film I enjoyed was when I passed out watching it in my coffee shop and when I woke up, surrounded by families and old people, there was such a tremendous amount of nudity blasting from my screen that I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Good bye The Night Porter (59) I can only hope few others have to wade through your runny shit river.

Monday: Autumn Sonata (60)