In 1969 I went to a middle-class matinée showing of "Easy Rider". At the break, we all got up to leave, happily surfeited with the phony, sad (and politically correct for the times) ending. Any southern redneck would shoot a hippy on sight. Okay. We bought that and started shifting around in preparation to leaving.
Then as I remember it, a single word appeared on a dead black screen. "Duo". A back-lit ballerina pirhoutted across that screen and danced away from her own still image. She did it again. We were mesmerized.
Ten seconds of stunned silence followed the last frame. The applause that followed had a quality I can only describe as "awed".
Breathtakingly beautiful, that's all.
Then as I remember it, a single word appeared on a dead black screen. "Duo". A back-lit ballerina pirhoutted across that screen and danced away from her own still image. She did it again. We were mesmerized.
Ten seconds of stunned silence followed the last frame. The applause that followed had a quality I can only describe as "awed".
Breathtakingly beautiful, that's all.