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Drat the technical difficulties.

It was right after the mother started cutting out pieces of her body to feed to her son that the movie stopped.

By that point, the guy eating his pregnant girlfriend was a distant memory.

Still, you hate to lose that momentum when you're engrossed in a film about making a film about a difficult son and the parents who love him.

Did I mention that it wasn't a romantic comedy?

A friend was having a get-together to show her husband's opus (two years in the making) to a few friends.

I didn't expect to know anyone except her and her brother so I was pleasantly surprised to happen on one of my favorite musicians and his roommates.

One of them is in "Lincoln" (although these days, who isn't?) spurring talk of locals growing long beards, metro-sexual barely-there beards and long hours at the Ballet.

The movie was very well done with some fine performances, causing a woman near me to whisper to her husband about calling someone she knows in California about distributing it.

Now that's the kind of friend you want to invite to see your husband's movie, not useless people like me. Even if I am a huge fan of local filmmakers.

All I could offer was much heartfelt laughter at the dry humor that permeated the movie.

And I could only do that when my eyes weren't squeezed shut to avoid seeing all the spurting blood and oozing flesh.

Now that I think about it, I'm lucky they invited me at all.

Good thing I can laugh.