Cuckoo Clocks Aren't Swiss

Richmond, you did right by the cinema gods again.

Who knew there were enough people left in town over Labor Day weekend to fill up the Byrd Theater and far too many still to fit into New York Deli for the afterparty?

It didn't hurt that the Bijou crew - the folks on a mission to build a small arthouse theater here - had chosen a brilliant movie, "The Third Man," to lure people away from grills and backyard drinking for a good cause.

As my friends can attest, I'm notorious for not having seen enough classic films (partly because I don't watch films on TV), but I was far from the only one. An awful lot of hands shot up when the question was asked, "Who hasn't seen this film?" and from behind me, I hard a man react, "Wow!"

Obviously, I'm not the only one lacking in vintage film viewing.

My excitement about the screening had me inviting lots of friends to the event and then spotting even more at the theater, on the streets, in line. Clearly Bijou people are my people.

The evening began with friends Pru and Beau at Metzger for dinner, chosen for its non-proximity to the Byrd Theater. I understand the appeal of park once, party twice, I really do, but I'm also sage enough to anticipate every Carytown restaurant being mobbed as a result of that thinking.

Not for us the crowds. In fact, we were the first customers in Metzger, soon plowing through a bottle of Anton Bauer Rose (because Austrian wine before a movie set in Vienna, duh), a cheese and charcuterie board (let's have a moment of reverence for the orgasmic triple-cream Brillat Savarin), smoked tomato soup, pastrami smorrebrod (the horseradish quark a highlight), Arctic char and the heirloom tomato tart, all set to a soundtrack of my favorite vintage soul (the reliably fabulous Mr. Fine Wine).

But once in Carytown, the mellow vibe vanished and I soon heard my name called from a passing car. It was the scooter queen and her beloved in search of a bite before the Psychic TV show at Strange Matter. In fact, I knew several friends who'd chosen music over movie tonight.

That's a first world problem, choosing between a classic Brit film and an experimental Brit band. We've got it so tough in Richmond.

Once in the line to get in that snaked along Cary Street and around the corner down Colonial Avenue, the parade of friends began in earnest: the movie club mastermind, the theater critic, the conga player with his violinist wife, lots of WRIR volunteers, a favorite guitarist and doughnut lover, the former neighbor, the bass player, the A/V expert. All the cool kids.

Inside the theater, it was all energy and excitement as people found seats, spotted friends and settled in for a classic film. After raffle drawings (I didn't win), info from manager Todd about the Byrd's fancy new projector and an introduction about the film, we finally got to the beautifully restored version of "The Third Man."

From the opening frames - with the completely unique credit "Zither music by Anton Karas" - the film was a thing of beauty with atmospheric shots of post-war Vienna making it look like alternately the most romantic place on earth and the most seedy. Harsh lighting and dramatic shadows reigned supreme.

An unabashed fan, I've read plenty of Graham Greene's works -"Brighton Beach," "The Heart of the Matter," "The End of the Affair," "The Quiet American, "Travels with My Aunt" to name just a few - yet I'd never read this one, making it all the more appealing for not having a clue where the story was going.

The beauty of it was how well executed the script and performances were, sucking in the audience completely. No one plays the alcoholic American quite like Petersburg boy Joseph Cotten.

It's for exactly that reason that I love going to the movies and experiencing a film with strangers. The shared experience of watching a story unfold, getting to know and like (or abruptly dislike) characters, the moments of tension and surprise shared with others around me is, in my opinion, the whole point of watching a movie.

For that matter, tonight's screening perfectly demonstrated why the Bijou Film Center is precisely what Richmond needs. There are far too many of us who haven't seen important movies like "The Third Man" or for those who have, only on small screens at home. No, thank you.

That's not a movie experience and it's nothing like what director Carol Reed was striving to accomplish with this film.

It's about the shared experience of hearing someone behind me react, like when the cat snuggles up to a shadowed man's feet and the guy behind me whispers, "Oh, my god, it's Harry!" or when the affable Sergeant Paine is killed in the sewers and a woman nearby couldn't help exclaiming, "Oh, no, not him!"

Won't it be cool when the Bijou has a regular location where we can have these kind of shared film events week in and week out?

It's going to take all of us to make it happen and hopefully sooner rather than later. Given last night's sizable and enthusiastic crowd, I don't see any reason to think it won't.

In the meantime, it was a hell of an offering to the cinema gods.