Purgatory praise

I had to write to tell you how thrilled I am by the Mirror and the weekly reviews by Rick Trembles [Motion Picture Purgatory].

My partner Bill and I are filmmakers from San Francisco. Our "featurette" Vanilla just recently had its North American premiere at the Montreal Image+Nation International Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, and we were lucky enough to come to Montreal for the event. Before we left, I contacted Rick to see if he might be interested in reviewing our film for the paper. It took weeks for our screener and press kit to reach him, and by the time we arrived in Montreal I had given up on ever finding out what he thought of our film.

Imagine our surprise upon arriving to turn through the pages of the Mirror and find his review of our film! We were so thrilled! Not only was his review hysterically funny (I only wish our film was that cool!) but Rick insightfully hit upon all the main points of the film and offered us a real opportunity to reach many more viewers than we would have without it.

His reviews are so wonderful: I only wish we had somebody like him in the States! And the fact that Rick is willing to review a small film like ours, in addition to Hollywood movies and Quebec features, is to me the mark of a true critic. I believe Rick understands the plight of the struggling "little-guy" artist, can recognize quality work no matter what the length or format, and as a result can offer his strip as a voice to those in need. He certainly helped us find our audience. I would have enjoyed his review even if he hadn't liked our film (though probably not as much…).

Montreal has a real treasure in Rick Trembles. I look forward to his future reviews and to returning to Montreal as soon as humanly possible.

» Joe Graham, San Francisco

Anglo integration

I find it hard to identify with this back and forth between Montreal and Quebec City of late, with its most recent incarnation in the form of a plea for linguistic togetherness in Montreal from Deepak Awasti ["Quebecers unite!" Letters, Oct. 7].

Deepak writes that, "Having lived in the anglophone ghetto, perhaps for too many years… I would say that we anglos consider ourselves outsiders still." What does he expect in this French-speaking microcosm on an English-speaking continent (a continent, I must add, with the biggest linguistic and cultural influence in the world)?

As an anglophone, I have full sympathy for the francophone impulse to keep their culture from being washed over by the U.S./Ontario wave. There are many like me. Though we live primarily in English, we're conscientious of local ways, speak broken French when in doubt and dare to venture further east than St-Laurent. You could call that "outsider status," if you want, but then so is the status of most of the city's immigrant communities. If those are the rules, there are plenty of us non-francophones who are happy being outsiders. It's largely the French that makes this city such an interesting place to live, despite the relative lack of decent jobs for anglophones and the trying winters. If that doesn't suit, there are plenty of other places to hang your hat just hours away.

While Mr. Awasti stresses unity across the linguistic divide, he's a step behind many of us in saying, "Let us set aside our distrust, our hatred and disrespect for each other." For many anglos who have either settled or chosen to stay in Montreal, we already have.

» Tammy Dunlop

Restaurant name racist?

Regarding your review of Chine Toque [Resto, Oct. 7]: placing the consideration of food aside, do you have any idea how insensitive and offensive the name of this restaurant is? The English equivalent of a restaurant like this would be "The Chink." Funny? Tell me if you think the following names for the restaurants would be funny too: The Nigger House, Paki-Eatery, Spear-Chucker Meals, Jew-boy Resto, Polack Inn, Resto for Wops. Fortunately, at least those examples are all made up.

» Jack

Smokin' psychos

Pot makes people murderous ["Blame Mary Jane," Oct. 7]? It must be this new strain of killer weed everyone's been talking about. M-16 or whatever. Come to think of it, as soon as I finish this bag of Doritos, I might go out and join those red-eyed crazies.

Ever since I got stoned and masturbated in '98, I've had horrendously hairy palms. This has led to a life of relative isolation in which I've done little but smoke more pot and play Grand Theft Auto, further propelling my violent urges. Please note: I also listen to heavy metal music.

I hereby urge all my fellow potheads to maybe get some food and eventually lift themselves off their couches, go outside and destroy - if, that is, marijuana hasn't turned you into a chronic psycho killer already.

» Bruce Bryson

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