I want to dance in my nightgown with Roberto Benigni to an old blues song, like in Down By Law. I want Naveen Andrews to hoist me up on a rope so I can look at old murals in a bombed-out church, like in The English Patient. (Maybe not by torchlight. I have a light on my phone.) I want to sing and duet with Alan Rickman on piano and cello, like in Truly Madly Deeply, and I want to dance with him at a gas station, like in that video. And I want to dance the Laendler, but make that Alan Rickman again instead of Christopher Plummer. (No offense; I just prefer Rickman.)
I’d like to dance above the lights of L.A. with Ryan Gosling (also the ability to dance and sing well).
I wanted to be the guy in Sonic Youth’s “Dirty Boots” video who meets the girl at the show and they kiss onstage before security chucks them back into the crowd.
And I wish I had the wit to bring flours to a baker on whom I was crushing, like Will Ferrell in Stranger Than Fiction.
I want to be confined to my Greenwich Village apartment with a broken leg in a wheelchair, and get that slo-mo smoochie from Grace Kelly in Hitchcock’s Rear Window.. And then have her walk back in in that nightie she packed in her overnight bag.
Any of Morticia & Gomez’s scenes from the Addams Family movies (“How long has it been since we waltzed?” “Hours”)