What's the best movie of all time?
Sorry, can't do it. There are too many films I love to name just one. I would suggest that everybody watch the Brainiac (a cheapo '60s Mexican horror flick) at least once in their life, though.
What movie makes you think most of Tucson?
There's a scene in Winter Kills where Eli Wallach meets Ralph Meeker in a hotel room in Tucson (perhaps Hotel Congress?) to arrange a hit. The scene is only a few minutes long but manages to evoke what Tucson must've felt like in the '50s to all the mob guys who started showing up. "Don't order the Wild West pastrami."
Who's your favorite movie personality?
Fellini. Even his bad films have moments in them that leave me awestruck.
What's your favorite movie snack?
Jordan almonds. Texture, texture, texture.
Where's your favorite place in Tucson to catch a flick?
For me, nothing equals seeing a movie at the original New Loft theater on Sixth Street, but the Loft's current Speedway location comes pretty close to capturing that lost spirit.
Best health club?
Tucson Racquet and Fitness Club. Why? Late-night lap swimming, my friend.
Any embarrassing cinematic experiences in your life?
I bawled like a baby after watching Escape From the Planet of the Apes, partly because I left my denim jacket in the theater, but mostly because they killed the baby chimp at the end.
Best movie filmed in Tucson?
Night of the Lepus. It's a terrible film, but I love the fact that somebody thought the idea of giant attacking rabbits could actually be scary. Cocaine is a hell of a drug.
Best cheap eats?
Yoshimatsu. Fresh, simple, lovingly made and easy on the wallet.
Best day chore?
Driving across town in a car with no AC and arriving at the 17th Street Market overheated and dripping wet. I head straight to the produce section and am immediately surrounded by cool air, vibrant colors and wonderful smells. A sensual kick in the ass.
Best local time warp?
Driving on East Pima Street puts me right back in 1970s Tucson. I can't really explain it, but the combination of storefronts, restaurants and homes sends me back in time to when KWFM ruled the airwaves and the Crazy Man hosted crappy movies on late-night TV.
Most underrated Tucsonan?
My Mom. While she could be comfortably retired, she instead works quietly for the No More Deaths campaign out in the field, for the simple reason that she can't stand the thought of another man, woman, or child dying while crossing the desert. To me, that's a true Tucsonan.