C&C 65: February Follies

I deign to make public appearances this month, plus recommendations

Say this for February: it may be short, but it packs a lot of cold and darkness into a scant number of days. It’s tempting to hunker down and isolate. I’m feeling the urge myself after the hellish January recently put behind us. Which is why I’m glad my month has plenty on the docket. Now more than ever, it’s vital to be out in the world.

The main event? That would be Noir City Seattle, rolling back into town from February 14—20. This year’s festival has been forced to decamp from its home on Capitol Hill (thanks, burst pipe) to the SIFF Cinema Downtown, formerly known as the Cinerama, forever known as one of my favorite movie theaters in the country, so I’m focusing on the silver lining in this mishap.

Our pal Eddie Muller, host of TCM’s Noir Alley and honcho of the Film Noir Foundation, has programmed a dazzling lineup of titles spotlighting the women of noir, and not always the femmes fatales. Eddie will serve as master of ceremonies on opening weekend, then yours truly takes over those duties from February 17—20, with Rosemarie making guest appearances as her schedule permits. Here’s our portion of the festival.

Monday, February 17 – Murder, My Sweet (1944) / My True Story (1951) – both in 35mm

Tuesday, February 18 – Raw Deal (1948) / The Killing (1956)

Wednesday, February 19 – Detour (1945) / Phantom Lady (1944, new 4K digital restoration)

Thursday, February 20 – The Long Wait (1954) / Ace in the Hole (1951)

Not a dud double bill in the bunch. I particularly can’t wait to introduce people to the gonzo, perpetually horny Mickey Spillane amnesia yarn The Long Wait.

At 7 PM on February 13, the night before Noir City kicks off, I’ll be at the Lake Forest Park outpost of Third Place Books in conversation with Kate Alice Marshall. I’ve known Kate for years, our friendship predating her becoming a best-selling author of thrillers. Her latest, A Killing Cold, is a gothic-tinged white-knuckle read with a can’t-miss premise. Our conversation should be a good time. If you’re in the Seattle area, stop by the bookstore or the theater. If you’re not, take yourself to a movie, get together with people you know, drop into a bar and talk to strangers. We need you out here.

What I’m Watching

Presence (2025). This haunted-house movie is the logical outcome of the found-footage genre as well as a prompt from my stint writing videogames: What if you could play as the ghost? Director Steven Soderbergh, who’s also his own cinematographer under the nom de caméra Peter Andrews, essentially is the title specter, prowling a sprawling suburban house, overhearing the secrets and observing the fissures threatening to splinter the family that just moved in. The script by David Koepp, who wrote and directed the underrated Richard Matheson adaptation Stir of Echoes (1999), plants its seeds beautifully. Some might think the stakes in this precisely-scaled, intimate story are too low, but it builds to a powerful closing scene—and shot—that in no way feel small. Like all ghost stories, it’s sad. This movie is the latest reminder that Soderbergh and Koepp, who previously collaborated on the dandy technothriller Kimi (2022), are the rare contemporary filmmakers who likely would have flourished in the studio era. They’re certainly working on that dream-factory timetable; they have another movie, the star-studded espionage drama Black Bag, opening next month.

Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat (2024). This Oscar nominee for Best Documentary, now on Kanopy, takes some mighty big swings. It tells two complex, interlinked stories, one about the 1961 assassination of Congolese politician Patrice Lumumba at the behest of moneyed interests and with the complicity of the United States government, the other charting the demands on Black jazz musicians seen as part of America’s cultural vanguard at a time when segregation continued to hold sway. (Louis Armstrong was sent to Africa as a “jazz ambassador” by the State Department and correctly surmised that he was being used.) Writer/director Johan Grimonprez ratchets up the degree of difficulty by eschewing the traditional talking heads and relying on archival testimony and a bold graphic approach that makes every rigorously sourced quote look like a Blue Note album cover. Whenever the link between the two strands starts to feel tenuous, the music drops back in with the lethal force of a Max Roach drumbeat. It held me rapt for two and a half hours, offering a much-needed dose of perspective: shady shit is always happening.

What I’m Drinking

First, a fantastic deep-dive essay by David Wondrich for Punch about our current era of over-the-top creativity in cocktails, how it fits into the history of American drinking, and where we could be going next. I see Wondrich’s point, as evidenced by the stripped-down beverages from San Francisco’s Stoa I’ve featured lately. At the same time, I go to cocktail bars specifically for the kind of extravagant imagination on display, as well as the effort I’m unlikely to put in at home.

The Kingston Negroni became a modern staple thanks to the innovative tinkering of bartender Joaquín Simó, who swapped Smith & Cross rum for gin in a classic Negroni. The Bridgetown Negroni makes an additional tweak, deploying a favorite new spirit: Planteray’s Cut & Dry coconut rum. Nothing like the cloying products of the past, Cut & Dry infuses an aged-rum base with coconut that has been sun-dried to intensify the flavor, resulting in a serious, adult taste. It adds a sophisticated tropical burst to any rum or tiki drink, and goes down easy on its own. It also plays well with Campari or the red bitter of your choice in a Negroni. This is the kind of inventiveness we can all endorse.

Bridgetown Negroni

• 1 oz. Planteray Cut & Dry coconut rum

• 1 oz. Campari or other red bitter

• 1 oz. sweet vermouth

Stir. Strain into a rocks glass over a single large ice cube.