Thursday, November 4, 2010

127 Hours Premiere


I came. I saw. I wore latex, do you really want to know about the movie?

Probably not something I would normally see unless I was still with my infamous rock climbing ex, but I still enjoyed the film., which is based on the true story of Aron Ralston, who got stuck in the desert for 127 hours because his hand is pinned by a boulder that fell on him. While I was a girl scout, I'm no regular adventurer, so here is my dominatrix reading of the film:

First of all, safety clown says its always a good idea to tell someone where you are going and have the proper supplies. Do I begin mummification with saran wrap before I have my safety scissors laid out? Fuck no. It's all fun and games until someone loses a hand or can't get out of the mummification before his lunch hour is up.

I was impressed with Aron's single handed rigging with rock climber rope and carabiners to attempt to lift the boulder, but as he quipped, I really need a different kind of rope, a couple of pulleys and eight burly men to do all the work. Surprisingly, I've often had a similar thought. But I'll take the rope advice of a rock climber any day and still have the handmade binder detailing knots etc. lovingly prepared by said ex. (Bonus tip: get retired climbing rope and take out the core, it makes great bondage rope Midori even said so!)

Finally, the bloody gory cutting off his arm part. Considering I am a person who routinely tortures people (with their expressed consent) and has made some lovely bloody messes--this scene didn't really bother me at all. I may be jaded. There was a great build-up and suspense, but honestly I would have tried to cut my arm off by Day 2. Most people were cringing and hiding their faces, including my date Stephen Elliot, but I like to think of it more as snuggling in my latex loveliness, compliments of Atsuko Kudo.

Oh yeah, in the beginning of the film, there was an emergency of someone needing a doctor because apparently a woman was having a diabetic seizure. There was a call to raise the house lights, but it never happened. Leave it to Hollywood to not interrupt anything seemingly important. I personally like to attend to all my medical emergencies in the blasted dark. Perhaps someone had the flashlight app.

Afterwards, there was routine Hollywood boozing, schmoozing and fawning over my dress. Amber Tamblyn, one of the few other people in the movie, couldn't believe that I was still wearing my patent leather sky high stilettos, towering over everyone. I told her I would die before I took them off. She had ditched her Louboutins earlier being in them since the afternoon. I was concerned for their safety as I warned some errant shoe fetishist might make off with them (okay, me) but she assured me they were with her agent. We discussed the power of a great sexy shoe.

What a lovely night!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

My new ultimate dream double-domme session: Miss Justine and Amber Tamblyn.

Mistress Justine Cross - Los Angeles Dominatrix said...

Haha, I'm willing to entertain the idea if she is!