There was a period in my life in which the majority of my interests at any given time were dictated by the pudgy, wild-haired lead singer of The Cure. If Robert Smith sang about it, I was bound to spend some time researching it. Ultimately, Cure lyrics aren't all that deep, so I can't say I really came through this phase with much useful knowledge. Camus was over my head, and in hindsight, I wish I had spent less time studying sexually obtuse lyrics about cats. I did come away with one good experience, though--Bob's preoccupation with all things C-a-i-r-o led me to Cairo Station, a twisted and beautiful noir film about romantic obsession. I recall watching it with the vague notion that it would be similar to Casablanca somehow (exotic location, enduring love story) and ending up with my jaw on the floor at the utter darkness and potent sexuality of the 1958 Youssef Chahine masterpiece. This snapshot of the lives of the Egyptian underclass living in abandoned train cars has been recently remastered, lending a new crispness to the film that was banned in Egypt for more than a decade. Cairo Station plays at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, 3200 Darnell St., as part of the Magnolia at the Modern series. Showtimes are at 6 and 8 p.m. Friday, 5 p.m. Saturday, and 2 and 4 p.m. Sunday. Tickets are $8.50. Visit themodern.org/magnolia.
March 20-22, 2009