Bunuel_Luis_My_Last_Breath

AmericaT WAS 1930, and L'Age d'm still hadn't been shown. Thede Noailles were away, but they gave me the key to theirprivate projection room (the first for "talkies" in Paris) so that Icould have a private screening for my surrealist friends. Beforethe film started, however, the group decided to sample the bar,and before long they were all roaring drunk, particularly Thirionand Tzara. In the end, whatever liquor was left was emptied intothe sink, and despite the chaos the screening was a great success.(True to form, when the de Noailles returned a few days later,they never mentioned the empty bottles; all they wanted to knowwas how the movie had gone.)Thanks to my patrons, a representative from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer managed to see the film and, like so many Americans, wasdelighted to find himself on such good terms with the aristocracy.Afterwards, he insisted I drop by and see him at his office. I declinedas impolitely as I could, but he was adamant, and in the end Ireluctantly agreed."Saw your movie," he announced when I walked in, "and I'vegot to tell you I didn't like it. Didn't understand the first thing