Since noting the audience's reaction to "Gosford Park" last weekend, I've been mulling over some thoughts on perception. Curiously enough, a few days before seeing it, I had one of those nights when I couldn't sleep, so I wound up watching the last hour or so of Antonioni's "Blowup."

The premise centers on a jaded fashion photographer in London who has become bored with his job. To the point that he has been taking hidden camera shots at a homeless shelter as part of a new project. He visits a park and starts shooting random footage. He photographs a woman and an older man; the woman approaches and asks for the film; he refuses. She tracks him down to his studio and again tries to obtain the photos. He gives her a phony roll of film. He begins to blowup the photos and eventually discovers what may be a gun in the shadow of the foilage. And then he believes he sees a body. At one point he returns to the park and sees that indeed there is a body, but he flees when he hears noises in the brush. Back at the studio, he sees that all the photos have been removed. He again goes out and tries to convince some friends of what he has seen; but the friends are too stoned to care.

This is an overview that really does not do the film justice. So much of the power is in the images. The film is littered with the stills of the photographer: naked men in the shelter, fashion shots, an incredible view of a desert caravan and, of course, the blowups. Then as the camera follows him through the city, you're taken on an almost pyschedelic journey through 60s London. (Antonioni had his crew re-paint almost all the exteriors before he filmed.)

If ever there was a movie about seeing or not seeing, this is it. At the end he finds himself at a tennis court surrounded by students dressed as mimes watching an "imaginary" tennis match. (Part of "Rag Day," I'm told.) By now, the "imaginary" game has more reality than what he may or may not have encountered before.

How does this relate to "Gosford Park"? Everyone in the audience was looking at the same physical film. But there were radically different "views." Some saw an English murder mystery. Some, a comedy. Some, a parody. Some, a re-telling of "Upstairs, Downstairs."

Speaking of cinema. In late February, the Crossroads Film Festival will appear. This year is very exciting because we're also going to be part of the Library of Congress Film Preservation Tour. A chance to see any number of movies, as they were intended to be seen, on the silver screen.

Did you know that Moby keeps an on-line journal? Yep, THE Moby. Find out about it in the latest "Rolling Stone." Reading his thoughts makes me love his work even more. Visit Moby.Com.

Tuesday evening, I watched a fascinating documentary on AMC about William Haines. An openly gay actor of the 20s and 30s who was among the biggest stars of Hollywood. That is until he was given an ultimatum by MGM czar Louis B. Mayer to go into the closet or lose his job. He chose the latter and became one of Hollywood's most successful interior designers. Thanks in part to the support of his friend Joan Crawford. A touching and revealing story that I'm sure most are not aware of.

PAX!