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Close Up (Jul-Dec 1930)

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CLOSE UP IT HAPPENED IN BRUXELLES . . . " I am going to Bruxelles," I repeated to myself after reading in the Daily Express tliat the Scheldt had risen ten feet in an hour, to see films. I must forget what the sea looked like when I stepped off the quay at Dover. I must forget that I had tea in a mental cafe at Ostende ; blinds half drawn and light at a halt, neither coming or going. In other words I must not for a moment think that I am writing Star Dust in HolJyu'ood/^ Yet Bruxelles seemed a film city when my taxi took me to the hotel. (The driver driving with one hand and winding up the meter with the other. Later, I decided that he must be the comic relief and gave him a tip.) As a stranger I was amazed at the frozen close ups, the busts of holy men. Moreover, my guide book, on consultation, drew, like a patient schoolmaster, mv attention to whole frozen long shots : Slave Attacked by Dogs bv Semain. I-am-going-to-Bruxelles-to-see-films. I obtained Le Soir. The cinemas were " passing " Le Spectre Vert (French talkie made in Hollywood), Troika, Nuit d^angoisse and The Blue Express (at the avant-garde cinema in the Palais des Beaux-Arts which has been open two years and reports grand success with Chien Andalou and 404