In the film there is a sense of nostalgia for past days, when a local shop (in this film a tobacconist’s) stood for a meeting place where people could share their ideas, pay one another company and most of all feel united by common values (e.g. friendship, etc.)
What do you feel nostalgic of?
The sequel Blue in the Face, did not meet the critic approval as Smoke. Can you say why? Is there anything you did not appreciate of the movie?
Both in Smoke and Blue in the Face, the film director and the filmscript writer, chose famous actors or celebrities from other artistic fields. Why? What is the effect?
Can you explain the title “Blue in the Face”? The dictionary meaning is “exhausted and speechless, as from excessive anger, physical strain, etc.”. Does this make sense?
What is the view you get of New York? (consider not only the scenes, but also what the actors say about it)
The story goes that when director Wayne Wang and writer Paul Auster were making Smoke, a story about the regulars in a Brooklyn cigar store, they felt such a richness in the characters that they were reluctant to stop after the filming was completed. With their star, Harvey Keitel, as a ringleader, they talked Miramax out of enough money to make another film, right then and there, on the same location, with some of the same actors, plus various celebrities they talked into doing walk-ons.
The new film, called Blue in the Face, was shot in six days, and sometimes feels like it. The movie begins well, with an early scene where Mira Sorvino plays a woman whose purse is snatched in front of the store. Keitel races after the little boy who grabbed it, and hauls him back to the store, only to discover that Sorvino has taken pity on him and doesn't want to press charges. Keitel, who has seen a lot of purses snatched, tells her the cops should be called, and when Sorvino doesn't budge, what he does next follows a certain seductive logic.
The store's owner (Victor Argo) reveals to Keitel, his manager, that he plans to close down the cigar shop and sell out to a health food chain. Keitel tries to explain that the store is a valuable part of the neighbourhood - that people use it to touch base and stay in touch, and that when enough places close, a neighbourhood dies.
That theme leads to memories of the Brooklyn Dodgers, and the way that Brooklyn died a small death when they moved out of town.
There are memories of the Dodgers, augmented with flashbacks, and then a surprise visitor to the store - Jackie Robinson (famous baseball player), turning up like an outtake from "Field of Dreams."
Here’s an excerpt that features the two best parts, monologues from Lou Reed and Jim Jarmusch:
Lou Reed on living in New York:
I’m scared of my own apartment. I’m scared twenty-four hours a day, but not necessarily in New York. I actually feel pretty comfortable in New York. I get scared, like, in Sweden. You know, it’s kind of empty, they’re all drunk. Everything works. If you stop at a stop light and don’t turn your engine off people come over and talk to you about it. You go to the medicine cabinet and open it up and there’ll be a little poster saying, “In case of suicide, call…” You turn on the TV and there’s an ear operation. These things scare me. New York? No.
Jim Jarmusch smoking his last cigarette ever:
Why is it in every movie there’s a shootout, and when they run out of bullets, they fling the gun away? Like it’s a disposable cigarette lighter or something. What’s up with that? Guns cost a lot of money. Can’t you reload it? You know what I’m saying? They always throw the gun out. And another thing in movies I think is real weird, like war movies, Nazis in movies. Why do they always smoke like in some weird way…like this? [Holds cigarette upright, between ring and pinky finger] Yah, vee haf vays of making you talk, Auggie.
Let's start with one of Auster's quotations. I would love you to respond to it. So ... activate your brains and unlock your imagination. Let's see if as a starter, this can tickle your appetite for one of America's leading contemporary writers. "Whenever I complete a book, I'm filled with a feeling of immense disgust and disappointment. It's almost a physical collapse. I'm so disappointed by my feeble efforts that I can't believe I've actually spent so much time and accomplished so little. It takes years before I'm able to accept what I've done - to realize that this was the best I could do. But I never like to look at the things I've written. The past is the past, and there's nothing I can do about it any more. The only thing that counts is the project I'm working on now. Beckett once said in one of his stories, 'No sooner is the ink dry that it revolts me'". (from "The Red Notebook")
These are some comments about the film you are going to watch tomorrow. 
Tomorrow’s film is based on Paul Auster’s novel “The Music of Chance”.
