I have a correction to this week's feature this week about Dan Halsted, curator of the Grindhouse film festival. In the story, I caught up with Halsted to talk about his recent unearthing of 200 kung fu films at a closed-down theater in a crack alley in Canada, and how they're all gonna be screened at the Hollywood Theater over the coming months. Halsted's story grabbed me the minute I heard about it—it just seemed like his dream had come true. Like, if you were really into cake, and you walked into this room, and it was full of free cake, that's how it would feel. Only it's grindhouse movies. I can't help thinking there's a High Fidelity-style screenplay (except with film, instead of vinyl, dummy) in it somewhere, or at least a short documentary.
The correction is as follows: In the story, I wrote:
Born and raised in rural Oregon, Halsted seems modest and unassuming despite being over six feet tall. He wears Adidas, drinks drip coffee, and smiles only rarely.
Halsted wrote this morning with the following:
sometimes I drink malt liquor and smile like a motherfucker
That is all. "The important thing is that kung fu cinema is saved," says Halsted, "and I’m glad there was some interest in this weird adventure after all the work I put into it." Enjoy the story.
