"I would, but I need the eggs."

Annie Hall came out in theaters the year I was born. While I’m sure my father made me watch it at some point in my Woody-Allen-speckled childhood, I have no memory of seeing it since I was conscience enough to understand the jokes. So last night, I sat on the giant lawn of Bryant Park along with 10,000 other New Yorkers as we waited anxiously for the sun to go down and the classic romantic comedy to begin.



Three hours Claire and I waited in the overcrowded, noisy mob. The people to our left enjoyed their burritos and card game while those on our right had a full spread complete with champagne and candlelight. It was quite a scene.

But despite the waiting and the crowd, the helicopters overhead and the fire trucks drowning out the jokes, it was totally worth it. The Bryant Park Film Festival brings out a camaraderie in folks. Whether they’ve lived in New York their whole lives, moved here last year like me, or just arrived last month, we all laughed together at Woody Allen’s New York humor. A group guffaw erupted when Annie Hall complained that her studio apartment in Manhattan cost a whole $400 a month (!) And even I couldn’t help but grin when he referred to California as a place “where the only cultural advantage is that you can make a right turn on a red light.”