I started talking to this girl and she said she “liked movies”. I ignored her terrible language (the proper word is “kinoma”) and I asked her if she had seen “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives” by Apichatpong Weerasethakul. She said no, so I asked her if she had seen “Melancholia”. “I love Lars von Trier”, she replied — I was dumbfounded — this girl didn’t even know LAV DIAZ?! I picked up my jaw off the floor, and I asked her if she had seen “Ebolusyon ng Isang Pamilyang Pilipino”. (I made sure to enunciate and accent every syllable, since I could tell she was Asian.) She said no, so I asked her if she had seen “Tie Xi Qu: West of the Tracks” by Wang Bing. She said no, so I asked her if she had seen “Xiao Wu” by Jia Zhangke. She said no, so I asked her if she had seen “Terrorizers” by Edward Yang. She said no, so I asked her if she had seen “Bàwáng bié jī” by Chen Kaige. She said no, so in exasperation, I asked her if she had seen “Ichiban utsukushiku” by Akira Kurosawa. No reply. I asked her if she had seen “Wūyā yŭ máquè” by Zheng Junli. Again, no reply.

I was incredulous. Did this beautiful Asian girl really know nothing about the cinematic history of her own beautiful continent? Or… did she know about some secret kinoma, deeper and more obscure than my own admittedly hyper-mainstream tastes? Was she condescending to me because she knew BETTER than me? Impossible, I thought.

I asked her what was her favorite movie, and she said “Leave Me Alone”. I dutifully looked this film up, and found it was a 2004 Hong Kong “thriller” (I always put this word in quotes because I hate the concept of genre). Directed by Danny Pang. I was amazed to see it didn’t compete in Venice OR Cannes — why would it be anyone’s favorite movie, then? I needed to know.

I watched “Ah ma yau nan” (the proper Romanization) five times. I even watched its companion piece “Sei mong se jun”, two times. I read the Wikipedia pages for each three times. But… the conclusion was unavoidable. Both of them were trash. This girl wasn’t a kinoma lover; she was just like the rest of them.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her for five weeks. How can I get over her? She was on the B train heading towards the Bronx, but I am scared to go that far uptown. I hear there are a lot of unsavory characters there, even besides Spider-Man (ugh Marvel). I have never talked to a black man in my life, and at 25, I am not going to start now. Thank you for your advice.