The Clock (2010)
December 22nd, 2024
7:17pm – 9:40am
6:34pm
I drop off my suitcase at the Warwick New York. I have a flight to catch tomorrow at noon and have to see past 9:30am, so I won’t have time to go home before leaving for the airport.
6:40pm
Walking to the 53rd street MoMA entrance, I run into Joshua Peinado. He tells me we need to enter on 54th street.
6:50pm
Peinado gets pulled from the line because he has a press pass. I don’t see him again. Eddie Frumkin is only a few spots in front of me in line. I already have to pee.
6:55pm
Over the heads of the people in between us in line, Frumkin tells me about his membership status and that his college and MoMA deem him an artist. Curious, I ask if he makes any art. He happily responds “my life is art!”
6:56pm
I notice the standby line on the other side of the entrance. I don’t get a sense of how long it is but I can only imagine.
6:57pm
I enter the museum, joining a second line inside.
7:00pm
I realize I will likely never see The Clock from 7pm to whenever I get in tonight. I also realize there will not be any opportunity to go to the bathroom before I go in, and especially not once I’m inside. I will have to pee really bad for the next 14 and a half hours.
7:07pm
I get a text saying that The Clock has reached capacity and that they can’t seat me today.
7:09pm
I start talking to the person in front of me in line. We are second and third in line to go upstairs. Her friend walks up to get back in line with her in front of me. They ask if this is okay, and I say yes given that if they let three people up next I can go instead of one of them. They agree. We talk from then until we get inside.
7:17pm
After six distinct lines, the three of us get inside. All seats are taken and a large number of people are standing in the back and along each wall. We head to the right wall and stand pretty close to the screen.
7:25pm
I get a sense of the standing situation. Sitting down is not allowed, for “safety reasons,” so anyone not on a couch has to stand for the entire time they are inside. Anyone sitting down gets told to stand up by security within five minutes.
7:40pm
Someone stands up from the middle seat of the middle couch in the second row back, and one of the women I was with runs and gets it. We are quite lucky.
8:00pm
The two women I’m with swap spots so the one standing can rest. I whisper and ask if I can rotate next, and she lets me know they plan on leaving at 8:30.
8:30pm
The woman standing with me against the wall checks WhatsApp and then taps me to let me know they’re leaving. I walk over to the one sitting down and she stands up. I quietly thank them and sit down. The woman sitting to my right is older and occasionally taking notes in a notebook, and the man to my left has his arms crossed on his chest over his jacket, making me think he is going to stand up and leave every time he adjusts himself.
8:48pm
I start thinking about how I would much rather have one of the sides of the couch, and decide that if one of the people on either side of me stands up I will quickly slide into their spot while people run to sit down.
9:06pm
I realize I want to take notes, and think about what’s in my bag. I know I have a pen, but no paper. I pull out one of my unopened rolls of Kodak Super 8 and start scribbling notes on the box. All of the following notes were written on the boxes of two rolls of Super 8.
10:14pm
Someone stands up from the couch in front of me, and two women from the left wall sprint to take the spot. The woman who doesn’t get it stands up straight in front of everyone in the room and booms “Wow.” As she walks back to the wall, the man to the right of the freshly taken spot in front of me utters something with “faster” in it.
11:05pm
A man on the right wall ironically has an extremely bright smartwatch that is quite distracting. He is there for the next 6-ish hours.
11:41pm
Random people throughout the room erupt in applause at a rather innocuous clip from Taxi Driver. I laugh.
12:04am
Seemingly satisfied by the monumental midnight sequence, the man to my left stands up to leave and I quickly scoot over. A woman takes over the middle spot.
12:10am
The woman on the right side of my couch leaves and someone fills in the spot. They seem to be a friend of the woman sitting next to me.
12:26am
Frumkin, who has been standing at the back the whole time, finally starts making for empty seats. He sprints to one but doesn’t make it.
12:41am
After a few attempts, Frumkin finally gets a seat.
12:46am
Someone triumphantly enters, walks to the front of the side wall, opens up a foldable chair, and sits down. I look around, curious if the security guard will allow this pseudo-breaking of the rules. This is also notably the first person who walks in wearing their winter clothes, presumably from the standby line.
12:57am
The security guard does her rounds and leaves the man in the foldable chair alone.
1:36am
The woman on the far right of my couch swaps out for who appears to be the woman in the middle’s boyfriend.
1:49am
After sliding down in my seat to be more comfortable, a woman walks up to me from the left side of the room and authoritatively says “it’s not nap time. There are people who actually want to watch this while you guys are sleeping.” I stare back at her, sort of in shock. She asks if I am even watching, and when I don’t respond she asks if I heard her, to which I reply “what do you think I’m doing?” She walks away, dejected.
2:15am
The audience claps at another seemingly innocuous scene, this time from Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Multiple clips from the movie have played previously to no fanfare. I feel like I’m missing something.
3:01am
Scattered applause at GZA and RZA in Coffee and Cigarettes. Someone on the right wall hollers “Wu Tang!”
4:07am
The main screencap from the film finally shows up, and it turns out it’s from Frantic.
7:00am
Frumkin exclaims “damn!” at the automatic breakfast machine from Back to the Future III.
7:04am
The couple next to me leaves, and is quickly replaced by another couple.
9:40am
I leave and head straight for the airport.
Carter Haskins 