Have you always wanted to attend a big film festival? Be lost in a sea of film fans, folks that know the names of Sturges and Cronenberg, Goddard and Ritchie... Classy art and pop contrivances? Film fans that sip from cinema as the only nourishment that they take in as regular as air itself?

But Mom and Dad... won't let ya go. You live on a farm, in the projects... You have to work... You dream of going to a grand film festival like... THE NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL, but... alas... it is too far away... it costs too much...

You are dying to see films like CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON, you are occasionally bothered with the thought that perhaps SONY won't get 100% behind the film to the point where this movie will reach screen number 2000, which is the one... right down the street from your abode. You fear it will reach only 800 domestic screens, and you'll never know the cinematic bliss of Ziyi Zhang or the pure majesty of Peter Pau's cinematography or the aural joy of Tan Dun's score with the Yo Yo Ma heart-wrenching strings...

BUT... you like to imagine yourself in that big New York Theater... Watching this triumph... feeling those exhilarating throat lumps and cascading tears of joy as you rise to your feet to applaud the film alongside this manic mob...

That applause has died... you are suddenly sitting again, and a lone man dashes to the single spotlit microphone upon the stage with the blank silver screen behind him. He reaches the microphone, and begins to introduce the man... no... the DIRECTOR responsible for the sheer joy you have inside of you.

Below you have two links... a Quicktime and a WAV... both contain the same thing. An audio recording of Ang Lee at Monday Night's NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL screening of CROUCHING TIGER HIDDEN DRAGON. Choose your format... click... close your eyes and imagine.... you've just seen it... that thrill you haven't had since the MATRIX first ended is inside of you... and here is the man that's created that thrill... Imagine you are there... enjoy...

Thanks goes out to Tey How... the hands you hear closest clapping... and his unnamed friend with the cough, I'll call Lunger