Capturing the Friedmans is a movie you all should see. It's best if you go in without too much foreknowledge of what's to come, because about ten minutes into this collection of interview footage and old home movies, an abyss opens up beneath your feet, and it just gets deeper, and deeper, and deeper. It's as close to a guided tour of hell as such an even-handed, outwardly calm movie can be, and it's cunningly constructed to keep the revelations coming up until the final scene. At the screening I attended, Jesse Friedman was in the audience, and was handing out cards to people as they left, with links to his personal web site. The fact that he was there was astonishing; even more amazing was the fact that I took the card politely and shrugged off the encounter as just another inexplicable moment, part of that ongoing chapter of my life filed under "New York City."