Dec 31, 2011

What did The Wife & I do on New Years Eve 2011?

We ate ribs.  Leftover ribs from Everett and Jones.  (Thanks, Mum & Da.)  (Mum & Da are at this moment safely tucked in to their bed; the duvet, shall we say, colder Tulsa than Bay Area; or just aboot to reach that blissful existence.)  We drank nearly (95%, the Pinot Meunier is the hang up, the grower has to buy that existentially small amount of red fruit to make his Champagne the glowing, fantastic wine that it is) Grower Champagne.  We watched Scott Pilgrim vs The World.  We drank (I drank) Keenan 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon.  My Sweetie fell asleep on my lap.  I had a cigarette outside, took another sip. and now I am here.  Here.  Now.

************

Michael David Spitler sings, "Love and Rockets are my friends/Love and Rockets are my friends/David! Kevin! Daniel!"

Generally my experiences w/ customers this holiday season were good.  My fave was the not so attractive but not not attractive Mum & daughter on Xmas Eve.  "He just flirted w/ you," sed the Mum to her daughter as I tried to sell her Cabernet.  I was not the "He" in this picture.  The "He" was a customer, passing by.  They had a v good laugh and we resumed our boring, expected business.  But this Mum was special (and great), she barely fought w/ me o'er a recommendation and exclaimed (rightly), "Now, I'm flirting with you."  Her daughter thought it was a hoot.  It was.  They bought great wine.  They are my new heroes.

*************

Where was I?

*************

Elegant stitching presumes class and reveals dough.  Elegant wine presumes class and reveals taste, which is something that no matter how much money you have hoarded, if you are failing in that one crucial regard, it is a failing that could (and should) cripple you.

*************

We are here in the Human Jungle; desperate for the sex and travel, desperate for the wink, the shift of a female hip; the attention paid to an old man, stuttering, as he speaks of Pre-Code films, a language ne'er nearly any young woman might understand.  It pays, pays, to be truly understood and respected these daies.

Where would one be right now? Where would we all be?

It is a v strange (but most beautiful) New Years.

Angel,

Sit on my lap,

I'll kiss you until kisses run out.





mds




Dec 30, 2011

The documentary Senna does not

Play like a documentary, at all.  It plays like an extremely well written scripted drama.  Many of the clues dropped in the "script", as it were, are really red herrings, trips in to a chicane on the course of the drama as it unfolds.  Plus, there is nary a talking head to be seen.  All the interviews are part of the soundtrack, with each witness meticulously noted in one of the bottom corners of the screen.  The entire film consists of racing footage; "backstage" footage of Ayrton Senna, other drivers, FIA officials, etc, ... ; and numerous clips of interviews with Senna himself.  The footage from Senna's perspective driving on the great Grand Prix of the world is breathtaking.  It appears as if he is always driving in a completely straight line throughout the race.  And I do not know poop about cars but even I was amazed that Senna won a race in his native Brazil with a broken gear box for the last dozen laps or so, finishing the race while only being able to drive in sixth gear.  Plus the music on the soundtrack, most of it by fellow Brazilian, Antonio Pinto, is absolutely stellar, too.

It is a particularly gripping little drama and one of the best films I have seen this year, very highly recommended.

************

There is one major flaw in The Extra Man that v nearly undermines the entire film but I will not speak of it here because it might spoil the picture for those who have not seen it yet.

Despite that, I liked the film a good deal.  Paul Dano is the real star here.  He gives a fabulous, tactfully stagey, comedic performance here that, quite frankly, I never even suspected he had in him.  I obv have underestimated him.  And I greatly look forward to seeing more fun work from him.

Not as highly recommended as Senna, but The Extra Man is still a good watch.



Kisses, Happy New Year,
I loooove my new Apple TV!

Ardent


Dec 27, 2011

Those motherfucking Oblivians,

They never played Christina stateside when they were a touring act, cross this great nation of ours.

Memphish rules!


md effing s

(those bastards)

ENJOY!

javelin boot - "would you believe me?"

What fun!

Just for joshing around I figured I would check to see if I could buy "albums" by one of my fave Austim bands, Javelin Boot, on iTunes. 

Yup, they were available, both The Schwa Sound and The Mauve Album. 

What fantastic fun! Javelin Boot were a pop trio, guitar/bass/drums, where all three wrote and sang lead.  They recorded their original material for their "records" (my original copy of The Schwa Sound was on cassette) but earned their wages by being a fantastic cover band, playing the nine million University of Texas Frat Parties.  Their Frat shows and their Club shows (where they played mostly originals) were both great. 

So, I have been listening to The Schwa Sound over and over again non-stop, lately.  If I can figure out a way to share some of these tracks w/ you folks, I will.


Hmmmm, great old Austim Pop Music! Those were the days, kids.
 (And, btw, for Dave Barber, Kristin, Kate, Allison, and other residents of the Smoking Lounge at the University of Texas Drama Building, one of the songs on The Schwa Sound, Alone, -- so the rumor goes -- is about our fellow student, Jennifer Beautiful Hair.  Where is Jennifer Beautiful Hair these days?)

Dec 22, 2011

The entry level cure,

Better than pre-scare (or post-scare) Tylenol (hey, Mo) for the Holiday Blues (and, gosh, I hate that James Brown Xmas song) is olde b&w movies, or really, any, apparently, sort of movie that I like.

************

A week ago the Wife had fallen asleep on my lap.  It happens all the time.  I rub her head.  I rub her feet.  I rub my Wife all the time.  She falls asleep! So, I was left with the television, a glass of sterling red wine (prob Grgich Hills Merlot) and my whim at the controls of fifty-seven channels and nothing on.
The King relaxes with a fine cigar.

Let us be honest, this was last Wednesday, and we had been set to watch Top Chef.  (Although it is most brill that it is set in Texas, this season has been a huge disappointment, the chefs are so awful this season.)

But before Top Chef would appear I noticed Lubitsch's, The Shop Around the Corner on TCM. I thought I would kill time until Top Chef prevailed.  Besides, I had caught Shop in the middle.

The Wife was willing at that point.


But, naturally, by the time I was stroking Peanut's boo-tiful blonde corkscrew hair (h/t T Rex), Peanut was asleep and I was thinking less about a mediocre Top Chef episode, and more about finishing watching one of Lubitsch's Masterpieces.

************

I am at the point now, that when Margaret Sullavan reached in the empty post office box and Jimmy Stewart shows his leg braces, I was near tears.

Film over!

Daddy can watch whatever he wants to watch.  The Wife is completely asleep, at my mercy for (prob b&w movie) television art.

I notice, without having to leave my spot, or pay a dollar later, that A Mighty Wind is available.  It is half way through (or more) and I do not care.

(I think of Marcus McClung, the Littles, etc, ... -- totally inside baseball here, it is okay -- )

Yet, when Mitch & Mickey sing their part on the final song (I love you, Catherine O'Hara!) I am totally balling.  In Walnut Creek, CA.  Alone (sort of, my Wife asleep on my lap.)

************

And last night, The Wife falls asleep on my lap, and I am watching Ninotchka,  ...

You get the idea.

I mentioned this to the Wife, she said, "You are on your Christmas Period."

************

And so I am,

Merry Xmas, everyone,
I love you all!



Ardent








The Wife & I

Received a lovely Xmas present the other day, a bottle of Cafaro 2006 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon.  I did not feel like waiting, or throwing it in the keller, so I popped it open, tenderly decanted it, and we had it with pasta and some fab Della Fattoria bread

The wine is amazing, so elegant, with elements of lighter red-colored fruits, like berries, say, and even notes of Bordeaux-style pencil-lead in there.

I know I am really enjoying a wine when my pours for it are getting smaller and smaller as I go through the bottle.  The Wife & I like small glass pours, anyway (unlike most of our friends), so these pours were getting near microscopic

Here is a picture of the bottle:


Martin Luther, I have gained a whole new respect for you.

(But one of the neatest things about the whole splendid experience is the quote on the back of the bottle:  It is a quote from Martin Luther, of all people, and goes thusly, "Beer is made by Men, Wine is made by God."  Now, is that one of the Ninety-Five Theses I completely missed?)

All my love, kids, and if you are in retail or a vendor I am passing on an extra super-duper helping of adoration to you.  Channel your inner-Poppy and smile.  KEEP CALM AND CARRY ON.

Mwah, ...

Dec 18, 2011

In terms of my personal relationships:

You kind of have to love me.  I demand unconditional devotional attention.

My friend, Stephanie Swenson, back in college, once said to me, "I think of you religiously."  Now, she did not mean in terms of how often she thought of me, but in terms of purely how she thought of me.

Stephanie Swenson's quote was the arrow through the brain, if you will.  I finally reached a certain level of self-realization that could be considered crucial to leading a successful adult life.  Even if I did not exemplify the life of an adult at that time.

To be a friend, lover of mine you must be "all in."  


You must be willing to put up with all my irresponsibility and insensitivity.

There are many who have ultimately stumbled at that last hurdle, who have rode so long, but eventually, could not ride with me any more.  And that is alright.

Yet, there are numerous others, in fact, prob, all those of you who are reading this right now, that have signed on until the end of the course.

I would have been a most fab Cult Leader, but, alas, I am so lazy.



mds




Dec 15, 2011

No. 9, The Lady Eve (Sturges)

Remember that this is my personal ballot and is not the final poll that will be released on February 29, 2012, which will comprise all the ballots sent in.  


Now, I promise that my ballot contains the Ten Greatest Films of All-Time, not the Ten Greatest Films starring Barbara "Missy" Stanwyck! (I'll save that poll for some other time.)

David Mamet has discussed in his excellent book on film, Bambi vs. Godzilla, how perfect Sturges' script is for this film.  And I can not say that I would disagree with Mr Mamet, at all.  It is a perfect movie script, in three acts, with no exposition or characterization, complete with very simple objectives for our hero, "Missy", in each act, that she is either thwarted or successful in each endeavor.  There is not a single wasted scene or shot.  Everything propels the action forward and makes the popcorn munching audience ask, "Gosh, what happens next, you think?"

Plus, it was directed by Sturges, as well, the absolute master of the urbane custard pie script and film.  There has never been anyone quite like Preston Sturges in Hollywood.  Sure, there are tons of writer/directors these days.  But no one ever really could write and direct a script that so magically blended the upper class and the street so well in comedy, since, dare I say it, Shakespeare.  (Yeah, I know Shakespeare did not direct movies, but he would have been great at it, and made a fortune, to boot!)

Sturges wrote and directed perfect old-time classical comedies, full of double marriages (i.e. The Palm Beach Story) and changeable identities.  Even the film I am discussing uses the old Shakespeare trope of Missy assuming a completely different identity (the Lady Eve) without any disguise, at all.  The whole frickin' film is hung on this Classical gambit and it works a treat.


(Off topic, but, gosh, I pine for the old classic plays.  Shakespeare did not bother showing examples of ingenues in love, through silly character developing actions, he simply had a character, let's call her, Viola confess to someone that she is love with Orsino, whilst Orsino confides to Viola -- who he thinks is a man -- that he is in love with Olivia.  It is that easy.  And carrying on with the Twelfth Night Preston Sturges connections, The Palm Beach Story is his version of the Shakespeare classic, complete with twins and a double wedding.)

Anyhoo, here are the Top Nine moments/things I love about The Lady Eve:

1.  (Sorry,) but Missy's beautiful pegs again in the early cabin scene.
2.  The marvelous, hilarious, brilliant Eugene Pallette banging those chafing dishes together, demanding his breakfast.  (Renee loooooves Eugene Pallette, in anything he is in.)
3.  The amazing William Demerest, who, according to the aforementioned Mr Mamet, taught Henry Fonda how to do all those fantastic slapstick stunts.
4.  The card scene when Missy outwits her Da (the superb, stately, yet shopworn Charles Coburn.)
5.  The totally brill and appropriate (and actually about twenty years ahead of its time) animated snake titles sequence.
6.  The look on Missy's face when Fonda lies to her about, "How he knew it all the time, and was stringing her along."  (Paraphrasing there.)
7.  The fact that Snowflake is not in this picture, at all.
8.  Sturges' brilliant "acting company", if you will; Eugene Pallette, William Demarest, Eric Blore, Robert Greig, etc, ...
9.  (And finally, and most crucially these days for me, personally:) The Beer/Ale monologue delivered by Henry Fonda -- cockeyed on her gams and perfume  -- in Missy's cabin.    For me, Michael here, this monologue about a distaste for beer is not only funny in context of the film but has become a rallying cry against Craft Brewers across this great nation of ours.  (Yet, Daddy does admit that Pike's Pale, the Ale that won for Yale, is pretty fucking clever, and hilarious --though, perhaps Sturges was joking, too --.)


And here is that famous monologue I spoke of,


Michael Spitler's personal Honorable Mention, Barbara Stanwyck Division:  Ball of Fire, Night Nurse, Baby Face, The Furies, Meet John Doe, Sorry Wrong Number, Lady of Burlesque, The Bitter Tea of General Yen, Stella Dallas, Clash By Night,  and of course, the delicious -- nowadays -- camp treats:  The Big Valley (TV) and The Thorn Birds (TV).


Michael Spitler's personal Honorable Mention, Preston Sturges Division:  his work on the Shanghai Express script -- and you can tell what it is -- , Christmas in July, Sullivan's Travels, The Palm Beach Story, The Miracle of Morgan's Creek, Hail the Conquering Hero, and Unfaithfully Yours.




I love you all!








mds

Dec 13, 2011

ALWAYS SING (Fiction by Michael D. Spitler)

ALWAYS SING



This box of memories.  Spilling, spitting, Gawd, at least it is in my face -- when else would I recognize that beautiful missive.  

But what happened? Where was she when I really needed her? Dark and damp in some silence of the lambs thingy, begging a dog, c'mon, sweetie ... Huddy, let us ... da ... da ... dance --

And at the dance, Lester and Spooner danced as slowly and as afraid of each other as they possibly could.  

Lester said, "My goodness, it is enough they want us to dress like them."

Lester was interrupted by a minor seismic event (I cannot even begin to describe.  I just ain't that ... ); a hallucination, lucky enough Spooner was there.

The customers, mainly kids, but one man, who always asked about money clips; but kids, kids who pandered to sarongs and visors.  There is no accounting for, still.

Lester said, "My apologies.  I really thought it was locked."

Slippery she was, they call her Debut (she was the first born of identical twins) -- still he falls overs (is not it amazing, how no one has figured out this tired metaphor?)

"Gawd," said Lester.

The room changed, her face different.  He reached for the alarm.  It had been going off for at least a quarter of an hour.

"Can you lean closer," Lester said, "I cannot hear you."

Hear you! The Charles de Fucking Gaulle! Did not you see my boobs in the window? Not really.  Was not I there to look down and be shy? Or the long long stare o'er a mile, or five? (Boy, is that corny.)  I am bad.  Can not you hear me? I will be better.  Do you hear? I love you.  (hug.)

Spooner remembered the old days, whisky and extra syllables on all the important words.  Lester thought this world would bring him the the riches of the sexual/spiritual -- I mean, spiritual world.  

"Gosh," Debut said, "Right!"

Suddenly, Debut's normally placid voice turned in to a bark.  Quite close a light turned on in a house.  But it was a mistake.  Lester and Spooner and Debut understood, ultimately, that this light made no fire, did not disturb the peace of Lolita-surbubia -- and, hell, no one noticed except for our heroes.  It is alright.  It is deep and mysterious, you can not touch it or describe it, but it is real.  And it is quiet and calm and relaxing, a peace of mind worth respecting.

Lester closes his eyes.  Debut kisses them.

"Don't you ever shut up," Lester asks.

It is true.  They looked at each other as Spooner went to the loo.  

Lester smiled, "I hate it when they get the words wrong."

Wait! Is this a love story, Spooner thought to himself? 

Debut did her toenails, whistled the Monty Python Theme Song, ... It was over.

"Did our [insert team name here] win?" asked Spooner.

Debut leaned over one more, two time more, damn, it is not just Seinfeld, or cable, or woman, really do these sort of, ... 

Damn! It is the King, all bow down, damnitt, you have got to -- blinded, blitzed  -- it is a crystalline hurricane of lame love, obliterating the atmosphere:  That is when Lester spit on the floor in someone else's house.  He never, never, ne'er does that, even in his own Carmel house.

New Orleans called.  "Hey," NOLA said, "Listen to the kitchen table.  Those 'just kid' bathroom conversations, those late night bunk bed confessions.  You were never there, Mom, Dad.  Where were you? You missed the entire -- "

That great city was interrupted by a train of thought, of huge cars, miles long, of second line parades, playing their hearts oot until they spill.  It looked like a funeral procession to Lester. Debut did not argue, kissed Spooner -- changed his life -- and took a breath.

Debut spoke, "It took me forty-three years to learn there will never be any good criticism now that Sontag is dead."

Well, I mean, what can you say to that? 

The procession poured by.  A not so sad song, a memory, or real, passed by the window.  Then voices like a fucked up radio:

"You're right as always," Lester said, "There is nothing I can say here.  It is all too real."  

Lester bent over and kissed her, 

"Don't you," Lester asked, "Ever shut up?"

Let us whip away the the curtains, the crummy walls, the make-up, even the 'they are asleep attitude'.

"That word," Lester said, "Has become very important and I do not want to think of it in such a cheap way."

Spooner rolled his eyes and said, "Such a speech."

The walls bulged and moved.  And smiled.  

The massive hallways, echoes, never knowing the outside life, head in a book.  Eyes glistening, catching the tube, Debut, a vision of innocence, and e'en more, beautiful in experience.

Well, it is true.

Swish swish swish, quietly laughing.  Shhh, the dog, it is an overture for a biography, no name, in lights, just repeated over and over again at a giant Rebecca hoose.  

"Can't," Spooner said, "Make jokes about the races."

Just then Lester's escort called.






Dec 12, 2011

We Were Here

Is a simple, yet deeply moving documentary about the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco.  There is no voiceover throughout and there are only around ten or so witnesses that speak to what it was like living through the 80s as panic took hold in the City.

What is remarkable is the strength these folks had to keep on going, watching their friends and lovers die day by day.  One of the witnesses saw his partner die first, his best friend die two days later, and then another friend pass away the next day.

The most affecting moment for me was the part when they show the Bay Area Reporter's obituary section for one year in the 80s.  Instead of reprinting the text from each person who died from AIDS that year for their year-end issue they simply reprinted every photograph of those who had passed.  It goes on for pages and pages.

The miraculous way this community responded and came back to life and to help all those in the City and around the world is a true marvel.  I would like to think if something that tragic happened in my community that I would have the guts and fortitude to act the way those folks did (and still do.)

An absolute must-see, but it is a toughy.  Be prepared to shed tears.

All my love,
Ardent

Dec 9, 2011

Scream, Dracula, Scream

By Rocket From the Crypt (1995 -- I bought my vinyl copy in a London record shop) is one of the greatest, flat-out rock records ever.

I especially love the cheap, awful album artwork, which consists of a bad-ass cover photograph of a scorpion and a track listing on the back (in a gawdawful typeface.)  And that is it.  Reis decided, obv, to just let this startling, powerful, monster record speak for itself, practically dumped on the market without any fanfare whatsoever.

I know true Rocket fans will think I am nuts but my fave track is the goofy Misbeaten.  But, it does not matter anyway, cause this is truly all killer no filler this one.

(The morse code solo on Fat Lip is crunching good, too!)





-AH

Let's not kid ourselves,

What the Angels did yesterday should scare the hell out of the Rangers, (the A's, still shopping Gio), and the rest of the American League.

But remember, last year before the season started everyone thought the Red Sox and Phillies were locks to appear in the 2011 World Serious.

Well, neither club won the pennant, the Cardinals won it all, and the Red Sox did not even make the playoffs.  


That is why you play the games, as they say.


Dec 8, 2011

Thirty-one years ago

Today, John Lennon was shot down and murdered in New York City.

Sad sad day.  Carla Thomas said when she heard the news she just put her fingers in her ears.
Two days from now will be the forty-fourth (v sad) anniversary of Otis Redding's plane going down in a lake in Wisconsin.

(Note to rock stars:  Never, never, never fly in Midwest air space when on tour.  It has claimed Buddy Holly, the Bar-Kays, the Big Bopper, Otis Redding, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Richie Valens.)

Thank goodness we have all their wonderful music to keep us warm through our cold North American Decembers.





These two gentlemen are the reason folks like me love life so much, so preciously.  You never want to miss a minute of what they do.

RIP, gentlemens.  We love you down here, so much.




-AH

h/t to Amy A for the correction.  I might still be wrong on SRV, too.  Will update tomorrow.

basel duetsch. basel dütsch... the dialect of basel

FC Basel 1893 are going to the knockout round!

I wonder if they are speaking Basel Duetsch?
They are the first Swiss team to ever make it this far in Champions League.

Yesterday's match was not full of scintillating play, Shaqiri for Basel, and Nani for Man U were the best players on the pitch.  But Basel took advantage of a seriously struggling Man U back four and played extremely well up front (Streller/Frei/Shaqiri).  Also, Basel's not particularly overwhelmingly talented back four played well, and composed, on their own.

(The video above is from when FC Basel won their league last May, not last night!)

Obv, Man U supporters will bemoan their injury problems, but that is sour grapes.  The Red Devils still had superior talent on the pitch yesterday and yet were outclassed, out coached, and plain beaten.

Both FC Basel and Man U will have draws next Friday to determine their next European opponents.  But Basel's will be for the Champions League and Man U's for Europa.

What a joy it is for Basel, to have its finest European moment ever to come at St Jakob Park at the expense of Man U! I imagine Roger Federer is beside himself with pride today, too.  He is from Basel and one of RotBlau's biggest supporters.

(Plus, I do not how they did it, but little Viktoria Plzen finished third in their group and will go to Europa themselves, which is a major accomplishment, as well!)

Dec 7, 2011

Otis Redding-Live at Monterey '67(Part 2).MPG

Seriously?

Is there anyone alive that actually gives two poops what this guy thinks about anything?

I'm sure she is wearing her Scoop Me boots today.
And, apparently, Fox News feels bad about its "hatchet job" interview of Mittens a couple of weeks ago because they are now dedicating the whole hour of its solidly last place Sunday news program to Mittens alone.

(By the way, Ms Banderas, all you have to do to get a better job at Fox News is dye your hair blonde -- and changing your last name would not hurt, either.)

Four years old but still totally brill.





Dec 6, 2011

No. 10, Double Indemnity (Wilder)

Remember that this is my own personal ballot - it is my blog, after all- and not the ultimate, official ballot that will be released on Feb 29, 2012.


I was tempted by my Da's ballot, which simply included eighteen unranked greatest films, to do something of the same sort.  But that is insane.  I set the rules, dang it, and I must abide by them, regardless.  


(Hey, Andy, I just gave three points each to every film you provided, and an extra point to the one on top, making the fifty-five points available to every ballot.  And what a great ballot! I did not know you liked Matewan so much, and my love for Salesman is prob v different from your love for it.  Plus, it is always great to see votes for Bye Bye Brazil and Brazil.)


The top five of my personal ballot have been set in stone for the past few years.  The toughest part for me were the last five.  


Over the dozen or so months that I have been considering doing this poll, those last five have been changing constantly, at times, daily.  


The most heart-breaking decision I had to make, in the end, was to leave Kind Hearts and Coronets out of my Top Ten.  


I really should not get too in depth to it, but Kind Hearts is not just a cute, Sir Alec Guinness, Ealing comedy.  It is a serious, erotic British Masterpiece disguised as the type of entertainment that dozens of writers and studio heads would drool o'er.  The type that they eventually did drool over, and the type that won them box office rentals and, finally, cult success.  Yet, the film is much better than that, deeper, more rewarding.  Folks have tried, I tells ya, but they have still nowt made a better black comedy, period.   


Kind Hearts and Coronets is a v solid No.  11.


Finally, 


No. 10, Double Indemnity (Wilder)


Top Ten moments/things/feelings re Double Indemnity



1.  Stanwyck's (Missy's) performance in the driver's seat as her husband is being murdered.
2.  Missy's performance when the car just will not start.
3.  Missy's gorgeous legs, showing off that anklet, as they come down the stairs.
4.  The brill casting of Fred MacMurray as Walter Neff.  (It was eventually my Mum, Donna who made me see the light here.  Mom was right -- what else is new?)
5.  The sublime yet seedy dark photography, including metal shavings playing dust in the first Neff/Dietrichson scene
6.  The fact that, ultimately, Double Indemnity is not a love story between Neff and Dietrichson but one between Neff and Barton Keyes!
7.  The spot-on, low rent, filthy production design by Hans Drier, espec the supermarket sets.  Drier came over from Germany w/ Lubitsch and did all his films, incl Trouble in Paradise.
8.  Everyone is terrible.  Everyone is awful in this film.  Even Lola is a liar.  And the most likeable guy in the film is someone who hires a P.I. to check up on his prospective fiancee at the very last minute.
9.  The sublime speeding ticket dialogue.
10.  That a Jerry Springer episode could be brought to life so artfully and entertainingly.  And yet predict fifty years later the type of television entertainment that some would foolishly call art, or a pastime of ours.

But that was Billy Wilder.  No one at that time was more clued in to the trashy, cynical ugly art that we call Reality Television today.

Wilder was a protege of the master stylist Lubitsch.  Where Lubitsch saw glitter, Wilder saw grime and dirt.

Wilder had many great films after Double Indemnity.  But this was his best, and I suspect he knew it.  He had to, it was the most "out on the limb" thing he did.  Though he always tried to top it, he never did.







-AH










Dec 4, 2011

All over the map

Am I today, here with you, from Walnut Creek, this sunny chilly early December Sunday:

The RedZone is absolutely perfect for me these days, considering that I do not really support a team anymore.  It is best, of course, at around one p.m. Pacific and four thirty p.m. Pacific.  That is when all the games from both rounds of play are wrapping up.  With no team allegiances, I can "root" for good play, simply.  I also "root" for glorious unbelievable come backs and close shaves.  I also like long running plays and blatant examples of the TriLateral Commission.  (The TriLateral Commission are the refereeing Overlords who always make sure that teams like the Packers or Steelers always get the calls -- the Steelers just got all the calls and breaks at home against the Bengals.  The Bengals had a TD overturned and a FG wiped out all on the same drive.  They are trailing now.)  And there are no commercials, ever.

************

The Wife and I are the Kiss of Death for our condo building.  The folks next door were foreclosed.  Empty now.  And the sweet Limeys above us bought a new house and have just moved out, taking their newborn little King Henry with them.  Empty now.  There is just a bachelor dude left in number three.  He will be gone soon, I am sure.

Next door some appliance has been left on or clock or something but it keeps beeping constantly! It is driving all of us (who are still here) absolutely crazy.  It will not stop.  The wife and I, like the Undead, mutter along with the three beep pattern, "I'm/Going/Insane.  I'm/Going/Insane."

************

So, Ron Paul will not attend the Trump moderated debate.  Paul is above such things, apparently.  What a joke.  Paul has been the Dagney Taggart star of the longest running Randite Reality Show for years now.  Paul insists he will not run for his Congressional Seat this November.  I do not believe that for a second.  As soon as he is bounced again a few months from now from the Clown Car GOP Presidential race Paul will announce with high dudgeon how he simply must stay in the House, in order to do everything in his power to eliminate every single New Deal program he can and take this great nation of ours back to the Gilded Age.

Paul is a coward and a choker.  If he had any real guts he would run as a Libertarian or an Independent.  But he refuses to because he would rather shout his wacky ideas at the masses, as opposed to actually really doing something about change in this country.  Paul is all about the Air Time.  He would be perfect hanging out with Trump on December 27.  Loser.

************

Any of you folks like the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band? I was listening to their (first) last album, Let's Make Up and Be Friendly, yesterday on the walk home.  It is such a strange, dark record.

The Wife loves the Bonzos but Let's Make Up is the dark place Honey refuses to go to.  Any time she even hears one of the tracks, Rawlinson's End, she insists I turn it off.

Rawlinson's End is a soap set to music, about eleven minutes long, full of sound effects and v unusual music.  The closest thing I can compare it to, in terms of tone or mood, would be Revolution #9 by The Beatles, even the two tracks sound nothing like each other.

These guys are genius legends.  Miss ya, Viv.  (sniff)
What on earth must folks of thought when they first listened to that record back in the Seventies?

The first track, The Strain, concerns going to the bathroom with Hot Butt, after some spicy vindaloo.

The second is a v strange, gloomy instrumental, and the third is about dandruff.  I am not making this up.

Then comes a bizarre novelette by "Legs" Larry Smith about a gay man's pleading for his lover, Rusty, to return to him.

Then comes Rawlinson's End, which is followed by two Neil Innes' Beatles parodies -- the best things on the record -- and it all ends with a v warped instrumental entitled, Slushy.

I love the whole mad parade.  But I am prob just weird.

By the way, the Bonzos play shows now, and have even released another record, all of this despite Vivian Stanshall's death years ago.  Viv was so important to the group, though, that it takes like five or six different guys to do all his "parts" for a live show, including Stephen Fry, who does Sport (The Odd Boy).

************

Back to the RedZone, it is nearly one p.m.

Kisses,
xxxoooxxx






Thank you so much, everyone

Who has already submitted a ballot for the 2012 Spitler/Diskowski Greatest Films Poll.

I have received about 25 ballots so far.  And the lists have been great.

My most sincere apologies if I double messaged you on facebook.  Remember, you still have plenty of time, those that have not voted yet.  The deadline is January 31, 2012.

I will be unveiling my personal list with brief comments about each selection on this blog, one by one, ten through one, over the coming weeks.

You should see my first posting of this sort in a few days.

Here is a clue, however.  My number ten selection takes place in Los Angeles.  There is a lot of talk about trolley cars and speeding tickets.  There is a blonde wig involved and metal shavings in the air, ...

Love you all,



AH

Dec 3, 2011

A junkie speaks, volume 2 (UPDATE!)

First of all, I cannot tell you how happy I am to see -- for the second year in a row -- the two Oklahoma schools battle for the Big 12 Title.

It does not look good for the Sooners, to be sure (they are trailing 24-3 at the half) but the thing you have to know about Bedlam (as this series is called) is that the Sooners always get the calls in this series, and that the Sooners own the Cowboys.

I really want the Sooners to win but I am not going to be heartbroken if that does not happen.

Good for the Cowboys, for once, right?

(But, I bet if you talk to any serious OSU fan right now, up 24-3, they are still freaking out.  It is like the Red Sox v Yankees before the down three love miracle.)

I still wear my #22 jersey with pride.  Tonight.  Even if the Sooners go to the crummy Holiday Bowl, I am still proud.

It is not over yet.  Yeah, it pretty much is.
And kudos to the frickin Cowboys if they win.  

They deserve it.  What have they won in football? Pretty much nothing.  Oklahoma State is a basketball/wrestling school.


Pistol Pete or Boomer Sooner, the world will be alright tomorrow.

(Plus, Baylor beat the 'Horns.  Ha ha ha.)

I will give you an update later.

Kisses,
Ardent

Boomer!

Sooner!

UPDATE! It is over, folks.  All congrats to the Cowboys who frickin whooped the Sooners tonight.

Their first (Cowboys) Big 12 Title.  Have fun in the Fiesta Bowl.

The Sooners are headed to some bowl like the Holiday.

It is all okay in the universe.

Kisses,
xxxoooxxx

Dec 2, 2011

Finally saw One Day

Last night.

Lone Scherfig is such an old softie, hunh?

It is amazing to think she was part of the Danish Dogme movement.

Her first feature, and one of the Dogme films, Italian for Beginners, though showing a certain type of odd bleak Scandinavian humor, still had a very tidy, romantic double "wedding" ending that you see in comedies all the time.

Rafe Spall, son of actor, Timothy Spall.
I can understand why some folks might not like One Day.  (The original score is pretty sappy, for one thing and Ms Hathaway and Ms Clarkson's accents are a little patchy.)  But One Day hits me in all the right spots and I loved it.  

I almost think Rafe Spall would have been better in the lead and it is Spall's performance, to me, that was the real breakthrough.  I love Rafe Spall.  I have not seen Anonymous, yet.  He is in that, too.

One Day is a lovely little comedy, definitely a "chick movie", and makes a great double feature with An Education.  (Or a triple feature with Italian for Beginners, as well!)

Mwah, ... 

Nov 30, 2011

I am not even interested (UGH! Update!)

In seeing the film, Young Adult.

There are many many reasons for this.

Let us spell them out, shall we:

I do not particularly like Charlize Theron.  I do not like Diablo Cody.  I did not like Juno -- it was facile and crass.  I did not like Up in the Air -- it was facile and sentimental.  I still have not seen Thank You for Smoking, and that is alright by me.

I remember the ads for Juno upon its release.  They made a big deal about how similar it was to Little Miss Sunshine, probably some of the same producers were involved.

Little Miss Sunshine was a true black comedy.  Black as tar, as my friend Nick C says.  They stole a corpse and stuffed it in the back of a VW van!

Young Adult will not end, or even contain, anything that twisted, or profane, or mean as that.

(And, note to Hollywood:  Please fucking stop using Bowie's brill Queen Bitch for your trailers.  Wes Anderson kicked your ass on this one.  Give him his due and move on.)

I am saying it here now, and loudly:  Jason Reitman is a safe, sentimental, backlash film maker, who should be saving his breath for working in a time like ours.

Hell, even the goody-goody, dopey reactionary Capra at least made you feel something, watching his corny films.

You want comedy, with great performers, go see Polanski's Carnage, instead.

As for Reitman's slice of burnt apple pie, this reviewer will pass.



AH




UPDATE, 12/9/11:  
Ugh, apparently the "theme" song for Young Adult is Teenage Fanclub's The Concept, one of my all-time fave tracks.  It is similar to how I felt when I heard all of my favorite Supertramp songs in Magnolia.

A.O. Scott and Mick LaSalle leeerved Young Adult, by the way.

In other movie news, Manohla Dargis has a splendidly written review of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy today on the NYT Arts & Leisure cover page.  Now, there's another movie I would rather see than Young Adult.  Benedict Cumberbatch gets second billing! What a coup!




Nov 29, 2011

You do not truly love

Someone, or something, of which, you cannot satirise their faults.

I am trying to imagine

What it would have been like to go to a pub with Ken Russell, Oliver Reed, Alan Bates, and Glenda Jackson.  Say, back in 1970.  Perhaps they were all celebrating Women in Love and Jackson's Oscar? Or, maybe, it was someone's birthday?

Ms Jackson is an MP now.  Did you know that? I did not.
I imagine much drink would be involved:  first growths, ales, Scotch, etc, ... And I imagine the conversation would be fantastic:  The Old Vic; Sir Larry; Pinter; Finney; The "New" National Theatre; those old "pooftas" Gielgud, Orton, and Lindsay Anderson (and maybe Bates might have bristled here, or, perhaps, his friends all knew and did not care); Shakespeare; Lear; Othello; Richard III; D.H. Lawrence; Keats; Shelley; Byron; John Dunne; Blake; The Who; Swinging London; Beatle Wigs ("They're buying Beatle Wigs in Woolworth's, man.  The greatest decade in the history of mankind [the 60s] is over, man."  h/t Withnail and I); The Profumo Affair; The Suez Crisis; Vietnam; Tom Courtenay; Julie Christie (they probably hated her); Schlesinger; Midnight Cowboy; Kubrick; Sellers; Oliver's Uncle, Sir Carol Reed; and on and on in to the night.

Of course, Reed would probably have left the group two or three times to fuck a pretty lady in the loo.

It would all end up in a fistfight, arguing over who was the best Lear ever, or, some silly quotidian detail of D.H. Lawrence's novels (or criticism.)

Eventually, Tom Courtenay -- who arrived late -- and I would trundle "the lads" -- Ms Jackson browned off hours ago -- in to a London taxi, as they sang "Jerusalem" or "Sing As You Go" at the top of their lungs.

"You see, dear boy," Courtenay would say to me, "They simply cannot help themselves.  They're artistes, you know? Let's see if we can grab a pint before they call, 'Time'."

************

There is something to be said for the passionate, yet, uneven, artist.  I know that, personally, I like a fair amount of them.  Kubrick comes to mind, Nic Roeg, Thomas Pynchon, ...

In fact, Pynchon can go two hundred mind numbing pages before changing your life in an episode, or a paragraph.

Russell was certainly passionate, and he was horribly uneven, sometimes in a single film.  Yet, no one, no one, translated Lawrence to film better than him.  Sadly, no one really even tries nowadays.  Of course, this is currently not an era where folks are reaching for Lawrence novels, or Keats, or Shelley.  (If we are looking for Classic Novels, it is the gentle comic novels of Jane Austen or gloomy "bodice-ripping" Bronte sisters we seem to covet in film.)

Russell was born Out of Time.  He was a hopeless Romantic during an age of Vietnam, Watergate, Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, Disco, the money-mad 80s, and, eventually Reality Television.  Plus, he had a temper, and was ever so passionate about his art, which does not play well with movie studio types, at all.

Look at his career! He was constantly feuding with the movie brass over sexual content, movie titles, publicity campaigns, running lengths, what have you.  In fact, I am amazed he made as many films as he did.

In what many consider Russell's best film, Altered States, he feuded with Hollywood legend, screenwriter, Paddy Chayefski.  Well, for Hollywood, that truly was the last straw.

I am v glad that he returned to England and made films like Gothic and Lair of the White Worm, two of my personal faves, uneven and/or messy as they are.  And even in the Gordon Gekko go-go Wall Street America of that time, those films resonated with American audiences, and were art-house hits.

I saw Gothic with friends at the University of Texas Union Theater in its' first release.  We talked about it for hours afterward.  Even then, at that young age, I could recognize the films' faults, but there are to this day, still, moments that stay with me.  But, more importantly, Gothic clued me in to an amazing, different world, where poetry could unseat Kings; where art was the true path to Spirituality (or Damnation); and where intelligence and imagination are not things to be cursed.

Still, to me, Women in Love, is his finest film.  And that is what, hopefully, I will be curling up with tonight.

Passion is a virtue, not a curse.
There is truly something to be said for the difficult, brilliant artist.  Sometimes it is those who flail, fight, and fail the loudest that ultimately, we think of the longest, even if their failures might outweigh their successes.

One paragraph might change the world.  Or one moment in a darkened cinema.

RIP, Ken Russell.  We are desperate for more passionate film makers today.



Nov 28, 2011

Scenes a Celebrity Dad Shouldn't Watch - The Graham Norton Show - Series...

Shame Writer Abi Morgan interview - London Film festival 2011

I was reluctant and loathe

To start watching The Hour on BBC America.  First, because, after reading a review in the SF Chron, it seemed The Hour was another Mad Men rip-off like Pan-Am and however many others there are.  And, second, because I would have to watch the program with commercials, which I simply cannot abide these days.  We tend to dvr everything in this house, just so we can skip the ads.  (Love you RedZone! No commercials ever!)

Abi Morgan.  Yeah, how about a photograph of the writer once in a while?
But David Thomson wrote some nice things about it in his blog for The New Republic and mentioned how you can see it commercial-free onDemand with Xfinity (Comcast.)  (Thomson spelled Xfinity wrong, by the way.  He spelled it Exfinity.  But, is not that cute? Thomson lives in the City and we have the same cable provider.)  So, I watched the first three episodes of Season One last night.

(Sigh, and audible grin.)  It is great, of course.  Here is the amazing British cast, many of them big favorites of mine:  Dominic West (McNutty in The Wire, barely in Chicago); Ben Whishaw (I'm Not There); Romola Garai; Juliet Stevenson (so many things: Drowning by Numbers, Truly Madly Deeply, Inspector Lewis, A Place of Execution, Miss Marple, Bend It Like Beckham, When Did You Last See Your Father, etc, ... ); Burn Gorman (fantastic in Bleak House); Anna Chancellor (Miss Marple, Inspector Morse and Inspector Lewis!); Oona Chaplin (Game of Thrones and The Devil's Double); and Julian Rhind-Tutt (Poirot, Miss Marple, and AbFab).  Plus, The Hour is part of the BBC America Dramaville Series, so each episode is hosted and introduced by Idris Elba ("Stringer" Bell in The Wire, The Office, 28 Weeks Later, Law and Order, and AbFab.)

It is similar to Mad Men in style, with plenty of red lipstick and nylons for everyone! There is not as much sex as in Mad Men, though, and The Hour is told in a much more traditional, theatrical storytelling type of way.  The show is about a newsmagazine program, complete with a love triangle that features a woman producer, a privileged dense anchor, and a slightly unhinged journalist.  So, there is the Broadcast News similarity, as well.

The performances are great.  Ben Whishaw and Romola Garai are the real stand outs here. And it looks great, shot in a louche candlelit sort of a way, plus the script is chock full of fabulous dialogue, written by Abi Morgan (Ms Morgan is also a playwright, but she has two movie scripts coming out next month, Shame -- cowritten with the director, Steve McQueen -- and The Iron Lady.  So we'll be hearing a lot more about Ms Morgan very soon.)  The whole thing is a fabulous fun entertainment and much more my cup of tea than Mad Men.  But that is probably just me.

You should definitely check it out.  The Wife and I will finish Season One tonight with a big bowl of popcorn.

Kisses,
xxxoooxxx


Ardent

Before I start speaking

About what is now one of my all-time fave films, a film I saw for the first time ever, just a few days ago, A propos de Nice, I would like to give you a few quotes from the filmmaker, Jean Vigo, to wit:

Shame on those who, during their puberty, murdered the person they might have become.

Or, re his film, A propos de Nice:

[The film presents] the last gasp of a society so lost in its escapism that it sickens you and makes you sympathetic to a revolutionary solution.  

And on the true aim of the Social Documentary:

The aim of the social documentary is achieved when it suceeds in revealing the hidden meaning of a gesture, when it shows up the hidden beauty or the grotesqueness of an ordinary-looking individual.  The social documentary must lay bare the mechanism of society by showing it to us in its purely physical manifestations.
And it must do this so forcefully that the world we once looked at with such indifference now appears to us in its essence, stripped of its falsehoods.  The social documentary must rip the blinkers from our eyes.  

 And finally:

The fellow who makes a social documentary clearly states his personal point of view and commits himself one way or another.

At least one of the quotes is from an address Vigo gave upon the second screening of A propos de Nice, in Paris, June 1930.  But according to his collaborator and photographer, Boris Kaufman, they had seen Un chien andalou for the first time just the night before.  Apparently, Vigo was so enthralled with Bunuel and Dali's masterpiece so much, that he barely spoke about his own masterpiece that day.

(By the way, after Vigo's death, Kaufman eventually went to Hollywood and photographed some of Elia Kazan and Sidney Lumet's films, winning an Oscar for On the Waterfront.  He also shot Baby Doll, 12 Angry Men, The Pawnbroker, Splendor in the Grass, The World of Henry Orient, Long Day's Journey in to Night, and many others.)

A propos de Nice is a gently satirical, slightly surreal documentary of the bourgeoisie in Nice, France.  It is about twenty-five minutes long.  It is bursting with energy, poetic, and breathtaking all in one sweep.

The film is over eighty years old now and if, perhaps, some of the Revolutionary Fervor has been lost in time's translation, none of the magic or lyricism or joy has dimmed, at all.

It is a profound, whirlwind of a debut, and one of only four films Vigo made.  Vigo died of tuberculosis in 1934.  He was twenty-nine years old.
Fantastic hair!

A propos de Nice is absolutely essential viewing, as are his other three films, Taris (a film about a French olympic swimming champion), Zero de Conduite (a subversive, and ultimately banned in France until after WW2, film about a boarding school rebellion), and his "sell-out" feature-length masterpiece, L'Atalante.

Criterion has grouped all these together in a wonderful blu ray package, full of fantastic essays, commentaries, and featurettes, The Complete Jean Vigo.  Crucial for any true cineaste.  






Mwah, ...

AH


Nov 27, 2011

It is a Nation of Hoarders,

In which, we currently live.

Obsessed with Black Fridays, Cyber Mondays, and the elusive Super Deal, including things like Two Dollar Wine.

Those that could do otherwise prefer to stuff their cash 'neath the proverbial mattress.

Whilst many without behave like Dickens' Micawber, foolishly believing our gamed System will reward them their Jackpot any moment now.  This "Inevitability", along with a Cultural Divide on Icky, nearly deceased Social Issues, prevents these many from voting in their best economic interests time and time again.

It is a Vicious Circle.  And it is one that affects not just us as a nation but the whole world.


Nov 23, 2011

The Michael Spitler/Renee Diskowski 2012 Movie Poll!

Other than the fact the whole frickin world is gonna end, there are are a ton of amazing things that are going to happen in 2012.

Like, for instance, Renee and I have been invited to the Frog's Leap Leap Day Party for the first time evah! Woo-hoo! It will be at the winery's Red Barn, w/ bands, and food, and Frog's Leap eau de vie, and the "Rutherford Girls" constantly pouring us Rutherford Cab from Magnums.  Woo-hoo, I sed!

Plus, there is some silly election happening in November, wherein, we need to show up, kick the Teabaggers out of the House, and re-elect that Muslin Kenyan Commie, Barack Obama.

Then, there is the London Summer Olympics.  Hullo, Louisa Necib! 

Do not forget about Euro 2012.  Go Svenske!

And, of course, the Texas Rangers will endeavor to win their third straight American League pennant.

But all of those things pale in comparison to the truly, big, earth-shattering event of 2012, the Sight and Sound Greatest Films poll, which happens once every ten years.

Here are the results from the most recent, 2002 poll.  Vertigo? Really? I guess it is just me.  I can not stand that film, and I love Hitchcock.

Anyhoo, the Sight and Sound poll will probably be released in the Fall of 2012.

But I am enlisting you, all of my dearest friends and family to do a poll of our own! Soon, you will receive a ballot with all the necessary instructions (most of you will receive ballots through a facebook message, the rest through personal ballots, hand delivered.)

Your job is to list, from one through ten, the ten greatest films ever made, in your opinion.

It is that simple.

The ballot must be back to me by January 31, 2012.  So, you have seventy days, or so, to ruminate o'er your list.

I will publish, on this fauxluxe blog, the poll results, along w/ the Wife and I's personal ballots, on February 29, 2012.  I will also publish other ballots that I find interesting or special.  If you do not wish me to publish your ballot, please tell me.

There are a number of other rules I would like to spell out, to wit:

Just like Sight and Sound do, The first two Godfather films are to be treated as ONE FILM.  The third Godfather film is a completely separate entity.

The Star Wars films, all six of them, should be treated as six separate films.  I am going to be very very strict about this, and your ballot could be thrown out if you do not comply.  


Just as David Thomson does, The Lord of the Rings films, all three of them, should be treated as ONE FILM, an eleven and a half hour epic, if you will.

If you send in a ballot that contains an alphabetical list, or an unranked list (which is perfectly acceptable), those films will all receive an EQUAL RATING, e.g. If your ballot contains ten films with no ranking, each film will receive five and a half points.  There are 55 points up for grabs in a ten ballot ranking, which brings me to:

The poll will be just like the Sight and Sound Poll is, or the AP college sports poll, to wit, in this instance, the first place film will receive ten points; the second, nine; the third, eight; the fourth, seven; and so on, etc, ...

If you produce a ballot that has fewer than ten films and is ranked, your number one film will be still worth ten points; the second worth nine; and so on, etc, ... 


If you produce an UNRANKED or ALPHABETICAL ballot with less than ten films (which is perfectly acceptable), the films will all receive equal points, relative to the amount of points available on your ballot.  For instance, Donna Lewis Spitler sends me a ballot of five films in alphabetical, unranked order.  There are forty points available on this ballot, each film will receive eight points, the average of five films and forty points.

Once again, you have until January 31 to send me your ballot, one way or the other.  I will not accept any ballots, period, full stop, after that date, no matter how much I love you.  


If you are reading this blog post and did not receive a ballot through facebook or in person, just make a list for me personally, or send me a message through facebook.

Let's have some fun, right?

And finally, just for giggles, here is David Thomson's ballot in 2002.  Really, Blue Velvet!? Ugh!


And Manohla Dargis 2002 poll.  And, just for fun, Sight and Sound do a directors great films poll, too, and here is Quentin Tarantino's 2002 list, which includes Dazed and Confused at number ten.  Right on!

Have fun.  I love you all.  Look for your ballots v soon.

-- Ardent Henry



The Wife and I just wanted to watch

Poop last night on the teevee, turn off our minds and float downstream.  (Sort of, no drugs were involved other than 2006 Grgich Hills Merlot.  Gosh, it is so good, and Biodynamic!)

And man, did Renee find some good poop!

I am loathe (embarrassed) to tell you the name of the film we watched, but you will prob figure it out, anyway.

It features a brunette, lantern-jawed girlfriend who always wears broad-shouldered button down shirts, jeans and big belts.  The only time we see her in a skirt (and it is an awful green floor length thing, which she pairs with a huge, corduroy sweater on top) is her big intimate night with her co-worker, otherwise known as our

Hero, who wears glasses. So, that we know he is v smart, and a journalist for a big-time, muckraking magazine.  The brunette girlfriend is a photographer for the same magazine.

Our villain is blonde, natch, lives next door to the journalist, and loves to lounge around in a bikini right beneath our hard-working  hero's office window.  The villain loves horses, too, and Wuthering Heights, and is v bright, and knows a lot about insects, espec wasps.

The film references Lolita, Fatal Attraction, and, most bizarrely, Strangers on a Train.

The script is awful, the performances are all awful, the score is awful, the whole movie is a complete train wreck.

Have you figured it out, yet?
But it was good fun.  We watched Woody Allen's Manhattan after that, and fell asleep to Whit Stillman's Barcelona.

************

And speaking of bad films, I finally saw The Devil's Double.  And it is terrible.  And unintentionally campy, to boot.  What is it with films about "twins"? Why do they so often end up so campy? Dead Ringers really comes to mind.  Dead Ringers is a great film, though.  The Devil's Double is not even good.

I love Dominic Cooper.  He is one of my favorite young actors, and I am sure he relished the juicy tour de force part.  And he turns a good, ironic, winking performance out here.  The problem is the subject matter; the script; the insane and silly violence; the ridiculous love story; the crappy, strange sex scene (with a sleepwalking Ludivine Sagnier -- another of my personal faves! Ugh!); and the glamourous, glossy, golden lighting; and, oh, just about a dozen more things.

Oh well.  Maybe the Wife and I will need to watch some poop right before Thanksgiving 2029 and will stumble upon The Devil's Double?! That will be cool.

************

Finally, some random wine notes in movies:

Hey, Nick C! During the Woody Allen documentary they showed the great Mira Sorvino scene, explaining how she became a porn star, "I liked acting.  I wanted to study," she says.  The scene with Woody takes place at a restaurant and they are drinking Chappellet Signature Cab! I could not tell the vintage, though.  Mighty Aphrodite was released in 1995.

Second, I was watching another mid-nineties movie, Naked, which is set in London, and one of the characters strictly drinks Yellow Label throughout the entire film.  I noticed that the label is actually Yellow, not orange, like it is today.

Now, does England or Europe only get Yellow Labels and the US gets orange? Or, did they change the Yellow Label to orange after this film was made? What gives?

Still like the wine, though.  Do not care whether it is orange or yellow or whatevah.

Mwah, ... 


PS  Big, fun movie news coming up on fauxluxe shortly, so, stay tuned.



AH

Nov 22, 2011

I enjoyed the American Masters,

Woody Allen, a Documentary, immensely, even if it is, basically, a film version of Eric Lax's (Lax is also one of the "witnesses") glowing, sanitized authorized biography of Mr Allen.

I did not want a hatchet job, but more objectivity would be appreciated, and, I imagine, will eventually come down the pipeline in the future.

"I need the eggs"

And, I guess, we will never see the "rest" of Annie Hall, particularly, the Allen as a New York Knick fantasy sequence, until after Allen's death.

In fact, it will be interesting to see, if Allen's estate will let commentaries, deleted scenes, and other feature-ettes be part of Allen's blu rays in the future.  I hope so.  He (and his audience) deserve them, even if Allen finds them abominable.  (Though, part of me, likes that Allen lets the films stand on their own in dvd form.  I am v torn.)

I wish they would have told the Marshall McLuhan story; Allen wanted someone else and was furious and pouted for ages, even when McLuhan was on the set.  He need not have worried, obv, because the scene is American film history now, and insanely funny, and perfect.

But I did like that they highlighted Pauline Kael's famous last quote from her review of Stardust Memories (a sadly prophetic film about celebrity -- John Lennon was murdered by an adoring fan just after its' release -- that I rather enjoy, despite its' bleakness):

If Woody Allen finds success very upsetting and wishes the public would go away, this picture should help him stop worrying.
David Thomson does not like Allen's films much, either, (though Thomson seems to have softened his attitude towards Allen in his latest installment of his Biographical Dictionary of Film) and John Simon hated Woody.

As much as I respect Kael and Thomson, (John Simon was a douche and was constantly getting exposed in Review of Reviewers in Spy Magazine) they are both wrong.  Woody Allen is one of the greatest American film makers, period, full stop.





See you Monday nights at Mortons
- Celia Brady