I really am trying to have a positive attitude,

And am desperately trying to channel my inner Poppy from Happy-Go-Lucky, but terrible awful things like this keep on happening.  (I wonder if any of those racist yahoos making comments realize that they are not anonymous because the St Louis Post-Dispatch run their comments through facebook?)

This situation appears to be different from the Michael Brown incident (if you believe what the St Louis cops are going to tell you), but once again Charlie Pierce has got it right.  Greater St Louis just does not get any benefit of the doubt right now.

And, I wonder how Major League Baseball feels about the fact that one of its 2014 World Series cities could possibly be hosting games while their city burns.

Trying to keep it positive.  Take a deep breath.  More Peanuts cartoons with Franklin in them. Sally Hawkins as Poppy.  And here:  Have some Booker T & the MGs live, 1970, at the Oakland Coliseum.

mds

The Academy almost always messes this stuff up.

Note:  Over the coming weeks I will be writing about the Oscars, giving you my personal, sometimes very idiosyncratic, picks on who or what should win (whether they were nominated or not), and then give you my opinion on who is likely to win from the nominees.  Today I am going to talk about Woody Allen, Cate Blanchett, and the Academy Awards, in general.

Take for instance that William Randolph Hearst and his media empire intimidated Hollywood and the Academy enough that Citizen Kane was nearly 'deleted' and/or destroyed before it was released, and that every single time one of the many nominations for Citizen Kane came  up, it was roundly booed at the Academy Awards.  Citizen Kane won only one award, for best screenplay, and that was really for Herman J Mankewicz, a recognition for all his significant contributions to building the Golden Age of Hollywood.

Or, let us talk about the Academy giving Elia Kazan a lifetime achievement award.

I would not be the least surprised to hear boos when Woody Allen's name is called at the Academy Awards next month.  Academy members are allowed to express their opinions, certainly.  Allen, himself, will not be there.  He never attends award ceremonies.  But, I am curious to see if Academy members will  boo Cate Blanchett or Sally Hawkins.  I would hope not, but like I said, the Academy almost always makes the wrong choice, or does the wrong thing when it comes to controversial issues like this.

And, I think we can pretty much forget any chance of Ms Blanchett winning Best Actress this year.  (I really do not believe Ms Hawkins had any shot at winning in her category, Best Supporting Actress.) Which is a real shame.  Ms Blanchett's performance in Blue Jasmine is certainly deserving, and is the type of performance the Academy generally adores.  But her association with Allen will likely prohibit her from taking home the Oscar.

Instead, I think, this year's Best Actress Award will go to Amy Adams.  (Much to my Wife's chagrin, who believes Ms Adams should win the Academy Award for Most Acting While Not Wearing a Bra.  When will that category be created?)

Yet, if I were King Academy Award, I would give the Best Actress Award to Barbara Sukowa for her mesmerizing, slinky, and seductive performance as Hannah Arendt.

Still, King Academy Award and the Academy could very well be agreeing with each other regarding the Best Supporting Actress category.  As elated as I am that Ms Hawkins (one of my absolute favorite movie stars right now) received her second nomination -- she should have won Best Actress for Happy-Go-Lucky! -- I think that Jennifer Lawrence and Mickey Sumner (as Sophie in Frances Ha) should share this award.  Ms Lawrence in American Hustle reminded me so much of say, Judy Holliday's sterling performance in Adam's Rib.  Or Jean Hagan's performances in Singin' in the Rain and Adam's Rib.  Or Ruth Hussey in The Philadelphia Story, etc, ... Meanwhile, Ms Sumner gave one of the richest and most complex performances I have seen this past year; an exquisite study of female friendship.

As for Best Original Screenplay, notwithstanding the controversy, Mr Allen is deserving of the nomination, but will not win.  I imagine it will go to either Bob Nelson for Nebraska or Eric Warren Singer and David O Russell for American Hustle.

If I were King Academy Award, however, I would give the prize to Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig for Frances Ha.  Seriously, for just this passage alone:

Frances: It's that thing when you're with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it... but it's a party... and you're both talking to other people, and you're laughing and shining... and you look across the room and catch each other's eyes... but - but not because you're possessive, or it's precisely sexual... but because... that is your person in this life. And it's funny and sad, but only because this life will end, and it's this secret world that exists right there in public, unnoticed, that no one else knows about. It's sort of like how they say that other dimensions exist all around us, but we don't have the ability to perceive them. That's - That's what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.

All my love,
xxxoooxxx

Sweating in Chanel

As for the Wife and I's latest journey in to Woody Allen's world of Windsor EF Light Condensed, it was the finest time we had had our passport stamped there for a while.  It is certainly his best film in years, if perhaps not quite the masterpiece that some critics have proclaimed it to be.

There was some lazy editing, and some lazy directing.  Particularly lazy directing with some of the scenes of Sally Hawkins' children.  Also, there were some off notes with some of the jokes, which seemed out of place in this style of film.

Still, great performances abound, and Woody has created a fantastic profound story centered around Cate Blanchett's stunning performance.  As others have suggested, Woody has created his own personal Blanche DuBois.  Ms Blanchett, in fact, does so well, you can practically smell the unseemly sour blend of sweat and Chanel No. 5 pouring from underneath her arms in practically every scene.  You believe the reason for every single lie she tells, and why she feels compelled to share her sob story with every person she meets.  Ms Blanchett and Allen also make it perfectly believable why Blanchett's character is shocked and hurt each time someone catches her in a lie, or expresses anger at her and her ex-husband, played by Alec Baldwin, and the way they wrecked their lives.

The great power, and most profound thing about this film, is that you will not see that crazy person, mumbling to themselves in the street, quite the same ever again.  Every one has a story.

As for one of my favorite actresses working today, Ms Hawkins, she is wonderful, too.  Her American accent is serviceable if not perfect yet -- and will only improve -- and her performance, yet again, of a working class 'free soul' bohemian type is spot on.  Her wild, and from the hip, decisions in romance and money, are expertly integrated and believable.  If Ms Hawkins is not in a period piece, it seems she always will be cast and dressed in this same quirky manner.  I am still a sucker for it.  Methinks the Wife is getting a little tired of it.

I would also urge all fans of fashion and costuming to pay particular attention to Ms Banchett's costumes.  She wears and accessorizes strictly top French Old House Classic designers such as Chanel, and is an absolute knockout in every outfit she wears.  These costumes really nailed home the notion to me just what 'smart' means in terms of clothes and fashion.  And, the fact, that they had her sweat through all these impeccable garments as her character starts to go around the bend, is perhaps oddly, one of the greatest and most moving series of illuminating character statements I will take from this film.

Much of the film was shot in The Mission in the City, which is nice to see.  And, it was nice to see Ms Hawkins drink a Lagunitas IPA.  (Jadot wine is all over the film, and Stoli vodka, too. Jadot is in so many films right now.  They are doing a masterful job of product placement.  My most sincere apologies, but, being in the industry, I can not help but notice wine product placements in film.  It drives the Wife crazy!)

In terms of the horse race, Blue Jasmine will certainly be nominated for Best Picture, and Ms Blanchett has a very good shot at duplicating Ms Leigh's feat as Blanche DuBois, and winning an Oscar for Best Actress.  I would like to see Ms Hawkins get nominated in the Supporting category, but I feel that would be a long shot.

Sincerely highly recommended by the Wife and I, a real return to form for Woody, is Blue Jasmine.











Ciao,
xxxoooxxx

Ah, Windsor EF Light Condensed typeface, so comforting.

For the folks that brought you the forty hour work week,

Happy Labor Day everyone!

Here are some clips for you:

Those are two consecutive clips from John Sayles' 1987 film, Matewan, starring James Earl Jones, Chris Cooper, David Strathairn, and Will Oldham (Bonnie "Prince" Billy.)

Below is a trailer for Made in Dagenham, starring Sally Hawkins, Bob Hoskins, Rosamund Pike, Miranda Richardson, and Andrea Riseborough.

This post is inspired by and owes a serious debt to Hartley and digby over at Hullabaloo.

Ardent

Sometimes you just want to scream.

Really? With everything that is going on right now, an election, a war, a hateful incompetent town of so-called, "Public Servants"? Ugh.

lkq2it4uroigahjreiqmveroiuviojqcfj9pg]g.ho]/f.kopiyrHFOUCWREFWEQHDjchwqqhdhdsdhiuqhdiuhdiuhdhfiuhfm'riwe8325u4pot09rtutulsdif

That is what I think about that.

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

Gotta channel my inner-Poppy.  If Poppy from Happy-Go-Lucky walked by that magazine cover, she would say, "Ah, bless him, poor thing."

Poppy has it all in perspective, bless her!

All my love,
Ardent























P.S.  I did not buy the magazine.





AH

2012, The Summer of Young Love continues.

Went and saw Turn Me On, Dammit one more time before it leaves the Bay Area.  Today is the last day here for it.  The film (print I watched?) goes to Los Angeles now.  Farewell.

The film was even more moving, lovely, wry, and wonderful than it was the first time.  And, this time I noticed the original score a good deal more, and how witty and perfect it is for the story and the little Norwegian town it comments on.

I felt so elated and fresh and special walking past City Hall on the way to BART.  I did not even listen to my iPod on the way home, read my excellent Ava Gardner book on the train, as I watched children play and talk.  One of the children was named Ava.  Was she named after Ms Gardner? They all got off at my same stop.

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

Watched The Newsroom finally upon getting home.  It was a let-down.  I will keep watching it, but it is not likely to become a huge cult, obsessive thing with me.  Too treacly.  Too sweet.  Not cynical or mean enough, Charlie Pierce nailed it in his review of it.  The best thing about it is seeing Sam Waterston's character permanently swacked on Scotch in every scene.  The walk and talks are all over the place, and still pretty frickin annoying.

I love FDR just about as much as anybody else does, but the sermonizing on the Old Great America, plus overlaid with a fruity annoying string score, is going to get old really quick.  Actually already has.

Still, nice to see Allison Pill.

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

But then it was back to a magical dreamy Summer of Young Love clutch of time.  Sweetie asleep on my lap, running my hands through her hair as I watched Submarine.

Submarine was written and directed by "Moss" from The IT Crowd (and his co-star there, Chris O'Dowd, gets a special thanks in the credits), Richard Ayoade.  The film is based on a Welsh coming of age novel that I will be purchasing soon.

Richard Ayoade.  Looking forward to his new career as writer/director.

The film for all its bittersweet perfectness is insanely derivative.  Notably Harold and Maude (just released on bluray by Criterion!) and Wes Anderson's films.  And, of course, Anderson practically owes a good portion of his career to Hal Ashby's Harold and Maude.

(Hey, Wes! I love love love love Moonrise Kingdom, but maybe you should try to make a film like Ashby's Shampoo? That could be dynamite.)

Anyhoo, Submarine is a cult film supreme, full of amazing dialogue, and young love run riot; beautiful scenes of our heroes setting fires, blasting off fireworks, and kissing while taking polaroids.  There is a great deal of pain, as well, though; bullying, death, cheating, lying, spying, desperate adult melancholy that paralyzes, and the arresting youthful fear of surrendering to love.

Alex Turner contributed six of the most gorgeous songs to Submarine.  And I have been absolutely consumed, colonized, and conquered by one of them, Piledriver Waltz.

Plus, Sally Hawkins plays Oliver's Mum.

Crazily highly recommended.  Submarine is streaming on Netflix.










Inventory Thursday.

Was going to write something about SCOTUS here but I am thinking better of it, I would rather think on Jordana and Oliver and those nervous scary moments of seduction and surrender, those polaroids, the flash, the fireworks, the fire.

Pride Kills, brothers and sisters.  It is scary, I know, but my advice to you is, get in touch with it, get out on that limb, and fear not love.  There are worlds and worlds out there, a million doors, open them all.

Yasmin Paige, born in London, England, UK.

Michael

Today (as we hear the beautiful sound of falling rain)

We start w/ discos.  I have been thinking about discos lately.  It started a couple of weeks ago when Renee & I watched Mike Leigh's splendid Happy-Go-Lucky, starring Sally Hawkins.  I have prob shown you folks the trailer already but I do not care:  Here it is again.  (The song used in the trailer is LDN by one of my faves, Lily Allen but this song does not appear in the film.  It would have been a good fit musically but definitely not lyrically for sure.)  Anyhoo, there is a run of scenes early in the film that is some of my favorite movie-making in years.  This run starts w/ a scene of Poppy (Sally Hawkins, our hero) and her single lady friends dancing  to Pulp's Common People in a London disco.  Then it follows them on their walk home, we spend some late-night tipsy-time w/ the women, then finishes the next morning w/ a cuppa (natch!) There are a couple of things to talk aboot here.  First, for me, it is so fucking refreshing to see a scene w/ single women out having a good time w/ no mention of men, no moralizing, no pick-up scene, or ladies whinging aboot boyfriends or lack thereof.  Next, it is fantastic to see these women dancing to Common People, a song that I had forgotten about but should not have.  Common People by Pulp is a disco staple in England to this day, I am sure.  And although v popular here, as well (at the time), is prob now an afterthought, lumped in w/ the Britpop Oasis/Blur wars.  It should not be.  Common People is a majestic class-war anthem that appears to be yet another "spoiled bitch" rock staple e.g. Like A Rolling Stone, practically the entire Stones' oeuvre, etc, ... (The Beatles' Drive My Car or Day Tripper does not qualify as they were obv "joke songs", something the Beatles were exploring at the time e.g. Norwegian Wood, & I'm Down.  I'm Down is a pastiche of American rock and roll music at the time and Norwegian Wood [and Drive My Car] end w/ "punch lines."  McCartney typically winked louder in Drive My Car than Lennon did in Norwegian Wood.)  Common People is the perfect song for these schoolteachers, single ladies, and students to be dancing to.  Jarvis Cocker, the composer, is not "camping" here at all.  This is a sturdy put down to those who feel more entitled than the "rest of us", him included.  Obv this song means more to folks in Britain (& Ireland, I suppose) than it does to us in the US, where class means so little.  In the US all you need is money and like WC Fields in David Copperfield (an American actor in an American version [v good version, too!, showed the world Dickens could be done on film] of a v v v English class-explicit novel) that money is always coming right 'round the next corner.  In the United States of America we are ALL rich and of the highest class, for most of us, it just has not happened YET.  Here is the video (sadly it is a shorter 7" version but should do.)  


******


Discos continue:  My first year of college (1986/7) I used to go to this downtown Austin disco w/ David Barber and this freshman chick from Mexico City.  Maybe Kate went too? I know Allison did not.  Actually, now I think Kate did not, as well.  It was Dave Barber, whatever young chick he was interested in at the time and me and my Kahlua drinking (really? getting prepped for a disco? I know we were eighteen but, ... ) Mexican crush dancing on the weekends in hip Austim, Texas.  I was v proud of my dancing abilities back in the day and when I moved to SF and pretty much got the "word" that the only people who could dance were gay guys and black folk I was pissed and hurt.  Anyhoo, this disco in Austim was fun but pretty lightweight.  There were plenty of times that no one would be dancing at all.  Whene'er those moments happened the DJ would play one of these four songs:  How Soon Is Now? (natch, still played at 80s Nights today, and a monster club track anyhoo), Love Cats, Blue Monday, and Dig It by Skinny Puppy.  Back in the day, like I might have mentioned, I prided myself on my dancing.  I was the white/straight boie who could get down on the dance floor.  And I had set dances that I would perform for both Dig It & How Soon Is Now? (though, now that I think aboot it, it was prob just the same "dance" w/ v minor adjustments.)  


It is funny growing older.  I do not pine for the Citizen Kane youthful days.  I pine for my college years, my marcel (curly) hair (where did that go?, the curls, kids, not the hair!), the drinks/drugs/acting in plays/trying to write like Pynchon/arguing with my friends aboot Madonna (do not worry UT friends, I surrendered to her power years ago)/writing fucking poetry (e'en if most of't was to get laid, not all of it was)/slacking school, hanging oot in the library reading back-issues of Rolling Stone/just the mere thought that while I strolled across campus, walkman blaring REM, I was an actor, script in hand. 


A friend of mine asked me if I would like to start acting again.  I sed, No, that has melted away.  I would like another crack as a singer though.  I want to record again.  Hopefully I will get another crack at it.  

Stephanie Bishop

• When I wake up in the morning and turn on my lovely, majestic Mac Mini (thanks, Mum & Da!) my home page is dailykos.com.  But I am sooooo depressed now with the politics of this nation that I am thinking aboot changing it.  As I sit here now, staring at a photograph of my Mother & I, me four years old, just back from a trip to DisneyWorld, I start to believe that politics is not where it is at.  It is time to dedicate myself to art.  I need to sing again.  I need to write.  I need to dedicate myself to creating & criticizing art.  It will be tough tough sledding but I know there will be more pleasure & depth of feeling in a poem or a play or a Bette Davis gesture or Richard Linklater slow motion sequence than in any satisfaction I get out of bills being passed or court victory.  I am Italian, after all, my peeps come from the barren, godforsaken Abruzzo.  I need to channel my Italian self.  Remember the Third Man:  The Great Welles wrote the speech on the spot. 
• I have been sick for near a week now.  It ended today.  Where I work is so frickin' cold.  My wine department is completely surrounded by coolers and freezers.  And grocery stores are cold typically.  So this morning I slugged my last dram of Nyquil as I had to walk to work in the (v light) rain at six this morning.  I wore a shirt, my badass thick Stax hoodie, and my super-cool Adidas Svenge footie jacket.  Beneath I wore my ultra-rare Bonny Doon Bouteille Call (Booty Call, get it? It is great dessert wine.  It is like Banyuls. I do not know if they make it anymore,) long underwear, and blak jeans (like a rok star should.)  That outfit was great for the rainy walk to & from work today but e'en in the frigid environment that is my workplace I was sweating up a storm.  I had aboot a hundred cases of wine to "throw" today (as we say in the biz), meaning stock on the floor, and w/ every case, as my internal temp rose, I could feel the sikness sweat oot of me.  A couple of times I thought, Cool down, take the jacket off but I did not.  I sweated all of that wretched virus oot today for sure.  
• Some of this stuff has been mentioned before.  Everything is always tied together, after all.  (Note:  these videos are most def NSFW.)  This was my playlist  walking to & from work today:  1. Common People/Pulp (I love the group but I have always, and still do, hate their name, yuk, ... )  2. Burning Inside/Ministry 3. Beers, Steers, and Queers/Revolting Cocks 4. Dig It/Skinny Puppy 5. Minutemen/D's Car Jam 6. Minutemen/Anxious Mo-fo 6. Minutemen/Theatre is the Life of You 7. Minutemen/Viet Nam.  'sfunny, on my way to work this morning I did not get the ipod going until I was on Ygnacio (aboot 3 or 4 minutes in to my walk) and when I landed upon the Food Hole Viet Nam by the Minutemen was playing.  On the walk home I started the same playlist as I left work.  It still ended w/ Viet Nam by the Minutemen.  
• One of the worst things aboot being sik to me these daies:  I cannot taste wine.  It sucks. I tried a glass before bed the other (last) night (of my illness):  It tasted like cough syrup, hot hot hot, no fruit, sad.  
• I got my UK version of Looking For Eric.  Yum-yum-yummy! There are a couple of great things I have to share w/ you that I learned from the fab commentary (by the director Ken Loach and the "hero", "Little" Eric, Steve Evets.)  First, that Loach expressed just the wee bit of unhappiness that one of the actresses in the film was from Leeds instead of Manchester.  The film is set in Manchester, contains much, if not all, the passion, dedication, and lerve that that Mancunians have for Man U.  Apparently, Loach, for his English films, likes to hire only actors from the city they are shooting in.  That is so badass & awesome to me I cannot tell you the ways.  Second, (and I had no idea that Loach, one of my all-time fave directors worked like this) they shot the film in sequence! Not only that, but they gave the actors only "sides" (that means each actor got only their lines) so that it creates an improvisational air on the set.  But, e'en better than that, Steve Evets. playing "little" Eric, had no clue that Cantona was in the picture! Looking For Eric is one of the best films I have seen in years.  Buy it right now on dvd.  Here is the trailer.  It was a smash at Cannes in 2009.  It is dying on the vine in Napa 2010.  Trust the vintage, it is great.  And I would just like to point oot two brill acting performances in this frickin' great film:  Stephanie Bishop as Lily and Gerard Kearns as Ryan.  Bishop is so lovely, her voice pitch perfect, "I loved you to pieces" is still something I say to Renee evry night, and Ms Bishop is so beautiful (and from Manchester, natch) 

Good night & good luck.  

P.S.  Grazie del tuo amore, Bonnie.