Sunday, September 20, 2009

(Ignore) Wishing I could kick 18 year old me


















Four years after a mysterious and ambivolent relationship towards The Grifters I have finally come to see what lies beneath its facade of Cusack and Houston. I don't remember what circumstances compelled me to purchase it, but I did and it had remained idly unwatched in my enormous disc hefter for the past four years; until Friday night.

Pulp. The kind that gags you with unneccessary nomial references in conversation. Let me give you an example of the dialogue:

Roy (John Cusack): Come on in, Lilly. Hi, Lilly.
Lilly (Angelica Houston): Roy. Long time no see
Roy: Eight years Lilly. I'm just making some coffee. Youwant some? Just instant.
Lilly: It'd be nice, Roy.
Roy:Come on,sit down, Lilly.

Lilly: Got a great view, Roy.
Roy: Glad to see ya, Lilly.














The short version: Lilly wanders around a race track, gets a call to do a job in California. She meets up with Roy an ambiguous lover/son? of hers. He obviously hates her. He is seeing Myra (Annette Benning), also a grifter, who wants him as her partner. Things go wrong, people are burned, shot, and jugulars are impaled with broken glass. The end.

The long version: The characters depth goes as far as their names. They are only names on a page. They aren't real people with feelings and motivations. They are badly rendered pulp cutouts. The opening scene is enough to establish Roy as a petty con man and that he lives, more or less, comfortably in an LA apartment. We meet Myra, a tacky, trophy wife-ish demeanor that is the lust object of our protagonist. She is ditzy and a bit sketchy but overall inconsequential. When Lilly is sent to LA on a job for Bobo she makes her way to Roy's apartment. She introduces herself to the front desk as Roy's mother, a reference that is carried heavily throughout the plot. He is disenchanted by her visit which leads to a trip to the hospital and a confrontation of the two women. Lilly is obviously jealous but must keep up her motherly role and Myra begins to see that there is more going on. Eventually Myra owns up to being a con and tries including Roy in forays. She wants him in on a long con and he's a long con man. Meanwhile, Lilly visits Bobo who puts a cigar out on her hand and threatens to beat her with a towel full of oranges, probably because he knows she's been stealing from him. *Spoiler* In the end, Myra tries to strangle Lilly, but Lilly shoots her in the face and fakes her own death. She then tries to steal Roys money, but he finds her and then she hits him in the head with a breifcase while he's drinking a glass of water and the broken glass rams itself into his jugular. Myra= dead. Roy=dead. Lilly=off with Roy's money. Me= that movie was terrible

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

7 Up and 7 plus Seven

I started the Up series today. And the entire time I kept thinking of what horrors Fortuna had in store for Neil. The mere mentioning of the series to anyone who has seen it results in a sigh, and a "poor Neil." On the back of the dvd case Neil's story is described as "heartbreaking." So there I am, watching Neil, rocking nervously back and forth thinking cancer, auto accident, murder, disfiguration, institutionalization, and other unpleasantries my brain automatically associates with "heartbreaking" things. Daren't you spoil it for me!

Oh, yes, but there are other children too. Well, I have to say I rather like Bruce the sensitive one, Tony the jockey,Nick,angsty Nick, Paul the "foreign" one, Symon the minority, Peter the dreamy astronuat, and (of course) Neil the "heartbreaker." I suppose the three girls--Jackie the outgoing round one, Lynn the middle one, and Sue the boys' favorite--were all right as well. There may be something wrong with me, but I took a liking to John, the self-assured rich one. It may have been his eyes, but who's to say. Andrew, the one that tries to fit in, and Charles, the inside outsider, were mildly interesting.

I'm curious to know what I was like at 7. Since I wasn't able to be there and all. They all seem so literate and educated and can sing Waltzing Matilda in Latin, dear Rodia! I don't understand. At 7 I was setting things on fire, disecting Barbies, climbing trees, and detesting school. I probably couldn't have sat through an interveiw. Which brings me to my next point; Americans are barbarians. But that will have to wait for another day.

Next on the Agenda: 21 Up and a refutation of Grey Gardens as my future

Friday, September 11, 2009

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Future skeezer pleasers (note no Danny Kaye involved)

Watch these--

Dear Zachary: A letter to a son about his father

Wild Combination: A portrait of Arthur Russel

Anvil! The Story of Anvil!

In a Dream

The spectacle of Steve Lopez

Last night I attended a talk given by Steve Lopez, the author of The Soloist. Before Steve Lopez became Robert Downey, Jr. he was perusing the streets of LA for a column. How and why he came to be head over heels for Nathan Ayers is pure marketability. During his speech he discussed his only interest in Ayers was that he had previously attended Julliard. Had he not, Steve Lopez told us he would have given up and moved on. Was the accreditation of Julliard the only thing that made his life worth writing about? What makes a person's life interesting enough to be worth a column in the LA Times? Mr. Lopez's semi-sympathetic attitude towards the homeless and mentally disabled was overshadowed by his own career and desire to exploit an individual more talented and interesting than himself. Despite the funny self-abasement Steve Lopez pandered off at the beginning of the lecture where he apologized for not being Robert Downey, Jr. (apology not accepted) he didn't seem terribly interested in the life of Nathan Ayers at all. I think this is where a lot documentaries fail (arguably the Soloist isn't necessarily a documentary). Obviously Lopez had some conscious, some empathy and heartfelt concerns but his overall attitude and demeanor spoke of the struggles of a journalist trying to find a story to gain readership. I don't mean to attack the morals of journalism, but a feeling of arrogance, in this case, won over inspiration.

Plans and schemes.

I've been scoping out different film festivals and these are the few that seem the most interesting: The Big Sky Film Festival (locality is always a plus), The First Glance Film Festival in Philladelphia, and the Chicago International Film Festival. All of these are still tentative, but I hope to make it to one. Eventually.

On a more productive note, I've acquired a video camera for vlogging (I feel ashamed typing that word) but nonetheless I feel like I should contribute to my documenting of documentaries through docuementive means (how meta). I'm still trying to figure out if I have all the cables to the camera, but when I do expect to see my blabbering mug making cameos every once in a while.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Vacuum entrees and reef stews.

Last week kicked off an unexpected obsession with documentaries and the various humanoidal subjects they depict. On the off chance that sounded derogatory I meant only that the people I've been watching are more interesting, genuine, and thought provoking than most persons I've encountered. They have a super-human quality better than any fiction. The documentaries I've been watching tend to be centered around one or two main subjects (people, not concepts neccessarily) with an emphasis on the individual, average, working class citizen. How and why this certain genre is so enthralling (to me anyways) and how it functions in the narration of daily life through different perspectives and motives is the aim of this project.

The following entries will generally be devoted to one film. I encourage commenting, calling bullshit, and other pertinent feedback. I promise not to have more than three glasses of wine before blogging. I hope this act of integrity will be shared with any commentators. Suggestions for films to watch would also be lovely if anyone feels so inclined.