A Busy Week

A total lack of updates.

But, Netflix is taking 4 days to send me movies anymore.

I am in my 16th day in a row at work. Seriously.

It is my last day though this week, thank god.

Tomorrow I head up to South Bend with Dad to see Notre Dame vs Purdue.

And cross my fingers that the Phillies can make up this game in the wild card.

Did anyone watch that game last night? My. God.

Come on Phils, Come on Irish, and stop slacking, Netflix.

Lost and Found

Sometimes my own absentmindedness stuns even myself. After working all day Sunday on my day off at the museum I decided to hit the Fox and Hound to watch the Eagles dominate and demoralize the 49ers. I only had one beer since I had an indoor soccer game that evening at 9pm. Around 630, with the Eagles in complete control I wind up heading out to leave and realize I have no idea where my keys are. Fantastic. I look around, check the bathroom, check the car. Nowhere to be found. Ask if any have been turned in, it's a negative.

I wind up calling a friend for a ride back to my place. I get what I think is my spare key, but it's to a differenr car apparently. After some pleading with her, I am able to borrow her car. It's 830. Just run home quickly, get a change of clothes and be at my game for kickoff. I get home and am locked out. Terrific. Of course my house and car keys are on the same chain. I miss the game, our last game of the session.

Eventually, around 10pm, just as our indoor team's game was ending I get a ring from the Fox and Hound. They found my keys. They had been there all along, someone just put them in a different lost and found drawer. But, the Eagles both won. The Philadelphia Eagles and the indoor soccer Eagles. So, all is not lost.

Now, we are just in the process of trying to get a team together for the next session. I hope our goalie returns my call and is game.

All The Real Girls, d. David Gordon Green

The first time I saw All The Real Girls was about 4 years ago on DVD. I was at my girlfriends place at the time. We were just spending a day inside watching films. It was about 2 years into a start/stop relationship. But I had recently decided to treat her better and try to make it work. To grow up in a way. The second time I watched All the Real Girls was last night. 4 years later. That perviously mentioned relationship long over. And two other relationships including one which I thought was definitely headed towards marraige over. Viewed in the wake of failed relationships this film is about as devistating as they come.

The first scene, the first shot is about one of my favorite moments in film. A steady camera sees two people against a grey fall landscape. The woman is looking away when a man asks her what she is thinking. Her response is that she likes him, she likes him cause she can say what's on her mind. But what's on her mind? What follows is a good two minutes or so where the characters decide if they want to kiss. The camera stays still and they are in the center of the frame. Fade to black 4 times, each time with a different shot of the town, a rundown Tennessee or North Carolina mill town, before coming eventually restarting the movie with 4 guys, 20 somethings walking down the railroad tracks. One of them is the guy we just saw with the girl.

We find out that it was Paul in the first seen with Tip's sister. Tip and Paul are best friends. #1 best friends. But Paul has slept with every girl in town. Tip's sister is back from boarding school, and doesn't really know of Paul's past escapades. At one point she mentions she will not ask him about them. He only needs to tell her if he wants to. Paul at one point tells Noel that he doesn't want to sleep with her, because he doesn't want her to be like all the other girls.

It's simple really. Two kids fall in love and attempt to stay in love despite everyone around them thinking its a bad idea, that its gonna fail. Paul does his best to prove that she isn't like every other girl to him, which is easier said than done for just about anyone. What seperates it from other love stories is there is absolutely no gloss here. Paul and Noel both say and do incredibly stupid things. At times inmature, at times hurtful, at times genuinely beautiful. It's clumsy as hell all the way through. It's not easy. It doesn't seem to all fit together. We don't know really how Paul and Noel met, in the opening scene we just see them and we know that they are connected in a very meaningful sense of the word. And we watch them clumsily and akwardly try to maintain or sustain or maybe just understand that connection.

I've spoken to many people who I respect about this film, who's tastes seem similar to mine, and they have hated it. One reason was the language. It's shot in a mill town. The language is simple it's drawn out. And as I said at times immature. But this is the template that David Gordon Green is working with here. We recognize that in the still images of the town right after the first scene. It's not a judgemental eye that he casts on his characters at all. He is not saying that everyone from these towns looks, talks, and acts like this. He is just saying these people do. When Zooey Daeschnel says in a southern draw, "I like you because I can say what's on my mind..." there is so much emotion behind those words, it doesn't matter that you have heard them 100 times before, or that she says it in a souther drawl. What matters is she gets so much life into that line, its impossible at least for me, not to be affected.

In Green's direction the town is also a main player. Sometimes we will hear voiceovers of conversation, but all we see is the sunset. Or the river, or mountains, or trees. It's fall or winter, but nothing is especially bright, or beautiful. It's brown, it's dreary, it has it's moments sure. But only when the two are really in love and sharing that love can some of the beauty of the town be realized. People don't leave this town. They stay and work at the mill. They can have the shadow of the mill and the thoughts of never leaving run and be their life. Or they can create something beautiful within, and have the mill be behind them, even if it is central in the town.

I know someone who saw this movie after a terrible breakup who just flat out refuses to watch it again. Maybe it was too real. Maybe that clumsiness in the way that we sometimes try to show we love eachother is too much. Some people will be turned off by that clumsiness. Other people will see it and be totally drawn in or captured by it. I was entirely captured by it.

Red Means Go

I can only write about this because the Phillies have an off day today. Otherwise even mentioning it would give the Phillies a loss this evening. Thank you schedule gods.

I remember last year too vividly. I remember the David Bell error. I remember Craig Biggio hitting the home run off of Billy Wagner and ultimately ending the Phils season. I remember missing the wild card by one stinking game. But you know what. David Bell isn't here anymore. Billy the mouth isn't here anymore. And for the first time in months we are at a place where the Phillies are actually on the inside looking towards the postseason. Our magic number is 11.

Check this out. Over our past 21 games our starters are 9-3 with a 3.38 ERA. The NL ERA leaders for the season are the Marlins with a 4.08. Really. And when we need it most we are at 3.38. Compare that with those chumps up north (the Mets) who have their "ace" crying in the dugout. Compare that with the Dodgers who have lost two in a row to the Pirates.

You can just feel it. The guys are confident. They are talking about it.

Mike Liebrethal - "That's the key. That's the key to really getting into the playoffs and getting far in the playoffs. It's starting pitching. I think our starting pitching is as good as it can be right now."

Charlie Manuel - "Yeah, I think we're going to win it. I think we've got a good chance to win. All we have to do is what we did tonight. Come to the ballpark Friday and win a game. Let's see how many we can win before the season ends"

Brett Myers - We've got guys who have been in the playoffs with [Jamie] Moyer and [Jon] Lieber,[Randy] Wolf has been here a long time. [Cole] Hamels is coming up, but he's got great stuff, but I don't think people understand how good he is. We just to be supportive of each other. We help each other out."

Let's face it. Moyer, Lieber, Myers, Hamels, Wolfy. These guys can all perform in the playoffs. They can all go deep into games. Utley, Howard, Rollins, these guys are dying for the big stage.

Abe Nunez is now batting a season high .214.

This team is about to do something really really special. I can't wait to watch Ryan Howard's first October.

Far From Heaven d. Todd Haynes

It's been what, 4 years now since Far From Heaven was in theaters. I had heard numerous good things about it. I had seen it recieve positive reviews from people whom I usually agree with, or at least respect. I never got around to actually watching it till last night. I think I just had it blocked out. In my mind I juist had it as some Oprah Winfreyesque mellodrama or triumph of the human spirit story. While waiting for some Netflix films though, I checked this out from my library and watched it last night.

From the opening shot I really was sucked in. A very nice crane shot through some of the brightest orange and yellow leaves brings you onto the streets of a 1950's New England town and the font that announces the films title is classic 1950's style font as well. Soon enough we are at the house of Mrs. Whitaker (Julianne Moore). The yard is perfect. The trees still have the very brightest leaves, the grass is the greenest green and kids are reprimanded for saying "shucks." We learn that Mr. Whitaker (Dennis Quaid) is a highly successful sales executive and that teh Whitakers are so well respected in the community that that Mrs Whitaker is having a profile done on her by the local newspaper or magaizine. Splendid.

Of course then from there the film attempts to tackle both homosexuality and racism in one fell swoop through the lives of the Whitaker family. The film shouldn't succeed. It's too much to chew here but it works. I was stunned. The darkness of the issues is contrasted by the most polite of dialogues and the vibrancy of the color througjout the movie. Only once does Mr. Whitaker swear at his wife, and immediately after he apologizes. I believe the term "homosexual" is only used even once in the movie, almost as if the townsfolk didn't want to even acknowledge that persons dealt with such desires. The music seemingly stolen from 1950's archives. I'm not sure Julianne Moore or Denis Quaid have been better in any roles.

Everything is so over the top from another world that I was completely sucked into the movie. Truthfully, the setting and the time made it much more affecting than I think a film could be if it was set in 2005 America. It was almost as if we were being told, these problems confrinted families and communities even back then, and still do today. How far have we really come? It seems odd now that I let my own preconceptions get in the way of seeing this long ago.

64th and Broadway Screening Room

Well, yeah I guess I could write about Notre Dame forgetting they had a game to play on Saturday. Or about the most absolutely epic Eagles collapse since, well, last year. But since that's depressing, I will just mention a little on movies I have watched in the past few week. All of which actually deserve more than the few sentances I will write about 'em.

Days of Being Wild - I love Wong Kar-Wai movies. It's a bit of a strange paradox for me. His characters are often times of the playboy variety. I find myself hating that kind of person in real life. I don't seo much care for the detached from tehir feelings sleep with whomever type. It's just not my style I guess. But somehow Wong Kar-Wai makes me sympathetic to these characters, and his films without fail are absolutely stunning to look at. Days of Being Wild was one of his earlier works and actually one of his more straight forward naratives, even if it does have its jumps and twists. Truthfully, it's not that far behind In the Mood for Love when it comes to artistry and the effect of the story. That's pretty impressive for an early work.

In Praise of Love - It's no secret I adore Jean-Luc Godard. He is my favorite director ever. This film is absolutely stunning to look at. It has moments of beauty in dialogue. It has other moments of dialogue that will please many cinema fans as it references John Ford, Bazin, Henri Langlois and others. Godard made this for a specific audience I guess. But I guess he also assumed the audience wanted to hear tons of anti-american ramblings. The movie is disconnected enough as it is (which isn't always bad, Godard has made some great diconected films) but then it gets bogged down in sophmoric pointless anti-american ramlings. It's really a shame, cause if a few themes wre actually chased here instead of just passed over quickly this could have been a great film.

La Promesse - This is simply a gem. Set in Belgium a son is born into a life of crime when his father takes in illegal imigrants to work for his company. Eventually he has to chose between showing loyalty to his father or a young widowed African woman. Moral questions galore. Family ties or maybe doing the right thing. This is just a tight well constructed story that really makes me wanna see more films by the Dardenne brothers who directed this. It's hopeful, it's tragic, and it sticks with you long afterwards. It's pretty much has everything I would want in a movie.

Album of the Moment - Mountain Goats, Get Lonely

Halfway through September, I am convinced that the fine folks at 4AD must be considered to front runners for the record label of the year. I mean, between Mojave 3's Puzzles Like You, the new Scott Walker, M. Ward, and TV on the Radio, you would think it was enough. But then I listened to the new Mountain Goats record, Get Lonely and I was just floored. It's up there with Mojave 3 and Asobi Seksu's Citrus as a favorite album of the year candidate for me.

I'll be honest. At first this album didn't hit me as hard as I would have thought. Earlier Mountain Goats efforts were very accoustic guitar driven. It was in fact only the accoustic guitar and the pleasantly annoying voice of John Darnielle. You had no choice but to focus on the lyrics. And the lyrics were beautiful, and devistating. Tons of songs about love and love lost. And travel and it was just how I wanted them to sound. When the Mountain Goats moved to 4AD the sound got progressively more lush. I still think Tallahassee may be their finest hour, and that was a 4AD record, so, I was not entirely against the all together more new lush sound. But I am unsure maybe if I was ready for how "pretty" Get Lonely would be at points.

In one review of Get Lonely there was this little snippet...

I introduced myself to John Darnielle after his performance at this summer's Festival, and this conversation happened:

Darnielle: Have you heard the new album?
Me: Yeah, I just got it.
Darnielle: What do you think?
Me: I've only heard it a couple of times; I'm still processing.
Darnielle: Do you have a girlfriend?
Me: Yeah, she's right over...
Darnielle: I hope she leaves you. Then you'll understand it.

He was joking. I think.

Besides the fact that this reviewer actually could say "I'm still processing" with a straight face I find that conversation pretty funny. Get Lonely is heartbreaking stuff.

Some lyrical moments...

on the morning when I woke up without you for the first time,
I felt free.
and I felt lonely.
and I felt scared.

the first time I made coffee for just myself,
I made too much of it.
but I drank it all,
just 'cause you hate it when I let things go to waste.

i lay right down next to you
held your head against my chest.
and a guy with any kind of courage
would maybe stop to think the matter through
maybe hold you still and raise the question,
instead of blindly holding on to you.
but we crank up the heat
and you giggle and moan,
spend all night in the company of ghosts, always wake up alone

Wow, that's a lot of text already. But, the whole album is pepperred with stuff like this. Either a man trying to get through a relationship that has broken, or deal with the aftermath once it is pronounced broken. The man wonders around alone. Talks to himself. Is scared. Almost anyone has been there at some point before. Which, is why in my opinion this record is more accessable than the Sunset Tree which was a more autobiographical account of a broken house. As opposed to older Mountain Goats records, this is gentler, prettier, all those words. You have some delicate finger picking. We have strings now. Chimes. Soft piano. To me it initially was a distraction to the lyrics, but I think that's just cause I am used to the older Mountain Goats sound, even though they have been moving this direction for years now. Now, I think it fits the album perfectly.

At any rate, Here is a video for Woke Up New one of the better moments on the album. And here is a page of older Mountain Goats mp3's.

And for the record, my full endorsement of this album does not neccessarily mean I am spending my time just moping around being depressed, at least not all of my time.

Thursday Quick Hits

Is it absurd that I am addicted to Project Runway. Or do I just adore Heidi Klum.



No need to really answer that.

Pop Matters has a decent Fall Movie Preview. I gotta say, there are several that I am excited about this coming fall. In no meaningful order what excites me most are...

1. Babel
2. Marie Antoinette
3. The Fountain
4. Pan's Labryth

And that's not even to mention the Viva Pedro series A Pedro Almodovar retrospective that will show 6 or 7 of his films up at the Landmark Theaters in Castleton starting October 13th.

It's been a strange week for articles on churches. First the Time article, and then this article on a hipster church in Salon. It's long. But interesting and worth a read. You have talk of repopulation. Hellfire and brimstone preaching. Tatoos. And a lot of stuff that leaves me scratching my head that I may think more about in less busy times.

On sports...Notre Dame vs Michigan this weekend. I hate Michigan about as much as the New York Mets. So I am far to nervous to even talk about that game. Or the Phils wildcard chances. But I fully expect the Eagles to inflict the deepest darkest depression upon the Giants after a dominating and demoralizing victory this coming Sunday.

Time - Does God want you to be Rich?

The cover of the latest Time Magazine garnered my attention last night. The question on the cover was, "Does God Want You to be Rich?" My initial thought was if he did, I wouldn't have forgotten to log a $170 check in my checkbook last week. But since I was on break I decided to sit down and give it a read.

Not suprisingly the article focused on what the author referred to as "propsperity light" preachers. You may have seen these guys on tv if you can stomach it for more than a few minutes. People like Joel Osteen. This guy is an interesting character. Joel's church congregation meets in a former basketball arena. It's that large. How embarassing must it be if you hit snooze a few times and park your Caddy towards the back of the lot and need to sit in the nosebleeds for church? If politics and backbiting sometimes happen at smaller churches, I wonder if this church seems like an episode of Laguna Beach, only less attractive. I kid around, a bit, because that is not my kind of church at all. Then again, I would have never guessed my congeregation of 50-75 people would be the kind of church that I would be in or consider my home.

The cover is a bit misleading to the story within. The question itself is a loaded question. Does God want us to be rich? I don't think it's the case that God would not want us to be rich. There can be the arguments made that money is a false idol. That when money is around, in abundance one finds less reason to depend on God for whatever reason. These are valid and coherent arguments. They can be made more coherently by someone who isn't blowing 20 minutes on his lunch break like myself.

But, when I see the mention of God "wanting us to live life and live it more abundantly" I don't see monetary capital being the abundance he was talking about. It's Sunday school speak I am getting into right now just without the felt board and felt puppets, but to me it always seemed to be emotional and spirtual capital that Jesus was centering on. In the way he lived his life, in the people he travelled and ate with, and in those he chose as his disciples.

I do not consider myself a class warrior by any means. I wish I was rich. I don't hold wealth against people. Sometimes, maybe shamefully, I am more aggrivated by the panhandler than the guy in the limo. Were my job to be more lucrative I certainly wouldn't turn down the extra money for some pious reason.

More often than not I do think that God shares a desire with his people, whether it be love, prosperity, job advancement, or an Eagles Super Bowl victory. I do also think that there are times when we do not get what we want, that should not be attributed to God's will. I do think that he cries along with us in these times. Jesus did weep. God does not always get what he wants. I think it's naive and a bit fatalistic to assume because there are wars in the world this is God's will, or because there is extensive poverty, sometimes especially amongst Catholics, Christians in South America that this is God's will. I just don't see a loving God thinking "Yeah, that's okay because their dependance on me is now greater." Sometimes their is injustice. This is planet earth in 2006.

Whether or not God wants you to be rich, whether or not prosperity light teaching is heretical, whether or not mega churches or house churches really are sidetracks from the main question. How can we best show love to our neighbor?

Your 64th and Broadway 2006 NFL Preview

I can't wait for Sunday.

It's gonna be phenomenal when all the talking heads start coming around and saying, "Well, we all knew the Eagles would bounce back and be phenomenal this year..." No you didn't assholes. You were doubters. And you remain charlatans.

And as the Eagles plow through their schedule absolutely demoralizing opponent after oppenent, your 180's on the Eagles won't change the fact that you all aere frauds.

And when McMVP leads the Eagles to a Super Bowl victory, sweet justice will rain down over our fair country. Gas prices will drop down to $1.00 a gallon. And you will be able to pay for that in new solid gold coins which are imprinted with the face of Andy Reid. Yet every city will have a light rail as well. These cost of light rails will be taken from the money the Eagles are under the Salary Cap. They will still remain under the cap, cause the Eagles are salary cap geniuses.

Reggie White will reappear from the heavens, walk into Canton and tell them he should be wearing Kelley Green in the Hall of Fame.

Jerome Brown will rise from the dead to take part in the victory parade.

Scrambling Randall Cunningham, the greatest QB who ever played the game will be given a Super Bowl ring as a life time achievement award. The ring will be presented by Buddy Ryan, who will swallow his pride and apologize for not giving Randall a good offense to work with. Coincidentally this will be just moments after Buddy Ryan swallows Rich Kotite.

And as all this unfolds before your very eyes, somewhere in the background you will see Jevon Kearse sack Osama Bin Laden.

And we will all be dancing to Justin Timberlake's remix of Fly Eagles Fly.

And you will love it, and I will love it, and we will all love together, because Big Red Andy Reid said so.

God Bless you, God Bless us, God Bless the Eagles, your Super Bowl Champions.

No End

No End is Krzysztof Kieslowski’s first collaboration with Krzysztof Piesiewicz,the screenwriter who would work with Kieslowski through the end of his life and on the Colors Trilogy as well as Dekalog. It is also the first of Kieslowski’s collaborations with composer Zbigniew Preisner, who also worked on the aforementioned films. As No End begins we are overlooking a city in Poland as Preisner's score plays in the background. The score is ominous and weighted. Already we know that we are about to see something profoundly sad.

The first words of the film come from Antek who is sitting in the bedroom while his wife is asleep in the bed behind him with their son. He informs us that he died four days ago but he is sitting right there in front of us talking. Throughout the remainder of the film we see Antek from time to time, and when we don't see him his spirit is felt by the viewers and more deeply by the characters in the film.

The film focuses primarily on Ulla, who has been widowed. Antek was a lawyer who fought very hard for the causes of Solidarity and the minority party in Poland. The film is set in 1982, Poland is still a communist country. Antek was highly regarded by many others for his work in the resistance to the Communist regime, and at the time of his death was working on numerous cases. While Antek's influence hovers over one case in particualar and over his lawyer mentor it is Ulla who obviously feels his lost most deeply.

One morning Ulla makes two cups of coffee out of habit, and pours one into the sink after realizing what she's done. Later on she allows a man whose hands are like Antek's to purchase her a drink. She sleeps with him, but leaves immediately after telling him in Polish all about her loss and love for Antek. The man does not speak Polish. She drops her son off at school and sits on a bench, and we see Antek beside her, yet she can not.

The film has similarities to Kieslowski's later work Bleu, in that we are taken very deeply into a world of sorrow of a woman who has been widowed. In Bleu we see the woman try to dissappear for a while. In No End we see the woman picked up for a while, at least by those aligned with the cause her husband fought so bravely for. We can't point towards actual moments of dialogue, but it's clear that Ulla's involvement in one case that her husband left behind is what is keeping her going. The relationships pale in comparison to her sorrow for her loss of Antek, but thet are all she has, and they keep her on her feet and moving. Still, she can not entirely escape her sorrow.

And here comes a spoiler about the ending, so read no further if you want to see this.

Ulla eventually drops her son off with her mother, after the case her husband left behind has been decided. She comes home, covers the vents and takes tape to her mouth as she turns on the gas stove and is ready to take her own life. Again then we see Antek. He only says "Hello." We see them then walk out of the room, initially holding hands briefly, before seperating and just walking side by side together as Preisner's score plays again.

Everybody had problems with this movie, and the ending. It was not liberal enouh for the left, it was too liberal for the left. And of course, the Catholic church did not like the allusion to suicide. It's no wonder that after this when Kieslowski turned his attention to the Dekalog and Colors trilogy he made the Colors trilogy especially independendent of political leanings and the Dekalog with unique looks at the Ten Commandments.

To me, Kieslowski is almost a saint of cinema. Every once in a while I remember he is dead and we won't see any new films from him. And when this happens I am saddned for days on end. It sounds ridiculously mellodramatic, but it's true. And this film was a perfect example of why I feel how I do about his films.

I will not pretend to understand how a film which deals entirely with a widow and her profound sense of loss, then ends with a suicide rises above all of this and somehow becomes a beautiful life affirming piece of art. But, in the end this is what has happened. The marraige of Ulla's sorrow to her husbands cause carried her along for a while when she couldn't carry herself. And while her sense of loss is so deep she wants to end her life we can't fault her. When Antek says hello we feel something entirely different than we felt just moments before when we saw her preparing to take her life. We still have deep sorrow, this remains one of the more profoundly sad films I have ever seen. But the final scenes take it beyond that again to seeing value in life and love. And, honestly, I can't think of any other story tellers than Kieslowski and Piesiewicz who could pull this off.

Projected @ Radio Radio

This is more like it. Tomorrow night at Radio Radio will be the first of an eight part film series presented by IMOCA.

Projected is a series of highly-regarded contemporary films rarely seen in Indianapolis. The lineup itself looks impressive. There is s good mix of what looks to be drama, suspense, comedy, domestic and foreign films. Kudos to Radio Radio, easily my favorite music/World Cup viewing venue in Indy for opening up their doors to do this.

Tomorrow night's film is a French murder mystery, musical, comedy 8 Women. The Preojected site describes it -

A delightful murder mystery by director Francois Ozon. Not only does this film have a feel of an Agatha Christie story, it also breaks into musical numbers throughout making each scene a surprise. And what a cast! Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Virginie Ledoyen, Ludivine Sagnier, and more. Runtime: 111 minutes.

The show viewing is only $3. And the bar will be open. I am intrigued and excited to see what kind of crowd this brings out. I have only seen two of the films on the announced list, The Happiness of the Katakuri's and Vertical Ray of the Sun. And if the remaining films on the list are as interesting as those this should be a special treat for Indianapolis cinephiles.

Hopefully word of mouth spreads, and this draws a good enough crowd to be a seasonal series.

The Weekend

Weekends like the one I just had can not so much be summarized or put into story form and passed on to other generations. Instead weekends like the one I just had can only really be experiences. However, in the spirit of Jean-Luc Godard's narrartion from Band of Outsiders I will offer a few words chosen at random.

A wedding.
Dancing.
A Hospitality room with open bar.
Absinthe.
Isle of Juma.
Dancing.
"Internet Friends"
Legends.
A Notre Dame Victory.
Drunk phone calls.
Tears.
Bon Jovi.
Covington, KY/Cincinnatti, OH.
A treadmill.
A recovery day with a Project Runway marathon.

Coherent posting will resume tomorrow when I talk about the IMOCA Projected Series at Radio Radio, which I am really looking forward to.

Weekend Quick Hits

This weekend will be for me, one of the greatest end of summer parties I could imagine. In Cincinnatti, my friend Brian is getting married. Friends who I have not seen over a year will be there. In our hotel room alone we have Tog, Kristi, Wilson, and myself representing Seattle, Columbus, Delaware, and Indy respectively. People from all over the country will be here for this one. I may be staying through the entire weekend, and possibly even seeing the Reds play the Giants on Monday. It shall be fantastic.

Speaking of basbeall, last nights Phillies loss had everything. Not just one, but two bullpen imposions (why is Arthur Rhodes still closing games?). A great moment (Howard setting the single season Phils homerun record) overshadowed by total ineptitude (the winning run in extra innings scored on a pased ball that doesn't even get behind the catcher!). An ex Phillie (Marlin Anderson) showing more heads up play last night in scoring the winning run than he did in his whole tenure with the Phils. And a blown chance to take the wild card lead. I love sports.

In keeping with my love of sports, I have noticed all around Indy signs for Notre Dame kickoff parties. The Mousetrap on Keystone, and Coach's Tavern downtown to name just a few. I wonder where these kickoff parties were the past few years, but I can't really complain. They claim to bleed Blue, Gold, and Green. And, at some point this season I will watch a game at one of these bars. I can't say much else about my expectations for the season as I am terrified and nervous as hell. So, I'll just say Go Irish.

In music news, the new Bob Dylan album is phenomenal. Musically it's great and picks up where Love and Theft left off. Personally, I would put Time out of Mind up against any of his albums from the 60's or 70's and say that it is at least as good. And while Modern Times hasn't hit me on that emotional level just yet, it still is well worth a listen. And, yes, you can understand what he is saying. It really doesn't even take much effort.

Also on the music front. The new Justin Timberlake leaked. It's the funnest album of the year. Sexyback is the single of the year. The rest of the album is nearly as fun and danceable. I love it. And I love Dylan, and I see nothing wrong with that.

Arthur has started an Indianapolis Bloggers Ring. There is a handful joined up so far. Probably more to come. The blog ring link has been added to the side bar.

Finally, on a somber note, Actor Glen Ford passed away earlier this week at age 90. I was lucky enough to watch the classic Western 3:10 to Yuma last week and loved Ford's performance, and was ready to search out many more of his films after watching that. So it was odd, when just a few days later I saw his obituary. Tim over at Xanadu has a nice writeup on some hilights from his career and his reactions. RIP, Glen Ford.

A Place in the Sun

In 2006, the age of tabloids and celebrity gossip, it is sometimes difficult to remember that once upon a time Elizabeth Taylor was a respectable actress, and also stunningly beautiful. Of course part of this is her fault, for reducing herself to a punchline, but when you go back and look at some of her earlier films you realize what a great screen prescence she was. Her performance in George Stevens' A Place in the Sun is just one of many things to absolutely love about this film, and she was not even as good as Montgomery Clift!

I'm gonna say something outlandish here, but there is absolutely nothing that I did not like about this film. There is nothing that I would change about it. I loved every scene, every line, every performance. Visually the film has to be a masterpiece of black and white pictutres. Every shot looks so crisp. Close ups of Elizabeth Taylor make it seem as though the water in her eyes will seep through the screen. Scenes of the rich anmd wealthy in LA and their swank dance parties are done nearly as perfectly as similar scenes in last year's Pride and Prejudice. And when you step into the apartments of the less well off the mood and yearning for something better is palpable.

I was also suprised by my reaction to the story. Montgomery Clift plays George Eastman. He has hitchhiked out to LA after his very well off uncle promised him some work. He starts off with menial work at his uncles mill and winds up romantically involved with one of the coworkers, whom as an Eastman, he is not supposed to socialize with. Eastman's are a class above these other workers. However, as he works his way into his Uncle's good graces he also catches the eye of Angela Vickers (Elizabeth Taylor). The Vickers are in the same heightened social sphere as the Eastman's. Their vacations become front page news in the papers. As a romace begins to develop between Angela and George, he finds out he has gotten his previous lover pregnant. Of course, this can only end badly.

Now, in almost any other circumstance I would be livid and find myself thinking that George has to stand beside his pregnant girl, and provide for her. Yet, here I found myself hoping that something would work out for George that would allow him to continue his ascent to the upper class and be with Angela, whom he truly loved. Somehow, the story of the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks had me so much that I put aside moral obligations and rooted for George. And I didn't think twice about it till afterwards, the story had me that caught up.

Shock Corridor

One area of film I admittedly know nothing about is what is referred to as film noir. I can't recall any "classics" of that genre which I have even seen. I do however know that Samuel Fuller is associated with that scene, so when Shock Corridor in his half of the Netflix queue I had to make a point to see it.

The film is written, produced, and directed by Sam Fuller. It stars Robert Breck as Johnny Barrett. He aspires to win a Pulitzer Prize by solving a murder committed in an insane asylum that cops have been unable to solve. In order to solve it he will fake insanity and be admitted to the asylum after his lover (a wonderful Constance Towers) files a fake complaint under the guise of his sister about unwanted sexual advances. Of course this does not come easily, she first balks at the idea fearing that the insanity will rub off on him and he will be made insane himself. It doesn't take long though for her to go through with her part of the plan, apparently out of love.

Once in the asylum everything takes off. We are introduced to a black man who is a white supremacist and dons a KKK mask. A War Vet who believes he is a Civil War general, an large opera singing man who makes murderous gestures with his hands in the middle of aria's, and a nuclear physicist who has regressed to the mind of a 6 year old. All of these characters seem written very over the top, but thats perhaps part of the point. As Barrett tries to solve the murder he is forced to take part in their delusions to get the information he wants.

Sometimes during the stories that the inmates tell Fuller cuts away from the black and white that the story is told in and gives us stick color footage that loosely pertains to the issues the inmates are talking about. Racism, war, etc. These moments are really jarring but somehow do not take you out of the story. They seem to compliment the over the top story telling of the mental patients. Yet, one has to think that surely, they are there for Fuller to get across a political agenda, at least in part.

In my opinion Breck carries the film. A lot of the film is focused on his facial expressions as it seeemed at least half of it was voiceovers as his character Johnny Barrett walked the line between sanity and insanity. As I mentioned before it;s shot entirely in black and white, yet even in a well let mental hospital Fuller found good use of shadows and lighting at times for appropriate darker moments.

The film begins and ends with the quotation from a philosopher, "Whom God wishes to destroy, he first turns mad." And while at first we don't think much of it, when it shows up again at the end, it seemed to me Fuller was attempting to teach us something about the risk such foolhardy selfish ambitions as Barrett's.

Weekend Quick Hits

It's been an on and off week of posting here. Mostly due to tiredness, and the fact that it hurts to type. That wrist injury that I mentioned earlier, suffered in the soccer game hasn't gotten any better. And really, I think that something in there may be broken. Of course, there is a game Sunday, so I need to play. And after that I am not free till Wednesday, when I have a day off from work. So, that's when we will get it checked out. Ugh. But, some films and wild card fever have taken up my mind in the meantime.

3:10 to Yuma - Suddenly I am on a bit of a westerns kick. 3:10 to Yuma is one of the better one's I have seen though. It clocks in at just about 90 minutes so it is a quick watch. The last hour is incredibly tense and just fly's by. You think you are seeing maybe one of the better films you have ever seen, until the ending. A friend tells me to ignore the ending as it was just symptomatic of Hollywood at the time (1957), and that makes a bit of sense. It's based on an Elmore Leonard story, so the dialogue is quick and a bit more grey than some black and white moral dilema westerns. Given the way teh story progresses the camera also focuses much more on the faces of our characters than the expansive lanscapes of some other westerns. Apparently this is being remade,
and apparently Russell Crowe is due to star. I guess Elmore Leonard's name is still gold, with good reason. Now let's see if they can do something bout that ending.

Les Carabiniers Apparently critics hated this when it came out. It's certainly not the prettiest Godard to watch. Full of stock footage and title cards it's interesting as hell. It's a dark sometimes comedic ant-war film. The payoff comes during a postcard scene at the end. Much like the apartment scene in Contempt or bedroom apartment scene in Breathless during the scene at one point or another I felt as if it will never end. But then that eventually passes and I felt like I was seeing something special, or at least something different than I have seen before. And, it's those moments that keep me coming back to Godard, and make him my favorite director.

And finally, your eventual 2006 World Series Champion Philadelphia Philles. I've held off writing about them because I don't wanna jinx them. And it seem absurd, as I had written off this season as a disaster 3 or 4 times already. But somehow this team keeps fighting back. And now they are only 1 1/2 games out of the Wild Card. They are doing this with players like Chris Coste, Shane Victorino, Abe Nunez, and Joe Thurston getting regular at bats. Are you kidding me. If you told me those guys would be starting in August, I woulda guessed we have been mathamatically eliminated. What's even better? On a clear night I can get 1210 AM the Big Talker on my car stereo, and driving around to the final inning or so on my way somewhere hearing "Put this one in the win column for the Phitin' Phils!" is about the best phrase of summer. 2 months ago I never woulda guessed following this team would be so fun down the stretch, but they have made a believer of me. I fully expect this team to win the Wild Card now. How did this happen? I'll try not to analyze it and just enjoy it. Cause really, few things are more exciting than a competitive baseball team in September. It's as good as it gets.

Your 2006 Summer Session Eagles Update

I haven't written much since the first game of the season about our soccer team. There have been a few reasons for that. The first game of course we won, 10-2. Your truly made like Dado Prso, though with much less physical fitness and scored two goals. A flying start and we were 1-0.

5 weeks later our team is 3-3. Not terrible mind you, especially for a team that is only in it's first sesssion together. Not terrible when you consider how half the time we need help remembersing some of eachothers names.

This past week was the most frustrating game. A 6-0 loss to a team that coulda likely scored more goals if they weren't just dicking around. What made it even more frustrating, was that it was the first time I had played in nearly 3 weeks due to a pulled quad. What's more? I sprained my wrist fouling some chump into the wall with a few minutes left in the game.

I wonder if I will ever be 100% healthy during the course of the season. I am far to stubborn to let stuff heal properly. The pulled quad, the wrist, the lacerated ego. I was running a few times a week on my pulled quad, which never erally 100% healed. Yesterday I went down to 16th Street and kicked around for an hour, did some sprints, and ran. All on what might be the hardest soccer field in all of Indiana. It might as well be concrete. Again not good for my quad really.

At any rate, I can't picture not playing. My homeboy Spitz has new shoes for this weeks game and assures me they are championship quality. Can't miss that right? Besides that, i just have a place set in my mind where I want my fitness and match fitness (I love that phrase) to be by the end of this session. I definitely wanna keep playing more sessions. I may be joining even a second league. Now that I am out there the competitive itch is back. If only my body would catch up with my mind.

Henri Langlois - Phantom of the Cinematique

"I haven't seen that film yet, but I hope they mentioned how Langlois nearly singlehandidly save Western Civilization from the Nazi's in his bathtub"

That was the response of a friend on hearing that I had just viewed the documentary Henri Langlois - Phantom of the Cinematique. And while that statement sounds like ridiculous overstatement it's actually not far from the truth. As Langlois's woefully short Wikipedia entry states he was a pioneer of film preservation. But that really only tells a fraction of the tale.

Langlois risked his life numerous times to preserve films from the Nazi's. His passion for cinema led him to be called the Godfather of the French New Wave. His preservation of films allowed him to show films all the time at the Cinematique which was attended religiously by Godard, Truffaut, Chabrol. Put simply and bluntly, film would not be the same today were it not for the efforts and passion of Langlois.

The documentary itself is about 2 hours long, and while it may seem a bit overlong at times to those who don't have an interest in the subject, to those who do have an interest in film history, it is essential viewing. Vintage interviews with Langlois, footage of Truffaut and Godard, interviews with Chabrol. Footage of the demonstrations in the streets after Langlois was ousted from his position at the Cinematique. All of this is edited extremely well, and you can tell the documentary was a true labour of love. And really, few subjects are more deserving.

I can't speak highly enough of this viewing experience.