this was a week of two halves. the first half was dominated by work and food and i was generally exhausted, having worked for about two weeks doing cover shifts on my days off and seeing chapter be busier than we've been for a year truly took its toll. sunday i missed both the aforementioned poetry and casey's film night and then monday missed ipso facto at clwb then tuesday missed stalker paul barnett's birthday. we missed barnett's birthday for a pathetically middle aged reason: we fell asleep in front of a documentary about disraeli and gladstone after eating a christmas dinner size portion of bangers and mash. rock and roll. well done steen for the amazing sweet potato mash, well done to me for the amazing red wine gravy. top hole. we had a little sit down after such a massive meal and the next thing i knew i could hear steen snoring on my shoulder and the time had long gone to go and play skittles. this week i also spent time watching MARGARET: THE ROAD TO FINCHLEY on iplayer. god bless iplayer, i'm actually watching good tv again. it was very enjoyable and silly, hinting at sexual tension between ted heath and mrs t and demonstrating how frighteningly ambitious she was and scared everyone she crossed. i quite enjoyed all the little comedic irony moments of "carol, when are you ever going to go to the jungle?!" and little mark thatcher getting lost in the sand dunes. i am a bit of a sucker for all politics programmes, dramatised or otherwise.
but i was keeping this to remind myself of the exciting things i did in the week so i should get a move on.
i started doing my ushering shifts in the cinema this week. i can't believe its taken me so long to actually get around to asking graham for these shifts as it is the cushiest number in chapter, which is pretty cushy already. i am on hand for any emergencies and the beginning 20 minutes of any film is disturbed by showing latecomers to their seats, this is true, but to have the privilege of watching all these fantastic films and getting to know the oldies who come in to watch them is wonderful. the first film i ushered for was THE READER. now, i've seen this before and wrote about it on my blog but it was a different experience watching it with a group of retirees who actually remember these days and talking to them afterwards. despite having a lot of nudity, none of them seem to be shocked and all were coming out misty eyed and telling me how beautiful they thought it was.
the next day was THE CLASS, the film about a parisian inner city high school that won the palm d'or last year at cannes. i'd heard that it had very good reviews and praise should certainly be heaped upon the cast of 14 year olds, who were utterly convincing. at the beginning i was thinking "i should really tell my teacher friends to see this" but by the end thought better of it, it felt a bit too real, do they really need to see more of that? it reminded me of all the reasons why i wanted to go into teaching and the reasons i didn't.
i also emersed myself in the lives of the characters of REVOLUTIONARY ROAD for a second time. i only saw it about a month ago but really wanted to see it again and it was just as powerful. i was reminded how claustrophobic it was, how the house they live in seems to act like a pressure cooker for their arguments, the character of april is always keen to escape to the outside, to get out. i've seen it twice, i'll see it again!
on wednesday i was actually convinced to leave the house by PENS and WAVVES in buffalo. it was a relatively late gig, it didn't start until about 10pm and we're so used to early gigs and can't afford to waste our money in buffalo since all the drinks are about £5 each so were on the water. i was a bit worried as one of PENS was sleeping on the sofa before the gig but she completely defied my expectations by being full of energy on stage. the sight of three young girls (one clearly not wearing a bra) was quite, um, stimulating for many of the people in buffalo but they soon backed off once they realised it would be a chaotic lo-fi shambles. i was in the minority of people who thought it was brilliant fun, most muttered "amateurish" like it was a bad thing and just stared at the bra-less girl's shimmying chest. philistines. WAVVES are apparently one of those "band of the moment" bands who i have not heard about but someone in london likes them so they're getting loads of noise made about them, or so i presume. they weren't terrible, just overrated. i was a bit disturbed when i saw their merch stall had t-shirts with massive cannabis leaves on them, who finds this funny after the age of 12? uh oh. the lead singer looks like someone from the OC. he was an arrogant little tyke who needs to have his heart broken or something to give these songs some oomph cos i was pretty bored in a "heard it all before" way through most of the set although the last one was spikey enough to make me dance quite a lot, if only the whole set had been like this and not songs about getting fucked and playing computer games. but PENS signed our 7" by drawing porno pictures and writing "merry christmas" so the night ended well.
thursday the tv was in my diary. RED RIDING on channel 4. i was a bit nervous about this, as i'd heard it was going to be a triumph and thought it would only disappoint if it had been talked up so much by the guardian. but there was no need to be worried, i was thoroughly gripped. it was sort of an anti- life on mars. there has been so much 70s nostalgia programming going on about how much better things were then, that life was simpler: women knew their place and men were men. i get really sick of that, people writing "i am gene hunt" in their status updates and women denying being feminists and sending photos in to nuts magazine. in RED RIDING the police are brutal and corrupt and the women are there to prop up the egos of men, be mothers or lovers and racism is accepted and expected... or else. this village in yorkshire was more LEAGUE OF GENTLEMEN than HEARTBEAT, everyone was dirtied by some kind of pay off. it was shot beautifully, like the lens was smeared with grime. the cast was amazing, it was like all the best actors in the country had signed up, even for a couple of lines of dialogue. its in three parts and i can't wait to see the other two.
saturday saw the start of the INTERNATIONAL WOMAN'S DAY celebrations in chapter and clwb ifor bach. upstairs in the llofft we had LOVECHILD by the theatre group blunt instrument, showing the a woman who was put up for adoption go to find her birth mother. anne is a woman elegantly and tidily dressed in sharp tailored grey, beige and white, her ordered personality reflected back to her in the sparse, clean elegant set. into this walks billie: chaotic, emotional, dressed in bright billowy clothes. she is about to turn her life upside down. when the play first started i was afraid it would be too wordy for me, i've been so used to physically demanding theatre recently and it was to be over an hour of these two women talking but very quickly it drew you in, you developed an understanding of these people and where they had been and wanted to know what they were going to do now they were reunited. the ending was devestating. billie picked and picked at anne, taking apart her life, digging into her past until she cracked. anne's slow, cathartic breakdown, superbly played by polly kilpatrick, where she admitted having dreams about the baby she gave away just got me in the gut. the baby that can never be comforted, memory's scream that can not be silenced, i have experienced that emotion and down the tears fell. i was ushering for this and had to gather myself together but i had butterflies in my stomach for a long time afterward.
rushing from that to clwb in the rain and wind did me good, it blasted me out of that room and into the night. LOOSE and PEPPERMINT PATTI were co-promoting this gig of KING ALEXANDER, THE DULOKS and THEORETICAL GIRL. i missed king alexander, for shame! but they're playing another loose night on the 7th may so i'll not miss that. i entered clwb only to have THE DULOKS make fun of me for being late. if there is a prize for best banter, these ladies would win big. they were very very entertaining on stage, it was like watching punk stand up. they dragged up on stage people taking pictures of themselves rather than the band and outed them as an incestuous couple (they weren't), they made fun of the old men sat on chairs at the front and did some ace song and dance numbers about being pirates and bad vegetarians. big grin throughout. a quick trip to the merch stall to say hello to one half of the promotion team and buy a duloks album and an interesting looking zine by colette rosa. then THEORETICAL GIRL took to the stage, a bit nervous but looking fabulous in understated neon (is that possible? yes, its possible). 50% of the crowd had left (don't get me started on how much seeing your mates' band then fucking off annoys me) but those that stayed got treated to perky pop songs about heartbreak. she explained how she had brought a giant keyboard as a backing track to play her songs and it worked really well, the crunchy guitar numbers were my favourite, a good foil to her sweet home counties voice. the piano numbers made victoria wood pop into my head though, once there it was hard to get out.
today is officially international woman's day and SCRABBLE SUNDAY! wooop! i've also been getting excited about my birthday plans in a month as this year is a big birthday and it coincides with easter weekend and the loose all dayer and a twisted night out AND a scrabble sunday. very fortuitous! i feel like some god of good things is treating me for my birthday to distract me from how momentous a day it is. can i really be in my 30s in a month? golly.
Showing posts with label the reader. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the reader. Show all posts
8 Mar 2009
20 Feb 2009
there was a delay in writing of this edition. the delay being the temporary loss of my diary. i learnt some valuable lessons this week. lesson #1: i realised how completely dependant i am upon my diary. lesson #2 i have no hard drive keeping info like this in my brain. it is stored in the diary. lesson #3 i will endeavour never to take my diary out of my bag whilst rooting around for my purse / make up bag again to run the risk of losing this again.
the loss of my diary caused a massive confusion and meltdown in my brain. can you work this shift? I DUNNO! can you come to my gig? I DUNNO! do you want to go for a cup of tea and a catch up? I DUNNO! you get the picture. very distressing. after a couple of days of phoning the two shops in town i'd been to and found them NOT in possession of my diary like i'd hoped and searching the house in vain i started to look around for another diary (or more specifically filofax, for i like to shove bits of paper and write notes for myself and find this the most satisfying bit of kit). i could not find anything that came up to scratch. they didn't make my style of filofax any more, since i've had it for about 5 years and fake filofaxes were either too boring or too big. ooh how vexing. i met my mate richard for a drink and we exhausted the subject of computerised watches, phone organisers, palmpilots, little diaries you get from smiths and both agreed there is nothing as useful as a brand named filofax. all i need is a massive suit and a flat in town and you may call me a yuppie. anyway, eventually it turned up, courtesy of CINEWORLD. i have been going to cineworld for the last 9 years. i have in this time donated £10 every month to their cause (not very worthy, i'll give you) with my cineworld card and left a few objects there before (umbrellas, gloves, keys) and got them all back. however, they do not have a direct line number, you cannot talk to a real person i cineworld and it took me a week to find time to get back over there, i'd asked staff who did not know a number for me to call in but said someone would call me back. i spoke to a nice security man called steve who called me back ON THE CINEWORLD LINE. i now have something they don't: their 02920 contact number. now diary is restored to my lap i can now look back on the week safe in the knowledge that there is a little bit of paper that contains my memories.
the beginning of the week was taken up with helping our friends casey and ewan with their shoot for the video for FUTURE OF THE LEFT's new single. i have no idea what it is called, or how it sounds cos i turned up after work which was well after the band were having their final shots and everyone had got sick of hearing the song in question. the lead singer has had a nice new haircut and a local groupie was trying to pull him on the shoot. that is all i can tell you about any gossip, its not very exciting, is it? what was exciting was spending time with old mates (casey, ewan, ed, carl, iain and leah) and some new ones (ryan, llyr, amy, rob, willy) and POLO THE DONKEY. yes. a donkey. in a pub. we got shouted at by some mad locals in the VULCAN PUB an unfancy place opposite the very fancy atrium in the city centre and watched a donkey shit on the floor and had to stare at some things. i think my friend percy the dead bird got utilised in a shot and we had to wear clothes that made us look like we were in the 1930s. steen even had to eat crisps with his thumb. it was lots and lots of fun. i hereby officially declare that i will help those boys out any old time they need (ewan and casey, not future of the left).
a quiet couple of days then ensued where we didn't really want to be outside in the cold rain any more and we rented out VENUS from the library. venus is a film staring peter o'toole as an old actor who is best mates with leslie phillips and falls in love with leslie phillips' great neice who comes to stay with him. when she arrives she is a bit vicki pollard and leslie phillips is disgusted with her but peter o'toole, the old devil, fancies his chances and takes her out to a bar. it is a strange story, unsurprisingly written by hanif kureshi. it had great reviews when it came out but i was a bit sceptical. i was in the cinema for THE MOTHER and hated it. hated it hated it hated it. i also thought INTIMACY was a pile of middle aged fantasy wank. however, i loved MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE when i saw it on channel 4 in the early 90s and taped every episode of BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA so have a prickly relationship with kureshi, i don't know if he's going to make me slap him or hug him. VENUS is a wonderful film. the performances are sparkling, they are having so much fun and its so meaty and sad. you have a real sense of them being real people with real histories, they are completely believable.
thursday was diary loss day, but i didn't know that at the time. i merely got paid and decided to go to town to get some supplies and go to the cinema. i went to see REVOLUTIONARY ROAD, the sam mendes film with leonardo di caprio and kate winslet. having seen THE READER the week before i was worried it would be a bit too much winslet for one month. but not true. i thought this was truly one of the best films i've seen. winslet and di caprio played a couple in the 1950s who were struggling with weighing up the comforts of suburbia with the emptiness they felt in this life when they felt they were destined for something else. these characters really penetrated me and i could not stop thinking about them for days. i felt like it was something we still have to make decisions about. i quit my job and dropped out of that comfort of 9-5 office work over a year ago and its been bloody hard but i am so much happier knowing that i'm finally being true to myself. i was thinking about them for days. the film will be in CHAPTER in march and i will be going to see it, probably about 3 more times.
saturday was LOVE DAY. neither me nor steen really believe in the falsity of valentines day. i got him a present but not because it was valentines day, just cos there were some cameras for sale in the CHAPTER shop and it was a good excuse. i made it clear that it was NOT A VALENTINES PRESENT. instead we planned to make a nice tea, get drunk and go dancing. only two thirds of this plan came to fruition. we both got back from work about 6pm-ish and the plan was to make a main course (spinach and soft cheese omlette - steen) and a dessert (chocolate cake - vaughan). both took the same amount of time to bake (30 mins) so the cake could cool whilst we were eating then we could decorate. well, that was the plan. the cake in the end took over an hour (why? i cannot say) so by the time it was finally ready we were VERY DRUNK on cava and red wine. rather than leave it to cool we decided to ice it straight away. the icing was to be melted chocolate mix then writing icing. we spilt half the melted chocolate over the floor when the bowl flew off the cooker. we put the rest on the cake. i'd forgotten to bulk it up with icing sugar so it just melted into the still-very-warm cake. by this point we were just convulsed with giggles so got the writing icing and drew a big yellow cock on the cake. nothing says valentines day like a big yellow cock, right? we force fed each other cake and more wine. we realised it was 10.30pm, we were covered in chocolate like kids and very drunk and not going to make it to twisted. happy love day.
the loss of my diary caused a massive confusion and meltdown in my brain. can you work this shift? I DUNNO! can you come to my gig? I DUNNO! do you want to go for a cup of tea and a catch up? I DUNNO! you get the picture. very distressing. after a couple of days of phoning the two shops in town i'd been to and found them NOT in possession of my diary like i'd hoped and searching the house in vain i started to look around for another diary (or more specifically filofax, for i like to shove bits of paper and write notes for myself and find this the most satisfying bit of kit). i could not find anything that came up to scratch. they didn't make my style of filofax any more, since i've had it for about 5 years and fake filofaxes were either too boring or too big. ooh how vexing. i met my mate richard for a drink and we exhausted the subject of computerised watches, phone organisers, palmpilots, little diaries you get from smiths and both agreed there is nothing as useful as a brand named filofax. all i need is a massive suit and a flat in town and you may call me a yuppie. anyway, eventually it turned up, courtesy of CINEWORLD. i have been going to cineworld for the last 9 years. i have in this time donated £10 every month to their cause (not very worthy, i'll give you) with my cineworld card and left a few objects there before (umbrellas, gloves, keys) and got them all back. however, they do not have a direct line number, you cannot talk to a real person i cineworld and it took me a week to find time to get back over there, i'd asked staff who did not know a number for me to call in but said someone would call me back. i spoke to a nice security man called steve who called me back ON THE CINEWORLD LINE. i now have something they don't: their 02920 contact number. now diary is restored to my lap i can now look back on the week safe in the knowledge that there is a little bit of paper that contains my memories.
the beginning of the week was taken up with helping our friends casey and ewan with their shoot for the video for FUTURE OF THE LEFT's new single. i have no idea what it is called, or how it sounds cos i turned up after work which was well after the band were having their final shots and everyone had got sick of hearing the song in question. the lead singer has had a nice new haircut and a local groupie was trying to pull him on the shoot. that is all i can tell you about any gossip, its not very exciting, is it? what was exciting was spending time with old mates (casey, ewan, ed, carl, iain and leah) and some new ones (ryan, llyr, amy, rob, willy) and POLO THE DONKEY. yes. a donkey. in a pub. we got shouted at by some mad locals in the VULCAN PUB an unfancy place opposite the very fancy atrium in the city centre and watched a donkey shit on the floor and had to stare at some things. i think my friend percy the dead bird got utilised in a shot and we had to wear clothes that made us look like we were in the 1930s. steen even had to eat crisps with his thumb. it was lots and lots of fun. i hereby officially declare that i will help those boys out any old time they need (ewan and casey, not future of the left).
a quiet couple of days then ensued where we didn't really want to be outside in the cold rain any more and we rented out VENUS from the library. venus is a film staring peter o'toole as an old actor who is best mates with leslie phillips and falls in love with leslie phillips' great neice who comes to stay with him. when she arrives she is a bit vicki pollard and leslie phillips is disgusted with her but peter o'toole, the old devil, fancies his chances and takes her out to a bar. it is a strange story, unsurprisingly written by hanif kureshi. it had great reviews when it came out but i was a bit sceptical. i was in the cinema for THE MOTHER and hated it. hated it hated it hated it. i also thought INTIMACY was a pile of middle aged fantasy wank. however, i loved MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE when i saw it on channel 4 in the early 90s and taped every episode of BUDDHA OF SUBURBIA so have a prickly relationship with kureshi, i don't know if he's going to make me slap him or hug him. VENUS is a wonderful film. the performances are sparkling, they are having so much fun and its so meaty and sad. you have a real sense of them being real people with real histories, they are completely believable.
thursday was diary loss day, but i didn't know that at the time. i merely got paid and decided to go to town to get some supplies and go to the cinema. i went to see REVOLUTIONARY ROAD, the sam mendes film with leonardo di caprio and kate winslet. having seen THE READER the week before i was worried it would be a bit too much winslet for one month. but not true. i thought this was truly one of the best films i've seen. winslet and di caprio played a couple in the 1950s who were struggling with weighing up the comforts of suburbia with the emptiness they felt in this life when they felt they were destined for something else. these characters really penetrated me and i could not stop thinking about them for days. i felt like it was something we still have to make decisions about. i quit my job and dropped out of that comfort of 9-5 office work over a year ago and its been bloody hard but i am so much happier knowing that i'm finally being true to myself. i was thinking about them for days. the film will be in CHAPTER in march and i will be going to see it, probably about 3 more times.
saturday was LOVE DAY. neither me nor steen really believe in the falsity of valentines day. i got him a present but not because it was valentines day, just cos there were some cameras for sale in the CHAPTER shop and it was a good excuse. i made it clear that it was NOT A VALENTINES PRESENT. instead we planned to make a nice tea, get drunk and go dancing. only two thirds of this plan came to fruition. we both got back from work about 6pm-ish and the plan was to make a main course (spinach and soft cheese omlette - steen) and a dessert (chocolate cake - vaughan). both took the same amount of time to bake (30 mins) so the cake could cool whilst we were eating then we could decorate. well, that was the plan. the cake in the end took over an hour (why? i cannot say) so by the time it was finally ready we were VERY DRUNK on cava and red wine. rather than leave it to cool we decided to ice it straight away. the icing was to be melted chocolate mix then writing icing. we spilt half the melted chocolate over the floor when the bowl flew off the cooker. we put the rest on the cake. i'd forgotten to bulk it up with icing sugar so it just melted into the still-very-warm cake. by this point we were just convulsed with giggles so got the writing icing and drew a big yellow cock on the cake. nothing says valentines day like a big yellow cock, right? we force fed each other cake and more wine. we realised it was 10.30pm, we were covered in chocolate like kids and very drunk and not going to make it to twisted. happy love day.
18 Jan 2009
the start of things
i am going to attempt to keep a diary but this will be easier if i just do it online. i want to train my brain to type again.
this week is almost at an end, although since i started working crazy hours and weekends week ends don't really exist any longer, there are just days and days and events and work and home. today is a sunday though, the newspapers are big and everywhere was asleep this morning.
it still being early in the year, there have not been many gigs as yet but i have been supplying my brain with films to distract it instead. this week i watched the baader meinhof complex, dean spanley, the reader and patti smith: dream of life in the cinema and mother night and don't look now on dvd. that looks like a lot, doesn't it. tonight we are going to techniquest to watch josie long in the planetarium doing comedy. excitement brought to us by lisa and ben of the junket club.
baader meinhof complex:
this was a slightly dissatisfying film. maybe i didn't know enough about it going in or maybe i was bringing too much of my own baggage from spending time with so-called anarchists when i was younger but i didn't think these were a glamourous bunch of freedom fighters, just a bunch of heartless twats. having seen hunger just before christmas and finding it really effective and beautiful, this just left me a bit cold. andreas baader: cock. ulrike meinhof: middle class guilt queen. i just felt that there were so many needless deaths and especially since the 60s hippie dream resulted in the capitalist wank fest of the 80s and the collapse that is going on at the moment it just seemed really hollow. or maybe it was just me being cynical. i dunno, i suppose it was quite well made, the cast was like a greatest hits of all the best german films i've seen in the last 5 years but i didn't think it clung together very well. i just wish i'd read a book instead.
dean spanley:
a shaggy dog story. really moving and gentle and different to the films i usually see. peter o'toole is an old cumudgeon who is visited by his son every thursday and his son is getting increasingly irritated by this routine seeing as his father is at that age where it seems only correct to be as much of an awkward old bastard as is possible. an encounter with an indian holy man talking about reincarnation and the dean of a local church leads him to believe that the dean is a reincarnation of his father's beloved dog wag, who ran away years ago and seems to be the only thing he grieves (although he also lost a son and a wife in the last few years). it was a lovely little film and made me cry buckets (the o'toole character reminded me of my bamp who died a few years ago). it had bryan brown and sam neill and was quite delightful and thought provoking. i really enjoyed it.
the reader:
nazi tits. sorry, had to get that out of my system. its been sitting in my brain like some sort of mental tourettes. kate winslet is naked for a lot of this movie. this is a good thing and yes, its integral to the plot etc. she starts an affair with a teenager (15 years old) in post-war germany and although happy in the moment, seems sad most of the time. he is naive and lost in this first love and then she suddenly leaves him. years later he is a law student and attends a war crimes trial where she is a defendant and her secrets are discovered. this marks him for life and makes him profoundly sad. again, i think the book was probably better than the film but it was filled with lots of good performances and has the great bruno ganz in a supporting role.
patti smith: dream of life:
dreamlike and fragmented, this documentary does not tell a chronological tale of her life but you get to the bare bones of the woman far more directly. filmed over 10 years, this film has intimate moments looking at trinkets in an apartment and having tea with her parents as well as some very public moments like demonstrating against the iraq war and firey possessed performances. i went to see patti smith a few years back in the coal exchange and it reminded me how inspired i found her, how i just felt so enthused and energised having witnessed her on stage. i've read books on patti smith and have her poetry but nothing came close to seeing her flirt girlishly with old love sam shepherd and pouring out the remains of her friend robert mapplethorpe, gazing at them at saying they were more like "shells", sparking lots of images in my head and thinking about lost loved ones. wonderful.
mother night:
this adaptation of a kurt vonnegut novel is on loan from my friend carl, a similar vonnegut obsessive (who, to my delight, has a signed picture drawn by vonnegut in his house). the film was strange, the story was pure vonnegut in its surreal distorting of history. nick nolte plays an american writer living in germany in the 1930s. when war breaks out he gets a visit from an american who asks him to be a spy for his country but only on the condition that no-one will ever know that he is a spy. he becomes a successful propaganda radio dj and is happy with his wife and their "nation of two". when she dies he flees to america where he lives a dull life, waiting for his own death but then the secret gets out and he is discovered. for shame, i haven't read the book its based on but it felt very much like a vonnegut book in style. its the first film adaptation of a vonnegut book i've seen and i'm a big fan and wasn't that impressed. he's a very funny dark writer and moves back and forth in time, but film was a little dull, seemed to go on a bit long and despite having alan arkin in it wasn't that funny. it was interesting but i wouldn't point people towards it, really.
don't look now:
always worth watching, i don't even know when i first saw it, it seems to have always been there in my life. such a beautifully executed tragedy with nic roeg's classic heightened reality and oddly framed angles. the use of colour is extraordinary, with its red reds and its spidery greys and browns. i was introducing it to someone tonight but disappointingly he had already seen so much and its been so often referenced in popular culture the ending was not a surprise and i think the magic was taken out of it a bit. when i watch it i am still rooting for donald sutherland and hoping afresh that he'll realise his fate and not go down that alleyway and i cry buckets in the first scene, almost unaware of what is about to come. the supernatural elements often overlook the intimate portrait of a falling apart marriage which makes up the bulk of the film, it is all together perfect.
this week is almost at an end, although since i started working crazy hours and weekends week ends don't really exist any longer, there are just days and days and events and work and home. today is a sunday though, the newspapers are big and everywhere was asleep this morning.
it still being early in the year, there have not been many gigs as yet but i have been supplying my brain with films to distract it instead. this week i watched the baader meinhof complex, dean spanley, the reader and patti smith: dream of life in the cinema and mother night and don't look now on dvd. that looks like a lot, doesn't it. tonight we are going to techniquest to watch josie long in the planetarium doing comedy. excitement brought to us by lisa and ben of the junket club.
baader meinhof complex:
this was a slightly dissatisfying film. maybe i didn't know enough about it going in or maybe i was bringing too much of my own baggage from spending time with so-called anarchists when i was younger but i didn't think these were a glamourous bunch of freedom fighters, just a bunch of heartless twats. having seen hunger just before christmas and finding it really effective and beautiful, this just left me a bit cold. andreas baader: cock. ulrike meinhof: middle class guilt queen. i just felt that there were so many needless deaths and especially since the 60s hippie dream resulted in the capitalist wank fest of the 80s and the collapse that is going on at the moment it just seemed really hollow. or maybe it was just me being cynical. i dunno, i suppose it was quite well made, the cast was like a greatest hits of all the best german films i've seen in the last 5 years but i didn't think it clung together very well. i just wish i'd read a book instead.
dean spanley:
a shaggy dog story. really moving and gentle and different to the films i usually see. peter o'toole is an old cumudgeon who is visited by his son every thursday and his son is getting increasingly irritated by this routine seeing as his father is at that age where it seems only correct to be as much of an awkward old bastard as is possible. an encounter with an indian holy man talking about reincarnation and the dean of a local church leads him to believe that the dean is a reincarnation of his father's beloved dog wag, who ran away years ago and seems to be the only thing he grieves (although he also lost a son and a wife in the last few years). it was a lovely little film and made me cry buckets (the o'toole character reminded me of my bamp who died a few years ago). it had bryan brown and sam neill and was quite delightful and thought provoking. i really enjoyed it.
the reader:
nazi tits. sorry, had to get that out of my system. its been sitting in my brain like some sort of mental tourettes. kate winslet is naked for a lot of this movie. this is a good thing and yes, its integral to the plot etc. she starts an affair with a teenager (15 years old) in post-war germany and although happy in the moment, seems sad most of the time. he is naive and lost in this first love and then she suddenly leaves him. years later he is a law student and attends a war crimes trial where she is a defendant and her secrets are discovered. this marks him for life and makes him profoundly sad. again, i think the book was probably better than the film but it was filled with lots of good performances and has the great bruno ganz in a supporting role.
patti smith: dream of life:
dreamlike and fragmented, this documentary does not tell a chronological tale of her life but you get to the bare bones of the woman far more directly. filmed over 10 years, this film has intimate moments looking at trinkets in an apartment and having tea with her parents as well as some very public moments like demonstrating against the iraq war and firey possessed performances. i went to see patti smith a few years back in the coal exchange and it reminded me how inspired i found her, how i just felt so enthused and energised having witnessed her on stage. i've read books on patti smith and have her poetry but nothing came close to seeing her flirt girlishly with old love sam shepherd and pouring out the remains of her friend robert mapplethorpe, gazing at them at saying they were more like "shells", sparking lots of images in my head and thinking about lost loved ones. wonderful.
mother night:
this adaptation of a kurt vonnegut novel is on loan from my friend carl, a similar vonnegut obsessive (who, to my delight, has a signed picture drawn by vonnegut in his house). the film was strange, the story was pure vonnegut in its surreal distorting of history. nick nolte plays an american writer living in germany in the 1930s. when war breaks out he gets a visit from an american who asks him to be a spy for his country but only on the condition that no-one will ever know that he is a spy. he becomes a successful propaganda radio dj and is happy with his wife and their "nation of two". when she dies he flees to america where he lives a dull life, waiting for his own death but then the secret gets out and he is discovered. for shame, i haven't read the book its based on but it felt very much like a vonnegut book in style. its the first film adaptation of a vonnegut book i've seen and i'm a big fan and wasn't that impressed. he's a very funny dark writer and moves back and forth in time, but film was a little dull, seemed to go on a bit long and despite having alan arkin in it wasn't that funny. it was interesting but i wouldn't point people towards it, really.
don't look now:
always worth watching, i don't even know when i first saw it, it seems to have always been there in my life. such a beautifully executed tragedy with nic roeg's classic heightened reality and oddly framed angles. the use of colour is extraordinary, with its red reds and its spidery greys and browns. i was introducing it to someone tonight but disappointingly he had already seen so much and its been so often referenced in popular culture the ending was not a surprise and i think the magic was taken out of it a bit. when i watch it i am still rooting for donald sutherland and hoping afresh that he'll realise his fate and not go down that alleyway and i cry buckets in the first scene, almost unaware of what is about to come. the supernatural elements often overlook the intimate portrait of a falling apart marriage which makes up the bulk of the film, it is all together perfect.
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