Category: Film

Off to work in 45 minutes

And I have to say it’s a really good feeling.

Vilma fed us (me Mike Jeff and Keith) chicken and salad and baked apples and cake with fruit and whipped cream, and it was HER birthday.  This amuses me; anybody who knows me knows I’ve often done the cooking not only for my birthday but for mother’s day, as I don’t really take any of those days seriously anyway, much as I know other people do.

Then we watched a film that was so amazing I am going to have to obtain a copy and watch it repeatedly.  It’s called It Might Get Loud and if you’re a guitarist, or a fan of any of the bands Led Zeppelin, White Stripes or U2, or like slide guitar, it is a must see.  It’s pretty overwhelming, and when they break out ‘the Weight’ by the Band and play a three guitar/two singers version of it it’s like every campfire Mike ever played at got slapped up onto the screen.  Mindblowing.  The best parts are the thirty second bits where all three of them start ramping up on one of their hits (like Ramble On) and all three guitar sounds come crashing together.  Spinechilling.  I was gawking like a complete hick and exclaiming under my breath during the entire movie.

Vilma is 42.  Devoid of makeup and fresh from an encounter with a hot stove, there is no way in hell you could give her a day over 35.  She says she has good genes. Mike, you lucky barstard.

Tonight I will attempt once more to get bandified or at least singing groupified.  We shall see.

The chocolate chip banana pistachio bread is all gone

ScaryClown was here last night to ingest food, beer and ZULU in that order.  We had fun.  I have seen that movie at least twenty times, and every time it blows me away.  Keith was here too.

Today I am being different versions of myself.  Off to a meeting in PoCo this afternoon.  Perhaps I will go to some kind of social media Tweetup tonight but then again, maybe not.  I’m finishing up a couple of songs, you know how it is when you’re hacking away at the ends of things and they take slightly more time than anticipated; at the same time starting things seems to go much faster.  nautilus3 is scowling.  Then she smiles.

I’m getting the playing callouses back on my fingers.

A friend just emailed me a job listing that sounds perfect for me.  I heart my friends.

Jeff cleaned the furnace filter.  Unless I can come up with a better word than disgusting, it will have to do.  The furnace filter appears to have been manufactured sometime prior to the dawn of time.

nautilus3 will like this. It’s the Gordon Mackay catalogue from early in the last century.  The colours and textures and design are wonderful.  Colin forwarded the link via facebook.

small world

I follow Salim Jiwa on twitter and regularly go to his site vancouverite.com – he’s a professional independent internet reporter, which makes him kinda cool in my view.  He doesn’t represent me personally in the information collection business, but ANYBODY who is trying to make a go of independent reporting, especially if that person makes their political biases known, is okay by me.  I know people who don’t have much use for him because of his reporting (“self-serving, incomplete and useless” were among the characterizing words :)) of the Air India bombing (for which I got call up papers as a potential juror, as did Patricia, and this is long before I met her), but you can expect anybody in the court system to pretty much loathe anybody with “Press” tucked into their hatband.  As I have now spent a good portion of my life for the last 5 years trying to come up with ‘news’ (only had one scoop, but o well) on a daily basis, I have some sympathy for how bleeping hard it is, and thus am somewhat more prepared to cut slack.

Anyway, I saw somebody mentioned on his site the other day, and as soon as I saw the name I thought, “I grew up with that kid in Ottawa, except he’s a dirty great grown man now with a really really fine ‘stache.”  So I messaged Salim and yup, he lived across from me when I lived on Dunham in Cardinal Heights. He even remembers me.  I remember him, he was one of the sweetest kids I ever knew.  It’s no surprise he grew up to be an RCMP officer; we grew up living next door to the Chief of Police.  The reason I know he remembers me is because I messaged Salim, and he contacted Dan, and then he emailed me.  Thanks Salim!

So yeah, small world.

In other news, The Reader is a harrowing movie, (either because of the subject matter or because it has some of the longest pauses ever outside of a film adaptation of Pinter) but you get to see David Kross naked (and he’s cute) and you get to see lots and lots of Kate Winslet naked.  Yeah. I remember saying, “She breastfed her kids!” (She has two).

I know nothing about modern music

Jeff and I recently listened to Pet Sounds.  There were a lot of things I didn’t know about the album (I had previously heard it at 15 in my girlfriend Liz’s bedroom) but I sure as hell knew nothing at all of the existence of this bassist. This one’s for you, Peggy.

Thus the title of the post.  I can’t believe I never heard of this woman; her list of credits is so long and so impressive that it’s just painful.

Jeff, Paul and I watched Glory. Matthew Broderick is magnificent as Shaw.  The supporting cast is superlative.  And it’s another one of the MANY movies Denzel Washington and Morgan Freeman are in (Washington won a best supporting actor for his role).

Ever since Gilgamesh (happy Solstice) (caution, language)

Now this is not your ordinary movie review.  I am not going to address the plot holes in Avatar, two of which you could fly a phalanx of Bell choppers through.  I am not going to praise or damn the movie, as I have previously made it obvious that I liked it.  What I am going to do is re-vision this work in the context of a bilious question that was posed on io9.

When are guilty white people going to stop making movies like Avatar?

Continue reading Ever since Gilgamesh (happy Solstice) (caution, language)

#Avatarbacklash

The intarwebs are buzzing with excoriating reviews of Avatar, and the haters are out in droves.  American conservatives hate it because of the political tenor of the movie, SF fans hate it because it’s like SF before cultural relativity was examined in any kind of critical detail, and film fans hate the … pick one … score (which I liked, sorry, always been a fan of James Horner), script, plot holes (two of which are so immense that they render the action impossible), acting, artwork, and you name it.

I am very glad that my capacity for innocent enjoyment is greater than theirs.  The haters may be telling the truth, but I don’t care.  It may be a half billion dollar mashup of Ferngully meets Dances with Smurfs.  It’s still worth seeing.

The glue

I think my family is glued together with movies. Last night, Jeff and I watched Support Your Local Sheriff for about the nth time, but it was Keith’s first time watching, and I don’t watch movies the same way I used to, so I was impressed.

James Garner makes being effortlessly masculine and a bit of a selfish bastard poetry in motion; Joan Hackett does the smart but ditzy daughter with a verve and authority which is delightful; Jack Elam is flat out brilliant; Bruce Dern as a yob = lucky guy, he got some of the best lines; Walter Brennan as his long-suffering crusty cuss of a father is like a multi-layered parody of himself; all the casting is marvellous.  The script is where it starts though, and William Bowers, also responsible for Advance to the Rear, the remake of My Man Godfrey with David Niven, and the Sheepman, wrote one for the comedy ages.  Highly recommended.

Another movie I watched recently, which I am not going to recommend because it’s a damned strange, disturbing, and not very kind to animals movie, was The Holy Mountain.  I was whipping around somebody’s personal best 100 movie list on the internet and this one got mentioned with such inarticulate adoration (“Just see it.  It’s too hard to describe”) that I had to make Jeff get it from Zip.

I LOVED IT.  I can hardly wait to show it to all my coolest film fan friends, because it is strange and marvellous and disgusting and eye-popping and very memorable.  About an hour in, I thought, “Man, this movie simply cannot get ANY better (this was at the point a six foot ball python showed up… there are A LOT of animals in this movie.)  In another scene a guy gets to take a symbolic (rebirth) bath with a baby hippo; women get their heads shaved; a guy who’s like Jesus shares a joint with a quadruple amputee; one hundred lamb carcasses are paraded around on crucifixes; a man gets hauled up the side of a building in an incredible, bizarre shot; tarot cards are invoked; and the end … well, it predates the end of Monty Python and the Holy Grail by quite a bit, and there’s NO WAY on earth you can convince me that Terry Gilliam didn’t see it before they made Grail.  Anyway, the movie is about spiritual quest(s) and it pauses occasionally to kick militarism, consumerism and religion with glee and hobnailed boots, while mocking itself and occasionally giving hints about how to deconstruct the movie.

Even if you don’t follow the ‘plot’ it is an amazing and very big budget piece of awesome weird, and the visuals completely saturated my ability to take them in.  And I liked the hippy dippy music, so there.  The director says, “I ask from film what most people ask of psychedelic drugs” and the only response to that was/is, “Yes.”

Hello, breakfast

I finished the homily at 8 this morning and went back to bed to warm up.  Then I flew out the door and delivered it.

Just as I stood up to speak, a great blue heron landed on the metal and glass gazebo outside the sanctuary, visible to about a third of the congregation and invisible to me and everyone else.  The way people were pointing and gasping, and the fact I could hear no noise, made me think “A hot air balloon!  How nice.” And then I started talking and got kind of engrossed.  Tom dashed up to me immediately after the service and with a twinkle in his eye told me what had happened.  I had to be home before I figured it out – the heron was using this perch, well out of the way of bothersome hoomins, to case the adjacent pond for koi and other west coast delicacies / breakfast.  There being none, it took off.  See, nothing miraculous or spooky to see here, move along.

Chatted briefly with Patricia the other day, and that was fun. We will fire up the rusty old Cavalcade of Cheese… man she serves good cheese.

Spoke to Catherine today; she confirmed the presence of Sue’s last sock, and once I send her my address she’ll forward it to me.  I don’t want to lose it.  It’s the last thing I have to connect me with Sue Gillespie, of blessed memory.

I’d like to thank Paul for the lift in to both the church and the congregational dinner last night.  In two weeks the church will be closer! I’ll quit bugging people for rides! Beacon is moving to New West!  I talked about that a fair amount in the service today… telling people that we’re doing okay, in fact better than okay, because we can do church on a shoe string.  Did I mention I signed the book again (ie I rejoined)?  I volunteered semi sorta for the Worship Services Committee.  So happily, so cheerfully wacky these days.

I just watched The Man in the White Suit! I loved it!  I am not being sarcastic!

I got a copy of a song that I’ve wanted since the day I heard it.  It’s a live recording (heart heart heart) with Woodhead on bass (heart heart ooo so hearty heart) of Garnet Rogers singing Night Drive, the song he wrote for Stan Rogers, and I thought about John, and cried and cried and cried.  I saw Garnet perform it live.  I cried while I watched it and was still high on emotion when I left the concert.

Another day without beer

I haven’t had any beer in three days.  I think this is the longest I’ve gone without drinking beer for at least three years.  Somehow going to Ontario made me less susceptible to its bubbly siren song.  I certainly have noticed now that I am drinking coffee as an occasional stimulant and  much less beer that my digestion is better than it has been in years.

Last night I cooked roast beef and home made gravy, side of horseradish, potatoes and onions done around the roast, peas and carrots, broccoli and spinach and brussels sprouts, yorkshire pudding (one recipe yields 12 pudding-lets) and others had ice cream for dessert but I skipped that part.  I had a wonderful time preparing it and eating it, and watching Paul, Jeff, Katie and Keith demolish it.  Frankly I think Katie enjoyed it most.  She’s trying to cut sugar out of her diet and her eyes lit up when she saw all the vegetables.  As Catherine said, at this time of year the produce in Canada is quite astonishing.

Today I have many ugly tedious chores to perform, a list of which would likely be more detail than any sane reader could bear.  I hope to squeeze writing down one song in there… I am also hoping to listen to the two albums Dave gave me all the way through.  And more Homicide… we’re close to the end now.  The show ran 7 seasons and it’s been my constant companion for months now.

He should be glad he didn’t find it in France.

And now for something completely different.

Ten reasons I love Val Kilmer.

1.  He once punched out Tom Cruise.  (On the set of Top Gun).

2. Madmartigan in Willow.

3. Jim Morrison in the Doors.

4. Ray Levoi in Thunderheart.

5. Doc Holliday in Tombstone.

6. Heart heart heart Chris Knight in Real Genius.

7. He named his kids something reasonable.  Jack and Mercedes are sane names, in my view.

8. He THOUGHT about running for Governor of New Mexico and decided against it.

9. He helps with wildlife rehabilitation.

10. He’s slept with Joanne Whalley, the lucky dog.

Going to Ontario… but WHEN?

I know that I’m heading for Ontario and I definitely have to be there for Thanksgiving weekend.  However, I am stuck in town until Thursday at the earliest as I have to be a model for Katie for the practical part of her job interview.  So, woo hoo, I’m getting a hair cut and a streak of purple put in my hair.  Or maybe green.

May I recommend for your viewing pleasure The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires?  It’s a Run Run Shaw / Hammer films coproduction from 1974.  It is one of the most hilariously awful films ever made.  It has Peter Cushing as Van Helsing.  Watch it and laugh your ass off.

Apocalypto without subtitles

Jeff, sensing that with Keith and ScaryClown present he could fire up this movie, did so.

We watched without subtitles.

I thought it was an amazing movie.  All I ask of a film is : Take me to a place I haven’t been before.

Mel Gibson is like the Ezra Pound of filmmaking.  He’s an anti-Semite with some babbleworthy ideas, but by Beelzebub’s britches can that man make a film (or in Ezra’s case, write poetry for the ages).