28 September, 2007
one of the most amazingly shot, not to mention moving, scenes ever.
and of course uncas.
i think i just spontaneously erupted into tears.
in the middle of the press room of palazzo chigi.
wish i was watching the whole thing.
up on our home big-screen.
slipping off the red sofa.
near some cheese.
26 September, 2007
if there were any doubts, there is another OMC (Old Married Couple) in Rome.
see above to witness the rather tragic scene i came home to yesterday.
two little tots laid out on bed, looking worse for wear. rather peevish. somewhat forlorn.
so we got to work. they had broth. some meds. we watched a bourne film. laid out on the sofa with a duvet and a sleeping maude. sipped tea. giggled and grunted.
i think taking care of them was one of the hightlights of their trip.
25 September, 2007
twas a touching scene this morning, as a clearly spent lady v embraced a tiny sausage dog close to her chest. maude, i trust, looked after our grand dame from the north. proud and ever-vigilant.
photo courtesy of the marvellous maho
23 September, 2007
7:03 pm. tots arrive in via aldo manuzio. 2 tots. 2 bags
7:05 pm. one tot accompanies local tot to the wine shop
8:15 pm. three bottles of wine consumed
9:30 pm. visit to local dive
11:00pm. royally sloshed
3:04 am. all bets are off. there is a random nigerian with us.
4:10 am tot v about to delve into dangerous BL territory
4:11 am tot a disappears. wink wink. nudge nudge
4:12 am tot f dancing with stripper
6:00 am totter home. swing by local dive. mutter nonsense.
7:00 am two tots swing half a bottle of gin. for the road out
1:03 pm tot a returns. sheepishly. brought cakes
20 September, 2007
it's all true..
I still don’t know what is permanent, permanent.
Maybe all my possessions were precious.
Truth is, all my possessions I somehow lost them.
Been traveling so light,
when we’re floating by it seems nothing and nowhere is golden.
Some say we’re lost in space,
some say we’re falling off the page
Some say our life is insane
but it isn’t insane on paper
Playgrounds are graveyards
and all of our scars are permanent, permanent.
There’s no replacement for places.
I’ll always love you, you’re mine.
Numb is the new high,
all memories die out ‘till nothing and nowhere is golden.
Some say we always only wanna get off,
some say our hands are much too soft.
(nothing and nowhere, emily haines)
euro-asian. what is not to like
hot and talented.
and what a voice.
look out people.
she will be huge.
those that know me, know that i can SNAP.
a censored one-act play
f: am in a worse mood than yesterday. didn't think it was possible
oats: oh SHITT
f: am really about to blow my top pal. you know how i can get when i get the surge of violence in me. i could go off any second.
oats: i know exactly how you can get. which is why i'm afraid.
f: am VERY agitated. had to deal with too much crapp over the past week.
oats: you're going to have a conniption. people are going to get hurt.
the bomb is ticking........ duck for cover
18 September, 2007
but also, incidentally, one of my pals turns xx. (not quite three digits)
here she is. uncommonly upbeat.
moving right along. we decided, for the occasion, to buy a POLAROID, you know, to mark the moment. here is the scrapbook we made.
many "that don't impress me muches"
party on the 26th. a wednesday. wigs a must.
17 September, 2007
from the guardian:
If you want to be truly disturbed, watch out for An American Crime, which makes Hounddog look like Herbie Fully Loaded. This extraordinary account of a series of real events that took place in 1965 in the Indiana home of Gertrude Baniszewski is one of the most frightening films I have seen in a long time. Catherine Keener is astonishing as the deranged single mother of a large brood who takes in her itinerant neighbours' two daughters for some much-needed extra cash and proceeds to torture and eventually destroy the older girl, played by Ellen Page.
American critics, a delicate breed, hated it. And while they were right to question the title (there's nothing particularly American about the crime), to call it an "artistic nullity" as trade mag Variety did is ludicrous. This is bold film-making that strong-arms the viewer into confronting hideous truths that can arise from mental frailty and peer pressure.''
looks like this film, which premiered at Sundance Film Festival, and I've been banging on about for a while isn't getting it's much deserved release. There is talk of a straight-to-DVD. I for one am indignant. Just goes to show you that when it comes to a film being successful or not it's all in the marketing and distribution.
oats rocked back with the best presents ever
from sarah aka muppet:
a FAB T-SHIRT with a CROSS and the writing: got guilt?
emblazoned across the chest.
(full photographic testimony coming up, then again i may never take it off)
from my OMC:
the BUFFY comics mission impossible since they are SOLD OUT)
a fab belt with the texan LONE STAR (yee ha)
am visibly thrilled and may stop working from hence forth.
16 September, 2007
14 September, 2007
things have gone TITS up here in aporto
my colleague and i have had a vinho verte too many...and rather than asking important policy questions about interest rates, euro, subprime, the state of the world, or even world peace...it's all come down to ONE THING:
britney or aguilera?
we've taken it global. central bankers...finance ministers..top advisors...right-hand men to government leaders...so what IS it going to be?
we caught them off-guard i admit..but i have never seen a bunch of middle-aged men with beer guts so excited about something. finally something they could sink their teeth into.
cheers, from portugal
"The cool thing about being famous is traveling. I have always wanted to travel across seas, like to Canada and stuff.” (that's what i'm talking about, cana-duh!)
13 September, 2007
the atlantic is NIPPY
but the sea is too inviting. and the waves are KICKING.
the sea is alive. a living and breathing organ
and i'm about to go TITS DOWN in it
the second i'm done with chasing ministers, central bankers and listening to bad lounge music in anonymous five-star hotels waiting for these porkers to check in.
12 September, 2007
practice makes perfect....
come back to us britney
lay off the frozen margheritas
put some underwear on
hit the gym
let's forget MTV 2007 ever happened. small minor hiccup.
moving right along......
11 September, 2007
to pysche me up for philippines 2007 i got a timely set of photos of lombok 2006. francois, that bloody useless frenchman that i love, took a good year to sort his camera out and find a way to get them off onto a computer. but succeed he did. brings a tear to mine eye. GOOFY!
10 September, 2007
Flavia, cosí si chiama la pargola, avendo pochi peli biondi, viene vestita
in pompa magna e provvista di cuffietta per coprire un antiestetico ematoma
che le allunga la testina. La nonna, sempre attenta alla bella figura, le
volta la testa perché non si veda la parte 'imperfetta' e Flavia, dispettosa
e col suo caratterino giá da allora prontamente si rigira ogbi volta che arriva
09 September, 2007
with the city turned into one big performance art, what better way to finish off at 3am but with two of my top pals. a big fat one. chuckles. and circo massimo lit up by hundreds, no thousands of ever-changing lights. and flashbacks to moving robotic bugs. and acrobats swinging off piazza del popolo.
08 September, 2007
06 September, 2007
no. not a porn.
but a place. a real knockout. in wyoming.
here are snippet's from patty's time in cowboy country (she is a city girl..):
``It was a little freaky to be out in the woods at times. For instance, I could hear COYOTES howling in the middle of the night, just like in the movies. Last night they were especially loud and according to the bellboy two groups were talking to each other. All I know is at times they sounded like they were right outside my cottage door and I was a bit scared. It was also kind of cool, I admit, being a lover of horror movies.
Also there was the bear thing. There are signs posted all over the resort asking you not to feed them and to watch out for them. Watch out for bears!?! TK, the host of the program I produce, says he was walking home late the other night in the pitch blackness, and he SMELLED WET FUR. Now it could have been a moose or an elk, but TK seemed obsessed on this trip with bears and how they are killers. He was totally spooking me. I didn’t see any bears but was told today they had to “put one down” three days ago because he kept going into the campsites and garbage.
TK solemnly said to me, you know they can kill you with one swipe of a paw?
Er yeah, thanks for that TK and can you please walk me back to my room. I will feed you to any grizzly that pops out at us.''
05 September, 2007
il giornale...of all papers..
but they are right on the money...
... Per raccontare e cercare di spiegare la crisi e/o la decadenza del cinema italiano, un aiuto qui da Venezia forse ce lo possono dare l'ombelico, metaforico, di Sabina Guzzanti, intorno al quale ruota il suo Le ragioni dell'aragosta, il senso di assuefazione che traspare da Il dolce e l'amaro di Andrea Porporati.
Entrambi in concorso, sia pure in due differenti sezioni, (quella ufficiale, Venezia 64, per Porporati, «Le giornate degli autori» per la Guzzanti) sarebbe ingeneroso definirli brutti o sbagliati: la recitazione è buona, il primo fa spesso ridere, il secondo fa spesso riflettere, e insomma nell'insieme, al di là di qualche sbavatura, sono prodotti dignitosi intorno ai quali è lecito prevedere un buon successo di pubblico. Il loro difetto è che se ne conosce la fine ancor prima che inizino: sono prevedibili, scontati, senza grazia né mistero. Inutili, in altre parole.
Finora un po' tutta la presenza cinematografica italiana al Festival è stata così, se si esclude Valzer di Salvatore Maira (anch'esso nella sezione «Giornate degli autori»), un piccolo gioiello virtuosistico quanto a sé stante. Per il resto, si trattasse di un giallo fuori concorso nella «Settimana della critica» come La ragazza del lago, o di una seduta di psicanalisi in concorso come Nessuna qualità agli eroi, l'effetto era quello: un dignitoso déjà vu. Prevedibile e quindi inutile.
Se si passa dal particolare al generale, il quadro che ne viene fuori è quello di una cinematografia che non ha più niente da dire in un Paese che non sa più cosa dire. Rimane l'abilità artigianale, la grande tradizione culturale, una scuola di attori, montatori, scenografi, operatori, ma è scomparsa la voglia e la capacità di stupire, l'idea di far parte di un qualcosa di più grande del proprio interesse particolare, l'orgoglio di muoversi all'interno di una storia nazionale lunga e complessa, tortuosa eppure affascinante, da cui affrancarsi o con cui riconciliarsi, ma senza la quale si è condannati a una decadenza senza fine.
Scollatisi dalla realtà del Paese, i nostri registi, i nostri sceneggiatori non lo odiano né lo amano, si muovono al suo interno indifferenti, chi inseguendo il proprio narcisismo, chi la propria giovinezza, chi rifugiandosi nei cliché dell'italianità più classica, chi coltivando il proprio orticello, religioso, familiare, ideologico...
it goes on. but i got depressed after page 1.
well...ok...go on then...here is the rest...(am loving this guy..)
Chi vede nella crisi della nostra cinematografia nient'altro che un riflesso della crisi nazionale, politica, morale, economica, non sembra rendersi conto che è il linguaggio della prima, ovvero la modalità espressiva con cui si manifesta, a essersi inaridito in un'indifferenza cinica e autoreferenziale, in un disprezzo qualunquistico e autoassolvente, in un vittimismo consolatorio. Non c'è grandezza, perché non c'è più coscienza di sé, non c'è più fierezza.
Nel dibattito apertosi nei giorni scorsi sull'identità nazionale, la sua perdita, la difficoltà che si ha nel raccontare per immagini questa realtà e la sua assenza, dibattito che ha visto avvicendarsi, dopo la prima provocazione dello storico Ernesto Galli della Loggia sul Corriere della sera, il giorno stesso dell'apertura della mostra del Cinema, registi come Carlo Lizzani, Piergiorgio Bellocchio, Ermanno Olmi, giornalisti come Eugenio Scalfari e Pierluigi Battista, ciò che forse non è stato sufficientemente messo in luce è che per cercare delle nuove modalità di espressione nei confronti di un soggetto o di un oggetto qualsiasi, per esso si deve avere un interesse, in positivo o in negativo, lo si deve esaltare o lo si deve denigrare, se ne può volere il rafforzamento o la distruzione. Il cinema italiano non racconta l'Italia perché non ci crede più e non gliene importa nulla. Semplicemente. Drammaticamente.
the director of this film, debuting in venice, also penned the screenplay for Vicere'. i for one am excited. trepidant. afraid. hopeful.
eyes peeled on donatella finocchiaro, a fine fine actress that has been compared to anna magnani (ok, yes, comparisons are annoying). a native of sicily.
here is what variety has to say:
Using an almost anthropological approach to the way Mob life can attract and then repel an average Sicilian, "The Sweet and the Bitter" might not bring much new to the anti-Mafia genre, but it's a tightly packaged, well-played, character-driven drama with the bonus of a good sense of humor. That it stars charmer Luigi Lo Cascio is an additional draw, adding complexity and sympathy to the protag without minimizing his petty egotism or brutality. Prospects at home are strong, with assured play at offshore Italo weeks, though major fest awards will be elusive
One of these days Finocchiaro will be given a role similar to her stunning turn in "Angela," but until then, this superb actress continues to bring heart and soul to everything she graces, no matter how small.
03 September, 2007
02 September, 2007
possibly the greatest actress working today
most people outside of brazil know her from central station but little else of her career before and after. for those who were mesmerized, as was i, please check out this
house of sand/casa de areia (2005)
you won't regret it.
The great Brazilian actress Fernanda Montenegro (Central Station) and her gifted daughter Fernanda Torres give superb performances in House of Sand, Andrucha Waddington's extraordinarily beautiful and moving family saga. Spanning nearly 60 years in the lives of three generations of women in the desolate, northern Brazilian desert town of Maranh�o, Waddington's film is a sweeping yet intimate chronicle of life in a harsh, unforgiving landscape that's forever encroaching on the characters, both literally and emotionally. Directed by Waddington with a striking mixture of lyricism and grit, House of Sand is a richly compelling drama anchored by two remarkable actresses, alternating in the roles of the main characters as they age over the years. (reel.com)