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4.23.2004

silent films 

can anyone recommend some good silent films to check out??? me and erin are starting a project revolving around them.

4.22.2004

paul rudd 

i just watched paul rudd on conan o'brien. i've seen him on jon stewart before too. he's always really natural and funny-- totally the opposite of most of those interviews, even when decent people are doing them. so what's up??? why isn't this guy in anything cool (other than clueless)??? he's charming and charismatic. what gives???

is anybody with me on this??? click on the link if you don't know who i'm talking about.

4.20.2004

kill bill, vol. 2 

reading over some of the reviews of kill bill, vol. 2, i have to say my impression is a little different than most of what i skimmed over. having loved vol.1 as only a nerdy kung fu fan can, i was a little disappointed with the second installment, even though-- as a whole-- i think it's a pretty compotent statement from someone who clearly could have glided along on his coattails at this point and got away with it.

one important consistency between both films is the immense affection with which everything is rendered. to accuse tarantino of whipping up a lazy pastiche of geeky genres misses the point, i think. everywhere in both of these films-- in the performances, in the fight scenes, in the music, in the set design-- is a profound respect for the material that inspired them, and when these elements are viewed as a whole, the result retains a sense of the sacred. true, this is a geek boy's sense of the sacred, but didn't we all know that going in??? to go further, one thing that seperates the bills from many similar films is the respect afforded to each of its characters. this is particularly true of vol. 2, where every character, good or evil, ends up seeming strangely admirable. tarantino manages to be decisively one-dimensional in a certain sense-- the films , in the abstract, can be read as pure fluff. and yet, within its superficiality (perhaps even partially as a result of it), each character emerges as multi-dimensional even as they chop heads and spew sub-par philosophical bullshit.

as i posted a bit earlier this month (alongside my reaction to the ethics of the real, of all things), i found the singularity of vol.1 to be strangely effective. many reviews accused it of being tiresome and pointless. but that's part of the deal. kung fu is infinitely tiresome the majority of the time(in a narrative sense), and the emphasis is placed almost entirely on the theatrical mutilation of bodies. if you don't enjoy that, then vol.1 ain't the flick for you. tarantino is always more honest about his sadism than most filmmakers, so the exremities of his limb-hacking and head-chopping seemed fine to me (i think of a quote of john waters' about how saving private ryan could never have exsisted were it not for herschell gordon lewis). furthermore, his sadism is far more popcorn-movie enjoyable than many other "extreme" directors (takashi miike, sam peckinpah), who can occasionally ruin the fun by trying too hard to push your buttons.

the indifference to context gave vol. 1 a strange nobility. thurman's character was all the more engaging due to a kind of emptiness. she appeared unconcerned about anything other than a simple goal, and her merciless conviction made the film unconventional-- and diabolical. the film's structural clarity and movie-nerd megalomania combined to surpass its dependence on the b-flicks of the past. it felt original.

vol. 2 maintains 100% of the affection of vol. 1, even as it does away with much of the violence (which i didn't neccesarily miss, i might add). and when the storyline remains structural, it's effective in the same way that earlier tarantino fare is (the accidental car-shooting of pulp fiction, for example). there's an infintely enjoyable bit revolving around a coffin, which unravels into a fun back-story involving gordon liu (in his second seperate role) as the typical old kung fu master, complete with furry silver eyebrows.

(what follows is a bit of a spoiler, if you care)

but when tarantino decides to add "depth," he falls short. set to sweeping, morricone-ish theme music, "the bride" finally reveals her true reason for leaving bill and her life of intrigue behind. she became a mother. which is perhaps stereotype numero uno in the book of movie patriarchy. it's the old woman-defends-her-child bit. and with it goes all of vol.1's wicked urgency. thurman becomes labeled, and accordingly confined. and it's not just sexist, it's boring. you'd think tarantino'd have internalized enough film theory at this point to avoid such a cliché. but there it is.

now, fortunately, the acting here is so good that nuanced performaces make up for it. and the initial scene where "the bride" discovers her child is still alive is incredibly well staged (as well as a reminder that tarantino can do more than just "action"). but it puts all the philosophizing into a new light. with this declaration of intent (which retains all of the bombast of everything else in the film), the philosophical digressions about superman and "being wise beyond your years" aquire a new weight. and tarantino simply isn't very good with this sort of stuff. he sounds like kevin smith trying to pull of eric rohmer. it's disappointing.

but everything else is pretty great. and the fight between uma and daryl hannah is so fucking bad-ass that the rest of it could have sucked eggs and i still would have liked it. fun, fun stuff.

some records i look forward to re-visiting 

i brought my record player up to the living room from the basement yesterday. my records are weird... about half were formerly my dad's. i never really bought records (or-- for that matter-- understood vinyl-purists, you closet-capitalist snobs!!!). most of the records i've bought were cheap or from thrift stores. i make a lot of mix cd's (and tapes before that), and records always eliminate that option... anyway, here's a few i'm glad to include in my soundtrack to the approaching pleasant weather...

1. the acoustic side of neil young's rust never sleeps. you can't say "aurora borealis" without making me think of neil's "pocahontas," and you can't say "borealis" without making me think of this fine gentleman, who's show (which i can't watch cause of work) is apparently good again.

2. milt jackson, live at the museum of modern art, 1965: sounds like music that would be on sesame street. in a good way. in a way that makes me have a deeper respect for sesame street.

3. bob dylan, blood on the tracks: i haven't really spent enough time with this record, but everyone raves about it so it's getting busted out.

4. my self-titled thelonious monk record: just a basic collection. has "ruby, my dear" and stuff like that. listening to monk is like having a great meal that doesn't leave you too full afterwards, but not hungry either. i asscociate this record with spring.

5. my dad's weird-ass santo and johnny record. great strange music. click on the link and you'll hear their most famous song. i am filled with bewilderment at the thought of my dad buying this, or even wanting this. cool as my parents are, they aren't particularly bo-ho or whatever. in any case, i'm glad something prompted him to pick this one up.

6. charlie haden, liberation music orchestra: weird, perhaps underrated. does anybody know whether or not it's worth it to check out solo carla bley stuff??? i always snoop by her in the record store.

7. the rolling stones, between the buttons: because she smiled sweetly/ and said "don't worry"/ oh no no no

all of this, of course, says nothing of my roommate's far more extensive record collection-- also in the living room-- featuring a 7" by huggy bear that i never had (i think i heard it, though, but maybe not), among other treasures.

4.19.2004

on the subway 

a few posts back, i mentioned how one of my favorite scenes from harmony korine's gummo involves a little girl jumping up and down on a bed, repeating "i wanna moustache, dammit!!"

an incident from the subway the other day can help me explain what is so striking about such a scene...

i sat behind a woman with two rowdy little girls. the girls were pushing and playing and entertaining themselves, until the younger of the two noticed the older one had a piece of gum, and she didn't. the little girl became upset, and began shouting, "mom, i want gum... mom i want gum!!!" over and over. the child's mother playfully covered the girl's mouth to prevent her from shouting, but she kept going. the mother, aware of the child's mischief, decided to play along with her, and began covering and removing her hand from the girl's mouth as she repeated the exclaimation. this produced an effect akin to the familiar childhood memory of talking into an electric fan-- the words chopping up, etc. i assume people other than me and my sisters did that, right???

everyone seemed generally amused, including me.

and what i like about this is that a declaration transforms into an utterance. after several repeats, it was pretty clear that the kid had lost interest in the gum, and was instead enjoying the demand itself. it was one of those pleasant instances where language abandons its logic, and the simple pleasure of noise-making takes its place.

kids are very in tune to this, and i think one of korine's greatest strengths--in gummo as well as julien donkey boy-- is his sensitivity to this noise-making aspect of everyday life. it's a substantial aspect, i would argue, and one often ignored.

**i wonder how this "pleasure of repeated utterance" is working in the recent bush press conference??? does "stay our course," after repeated declarations, trigger some mantra-like neo-con soma??? or is it a zombified battle cry, like the "one of us" of tod browning's freaks????**

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