Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Elad's in town...
So Elad is in town and I've found cause to snap a few photos of places I've been... so here they are... it's good having a reason to be out of my hovel... a break from my hermit like living style of the last few months...
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Beware the Ides of March
And if only our friend Julius had listened, who knows what he might've accomplished with a longer lease on life. As some know, and maybe some don't, today is the MML anniversary of Julius Caesar's death... happy death day JC!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
7 Plays in 7 Days
[Because of Suzan Lori-Parks]
7 Plays in 7 Days
by Len Shneyder
Wednesday 3.07.07
BEYOND
Silver Surfer – Cosmic Entity and Super Hero
The Beyonder – Cosmic Entity and Opportunist
(The stage is dark, very dark, the only light comes from above in the form of constellations. The floor of the stage reflects the constellations as if the entire stage has become the night sky, or the cosmos as it might be carried in some galactic being’s pocket. Silver Surfer and Beyonder enter from opposite sides of the stage at the same time. They walk very slowly. Each appears to be roughly in his mid 20’s. Silver Surfer, not surprisingly carries a silver surfboard. The Beyonder is dressed very poorly like a Floridian tourist in Havana during the 1940s complete with calf high black socks, shorts, a tasteless Hawaiian shirt and carries a pina colada in his left hand and is smoking a big fat Romeo & Julieta cigar in his right. They approach one another, slowly. Silver Surfer is walking slowly, with comic book like drama. The Beyonder doesn’t seem to care and is looking about him as if he’s lost something unimportant like an ash tray.)
SILVER SURFER
Insofar as origins…
BEYONDER
During the creation of space something was misnamed and called emptiness.
SILVER SURFER
Insofar as multipliers…
BEYONDER
It’s dangerous to be one’s own accomplice.
SILVER SURFER
Insofar as danger…
BEYONDER
While creation was defined something was left unnamed and this too was called intrinsic.
Silver Surfer
Insofar as…
BEYONDER
Look, I don’t mind, it’s a stretch but I don’t mind.
SILVER SURFER
Insofar…
BEYONDER
(Throws his drink in SILVER SURFER’S face.)
Let’s not go down this road.
END
Thursday 3.08.07
CHESS
Setting: Hell
Emperor Hirohito (In full Samurai regalia)
Harry S. Truman (in a sear sucker with straw hat)
Franklin D. Roosevelt (Wearing a tutu)
A host of men and women dressed as chess pieces, white behind Hirohito, black behind Truman.
(The two historical figures are sitting across from each other, table is covered in ornate Saki glasses and bad Canadian Whiskey. They’ve been drinking since the 60’s and there’s no letting up. Neither one of them is drunk and they both have to piss constantly, but there isn’t a urinal in sight for at least 4 levels of hell. The floor is a collection of 40+ years of broken saki glasses, cigarette buts, confetti, old newspapers, every issue of playboy ever published, the entire score to The Ring week bladders before the invention of depends. After the delivery of the 1st line they get up and take 3 steps to the right of their chairs, any chess piece can sit down and continue speaking for them, even though they are silent, the audience still knows that it's Hirohito and Truman's lines. The audience knows this as they’re telepathically connected inside of Hirohito and Truman’s minds. The whole time, in the back, Roosevelt is dancing to Gershwin, badly but without crutches.)
HIROHITO
We knew it was going to happen.
HARRY S. TRUMAN
We knew it too.
HIROHITO
You wanted it to happen!
HARRY S. TRUMAN
No more than you.
HIROHITO
See what you’ve done?!
HARRY S. TRUMAN
Much of what’s been done is you
HIROHITO
The issue isn’t me, it’s you
HARRY S. TRUMAN
HIROHITO
HARRY S. TRUMAN
I couldn’t agree more.
HIROHITO
Then you agree it’s your fault.
HARRY S. TRUMAN
No more than yours.
HIROHITO
These denials are useless!
HARRY S. TRUMAN
As are the accusations.
HIROHITO
We didn’t start this.
HARRY S. TRUMAN
Your denial is accusatory.
HIROHITO
But I’ve said it wasn’t us!
HARRY S. TRUMAN
Your responsibility is absent
HIROHITO
This is going nowhere!
HARRY S. TRUMAN
You’ve said nothing new.
END
Friday 3.09.07
SHAVING
He – male bearded
She – Female waxed
(A couple is lying in bed, they just finished having sex. There’s an ashtray between them and HE is smoking. It’s summer and the windows are open. The heat makes the smoke linger and dangle like so many lines of lazy ocean waves in the air. She is slightly annoyed to be swimming in a sea of Phillip Morris and is visibly shortening her post coital bliss.)
SHE
Mmmmmm.
HE
Yeah
SHE
So you think you could-
HE
What?
SHE
Shave?
HE
Why?
SHE
Maybe I’d like to kiss you.
HE
So kiss me.
SHE
Maybe I’d like to kiss you without the beard.
HE
Nah, I don’t think so.
SHE
Listen, last week you said you wanted to role play.
HE
So.
SHE
So I went out and waxed my twat so I could be your cheerleader.
HE
And?
SHE
Well maybe I’d like you to be my little boy. And for a moment let’s pretend it all grew back in and I can be an older woman.
HE
I’m not into that.
SHE
WHAT?!
HE
Yeah, doesn’t appeal.
SHE
How about some give and take here.
HE
I did, I gave you the money to get waxed, what more do you want?
SHE
A little compromise would be nice.
HE
It’s too dangerous.
SHE
You’re joking right? Compromise? Dangerous?!
HE
Well think about it, we’d have one crack at it, and then…
SHE
Then what?!
HE
Stubble: I need the beard.
SHE
What does stubble have to do with anything?
HE
If you could grow a beard you’d understand.
SHE
Understand you’re afraid of compromise?
HE
No, what it’s like to kiss your dad. The beard’s Switzerland, and you’re Lolita where you need to be.
END
Saturday 3.10.07
Moving Day
Jake – Early 20s
Molly – Mid 20s
Karen – Mid 20s
Bill – Mid 20s
Dealer – Mid 40s
20 or 30 random people dressed like bums
(There’s the latter half of a UHaul protruding from the left side of the stage filled with boxes. Jake is standing is leaning against the side of the truck. Molly Karen and Bill are very slowly taking a box and from the truck at random intervals, walking across the stage and placing them somewhere in the wings. There’s a Signpost behind and above the truck which reads HAIGHT ST, the cross st. isn’t visible.)
DEALER
Buds, buds, green buds…
JAKE
Yo, how much?
DEALER
Twenty a gram.
JAKE
Le’me see.
DEALER
(hands JAKE a sack)
Sure.
JAKE
This ain’t worth no 20!
DEALER
How much you want to give me for it?
JAKE
I’ll give you five.
DEALER
(ponders)
Ok, deal.
JAKE
(Rolls one on the spot after DEALER leaves and begins to smoke.)
Who said this was a fucked up neighborhood? Don’t look too bad to me, I mean shit, what a deal?! A twomp for a nickel! Moving security my ass… “Jake go watch the truck, Jake, don’t let the truck out of your sight. Jake. Jake. Jake.”
(As he enjoys his cannabis, a host of bums sneak around from behind the truck and begin to empty it of boxes passing them down a line every time the characters are off stage and placing boxes in the wings.)
END
Sunday 3.11.07
Giving Up The Ghost
Man – Mid 50’s
(A man dressed in his mid 50’s is wearing white. The entire stage is white and bathed in cool white light. The surfaces are all painted white, but a flat white so there’s no glare anywhere. He begins by lying on the ground in the middle of the stage, sleeping on a white pillow with a white thin sheet. He wakes slowly and sits up. He takes a long look around rubbing his eyes. The sheet begins to lift off him, seemingly of it’s own volition. He doesn’t notice it at first. Soon he has a puzzled look on his face as he comes to the realization that he is not in his bed. As the sheet lifts further off him he sees a projection of his ghostly self in the sheet. Shocked he reaches for the sheet and catches a corner and begins to struggle with it. He forces the sheet into his pajama pockets, down his pajama pants, he tries tying it around his wrist, anything not to let the sheet get away from him, which is moving this way and that, up stage, down stage, house right house left, off stage, back onto the stage, higher lower. This continues until the man reaches complete exhaustion and collapses dead, on stage.)
END
Monday 3.11.07
The Episode Of The Cosa Nostra’s Tiramisu
Diego – Early 20’s Venezuelan born in the states.
Carter – Early 20’s suburbanite
Old Man – mid to late 60s with giant hands made of leather.
(There’s the façade of a café and tables and chairs on the stage. It’s night time, the café is open and filled with silhouettes insides. The tables outside are empty, or full. Carter and Diego are on the corner of the stage, looking over their shoulders and smoking a pipe. Once they’re done they move toward the tables. Carter sits down and Diego goes inside.)
CARTER
What took you s long?
DIEGO
(Walks out with 2 cappuccinos)
Huh? What?
CARTER
Huh, what? I said what took you so long…
DIEGO
(Walks back in)
Oh, um, there’s more.
CARTER
(Calling after him)
What more?
DIEGO
(Coming back out with a large Tiramisu)
See.
CARTER
See what?! Where’d you get the money? We only had enough for the Caps.
DIEGO
Money? oh, um, we didn’t pay.
CARTER
What do you mean we didn’t pay? Did you offer to pay?
DIEGO
Um, yeah, I did, but he wouldn’t take my money.
CARTER
What do you mean he wouldn’t take your money?
DIEGO
He just wouldn’t take it.
CARTER
Oh I see, did he think you were cute?
DIEGO
No it wasn’t like that, he’s old.
CARTER
Who’s old?
DIEGO
The Barista.
CARTER
So an old man could’ve thought you were cute. You get hit on by men all the time.
DIEGO
It wasn’t like that.
CARTER
So what was it like oh stoned one? Did you just take the cake and walk out assuming it was Plymouth rock?
DIEGO
Dude, I handed him money, he said no, shook his head, well he didn’t say no, he just shook his head. He reaches into his pocket and takes out a fat wad of bills and puts a 10 in the drawer.
CARTER
How fat?
DIEGO
Scary fat.
CARTER
Ok, so then what?
DIEGO
He hands me the Tiramisu and smiled, but I couldn’t carry it cause I had the cappuccinos so I left it and came back to get it.
CARTER
It doesn’t make any sense.
DIEGO
I know.
(At that moment the old man walks out of the café door, saunters up to them. He’s wearing a short sleeve short, old man polyester pants but has a heavy gold ring on his finger, a heavy gold chain and matching bracelet. He comes up to them with two spoons, shakes each of their hands and saunters off stage while he dawns a Fedora. As he’s walking away the theme to the godfather begins to play.)
CARTER
Wonder what’s gonna happen now.
(Gunshots ring out, fade to black)
END
Tuesday 3.12.07
AGENT ORANGE
Two Allen Ginsberg impersonators in their early 70s
(The two impersonators, complete with glasses, wearing suits with orange ties and carrying a small daisy walk down the aisles of the theatre through the audience and mount the stage from either side. On the stage are two podiums that are lit from above with a single spot. One podium is yellow, the other podium is red. Either Ginsberg can begin reading. The poem is a modified [lifted] version of Ginsberg’s poem “Who Bomb”. The reading goes in a round and then eventually they start randomly spitting lines without any formal meter or circular rhythm. This goes on while the house lights, which should be down when this starts, slowly start going up and turning to orange until the entire house is bathed in a bright, agent, orange. At this point, and with both speakers slowly loosing their voice, the temperature of the house is raised until it becomes uncomfortable, not terribly hot, just uncomfortable. This continues, degree by degree until the Ginsbergs begin to undress one article of clothing at a time. This continues until the audience leaves and or collapses from heat exhaustion. The Ginsbergs eventually pass out and die on stage from heat induced strokes. The lines are to be repeated as many times as necessary for desired audience and actor effects to happen, or until someone spontaneously combusts.)
GINSBERG 1
People roast!
History toast!
People roast!
History toast!
People roast!
History toast!
He say carry a gun!
Sacrifice is fun!
He say carry a gun!
Sacrifice is fun!
He say carry a gun!
Sacrifice is fun!
He say carry a gun!
Sacrifice is fun!
He say carry a gun!
Sacrifice is fun!
Burnt to the floor!
Let’s even the score!
Burnt to the floor!
Let’s even the score!
Burnt to the floor!
Let’s even the score!
Burnt to the floor!
Let’s even the score!
GINSBERG 2
How did they burn?
Why did they burn?
How did they burn?
Why did they burn?
How did they burn?
Why did they burn?
How was it done?
Why was it done?
How was it done?
Why was it done?
How was it done?
Where was it done?
Who made a buck?
Where was it done?
Who made a buck?
Where was it done?
Who was it for?
Where did it start?
Who was it for?
Where did it start?
Who was it for?
Where did it start?
Who was it for?
Where did it start?
Monday, March 12, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Thursday, March 08, 2007
300
It's coming, tomorrow... and the speculation and reviews are flooding in. The film made the A-list on Rotten Tomatoes, 60%, hoping this will climb. Just today, on NPR, heard a discussion how folks are already saying that this film is a metaphor for the invasion of Ira(qn). The Iranian community is up in arms as the Persians are the bad guys, the feminists are on the rampage proclaiming its a hyperviolent display of machismo and testosterone... alright... I can't bloody wait! Leonidus = Lion Leonid = Look of the line... my beard is scruffy.
The alarm bell
I don't mean to sound the fire alarm to get out of class, cry wolf or raise the siren two say two if by land or one if by sea, but we had another one yesterday and I do think, looking back on it now, that I might've felt it. You have to understand my building is old, the passing 5 bus rattles it something fierce at times... and I've come to know that vibration quite well... here, look for yourself...
so I'm not crazy, but I am becoming paranoid... now's a good time to cash in those frequent flier miles.
so I'm not crazy, but I am becoming paranoid... now's a good time to cash in those frequent flier miles.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
The Chronicles of Telecommuting: III
My advice for anyone attempting to work from home is to get to know your iTunes, intimately. Maybe get to know is the wrong word, as surely you know your music library, but I gaurantee you there are bits and pieces of that library that will surprise even you. I've taken to creating folders for music that I like as I listen to it... so far there are only two: sad songs and electronica. Both folders will eventually be compilations once they've accumulated enough odds and ends. A word of caution: DO NOT SURF AMAZON AT HOME!!! If you thought that Amazon was a nice distraction while you waste your day at the office, well kiddies, at home, its down right dangerous. As a matter of fact, set it up as an untrusted site, disable your one-click, block in a host file or at the router. Just don't do it, seriously. Sure, you may think that you have to have those 10 new CDs as every single piece of music in your 80 gig baracuda hard drive is totally old, boring and been played a million times, but honestly, is that the case? Have a come-to-jesus moment with your iTunes library and say to yourself, yes, this is good, and make it so. And then order from CD Baby instead!!!
Noteworthy picks from the library for today:
Chicago Sound Track - Cell Block Tango - just a fantastic piece of musical writing...
My Elastic Eye - Chemical Brothers - kinda spooky, like robert plant with a 303
Vibratonik - Moodswings - oddly haunting
My Drug Buddy - Evan Dando & Juliana Hatfield - bloody good songwriting!
Noteworthy picks from the library for today:
Chicago Sound Track - Cell Block Tango - just a fantastic piece of musical writing...
My Elastic Eye - Chemical Brothers - kinda spooky, like robert plant with a 303
Vibratonik - Moodswings - oddly haunting
My Drug Buddy - Evan Dando & Juliana Hatfield - bloody good songwriting!
A snippet from the NY Times
This appeared in an article on media post, and fankly, I'm not sure how I feel about this... on the one hand what Google is doing isn't so different from say one's ability to open a book at a bookstore and read a few pages. I think the central question that needs to be asked is: how many people would or do actually read an entire book online?
Microsoft Attacks Google's Copyright Policy
The New York Times
Microsoft Corp. Tuesday launched a major offensive against Google, its closest rival in the Internet business, according to Reuters, saying the search giant takes an arrogant and possibly illegal approach to copyright protection. In a series of remarks, Thomas Rubin, Microsoft's associate general counsel, told the Association of American Publishers that Google's move into new media had essentially come at the expense of book, video and software publishers. "Google takes the position that everything may be freely copied unless the copyright owner notifies Google and tells it to stop," Rubin said, adding that his client Microsoft asks copyright owners for permission first.
"In essence, Google is saying to you and to other copyright owners: 'Trust us, we'll only show snippets (of copyrighted text), we won't harm you, we'll promote you,' " he added.
Indeed, Google is holding publishers hostage by taking control of their copyrights; the question for the court to decide is whether Google is allowed to copy, display and profit from pieces of copyrighted content (as it does with Google News) without consent as long as it doesn't profit outright from the whole. The AAP will welcome Rubin's comments, especially as the organization sits on a 16-month copyright lawsuit it filed against Google for digitizing copyrighted book content without gaining prior consent.
Microsoft Attacks Google's Copyright Policy
The New York Times
Microsoft Corp. Tuesday launched a major offensive against Google, its closest rival in the Internet business, according to Reuters, saying the search giant takes an arrogant and possibly illegal approach to copyright protection. In a series of remarks, Thomas Rubin, Microsoft's associate general counsel, told the Association of American Publishers that Google's move into new media had essentially come at the expense of book, video and software publishers. "Google takes the position that everything may be freely copied unless the copyright owner notifies Google and tells it to stop," Rubin said, adding that his client Microsoft asks copyright owners for permission first.
"In essence, Google is saying to you and to other copyright owners: 'Trust us, we'll only show snippets (of copyrighted text), we won't harm you, we'll promote you,' " he added.
Indeed, Google is holding publishers hostage by taking control of their copyrights; the question for the court to decide is whether Google is allowed to copy, display and profit from pieces of copyrighted content (as it does with Google News) without consent as long as it doesn't profit outright from the whole. The AAP will welcome Rubin's comments, especially as the organization sits on a 16-month copyright lawsuit it filed against Google for digitizing copyrighted book content without gaining prior consent.
The chronicles of telecommuting: II
Everything that goes up must come down. This isn't meant to be cryptic or some kind of apochrypha, it's just that when you're working alone from home you notice that the balance of the universe is absolute, totalitarian even. I've learned a thing or two since my stint in the casa. Maybe learned is the wrong word to employ here, I've observed, yeah, that's much better, I'm an observer here in my Captain Kirk chair, swivelling around the digital universe.
First thing's first, my place is small, so this limits observations. However, since I started this gig there's been 1 fire, 1 earthquake and several stops by the UPS man.
Working from home allows one to save money, naturally, we all knew this. The savings, however, aren't always readily apparent. In order to document this, I'm going to employ a two column system that's in line with the spirit of double entry book keeping. What exactly this means, double entry book keeping, I've no clue, I dropped out of accounting 101 as a freshman in college because it made my brain hurt and I've no clue to this day how to balance my check book. Since I'm in the majority of individuals out there afflicted by accountitis, I don't feel quite so bad. To that end, credits bad, debits good:
cigarettes are expensive | major savings on petrol
fine delicacies get pricey| the decision tree is more "precise"
have to heat the house more | major savings on laundry, come on you would wear the same jeans four days in a row too as long as the odor didn't choke you!
missing my jalapeno bagels for breakfast | money spent on coffee in the morning went waaay down as I make it at home
I spend money riding the bus to school, which is great as its an automatic half hour more that I can read every day | personal hygien products (yes, I still brush my teeth everyday for you smart asses out there! but I shave even less than I did before, and deoderant, well see the note about choking yourself)
spending more money on printer ink and paper | lunch doesn't quite bite me in the pocket book the way it used to, but I do miss Himawari
I'm sure I'll come up with other costs and savings in this here telecommuting world. It's been mostly good so far, but I do feel like I'm becoming a bit of a shut in. I simply don't leave as much as I should when the day is done. I've become better at closing the laptop; there's a definite danger of becoming a work a holic when you mix your work space and your place space, but I've found otherways of enjoying my digital corner: working on photographs. I've left one of my tripods near the door, fully extended, so that at any moment I can walk up the stairs to the roof of the building and photograph the sunset. One of these days, when I get up early enough, I'll do the sunrise, in the mean time it'll have to be just sunsets.
So for now, back to work.... and adieu...
First thing's first, my place is small, so this limits observations. However, since I started this gig there's been 1 fire, 1 earthquake and several stops by the UPS man.
Working from home allows one to save money, naturally, we all knew this. The savings, however, aren't always readily apparent. In order to document this, I'm going to employ a two column system that's in line with the spirit of double entry book keeping. What exactly this means, double entry book keeping, I've no clue, I dropped out of accounting 101 as a freshman in college because it made my brain hurt and I've no clue to this day how to balance my check book. Since I'm in the majority of individuals out there afflicted by accountitis, I don't feel quite so bad. To that end, credits bad, debits good:
cigarettes are expensive | major savings on petrol
fine delicacies get pricey| the decision tree is more "precise"
have to heat the house more | major savings on laundry, come on you would wear the same jeans four days in a row too as long as the odor didn't choke you!
missing my jalapeno bagels for breakfast | money spent on coffee in the morning went waaay down as I make it at home
I spend money riding the bus to school, which is great as its an automatic half hour more that I can read every day | personal hygien products (yes, I still brush my teeth everyday for you smart asses out there! but I shave even less than I did before, and deoderant, well see the note about choking yourself)
spending more money on printer ink and paper | lunch doesn't quite bite me in the pocket book the way it used to, but I do miss Himawari
I'm sure I'll come up with other costs and savings in this here telecommuting world. It's been mostly good so far, but I do feel like I'm becoming a bit of a shut in. I simply don't leave as much as I should when the day is done. I've become better at closing the laptop; there's a definite danger of becoming a work a holic when you mix your work space and your place space, but I've found otherways of enjoying my digital corner: working on photographs. I've left one of my tripods near the door, fully extended, so that at any moment I can walk up the stairs to the roof of the building and photograph the sunset. One of these days, when I get up early enough, I'll do the sunrise, in the mean time it'll have to be just sunsets.
So for now, back to work.... and adieu...
Monday, March 05, 2007
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Why not?
Why doesn't Hollywood trust the audience? Do they think their pockets will be lightened if they don't give us exactly what we're after? I've had a magical weekend; as all things cinematic, genres come on in waves. No sooner is there one film about an end of the world by meteor disaster than an entire crop of disasterous pictures about the end of the world show up like so many heads of the same ill imagined hydra.
Well the recent spate of films focused on turn of the century prestidigitators is not without charm, or problems. I'm too tired to write a lengthy review to be quite honest. I'm sure I've a ramble or two about how both films, The Illusionist and The Prestige go awry, miss the mark, etc. etc. The latter is simple, it's too bloody predictable. As for the first, it too is as predictable, unfortunatley it dissapoints to a greater degree because of that. Although Biel is captivating on the screen, and the occasional use of vignetting makes the entire presentation of Norton and his faux Austrian accent from God knows where, go over wonderfully, like a fine cup of Vienniese coffee, it's the fact that Giamati is fantastic as the detective and this is more his story than the Romeo and Juliet inspired romance. How brave would it have been to let the story truly be about a man coming to terms with his aspirations and the level of corruption to which he will have to sink in order to achieve them? How difficult is it for a director or a screen writer to end a film more like the English Patient or War of the Roses than a mamet script so full of twists and turns that even the best and most inspired sleuth just can't quite connect all the dots.
Well cross your T's and dot your I's if you must Hollywood, I don't even know how faithful the film was to the short story on which it was based, so in that I'm completely wrong in everything I say, as I haven't done my homework, but it just seems like there was another story really worth telling, and the actor chosen to play the role could've delivered if he was only given the chance. That above all makes me upset about this one. And if I haven't mentioned it, it's a rather lovely little film, and i say lovely because it is small in both ambition and scope, and wonderfully predictive in both if not for the fantastic performances. As for The Prestige... well... it's just a twisting little journey... it seems that the mode of presentation is a matter of the subject being presented: illusory. We are meant to be folled into believe that the story has a measure of importance? No, that's too grandiose, maybe we're just supposed to be entertained, in that, well it mostly succeeds, but it becomes so bloody preposterous that you cease to care about the characters, the drama, the conflict or the story. Ach vell, nobel efforts I suppose.
In some random searches about characters and history I stumbled upon this photo of Mark Twain in Tesla's laboratory... I found it intruiging. David Bowie makes a good Tesla...
Well the recent spate of films focused on turn of the century prestidigitators is not without charm, or problems. I'm too tired to write a lengthy review to be quite honest. I'm sure I've a ramble or two about how both films, The Illusionist and The Prestige go awry, miss the mark, etc. etc. The latter is simple, it's too bloody predictable. As for the first, it too is as predictable, unfortunatley it dissapoints to a greater degree because of that. Although Biel is captivating on the screen, and the occasional use of vignetting makes the entire presentation of Norton and his faux Austrian accent from God knows where, go over wonderfully, like a fine cup of Vienniese coffee, it's the fact that Giamati is fantastic as the detective and this is more his story than the Romeo and Juliet inspired romance. How brave would it have been to let the story truly be about a man coming to terms with his aspirations and the level of corruption to which he will have to sink in order to achieve them? How difficult is it for a director or a screen writer to end a film more like the English Patient or War of the Roses than a mamet script so full of twists and turns that even the best and most inspired sleuth just can't quite connect all the dots.
Well cross your T's and dot your I's if you must Hollywood, I don't even know how faithful the film was to the short story on which it was based, so in that I'm completely wrong in everything I say, as I haven't done my homework, but it just seems like there was another story really worth telling, and the actor chosen to play the role could've delivered if he was only given the chance. That above all makes me upset about this one. And if I haven't mentioned it, it's a rather lovely little film, and i say lovely because it is small in both ambition and scope, and wonderfully predictive in both if not for the fantastic performances. As for The Prestige... well... it's just a twisting little journey... it seems that the mode of presentation is a matter of the subject being presented: illusory. We are meant to be folled into believe that the story has a measure of importance? No, that's too grandiose, maybe we're just supposed to be entertained, in that, well it mostly succeeds, but it becomes so bloody preposterous that you cease to care about the characters, the drama, the conflict or the story. Ach vell, nobel efforts I suppose.
In some random searches about characters and history I stumbled upon this photo of Mark Twain in Tesla's laboratory... I found it intruiging. David Bowie makes a good Tesla...
Friday, March 02, 2007
Last night's earthquakes, did you feel them?
I did. Lovely 4.2 rattled the house around 8:30 at night pst. We were watching "The Prestige", an ok film, not superb by any stretch of the imagination, but truly lovely in its presentation. Also, if you don't know it, David Bowie is in the film, as Nikola Tesla, I kept thinking he was oddly familiar for one reason or another... anyway... I'm digressing, this would make the 4th earthquake in less than that number of months. The first three were in Berkeley, 2 magnitude 3 somethings and then last week a 2 something... and now last night, in the same fault activity area, we hit the mark of 4.2, with aftershocks in the sub 2 range... oy yes ladies and gentlemen... something is afoot, damn I hope I'm wrong...
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