Finally finished Peter Ackroyd
Author: tedmills
Finally, I have put up
Finally, I have put up a page detailing the protest march last Saturday. Check out the true story of how I walked up State Street surrounded by 5,000 like-minded people. Here’s a taste of some of the protest signs to be found within:
I’d never seen the original
I’d never seen the original Whasaaaaaap film until recently. Okay, maybe I’m out of the loop and everyone’s seen it already, but this pre-Budweiser Ur-text version of the overexposed joke is, in my opinion, the best of them all. More repitition, less product placement.
Film review: Gangs of New York (2002)
Martin Scorsese recreates the birth of New York City in sprawling epic
By D.M. Terrace, Special to the Voice
In Gangs of New York, Martin Scorsese has taken a blood-and-scandal soaked non-fiction book from 1928 and brought much of it to the screen as the backdrop to a quite simple revenge drama. Or is it the other way around? This is a movie so jam-packed with detail and history (some real, some pastiche) that at all moments it threatens to swamp the characters. Most critics so far — Kenneth Turan, especially — have balked at this elephantine film, calling it interminable and obscure. But I quite liked the excess of it. In its portrait of a city, the film captures the density, confusion, and lawlessness therein. As an adaptation of a book that is really one juicy, violent tale after another, it succeeds largely because it has such a simple story as Hollywood wrapping.
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Film Review: Dracula: Pages from a Virgin’s Diary
‘Pages’ mixes ballet, sexuality and bloodsucking
By D.M. Terrace, Special to the Voice
Guy Maddin’s “Dracula: Pages from a Virgin’s Diary” is a curious beast, being a meeting of minds: Maddin’s retro-German Expressionism filming methods and the already offbeat Royal Winnipeg Ballet’s staging of “Dracula.” The ballet is at once respectful of the original novel’s narrative and willing to subvert it for pure movement and expression, focusing on the two women at the center of Bram Stoker’s work: Lucy and Mina.
Guy Maddin has led an extremely cultish career, creating films that seem to come from the golden age of silent cinema, with grainy film, intertitles, variable shutter speeds, broad acting, and pancake makeup with black eyeliner. Sometimes, his striving for effect and replication overwhelms the simpler things like plot and character; other times, all his efforts pay off, such as in “Heart of the World,” the brilliant short he made for the Toronto film festival (and shown two years ago at the SB Film Fest).
To film a ballet, then, doesn’t seem too much of a stretch for Maddin; the stylized movements of the dancers aren’t too far from the strange locomotion that often pops up in his films. And the “big” emotion of ballet is also close to his aesthetic. Strange, then, that Maddin seems not that interested in the dancing — he certainly doesn’t film it like he is, preferring close-ups and tableaux to wide shots.
What comes across after a viewing is that Maddin is very interested in Stoker’s novel itself, and saw the ballet as his chance to film his take on the classic. It’s clear that Maddin favors a reading that explores the strange sexuality of the novel. “Dracula” here becomes a sort of anxiety tale about the deflowering of innocent women, with Lucy taken before her wedding, and the mob-like desire for revenge exerted by her ex-suitors, jealous with rage. Blood, and all that it symbolizes to the female in this society, is most important here: in a black and white film, it’s one of the few things that Maddin colors (tellingly, the other thing is green money).
Best performance belongs to Zhang Wei-Qiang as Dracula. Casting an Asian in the role — the ballet company’s choice, not Maddin’s — works well in bringing out the xenophobia that, like the sexuality, lies barely suppressed below the surface of the tale (Maddin underscores the point with clips from a real anti-immigrant WWII film). Zhang is in the film sparingly, but his presence is felt throughout; he’s sexy, threatening, seductive, and cold, a perfect vampiric combo.
Ballet fans will probably get the least out of Maddin’s film, but anybody else into the strange and wondrous will find deep resonance in this most peculiar cinematic beast.
The U.S. media have all
The U.S. media have all seemed to have quietly looked over the outbursts of Shaq O’Neal, failed rapper, multi-gazillion dollar orange-ball shunter, and now racist slur ejaculator. When a white guy makes a slur about a black guy, it’s a big scandal. When a black guy makes a slur about an Asian it’s…?
It’s Friday, and two of
It’s Friday, and two of my most recent writings have been published. The first is the Valley Voice’s cover story on Harriet Phillips and the Goleta Valley Land Trust. The second is my review of Narc
Enjoy and please send feedback if you’d like!
Man, not only are those
Man, not only are those trading cards brilliant but The Propaganda Remix Project is even more so, with these updated World War II posters. A hit, a very palpable hit. Over 100 posters to choose from; which one will be yours?
How can one make sense
How can one make sense of the War On Terrorism? How about using Kinbote’s American Crusade 2001 Trading Cards? I’m sure you will agree they’re doubleplusgood. They’re all pretty hilarious, and it was hard to pick two, but here, lookee:
Wheee! Trade ’em all!
Le Mans Crash 55
This web reprint of a 1955 Life Magazine article details the death-filled results of the horrific ’55 LeMans Crash. This is the reason they now have barriers between the race cars and the crowd. J.G. Ballard might be interested in the description below.
As the race entered its third hour the cars were breaking records at every lap when Jaguar Driver Mike Hawthorn received a signal from his pit crew to stop for gas. As he braked, an Austin-Healey swerved to avoid him. A few lengths behind, Levegh raised his hand, signaling another Mercedes to slow up. At 150 mph he had no chance to do so himself.
Photo from Wilko’s Healy Page
Hitting the Healey, the Mercedes took off like a rocket, struck the embankment beside the track, hurtled end over end and then disintegrated over the crowd. The hood decapitated tightly jammed spectators like a guillotine. The engine and front axle cut a swath like an artillery barrage. And the car’s magnesium body burst into flames like a torch, burning others to death. In a few searing seconds 82 people were dead and 76 were maimed. Hawthorn, though unnerved, went on to win and set a new record. But few spectators had the enthusiasm to cheer.
Linked from Meme Pool