Where the Stress Falls

In the Meme-Time

There's a Flickr meme that's been going around; I first saw it at Eternal Sunshine of the Logical Mind and thought I'd give it a try. Here are the rules:

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr search.
2. Using only the first page, pick an image.
3. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker.

For three of the images, I cheated a bit by ranking the search results by "Most Interesting". But I never went beyond the first page. In the image below, the corresponding photos read from left to right for each row.

1. What is your first name? Michael
2. What is your favorite food? Italian
3. What high school did you go to? Rowland High
4. What is your favorite color? Blue
5. Who is your celebrity crush? Liela Moss
6. Favorite drink? Coke
7. Dream vacation? Backpacking through Europe
8. Favorite dessert? Root-beer float
9. What do you want to be when you grow up? World traveler
10. What do you love most in life? A good night's sleep
11. One word to describe you: Nerd
12. Your Flickr nickname: I don't have one ... yet

See it large.

To give credit where it's due, here are links to the original photos:

1. Michael in the morning light, 2. Arriving at the Italian Riviera, 3. WEST END, 4. Berlin blues, 5. Liela Moss, 6. coke.jpg, 7. Cologne, Germany, 8. Float it, 9. Going nowhere, 10. Saluting Icy Days, 11. Spirit Warrior 3, 12. Only 4 More Days to Pass Your Way Every Day

I'll return soon with new posts. Have a good week, all.

Pop Quiz

It's summer, I don't feel like working, and I'm in the mood to talk movies, so I figure why not take part in Dennis Cozzalio's end-of-the-summer movie quiz?  I often read Dennis' quizzes, but this is the first one I've taken.  Here goes:

1. Your favorite musical moment in a movie.

The scene in Jacques Audiard's The Beat That My Heart Skipped when Romain Duris drives through Paris at night while listening to The Kills' "Monkey 23".

2. Ray Milland or Dana Andrews.

Milland.

3. Favorite Sidney Lumet movie.

Dog Day Afternoon.

4. Biggest surprise of the just-past summer movie season.

How I wish I could answer this, but I spent most of my summer locked in a classroom and not in movie theaters.

5. Gene Tierney or Rita Hayworth.

This a tough one, but I'd have to go with Hayworth.

6. What's the last movie you saw on DVD? In theaters?

The last film I saw on DVD was Arnaud Desplechin's Kings and Queen, which I found remarkable, particularly in terms of its methods. The last film I saw in theaters was Chris Carter's The X-Files: I Want to Believe.  I wanted to believe too, but the film made this difficult.

7. Irwin Allen's finest hour?

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea, which I liked a lot as a kid.

8. What were the films where you would rather see the movie promised by the poster than the one that was actually made?

Virtually everything George Lucas has made.

9. Chow Yun-Fat or Tony Leung.

Leung, because he's the better actor.

10. Most pretentious movie ever.

Difficult to say. As much as I like it, perhaps Anthony Minghella's The English Patient, which received a great send-up in a classic Seinfeld episode.  Elaine (talking at the screen): "Stop telling your stupid story about the stupid desert and just die already! Die!" Peterman: "Elaine, do you not like this movie?"  Elaine: "I hate it! It's so long." (The audience then shushes her.) "Oh go to hell!"  Peterman: "You're fired."  Elaine: "Great. I'll wait for you outside."

11. Favorite Russ Meyer movie.

I've yet to see one.

12. Name the movie that best reflects yourself, a movie you'd recommend to an acquaintance that most accurately says, "this is me."

Godard's Breathless.

13. Marlene Dietrich or Greta Garbo.

Another tough choice. At an earlier point in my life I would have said Dietrich, but now it's Garbo.

14. Best movie snack? Most vile movie snack?

Best: popcorn. Most vile: after about ten minutes of eating it, popcorn.

15. Current movie star who would be most comfortable in the classic Hollywood studio system.

Among bona fide stars, George Clooney. Among others, Randy Quaid.

16. Fitzcarraldo -- yes or no?

Yes. C'mon, it's Herzog.

17. Your assignment is to book the ultimate triple bill to inaugurate your own revival theater. What three movies will we see on opening night?

I think this is the toughest question on the quiz. At the moment, I'd select Josef von Sternberg's The Blue Angel, Godard's Breathless, and George Miller's Mad Max. They are, in one way or another, partly about the surface texture -- the very visualness -- of film.

18. What's the name of your theater?

The Good, the Bad, and the Unseen.

19. Favorite Leo McCary movie.

I've only seen The Bells of St. Mary's, so I can't select a favorite.

20. Most impressive debut performance by an actor/actress.

Emmanuelle Riva in Alain Resnais' Hiroshima mon amour.

21. Biggest disappointment of the just-past summer movie season.

That films about superheroes still draw the largest crowds.

22. Michelle Yeoh or Maggie Cheung.

Cheung. See Irma Vep and you'll know why.

23. 2008 inductee into the Academy of the Overrated.

Judd Apatow.

24. 2008 inductee into the Academy of the Underrated.

Jonathan Glazer.

25. Fritz the Cat -- yes or no?

Haven't seen it, so ... maybe?

26. Trevor Howard or Richard Todd.

Howard.

27. Antonioni once said, "I began taking liberties a long time ago; now it is standard practice for most directors to ignore the rules." What filmmaker working today most fruitfully ignores the rules? What does ignoring the rules of cinema mean in 2008?

Hou Hsiao-hsien, Tsai Ming-liang, or Lucrecia Martel because they can all be wonderfully anti-classical. I think that ignoring the rules of cinema, even now, means partly this, but also such things as confounding audience expectations, fulfilling personalized visions, and continually trying to alter the visual language of cinema.

28. Favorite William Castle movie.

I've yet to see one, but House on Haunted Hill is on my to-see list.

29. Favorite ethnographically oriented movie.

George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead. It's not just about zombies.

30. What's the movie coming up in 2008 you're most looking forward to? Why?

Lucrecia Martel's La mujer sin cabeza, mainly because Martel is more or less my favorite contemporary filmmaker.

31. What deceased director would you want to resurrect in order that he/she might make one more film?

Louis Malle.

32. What director would you like to see, if not literally entombed, then at least go silent creatively?

McG.

33. Your first movie star crush.

Karen Allen in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

The Lee Shore

A popular book meme's been circulating, and I'm picking up the baton from Zach Campbell.  The rules are as follows: 1) Pick up the nearest book. 2) Open to page 123. 3) Locate the fifth sentence. 4) Post the next three sentences on your blog. 5) Tag five people and acknowledge who tagged you.

The book nearest to me happens to be Herman Melville's Moby Dick, which I haven't cracked open in years. But the one thing I definitely remember about it: it's not really about a whale.  Looking at the novel again, I realize that Melville was a gifted stylist:

Let me only say that it fared with him as with the storm-tossed ship, that miserably drives along the leeward land. The port would fain give succour; the port is pitiful; in the port is safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets, friends, all that's kind to our mortalities. But in that gale, the port, the land, is that ship's direst jeopardy; she must fly all hospitality; one touch of land, though it but grace the keel, would make her shudder through and through.

Following Zach's cue, I won't tag anyone in particular -- feel free to pick up the meme if you'd like.

An Update

Well, let me apologize for the long radio silence -- the very long radio silence, at least in blogging terms. I suppose there are a number of reasons for my absence, though the most prevailing one is a change in professions not too long ago; I've now got a teaching gig, and it's proven to be far more work than I had anticipated. In and of itself, it's a whole new venture, and in certain respects a far cry from my previous job, but the work seems also to be nearly around the clock, leaving me with little time for a whole variety of enthusiasms. I'm not necessarily complaining here, and teaching brings a certain kind of exhilaration (and, at other times, madness) I suspect few jobs afford; but, then, I've also found myself wishing for the moments to catch those films I've been meaning to see, the phone calls I've been wanting to return, the writing I've been planning to do. I began blogging, and continue to do so (well, not lately), for many of the reasons my friend Girish and his many commenting visitors do, and for as long as I can recall, I've found writing therapeutic, enriching, and in many ways a personal necessity.  All the more reason why I miss blogging, and miss being part of the community of online writers, cinephiles, and fellow travelers.

I'm not entirely sure what'll come next, not entirely sure if I'll be able to find the time to keep this site going, but I'm hoping I can.  I might have to put the blog on hiatus for a little while, perhaps until mid-June or so; or I might only be able to post snippets of ideas here and there, something I've thought of doing for a while.  In the least, I feel that I owe it to those of you who have stayed with me, radio silence and all, to explain where I've been and what I've been up to.  And once I figure out more definitely what I'll do about blogging, I'll announce it here.  In the meantime, I'm happy to say I haven't been entirely swallowed up by my vocation.  Here are some various thoughts on just a few enthusiasms I've been able to indulge lately:

*My sister lent me a copy of Paul Thomas Anderson's There Will Be Blood (2007), a film I had longed to see, and while many, rightfully, stressed Daniel Day Lewis' performance as Daniel Plainview, I was most impressed by Robert Elswit's photography. His command of landscape and depth-of-field made this a uniquely enjoyable film for me.

*Godard, always time for Godard, and though at the moment I can't write up all of my thoughts about Pierrot Le Fou, let me offer these: Criterion's DVD transfer is brilliant; Godard's use of words, letters, texts, and literary works is as extensive as it's ever been in his 60s films; the lack of exposition and the relaxed momentum to the film's shady thriller elements makes this a uniquely loose and random viewing experience; and the subtext about the Vietnam War gives the film a certain historical currency. One of my favorite lines in the film occurs when Anna Karina and Jean-Paul Belmondo stage a fake car accident: "It's gotta look real," Karina says.  "This isn't a movie."  Of course it is, and that's why it's so much fun.

*When I'm doing prep work for my courses, I can't watch films, but at least I can listen to music.  I've been enjoying the Handsome Furs' stripped-down Plague Park. The band consists of Dan Boeckner, the singer of Wolf Parade, and his wife, Alexei Perry.  Have a listen to "Cannot Get Started", the album's fifth track.

*I don't often have conversations about fiction anymore, only because I have little time to read any. But I was recently talking to a student of mine who enjoys reading in her spare time, and I found myself discussing writers I hadn't thought about in a while: Fitzgerald, Hemingway, James, contemporary authors such as Jhumpa Lahiri. This student gave me the idea to give Steinbeck a try; I've never read Steinbeck. Now, East of Eden, all 600 pages of it, sits on my desk. I'm on p. 1.  But, hey, I'm further than I was before I bought the book.

I hope to return soon. As always, thanks for your readership.

Around the Bend

I might not have any new writing here for a little while longer, but the web is full of reading (or viewing) material.  Here are some notable things I've either bookmarked or have been reading lately (most of which are film-related, with a few exceptions):

At Film Journey, my fellow Californian, Doug, offers his thoughts on the final cut of Ridley Scott's Blade Runner and some selections from the Los Angeles AFI Festival, which I had hoped to attend but eventually couldn't (see his posts here, here, here, and here).

Speaking of film festivals, Dan Sallitt has written a thorough report on the 2007 Toronto International Film Festival for Senses of Cinema.

The Evening Class has a lengthy, informative interview with actress Laura Linney.

Film critic Michael Atkinson, proprietor of Zero for Conduct, has written about Syberberg's "Our Hitler" for IFC (I've yet to see the film myself, though I do recall Susan Sontag's great essay on it, to which Atkinson refers). (Via Greencine Daily.)

Quiet Bubble muses with characteristic energy on Peter Hedges' Pieces of April.

At Errata, Rob Davis and J. Robert Parks discuss, via a podcast and an ensuing discussion in the comments, Hou Hsiao-hsien's Three Times.  I first saw the film this past summer and wrote about part of the experience here.

One of the more incisive, illuminating studies I've read of Michelangelo Antonioni's films is Seymour Chatman's Antonioni: Or, the Surface of the World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985). Chatman recently wrote about Antonioni's career for Art Forum (via Girish, who, by the way, just put up a nice post about the use of music in James Gray's We Own the Night; to his question, "your single favorite pop song of the 1980s?", I was going to reply with Blondie's "Dreaming", only to find the band recorded it in 1979. If we stretch the decade a bit, that would likely be the one.)

On to more music: via Alex Ross comes news that Deutsche Grammophon, one of classical music's leading record labels, has just launched an online store.  Normally, I prefer to buy my classical music the old-fashioned way (on CD), so that I can rip the music at higher bit rates for better transparency. But DG encodes their downloads at a high 320 Kbps, so I'm thinking I'll give their online shop a try.

Why has Rion been my favorite photoblogger for the past several years? Because she posts multiple images to tell a story or convey a sense of life.  Recent highlights include the Chateau de Chenonceau, the walkways of Paris, and life on the Aegean Sea.

Finally, a similar set-up about English novelist Sarah Hall: why have I been reading her work? Hall was originally a poet, and her prose bears the mark; her novels are about change, the general subject of many of the films and books I admire; her novels are also specifically regional, thereby turning location and environment into experience; and she doesn't flinch in the face of horribleness. I've recently learned that her third novel, The Carhullan Army, a dystopian story set in England in the near future, appeared in the U.K. from Faber & Faber a few months ago. I've got a copy on the way and might report back once I've finished the book. The Guardian is a bit lukewarm about the novel, while the Independent has an interview with the writer; via the Times today comes news that Hall received the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize for the book.

Can't Wait for This

Consider this a note of heady anticipation. Criterion will release Godard's Breathless on October 23, 2007; in addition to the new digital transfer, approved by cinematographer Raoul Coutard, the two-disc edition features a documentary on the making of the film and archival interviews with Godard, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Jean Seberg, and Jean-Pierre Melville.  Melville, by the way, had a brief role in the film as the philosopher Parvulesco. Jean Seberg asked him, "what is your greatest ambition in life?" His answer: "to become immortal, and then die".  (In the same scene, he's also asked, by someone else, "do you like Brahms?"  He replied, "Not at all. And Chopin's a scumbag.")

More info.

Michelangelo Antonioni, 1912-2007

Another giant of the cinema is gone. Greencine Daily has a nice round-up of tributes and links, while The New York Times has this appreciation. Antonioni was one of the most significant and influential of all modernists, and I feel especially indebted to his work; next to Godard, no other single director illuminated for me the nearly limitless potential of cinema as an art, a language, a way to interpret the world. His most important films (especially L'Avventura, La Notte, and L'Eclisse) were, and are, revolutionary, groundbreaking, and indispensable. Cinema was not the same after his arrival; it was vastly better.

Ingmar Bergman, 1918-2007

I couldn't have said it better.

(Also, a collection of various appreciations of the great director.)

Eight Things

Quiet Bubble tagged me with the eight-things meme; I'm to reveal eight random things about myself that readers are unlikely to know already. So here goes.

1. Linus had his blanket, but when I was young, my form of security was a small, white, cylindrical AM radio my parents bought for me, back in the day when AM radio stations regularly played music. That radio turned me into a devoted listener, and, later, I graduated to a portable FM radio, then to a handful of portable CD players, and then to a home stereo system. Now, the majority of my listening involves another object with a small, white form factor, the Apple iPod.  I don't often leave home without it.

2. My music tastes range widely, but my preferences can sometimes be specific. With rock music, for example, I usually prefer female singers, while most of the male voices I like belong to blues vocalists, and, unfortunately, I'm not fond of the genre. My favorite jazz instrument is the trumpet; my favorite classical instrument, the violin, though recently I've developed a fondness for piano players.

3. I used to run about a 5-second 40-yard dash and a 1:10 quarter mile. Nothing astounding, but better than average. I can no longer do either at those speeds.

4. To unwind at the end of a stressful day, I'll try a variety of recommended activities, except alcohol, largely because I'm allergic to it. Not only does my face turn a deep crimson, but my chest and neck muscles tighten, and I have difficulty breathing. But a reliable, non-allergenic de-stressing routine? Lying down, headphones on, listening to Bach.

5. I'm not much of a gambler, but I had a nice moment a few years back while playing blackjack. I split my hand three times, with an ace in each new hand. At the end of the round, I was up $160, and that was enough for me. I walked away and spent some of the money later on a good dinner.

6. For a while, I was a devoted Mac user ("Windows 95 = Mac 87," I used to say). But I eventually switched to Windows for various reasons and continued using it for more than a decade. Recently, I returned to Mac and couldn't be happier. Except I don't have an iPhone and probably won't for a long time. One of these wouldn't be bad, though.

7. My brother gave me some of the best financial advice I've ever received. He told me that the true price of something is not what's on the price tag; it's what else you can do with the money. Except when buying Criterion DVDs, I follow this wisdom every time I make a purchase (so I'll be holding off on that Mac Pro).

8. Like many cinephiles, I keep a log of the films I see, but I've only done this since 2006 and therefore have no idea which films I've seen the most. At the moment, I suspect that if I had to choose one film to watch religiously and repeatedly, it might very well be Wong Kar-Wai's In the Mood for Love, not only for the smoothness of its rhythms but for the beauty of its photography.

As far as tagging others, consider yourself tagged if you're so inclined.

Your Thoughts

Those of you who are familiar with my old blog, or those of you might not be but who are avid bloggers or blog readers, please take a look at this post if you have a chance.  I'd be interested in getting your thoughts. I'll return here soon with some film-related posts. Until then, have a good weekend.