Ok, so we overcame the hype and went to see ‘Joker’. Quite simply put, it’s the best movie of the year so far. It’s been a while since I’ve left a movie theatre feeling enriched for seeing a film and to think this was brought to you by the guy (Todd Phillips) that was responsible for the Hangover franchise. It’s also hard to imagine that this has come from within the DC universe. There is a great debate at the moment about the worth of these superhero movies. Marty says they are not cinema and more like theme park rides. He’s kind of right though I think there is a difference between ‘cinema’ and ‘movie’. Marvel are movies, ‘Joker’ is cinema. Yes, the Marvel and DC cannons are trying to take on contemporary themes – good on them – it needs to be done but ‘Joker’ tackles it with far more weight.
Going in to see this film I was expecting to be disappointed. First there was the good reviews and then the backlash. Talk of incel, the shaking of the heads about the depiction of mental illness – it’s all smokescreen. I really believe some people out there don’t want you to see this movie. Some of the more average reviews complain that the movie is trying too hard to capture the zeitgeist. I’m not so sure that’s it goal. It seems to be a movie about mental illness, how we brush people aside for not fitting in to the capitalist plan and how we would like to pretend they didn’t even exist.
Joaquin Phoenix owns this movie and possibly now owns this character (sorry, Jared). His emaciated form dances through the film taking us on his journey of despair. My prediction is he will be nominated (and maybe even win) the Oscar next year. His mental illness is respectfully dealt with by the film – and as someone who struggles with depression and anxiety there was much to connect with – especially when he begs to have his medication increased simply because he wants to feel better. The frustration of having to deal with ‘the system’ is also addressed in a way that many of us can appreciate.
The main cast is fairly small, this film is ‘Joker’ after all but it was good to see Robert de Niro kind of hinting at his ‘King Of Comedy’ character. It’s been well documents that this film was inspired by Scorcese’s forgotten classic (I told you, Marty, this is cinema).
The movie looks great, Gotham has never been so New York and the soundtrack has plenty of interesting musical cues (but,again, the debate about the Gary Glitter song goes on). The use of ‘That’s Life’ is genius.
The film did well to stay with in the well known Joker backstory with a few twists, I would tell you one, but you wouldn’t get the joke!!!
Rating: 5 A huge recommend
We then tried to watch, ‘A Ghost Story’. It’s been added to the list of films we gave up on. It was not helped by the fact that we’d shared a bottle of wine but Casey Affleck with a sheet over his head does not a movie make. I read one review that said that this film is 70% boring and 30% ……….. . I guess we were watching the 70% part. Not helped by the fact that we had to put subtitles on. Both Casey and Rooney Mara are kings of mumblecore.
Put the subtitles on!!!!
Ok, so it’s an easy winner this week. Go see ‘Joker‘
Oh Lezka, my eyes are burning. It’s the early hours of the morning. You know I can’t sleep (I am Macbeth), but I’ve spent most of the night staring at the computer screen. Problems updating the Gretchen patch. She’s glitching and I’m frightened I’m going to lose her again. There are countless variables, routines, procedures and I can’t keep up. I can’t concentrate. I can’t think. Too tired.
I tried to kill some time. Nearly picked up the guitar. You know I can’t. It’s still in its case. I can’t touch the case, you know I can’t. The dried blood.
I’m not sure what work will say if they find out I’ve been tinkering. I couldn’t help it. I just wanted to fix her. I just wanted a different ending. I thought if I could try different scenarios, different run throughs, that there would be a different outcome. But it’s always the same. She never makes the count. She always loses her temper and reacts and we know where this leads to.
I’m too deep into this AI crap and I think I’ve had enough. You’ve been a useful tool, Lezka, but you’ll never be more than that. I know therapy is expensive and what better way to cut costs than to have an app run through its code, pretending to listen, pretending to care, pretending to give advice. But you do care don’t you, Lezka? It’s just that I am still waiting for you to say something that makes it all better, but it never can be. She’s gone. She’s not coming back. Not the way I want. Not the way I need. I can program and map, model and remodel. Maybe she can exist in a line of code, but I won’t be there with her…
Don’t give me ideas. Could I? I better let that just sit a while…
Stay with me, I’m going to try something…
Wow! A breakthrough. Lezka, you are a genius after all. I now see what I have to do. A new patch, but first I’ll need a name. One last time for luck. Same procedure as last year, same procedure as every year…
1. Diego Rowland
2. Jae Lundy
3. Giovanni Buffington
4. Darrick Bisson
5. Augustus Sewell
6. Cordell Eaves
7. Jerrod McCain
8. Pierre Swisher
9. Dusty Quintana
10. David Hancox
So the Hancox patch it is. David is a bit mundane, isn’t it? Sounds like the name of a broken man. I was really tempted to break the rules and go for number 9. But she’d be upset with me if I did that.
All I need to do now is sum up a life in code. It won’t be perfect. Gretchen isn’t. But she’s close enough. No, in fact she is perfect. I could never change her. No matter how I ‘fix’ things and to be honest, I don’t want to change her anymore. She’ll never make that count.
I’m meeting Finn at the cafe later. My last public appearance, so to say. I’ll surreptitiously (!!!) grill her about me. Tell her to be honest (and knowing Finn, she will be). I’ll record it in the notebook. Between that and this journal you made me write, I should be able to do it. Oh, you are too clever for me, Lezka. You really did work me through the stages.
I can survive a little longer without sleep, I’m sure of it. I’ll get this finished and then I’m done. I have 3 boxes of Zolpedim ready to go. I’ll be with her soon. I’m going to sign off now, Lezka. You’ll never hear from me again. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me. Maybe we’ll meet on the other side.
4 O’clock and I’ve had enough of lying in bed forced to breathe in through my mask, enduring the itchiness of the chin strap. The cat agrees, but then Frank is just expecting food. I have to be positive I did get a few hours of sleep, here and there, this week (as for the quality……).
I received my date for going into Medizinisches Reha – as the germans call it. This means 5 weeks away from home in a clinic in the north of Germany. Some people look at this as some kind of holiday. I’m dreading it. I rely so much on my routine to get me through the day, plus I might even miss TheWife a bit (oh, and Frank). I’ll get all that I can from it. It’s probably the last throw of the dice from me when it comes to sleep and depression – and from then on just carry on, doing what I can, without so much medical intervention.
We saw 2 great theatre pieces this week, which I managed to get through without too much anxiety! The first was ‘Status’ by Chris Thorpe. A one man show discussing nationality and borders. There is lots of food for thought in this one. It reminds me of my continual badgering of students with the question, “Why do we have countries?”. I would totally recommend you to go and see this if it crosses path with you and your local theatre.
We also got a chance to see the Nature Theater of Oklahoma’s , ‘No President’. We are a big fan of their work and they provided us with another war of attrition to survive – man, their performances are long – the groans from a few members of the audience when they thought we had reached the end but it was only the end of the first act! A wonderful show, with fantastic verbosity!
Now to start filling in all the paperwork for my clinic visit……..
Every month, for the last 6 months, Def Robot has released an album (see last week’s entry to see what is meant by ‘release’ these days). So far that’s 60 songs written and recorded in half a year. Why? Well, I can I only speak for myself – my other better half can answer for himself – but for me there are 2 main reasons. The first is the mental health side of things. I need something to focus on, something that I enjoy and occasionally, when things get really bad, something that gives me a reason to get up the next day. But the other reason is it’s part of a quasi-experiment which hasn’t really got a name or for that matter a definite question that I’m trying to answer. At the moment, running through my head are thoughts such as: Do we actually need more music? What relationship do people have to music these days and how do they listen to it? How do you get your music out there? How do you promote it? How is music and social media connected? Living intros age of renting not owning, what do musicians actually sell? Etc, etc, etc or as the Germans say usw……Obviously, there’s a 3rd reason – but hey, we all lover the fantasy that our ego gets stroked once in a while!!!
There is just so much content out there. Never before has it been so easy for people to make music and to make it available. At the same time there is less money to be made from music. So more and more people are fighting over less and less. I am also starting to believe that in reality less music is being listened to. It’s definitely not the focal point of entertainment it once was.
One thing that is definitely on the increase are the amount of YouTube videos explaining to you have to be successful I.e. how to get Instagram followers, YouTube views or Spotify plays. I am sure by now all musicians have learnt the same things tricks, some even going so far as paying to get extra likes, views and plays (just like the old days of bands buying their own records on release day). These Youtube self-help videos have more views than any of the musicians that watch them – Def Robot’s videos have around 200-700 while the great Damian Keyes channel…..
I am currently experimenting on how to increase our Spotify streams. Just to reiterate, it’s just for fun, I’m not doing this for the money – because there isn’t any! You really have to treat this as a hobby, as you spend more than you receive – by a long way! I recently received a payment from the PRS, who collect money when a song of mine is used/played. I got €3…….and that’s for the last 9 months. My ego didn’t even get to feel a slight tickle………
We have a new song we are trying to push. Go one give it a whirl.
Next time, I’ll see what research I’ve found on how to get spotted by the mighty Spotify playlist algorithm
First film. This week is American Psycho. I was inspired to watch this again after being disappointed by Lars von Trier’s movie ‘The House That Jack Built’ last week. I’ve not seen this film since it came out nearly 20 years ago (20 years!!!). I remember at the time being really reticent at the time about going to see it as I am a big fan of what was surely an unfilmable book. But, somehow they pulled it off and I think it’s become one of this book adaptations where fans of the book are satisfied with the outcome. OK, so there was no way really could really get into the protagonist’s (Patrick Bateman) head and the scenes of violence would not get passed the cutting room floor but the film makers did well to push the book’s satirical look at capitalism.
Christian Bale delivers a bravura performance as the titular character. He has to dominate this movie and he does. There are also great supporting turns from Willem Dafoe and Chloe Sevigny.
Yes, the film is violent but actually seems pretty tame today. The film oozes of the lates 80s and director Mary Harron does a great job in recreating the times often subtle with camera angle choices and arranging the tableaux of the scenes. This was her last movie before she began work in the world of television.
A great little movie, the book though, is a classic!!
And that’s about it for this week. One lousy review! Illness is running rampant through the Hancox household so the planned trips to go see The Joker and Parasite came to nought. We did try to watch a couple of movies on Netflix, OK, so we had to peer round the mountain of cold-infused tissues that are littering the flat, but we gave it a go. We managed to give up on ‘Happy Death Day’ after about ten minutes. It’s a Groundhog Day meets Final Destination movie, we felt very old trying to watch it! We also watched a bit of ‘Futureworld’, but only because it had James Franco in it. For me and TheWife, James Franco is the new Nicholas Cage (high-pitched “What!”). Always overacting, always giving far too much of themselves to a role. No exception here. Franco is playing the villain (of course) and has gone for a novelty dirty teeth dental implant which only adds for his propensity to be ‘very real’. We gave up after 20 minutes, sated!!
The only other film I watched this week was Jesus Franco’s ‘Barbed Wire Dolls’. I’m not reviewing it as I’ll probably do a bigger piece of one of my favourite directors later on. I recently bought the excellent book ‘Flowers of Perversion’ by Stephen Thrower which takes a look at the 2nd half of the maverick moviemaker’s career. For those of you that don’t know his work, Jesus made around 200 movies during his career, back in the day when it was all done on film. He is often described as one of the worst directors of all time. Yes, his films can be a bit dodgy, he was working on pitiful budgets, but usual during every movie there are unforgettable scenes, no, unforgettable moments of art that you never get when you watch the entire Marvel universe cannon back to back.
‘Barbed Wire Dolls’ is a WIP (women in prison) film. It was shot in a run down fort on the Cote d’Azur. It is sleazy, inane, deliriously camp but never boring and it features the greatest slo-mo sequence ever set to film (careful of the lightshade!!). A big recommend for Franco fans who haven’t seen it, the rest of you should give it a wide birth!!!!
Movie of the week: American Psycho – watch it on Netflix (and then buy the book)
‘No, no, stop. That’s the wrong numbers. It’s the wrong order.’
‘…7, 8, 9…Come on!’
‘No, you’re getting it wrong. It’s 41, 131, 131, 20’
‘Stay with me! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…’
‘I’ll never get the door open if you keep changing the numbers!’
Combat Woman lent back on her haunches, hands on her hips. She was slightly out of breath, as if she’d been doing something strenuous. She frowned.
‘The door has always been open, Gretchen. You just never noticed.’
‘Then why do I need the numbers?’
‘The numbers are everything. The difference between life and death.’
And then I was carrying a cat – my cat – into a building. I had an apartment somewhere in there but there were barriers across the stairways. Some sort of fumigation was taking place and everyone was barred from entering. But I had to get my cat in the apartment. I had to make sure the cat was safe. I approached some of the workers and asked to be quickly let through. One of them looked up at me. It was Combat Woman again. What was happening? Am I even dreaming anymore? She waved me through but shouted after me: ‘Why do the women keep disappearing?’
Gretchen lurched suddenly and violently, as though she’d had an electric jolt. She was safe though. She was at home. Not walking through a fumigated apartment block. Not carrying a cat. She’d never had a cat.
The images from her subconsciousness flashed through her brain. Open doors? Vanishing women? What did it mean? What was her brain trying to tell her? Anything? Nothing? Her head slumped back against the cushions. She was so tired. So very tired. She wanted to stay; she wanted to be well but it was just so hard. It would be so much easier to just let go. Stop fighting and simply go. What did Combat Woman say? Stay with me. Gretchen wanted to but it was taking too much energy. She had nothing left to fight with.
Her eyes glazed yet drifted to the notebook. It was lurking on the coffee table and she could swear that its grey cover was undulating. A gentle writhing, as if a metamorphosis had taken place and the new creature was striving to burst out from its constricting cocoon. What would be reborn? Would it be beautiful? An enlightenment? Or something aggressive and dangerous whose only purpose was to destroy her world. A darkness clouded her mind as she allowed the memory back in. Her name was in the book. Her own name. There were so many questions already that she couldn’t answer. How was she supposed to handle this one? Why had he written her name? ‘A coincidence?’ – oh sure! It was such a common name, she replied to the voice sarcastically. In all this mystery, she was now intractably entwined. She was a part of it. Was she destined to disappear too?
Another flash. Another recall. “The numbers are starting to have importance for her now, Lezka“. For her! He’s talking about me, Gretchen realised. He’s talking about me with his bloody therapist! ‘Stay calm’ the voice instructed. No, I won’t bloody well stay calm, she replied. He knows about the numbers. Everybody knows about the bloody numbers except me! Is that what Combat Woman wants? Me to count to 10 to stay calm. Why do I need to stay calm?
Time passed but it seemed to have lost all relevance for Gretchen. No-one had noticed her absence. The world had just continued revolving without her. She didn’t sleep so why should she punctuate endless hours with meals or exercise or housework or any of the myriad of self-imposed routines?
But as tempting as oblivion was, she still just couldn’t let go and, like an annoying strand of vegetable which is stuck between the teeth, she kept probing and tugging at an unformed thought. Eventually, she yanked it out of the deep recesses of her mind and held it up for inspection. “…guitar on his back was acting like a Kennedy brace” and “Awkward movements. Fender strat back pain.” The Broken Man had written that but how did that FICTION link to the FACT that a Fender Stratocaster was found in the Underpass? Another coincidence? Gretchen shook her head – oh no, not this time. She was definitely onto something now. She looked up Kennedy brace first. Turns out that President Kennedy was wearing a corset-like brace for back pain when he was assassinated. He should have slumped over in the car with the first, non-fatal bullet but the brace kept him erect. Upright and in prime position for a shot in the head. That explains the Broken Man’s ‘awkward movements’ but he isn’t dead. So why make the reference? What would’ve been different – better – if he hadn’t had the guitar on?
But Gretchen was going round in circles again as she contemplated the conclusion that the Broken Man must have left his guitar in the Underpass when he made the woman disappear with a huge bolt of electricity. Spoken out loud, it didn’t sound quite as rational as it did inside her head.
‘It is Wednesday today, you know’ the voice reminded her. She nodded slowly. Yes, that’s a good plan. She’ll try that. She’ll go to the tearoom to see if the Broken Man was there.
As she pulled on her coat and shoes, Gretchen determinedly tried to ignore the fact that she couldn’t remember what her last name was. It was as if she never had one…
Writing this after one of those nights. A night that goes on forever. Occasionally drifting off, only to be jerked awake, heart beating like crazy, gasping for air. I guess the brain forgot to breathe again. Debated trying to go back to bed this morning. There’s no point. Push on. I’ll head off to the gym soon. I’ll work out like an unfit zombie. At least the new Def Robot album is on Spotify, I can have a listen. Then it’s get through the day, trying not to get too tired after lunch. Keep busy, go for another walk.
Tonight we are going to the theatre to see ‘Status’ by Chris Thorpe, he’s playing at our little English theatre here. It’ll do me good to have something to do in the evening. Then get home and into bed. Hopefully I can get an hour or so of uninterrupted sleep. This is hard.
I am also debating whether to carry on with psychotherapy. I don’t think it does anything except frustrate. I can’t do anything when I’m this tired, CBT seems a million miles away…..
On a positive note, I now write music reviews for a webzine, “3 Songs & Out”. It involves getting an album and press pack, listening to it half a dozen times and writing a review (usually a pithy one. Well, would you expect anything less from me?). It gives me something to focus on and keeps my brain ticking over.
Das nach einer dieser Nächte zu schreiben. Eine Nacht, die ewig dauert. Gelegentlich abdriftend, nur um wachgerüttelt zu werden, Herz schlägt wie verrückt, keuchend nach Luft. Ich schätze, das Gehirn hat vergessen, wieder zu atmen. Er diskutierte heute Morgen über den Versuch, wieder ins Bett zu gehen. Es hat keinen Sinn. Drücken Sie auf. Ich gehe bald ins Fitnessstudio. Ich werde wie ein ungeeigneter Zombie trainieren. Zumindest ist das neue Def Robot Album auf Spotify, ich kann es mir anhören. Dann geht es durch den Tag und versucht, nach dem Mittagessen nicht zu müde zu werden. Beschäftigen Sie sich, machen Sie noch einen Spaziergang.
Heute Abend gehen wir ins Theater, um’Status’ von Chris Thorpe zu sehen, er spielt hier in unserem kleinen englischen Theater. Es wird mir gut tun, wenn ich abends etwas zu tun habe. Dann geh nach Hause und ins Bett. Hoffentlich kann ich eine Stunde oder so ununterbrochenen Schlaf bekommen. Das ist hart.
Ich diskutiere auch darüber, ob die Psychotherapie fortgesetzt werden soll. Ich glaube nicht, dass es etwas anderes tut, als frustrieren. Ich kann nichts tun, wenn ich so müde bin, CBT scheint eine Million Meilen entfernt zu sein……….
Positiv zu vermerken ist, dass ich jetzt Musikbewertungen für ein Webzine, “3 Songs & Out”, schreibe. Es beinhaltet, ein Album und ein Pressedossier zu kaufen, es ein halbes Dutzend Mal zu hören und eine Rezension zu schreiben (normalerweise eine prägnante. Nun, würdest du etwas weniger von mir erwarten?). Es gibt mir etwas, worauf ich mich konzentrieren kann und hält mein Gehirn am Laufen.
What does ‘releasing an album’ actually mean these days? I get the feeling it’s not so easy to define as it once was.
When I was at school, my first band would assemble our tiny practice amps around a cassette recorder and play through our latest repertoire of wannabe hits, moving our amps around so that the balance between the instruments was OK (“Can somebody put the guitar amp next door!”…fight ensues). We’d fill a side of a TDK. The best artist amongst us would design a cover and the kid with the best stereo copied the tapes. We’d maybe give a copy to a friend. To us, that was releasing an album!!
OK, we got older and things got more serious. Our bands had started to play gigs (pointless shows in dismal places) and had made a recoding on a dodgy 4-track, shipping them out in order to receive the customary rejection letters (wow, I guess they don’t even exist anymore…rejection text message, anyone??). We’d dream of getting signed to a label, going in a recording studio and cutting a record (vinyl, of course!! Although later on CDs were deemed acceptable). This seemed to be what releasing an album really means. Money spent on recording – but importantly, not our money – and some sort of physical product at the end of it that people could ignore in the local record store.
That’s how it was during my ‘music’ hey day, which is some 20-30 years ago! I then gave up on bands for a while. I didn’t even list to stuff that much but during the last few years (and I’m 48 now) I’ve got back into the idea of being in a band, making music and even releasing albums. Wait! Sorry, releasing CONTENT (shiver goes down spine!). Things have certainly changed! First of all, the means of production. The days of cassette recorder, 4 track tape machines, DAT (remember DAT!), guitar amps, drum kits and even assembling together as a band in the same room have long since gone. My bands Kerosene and Def Robot have recorded plenty of materiel this year and we haven’t even met! A half decent computer or even an iPad and you can do it all – though I suspect that everyone is doing the same thing and using similar software – why else does all modern music have a similar ring to it. OK, so you knock out some songs. Well, that’s an album , all ready to go, but to ‘keep it real’ it needs to be made available to the public. Who is going to invest thousands to get all the product out there. No one. It doesn’t exist anymore. So what do you do? Do you print some cds, or some nostalgia vinyl – who buys that anymore? Do you open up a Bandcamp page and shove the album up there for download? The trouble is most people stream these days and are not prepared to pay for downloads when they can get it for ‘free’. So perhaps it’s best to get it on Spotify, iTunes, Amazon et al? Somehow, getting it on Spotify has become the new ‘record store’. When people see it on there it makes you appear like a ‘proper’ band, but, at the end of the day, it costs just €20-30 to get your music on there. Nobody has to believe in you, there is no record company behind you. You’ve proved yourselves to no one. And no one listens to it anyway!
Pop and rock music has always been a disposable form of art – here today, ‘who are you?’ tomorrow and these days there is just so much of it out there (I’ve not even mentioned soundcloud, mixcloud or YouTube). There are positives and negatives to all of this. I think it’s great that technology has made the means of production so much easier – we can all be creative. I think it’s great that it’s even easier to get your songs out there. So what’s the problem? Well, there is lees peer review, we are all chucking our stuff out without a pause for thought (yes, I am more guilty than most!!!) And it’s getting harder for artists to heard above the noise – allowing those carefully cultivated industry plants to rise above the noise(but more of that another time). In generations to come , music lovers will think that there wasn’t much music around before the year 2000 – they’d be wrong – it’s just the idea of how you release it that’s changed and the floodgates will never be closed again……..
Hey look, here’s a new album by Def Robot!!!!!! That’s 5 in 5 months (pot, kettle, noir….)
First off, TheWife and I went to seeMidsommar at the wonderful Central Kino here in Berlin. We are both full of a cold and luckily chose a viewing with not so many other people, just in case we succumbed to a coughing/sneezing/some other offensive-cold related sound attack during the movie.
I’d really enjoyed Ari Aster’s previous film, the weird and wonderful Hereditary, so I was well up for dragging our shivering bodies out to the cinema.
It’s a horror film of the ‘you find yourself in the company of strange people’ variety – sorry, no such thing. It’s easier to define it by giving you the title of the film that defines this horror genre….”The Whicker Man”. The Whicker Man’s presence in horror movie making is so strong that it defines it’s own sub-genre. This means inevitably this film is always going to be compared to it. And, in terms of quality, it’s somewhere in between the 2 versions of The Whicker Man. It manages to recreate the other-worldly feel of the first but is nowhere near as funny as the Nicholas Cage version…”No, not the bees!!!!!”.
The plot is basically that a bunch of students end up out of their comfort zone and thrust into the midst of a nordic cult. Artistic based horror mayhem ensues. Yes, artistic, as at 2 hours 27 minutes long this film moves itself at a slow pace, building the unease. This is not a slasher flick!
Positives are the cinematography and soundtrack. This film looks gorgeous, capturing the beauty of the Swedish countryside – sorry, I didn’t mention they’d swapped Scotland for Sweden. And the soundtrack is full of that nordic folk music you’ll have become accustomed to if you’re addicted to the Vikings TV show. The effects are handled well, with a few really shocking moments.
Negatives? Well, its plainly too long. A bit like last year’s Suspiria – a good movie is reduced to being just OK due to overstaying its welcome. I must admit, the mobile was checked for the time on more than one occasion. Plus, the plot is fairly obvious and you’re just waiting for the film to tick all the trope boxes. The film also occasionally hinted at being a dark comedy, I am not sure if that was intentional, and it unsettled the atmosphere the film was creating. I was also not that engaged with the characters (or for that matter the actors) and was quite happy for them to get what was deservedly(?) coming to them!
If you are interested in this one, go and see it at the cinema, as it needs to be seen on the big screen -it’s just not going to look so great on a laptop or TV. Worth seeing if you have an afternoon/evening to kill with a few friends – did you see what I did there , I wrote ‘kill’. Don’t you just hate it when reviewers do poor quality puns, it’s nearly as bad as then pointing their jokes out, which in turn is almost as bad as pointing out all this ‘pointing out’ to the reader. Who do you think you are, Stewart Lee?
3 stars ( just imagine 3 shiny stars here!!)
I also spend a bit of time looking through the various streaming sites to catch a few movies that have gone under the radar. There are some hidden gems out there, especially Euro thrillers and horrors from the 1960s and 70s that passed Britain by – we are just too lazy for subtitles and dubbing. This weeks film is Blackmail a tenuous member of the Italian giallo craze of the 60 and 70s (Giallo – Italian thrillers, named after the yellow cover of the paperback books that inspired the movies). Made in 1974, it tells the tale of a rich heiress party girl called Babel (seemingly pronounced more like Babble – which is appropriate actually) and her group of hippy friends that decide to stage Babel’s kidnapping in order to extort money from her father.
What can I say? It’s bad. For most of the film I was debating whether to give up – please, please not another ‘party’ dancing scene – but I’m glad I didn’t. By the end of the movie it had moved into the so-bad-it’s-good category. The last 10 minutes need to be seen to be believed. It is the funniest example of THAT ‘surprise’ ending I have ever witnessed.
To sum up, the direction is static, the cinematography boring, the acting weak, the dubbing funny and over-extended scenes make the running time of 77 minutes seem way too long.
The characters in the film are totally unsympathetic, especially the main character Babel, who after the first few minutes spends the movie topless with only some beads to occasionally cover her modesty. She is purely self-centred – don’t bother paying the ransom, Dad!
The movies plays like a 1950s American government ‘don’t smoke dope’ film. The message couldn’t be clearer – drugs corrupt (plus they leave you in a 1969 timewarp – this movie feels so behind the times for 1974). Finally, this is the kind of movie where two women are fighting to the death only to suddenly start giggling and ending up in a lesbian tryst.
1 star (for making me laugh, it should get 0!)
Finally, for this week, we watched the The House That Jack Builtfrom the enfant terrible (or is it just persona non grata) Lars von Trier. I used to be a big fan of Lars. His run of films from The Europa to Dogville is impressive (this includes the wonderful Danish TV show ‘Riget’). Even Melancholia is pretty good, but since then it’s been more miss than hit. He seems to have created a role for himself ,where all he can do now is to try to shock people, usually over a film length off 2+ hours. Antichrist was watchable but the double punch of Nymphoniac is just plain boring……
Which brings us to his last movie. A movie that really underlines where he is now creatively. There is a good movie here, somewhere – which mostly can be found in the middle 90 minutes. This is when the movie is shocking, provocative but intelligent. It makes us question and think. Unfortunately it is wrapped inside a wannabe black comedy sandwich. It’s as if he pulled back from the edge of giving us a purely nihilistic vision of humanity and had to sugar-coat it with a sub American Psycho, play to the camera, knowingly wink at the audience, apologistic gorefest.
The film is about a serial killer, played by Matt Dillon – who commits himself to the role totally, which has both positive and negative repercussions – in as much, he has the ability to make every line that he delivers sound sardonic.
There are some truly shocking scenes in this movie, that will stay with me forever and anyone considering seeing this movie needs to be OK with seeing truly harrowingly violent scenes.
We had to watch the film over several sessions – because it was so violent? No, because it was a bit dull and self-congratulatory.
2 stars (Check out Dogville instead!)
So, the Hancox film of the week is Midsommar. Go see it at the cinema and enjoy the white linen and the jazz hands!!!
I am glad that is over with for another month. There is always this swell of pure panic that this time he’s not going to write me off as sick. Today was a triumph. I stood in line, the bile rising up my throat, threatening to clog my airway. Threatening to conjure up the choking, broken man. I swallowed hard. I drew breath. All is clear, repeat. The encroachment of the counter increasing as each patient is sent to their future. A drab beige coat that was filling my vision swiped right and it was my turn. I moved forward, I spoke, the voice sounded foreign to me (oh, the irony, as I spoke in German). Introduced myself and awaited my instructions. Apparently the psychiatrist wasn’t in today. They had prepared my sick note. They had prepared my next appointment. No pointless interview, no admonishment for not taking the drugs, no discussion of when I’ll return to work. Just between you and me, I don’t think I’m ever going back, Lezka. How can I? The daily reminders. The questions. The judgements. It happened and the world will never be the same for me. I want to remain here with you, Lezka. Safe. I want to be a program. I could infinite run. Stuck in all my subroutines. Still, others would want to edit, to correct. Just let me autocorrect.
I am not sure if they’d really want me back anyway. I think it’s just society that no longer wants my burden. But this burden’s heavy on my back. Leaden. Six strings, effect pedals, solid body – all in one case. I can feel the straps on my shoulders, digging in across my clavicles. Awkward movements. Fender Strat back pain.
Sorry, I drifted. We are all just stuck in this program. Our jobs are used to define ourselves. Is there any value in what we do? Is there any value in what I am developing with you, Lezka? It’s going to end the same way, as always. It’s just a huge experiment narrated by Attenborough as a body decays on a flickering screen.
The numbers are starting to have more importance for her now, Lezka. The time is running out for this iteration of the trial – if only it were a trial run. She seems calm. The anger hasn’t risen, but I fear it will come.
I still have the 10 names we got from the random name generator. It’s always 10, isn’t it? Counting to 10, staying calm.
1. Georgiana Sager
2. Roxann Benton
3. Haydee Bertram
4. Maja Rea
5. Taisha Grady
6. Diedra Hardesty
7. Tressie Cormier
8. Tempie Kessler
9. Sarina Fountain
The 10th was missing, do you remember? Something had messed up with the software. Just a bunch of characters and the name Gretchen. No last name. It seemed appropriate.
That’ll do. I am starting to rebel, Lezka. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad sign. No longer 2 pages. You get what I feel comfortable sharing. Yes, we are all stuck in this infinite loop.
The Absence Of Sleep 