thnx 2 melo-d

I frequently find reviews by laypersons (non-writer/critic types) that just bust me up. Found this "review" of Cocteau's La Belle et La Bete on netflix. Enjoy:

 Beautiful!! Im 47 & I never knew that this movie existed.When I get 2 heaven,Ive gotta chicken 2 tweeze w/my mom.If I could live in fairy-tale land..This is where I wanna live.Everything is wonderful about this film,tho I must say,I dont want my prince 2 look like a dorky-nerdy dweeb in tights.My jaw hit the floor when I saw him.Yuk! Id rather stick 2 being w/la Bete.Hes much more masculine even tho he looks like,oops,Im gonna say it, chewbacca or toto all grown up w/a bone-er.Id just give him a good waxing! I loved the sets so much!The Doors were 2 die 4,& the statues..omg,& magnificent was magnificent! I am so doing my bedrm just like Belles.We should b able 2 post pics on this site.I wanted 2 punch the sisters,grrr.I loved Belles dresses.I want 2 dress like her every day! I agree w/most.I didnt feel the love,I felt her guilt.Dad was great,but the brother reminded me of the modern day crack-head.The editing was a little off,but who cares?Im glad its in bl&wh.Evey1 looks more beautiful that way.2morrow,I start wking on my candleabras! This film will remain in my life.omg..Ive a new fav cinimatic fairy-tale! How luck does strike from time 2 time! & being a pro-dreamer,Ive found a great 1.A must see! If I could give it more stars..I would.If I didnt go 2 stevie Nicks web-site,I never wouldve found this beautiful & magical masterpiece.Thanx stevie 4 the lead 2 this awesome film & thanx nflix 4 being here so I could do so.Beautiful dreams 2 all my movie buff friends!Nighty-night! Melody. o_o

Excuses excuses...

 It's been over a month since my last post, but I have a gooood excuse: Claire Anne Finley, b. October 30, 2010, 10:58 pm. 8 lbs. 4 oz., 20 1/2 " long. Here are some pictures:

Before...

After!

She sure looks good on me.

 My two lovelies.

 She looks even better on you.

 Weighing in at 8 lbs. 4 oz.

 First car ride: 2007 Subaru Outback. Whoopee.

 Arriving home and looking fab (Claire too).

 Ian, Claire; Claire, Ian.

 Wanna play paddle-ball?

 G'ma gets some love.

 Love Love Love.

Ciao, CD

A Hallowe'en Read

I'm about halfway through my first Dennis Wheatley novel, To The Devil--A Daughter (1953), a rather silly (so far) but fun occult thriller. Wheatley was an English writer who lived 1897-1977 and wrote some 50+ novels, mostly thrillers like this, although he wrote crime, espionage, and historical fiction as well. Hammer studios made three of his novels into decent films: the aforementioned title, plus The Devil Rides Out and The Lost Continent (aka Uncharted Seas). The novel, so far, is a bit chatty and full of midcentury English and French stereotypes (the English are tweedy, chivalrous, and full of derring-do; the French are untrustworthy, decadent, and sensual), and everyone, hero and villain alike, is given to speechifying about the perils of socialism. Even so, like I said, it's fun if you don't take it too seriously (how could you?) and just let the story take you away to the French Riviera where, despite the fact that a young demon-possessed girl has just been smuggled aboard a yacht by Satanists determined to overthrow Western Civilisation, there's always time for a pastis, a plate of oysters, and a lecture on occult symbolism.

The book I'm reading was purchased for 30p in a cozy little bookshop in Hastings, England, called Old Town Book Centre (now no longer in existence, I'm afraid), a stone's throw from the famous Mermaid fish & chips shop (now under poor management, I'm afraid). My buying it is connected in my mind with a lovely visit to my dear, dear friends Barry and Jacque, who lived in the nearby town of Denton at the time (about ten years ago). Actually there were two books--the other was The Devil Rides Out--but it has gone missing, probably a casualty from a few months back when I did a little sell-off of unread and unwanted paperbacks from around the house. It's a shame, for according to a website I happened on the other day, they may be from a somewhat collectible series of editions. These were the Heron editions, paperbacks produced in the style of their hardback counterparts--a pseudo Morroco leather soft cover with gilded lettering and framing. (Read about them in as much tedious detail as you could ever want here.) My copy of To the Devil--A Daughter from 1972 is badly abused, unfortunately, (I think Ian had a go at it--the cover's ripped and there are teeth marks), and I believe it was for that reason it survived the purging from some months ago. Here's what it should look like:

But perhaps the most interesting thing about my book is the illustrations by French artist Michel de St. Ouen. There's only three, but they've intrigued me enough to seek him out online. It seems he's a fantasy illustrator/artist whose new-agey pictures--by turns sexy, eerie, ludicrous--have a certain mystical quality, hard to describe, that draws me in. There's some good representative images online if you do a simple Google search. Here's a site he's involved with, the Society for Art of Imagination, which features some of his pictures and those of others like him. As for my book, check these out.. As I said, by turns...

...sexy (not the Tor Johnson look-alike with the man-boobs):

 ...eerie (seriously):

 

 ...and ludicrous (does this not look like something a Twilight nerdette drew on a Pee-chee?):

But they're perfect for this kind of a book, a goofy thrill-ride. As I told K, it's like spending loads of time inside a good, full-blooded Hammer film from c.1965., and perfect for the season.

Happy Hallowe'en!
~CD

Made in Portland

While blogging yesterday, I hit the "Next Blog" button at the top of the screen and was whisked away to a random blog. It turned out to be some person, not unlike myself, with a penchant for sharing oddball items for no good (or bad) reason. He had on there a link to a project by Aaron Trotter, a Portland artist who is seeking financial support for an art project--a deck of playing cards featuring his own drawings of Portland city scenes. He was looking to raise $500 for the venture, and the blog featured a video explaining his project and displaying a number of his prototypes. I liked his drawings, generally (especially the two of PDX bridges), and was intrigued enough to explore his work further on the Net today. Before I had the chance to, however, I had some errands to run with K. I dropped her off for an appointment and then drove up to Alberta street to kill an hour by having a coffee and taking a walk down the street to see what's new (a great "art street"). Amazingly, I came across one of Trotter's prints in an art studio/shop window: a drawing of the "Made in Portland" sign in Old Town! I wasn't sure it was his until I got home again and researched it on the Web. Now I'm generally not a superstitious fellow, but I do sort of half-believe in the notion that if something is consistently making itself known to you without your consciously seeking it out, you should probably pay attention to it. Soooo...here's a link to his own website on which he discusses his project: http://www.aarontrotter.com/. Spend some time there. He's got all sorts of crazy things--but I especially like his abstract drawings and paintings (most of them). There's something good a-happening there...

~CD

Soon to be Viewed!

I can't wait to blog about this, so here goes.

The Mystery of Oberwald arrived in the mail recently, and I'm going to view it very soon (I'll explain). It's a 1980 film directed by my one of my cinematic heroes, Michelangelo Antonioni, and starring his former wife Monica Vitti, certainly my favorite Italian actress (sorry Sophia). The two had long since separated by 1980, but they saw fit to team up one last time to give this project--an experiment, no less-- a whirl. Get this: it's based on Jean Cocteau's play "The Eagle with Two Heads," an historical melodrama (way out of MA's alley) about a 19th century noblewoman who falls in love with the agent sent to assasinate her. Antonioni eschews his usual celluloid for a new-fangled technology: videotape! Yes, he videotaped the entire film, eager to see what innovations might come through tape--speed of production, costs, coloring, and general texture. Most reviews have been lukewarm on the film, though it's never panned; it's got so many intriguing elements at play I can't wait to see it. Now, I just need to find me a VCR...

The cassette came from Facets Video in Chicago (who are also the distributers, apparently), a favorite haunt of mine when we lived there. The second best video rental place in the country, I think. Those of you who live in PDX know very well who number one is.

~CD

Recently Viewed

OSS 117: Lost in Rio. 2009. Anglo-French super-spy Hubert Bonisseur de la Bath is at it again in this sequel to 2006's OSS 117: Cairo Nest of Spies. As with that film, it's a parody of a popular French espionage book and film series featuring the character of the same name (as if the Austin Powers films [which they resemble a bit] parodied a previously legit Austin Powers character). In this one, de la Bath is rooting out Nazis in Brazil with the help of a beautiful Israeli agentess. Plenty of giggles here if not guffaws. **1/2

Bad Timing. Nicholas Roeg, 1980. Brooding, semi-linear narrative about an American psychiatry professor in Vienna (Art Garfunkel) and his love affair with the young American wife (Theresa Russell) of an older Czech man whom she crosses the border to visit at times. Her reckless behavior--sleeping around, boozing, etc.--disturbs the psychiatrist deeply, and his inability to define her, control her, and possess her eventually drives him to commit an atrocious act while she is unconscious (due to an intentional overdose of pills). Harvey Keitel plays a Viennese detective investigating the sordid situation. Not one of Roeg's better films, I think, but hardly deserving of the scorn it received on its first being released (a "sick film for sick people" one reviewer famously said.) However, it's not merely exploitive twaddle--it's an honest attempt to examine the psychology of a controlling narcissist. *** (Great poster, eh? -->)

My Name is Bruce. Bruce Campbell, 2007. B movie stalwart Bruce Campbell plays himself in this send-up of the genre that almost made him a star. Here he's been recruited by a fanboy to fight an ancient evil--the spirit of a Chinese sorceror (or something) who has been unintentionally revived and is wreaking vengeance on behalf of a group of 19th century Chinese miners killed in a cave-in. The plot isn't important. What's important is...well none of this is important. It's Bruce directing Bruce playing Bruce. But I wouldn't mind a little less self-conscious cheese and a few more honest to goodness thrills. Sam Raimi understood that to be be funny and horrifying in the same instant you need to fight the temptation to wink at your audience too much. Here the eye-lids never stop fluttering.**

Here's a link to a great blog discussion of Bad Timing. Enjoy.

http://alsolikelife.com/shooting/2009/04/966-108-bad-timing-1980-nicholas-roeg/

~CD

Another Recent Read

Bardot, Deneuve, Fonda: My Life with the Three Most Beautiful Women in the World. Roger Vadim. 1987.
What a guilty pleasure this was! This kiss 'n' tell by film director Roger Vadim is funnest, for me, when he's not describing bedroom antics so much as the European filmmaking environment of the 50's, 60's, and 70's. Vadim claims that he wrote this to set the record straight for his children and grandchildren--so there would be something to counter the other biographies, news-stories, and general gossip. Still, he comes across as a chauvinist whose narcissism (at times I wondered if he was even sociopathic) makes for a sick but enjoyable read (in a seedy, Eurotrashy sort of way). Best if read out loud with a thick French accent and Serge Gainsbourg's Comic Strip playing in the background. And a pack of Gaulois cigs on your bedside table. **

Here's a link to a discussion of the book and of Vadim et al. Quite an interesting site. I'll put it on my blogroll: http://www.2blowhards.com/archives/001948.html.

Au revoir,

~CD

Recent Reads

The Blunderer. Patricia Highsmith. 1956.
One of the earlier Highmiths and a decent companion, of sorts, to Strangers on a Train. It involves a wife murderer (undiscovered) and a man who "stalks" him, in a manner, and fantasizes about being a wife murderer himself. As with Strangers, the tense relationship between the two men drives the narrative into the strange, cruel world one expects in a Highsmith psychological thriller. I'll admit that I found this to be one of her lesser efforts--gripping at times, certainly, but also tediously bogged down by the main character's foibles and witless behavior. However, I always love the Highsmith "plain-style" of writing--spare prose, studded with gritty details and precise descriptions. ***

Famous Last Words. Timothy Findley. 1987.
A hugely entertaining historical fiction made up of multi-layered narratives and featuring an impressive cast of characters (including Ezra Pound, Ernest Hemingway, Edward VIII, Wallis Simpson, von Ribbentrop, Charles Lindbergh, Hitler, and Rudolph Hess). The plot concerns the rise of Italian and German fascism and the various fascist sympathizers in European high society. What's more, Findley throws in a cabal of behind the scenes Euro power-brokers who go by the codename "Penelope," a kind of Priory of Sion who plans to use the fascists as a scourge to scrub Europe clean before setting up their own pan-European Emporer and Empress--the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. Most of the story is told from the point of view of Hugh Selwyn Mauberley--Ezra Pound's fictional character (here a real guy: a wonderful move!), a fascist sympathizer who turns against "Penelope" and pays the consequences. All in all, a real tour de force. ***1/2


Solar. Ian McEwan. 2010.
McEwan's latest about a Nobel Prize winning physicist who plagiarizes from a newly dead protege to keep himself relevant. The story follows his tumultuous love-affairs (five wives and countless lovers) and his rotten business dealings and pathetic post-Nobel professional life. He's a rotter in almost every respect--selfish, hypocritical, cruel, and amoral. He outdoes himself when he frames one of his wife's lovers for the murder of another of his wife's lovers! Yes, this is a comedy--and at some points it is laugh outloud funny--but it's hard to spend time with this character and not feel a little slimy yourself. As usual, however, McEwan's writing is flawless. What does it mean that you keep reading simply because the book is so well-written? ***

Recently Viewed: Julie & Julia, Sherlock Holmes, Il grido

Julie and Julia. Nora Ephron. 2009.

The praise heaped upon Meryl Streep for her astonishing portrayal of Julia Child in this film is well-deserved. I am in awe of her ability to thoroughly inhabit this character both inwardly and outwardly. What a joy to see this! And to see her play off that wonderful stalwart Stanley Tucci, portraying Paul Child. Unfortunately, as every reviewer has noted and as I will also, the rest of the film just doesn't amount to much. Amy Adams is Julie Powell, a woman who, in an effort to shake off a premature (from my view) middle-aged funk, decides to cook and blog about, over the course of a year, every one of Child's dishes featured in her seminal cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking. The film pops between Powell's personal struggles and victories and Child's, but in the end you can't help but see Powell's side of the film as a sketchy framework for presenting Child's--for otherwise the two simply have no reason, other than the blog (an interesting challenge, but in the end a stunt), to be brought together. Frankly, I think the filmmakers lost their nerve. The real story here is something along the lines of Amadeus: the identity crisis that ensues when the mediocre encounter the monumental. ***** (for Streep and Tucci) otherwise, **

Sherlock Holmes. Guy Ritchie. 2009.

Oh Lord. When I first saw this advertized I cringed--and with good reason, apparently. I was afraid Guy Ritchie would do what he could only do--he'd make Holmes into a Guy Ritchie character. And he did. He's taken the crackling eccentricities of the character (presented, tolerably, in the person of Robert Downey, Jr.), thrown in a bit of Brad Pitt (from Snatch) and Jason Statham (from nearly all his movies) and concocted a Holmes who feels like one part Batman, one part Heathcliffe, and one part Rain Man. But not only that, he's placed him in a CGI Victorian London (all Brunelian oversized chains and smoggy city-scapes) and entangled him in a cabalistic conspiracy plot reminiscent of Dan Brown. Look, I appreciate iconoclasm and revisionism to an extent--but don't fuck with Sherlock Holmes! He isn't a Guy Ritchie character transported back in time. He's enough as he is: Conan Doyle's creation wasn't a 21st century bundle of nerves with martial arts training. Watson is capably played by Jude Law (nice to see him supporting for once), but that's about the only bright spot I found in this grey, bloated film. **

Il grido (The Outcry). Michelangelo Antonioni. 1957.

Here's an Antonioni film I had only seen half of, and it's taken me several years to get back around to seeing it again. This is often viewed as the transitional film between MA's early more melodramatic stories (though steeped in Italian neo-realism) and his middle period alienation films. Having seen most of the former and all of the latter, I'd put it closer to the latter--I might go so far as to say it's clearly one with them. We could draw a line right from Il grido to Red Desert quite easily, I think, and call it all MA's alienation quintilogy (quintet?). But does the prevalence of a theme really make a coherent, 5 part whole? (meh...) The film features rugged American cowboy/gangster star Steve Cochran (way out of type--but excellent) as Aldo, a hapless refinery worker who breaks up with his cheating girlfriend, Alida Valli (who's already born his child, now a 7 year-old), and leaves town to become an itinerant worker. For part of the journey, the girl, Rosina, is with him, and his episodic misadventures in employment, romance, and parenting make up the bulk of the film. Very reminiscent of de Sica's The Bicycle Thieves and Fellini's La Strada, Il grido focuses on the alienation of a dispossessed and marginalized man, but refuses to fully sympathize with him as he is clearly responsible for a fair amount of the misery he lives in. He's a victim of a one-two punch: on one hand, he's guided by outmoded philosophies and brutal machismo, but on the other he's ill-prepared (by a kind of self-sabotage) for the hard realities of Italy's post-war economic reconstruction. All in all it's a devastating portrayal of the ways people aid the powers that be in bringing about their own defeat. ***1/2

Ciao,

~CD

Vaux's Swifts

Last Saturday night we went to the Chapman school on 25th and Pettygrove in Portland to see the Vaux's swifts come in to roost in the chimney. This is an annual ritual here in PDX: this particular species of swift will find, during its autumn migration, a safe roosting place en masse--usually a hollow tree, but in this case, a tall chimney. They come in by the thousands at sunset. After filling the skies in the vicinity of the school for a couple hours, they start to work their way down towards the chimney in great whirling funnels, cylinders, and ribbons. At last they start to descend down into the chimney to find a roosting spot, sometimes flapping back out for another go. But by dark, they're all in. Hundreds of people gather on the school's lawn to watch this spectacle (along with a hungry hawk or two), which happens every night for about the entire month of September. When chillier temperatures arrive, the swifts begin to move further south. (Credit goes to Steve Warner and Portland Upside for the photo above.)

Read about this amazing phenomenon here: http://audubonportland.org/local-birding/swiftwatch

Take a look at this video of Vaux's Swifts roosting in a Eugene, Oregon, chimney. It's exactly what you'll see at Chapman school, but this particular footage is so outstanding that I had to link you to it: http://www.formula1movies.com/video/1TT07lAdNaM/Thousands-of-Vaux-s-Swifts-Roost-in-Eugene-OR.html

And enjoy this artist's rendering of the scene (second row down); I must say he captures the mysterious beauty of it well: http://www.flickr.com/photos/32310833@N06/page5/

Adios,
~CD

Boardwalk Empire and some Articles

I watched the debut episode of Boardwalk Empire yesterday, HBO's new gangster drama about the life and times of Enoch "Nucky" Thompson, an Atlantic City kingpin. I'd read great things about it and was looking forward to it immensely. Perhaps it had been a bit over-sold: I liked it, but felt it didn't take me any place especially new as far as mob stories are concerned. But perhaps that's because we've been saturated with mob stories over the last 50 years and there literally isn't any place new for the genre to go. Once we've visited the whole spectrum, from Mean Streets to the Sopranos, it all just seems like a retread. Steve Buscemi is a new take on an old type--he's hardly the "heavy" one expects--but even so, I'm not sure he has the gravity for the part of Nucky. I'll keep watching, however, and perhaps it'll suck me in. Lord knows True Blood has, so you know I haven't too high of a threshold!

Here are a few cool articles I've recently read. One on the much maligned but undervalued technique of rote memorization: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/19/magazine/19fob-medium-heffernan-t.html?_r=1, one on how a burglarized writer tracked down the thief via the internet: http://www.salon.com/life/life_stories/index.html?story=/mwt/feature/2010/09/20/tracked_down_my_thief, and one on what happens to the libraries of famous authors after they die: http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2010/09/19/lost_libraries/?page=full.

Enjoy!
~CD

Them Two

Here's a link to an excellent three-part article on the songwriting partnership between John Lennon and Paul McCartney: http://www.slate.com/id/2267342/entry/2267343/.

Just thought I'd throw it on here because I found it so damned interesting. I do realize that so much has been written about these two that many might just roll their eyes at such a thing: "Oh, another one about how John was edgy and Paul was all glitter, great." But, in fact, it goes well beyond such simple equations--even refuting them to a large degree. Read it and see. For me, it was just fun to read an intelligent, nuanced analysis of the ins and outs of the creative process. The writer, Joshua Shenk, really gets it.

Enjoy.
~CD

Going Coastal

We went coastal a couple weeks ago, meaning, of course, that we paid a weekend visit to the Oregon coast. We stayed in Newport, one of my favorite coast destinations (been going there since the 80's). We stayed our first night at The Waves Motel (not recommended) and then driven by mildew, a lack of an elevator, safety issues, and general shabbiness we spent our second night at the Greenstone across the street. Much better--clean, new, tasteful, pleasant views, covered parking, and an elevator. And it didn't cost too many $ more.

We met my friend Lynn Jeffress and ate at Local Ocean, a newish place down on the waterfront. Clearly the best restaurant in town--everything's fresh (purchased from the marina each morning), the place is always packed, and it's very family friendly. Ian fell asleep on my shoulder and stayed there the whole meal (he'd had a big day at the beach!). We also enjoyed Panini's for coffee and morning treats and Nana's, an Irish restaurant/pub with fabulous authentic Irish breakfasts.

All in all it was a low-key trip. We mostly went to see Lynn, frolic on the beach with Ian, see the Oregon Aquarium, and enjoy the Labor Day weekend. Great weather too. Here are some pics:

Ian found a kelp "whip":

...and he and Lynn decided to make a jump-rope out of it:

At first, I was a little uncertain but then thought, What the heck!:

Oh...umm...er...

Oh yeah, I still got it!:

Here's K and Ian at the old Yaquina Bay lighthouse (K looking fabulous if I do say so myself):

Here they are at the front of the lighthouse:

And here they are at the back of the lighthouse:

And here's the Spanish Inq--no, I mean Ian and I gazing at the waves. He had just warned me that I was starting to get red (sunburned) on the place where my "hair is missing":

You ate sand?

We ate sand:

Adios.

~CD

August Round-up

A round-up of bloggolicious things that have gone down lately:

Saw the B-52's at the zoo on August 13th. We sat on blankets on the lawn waaay in the back. We occasionally caught glimpses of the band. Ian and his friend Jackson (and his parents) were all on hand. We had a moderately good time. The band played more of their latter-day offerings than the stuff I was familiar with, that is, the first couple albums. But it was definitely fun to hear "Planet Claire," "Rock Lobster," and "Private Idaho" live. I can also now check-off the list another band I never had the chance to see in their prime. (Along with The English Beat, Squeeze, and The Knitters.)

Discovered the 19th century Brazilian writer Machado de Assis. The proprietor of Post-Hip CD's (and Books) in Multnomah Village gave a me a copy of Dom Casmurro for free, telling me I simply had to read it. I loved it and read Epitaph for a Small Winner soon after. Great tragicomedy of the Flaubertian variety, with a strong dash of Laurence Sterne. How did I grow up not knowing this writer? I can see a little more clearly now where some of the 20th century South American writers drew their inspiration.

On Aug. 22 I went up to Lake Coeur d'Alene for, probably, the last time this season. Met my brother Scott and my poet friend Tod Marshall (see "You Should Know About" for details) for a day of fishing in CDA, Lake Chatcolet, and up the St. Joe river a bit. Caught a fair number of Kokanee (land-locked sockeye salmon) and a few pan-fish. Scott smoked the Kokanee and, boy, were they good on a bagel with cream-cheese. Here's some pics.

Beautiful Rockford Bay, Lake Coeur d'Alene:

Our trusty fishing boat:

A moose chomping on reeds at the mouth of the St. Joe River at Lake Chatcolet:

Our harvest: smoked Kokanee. Note the bagel. Note the coffee cup: it's been in the family for nearly fifty years.

Alas, September is now here, and with it come late summer rains. Sniff.

But here's something perfect: Alan Greenspan's reaction in an interview to a question asking if Stan Getz playing sax at the age of 15 was really so good as to discourage Greenspan from seeking a career as a jazz musician:

"Oh, my God."

Here's the link to the fascinating little curio I found that in: http://www.stangetz.net/world_financial_crisis.htm

~CD

Recently Viewed

Red Desert (1964). Directed by Michelangelo Antonioni. I've seen this several times over the years, but never had the opportunity to watch it so carefully as now in this new Criterion release. Monica Vitti (who else?) is Giuliana, the mentally unstable wife of an Italian industrialist; with an emotionally challenging son, a caring but unperceptive husband, superficial friends, and a new lover in her life (Richard Harris), she's barely keeping it together. The strange industrial environment she inhabits is the perfect backdrop to communicate her alienation. Antonioni's cinematography, color palate, eerie sound effects, and location shooting are what's really on display here. He creates a film which often seems more interested in what the smokestacks are doing than the people standing next to them. Yet, that's part of the theme, I think, and one which is present in the other great films of the quartet--especially L'eclisse. He keeps the people and their environment in an uneasy balance, and often the background threatens to eclipse the characters. *****

Les Carabiniers (1963). Directed by Jean Luc Godard. Two hapless peasants go off to war to win the riches of the world. They come home to the women-folk after months of carnage with their earnings: a box full of postcards depicting the pyramids, the Statue of Liberty, and every other "wonder of the world". Godard's anti-war, anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist, anti-movie movie is probably one of his lesser ones. Or perhaps it's just a bit dated. It's a thin fable, in my opinion, and the sort of thing that William Klein, among others, would do much better later in the decade. **1/2

Walkabout (1971). Directed by Nicolas Roeg. One of Roeg's best films (for me, just a click under Don't Look Now), it concerns a teenage girl (Jenny Agutter) and her little brother who end up lost in the Australian outback after their deranged father attempts to murder them. They struggle for survival until, by chance, they meet a young Aborigine (David Gulpilil) on his "walkabout"--a rite of passage not unlike a Native American "vision quest". They befriend each other and the boy assists them in finding food and water and, eventually, civilization again (although what that words means in this conext is difficult to know). This being a Roeg film, much more happens, of course, and all of it is brought to us in a visual feast. However, the location shooting in the outback is front and center here: its vibrancy, its mystery, its awesomeness, and its danger are all communicated beautifully. Roeg's semi-linear style, his use of jarring juxtapositions and powerful objective correlatives serve the story well. A great film. *****

~CD

Cue The Stranglers...

A couple weeks ago on a hot Saturday, we went peach picking on Sauvie Island (Sauvie Island Farms). We picked 30 lbs. of peaches which K and her mom canned the next day. Here are some pics to document the fun we had.

Luscious fruit:

G'ma with a good un. K in the background in classic pregnant lady pose:

Box of peaches at the edge of the orchard:


Ready for the pickin':

Glowing in the shadows:

Nothing better:

~CD