essentialsaltes: (Laika)
Raise your hand if you knew that Jodie Foster voiced Pugsley Addams in the 1973 animated series.

And while I'm on the subject...
(Skip to 0:50 for the impatient.)
essentialsaltes: (Nowtheysmell)
Just saw Lonely are the Brave. Gena Rowlands briefly steals the film ("Believe you me, if it didn't take men to make babies I wouldn't have anything to do with any of you!") but the true standout performance is...
Read more... )
essentialsaltes: (Dancing legs)
Vile Bodies is a savage indictment of modernity and the 'Bright Young Things' [Waugh's original title, discarded because it had already become cliché by 1930] that populate it. Of course, being English, savage means that it's slightly more scathing than PG Wodehouse at lampooning the characters, most of whom come from a world just next door to Bertie Wooster's, albeit a sadder and seamier one. There are some hilarious bits here and there, but overall not fantastic. Skip the book and check out Steven Fry's film adaptation, under the original title. It's also hilarious in bits, and overall not fantastic, but it will save you some time.
essentialsaltes: (Jimi)
CA court rules that yoga (as practiced in this public school district) is not religious.

In other yoga-related news, we saw Kumaré last night (streaming on Netflix, get it while it's hot) and enjoyed it quite a bit, even if the star/filmmaker is a bit of a jerk.

Joisey-raised Indian American is disenchanted with his religious heritage, and annoyed by the proliferation of yoga in modern America, and the skeevy culture-appropriating fake fakirs and gurus. Travels to India, and concludes that the authentic fakirs, gurus, and sadhus are all fake too.

Comes up with the idea of becoming a fake guru, documenting it, and seeing how easy it is to get people to swallow his empty baloney, so he can end up with a huge Nelson Muntz laugh at the end.

Succeeds all too well. People start confiding their marital problems, past history of sexual abuse, and other problems to him. He gets a bit weirded out. Hot young women in yoga pants make adoring googoo eyes at him. So it ain't all bad.

Slowly, his mission transforms into getting his devoted core of followers to rely on themselves. The insincere fake guru has become a sincere fake guru, or maybe not even fake any more. It's just that his main message is, "I'm not special. You can give yourself this life advice. There are no gurus, or everyone is a guru." Several scenes are virtually identical to this:



My main beef with the filmmaker is that by the end he seems to have convinced himself that this was his mission all along, when the earlier scenes make it clear he wanted to trick people and lay that Muntz-laugh on them.

Anyway, he works himself up to 'The Unveiling', in which he will reveal the truth to his disciples. He chickens out, but manages to do it after he's gone back to his regular life for a time (maybe because the docu would suck without a proper ending). A few of the disciples flee and never speak to him again, but the majority still appreciate what they'd learned, and some, in true When Prophecy Fails-mode continue to believe that he has psychic powers.
essentialsaltes: (Nowtheysmell)
Argo last night. Cloud Atlas tonight.

Both excellent.

Since I have it on the brain... Argo is more like The Last of Us. Doesn't break any new ground. The story is... well, history (accentuated). But it does it all very very well, and compellingly.

Cloud Atlas is... I dunno, LA Noire? Trying to do something different... out of the box... possibly not entirely successfully. Sure it's based on a novel. And believe me, I was glad I had read it, though Dr. Pookie seemed to get along fine without a several hundred page cheat sheet.

As with the novel, I still think the separate stories don't really add up to anything much greater, though I think the screenplay actually makes some of the thematic connections in the novel stronger, primarily because of the different way the chronology is interleaved. The film tends to cycle through them all, allowing it to have the thematic and dramatic twists and conclusions of different stories side by side, accentuating their similarities.

I think my favorite section of the sextet in the novel is "An Orison of Sonmi~451", but the film version, though entertaining in exactly the right way to get Hollywood producers' coffers open, is a poor substitute. Then again, it might be hard to accurately film a 22nd century Bildungsroman written in the form of an interrogation.

The film has been criticized for its use of yellowface, but given all the whiteface, brownface, penisface and vaginaface in the film, not to mention the peculiar nature of the story, I can't find too much fault in it. So sue me.

Which is all to say that I think conversation about Argo (last week or ten years from now) will be "Great film!" "Great film!" and no more (and kudos to all). But conversations about Cloud Atlas may be longer and more full of meat.

Even if the whole goddamn thing doesn't mean anything much more than...

Don't be schmucks to each other!

Maxicon

May. 27th, 2013 03:50 pm
essentialsaltes: (Nowtheysmell)
Twas Maxicon and the slithy toves did gyre and role-play in Santa Clarita.

I showed up for just Sunday, and despite aggravation on the 405 (incidentally, it was only recently I learned that people in other benighted regions of the world look askance at the local usage of 'the' 405 or 5 or what have you.) I made it there with time enough to fret fitfully until my game was up: Movie Mashup. I promised that characters from various movies I liked would interact in situations drawn from other movies. I had some grand idea, but in the full light of day I later discovered that it just didn't work, but I managed to put together something that at least provided some light amusement.

Starting in the cantina in Mos Eisley, our six protagonists turned out to be Jake and Elwood Blues, Willy Wonka, Tank Girl, The Dude, and Dante Hicks. They were approached by some farmers in black & white outfits... er, rather, they were entirely in B&W (as was Dante). Their village was under attack by bandits, and they were in search of Seven Samurai to protect them. They agree and join the fourth Samurai, who, being a droid, had to wait outside the cantina.

On their way to the Maltese Falcon, they were accosted by a bounty hunter in robes and a mask with a phased plasma rifle in a 40 watt range. It turned out to be Princess Leia, who had a few words for Jake: "You contemptible pig! I remained celibate for you. I stood at the back of a cathedral, waiting, in celibacy, for you, with three hundred friends and relatives in attendance. My uncle hired the best Corellian caterers in the state. To obtain the seven limousines for the wedding party, my father used up his last favor with Mad Pete Trullo. So for me, for my mother, my grandmother, my father, my uncle, and for the common good, I must now kill you, and your brother."

While Captain Sam Spade and Navigator Joel Cairo got the Maltese Falcon off the planet, they soon ran into problems since the planet they were approaching was "an ugly planet; a Bug planet! A planet hostile to life as we know it!"

Shot down by bug butt cannons, our heroes tried to get into the escape pod. Except Willy Wonka, who figured with fizzy lifting drink he could just evacuate himself into space and come to no harm. The rest had some problems opening the escape pod door when HAL decided, "I'm afraid I can't do that, Jake." But fortunately, Tank Girl was around to draw an ass on the door and kick that ass.

On the planet, the were saved by Rico's Roughnecks and finally made it to the village, where some piss-poor plans were made for defense, while Tank Girl and Jake Blues had a threesome with one of the local Japanese maidens washing clothes at the riverbank.

Eventually sleep came, but they woke up in color in a Mexican village that had gotten its seven gunslingers to protect it against bandits. Tank Girl takes out most of Calvera's bandits. But that's not the only threat. A new army was brewing to wipe out the town with a whoopin' and a hollerin'. But The Blues Brothers (accompanied by somewhat less expert musicians) put on a pretty good show that soften the hearts of the Klansmen, cholos, and other reprobates waiting to be inducted into the army by Hedley Lamarr. Tank Girl succeeded in stealing Hedley's froggy.

A bit later, Mongo is foiled, not initiallu by Willy Wonka's candygram, but digging deep Mr. Wonka emerged victorious.

Then Governor Vizzini appeared. 'You have defeated Hedley Lamarr, so you must have studied. You have defeated my giant, so you must be very strong. Now you must beat me in a battle of wits....'

Tank Girl challenged him to a game of Battleship, which she managed to win. Rather than pushing them all through the Matrix or Toontown, I decided this was a good place to stop. It was a short game, but I think it was good light entertainment. Brian was good enough to run a mini game based on some of the remaining characters I had, and then we wandered away to have some time to mingle and schmooz with folks.

Got to sneak in some Rock Band, and then it was time for Aaron's run of Dockside Dogs, a Cthulhu adventure that riffs off of Reservoir Dogs, written by the same bloke who wrote Gatsby and the Great Race. I can't say much without spoilers, but it was entertaining that basically the other characters were the most dangerous things on the scene.

After that broke up, I said my goodbyes and made a rapid return home.
essentialsaltes: (Nowtheysmell)
OK, having done what I can to replace my tapes or send them into oblivion, I offer the following tapes up for grabs to a loving home (preferably a nearby home whose occupant can obtain said tape in an orderly fashion at some point in the not too distant future, or arrange for some other means of hand-offage). I will entertain more distant offers, especially if postage bribes are offered.

Comment to claim your dibs. For timestamp purposes, LJ comments have priority over other modes of contact, even though this is simulcast in a couple places. I'll do my best to order the times fairly if there are conflicts.

-Little Women (version with Susan Sarandon, Winona Ryder, and Christian Bale) - this one actually has a modest amount of sentimental attachment, as Dr. Pookie won this VHS from the Daily Bruin in a contest. IIRC, she created sortofa pop-up book Winona Ryder who tore her bodice off when you pulled a tab in kindofa Little Women/Bram Stoker's Dracula cross-over.
-The Hunger, with quite a bit more of Susan Sarandon, as well as David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve.
-The Tale of a Vampire w/ Julian Sands
-Interview with the Vampire w/ Tom Cruise
-Mission Impossible w/ Tom Cruise
-Evil Dead
-Nat Lamp's Christmas Vacation
-Who Am I? w/Jackie Chan
-The Doors w/Val Kilmer
-Pulp Fiction
-Treasure of Sierra Madre
-Lone Star
-Demolition Man

-Betty Boop (60 minuts - 9 cartoons)
-Betty Boop: The Definitive Collection Vol. 2 - Pre-Code (108 minutes - 14 cartoons, and the closest you'll ever get to seeing Betty's tits. If it wasn't for that damned lei! Mustabeen toupee glue.)

-The Testament of Dr. Mabuse
-The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
-The Phantom of the Opera (1925 with Chaney Sr.)
-Nosferatu (1922)

-Victor Borge Great Comedy Performances
-New Yoga w/ Kathy Smith
-Molly Fox's Yoga

DIBBED:
-Real Genius w/Val Kilmer - alex victory
essentialsaltes: (Nowtheysmell)
Wandering through the public domain, overly digitally compressed, 5 DVD set of 50 Mystery Classics that I got for $0.50 at a garage sale... to identify the worst yellowface, in my opinion.

Bad: Peter Lorre as Mr. Moto in Mr. Moto's Last Warning. As a film, the best of the three (ok, the only one I watched to the end) but still, it's... Peter Lorre being Peter Lorre with glasses and partially blacked out teeth. Possibly worse was George Sanders pretending to be French, or maybe Italian... I'm still not sure which.
Worse: Boris Karloff as Mr. Wong in Mr. Wong: Detective. It's... Boris Karloff.
Worst: Bela Lugosi as the bad guy in The Mysterious Mr. Wong. It's... Bela Lugosi. Y'know... Hungarian is barely related to other European languages, much less any Asian ones. I dare you to summon the suspension of disbelief required to make this less than hideously jarring.
(Not in the running, but still the all-time worst: Mickey Rooney in Breakfast at Tiffany's.)

In my mind (if nowhere else) there's some sort of sliding scale of year vs. caricature that regulates my opinion of these things. Peter Sellers as Charlie Chan Sidney Wang in Murder by Death may be later than Breakfast at Tiffany's, but it's still not as bad. I mean, Yunioshi (Rooney's role) is a minor part in the film. Even in these low-budget low-brow films from the 30's & 40's, bit parts could be played by actual Asian people. Speaking of which... hello, Lotus Long:


Milo Perrier: What do you make of all of this, Wang?
Sidney Wang: Is confusing.
Lionel Twain: [from moose head] IT! IT is confusing! Say your goddamn pronouns!
...
Sidney Wang: Oh, there, voice come from cow on wall...
Lionel Twain: Moose, moose you imbecile!

The Hobbit

Dec. 15th, 2012 09:50 am
essentialsaltes: (Nazgul)
Due to smaug's great generosity, I played hooky from work and went to see The Hobbit with some friends. It strays more from the story than even the LotR films, but since I love the source material less, I was filled with less outrage. It's long, but I didn't find that it dragged at all. However, some of the interpolations of backstory and sidestory definitely detract from the flow of telling the story of our title character.

Things to like:
#1) The riddle scene. Well executed, and a good integration of Serkis' Gollum schtick from LotR into the scene. Glad they kept most of the riddles, but my favorite was evidently left on the cutting room floor:

Alive without breath,
As cold as death;
Never thirsty, ever drinking,
All in mail never clinking


#2) The songs. Many (maybe all) of the songs are retained. They never sound like they do in my imagination, but I'll forgive them (this time) since I could not imagine something as interesting as the film's dwarven barbershop duodecet.

#3) The beautiful look of gold coins spilling about in Smaug's hoard. The hoard is impossibly big, but it glows and clinks and pours loverly.

Things to dislike:
#1) The uneven tone. The book is a much lighter adventure than LotR, and the fusion that they've done veers erraticly from intense to the very threshold (if not beyond) of camp. The horrifyingly comical Radagast has no point being in the same movie as the Witch King of Angmar, much less the same scene. [Incidentally, parents should note the PG-13 rating, and stick with the Rankin/Bass Hobbit until their kids are ready for beheadings galore.]

#2) This one goes to eleven. The faint allusion to mountain giants in the book is expanded into something ridiculous. My mind just refuses to accept it. As with a scene where the party is hurtling down into the caverns on a wooden platform -- my brain looks at the speed of their descent and told me, "They're all dead." Also, the episode when the party is treed has been ramped up. Etc. Etc. If you thought the collapsing staircase scene in Moria was gratuitous and unbelievable (and it is), The Hobbit has at least three scenes that are worse on that score.
essentialsaltes: (Cthulhu)
Shambling Towards Hiroshima is kind of an odd duck, even coming from a guy who wrote about a two mile long dead Jehovah floating in the Atlantic. But where some of his other books tackle some mighty big questions in a mighty amusing and thoughtful manner, Shambling only nudges up against the big question of the atomic bombs dropped on Japan. Mostly, it's a lighthearted romp, as the Navy turns to the Hollywood monster movie makers to help out on a secret project involving weaponized iguanas of unusual size. It's nice to see fictionalized Willis O'Briens, James Whales, and the like coming along for the ride. It does turn less wacky at the end, since it's hard to derive a good belly-laugh from the hibakusha. Unfortunately, that turn doesn't work very well. Not that I'm averse to having my romp taking a turn for the dark -- and it's not like it comes outta nowhere, since there are not too many degrees of separation between radiation and some of those early kaiju films, starring Men in Suits -- but that it isn't done very effectively in the story. It is largely told, not shown -- coming out of the mouth of a character, rather than forming an integral part of the novel. Nevertheless, very enjoyable as a quick, quirky read.


Also, Morrow makes an egregious error (ok, maybe it's just the narrator who is unreliable) when he says the source material for The Haunted Palace is Lovecraft's Colour Out of Space, rather than The Case of Charles Dexter Ward.


I stumbled on an essay by Morrow about the book, and find myself half-lamenting that I don't live in the alternate universe in which his first idea was completed:
As my wife and I walked out of the lamentable Roland Emmerich version of Godzilla, I turned to her and said, “You know, even in degraded form, it’s still a potent myth. I’m going to try doing something with it myself.”

So I went home and outlined a novel called What Rough Beast, which I never wrote. According to my notes, Godzilla travels to Washington DC in 1995 to inspect the controversial Enola Gay exhibition at the Smithsonian Institute, his intention being to incinerate the city unless the curators prove willing to acknowledge certain political, military, and human truths about Hiroshima.



Yeats, fer Crissakes. Read a book!
essentialsaltes: (Larpies)

(awesome 3D photo by Mark Spieckerman)

Zipped down, parked, and then walked under the blazing sun to the brunch. Enjoyed the effort that went into the benediction. I shot some video of our High Priest doing his own riff on "Imagine", but it didn't turn out so hot, alas. Hello, the Future occurred. Next were the author readings. I drew the short straw and went first. I think it went reasonably well, but nerves are an issue. My idea of performance is to peck away at a keyboard in the safety of my own home, with no one around. But I got a couple nice comments about the reading, so I'll say it went well enough. Denise Dumars and Bryan Thao Worra are much better at working a crowd. I think my favorite reading was Denise's poem "EVP".

Then we had our panel, and the above were joined by Cody, Skipp and artist Mike Dubisch. We bandied 'cosmic horror' about, and I think it was really a high point of the brunch. At least for me. People who know their shit had some complementary and contradictory discourse about Lovecraft in the modern age. I said some things that charitable people would consider profound.

During the subsequent schmoozing, I got to make the acquaintance of about-to-be-honored Michael Reaves, who I have just now learned shares my birthday. I started off on the wrong foot, since I was unaware that he suffers from Parkinson's. Production of speech is difficult for him, but through the good graces of his daughter Mallory (whom I know tangentially via Wyrd Con, of all things) we had a good conversation. He was a bit miffed, I think, that we on the panel had not mentioned his script for The Real Ghostbusters. I fell back on the very true statement that it hadn't yet screened at the fest.
Welcome to the beginning of the films )
essentialsaltes: (Cthulhu)
Click through for a couple more pictures.
Marquee & line @ the Warner Grand

First of all, Day Two is today. Come on down.

I got home from work and had a brief moment to greet wife and cats. Cats were unimpressed; wife was slightly more impressed, but preoccupied by creating a certain something for the Sunday LARP/scavenger hunt at the festival: The Lash of St. Francis.

Then to fight the freeways during Son of Carmaggedon. Not really affecting my route, but people were still slightly crazier than usual. Anyway, got there safe and sound.

Waved hello to a couple folks, and then first up, a feature (premiere even!) of The Thing on the Doorstep. It was really quite good. So good that it reaches a level of good where I start to get more critical, but I'll forgo that. I liked the very psychological take on the interplay between Derby, Upton, Asenath, and Upton's wife. I think the movie would also play reasonably well with an audience with no knowledge of the story. Alrighty, I'll utter one really trivial quibble. I've always considered Edward Pickman Derby's name to be pronounced UK-style: "Darby". Maybe that's just me. It's not like this filled me with rage or anything. Made me consider dusting off my own attempt at a screenplay adaptation of "Thing".

Next up, Macabre Fantasy Radio Theater. It was neat to see a gaggle of my friends get together to do "The Statement of Randolph Carter" with some live foley work and all. It was a bit of an experiment, but I think it came off great. There's kind of a strange oxymoronic feel to watching a radio show being performed, but it's interesting to see how much a cheap little sound effect can help fill the audio space. On the other hand, sometimes seeing the cheap (but authentic old time-y radio-y) sound effect made for unintentional humor. On the whole, I dug it, and the audience around me dug it.

Then the South Park Coon Trilogy, in which the foul mouthed little children ultimately meet Cthulhu. Cthulhu himself doesn't actually add much humor, but there are some hysterical bits here and there. The idea of Captain Hindsight (particularly his origin story as a TV reporter) is inspired. But the part I laughed at most was recognizing the Clockwork Orange sound cue, and knowing what had to come next.

That wrapped up the screenings, but then the die-hards migrated to the Whale and Ale pub, who were again kind enough to put up with our baloney. And here your narrator was slightly naughty. Frank Woodward ran a Lovecraft trivia game. And my table (David, Sarah, and Blake) joined up as team Gibbous (aka Lady Shaggaggath). Aaron was too late to stop us from taking prizes from deserving paying customers. Round One was relatively basic, and I think two teams had perfect scores. Round Two got much harder, and we missed at least a couple, though fortunately David came up with one ship from "The Call of Cthulhu" and I came up with the other. Round Three had some focus on film adaptations of Lovecraft, and Blake was able to provide the correct answer to a question about Castle Freak. Team effort! Uh, Sarah provided excellent high fives!

And thanks to all the sponsors who gave neat gifties for the top three teams, even if (as a 'ringer' in Aaron's parlance) I probably ought to have hid my light under a bushel. I swear, I think I have won a raffle at every HPLFF I've been to. I have resolved to sit on my hands if my number comes up in the future.

Unless I really really want that thing.
essentialsaltes: (City Hall)
"[The co-anchors and the weatherdude] all have the same Bacon number. What is it?"

a) 2
b) 3
c) 4
d) 5

Oh, and, being mid-September, it will be sunny and hot today.
essentialsaltes: (Cthulhu)
The HPL film festival is coming up in a couple weeks. Looks like a good line-up with everything from South Park and The Real Ghostbusters to a new feature adaptation of "The Thing on the Doorstep".

Saturday's events will start off with a 'Brunch 'n Fun' that will include both brunch and fun. This will include a reading of something or other by me. That's not likely to be fun, so it must be brunch.

I finished reading and rating the final four entries in the screenplay contest the other day. It'll be interesting to see what meets with the most favor among the judges. There are some very different takes on what 'Lovecraftian' might mean.

Click the image for tickets. If you bug me, I can get you a code for a discount.

essentialsaltes: (Nowtheysmell)
The Bad and the Beautiful (1952)

Why have I never even heard of this film before?

Kirk Douglas, Lana Turner. Unsentimental view of Hollywood. Great stuff.
essentialsaltes: (Agent)
Don't say I didn't warn you.

"The outer space greenhouse from the 1972 sci-fi film Silent Running inspired the interior design of Swedish broadband company Bahnhof's server bunker in downtown Stockholm, ... During the Cold War, the bunker was classified as a nuclear 'direct-hit-secure facility.'"

"Other movie sets from the time, like Bond villain Ernst Stavro Blofeld's lair in You Only Live Twice, influenced the design."
essentialsaltes: (essentialsaltes)
Went to an estate sale. Only thing I wanted was priced way too high for my blood. It was an actor directory put out by AMPAS in 1941, with little thumbnail headshots of hundreds of actors with phone numbers for their agents at the studios. The other interesting thing was overhearing a little snippet of conversation: "We were advised to throw all that stuff away because it was incriminating."
essentialsaltes: (Perill of Breakdancing)
Early today we discovered that the great plumbing fix of 2009 was only a temporary one. Current diagnosis is broken sewer pipe, requiring excavation and bookoo dinero.

Survived lunch with mom and the stepdad. He essayed one ill-considered jest concerning his testicles, but his pants never fell down and no n-words. So success!

Two thumbs up for Sleep Dealer. Not the Best. Movie. Ever. But very good and inventive, and it may have slipped under the radar.

Alas, it appears that the one day out of the year that I zip up the coast for Semicon West is Randy's Donuts' 60th anniversary... free donut on Wednesday, 11AM-2PM.
essentialsaltes: (Agent)
He's a Pakistani Muslim turned down by the NYPD for his belief that “homosexuals are criminals.”

He's a Hasidic Jew turned down by the NYPD for not trimming his beard to regulation length.

Together... They Fight Crime!

Profile

essentialsaltes: (Default)
essentialsaltes

May 2025

S M T W T F S
    123
456789 10
11121314151617
18192021222324
25262728293031

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 2nd, 2025 01:49 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios