Recent Posts
It is quietly surprising watching a film like 42nd Street. There was a time I hated musicals simply because I hated their lack of realism. By that, I dont mean I was upset about the way people suddenly began singing at inopportune moments. I sing at inopportune moments. I do it all the time. That wasnt the problem at all.
Im sure Holden Caulfield would have some god damn thing to say about how phoney that stuff was. Old Mrs Crabapple is going to close down the orphanage and sell the childrens ponies as dog food.
I know what we can do, Judy, the forty year old midget barks between puffs on his Havana cigar. We can put on a show.
Thank heavens we sorted that out. Now little rays of sunshine can once again beam down from heaven and fill our lives with joy and happiness. Or they will if that runaway truck doesnt ground the bones of our leading lady into dust.
Splat!
Judy, you just have to go and take her place. The orphans are counting on you.
But, Im a wheelchair bound cripple and Im tone deaf to boot.
Listen, a little music solves everything.
Was I just lazy as I watched these films on television? No. Actually a lot of them really were that bad. But then I watched Cabaret. Cabaret is a musical but it is barely a musical. It is set in a real world and features real people; people whose lives seemed as messy and tangled as real life tends to get.
Later, I saw West Side Story again and I realised it wasnt nearly as dumb and antiseptic as I had remembered it being. It was not just about love, it was about racism and poverty. Songs like America werent actually patriotic jingles. Okay, Id seen it before when I was about six so maybe the finer points had escaped me but it did make me wonder what else I was missing out on.
Id never actually seen 42nd Street until last night. If I told you the plot, it would stick out as a cliché but, at least in this case, the cliché started here. The cast are putting on a show. The star breaks her leg and a new star is born. (You probably know this plot from Showgirls.)
Okay, so theres nothing all that exciting there. There is, however, the kind of brilliant editing that upstarts think they are inventing. Busby Berkleys dance routines are exceptional in design and execution and should be watched by anyone with half an interest in visual design.
What amazes me, however, is the messiness of the characters lives. There is none of that nauseating wholesomeness that seemed to arrive in the late thirties and hung around for way too long afterwards. This is a Warner Brothers movie and it shares some of the same kind of grit they added to their Gangster fare. More importantly, the melodrama and banal show business smiles are undercut with razor sharp dialogue and a very dark cynicism. The shot of the director standing outside the theatre as he listens to the comments of the audience as they depart is quite shockingly bleak.
I enjoyed this film enormously which isnt bad considering it would now easily qualify for its pension.
1.
Lets start with a bang.
The human mind is an amazing thing. It processes a truly staggering amount of information and makes the kind of intuitive leaps no computer has yet succeeded in matching. A case in point would be the mental processes of one Jack Blessed, a particularly mild mannered accountant from Surrey in England. There are those who have gone so far as to refer to Jacks regime of intense organisation as being anally retentive. The truth is far worse than that. This was a man who kept a spirit level in the bathroom to ensure he hung his towels straight. Lets take a look into his brain and see.
Jack has just stood up to go to the bathroom. His fear of the unsanitary nature of public facilities has increased his level of anxiety to the point where his need to visit the bathroom has become quite pressing. He planned to hold on until he reached Florida but that was not to be. Arising from his seat, he is immediately disturbed by what he sees in the row of seats behind him.
What is that man doing? Hes got a cigarette lighter! You cant smoke on planes. Its not allowed. Besides, passive smoking has proven links with lung cancer. Lung cancer is the second biggest killer of males in the Western World though the numbers of fatalities are dropping thanks to improved treatments and vigorous anti smoking campaigns. There is also a marked rise in obesity that is giving rise to an increase in fatalities from other sources. Why is he trying to set fire to his shoe?
Shit, he said out loud. Jack did not swear often but he felt the situation warranted such language.
Explosive decompression is a myth. The differential pressure between the inside and outside of a plane at altitude is not sufficient to cause people to be sucked out through tiny holes like spaghetti. The truth is, commercial airliners have suffered massive hull breaches and continued on to their destination with only minimal loss of life. It is important to wear your seat belt at all times.
Jack had just enough time to wish he was wearing his seat belt before he left the plane prematurely and at speed.
Planes cruise at a height of at least five miles above the earth. It is cold at this altitude and you wouldnt want to live there. I am wearing a vest and cardigan because I find air conditioned environments unpleasantly chilly. The sudden drop in temperature I am feeling is merely bracing rather than life threatening.
The air is thin at this altitude and prolonged exposure would probably cause you to pass out. This is not the case as you fall from a plane. You find yourself moving into a more oxygen rich environment at speed. The falling human body quickly reaches a speed of around one hundred and twenty five miles per hour and wind resistance keeps it there. At that speed, it will take me about two and a half minutes to hit the ocean. It is unlikely I will pass out. Parachutists do this all the time and they dont pass out.
Jack wished he was not a virgin. He would have wished for many other things but the silence was rather awe inspiring. If not for the wind tearing at his clothes, he would swear that he was floating.
Youre deaf from the blast.
Jack heard the voice very clearly and wondered if there was such a thing as sudden onset schizophrenia that could be bought on - say - at times of traumatic stress. If there was ever a moment he wished he could lose his not so perilous grip on sanity, it was probably about now.
Its all right. Youre hearing will come back in a day or two but you may suffer some tinnitus in later life.
Jack turned to where the voice seemed to be coming from. This was no mean feat when youre falling through the air at two hundred kilometres an hour and have nothing to grip onto to assist your turn.
The figure beside him looked like he had just fallen off of a renaissance painting of cherubs. He had the blond curly hair and the beatific smile. The whole works.
Hi, Im Michael, the figure said with a rather annoying level of cheerfulness. Look, we dont have a lot of time so Im just going to have to plunge right in.
Michael looked at the ocean below and shrugged his shoulders.
No pun intended.
If Im deaf, why can I hear you?
Look, youre just going to have to trust me on that. We have far more pressing concerns.
They both looked down at the oncoming waters below. At this height, it didnt appear to be all that oncoming but Jack knew that would change fairly quickly.
Are you familiar with Matthew Chapter Four?
Jack suspended his disbelief just long enough to feel his heart sink. Two minutes to live and he was stuck with the God squad.
I know, I know. Religion really isnt your bag but who can blame you with the mess theyve made. Anyway, chapter Four concerns the temptation of Christ by the Devil. Verse five in particular states that if Gods son was falling, he would give orders to his angels to hold you up with their hands so that not even the soles of your feet would be hurt by the stones.
Jack had been subjected to enough Sunday school to have heard this tale. He was, however, somewhat confused by the use of the words you and your.
I seem to remember that Jesus didnt go for the deal.
Well, youre right. And, of course, you would be. But the reason Christ didnt jump was only because you are not supposed to test God. The theory of the angels coming to the rescue is fundamentally sound. The fact is, God had to hold the angels back at the crucifixion because we werent a happy bunch of campers.
Well, Jack said in a gallant bid to just go with the flow. That isnt going to help me any. Is it?
Well it could. Hear me out
I dont seem to have much of a choice.
True. The thing is we have about a minute before we hit the ground and that isnt very long to convince you that you are the Son of God.
Jack would have normally dismissed such an idea with an attempt at ridicule. He was never good at ridicule but he was British and felt the need to attempt sarcasm at least twice a day. It was buried deep within his genetic coding. However, as the icy waters of the Atlantic were fairly clearly oncoming at that point, Jack was ready to cut to the chase.
You mean to say that, if I believe I am the Son of God, a bunch of angels are going to come and rescue me?
Essentially. But its more like you are the great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grand son of God.
Jack knew a straw to clutch at when he saw it.
I can live with that, he said. And he did.
2.
It is said that patience is a virtue and Father Gregory considered himself a virtuous man. As the third pencil of the afternoon snapped between his fingers, his patience was coming into question. As to his virtues, Ill leave that to your own conclusion.
He was a short fat man who bore more than a passing resemblance to a bleached bean bag. Every day and long into the night, he sat in his basement office and did what had to be done. The church has always faced constant threat and Father Gregory has the job of taking care of these threats.
With extreme prejudice.
Some would laugh at the idea of a Catholic Black Ops unit working from within the bowels of the Vatican. There are, however, seventeen such groups. Well, as far as I know, there are seventeen such groups but, after the first dozen, who keeps count?
There have been recent reports that Opus Dei is responsible for carrying out most of the Churchs dirty work but that is simply not true. One thing history confirms is that, if you wear horse hair underwear and regularly scourge yourself, you are generally in too much discomfort to do all that much evil. The truth is that Father OConnell down the hall is responsible for placing clues that lay the blame for any misdeeds committed by any of these covert groups squarely at the feet of Opus Dei. This little ruse allows a kind of plausible deniability to any mad scheme the good Fathers come up with.
For example, booked onto a transatlantic flight today is one Mario Fulci, a long standing member of Opus Dei. By bizarre lack of coincidence, he was sat beside one Jack Blessed at the time of a terrible mid air explosion. The fact that Mario knew nothing in advance of the event would mean little to Internet conspiracy theorists if the churchs links to the explosion were ever detected. The church has always made the best of its sacrificial lambs.
Father Gregory stared at his phone and tried to will it to ring. Once again he felt a pencil snap between his fingers.
He threw the broken pencil at the bin on the other side of the room. He missed spectacularly, hitting only a completely different wall. Some would say he threw like a girl but any man who has been in a long term relationship knows that there is little weakness or inaccuracy when a woman throws something. There were times Father Gregory wondered if he had only joined the priesthood because of his incredible lack of sporting prowess. It certainly wasnt for the money or the sex.
He switched on CNN. Their news coverage was often faster than his own intelligence network even when his guys knew what was coming. He was tempted to say that you just cant get the staff these days but, clearly, CNN had.
As the screen faded up into life, the image Father Gregory saw did not please him in the slightest. An image captured on a mobile phone was already flashing its way around the world. It was an image that was so spectacular that they seemed to be showing it looped. The other news of the day had been quickly relegated to a text strip running across the bottom of the screen.
As if carried by the invisible arms of angels, Jack Blessed gently floated down onto the deck of the Queen of Sheba, the second largest luxury liner in operation today. Jack was greeted by a throng of unmarried Baptists out on a Christian Cruise of Love to the Holy Lands. There were ministers on call twenty four hours a day in case any of the passengers got the urge to get hitched. Three days out and already forty seven couples had taken the plunge and been united in Christ. Hallelujah!
That miracle had just been somewhat overshadowed.
3.
The American Secular Society for the Witnessing and Investigation of Paranormal Experiences has had its work cut out for itself since day one. Amazingly, despite the fact that the organisation was comprised of highly respected leaders in a variety of fields of science, none of its founding mothers or fathers spotted the glorious acronym ASSWIPES by which they would become less than affectionately known. All their press handouts, badges and tee-shirts may have read SWIPE but we all know what happens when a name fits.
For the last hour, the society had been under siege by the media for some comment concerning todays miracle. They could usually be relied upon to provide some tiresomely banal explanation to even the most seemingly inexplicable event. A flying saucer over New York? No, just a weather balloon at a high enough altitude that it still caught the rays of the sun even though the sun had set at ground level. A poltergeist in California? Merely long term settling of Earth over a fault line causing the movement of inanimate objects. A lactating statue of Ganesha in North West London? Humidity.
You get the picture. When there is something strange in your neighbourhood, who are you going to call? Well, whenever the image of the Virgin Mary appears on a hamburger bun near you, Swipe is on call with a suitable rational explanation. Today, they were just having problems finding that explanation.
For the last time, Martha Wayne sighed. She was frequently amazed at how stupid brainy people actually were.
It isnt digital alteration to the video image. There wouldnt be enough time to pull that off. This guy gets blown out of the plane and three minutes later hes on the deck of the ship. The video is transmitted to the news networks almost immediately.
Theres that word, Charles Kent snapped. Almost. Almost gives these God loving freaks enough time to pull any scam off.
Charles was merely pissed off because his rational explanation was full of holes but he didnt like to be proved wrong by anyone. He fought tenaciously to keep his theory and reputation alive. Martha was having none of it.
Im sorry, we cant run with that. Anyone who has ever tried to render an image will tell you how long it takes for one of those little blue bars to fill the box.
Robert Parker got to his feet and the room knew it was in trouble. When the physicists start wading in with their alternate universes and string and chaos theories, you might as well have a witch doctor step up to the rostrum to lecture on voodoo curses.
This is not an inexplicable event. It is merely an unlikely event. Just because gravity works one way almost all of the time, it is foolish to assume it will always work the same way. If there is a possibility, no matter how statistically improbable, given an infinite amount of time, that eventuality must occur. Besides, I think we can be fairly certain that in all the other alternate universes this guy hit the poop deck like a blob of strawberry jam.
Martha raised her eyes to the ceiling before she spoke in reply.
This is exactly the reason why you never take your car to a Quantum Mechanic when it breaks down. Hell just stare at it because he thinks hes influencing the problem just by looking at it and therefore there is always the possibility that the car will fix itself.
4.
Jack took great comfort in the hum of the ships engines. His hearing had returned, he was safely tucked into a warm bed and the gentle rocking motion of the boat allowed him to drift in and out of half sleep. It had, after all, been a very big day.
At first, he mistook the glow for the rising sun. He closed his eyes against it but it still registered at the back of his head. Try as he might, he could not fight the inevitable.
Hello, Michael, he whispered.
Hello, Jack, the angel replied. And how are you?
Im pretty damn good for a man who has just fallen out of an aeroplane. Still, I think Id like an explanation at some point. You cant just tell someone that they are descended from God and just leave it go at that.
Well, thats a big story and Ill be able to tell it to you when we get to Israel. I can show you where it happened and the like. Itll be like watching a documentary except better.
Israel? This was news to Jack. Hed been looking forward to his vacation at Disney World.
Well, yeah, said Michael. Thats where the boat is going. Pretty fortuitous if you ask me. Some might say the Lord works in mysterious ways.
If God had wanted me to go to Israel, he could have just bought me a plane ticket.
Well, its not quite that simple. God is sort of everywhere but he cant interfere with everything because he gave you lot free will. If someone wants to blow up a plane, its their decision not his.
Whoa. God knows everything?
Pretty much. He still cant work out what people ever saw in the Spice Girls but, other than that
And he knows the future?
Yes. Thats one of his jobs.
And when he created man, he created them in such a way that he knew some of them would try to blow up aeroplanes.
Michael smiled and nodded.
And, Jack took a deep breath as he prepared to take a blinding leap in logic. This is what he calls free will?
Jack looked vaguely triumphant, as if he had just explained all the impossibilities away in a few glib sentences. He almost expected Michael to wink out of existence but failed to realise how close to the truth he actually was.
Jack, Jack, Jack, the angel sighed. Youre labouring under a misconception. God did not create Man. Man created God so that he could create Man. Youve got to stop thinking so linearly. Step outside the box.
If youd actually been there, youd have seen that concept fly way over Jacks head leaving little more than a jet stream whoosh in its wake.
Dont worry if you dont get it now, the angel continued. If it still doesnt make any sense after the next few days of explanation, Ill take you to Amsterdam and well pick up some really shit hot acid. Youll be able to see in five dimensions when you take that stuff.
Jacks jaw dropped. In the books he had read, angels didnt tend to advocate the consumption of illicit substances. Besides, he was sure the angel was looking less and less like a Botticelli painting and more and more like a Stonehenge visiting hippy with every passing minute.
Dont worry, Michael beamed because he could read Jacks mind. Theres precedent. Book of Revelations? That John guy was bombed out of his head on mushrooms, man.
5.
Listen, Father Gregory screamed down the phone. I want both the A and B teams in Jerusalem, stat. This isnt a time to act like pussies. What we need here is good old fashioned overkill.
For a man who ran a small private army, he didnt find much opportunity to get over excited and throw his considerable weight around. Now that he had the chance, he seized upon it with his stubby little fingers and proceeded to choke the life out of it.
Dont start talking to me about fucking hardware unless you are on a secure line, Monroe. Are you on a secure line? Thats what I thought. Let me worry about the fucking hardware, then.
It felt good to swear. Father Gregory hadnt sworn since he stubbed his toe seven years earlier. He hadnt actually sworn at another human being since he was at high school. Fuck, it felt good. Especially seeing as he was doing the Lords work and had a guaranteed pardon from the Pope for all sins committed in the Churchs service. He decided to not only go with the flow, he decided to get inventive.
Listen, Monroe. I want that tit chomping motherfucker dead and buried. In fact, I want that shit bag chopped up into tiny fucking pieces and I want those tiny pieces buried in separate graves that are preferably on different and non adjacent fucking continents. Theres no fucking way we can have this cock sucking sanitary pad sniffing bastard resurrecting himself. Scorch the Earth and then salt the ground. Do you hear what Im saying?
Monroe ran what amounted to the Catholic SWAT team. He thought hed seen it all during his time of service. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts and demons; hed sent more than his fair share of those bastards screaming back to Hell. Priests who swore like drunken stevedores? Easy.
Who is this guy? Monroe snarled as he sucked hard on his cigarette. Fucking Dracula?
That, Father Gregory replied. Is on a need to know basis. All you need to know is that this pussy licker represents a clear and fucking present danger to Mother Church and civilisation as we know it. Plant this scrawny assed dog fucker in the ground, Monroe. Plant him deep.
You got it, Boss.
6.
When Martha Wayne adjusted her glasses with her index finger, it was perhaps one of the cutest actions ever perpetrated by a human being. I use the word perpetrated with a scalpel like accuracy because I mean just that. Martha had seen from an early age just what an effect that simple gesture had on human males and had strived to perfect its many intricacies. Other girls had bigger tits and eyelashes that they flashed and fluttered respectively. Martha took what appeared to be a consolation prize and she had and run with it. Now grown men swooned and women tried to imitate. Actually some women swooned and some men tried to imitate as well but thats another story and that story really starts here.
Besides showing someone she was sexually interested in them, Martha also found her gift particularly useful in a variety of circumstances. She estimated that she increased her grade average by three points with just one casual use of this gesture. It helped her with employment and placed her into a position where she had become SWIPEs media spokesperson.
When an interviewer asked her a difficult question, with one simple variation on the spectacular spectacle adjustment theme, she could bring the viewing public around to her side. The offending interviewer was immediately painted as a vicious brute or jealous harridan depending upon the unfortunates gender.
In a less enlightened era, some may have called it witchcraft. She had previously only had the opportunity to display her skills on cable and regional programs of minimal interest to the wider public. She was moving into the big league now as todays program ran nationally.
Well, Simon, Martha said whilst working her little magic trick direct to camera. Youre asking me for a lot. If you want a scientific explanation, I cant make one up for you just like that. It would be fairly unscientific if I just threw you any old nonsense I could off of the top of my head.
Curiously, this was exactly what she intended to do. The best lies always come wrapped in a bundle of truth.
Besides, watching a low resolution image caught on a mobile phone is not exactly laboratory conditions. However, I think I can offer you quite a few plausible explanations to these events.
A better presenter would have gone with the flirt and the flow but Simon Black had too much ego for his own good. She had deliberately left a large enough hole in her words to trap the biggest fool and this arrogant presenter was stupid enough to just step right in there. Obviously, he was not helped by the misinformed notion that his bushy eye brows did not need trimming because they made him look wise. As he grumpily filled the gap, audience sympathies switched stream. Usually, the audience enjoyed nothing more than seeing the science nerd crucified. Instead, America fell in love.
Well, he sniffed. Maybe you could just give us an example or two.
The words seem harmless enough on paper but it was something in his tone. The nation suddenly realised this trusted journalist was really just a bitter and twisted old queen. Martha skipped over the wicked witchs corpse and proceeded down the Yellow Brick Road to glory.
The atmosphere itself is probably the obvious place to go for an explanation. We are only just beginning to glimpse the intricacies of that system. We look at the sky and were often fooled by its quiet majesty. Until we see a roof blown off in a storm, that is. The sky is a bit like a big pan of water placed on a stove. As the sun beams down, it starts to churn and bubble. Atmospheric vortices, up drafts, wind sheers and micro storms are all recognised phenomena that have all bought down aircraft.
So these sudden gusts of winds could pick up a man?
It has happened but the up draft wouldnt actually have had to pick this man up. It merely had to slow him down . But, you know, lets face it, at the end of the day I think Mr Blessed was just fortunate enough to live up to his name.
Youre saying he just got lucky?
It was just too tempting. Martha smiled cheekily and beamed at her two hundred million viewers.
Well, yes, Simon. You may have forgotten this but people occasionally do get lucky. In Jack Blesseds case, I think he used up a whole lifetimes worth of luck. If I were him, I definitely wouldnt buy a lottery ticket.
Simon Blacks face was a picture but not a particularly pretty picture. Being stung by a zinger from the science geek? That certainly hadnt been part of his script. Flushed with rage, he staggered to keep control of his emotions. He smiled and turned to camera.
Well be right back after this short commercial break.
The demand for a fade to advertisements had come a minute and a half prematurely. Some affiliates were taken unaware and accidentally broadcast an additional partial sentence.
Who the fuck do you think you are you smug
Black was widely censured for his outburst. As for Martha Wayne, she had gone to air with nothing up her sleaves except her arms and what can you say? A star is born.
7.
You know, man, Michael tried to seriously focus on his escaping reality. I think its just modern times. The Zeitgeist is just getting to me. Im an angel. People think angel and they think peace and love. People think peace and love and they think hippies. God damn Socratic logic is turning me into a hippy, man. Im not supposed to be a flaming hippy, man. Im supposed to be one of Gods warriors. Back home, Ive got this dirty great flaming sword in my closet which I keep handy for the last days. You see me wielding that thing above my head and you wont be thinking about the flowers in my hair.
The cabin was beginning to take on the smell of a University Bar. Whilst this was the kind of smell Jack had hoped never to experience again, he said nothing. The weirdness was getting too much for him and he had decided to feign catalepsy.
Look at this, man, Michael groaned as he exposed his chest. Reality has just pierced my nipple and - look its given me a tattoo around my navel. If only you people could just find a truth and stick to it. It would make my existence as the personification of a mythological ideal a whole lot easier and thats the truth. You can take that as gospel, man.
Michael took an enormous toke on the joint that had just appeared in his hand. He held the smoke inside whatever it is angels have instead of lungs and then pumped a choking cloud out that resembled a good old fashioned London fog.
You want some of this, man? Sorry dude. I forgot. Youre not allowed to sin, are you? Me. Ive got no free will. I just go where the current of public imagination carries me. Do you know what Im saying?
Jack continued to feign catalepsy. He considered the possibility that he had died and gone to hell. There was still the chance he was dreaming but he felt that this illusion had been going on for quite a while now and the dream option was growing increasingly unlikely.
Its okay, man. I know your mind is blown but Ill try to explain it to you. You know what I said earlier about taking things as gospel? Well thats a saying that has built up over the years because people believe the Gospels to be true. In fact, they represented a truth decided upon some four hundred years after the event. Before they narrowed it down to four, there were a whole stack of Gospels. I could go on about how different the stories were in those documents but they represent a dismissed truth. To an entity like me, they are irrelevant until someone digs up a copy and then my entire universe gets dicked around with.
The first of the four official Gospels was the book of Mark.
I thought Matthew was the first Gospel, said Jack. He had given up on the whole silence thing.
You know, he continued. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.
No, man. Thats just the way they ordered them in the big book. The Book of Mark was written thirty years after the death of Christ. Mark hadnt been an Apostle but he had been working with Peter and Paul. That doesnt mean he actually wrote the book either but it bears his name and was probably written in Rome in around 65AD. Both Peter and Paul had been martyred by then so, as the book began to circulate, Mark was a fairly authoritative name to use. Its kind of like getting celebrity endorsement for your product.
Up until that time, the message of Christs life and teachings had only been passed along orally. This had led to a fair amount of inconsistencies creeping into the tale. A variety of different approaches to Christianity were springing up in different outposts around the Mediterranean. As these beliefs diverged to the point where travellers were confused as to whether or not they worshipping the same God at all, a great demand arose for someone to write the story down and bring to bear some consistency.
Jack stifled a yawn. He found the history of the early Christian church to be even more effective than any of the commercial sleeping tablets. The wow factor was wearing off. Humans move quickly from disbelief to excitement and then to acceptance and ultimately boredom. It had taken Jack less than six hours to go from Are you really an angel? to Can you just shut the fuck up?
Michael was on a roll. There wasnt much that could have shut him up.
What is weird is that the author makes no mention of the Immaculate Conception and only partial reference to the Resurrection. The Book of Mark originally ended with the tomb being found empty. There were a couple of different additional endings tagged on by different authors later but, in the original book, it ended as a mystery.
So? Jack groaned. He felt obliged to say something.
This is about as close as we get to a primary document and it leaves out the two events that allegedly separate Christ from humanity and proves him to be the Son of God. Youd think these would be the main things that people would want to hear about, wouldnt you?
Matthew and Luke quickly followed up with Gospels of their own and they were more than pleased to fill in the missing gaps. A cynic could argue that Marks audience was a little upset that he didnt include enough of the fairy tale mythology that had sprung up in the telling of the tale. The later authors had no such qualms and just gave into public demand.
Michael continued to talk into the night but Jack had already fallen asleep. The casual observer may have been mystified by the fact that the angel now looked like an English History professor.
8.
There was a sense of pandemonium at Tel Aviv airport. The private jet had touched down carrying Vatican diplomatic clearance. The men who strode out of the plane were monstrous in a kind of rock star way. As tall and physically stunning as a team of elite sports stars, they marched through customs in priests robes and wrap around sun glasses. If you ever wanted an opening scene for that Hollywood blockbuster youve been trying to sell, here it was in the flesh. This was a bunch of some seriously impressive motherfuckers. Even battle hardened Israeli soldiers took an unconscious step backwards.
Cardinal Wosley was there for the old meet and greet. Monroe and his crew did not break step as he approached them. These were men on a mission. Wosley was left with little option but to waddle beside them in a sweaty attempt to keep up.
Youre Monroe? Wosley gasped as his little legs moved double speed against the squads gallant stride.
And youre Wosley, our liaison in Israel, Monroe grunted the obvious. Do you have anything for me or is this just a courtesy call? I believe the ship is docking in three hours so I hope the transport and equipment are arranged.
Yes, no, yes and yes, Wosley panted efficiently. I have hotel and vehicle keys as requested. We have a tour bus parked right outside and it is fully equipped as per your instructions.
Outstanding. Did we settle on Uzis?
Local product, sir. The best we could do in the allotted time.
Understandable under the circumstances. Well, well just have to live with that.
Can I also confirm that you received the dossier that was e-mailed to you in flight?
Thats an affirmative.
Awe struck crowds parted as they marched across the concourse. Even the automatic doors hurried to part as this small army approached them. The morning sun lit them up like Greek Gods. Stewardesses drooled and taxi drivers gasped. These were men who certainly knew how to make an entrance.
9.
Well, Ms Wayne. Here it is in a nutshell. Wed like you to go to Israel and interview Mr Blessed. We think you are the woman for the job.
Targets is a rare beast in the world of cinema. It is smartly and knowingly written to a standard that these days we only see in the work of Charlie Kaufman. Mixing realities into a fictional story is dangerous ground especially when it involves a movie showing elements of movie making. The spectre of naval gazing can lay heavy on the final film but, fortunately, there is enough wit here to carry the day.
Boris Karloff plays horror star Byron Orloff, an actor who wants to retire. He feels like a dinosaur in a world where real life violence makes his career of Victorian melodrama look absurd. A young director named Sammy (played by the films director Peter Bogdanovich) claims he has a script that will turn around everybodys perception of him. Orloff is resistant, planning on doing one final personal appearance and being done with it. Orloffs fall from grace is so complete that that appearance is to be held at a drive-in movie theatre. Who could blame the legend for wanting out of the game?
Meanwhile, an all American boy is going nuts in the sterile world of suburbia. The family home is a nightmare of mediocrity but he just keeps on smiling smiling and collecting guns. His only release is shooting cans with his monstrous father (a man he still calls sir) but soon cans will not be enough.
This character is drawn from elements of the life of Charles Whitman. Whitman climbed to the top of a Texas clock tower and proceeded to take pot shots at passers by. This film is filled with tiny details from the case that just add to the creepiness. This is real horror made all the more horrible by its banality.
The two stories move towards their inevitable connection at the personal appearance with the kind of seat gripping tension modern film makers have all but forgotten. Apparently, Bogdanovitch was told by producer Roger Corman that he had two days with Karloff, a pile of stock footage and a week to shoot other actors; go make a movie. There cant be many film makers who could have come up with such an elegant solution given those ingredients. The fact that he made a modern classic out of such adversity is even more amazing.
Rockers is a low budget Jamaican movie based around the edges of the music industry. Its story telling is primitive, its acting is woeful and its direction is barely existent. Its subtitles merely clarify the words that are spoken but offer nothing by way of translation. And yet, it is a great film to watch.
The music is fantastic and you can quite happily watch this film as a series of performances from the top talents of Reggae music. Too often, when you see music on film, the film maker has no faith in what he or she is shooting. Rather than see strength in the actual performance, the music is enhanced by lightening fast editing. Well, here is a film that realises the music on the screen is good enough to risk an extended shot
[ Click here to read more ]
Innocent Blood isnt one of those films that has joined anyones all time classic list. I admit that I turned my nose up at it when it came out. It was barely released because, at the time, the screen was clogged up by third rate vampire comedies. I didnt go to see it and I dont think anyone I knew went to see it. I certainly never heard anyone say a good word about it.
Well, let me turn that around. Having recently seen John Landis Masters of Horror episode Deer Woman, I was up for a little bit of hunt through the back catalogue. Okay, first off, Anne Parillaud (AKA La Femme Nikita) plays the vampire. Why that little fact isnt plastered in big letters over posters and dvd covers is beyond me. She plays a good vampire who is a little fussy about her food. She only eats bad guys
[ Click here to read more ]
Just as with Spaghetti Westerns, Spaghetti splatter falls into those over used categories: the good, the bad and the ugly. Okay. Ill be honest with you. There isnt a whole lot of space left in the bad category, the good have plenty of room to stretch their legs and ugliness is pretty much the whole point here.
The best directors working in the genre have always filled their work with the feel of a dream. The worst directors have mistaken this as a justification for not employing a decent script writer
or any script writer. The quality of acting is scarcely of concern as the piss poor job of dubbing is guaranteed to put off virtually any viewer
[ Click here to read more ]
Also known as The Nights of Terror, there is something incredibly perverse about Burial Ground. Im given to understand that it would have been against Italian law to allow a child to act in a film such as this but the film makers solution is perhaps the most revolting thing about this fairly revolting film.
I believe that political correctness demands I grapple for an appropriate phrase to describe the actor employed. Vertically challenged? Person of diminished stature? Lets try impossibly ugly middle aged dwarf thing endlessly repeating the word Mama in the vague hope that someone might believe he is a child. Besides, no matter how old this child is supposed to be in the film, something that size doesnt constantly demand access to the breast of Mama, even if she is Mariangela Giordano
[ Click here to read more ]
Some films are easier to write about than others. Baise Moi (Translated variously as Kiss Me, Rape me or more accurately Fuck Me) was never going to fit in the easy category. Banned in its native France (a feat that takes some doing), controversy has dogged it at every step. In Australia, it was shown for a couple of days before being banned and withdrawn.
Wrapped in numb nihilism, it shocks at every turn. Clearly, it is a political film. Unlike many exploitation films in this genre that often (falsely) boast feminist credentials, this is a film written and directed by women; Virginie Despentes and Coralie Trinh Thi. The cover, however, boasts phrases like actual penetration and graphic hardcore as distributors try to make their porn buck on the side. I find it hard to believe that anyone could find its contents in any way arousing. Perhaps I am just naive enough to hope nobody could find its contents arousing
[ Click here to read more ]
Dan OBannon began his career with the script of John Carpenters Dark Star. Whilst that film didnt set the world on fire commercially, it did become a bit of a cult classic with more than a bit of a whiff of dope smoke clinging to it. OBannon presumably returned to a darkened room, smoked some more and planned his next script whilst watching television.
Somehow, after watching It! The Terror From Beyond Space, he got the idea for Alien. Taking the formers stupid plot and playing it straight, he managed to get a mob of Hollywood producers interested in the latter. Whilst this gang included Walter Hill, he wasnt that interested in directing the script. He had a reputation to consider. Instead they managed to convince Ridley Scott to do it and he took the material very seriously. Alien is admirable because it plays it totally straight but, in someone elses hands it could have been a very different film indeed. However, OBannon suddenly looked like a writer you could take seriously and it probably surprised him more than anybody
[ Click here to read more ]
Robert Rodriguez started his movie making career by selling his body to science. He took the five grand he received for the pleasure and made El Miriachi. Soon he would be making Desperado but first he wanted to see how you work a Hollywood movie machine. Offered full creative control by the Showtime Cable channel, he put together Roadracers. Its a film I have always wanted to see but these cable films are virtually impossible to track down outside of the American market.
Well finally, thanks to those dubious DVDs you find floating around the under ten dollar bins, I have a copy. Okay, the picture has been over compressed so the blacks have a tendency to go a bit weird at times but what a joy this thing is. Imagine American Graffiti if it had been driven by the pounding beat of Hot Rod, Link Wray Rockabilly instead of the popular hits of the era. The wait has been worthwhile. I love this movie
[ Click here to read more ]
|
|
|
Add Comments
Comments (1)
Read More
Comment by Bob Short
on Baise Moi
Funnily enough, I was so affected by Baise Moi that I actually had to think about what I was going to write for about two weeks. The editing style and the fact that it appeared to be shot on Super VHS or Hi 8 video only added to the effect.
BTW Tonight(Saturday 30th December), I'm playing a gig at the Gladstone Hotel in Dulwich Hill some time after 10pm. Any readers shouls feel free to rock up. Admission is free.
Bob