October 18, 2007
What a good movie watching year this has been so far
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (0)
October 07, 2007
Aaltra - Sonny - Bouli Lanners
I knew it wasn't finnish! But what the hell was he saying? Well, this kind gentleman has the transcription:
Sonny, you fucking haven't d[ø]ze, I'd happen to fire
Sonny, you fucking haven't d[ø]ze, I (k) happen to fire
Oh, your dick in the frost, I can lag in the side
You can snarfel the phones, I can snarf my baby
Sonny, once of you, I love you do
Sonny, you fucking half an h[ø]ze, I'd happen to fire
Sonny, you freaking half an toast, I'd happen to fire
Oh, you carfel the phones, I can hide in the phones
You can hardly defies, I can(s) house my honey
Sonny, once of you, I love you boo
Sonny (ah), your frequency even hind, I'm targling to fire
Sonny, you're afraid on of and h[y]se, I happen to fire
Oh, you haven't the frames, I can happen to frost
You can happen to face, happens half my honey
Sonny, wanted you, I love you ou
Sonny (ah), it happen you can find, I'm talking to find
Sonny, you fraking hick and h[y]s, I'm h[y]lting to find
Oh and h[y]ffen the phones, I can d[y]ppen the p[y]ms
You can happen to phones, happens half my honey
Sonny, wanted you, I love you ou ou ou
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (2)
September 20, 2007
Making lists
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (0)
July 13, 2007
![]() | ![]() |
![]() | ![]() |
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (0)
March 12, 2007
Two things impressed me greatly this last weekend: a scene from El laberinto del Fauno and a Crucifixus Dolorosus at the exhibition of medieval art from the National Museum in Warsaw. And in a way they're related, being Jesus Christ the rebel par excellence.
The crucifix was hanging on the last room I visited. It's life size and dramatically lit. The Y cross somehow makes it look more real to me. And so does the position of the body and head: the crucified eventually would die suffocated as he wouldn't be able to exhale for his body's weight was suspended from his arms, the nailing of the feet being an extra aid to prolong the agony as he would be able to rise and breath from time to time. The Crucifixus Dolorosus was supposed to make the bystander meditate and this one worked for me. Whether Jesus lived or not, the capacity of some to die or withstand pain for their beliefs and as martyrs of causes is something that I have an immense admiration for.
![]()
(this painting came to my mind as one of the scenes unfolded and, sure enough, I find that Guillermo del Toro claims Goya to have been an influence in this movie).
And so, despite the dedication of the heroes in El Laberinto del Fauno and the sacrifices and readiness to die they showed throughout the movie, the bit where the doctor kills the tortured republican out of mercy by giving him an overdose of painkillers - although the orders of the Capitán Vidal were precisely the opposite, he should make him stay alive so that he could torture him more - will be the one scene I know will stay in my mind:
Vidal: Dígame, porqué no me obedeció?
Doctor: Es que-
Una larga pausa.
Doctor: Obedecer por obedecer - Así, sin pensarlo...
Vidal aprieta las quijadas, tienso.
Doctor: Sólo lo hacen gentes como usted, Capitán.
And Vidal shoots him in the back as he walks away.
******
It is better to die standing than to live on your knees. -- Emiliano Zapata or was it Che?
******
Des idées réclamant le fameux sacrifice
Les sectes de tout poil en offrent des séquelles
Et la question se pose aux victimes novices
Mourir pour des idées, c'est bien beau mais lesquelles ? ---Georges Brassens
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (1)
February 28, 2007
Silence is underrated
"Don't talk unless you can improve the silence." -- Jorge Luis Borges
*****

"Nestled deep in the postcard-perfect French Alps, the Grande Chartreuse is considered one of the world’s most ascetic monasteries. In 1984, German filmmaker Philip Gröning wrote to the Carthusian order for permission to make a documentary about them. They said they would get back to him. Sixteen years later, they were ready. Gröning, sans crew or artificial lighting, lived in the monks’ quarters for six months—filming their daily prayers, tasks, rituals and rare outdoor excursions. This transcendent, closely observed film seeks to embody a monastery, rather than simply depict one—it has no score, no voice over and no archival footage. What remains is stunningly elemental: time, space and light. One of the most mesmerizing and poetic chronicles of spirituality ever created, INTO GREAT SILENCE dissolves the border between screen and audience with a total immersion into the hush of monastic life. More meditation than documentary, it’s a rare, transformative theatrical experience for all."
A lover of silence myself, I enjoyed this documentary immensely. I'm not sure if its even a documentary: there's no soundtrack or voice over, just a succession of short clips and beautiful images of the french Alps. But what made it truly remarkable was that it was the first time in my life where there was almost complete silence in a room ful of people for nearly three hours.
I understand the need for solitude and withdrawal but I frankly don't understand it as a way of life. Especially to be closer to God as one monk admitted. A life of ascetism in a high peak in the Alps is nothing to brag about. What else is there to do? Try to find God while waking up every day to go to work, be underpaid, try to raise a family and make ends meet, resist the temptation of getting yurself into debt to buy symbols of status, find what makes you happy even if it's not what is socially prescribed, be good unto others although they don't really seem to care, be immune to marketing strategies and, if you're a believer, still have faith in God despite all the difficulties. Now THAT is a challenge. Withdrawing from society is plain cowardice.
Silence is the key to find solitude in the middle of others. Silence allows us to think deeper and, if you're a believer, it's the way to listen to God. I've been thinking how it's getting increasingly more difficult to find silent places in cities. My favourites were museums but somehow the old rule of keeping silent doesn't seem to apply anymore. I find catholic churches too grim. I can't get any peace of mind staring at the sight of a crucified man. There isn't one shop, cafe or public place in general that doesn't have some background sound, the dreaded muzak most times. Most of my friends and family can't arrive home without immediately turning on the TV or the stereo even if they're not paying attention. I have my own pet theory that all this is related to fear. Fear of thinking. It's easier to limit your interaction with the world to hearing and seeing and not giving it much thought. If you are constantly bombed with sounds and images, there's a relief from not having to think, from not having to face the probable emptiness.
You know when you eat something that tastes so good that you have to close your eyes so that nothing else can interfere with that sensual pleasure? The same goes for a beautiful work of art; I want to enjoy it in silence, the needed silence of contemplation which allows beauty to be perceived as a religious experience.
*****

Amused by the huge line of people at the Gulbenkian Foundation. There's an exhibition of jewelry by Cartier and I was doing my usual anthropological stunt by observing all these well dressed middle aged couples and groups of women. By the way they looked completely lost as where to buy tickets or how they spoke loudly on their cellphones giving directions to friends on the best places to park around there, I'm sure they had never set foot on the museum before. A strange setting. Reminded me of Bianca Castafiore. I may be a bit prejudiced but I can swear I saw a glitter of greediness on those eyes or whatever it is that makes people appreciate gems and gold. A woman who started mindlessly chatting with me about how she was anxious to see the Cartier exhibition was startled when I said I was not going there but to the museum instead. And even more startled when I said that no Cartier jewelry can beat the Lalique collection which is in the permanent exhibition.
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (5)
February 26, 2007
Lame

Seen "No sos vos, soy yo". My life - entertainment wise - just got more uncertain. Portugal is a small country where only blockbusters and a few strikingly good independent movies are shown. Argentina isn't, as far as I know, a big movie exporter. So, statistically speaking, if an Argentinian movie is shown in Portugal it's got to be good. But this one was terribly lame. It's one of those romantic drama/comedies where Hugh Grant could easily be the star. The cinematic version of those mushrooming novels in the genre "screwed relationships and finding real love for thirtysomethings". As I said, lame. The only interesting bits are the ones the main character's appointments with his shrink. And the credit goes all to the shrink who even quotes Borges which I'm sure is mandatory on any Argentinian production - there must be a law. If only the movie had some good shots of my beloved Buenos Aires, I'd be willing to forgive all those cliches and awkward plot reminiscent of a mediocre Woody Allen's "Play it again Sam". But not even that.
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (0)
April 18, 2006
Il Gattopardo

"What a great job Burt Lancaster does in this movie. I remembered him as some butch guy in westerns, can't believe he's so good!"
"When I was young, the star of the movie was that baby face Alain Delon, no one cared about Burt."
"Are you kidding? Burt Lancaster is much sexier than that skinny, clean-shaven Delon!"
"You're getting old."
(which is not true; I remember watching The Color of Money with my girlfriends as a teenager and while they drooled over that awful, ugly actor who has a squeaky voice when he gets excited and that has a neck and shoulders that makes you think he swallowed a coat hanger and whose initials are TC, I lusted after Paul Newman). Hah.
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (2)
September 07, 2005
A night at the Castro

The organist playing at the Castro Theatre, San Francisco
Harold Lloyd: "Safety Last" and "Girl Shy". I hadn't laughed so hard in a long time. I still have flashes of the movies' scenes now and then and will start laughing for no apparent reason.

Whatever happened to Harold Lloyd? Bio here.
I don't know why but it seems natural to me that someone who played shy, innocent characters would end up taking stereoscopic photos of naked girls :-)
Posted by claudia Permalink | Comments (0)



