Highlander

Was I half-asleep or was it never adequately explained why “There can only be one?”

Sean Connery in gibberish movie.

Highlander was a complete pile of nonsense, with a barely anglophone Belgian, Christopher Lambert, playing a Scotsman and Sean Connery playing a Spanish-Egyptian swordfighting dandy. Lots of latent sadomasochistic homosexuality and some utterly unreal lighting, including gutter-level strobe lights.

It was showing on ITV, so there were frequent advert breaks, but oddly there were no real adverts, just solicitations to watch other programmes on ITV. Has the credit crunch killed TV advertising?

Greve

Today there is a tram and bus strike which means I can’t get to French class and C has a “Get out of Jail Free” card as regards work. I’m not sure why the drivers are striking and I’m hoping the local TV station will cover the strike. Apparently much of the time interviewed picketers don’t know why they’re on strike, other than because they want to “Travailler moins, gagner plus” (work less, earn more).

To me it looks like driving a tram would be quite a pleasant, brainless job. You get to sit in a modern spacious cabin with lots of driver aids and a nice thick glass door between you and the passengers. I suspect in this case that the drivers are misusing their right to withold labour.

Seeing as I have an unexpected day off, I think I’ll bike over to the boulangerie and pick up some tasty pastries for elevenses.

My next job: motocrotte rider

A motocrotte somewhere on the streets of France.

If all else fails, I’m sure I can get a job riding one of these. In France, the job security of a motocrotte rider must rival that of the undertaker. It is an ordinary motorcycle or motorscooter, with an oversized vacuum cleaner mounted on the pillion. The rider sweeps through the streets of the city, and when he sees a crotte s/he sucks it up the pipes. But what is a crotte, you ask? A crotte is a form of shoe decoration left on the street by inconsiderate dog owners.

Pelosi

Now I’m back in Europe, I’m reminded that American political life looks even weirder at a distance than it does close up. I’m inspired by the gall of the Republican party almost daily, but today has been most impressive.

1) Republicans veto a bill that is an attempt to start cleaning up the mess their economic policies have made.

2) Having scuppered the bill, they then try to lay the blame for the bill’s failure at the feet of a woman who voted for it, claiming that the speech Nancy Pelosi made introducing it turned off certain members of the Republican party.

If the Republicans thought it was important that the bill passed, surely they’d have voted for it en masse? If they didn’t want the bill to pass, and that’s what it looks like from the voting record, then why are they now claiming to be upset that it didn’t? Obviously, it’s because they want to make it look as if the Democrats are at fault for the crisis. But, for Republicans, there is no crisis, because they don’t believe in regulation. But then again, there is a crisis, and they want to make sure someone else gets the blame.

On top of this, a John Boehner, the Republican leader of the House said:

“I do believe we could have got there today, had it not been for this partisan speech that the Speaker gave on the floor of the House,”

What are the partisan pieces of the speech?

…when was the last time someone asked you for $700bn?

It is a number that is staggering, but tells us only the costs of the Bush administration’s failed economic policies: policies built on budgetary recklessness, on an anything-goes mentality, with no regulation, no supervision, and no discipline in the system.

Over the past several days, we have worked with our Republican colleagues to fashion an alternative to the original plan of the Bush administration.

Oh, how upsetting, Pelosi spoke the truth about George Bush, and the Republicans are unhappy. They seem to be conveniently forgetting that George Bush was one of the supporters of the bail-out package. They’ll claim to support him when Pelosi says something harsh about him, but they won’t support him with votes for a bill he supports? Wow, that’s some meaningful support. Oh, the doublethink!

On reflection, it’s no wonder that a group of such conflicted and volatile people should take exception at what, to me, looks like a balanced and well-worded speech.

Transcript of Nancy Pelosi’s speech.
Source: The Guardian.

I really hope the Republicans are humbled at the ballot box in November. The Americans I know and love deserve better.

Cinéma Utopia

The other night C and I made a thorough investigation of one of Bordeaux’s cultural gems. Cinéma Utopia in the Saint Pierre district, at the heart of the historic centre ville is a five screen arthouse cinema housed in a converted church. The screen we sat in was small but adequate and the area around and underneath the screen was painted to resemble an altar with candles to each side. This irreverence is played out elsewhere in the building too. Some of the original stained glass windows have been modified to include the Utopia’s logo.

Stained glass window, Cinema Utopia, Bordeaux.

For a dedicated cinephile, the Utopia is aptly named. The films are not preceded by commercials or trailers. You sit and wait, the lights go out, people fall silent and the movie starts, just like that. It’s refreshingly pure to experience cinema treated with the same respect as theatre. During the movie everyone stays totally silent. There is no popcorn munching, (you can’t buy popcorn at the Utopia) nobody answers their phone and nobody issues whispered pleas for explication to their friends. The film we saw was Sidney Lumet’s The Verdict, from 1982, an original print in fine shape. There was a little dirt around the beginning and end of each reel and a significant amount on the tail of the film, which is to be expected. The colours had faded a little, but Paul Newman’s eyes were still startlingly blue. At the end of the film the house lights stayed down until the very end of the credits so you either watch until the very end or bumble about like an idiot in the pitch black.

The Utopia has a café and it’s the real French deal. Like I wrote earlier, there is no popcorn. There is no candy, either. There is an abundance of coffee, and a decent selection of beer, wine and pastries. Some wholesome and tasty meals come out of the kitchen. There is free wi-fi, but the place isn’t crammed with people bathing in the blue light of their laptop screens. The café has a couple of terraces of tables on the square outside, and I think it must bring in more money than the cinema itself. A full-price ticket for the Utopia is €6, and an abonnement (subscription) of 10 admissions costs €45. The multiplexes in town charge around €7,50. In the month of September they showed 36 different films, from a wide selection of countries and from different eras. Right now you can see the prizewinners from Cannes alongside retrospectives of great movies from the archives. In the coming month the selection of classic Hollywood movies includes Siodmak’s The Killers, Kazan’s East of Eden and Hawks’ Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. There is even philosophical and political graffiti in the toilets. The Utopia really lives up to its name.

Paul Newman as Harry Galvin in the Verdict.

It was spookily coincidental that the film we watched that night was The Verdict, in which a lawyer, whose idealism and naivety have cost him a comfortable job and his self-respect, takes a medical malpractice case to court, though it would be easier to settle, in order to do the right thing. It’s a classic tale of the little guy versus the big man, and yet Paul Newman in the title role and the direction of Sidney Lumet are create an emotional gravity that is modest, thoughtful and compelling in a manner seldom seen on screen in recent years. I hate to come across all curmudgeonly and say “They don’t make them like that any more,” but they really don’t.

On the way back from the cinema C and I were admiring Paul Newman as both a great performer, a genuinely good and philanthropic guy, and a good example of an American liberal. There are more films playing at the Utopia that benefited from Newman’s involvement, including one that he directed. I’m planning to make the most of the opportunity to see them. Having seen some of his best work the night before made the announcement of his death a little sadder for us. Damn, he was good.

Back in the Saddle

For the first time in what feels like months – and probably is – I rode my bike five miles to work and five miles back. I’d been starting to feel like a lardy, cranky bastard, but working up a sweat on the bike (mostly on the way back home) makes me think I’m back on the right track.

Other news: I’m currently reading a book that’s a collection of pages in a box. You assemble them in whatever order you want, except for the very first and the very last. It feels like inhabiting a very disorderly memory, which is likely the point. It’s called The Unfortunates and it was written by B. S. Johnson, no relation to London’s current head buffoon mayor.

Trunt, trunt

In A. S. Byatt’s Little Black Book of Stories there is one about a woman who turns into an beautiful and bewildering assembly of stones. Naturally she ends up in Iceland, where the stones are still very much alive. Talking to her Icelandic sculptor friend shortly before her final transformation, he tells her the story of a man who abandons his friends to live wild amongst the rocks. Each year for three years they visit him to see if he’s willing to return to them, and each time they ask what he believes in. The final time he responds, laughing “Trunt, trunt, og tröllin í fjöllunum,”

“‘Trunt, trunt’ is just nonsense, it means rubbish and junk and aha and hubble bubble, that sort of thing, I don’t know an English expression that will do as a translation. Trunt trunt, and the trolls in the fells.”

Ever since I finished the story, trunt has been rolling around inside my head. I love the idea of a word that is so chock-full of nothing.

I Drink Your Milkshake

This weekend has been my first time off from jobs and movie stuff for about two, maybe three months. After ignoring most of the Superbowl, I took Courtney to see There Will Be Blood. Within the first minute she whispered in my ear “I really notice cinematography now.” At that moment I think my heart skipped a beat.

Shooting Bulletins blog now live

Screenshot of Shooting Bulletins blog.

This weekend Courtney and I launched the Shooting Bulletins blog. It’s where we’re keeping a record of our progress as we attempt to make a short movie that will prove my worthiness to be admitted to film school. Check it out if you’d like to see how we’re doing and to find out how you can help us do what we need to do!

We’ll be putting the third bulletin up some time today.

Shooting Bulletins Website Now Live

Screenshot of Shooting Bulletins blog.

This weekend Courtney and I launched the Shooting Bulletins blog. It’s where we’re keeping a record of our progress as we attempt to make a short movie that will prove my worthiness to be admitted to film school. Check it out if you’d like to see how we’re doing and to find out how you can help us do what we need to do!

We’ll be putting the third bulletin up some time today.

The Strangest Village in Britain

This is funny, sad, touching, hopeful and true. It’s about the village of Botton in Yorkshire. I’ve only got so far as the two blokes in the print shop, who have a Goon Show-esque repartee, and if it weren’t time for bed I’d watch it all the way through.

Update: I finished watching. It was mostly quite decent, but the lack of any serious analysis of exactly how the Botton model helps its patients lead meaningful lives in spite of the difficulties they face was troubling. It felt as if the makers of the programme either intended to present a freakshow and make it acceptable by making some nod towards serious analysis, or they wanted to make something serious but lacked the budget to get interviews with experts, or that the programme makers were fairly young and failed to recognise they needed more serious analysis to add weight to the project. I suspect it was a combination of the latter two.

The Journey Starts

This week it’s starting to get serious. I’ve received some useful feedback on my script, I’ve cast an actor, and Courtney’s realising the scale of the project we’re about to embark on. My short movie with the working title “Julie, Julie” is officially in pre-production. In the next week or so I’ll be starting a new website with a “donate” button so people can help fund the project, should they so desire.

Thanks to my script readers: your feedback has been very useful.

More Shooting

This weekend was another orgy of video shooting. First off, most of Friday was spent preparing to shoot, and then shooting a Critical Mass of zombies and pirates. More will become apparent when it’s edited.

Saturday and Sunday were spent on a levee in Sacramento shooting a barbaric pinata massacre for my friend Stephanie. I’m quite pleased with how the footage looked when we played it back in the evenings. There was a distinct Tarantino-esque cruelty to a couple of shots.

Rockumentary

Palmer asked me if I could help him with a documentary project he’s working on, so this Sunday we went to Sacramento to interview locally-based outsider musician Lenny G. Blat. Something about him reminds me of the Legendary Stardust Cowboy.

Palmer’s started editing already, and a couple of clips are up on YouTube.

When the camera’s off Lenny is surprisingly warm, and unpredictable. He sings almost constantly, as if he has a musical variant of tourette’s syndrome.

Drunken Fuckwit Mangles Bikes

Last weekend the missus and I headed to Monterey for a relaxing weekend on the Pacific coast. We took our bikes and locked them to the railing between our motel room and the car park. We figured nobody would steal our bikes, they’re not exactly top models. However, when we got home on Saturday evening, after snapping the sunset, a pleasant dinner and a couple of drinks, our bikes had disappeared. Just as the idea of our bikes being stolen was sinking in, we realised the railing was gone too, and the smell of diesel was hanging in the air. Then we found our bikes.

New video: Sustainability Fair 2007

Last week I finished editing a short documentary profiling the Sustainability Fair the Davis Food Co-op held back in July. I could spend ages tidying it up and making it perfect, but I don’t really have time.

If you’re interested in reading my self-criticism, after the jump are some of the bits I’d spend time fixing in an ideal world in which days last 48 hours, I work for eight hours a day and need to sleep for only seven.

Green Window Dressing

It looks like M&S is working to reduce its carbon footprint, which is a good thing. However, their marketing surrounding the introduction of sustainable technologies exaggerates the effect it will have.

The chain’s first wind turbine, in Aberdeenshire, will provide renewable energy to the branches, which bosses say will lead to a drop of 55% in their energy use. This, the company says, will also contribute to the shops producing 95% less carbon dioxide.

[source: Guardian Unlimited]
It all depends on how you define a shop I suppose. If, like M&S seem to, you limit your measurements to the building itself, then you will achieve a huge reduction in carbon dioxide emissions. However a shop is not just a building. It needs to be stocked, and M&S’s goods are still made all over the world and travel many thousands of miles before they reach the shops. The food sold in their shops is often highly processed and overly packaged single-serving meals. Surely carbon dioxide generated by the manufacture, packing and shipping of goods needs to be taken into account when calculating a shop’s carbon footprint. Seen in these terms the reduction in carbon footprint is far smaller. Taking a wild guess, I’d imagine it’s closer to ten or twelve percent.

Now they’re starting to address environmental concerns in the part of the business that is most obvious to the customer, will they extend that thinking into the most polluting parts of their business? Does this news herald a deep-rooted change in their business plan or is their environmental commitment just window dressing?

Playing catch-up

Recently I’ve had ideas for posts, but I’ve either been at work, visiting family, or too tired to be bothered blogging.

I’m determined to make time to write, produce, shoot and edit a short before the year is out, so I’m slotting in screenwriting time when I can. I’m also helping a couple of friends out with shorts, and still trying to finish off editing another couple of projects – one’s work related, the other is not.

What else? I snagged myself a copy of Lindsay Anderson’s If….. I enjoyed it, but would have taken even more from had I not been tired and corpulently well-fed the night I watched it. Court and I rented Truffaut’s Day for Night the other day, and both loved every second, which is rare, and we just watched Miyazaki’s Kiki’s Delivery Service, which was delightful. Now I’ve consumed two feelgood movies in a row, I feel my next cinematic entertainment should be thoroughly perverse.

It will please certain people to discover that Courtney’s been renting DVDs of the re-made Battlestar Galactica this week. I’ve been watching a few with her, and I’m actually really quite impressed. There’s a sense of restraint in the action sequences and with only one real exception, the tension and plotting is good. It also gives a lead role to the guy who played the origami-making cop in Blade Runner.

Three Day Weekend

A three day weekend is a chance to blog! It seems my free time has dwindled to nothing recently, which is OK for the most part, except right towards the end of my week, when I simultaneously want to sleep and have enough fun to reward me for my hard work in the last few days.

Why am I so busy? Two jobs, dear readers, will make one very busy indeed. I already mentioned the job at Davis Media Access. About a month after that I landed myself a part-time position doing grant admin work and other bits and bobs at the Community Alliance with Family Farmers. Both jobs are rewarding in completely different ways, and in both cases I’m learning genuinely useful stuff – for instance, last week I learned an awful lot about pomology. I’m also knocking myself into shape with some exercise.

My heaviest day is Thursday. I’m up at 7:30, on my bike by 8:30. By 9:00 I’ve normally cycled the five miles to CAFF. It’s a pleasant ride. I’ll record it on video sometime. I work at CAFF from 9am-2pm, then I cycle back to Davis for a 2:30 game of squash with my friend Tony. If my legs still work at 3:30pm I can get home, shower, change and bike to DMA by 4pm. I work there until 9pm, although I often don’t get out on time, and if I’m lucky Courtney has dinner waiting for me sometime around 9:30pm.

By doing this I get my 40 hours out of the way in four days, theoretically leaving me three days for fun and relaxation. However, Sundays are currently special project days at DMA, so most weeks I nip in there for four or five hours to get stuff done. Fridays are my Co-op volunteer work days, so that’s two hours on the meat counter, and I’ve started doing a radio programme from 3-4pm also on Fridays on the lovely, endangered KDRT 101.5FM. I’m going to try to make more time to keep my online life a little more up to date.

After much pressure from Eyelashjam I finally caved and joined Facebook. I’m now a little put out that he’s unresponsive to my request to be one of my boyfriends in an open relationship with a bunch of other lads and lasses. Maybe he was put off by my pseudonym. I concede that the idea of getting it on with a dead cabbage-headed Frenchman may be a little grim.