You know you have entered some weird place when you put on your socks and shoes to the Imperial March. Downloaded a whole bunch of John Williams’ pieces. From the Sith soundtrack I am most impressed with General Grievous’ Theme (General Grievous himself is very impressive.) The fight theme from Episode I (Darth Maul’s theme — Ahhhhh! Ahhhh-uuuuuuuh!) kicks a lot of ass, too.
Here is the evidence: I wasn’t the only idiot lined up at midnight in Queens last Wednesday night.
George Washington’s teeth — if you ever wondered about them — are alive and well in the Rare Book room at the New York Academy of Medicine on the Upper Upper East Side. As is the coolest collection of phrenology books you’re ever likely to see.
From out of the past comes fIREHOSE. A band I kinda forgot about. Been hunting down their other stuff online, too. This album got played quite a bit in college.
Whoops. Trey Parker & Matt Stone had a great idea and a brilliant design team. They just forgot to bring the funny. This movie is, ultimately, a loud bore with three or so very funny moments. Maybe four (the vomit scene rules, yes, I agree.) I think the 30 minute format is the perfect medium for their ample talents.
One of the most romantic movies I’ve ever seen — perhaps more so because it is so self-awaringly romantic, maybe even a little embarrassed for being so romantic. One could argue Ethan Hawke is a tad obnoxious, but handsome 23 year old men ARE obnoxious. This movie presents things just as they are supposed to be. I was also reminded, when I heard the closing credits’ use of Kathy McCarty’s version of Daniel Johnston’s “Livin’ Life,” that this what turned me on to Johnston’s music.
Never before in the history of cinema has anyone done this: six features, one story arc. When we watch the “old” Star Wars films now, it will always be in the context of how this fits into Anakin’s story. It has always been about Anakin. I remember when I first heard about Star Wars. Playing the backyard, my cousin told me about a guy named Darth Vader whose planet was called the Death Star. To see the mask fitted on a human’s head last night was, I shit you not, one of the most moving experiences I’ve ever had at the movies. And then. . .when we heard the first breath — the place went nuts. I should point out it was a midnight show (a midnight show that didn’t start until quarter-to-one) and the audience was ready to go. We booed all the trailers — we wanted Darth Vader — until we saw that one or two of the trailers were cool. (A great moment — the green title card for “Coming Attraction” comes on — a chorus of boos. The next title card — Marvel Comics logo, for the Fantastic Four movie — a tumult of “yeah!!!!s”) The opening fight scene is more out of control than anything you’ve seen in a Star Wars film (multiple under-the-breath voices going “shit! holy shit! oh shit!”) sets the bar high and each additional sequence pushes it further. When Yoda was talking about Faith and Fear and Death and Duty (as he is wont to do) I heard a voice behind me intoning, “Wow. Yes. Wow.” Heavy. Everything else is a swirl. There’s a flower planet. And a moment when someone shouts “Noooooooooooooooooo!” And, yes, obvious references to George Bush. For those of you that think this may just be a liberal reading into it — see the movie. Remember, this is George Lucas, not exactly known for subtlety. (I’m saying Sen. Palpatine is Dick Cheney, Count Dooku is George Bush. . .and Anakin? Anakin is us.) And John Williams has proven himself yet again to be the greatest composer since Tchaikovsky. Maybe my capsuled review for the next time I see this — some time next week — will be a little more cogent.
Oh, what a fool I was! You can read my review of Attack of the Clones from last November. Much like the foolish members of the Senate and gullible Trade Federation, I fell into Count Dooku and Senator Palpatine’s trap. Of course I was confused! This whole movie is meant to confuse you — to ready you for the biggest 28 year pay-off in cinema history: The Mighty Episode III.
The marathon started at 4:30 pm at Jurgen’s house. I’d been up early, taking a private tour of, among other places, the Morris/Jumel mansion in Washington Heights. I had a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream, a spoon and an open mind. I hated Phantom Menace in the theater — and hated what clips I saw on cable years later. This day. . .I dunno. . . maybe I was ready to like anything. A Gigly/Ishtar double feature may’ve worked, too, who knows? All I can tell you was that I found Jar Jar Binks funny and young Jake Lloyd’s Beaver Cleaver-esque line delivery (eg “Oops!” and “Yippie!”) charming. And Darth Maul kicks ass. I knew that the first time I saw it.
Star Wars Episode III is AWESOME! Expect a full Hoffman-style review some time late tomorrow — along with reviews of Episodes I and II (we had a bit of a marathon) plus stories about the special midnight showing. Long Live The Dark Side!!!!
Oy, you should only know from such troubles. Very emotional, great performances, well done all around. Maybe Mary Tyler Moore’s character is a bit two-dimensional, but that is probably realistic in some way. Best line: He’s a Jewish doctor?
Fernando Ferrer is such a putz that he may just make me vote for Bloomberg. Today, in a misguided effort to shake his earlier gaffe defending the Diallo shooters, he chose to show his support of the Diallo family by claiming Bloomberg made no statement of protest after the Diallo incident. Never mind that this was two years before Bloomberg entered politics and he was still a private citizen running a chain of radio and wire outlets. Even Ed Koch, who is probably to the right of Bloomberg by now, engaged in civil disobedience then. Would Bloomberg have? Who knows? But why bring this up? Doesn’t the city have something else to worry about other than Amadou Diallo’s corpse? Fernando Ferrer is 100% the putz. I’d like to vote for a Democrat later this year, but I won’t be voting for him. If Ferrer wins the primary, I’m sticking with Bloomy. Maybe I should learn more about Gifford Miller or Anthony Weiner. I’d like to learn more about C. Virginia Fields — but I am amazed to learn that right now, only six months before the election, her campaign does not have a website. Pretty hard to take her seriously.
Not only has the Post outdone themselves with the awful pun, they’ve added a crass visual — a bit unusual for them. Also — is it just the Shiites who are upset by the story?
Howard Stern put it bluntly this morning: The Newsweek story might even be true, but for all the problems it causes they should just keep it to themselves.
The Times’ website will begin charging to read the Op-Ed, the only thing on that website I consistently read. F them. Hopefully some free speech mongers will take the pieces and put them up on mirror sites. I’m ticked off.
I really wanted this movie to be great. It is good, but isn’t great. Problems are all over the place. One is global — maybe something this theatrical just doesn’t work in a movie. Or maybe Mike Nichols is just old. I felt the same complacency with his film “Closer,” also based on a play. On stage, “Angels in America” (which I saw with my sister and father) had a striking urgency; on film it feels lazy. Maybe Nichols doesn’t have the anger he had when he made “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” or “Carnal Knowledge.” Last problem: Mary Louise Parker. I used to think she was great. I guess I first started paying attention to her when I began watching “The West Wing.” Thing is, she’s got one move, one trick. And she does it again and again and again. If you believe actors use their bodies like an instrument this would be like a guitar player who can only play one killer lick over and over. She’s a joke. Now — I give this a “B,” which is still quite good. Because the dialogue is. . .well. . .this is a Pulitzer winning play, probably the most respected play written in the last 15 years. . .and there’s a good reason. I found myself rewinding the DVD just to hear the quotable lines again. All of the non-Mary Louise Parker performances are terrific. Meryl Streep (and, oy, to see a giant like her slumming in a scene with Parker) proves herself again to be the most striking actress ever. Al Pacino as Roy Cohn is wonderful. (He’s having a bit of a renaissance with this and “Merchant of Venice.”) The actors I hadn’t heard of, playing Prior and Louis, were dynamite also. So — if you have 6 hours to spare — yes, see this. But it doesn’t live up to its potential.
After wanting to visit for over a decade, I finally made it to Sammy’s Roumanian Steakhouse. I loved it, but it’ll probably be my one and only visit. The prices are absolutely friggin’ nuts. With tip, the bill for Ann & I came to $77. $77 that, as you probably know, I really don’t have. And, let’s face it, for $77 you can basically afford a nice dinner at any of the better steakhouses. Y’know, one that looks nice. Not one in a basement with flourescent lights, stapled xeroxes and photos and business cards anywhere. Not one with an Israeli man at a synthesizer singing “welcome to the house of cholesterol!!” We shared a giant (giant!) steak, roasted peppers, pickled tomatoes, bread with schmaltz, potato pancakes with apple sauce and chocolate egg creams. And seltzer from a spritzer. Lots of it. Oy. We took no photos, but you can see a lot on the Net. Some good ones are here.
Ann, J. Katcha & I visited the Whitney on Sunday to see Tim Hawkinson’s show which is, if I may get technical, frickin’ awesome. Pictures don’t do justice to his massive (or tiny — no in between) intricate forms. Overheard in the gallery, again and again, from smiling and slack-jawed museum goers: This guy is nuts! That’s awesome! That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen! I was most impressed with his collection of clocks: a coke can with a twirling tab, making that the minute hand and the can opening the hour hand. Or a hair brush with two different sized hairs twirling hourly. . .or a light bulb with moving filaments.
We actually drove to the museum and had the usual trouble finding a spot on the East side. I did see a spot, began to back up, when someone swooped in and took it. In true Costanza fashion I started honking and shouting, until I realized that I was honking at something behind me. Fueled by rage, I jumped out of my car and started screaming. It was a woman behind the wheel and I think she was truly frightened. She gave up the space that was rightly and obviously mine.
Did you know that Eero Saarinen, the dude who designed the TWA terminal at JFK, also designed the St. Louis Arch? I didn’t know that.
(Look how awesome those handrails are! Those are the best handrails ever!)
