Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Warmth #2

A visual note from Costeño nights:



“Sometimes, when one is moving silently through such an utterly desolate landscape, an overwhelming hallucination can make one feel that oneself, as an individual human being, is slowly being unraveled. The surrounding space is so vast that it becomes increasingly difficult to keep a balanced grip on one's own being. The mind swells out to fill the entire landscape, becoming so diffuse in the process that one loses the ability to keep it fastened to the physical self. The sun would rise from the eastern horizon, and cut it's way across the empty sky, and sink below the western horizon. This was the only perceptible change in our surroundings. And in the movement of the sun, I felt something I hardly know how to name: some huge, cosmic love.”
Haruki Murakami

Monday, March 16, 2015

The Warmth #1

In the midst of researching a new film project for a script I wrote a few years back which has been sitting on hold while I've been lost in other things. We've been seeking financing for this project - The Warmth - for a while but as things have slowed down, I've decided to jump off to the location of the film, the northern coast of Colombia, to see if I can't speed things up again. So, here I am, trying to make the film for the first time in my mind. It's working. I like this film. I have no idea if it will be what I hope once it is remade for the seventieth time with a camera and crew and actors, but at the moment it's got everything I need in it.




















Monday, February 16, 2015

Consumption #1

My life is a mess. I don't have much these days... but I got books and films. So, although I've been working my ass off, writing some new shit and smashing out pages and pages on a new script for another director that should be up and happening mid year, I've been keeping the days roiling and boiling with just watching and reading a lot. Oh, and beer.

Because I'm not anything like Steven Soderbergh, I am gonna use this little confessional corner of the internet to make a list of consumption for the sake of clarity, openness and equal parts humiliation and curatorial signposting. I've been meaning to make January's list for ages but have been too busy/lazy. So, here it is. I imagine I'll post February's list sometime in May. I won't lie. It's been a pretty busy month of devouring.


Films

A MOST WANTED MAN - Antón Corbjin

MOTHER - Bong Joon-Ho
HARDCORE - Paul Schrader



TAI CHI MASTER - Yuen Woo Ping
POLICE STORY 3 - Stanley Tong
BUDDHA COLLAPSED OUT OF SHAME - Hana Mahkmalbaf



13 ASSASSINS - Takashi Miike
NIGHTCRAWLER (quit watching)
IN A BETTER WORLD - Susanne Bier (repeat watch)



WOMAN ON THE BEACH - Hong Sang Soo
BIRDMAN - Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu
MEMORIES OF MURDER - Bong Joon-Ho




THE LEGO MOVIE - Phil Lord & Christopher Miller
GONE GIRL - Ben Affleck
LA DOLCE VITA - Federico Fellini




RETURN OF THE JEDI - Richard Marquand (repeat watch)
TMNT - Michael Bay (quit watching)
REVANCHE - Gotz Spielman




WILLY WONKA AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY - Mel Stuart
DUMB AND DUMBER TO - Bobby and Peter Farrelly
CAFE LUMIERE - Hou Hsiao-Hsien (repeat watch)
THREE TIMES - Hou Hsiao-Hsien (repeat watch)





Books

THE NIGHT GARDENER - George Pelecanos
MONSIEUR PAIN - Roberto Bolaño
SEX CRIMINALS - Matt Fraction & Chip Zdarsky
COLLECTED SHORT STORIES - Flannery O'Connor
THE SHADOW GIRLS - Henning Mankel

DARK MARKET - Misha Glenny



Television


RAY DONOVAN - Ann Biderman - Season 01
BROOKLYN NINE NINE - Dan Goor and Michael Schur - Season 01


Intelligence #2

Cinema in this country is dumbing down. Novels in this country, with some notable exceptions, are dumbing down. Music, strangely, is doing the opposite and is becoming more intelligent and mysterious and sophisticated and the evidence is profound, that audiences are responding as they cherish and obsess and curate and promote Australian musicians who, in turn, are becoming world beaters. I'm no musician. I write imitative prose. I write screenplays. And I die to make films. So, my reminder is always to avoid the dumb shit (which I do with marginal success) and watch and listen and read those who are dizzying in their intellect and skill and ambition.

The smart ones. The crazy ones. The inventive ones. I want them to drag me along in their wake and confuse me and make me feel like I am speaking another language and that I urgently need to study and learn that beautiful, mysterious language with which they are speaking and laughing and singing.

A writer like Roberto Bolaño does that me. I read his words and reel at the intelligence and fire and wit and aggression. Yet I also know I am in the hands of someone who is trying to nurture me with the brilliance of their own insight and knowledge. Something the rest of us can only dream of and, more importantly, aspire to. Filmmakers like Claire Denis and Nuri Bilge Ceylan do that to me. The mystery of their images, rhythms and narratives makes me surrender my laziness in listening and open my senses, pores and unconscious to another way of seeing.

These are celebrated names yet a wise filmmaker in Australia never mentions names like these when looking for support or financing. A wise filmmaker mentions the populists or the pragmatic ideologues. But why? Populism has become a violent dogma in our art and politics. Yet populism, having conservatism at it's core, diminishes us. Stories, art, words (as with dance and song) have sustained us since forever with their ability to guide us and provide us with transcendence. Yet, they are not expected to be a fleeting experience. With mystery and intelligence and riddles within riddles at their core, they are designed to be retold, reread, reviewed, rethought over and over. The populists demand neatness, explicitness, resolution, clarity. All things which allow us to watch, forget and never learn. Why? Because the populists live off the culture of consumption. A film is just another product. Why are so many filmmakers now straddling advertising and filmmaking. Yes, you make a living. But it's more sinister than that. The filmmakers are no longer having to disappear into bravery, audacity and adventure. They no longer bring stories back from the brink. They sell us stories already told. And, for me, I could care less. Our films now sells us values just as ads sell us products. The films I watch that sell the inflated myth of Australian hypermasculinity or anglo mateship or feminine romanticism are just as much bullshit and fiction as an ad that sells me a deodorant the use of which will wash me like an ocean wave.

It's not that I wasn't made for these times. I don't harken back to any glory days of cinema, as much as I might cherish films of those eras. I am more excited by the speed with which words, images, rhythms, wit and intelligence are used, recycled and reused in contemporary times. Yet, the populist dogmatics (most easily identified as those who can recite certain books of 'how to write a screenplay' but also disguised in the form of many more apparently forward thinking filmmakers with a dark heart of fear of failure or commercial (!) irrelevance lurking beneath the skin) don't see the sinister and retrogressive conservatism that lies at the heart of their desire to push a 'way of telling'. They don't see that this anti-intellectualism, this fear of the new, is just as phony and dangerous as that espoused by the maniac conservatives running our country. There should no longer be a way of telling. These should be set free. The dogmatics talk lies. They are nostalgics afraid to let stories embody the recklessness and progressiveness of youth, the intelligence of the young women and men beating down the doors of the ways we speak and think and the implicit violence that lies at their heart. They should be run out of the institutions and off the film sets. Let them face the insecurity of those others who have no choice but to find a new way to speak because, outside of the institutions and off the sets, the language of life is changing and accelerating all the time. All the time.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Intelligence #1



reblog from Biblioklept

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Touchstones #3


Touchstones #2

Touchstones #1

Lost #6





Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Lost #5





“Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.” 
Charles Bukowski

Monday, January 19, 2015

Lost #4


“Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going to never was there, and where you are is no good unless you can get away from it”
pic: Boogie
words: Flannery O'Connor 'Wise Blood'

Lost #3






Lost #2






Saturday, January 17, 2015

Lost #1