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Haterade never takes a vacation

There is no love lost for Blockbuster in these parts, even though the cinetrix knows first hand that chain stores don't have a monopoly on evil--independent video store owners can be despotic assholes, too.

But in the spirit of caveat emptor, the cinetrix directs you to [and does not in any way endorse] the opinions at I Hate Blockbuster. The best thing about this site is that it's not just disgruntled customers bitching--a lot of the calls seem to be coming from inside the house, if you know what I mean.

And the thread on drunkards should answer the question of whether the kid behind the counter can tell that you're wasted when you come in.

What's your most embarrassing video store story [from either side of the counter]?

Where the Boys Are

Woo-hoo! It's spring break! For the next few days, the cinetrix and the 'Fesser will be repairing to the sunshine state, where I for one am praying Internet access will be almost nil.

While we're gone, why not watch the original Where the Boys Are [and definitely not the Lisa Hartman abomination]? You can see the birth of George Hamilton's savage tan, wonder at just how much Tim Hutton looks like his dad, and imagine the cinetrix getting a job as a mermaid at a restaurant. And if you watch this flick, then I won't be the only one with the aching chorus of the Connie Francis theme song--it's by Neil Sedaka, people--stuck in my head.

RELATED: Handy site Florida on Film offers a brief history of Hollywood East, a calendar of film festivals, a list of movie theaters, even how to be an extra.

Serve it forth

Here's a fun fact to learn and shout, gleaned from the bfi monograph on L.A. Confidential, by your pal and mine, Manohla Dargis.

It begins as an aside:

Paring away Ellroy's narrative liberates Hanson, freeing him to lavish attention on the characters, to burrow into their heads and into their scenes, so that what matters isn't only that Bud beats other men for a living but the self-contempt which ripples across his face when he does. Or that when Lynn first invites Bud into her bedroom--her own, not the one she keeps for the 'suckers'--the book on her end table is M.F.K. Fisher's How to Cook a Wolf.

But then there's a note:

The title serves the moment nicely on several levels, not only because Lynn is about to cook her wolf, but because the late M.F.K. Fisher, Californian and food pioneer, was a woman of terrific creativity, fortitude and independence. Hanson owns the rights to Fisher's collected works. [emphasis mine]

How weird is that, people? What sort of film could he wring from Fisher's writing, and who would play her? Remember, for every Wonder Boys or The Crimson Petal and the White on Hanson's CV, there's a Losin' It or an 8 Mile.

Blind me with science

Jesus wept.

The fight over evolution has reached the big, big screen.

Several Imax theaters, including some in science museums, are refusing to show movies that mention the subject - or the Big Bang or the geology of the earth - fearing protests from people who object to films that contradict biblical descriptions of the origin of Earth and its creatures.

The number of theaters rejecting such films is small, people in the industry say - perhaps a dozen or fewer, most in the South. But because only a few dozen Imax theaters routinely show science documentaries, the decisions of a few can have a big impact on a film's bottom line - or a producer's decision to make a documentary in the first place.

...

Hyman Field, who as a science foundation official had a role in the financing of "Volcanoes," said he understood that theaters must be responsive to their audiences. But Dr. Field he said he was "furious" that a science museum would decide not to show a scientifically accurate documentary like "Volcanoes" because it mentioned evolution.

"It's very alarming," he said, "all of this pressure being put on a lot of the public institutions by the fundamentalists."

What he said. I fucking hate Imax [even as I love the Times for styling it down] and all that cinema of attractions shit*, but science museums self-censoring science? This is ridiculous.

*Except for M.O.M. Stay strong, Barry and Eliot.

 

G.I. Joe will dare

The cinetrix apologizes for the image-heavy posting this week, but how could I not share something this good?

Working for the weekend

My deadline's today. Then I plan to slip into a coma. Why not read my new favorite blog?

Catch you kids on Monday, if not before.

Joan Crawford's Teflon dress

The cinetrix's favorite Western [granted, not much of a contest] plays tonight in New York at Film Forum.

If you haven't seen Johnny Guitar yet, you really can't call yourself a film lover. It's hysterical and hyperbolic.

See it for that godawful theme song. See it for the wussy cowboys. See it for Joan Crawford's amazing stain-repellent white gown.

But mostly, see it for Mercedes McCambridge. I mean, look at her, would you please? She's so butch, yet her voice squeaks like Rocky the Squirrel's. Who wouldn't want to watch her square off against Joan Crawford?

Ye Ye for today

New York cinephiles, hop to it. Today's the last day Masculine Feminine plays at the Village East [to which it moved after a successful run at Film Forum]. Cantabridgians, cue up the Françoise Hardy: The children of Marx and Coca-Cola hit the Kendall tomorrow.

Distributors Rialto have built quite a shiny little site for the Godard reissue to go along with the fancy new 35mm print and new subtitles.

• Pauline Kael on Masculine Feminine
• Godard on Masculine Feminine
• On the set of the film
• Chantal Goya on the Ye Ye Girls site
• a kicky new trailer

RELATED: the bfi on Jean-Luc Godard; "The Film School That is Jean-Luc Godard," MovieMaker

Clockwatchers

Appearances to the contrary, the cinetrix is still swamped. Why not visit with some of my Fellow Travelers?

Me, You, Miranda July, and everyone we know

Third Coasters, your attention, please. Tonight the largest and longest-running women's film festival in the country kicks off its 24th year of Women in the Director's Chair with an evening featuring everyone's favorite artiste, Ms. Miranda July, introduced by Roger Ebert.

This reception and screening honors the prolific work of special festival guest, multi-media artist Miranda July.  The program, curated especially for WIDC, includes video, sound, and a live reading. Spend an evening with this celebrated artist, fresh from her triumph at Sundance, and support progressive film and video.
         
March 16, 2005, 6:00 pm
The Chicago Cultural Center
78 E. Washington St.

The festival itself runs through March 20 at the Chicago Cultural Center, and admission is the cinetrix's favorite price: FREE.

Be sure to catch Nina Davenport's Parallel Lines, one of the best documentaries I've seen in ages, on Friday March 18, at 8 p.m., as well as Jan Krawitz's Big Enough, which the cinetrix saw just last month. The entire schedule is here (with the excellent notation "Homegirl!" to indicate work by a Chicago artist), and the wrap party is March 20 at Danny's. What more could you want?