The cinetrix is recovering from one freelance assignment and getting ready to dive straight into another. She'd rather be blogging, but whaddaya gonna do?
Until that blessed day when she can, you know, collect her thoughts on a coupla movies arrives, why not check out what FOC Sam Adams has to say in the City Paper about this year's Flaherty Seminar. Here's a taste:
During the week of the Flaherty, there are few places on Earth where people care more about filmmaking. But the atmosphere is collegial, not necessarily convivial. Tales abound of filmmakers whose works were found wanting by the seminar's notoriously tough (and, as the week goes on, sleep-deprived) audience.
True 'dat.
Oh, and pour some out for ol' Ingmar by watching De Duva.
Finally, why wait 'til Sunday to read about Manohla gettin' her geek on?
I never became a comic book geek; then, as now, I got my fix from watching movies. Still, prompted by one of my best friends in high school I attended a couple of conventions in the 1970s, which I mostly remember for their grubby carpeting, pasty boys and late-night screenings of old cartoons. I wasn’t interested in superheroes, but I was entranced by the work of Frank Frazetta, the fantasy artist whose paintings of muscular, scantily clad heroes like Tarzan and Conan adorned the covers of 1960s pulp paperbacks. I bought a Frazetta pin that showed a nearly naked woman whose strong, boldly drawn body I admired. She seemed at once hot and cool, powerful and autonomous, a perfect emblem of what my quavering high school self longed to be.
Hot and cool, people. That oughta hold you for a while.