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Adventures in cinema: eastern, promises

Center Stage (dir. Stanley Kwan, 1991)

BUYER WALKER ROVER (YIWU) AKA. THERE THEN (dir. Amalia Ulman, 2019) 

A Short History (dir. Erica Sheu, 2017)

Nothing runs like a... virus

In 2018, I was fortunate to be a mere sub-three-hour drive from Memorial Hall, which is where that year's six Norton Lectures in Poetry convened. I made it to five. Since 2009-2010, they've apparently unfolded under the umbrella of the Mahindra Center, the Harvard humanities confab that'd sold its naming rights to the "WORLD'S #1 SELLING FARM TRACTOR*." And why not?

Until recently, the center was under the auspices of a scholar/glad-hander/fundraiser who terrorized women in their employ and published scholarly work written by same under their name. ALLEGEDLY. But during their tenure, this person also leaned on the "poetry in the broadest sense" charge to encompass filmmakers and thus invite Fred Wiseman, Agnès Varda, and Wim Wenders. So, yay? (You're smart people. You can look at the array of prestigious and short-lived Ivy and public/Ivy-adjacent appointments on the CV as proof of merit or, you know, signs of passing on a problem, archdiocese style. ALLEGEDLY.)

Which makes the way clear for 2021's lectures given by Laurie Anderson, a perfect choice in this, our second year of Zoom/COVID. Sad to have missed the first two, but I was fortunate enough to see her third lecture, "The Rocks," which gave a glorious glimpse of what our whole online year-plus could be in some midrashic/Platonic ideal world. I can't wait for her fall presentations.

(Unfortunately, there's another regrettable person of a certain age in the mix, some of whose work I've loved and about whom their accomplished ex's memoir was revelatory.) I encourage you to turn your hearts and your ducats toward India, where the coronavirus runs rampant. Here is one way to help. I welcome learning of/promoting others--please share.

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Adventures in cinema: education and adaptation

Some digital artifacts (expanding on their final papers) from students in the adaptation class that I taught for the first time this semester. 

What a way to make a living

Seduction: The Cruel Woman (1985, dir. Monika Treut)

9 to 5 (1980, dir. Colin Higgins)
Everyone's got their kink. Ja, genau.

Short and sweet on Sesame Street

Put it all together and what do you get? Ding dong clap clap stomp stomp hot dog
(wish there were credits for this, or even an original airdate. the only clue is the little girl's sneakers have Velcro, not laces)

Adventures in cinema: the freaks come out

Thanks to my friend Maura, I recently experienced 1980's The Apple.* Or as I like to think of it, what happens when you watch All That Jazz, Xanadu, and Freak Orlando at the same time. Like, layered over one another with all three audio tracks at top volume. But with the least sexy sexiness and kink ever, somehow. Even the pelvic pops fail to pop.

(Speaking of the divine Ulrike Ottinger, she has a new film out, Paris Calligrammes, available here with French, English, or German narration.)

But seriously, WTF was going on in 1979 to yield so many hallucinogenic music films maudit in 1980? Popeye, Flash Gordon, Times Square, Can't Stop the Music, The Great American Rock 'n' Roll Swindle... (spoiler: cocaine, speeeeeeed, benzedrine, poppers) Out of the Blue, Christiane F.... (spoiler: heroin)

*The reviews on Amaz*n are a fun read. BIM!