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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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From an old notebook: The To-Do List

</p>With the 'Fesser at the Somerville Theatre.

clever credits

That's all she wrote. I remember enjoying it because, c'mon, Aubrey Plaza. Also, will Alia Shawkat ever age?

From an old notebook: The Heat

Caught at the Nugget Theatre, Hanover, NH, with the 'Fesser.

I took no notes. It was stupid fun.

I was amused by the Boston-set footage, and I keep pressing my pal Sean Burns' review on everybody, particularly this bit:

I just don’t find Melissa McCarthy as funny as it seems the rest of the world does. I think she’s abrasive; she reminds me of that lady at your local liquor store who smokes the extra-long cigarettes and wears that carpal tunnel sleeve all the time to try to get out of work. It’s probably a matter of personal taste, but I’ve never responded well to comedians who work too hard at being amusing—in Jim Carrey, Jack Black, Robin Williams and Will Ferrell, all I read is desperation. The bigger and louder they go, the more I resent them for pleading so hard. Great comedy looks effortless and is elegant. As an old deodorant commercial said, never let them see you sweat.

Extra props to Sean for namechecking Running Scared in his review but demerits for "ad nauseum."

From an old notebook: The Bling Ring

July 17 at the Nugget Theatre, Hanover, NH.

Once more to the barricades w. Something in the Air [ed., No idea]

why are they in underwear in bed

crickets and peepers sound design

testimony: eyes reading faces

drugs & cars & hip hop

Another slight experience. Mostly I remember the use of Azealia Banks' "212" and the way that Emma Watson's hair moved. My pal KTZ told me I should check out the reality show starring the girl Watson's character is based on. Maybe while I'm ironing.

From an old notebook: Before Midnight

At the Nugget Theatre in Hanover, NH, on what turned out to be the Friday of Darmouth's reunion weekend, June 14 [the day before I left for the Flaherty Seminar]. Oof.

[Discerned from writing over other writing] I had one in my bosom and one in my pocketbook.

Pearl handled.

2. There is a quote

Farther than that ye can see

double exposure

French English Arabic

3. Contact sheets

Kids, I think I overprimed the pump. Sunset especially is tied to a very fraught moment in my life. This one, I felt distant. Would like to revisit. I still chuckle at Delpy's titty titty pussy snore routine-sex bit. The sort of nastiness that only comes from true intimacy.

From an old notebook: Frances Ha

Caught this at the Savoy Theatre's downstairs digital den in Montpelier, VT, June 10. Forthwith, my notes:

So many honorary degrees!

love the Delarue music

I'm sorry, I'm not a real person yet.

Sophie makes fun of me because I can't account for my bruises.

You smoke inside?

1987

It's just this apartment is very aware of itself.

I love Sophie's frames. 

I like Paris as anti-romance.

It's bedtime for all good children.

What I remember: the screening room and the acidity/angularity of Mickey Sumner. And I was ready to be smitten alongside Noah Baumbach, too. Meh. The next day I couldn't remember a thing.

IFFBoston 2012: God Bless America

At this late-night screening at the Somerville Theatre, I sat two seats over from director Bobcat Goldthwait's friend of many years, Tony V. [who plays the pedophile in the pancake house, if you must know], which put me in the comedians-giving-each-other-the-business-badinage crossfire. [See below.]

Here's what I wrote on the back of a Brattle Film Foundation membership form about God Bless America:

• "This is a v. violent movie about kindness." - Tony V.
• It's go time.
• Gun Crazy
• Network
• Little Murders
• Taxi Driver
• Bonnie & Clyde
• "Oh, Frank would shoot you right in the fucking mouth."

What I remember: Liking it so much that I made a point of recommending it to friends who'd worked for a tabloid that rhymes with Muss Meekly; laughing through the whole Q&A; enjoying Freddie Rumson going vigilante. I later rewatched it with the 'Fesser and Oat Soda on Netflix Instant, and a fine time was had by all.

IFFBoston 2012: Kid-Thing

KID-THING (clip) prank call from NoBudge on Vimeo.

Oh, Kid-Thing. What a creepy little picture from the Zellner boys. Here's what I wrote on a napkin:

• Bachrach wordless singing
• '70s movie blonde
• Jackie Earle Haley

What I remember: Really liking the tomboy stylings of protag Annie, especially her problem-solving mixed with secrecy mixed with random cruelty; feeling sad when Susan Tyrrell, who played Esther and was so magnificent in Fat City died this summer.

“The last thing my mother said to me,” Ms. Tyrrell said in a 2000 interview with LA Weekly, “was, ‘SuSu, your life is a celebration of everything that is cheap and tawdry.’ I’ve always liked that, and I’ve always tried to live up to it.”

IFFBoston 2012: For Ellen

So Yong Kim's films sound totally up my street, but For Ellen was the first I managed to see projected. [It was also the second film I saw at this year's IFFBoston.] I'm not gonna lie -- it kind of irritated me. Basically, I liked Clean better.

Here's what I wrote on the back on my boarding pass:

• shifter on steering yoke hand unheld
• long skinny rocker legs vs. little girl in moon boots
• [illegible] intensity of shopping excursion = audience giggles
• Fish Kill Fea + Crazy Heart
• Alice in Chains chin hairs + Buffalo '66
• wincing btw young De Niro & [illegible "mindless"? "millennial"???]
• Dano bowling Chet Baker hair black nails
• Dano as Gepetto's real boy
• lovely escalator shot
• "It's not real shit. We need to [illegible] real shit."
• Bill W. Clean? 
• Feel like Trigger
• diegetic music fakeout
• Dano's nose
• "In the Still of the Night"
• perfect Dagfin [a guy in grad school early 90s] / Maggie Chung sockhead

What I remember: Feeling impatient. The blueish quality of the snowy upstate New York landscape.

RELATED: FIVE QUESTIONS WITH “FOR ELLEN” DIRECTOR SO YONG KIM

TRIBECA: Did you and Paul hit it off right away? Did you find the energy to feed off of each other?

JON HEDER: Yes and no. I am, by nature, a lot like Butler. And Paul certainly plays a lot of the role “in character,” but if it was strict to the script and so controlled, it would feel like, This is acting. But it wasn’t so controlled, so we could just kind of try different takes and feel things out. So it was him just being very real.

Certainly a lot of times it felt more intimidating—him keeping in character—but Paul’s such a nice guy. He couldn’t do that completely; I don’t think he could be that much of a jerk.

FFDFF / IFFBoston 2012: Beauty Is Embarrassing

The first thing you notice are Wayne's searing blue eyes.

Or at least that's the first thing I scribbled about a doc I can't recommend highly enough: Beauty Is Embarrassing, which played at Full Frame and IFFBoston this spring [I caught it at the former]. You need to know about Wayne White. And then tell your friends. In fact, when my former student Vince -- a gifted artist who transferred to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago -- showed up at Film Forum after I put out a general Facebook call for folks to come see Celine and Julie Go Boating with me this past May, I insisted he see this film about a fellow southern eccentric. Fast-forward to last month, when Vince's status update read:

Makin downhome trash art with one of my personal Southern artist heros Wayne White at 3rdWard! Shit, Yeah! @waynewhitedoc

And here's what I scribbled on the back of a sheet detailing the A&E IndieFilms Speakeasy schedule:

• a family of artist / thrift store art
• Ed Ruscha
• "It's so beautiful it hurts my feeelings."
• Mimi: Valley Girls' Guide to Life
• 15 lb. solid white pine / Randy
• That's the American dream FU $
• Duchamp is a big French fag

RELATED: FIVE QUESTIONS WITH “BEAUTY IS EMBARRASSING” DIRECTOR NEIL BERKELEY