A frequent posting meant to document my final semester of undergraduate studies. Lazy, wandering journal entries for posterity's sake.
Tuesday i wake up an hour late and miss the live coverage of President Obama's inaugural address. shit. i watch it on msnbc.com later. In global cinema I we watch some beautiful Lumières Brothers shorts and Méliès' A Trip To the Moon (a stunning little feature). i watch them with childlike wonder. In an actualité shot in Indochina, the Lumiéres' camera is chased by gleeful children in loincloths. i am one of those children.
At night, i celebrate the new age of American Hope with Chanos and beer pong. Andrew and I dominate the recently returned Ross and his partner (not in that way) Jeff. Then word of a party takes us to Ellendale. I see some people i know. I tell a junior, "a year from now, when you're in my position... then, you'll understand." A dumb thing to say. I meet Bob, a fresh grad student. I take over the iPod and play Bowie, Jay-Z, and Dre. We retreat back to our homes. Mitch, the actor, relieves himself on the side of church.
Wednesday we watch Dziga Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera in Documentary class. What a wallop. Even more impressive to me was Jean Vigo's A Propos De Nice. I watch Vigo with the same awe that i watch Méliès and Lumiére. A stupid, blissful smile glued to my face. I need to talk to my professor but i don't. The timing wasn't right ... or something stupid.
Thursday we watch What Doesn't Kill You in symposium. Mark Ruffalo was good. Film was trying to be macho and 'real.' Trying. The director talked afterwards and was the most humble director, ex-gangster probably in the history of that combination. I wish his personality would've been more tangible in the film.
Friday, a Paris reunion. Nice to see those buggers. We talk about What Doesn't Kill You and the unforgivable Twolovers. I have a Salvador Dali-esque mustache drawn on to my face. I play Biggie, Jay-Z and Bowie to the indifference of the party-goers. I go to the Pace House to see other friends. Lot of negativity around some of those folks. A 3 30am Canter's trip brings this out. I sit quietly and listen. Its not always negative. A nice little cap to the evening.
Ed Wood blends Saturday into Sunday. Cam and I create a montage of In and Out moments from films. Set to an original song by your humble author. A dinner break takes Flem, Wheelz and i to an art gallery at Santa Monica and Fairfax for a free No Age show. The art crowd no match for the raw intensity of songs like 'Eraser.' Hipsters, Hipsters everwhere, look how well they manage to look as though they don't care. Ed Wood is turned in at 11 50. Prospects of making it to screening night are slim. But it was my last, and it was a proper end. One of many on the horizon.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
The Last Semester: Mike The Uncle
A frequent posting meant to document my final semester of undergraduate studies. Lazy, wandering journal entries for posterity's sake.
After a night of hipsters & coke followed by brown & tecate, i was picked up from my house at 8 in the morn by my cousin's best friend, Jess. Returned home on a saturday for my uncle Mike's 50th birthday. It was supposed to be a surprise (and i think it was). Mike is an amazing person. His oldest son is a year older than me and his youngest a year older than my brother. Our families have been close because of the bond between Mike's parents and my mom's parents. Mike now lives alone in Blythe and runs his dad's Autoparts store. He also drives offroad racecars. And as my dad said at some point in the night, "Its about time this family had something to celebrate. This same group has only been seeing each other at funerals recently. This is good." And it was. Cousin and her boyfriend smoke a J in the car on the way home. I drift in and out of coherence staring at the empty desert.
After a night of hipsters & coke followed by brown & tecate, i was picked up from my house at 8 in the morn by my cousin's best friend, Jess. Returned home on a saturday for my uncle Mike's 50th birthday. It was supposed to be a surprise (and i think it was). Mike is an amazing person. His oldest son is a year older than me and his youngest a year older than my brother. Our families have been close because of the bond between Mike's parents and my mom's parents. Mike now lives alone in Blythe and runs his dad's Autoparts store. He also drives offroad racecars. And as my dad said at some point in the night, "Its about time this family had something to celebrate. This same group has only been seeing each other at funerals recently. This is good." And it was. Cousin and her boyfriend smoke a J in the car on the way home. I drift in and out of coherence staring at the empty desert.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Last Semester: Twolovers
A frequent posting meant to document my final semester of undergraduate studies. Lazy, wandering journal entries for posterity's sake.
First discussion for my philosophy class. Not to be mean but there's some lame people in there. Some kid says the worst movie he's heard about (though not seen) is Slumdog Millionaire because they pronounce "millionaire" like "mill-a-naire." Some pretentious mathematics kid in a wheelchair (he doesn't get an asshole pass because he has a disability) talked at length about how great Benjamin Button was without ever actually saying anything. I think I'll see that friday.
Signed up for film symposium. Leonard is kind of cool. Grampy cartoon that precluded the screening reminded me of a Santa Grampy, inset. I hope to find the VHS tape that I know this from when i go home this weekend. Two Lovers was screened. Painfully realistic, and not in a good way. I've never understood the complaint that things are too real ... until now. I saw myself on screen in some of the worst ways. I could see this being somewhat cathartic for the creator but what did he want an audience to get out of this? Message was clear about 20 minutes in and then he just subjected us to an hour and a half more of tense discomfort. That unease was not worth the message. Not to mention how self-aggrandizing it was. The two lovers in the picture often lobbed compliments at the protagonist (a retarded Marlon Brando-esque Joaquin Phoenix) about how great he was in the sack and what a great "artist" he was (he took black and white photos and loved movies ... here's to transparency). Better movie about a sociopath in New York with love problems? Taxi Driver.
First discussion for my philosophy class. Not to be mean but there's some lame people in there. Some kid says the worst movie he's heard about (though not seen) is Slumdog Millionaire because they pronounce "millionaire" like "mill-a-naire." Some pretentious mathematics kid in a wheelchair (he doesn't get an asshole pass because he has a disability) talked at length about how great Benjamin Button was without ever actually saying anything. I think I'll see that friday.
Signed up for film symposium. Leonard is kind of cool. Grampy cartoon that precluded the screening reminded me of a Santa Grampy, inset. I hope to find the VHS tape that I know this from when i go home this weekend. Two Lovers was screened. Painfully realistic, and not in a good way. I've never understood the complaint that things are too real ... until now. I saw myself on screen in some of the worst ways. I could see this being somewhat cathartic for the creator but what did he want an audience to get out of this? Message was clear about 20 minutes in and then he just subjected us to an hour and a half more of tense discomfort. That unease was not worth the message. Not to mention how self-aggrandizing it was. The two lovers in the picture often lobbed compliments at the protagonist (a retarded Marlon Brando-esque Joaquin Phoenix) about how great he was in the sack and what a great "artist" he was (he took black and white photos and loved movies ... here's to transparency). Better movie about a sociopath in New York with love problems? Taxi Driver.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Last Semester: Goodlands
A frequent posting meant to document my final semester of undergraduate studies. Lazy, wandering journal entries for posterity's sake.
Documentary class at 9 in the morn. Thoughts of being a film professor. Emphasis necessary? Don't like the idea of being stuck in an area of study. See ex-girlfriend's best friend. Ex in Israel now, i believe. Haven't spoken to her. Beginning Filmmaking screened. Cruel and unusual punishment of a documentary filmmaker's child. Discussing 'story,' 'composition,' and 'focus' with a three-year-old is torture. Grizzly Man also screened. Incredible. Both protagonists are children. One dies because of that fact. She'll die, too, but for a different reason ... most likely. Gorky's description of Lumière's first film screening is simultaneously thrilling and frightening. To NewBev for Badlands. I love that film. The perspective is touching. It covers small town folks in a way i'd like to accomplish some day. I finish mom's German-chocolate cake.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Last Semester: Philosophy for College Students
A frequent posting meant to document my final semester of undergraduate studies. Lazy, wandering journal entries for posterity's sake.
Philosophy class, first day. Questions: What is Philosophy? Who am I? Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? Answers (mine): The study of knowledge ... and stuff. A lazy fool. Because. If i knew i wouldn't be here. The class feels like a very "this is what college is like" course. Full of what should be "heavy" ideas that after four years of study feel somewhat hollow. I finish reading Of Mice and Men. It took me over two months. The ending was most satisfying.
Graduate level Global Cinema Pre-WWII at night. Graduate students just as ridiculous as undergraduate students: "For those of us that aren't "Critical Studies" students," the girl asks, not even trying to hide her disdain, "could you lay out what it is that actually want from our film responses? Like should i talk about how my aunt grew up in such and such a time and place and remembers this movie?" Oh, film students. Casanblanca was screened. That movie is so beautiful (made even more astonishing in its 35mm print). Rick Blaine is one of the best characters in contemporary fiction. The close-ups of Ingrid Bergman are breathtaking. Claude Rains is one of my favorite character actors. This is one of those moments in Hollywood where everything and everyone comes together (writing, directing, acting, music, etc.) and produces that which is most rare in Hollywood: art. Beautiful, timeless art.
Philosophy class, first day. Questions: What is Philosophy? Who am I? Why are we here? What is the meaning of life? Answers (mine): The study of knowledge ... and stuff. A lazy fool. Because. If i knew i wouldn't be here. The class feels like a very "this is what college is like" course. Full of what should be "heavy" ideas that after four years of study feel somewhat hollow. I finish reading Of Mice and Men. It took me over two months. The ending was most satisfying.
Graduate level Global Cinema Pre-WWII at night. Graduate students just as ridiculous as undergraduate students: "For those of us that aren't "Critical Studies" students," the girl asks, not even trying to hide her disdain, "could you lay out what it is that actually want from our film responses? Like should i talk about how my aunt grew up in such and such a time and place and remembers this movie?" Oh, film students. Casanblanca was screened. That movie is so beautiful (made even more astonishing in its 35mm print). Rick Blaine is one of the best characters in contemporary fiction. The close-ups of Ingrid Bergman are breathtaking. Claude Rains is one of my favorite character actors. This is one of those moments in Hollywood where everything and everyone comes together (writing, directing, acting, music, etc.) and produces that which is most rare in Hollywood: art. Beautiful, timeless art.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
The Last Semester: Lazy Day One
A frequent posting meant to document my final semester of undergraduate studies. Lazy, wandering journal entries for posterity's sake.
First class of the last semester of school started at 6:00 in the evening. I got out of bed at 12:00. Coffee, two vitamin C tablets, a One-A-Day pill, bagel (cinnamon-raisin). Worked on a Sam Cooke remix that turned out surprisingly good. Class in the big theater at 6:00. Film Theories by a Jon W. Smart guy. Hand and brain worn out by the end of lecture. Rossellini's Stromboli screened. "Dio! ... Dio mio!" Ingrid Bergman's beautiful face screamed repeatedly at the end. Witnessing the fishing sequence was magnificent. Rossellini's realism kind of bores me. I get drunk off white wine and Budweiser American Ale. The beer isn't so good.
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