Last night I kicked off my six-films-in-seven-days cinema-going marathon with Performance, a British psychedelic gangster movie from 1970 in which James Fox plays a gangster on the run after a murder who hides out in the mansion of washed-up rock star Mick Jagger. Fox tries to convince Jagger he's a juggler, which Jagger excitedly tells him is 'the third oldest profession in the world' (this is pretty cool: I'm a juggler myself).
It's all very silly and highly unbelieveable and not a little decadent, but the radically disjunctive, superfast editing in the early sequences is really something to behold. And there's one shot of an extreme close-up profile of a woman's erect nipple lit to look like the Pyramid at Kheops that I have remembered fondly ever since I first saw this film on TV more than a decade ago.
Plus, James Fox is looking incredibly sexy, even if he did remind me of Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer on occasions. I had never really considered that Giles might be a hotty before, but maybe only because he didn't remove his shirt as frequently as James Fox in this movie.
It's all good stuff, and the 70s aren't looking half as long ago and far away as the 80s. Or they are, but in a way that's more charming, less alarming.
Today I ate my lunch at the cafeteria of a neighbouring hospital, as I often do when I'm hanging around the office and avoiding going home, and a nurse sitting on the next table undid her blouse to show her friend her sunburnt chest and flashed the tattoo nestling atop her tit. I'm afraid to say it, but it just about made my day.
What else did I do today: wrote 4000 words of my article on noise and complexity in the films of Jean-Luc Godard. It's easy and it's good.
Discovered a web-log kept by a French film critic whose work I know a little and who's been moaning a lot about the state of Cannes 2004. Wondered whether I should sign up for a blog on his site since practically all I ever talk about is cinema (since it's practically all I ever do ). I know a lot of you have multiple web-journals scattered all over the place, but I'm a dbutant in these matters. Do you write different stuff in each journal or do you just copy and paste? And, more to the point, how do you find the time?
It's all very silly and highly unbelieveable and not a little decadent, but the radically disjunctive, superfast editing in the early sequences is really something to behold. And there's one shot of an extreme close-up profile of a woman's erect nipple lit to look like the Pyramid at Kheops that I have remembered fondly ever since I first saw this film on TV more than a decade ago.
Plus, James Fox is looking incredibly sexy, even if he did remind me of Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer on occasions. I had never really considered that Giles might be a hotty before, but maybe only because he didn't remove his shirt as frequently as James Fox in this movie.
It's all good stuff, and the 70s aren't looking half as long ago and far away as the 80s. Or they are, but in a way that's more charming, less alarming.
Today I ate my lunch at the cafeteria of a neighbouring hospital, as I often do when I'm hanging around the office and avoiding going home, and a nurse sitting on the next table undid her blouse to show her friend her sunburnt chest and flashed the tattoo nestling atop her tit. I'm afraid to say it, but it just about made my day.
What else did I do today: wrote 4000 words of my article on noise and complexity in the films of Jean-Luc Godard. It's easy and it's good.
Discovered a web-log kept by a French film critic whose work I know a little and who's been moaning a lot about the state of Cannes 2004. Wondered whether I should sign up for a blog on his site since practically all I ever talk about is cinema (since it's practically all I ever do
). I know a lot of you have multiple web-journals scattered all over the place, but I'm a dbutant in these matters. Do you write different stuff in each journal or do you just copy and paste? And, more to the point, how do you find the time?VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
Pondering the same thing myself. I've been slacking on replies and reading friends' journals. I barely get a journal out myself occasionally. I know a lot of people who have their main journals elsewhere and SG as their dirty little secret journal.
Pyramid of Cheops, eh? What a beautiful image. I can see it completely.
You are coy, coy and delightful. I would send you my slightly plush body via any means if I could. I suspect I'd have a lot of fun with yours. And perhaps, we would feel comfortable? I think that some of my relationships with boys were attempts to get inside them, unsuccessful attempts but they've given me some lovely scars.
I know what you mean about the '80s. It seems as if they didn't actually occur in any real way but were simply some sort of broadcast.
Tomorrow is my last day of vacation and then back to the job I abhor. Wish me luck in enjoying it my fullest capability.
oh, and there's no question that Giles is a hottie. for the record.