Monday, April 09, 2007

Man, I Would Love This Poster on my Viewing Room Wall...

Quentin Tarantino & Robert Rodriguez's Grindhouse was a high-octane blast, period; most fun I've had in a movie theater in ages. My stepson Mike (Bleier) and I caught the matinee yesterday, and we had a fantastic time, giddy and punchdrunk by the end, juiced on the energy of both films and having laughed more than either of us have at any comedy in recent memory.

I'll post a full review later on, but want to note a few things up front:

1. If you're an old sot (like me), avoid drinking soda or water until the end of the second feature. Man, did I ever have to piss by the end of Death Proof! But I didn't miss a frame of it, and did stay through the credits crawl. Unlike Joe Dante, Tarantino and Rodriguez do not reward we credit-crawl diehards for our loyalty; having to piss even more was my reward.

2. Death Proof's title music is borrowed from one of my all-time favorite exploitation/drive-in scores, Jack Nitzsche's title tune ("The Last Race") for Bert I. Gordon's Village of the Giants (1965), a film which also boasted a bit of the Beau Brummels. The Nitzsche tune always outstripped Gordon's entertaining but lameass flick; it plays beautifully here, and definitely got me in the groove (though the fake previews between the two features already had me there in spades). The Village of the Giants score was Nitzsche's first, followed by his mindbending Performance (1970) score --
  • which Tim Lucas most eloquently discussed in this Video Watchblog post --
  • -- and a truly lovely score for Robert Downey's Greaser's Palace (1972). Hollywood didn't note Nitzsche's skills until a full decade after his debut for Gordon's giant-teen opus: it took his haunting, mournful music for One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) to wake the studios up. Nitzsche further cemented his place in my personal fave film composers pantheon by having Don Van Vliet (aka Captain Beefheart himself!) sing "Hard Work Driving Man", with Ry Cooder on the guitar -- the title tune for Paul Schrader's excellent Blue Collar (1978). A Nitzsche soundtrack compilation album is long overdue. "The Last Race" alone ensures my picking up Grindhouse's soundtrack CD.

    3. Favorite overheard dialogue going in to buy my ticket: "I swore after seeing Kill Bill I'd never, ever watch another damned Quentin Tarantino movie again!" (elderly woman to her friend, en route to Das Leben der Anderen/The Lives of Others)

    4. For most horror fans, whether weaned on drive-in/nabe fare or the DVD renaissance of exploitation and import sf/horror titles, Rodriquez's Planet Terror wears its blood-drenched influences on its sleeve, fusing them into its own confection from the outset (its closest to Rodriguez's The Faculty in its marvelous conflation of genre staples into its own distinctive blend). But Tarantino plays a tighter, odder game. Death Proof's initial structure and pacing (slow, languid, leisurely, dialogue-heavy buildup to a jarring first-third climax) felt eerily, precisely like some of the Crown International films of the '70s, particularly Earl Barton's unforgettable Trip With the Teacher (1975). Tarantino finds and maintains his own groove, too, but Death Proof had me practically flashing-back to those Crown In't opuses, which I have to revisit ASAP.

    What made them work was the way the first third of their films seemed to just piss away screentime with chit-chat, bits of business, and inducing a sort of diversionary torpor -- it was shameless padding, in most of the Crown In't films, natch, but it worked to lull and set up the viewer for having the rug yanked out from under one's feet when the film finally kicked into gear. That's what Death Proof does -- and once it's in gear, it doesn't let up. Also like Crown In't fare, there's troublesome loose threads left blowing in the wind (just as one can't help but wonder what happens to the actress left with the Dodge Charger owner here), but that's part of the package, and kudos to Tarantino for having the chops to just end the film -- bam! -- when it's over. Most viewers with any grounding in '60s exploitation will likely invoke Russ Meyer's Faster, Pussycat, Kill, Kill! (1965) as Tarantino's model, which is fair (and accurate) enough for the film's third act, but the whole is a major Crown In't flashback for me. Listen, just go for the ride.

    5. The faux trailers are a gas. Rodriguez's Machete is perfection (and it precedes the first feature, so don't arrive late), and Rob Zombie's Werewolf Women of the SS is a hoot, too, but it was Edgar (Shaun of the Dead) Wright's Don't that had Mike and I absolutely doubled up with laughter. For Mike, it was just funny -- for me, it summed up the whole Don't school of cheapjack horror flicks with spot-on speed and style; along with Machete, it's the best of the lot. Eli Roth's Thanksgiving is funnier in concept than execution until that last, fleeting shot of -- I think -- the killer humping the turkey with a human head attached to it, which induced helpless laughter again. Roth accurately captures the horrible, washed-out maladroit nature of the worst of the post-Halloween slashers in and of themselves, but is perhaps too young to have experienced the trailers in a theater, which always successfully disguised the utterly drab essence of the films they were promoting. Funnier still, though, was the ad for the Tex-Mexican restaurant, with its vomitous color drainage and singularly unappetizing tableaus of 'food.' All that was missing was the beloved ad for Pic -- but that was unique to drive-ins, not grindhouses, hence its absence.

    6. There's an "original" title card fleetingly in view -- I think it read Thunderbolt -- before the "retitle" title card Death Proof is cut into the print. A brilliant touch, that, and one drive-in and grindhouse mavens recognize as an all-too-familiar trope from the '70s and '80s; as a diehard Mario Bava fan, this was a staple of my diet; I saw my all-time favorite Bava films on drive-in screens and 42nd St. theaters under multiple titles. For instance, Twitch of the Death Nerve and Last House Part II were the same film -- which was test-marketed in Boston as Carnage! -- as were Kill, Baby...Kill! and Curse of the Living Dead. The kind of 'spliced in' title card Death Proof uses was more typical of the '80s retitles: Horror on Snape Island becoming Beyond the Fog, Italian gangster films being repromoted as faux-horror films (Almost Human, etc.). Anyhoot, back to Death Proof and that first title visible for a couple of frames -- anyone catch that first onscreen title?

    7. In all my years of drive-in and nabe viewing, I never saw a "Reel Missing" insert title. And I had at least two decades of viewing experience, from the New England drive-ins to the last gasp years of 42nd Street and New Jersey grindhouses (during my Kubert School and initial XQB years), and baby, those were grindhouses. I savored a number of reel-out-of-order projection fuckups, primarily at drive-ins, but never reels missing. Still, Rodriguez and Tarantino use the device cleverly and with perverse, calculated intent.

    OK, more later! Just see the movie, if it sounds like your cup of tea. It sure was mine!
    _____________________

    Following up on yesterday's Easter Sunday post, the ever-thoughtful Luke Przybylski (not) emails, "It's come to my attention that the link I provided in my last email is not working. The video can be seen by searchin [sic] on Google Video for THE GREAT GLOBAL WARMING SWINDLE." Which you can, like, do or not do. Up to you. I post this info here only for the sake of completion; the video Luke references is bunk, IMHO, but fascinating in and of itself.

    Also following up on yesterday's post comes the following from the Stamford Advocate, compliments of my sister-in-law and artist/photographer extraordinaire Patricia Lambert and from Cathie Kovacs, President/Founding Director of The Wildlife Orphanage, Inc. in Stamford, CT. We're seeing these accelerated birthing cycles in VT, too -- further localized evidence of the climate change's impact on regional flora and fauna:

    Local warning on warming
    By Tim Stelloh
    Staff Writer


    April 8, 2007

    The impact of climate change on wildlife may seem like a distant issue for this area - affecting polar bears in the Arctic shelf, for instance. But the increasingly mild weather may be changing the mating cycles and migration patterns of animals in the region.

    Squirrels and raccoons are being born far earlier than usual, said Heather Bernatchez, director of development for the Stamford-based Wildlife Orphanage, which rescues and rehabilitates animals in
    Fairfield County.

    Newborn gray squirrels arrived almost two months earlier this spring than they did a decade ago, she said. "They used to be born in May," Bernatchez said. "Now they're coming in at the beginning of March."

    Raccoons are being born about a month earlier and nursing mother raccoons are turning up in daylight near homes and searching for food, she said.

    "We had a fox rescue last Friday, and this guy was 4 weeks old, which means they are also a month early," Bernatchez said.

    The influx of calls about newborn squirrels discovered in felled trees and foraging raccoons has increased the workload and strained the Wildlife Orphanage, she said.

    "We can't get ready early enough in the season. It's a much longer season than it used to be," she said.

    The orphanage does not care for deer because of space restrictions, Bernatchez said.

    But deer stay healthier during mild winters and in turn have higher reproduction rates, state Department of Environmental Protection biologist Howard Kilpatrick said.

    That means Fairfield County - which has one of the most dense deer populations in the state - could see a spike in deer-vehicle accidents and deer-related homeowner complaints.

    But Kilpatrick could not say how deer fared last winter.

    A report released on Friday by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, composed of hundreds of scientists from around the world, says the mating changes the Wildlife Orphanage has seen are becoming more common.

    "There is very high confidence, based on more evidence from a wider range of species, that recent warming is strongly affecting earlier timing of spring events." Egg-laying is listed as one of those events.

    Bird migration is another. Milan Bull, the senior director of science and conservation with the Connecticut Audubon Society, said that warming affects species differently.

    "Usually, we have diving ducks in the Long Island Sound," he said. "This winter was so mild all across the East that they weren't forced to come down and winter here."

    Farther north, the lack of ice forced far fewer bald eagles out of Maine and northern Massachusetts and onto the banks of the Connecticut River in this state, Bull said.

    While 50 to 100 eagles usually winter near the river, about 25 did this year, he said.

    Birds such as the wood thrush that migrate north from Central America are also changing migration patterns, arriving a week earlier than a decade ago, Bull said.

    The number of seals following fish south from Canada and Maine into the Sound was also down this year, according to Tim Gagne, spokesman for the Maritime Aquarium at Norwalk. which is completing its annual seal census.

    While all the data from the count has not been analyzed - and a warm winter does not necessarily correlate with a low seal count - "it stands to reason that milder conditions in all of New England made the annual winter migration south less necessary for many seals," he said.

    It's not a matter of 'choose your reality' -- it's a matter of 'choose to ignore reality' or 'choose to engage.' As I said yesterday, the duality argument is a false one. 'Nuff said.
    _________________

    Oh, shit, I misplaced my Criswell book yesterday while cleaning up.

    I'm still amid chaos with my books and such as the post-move transition continues. There's hope, as David Gabriel (and his coworker Josh) started work in earnest last week on the basement renovations, which will result in shelving for all my library. But that's still at least a month away from completion, the unpacking and shelving of the collection even further off, and I'm daily tripping up on my inability to lay my hands on books I need (for CCS class, primarily).

    Anyhoot --

    I predict -- as soon as I find the Criswell book, I'll post today's prediction.


    Have a Great Monday, one and all!

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    Saturday, April 07, 2007


    Congrats to Mike Bleier!

    First off, it's a special day in our household, as my stepson Mike, Marge's younger son (of two), is graduating from his electrician apprenticeship program today. It's technically The Vermont Registered Apprenticeship Program, under the Vermont Department of Labor's umbrella; Mike put his four years in with the Hartford Career & Technology Center (Hartford Electrical 4). He still has his exam in June ahead (to get his journeyman's license), but this is a great day.

    We're off to Randolph, VT (coincidentally, not far from where Mike and his wife Mary were wed last summer) for the graduation later this morning, so, well, congrats to Michael Bleier!
    _______________

    But it's the CCS student sites I have to share with you this morning -- this is the last of 'em I've got links to. I'll post a roundup and permanent link from this blog tomorrow!

    First up,
  • Morgan Pielli dances paper clips and dinosaurs on his site, which you know rings the chambers of my heart and chimes in my brain.
  • Morgan's character and concept Dinosaur Jones is still in its formative stages, though there's this -- and more -- awaiting you at Morgan's online outpost!

  • Bryan Stone's comics, sketchbook images and much more malingers here, including his Frogherder strips
  • (of which the sample shown here is strip #364!) -- much to see, read, and enjoy on Bryan's site. It's about to undergo some revisions, so don't be surprised if you catch it mid face-change soon.

  • Christopher Warren -- aka Radical Warren -- has staked out this virtual turf as his own, with attitude!
  • Here's one of my current faves from Chris's site; he's an aggressive online comics creator, and there's also numerous links to other online comics sites from Chris's digs, which also offer some lively diversions.


    (Chris did me a good turn by handling all the scanning and digital cleanup tasks on my contributions to the Accent UK Zombies anthology, so I owe him big time, despite the meager miserly paycheck he earned from yours truly on that gig -- hence his site being our CCS sendoff for Saturday. Enjoy!)
    __________________

    Since my intro to Criswell yesterday only managed to provoke my compadres (nyuk, nyuk), I'll present today's unadorned, save to say -- uh, maybe Criswell got his year wrong on this one. We can only hope!:

    Criswell Predicts!

    American Tragedy 1980

    I regret to predict an American tragedy on November 11, 1980! An instant newsflash from the White House will tell of the first suicide of an American president! This President will be popularly elected with much promise, but the Public will turn against him, and he will be the most hated official in all history. I predict that the suicide will take place in the lonely small hours of the morning. A shot will be heard, and upon investigating, his wife will find the sprawled body of her husband in his private office. A gentle rain will be falling, as will the tears of all Americans! The dead man did not fail us, we failed him!

    Have a great Saturday AM, one and all!


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    Friday, April 06, 2007

    Your Friday Gruel:
    Criswell, Bush and CCSers

    I have friends who worry about the time they think I waste.

    Like, blogging. Like, just doing nothing. Like, reading. Like, watching movies. Like, staying for all 172 minutes of David Lynch's exterior dreamscape Inland Empire. Like, reading comics. Like, drawing comics. Like, writing instead of drawing comics. Like, teaching. Like, having a family and raising kids. Like, getting married. Like, getting a divorce. Like, getting remarried. Like, drawing, instead of doing something useful, like plumbing. Like, working as I did co-managing a video store instead of drawing.

    You name it, something I do, one of my friends hates, and thinks I'm wasting my time, doing something my other friend thinks is worthwhile, and wishes I would just do more of, and wishes I would quit doing that other thing they hate, 'cuz it's a waste of time.

    Well, my friends, rest easy, now.

    And if you're "a very dear friend," you could really benefit.

    You see, Criswell had it aallllllllll covered, way way back in '69.

    Criswell Predicts!

    I predict that it is entirely possible for you to bequeath and will to someone your unspent time at your death!

    A new insurance policy soon to be issued, will permit funds to be paid to someone you wish to honor after your death, with full expenses on some trip which you could not take!

    This insurance policy will be listed in your estate as top priority, and cannot be cancelled by the whims of your relatives or the executor!

    It will be pre-paid out of your estate... a most wonderful gift... of your unspent time... plus expenses... for a very dear friend! You can bequeath your unspent time!

    ___________________

    Ah, but Criswell didn't predict Bush. He and his may spend everything. The massive debtload these motherfuckers are generating daily has spiraled into the realm of the cosmic, and that ain't the half of it.

    It's been a one-two-three sucker punch week from the White House, and it's only Friday. TGIF.
  • The whole veto dance has been quite a spectacle, with the most outrageous demonstration yet of the 'blame game' in recent memory
  • (duh -- the President vetoes, he denies the funding). Amid all that, most Americans miss the
  • Bush shenanigans that really hit home -- like, the very air we breathe --
  • -- which of course the superficial "news" that passes for news for most citizens considers beneath notice.
  • and demonstrating once again how well "Georgie plays well with others" and is "a uniter, not a divider" (another of his campaign promises that rings magnificently false)

  • This Pentagon leak surfacing the same week President Bush blasted the Democrats (threatening just this kind of consequence -- sorry, already in place, folks!) is a brutal blow to military families.
  • Just a little Easter gift from Defense Secretary Robert Gates and our beloved Prez.

    Better beef up those vet hospitals, and fast, Congress.

    With what's left of his term in office promising to only escalate all this madness into a high-density concentration unimaginable today, hang on, America!

    The fiscal hits everyone outside the elite continue to endure are taking a real toll, without a whisper of the consequences Katrina, annual wildfire season, and natural disasters play as a component of that toll. We're amid tax season, after all, wherein the Alternative Minimum Tax is delivering unexpected bodyblows to many middle-class families, the inevitable implosion of sub-prime lending and mortgage scams are gobbling up vulnerable family homes like Pac-Man, and the credit load of most Americans has no historical precedent. Gas prices hereabouts have soared over 30-cents-per-gallon in less than four weeks, with the promise of climbing higher (over $3 per gallon) with spring 'driving season' a-comin' in.

    For our part, Marge and I have battened down the hatches as best we can in pragmatic, day-to-day ways we can live with. None of us can displace these lunatics in office, though a fresh election season is coming 'round the bend -- but we can focus on our own corner of the asylum. We lucked out with the risk of relocation -- the purchase, the sale, the move went surprisingly well, it all played out in our favor despite the collapsing real estate bubble (thanks to the unusual real estate market Marlboro remains). We're working on our wills, we've eliminated our credit card debts, we've relocated to a place closer to our respective dayjobs, minimizing our driving and gasoline consumption, and we've finished our annual income tax ordeal (more fun guaranteed next year!).

    So it goes. Good luck with your own corner of the asylum; it's worth the effort cleaning up, I can now say.
    ______________________

    Time for more Center for Cartoon Studies student sites, man!

  • Jiffy Joe Lambert is a one-man comics band with a pen-and-brush line slippery as black ice, graceful and playful and mesmerizing -- check it out.
  • Joe also posts more photos than anyone at CCS, I think, though I'll be immediately corrected if I'm wrong; anyhoot, if you want an inside look at CCS life and some great art and comics, check out Joe's sublime online submarine.

    Some cartoonists inhabit their own interior worlds, and lucky us when they share them so completely. There's a handful of cartoonists in this rarified strata who come to mind, and lo and behold, we at CCS are fortunate enough to have another of this species among us.
  • Here's your ticket to Planet Dane Martin. I love visiting planet Dane Martin, with its unique lifeforms, social customs, lurking dangers and delirious curiosities. There is no other planet like Dane's, and there are times I wish I could live there.
  • There are also times I am greatly relieved I don't live there, but those moments make me love it all the more. I can't explain it any better than that.

    More tomorrow -- have a great Friday, if you can...

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    Thursday, April 05, 2007

    Are you one of...
    "The Frigids"??

    And: Se7en Inches of Snow in Windsor, VT...

    ... and it's still sifting down. Marge has no school today (got the call at 5 AM). I'm waiting on whether CCS is in session today or not; I'm ready to go, if it is -- if I can get out of our driveway in time.

    Spring in Vermont. The storm hit as Jay Hosler was speaking at CCS yesterday morning -- Jay was terrific, BTW, just a great speaker and a grand fellow.

    I (and CCS) thereafter treated him to lunch, made sure he had the safest route from this neck of the woods to his destination (Williams College in Williamstown, MA) in hand (Mapquest would have sent him up and over the single worst road in southern VT during a snowstorm!), and after lunch Jay was on his way. Whew -- 4:27 call from Jay confirmed he made it, safe and sound, to his destination; I rested easier last night knowing that.

    And now, thanks to my old amigo Steve Perry -- thanks, Steve! -- I've a new book of Criswell predictions to share with you! Your Next Ten Years: Criswell Predicts (1969, Droke House) is another gem of stunning, breathtaking, gut-busting predictions from Ed Wood's favorite psychic -- and with the gift of hindsight, we can see for ourselves oh how right Criswell was!

    As with last year's series of Criswell predictions posted to this very blog, it's best that you read these with Criswell's own voice resonating in your mind. If you need a refresher, just get your hands on a DVD or vhs copy of Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space or Night of the Ghouls or even Orgy of the Dead and listen, oh my friends, and remember!

    Criswell Predicts!

    Also, as before, I will lovingly archive every odd spelling, peculiarity of grammar, and every beloved component of Criswell's uncanny writings.

    We'll start this series with something suitable for breakfast, the return of winter, and also because Jay Hosler heralds originally from Indiana. He and his family apparently survived the blasphemous cult that emerged from his home state in the mid-'70s, for nothing Jay ate at either breakfast or lunch betrayed any suspicious connection to this, the most shattering of all of Criswell's predictions in this rare and precious tome:

    The following prediction, based on trend, precedent, pattern of habit, human behavior and the unalterable law of cycle... has best not be read by those who have weak stomachs! A friendly warning to prevent nightmares and traumas!

    If any one in your family is easily influenced or susceptible to fright and horror, it is better that you hide this volume from them.

    In 1975 and 1976, mortuary burial practices will take a strange turn -- that of freezing the dead body for later revival.* This will never be completely a success, and although there is only minor brain damage, organs of the body will not function normally when partially revived.

    Mentally, the revived individual could not comprehend the events taking place. Some are sad, pitiful creatures to behold!

    A strange and loathsome cult will come out of Patoka, Indiana. Some will say they are descendents of the Patoka Tribe of Indians, while others claim they were the Devil's Own! These crazed men and women, and some children, will raid the Morgues where these bodies were kept at frigid temperature, steal the bodies, and devour them. They are brittle and can be eaten like crisp ice cream cakes. Delightful, delicious, human flesh! This cult will soon spread from coast-to-coast, and thousands upon thousands of frozen human bodies will be eaten with relish. This cult will be known as the "The Frigids." Even the bones will be eaten. And the rare delicacy will be the skull of any one under 18!

    Lungs, livers and genitals will be particular favorites.

    So ravenous are the Frigids that morgues will be guarded by the National Militia around the clock, to protect the sacred frozen bodies of the dead.

    It will not be uncommon to see someone walking down the street daintily crunching a mouthful of a frozen person.

    The Law Enforcement Agencies will stand by and permit this dreadful activity due to "freedom of desire" and the new and vicious attitudes of the Liberals.

    The Supreme Court will hand down the decision that "no harm could come from eating dead frozen flesh of humans" and that the "Frigids are in their constitutional right as the dead body could not object and was passive, feeling no pain!"

    This fad of frozen flesh eating will continue on until August 18th, 1999, in spite of squeamish individuals who would rather see it stop.

    In fact, it will stop on that day with everything else, for I predict the end of the world on August 18, 1999!

    * Cryogenics, the art of freezing a dead body for later revival. Many famous men and women who died in 1969 have secretly had this done. A costly procedure and still unproven.

    Thus, Criswell Predicts!

    Have a tremendous Thursday --

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