Thursday, July 29, 2010
James Luther Dickinson - "O How She Dances"
Click here to watch Tod Browning's 1932 film 'Freaks'.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Ruth Leitman takes you down the shore to Wildwood, New Jersey, the last great blue-collar carnival town of America. Away from their parents for the first time, rangy girls barge around the boardwalk like baby elephants, scouting for boys and hedonism or else spraying each other with Mace and insults. From grandmothers to go-go girls, the women of Wildwood offer flakes of their lives to an all-female crew. With tales of Wildwood honeymoons, virginities lost to boardwalk strangers, fistfights and babies - these women know they’re funny but don’t realise how much so. The sartorial choices of 90s America are also comic (halo scrunchies/shoulder-less shirts) but, moving beyond the big hair and press on nails, their frank anecdotes serve to provide a snapshot of a place and its people. Filmed on Super 8 for television, Leitman really captures the buzz of the boardwalk’s rides, lights and come-ons so that you can almost sense the dizzy escapism offered by the sea. It’s no wonder that, no matter what, these girls return to Wildwood, year after year, as they grow up and grow old.
Clip after the jump.
Clip after the jump.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
A scene from À Tout Prendre (1964) by Claude Jutra. Two winters ago, buried in some brutalist concrete campus in Montreal, I watched this film on VHS one evening for an essay due in the next morning. The film is the only memory I have of any endeavor from that lost academic year. In a deserted library, under a fluorescent pool of light, I listened with clunky plastic headphones and took militant notes. This scene was the eye of a half-hearted storm. Outside snow fluttered from a chemically pink sky.
[PS: If anyone has a copy of this film, please let me know.]
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Transgressive trash king/film director/apple-of-my-eye John Waters reads his book 'Shock Value' out loud and proud. I shan't belabour my love of John Waters. It knows no bounds (pilgrimages to Baltimore etc.) and it's no secret that I yearn for him to be my mentor/grandpa/husband...