
Tell me Bruce Dern circa 1971 doesn't bear a striking resemblance to a young Will O (sans the schnoz).

We watched The Howling night before last. Having seen it at the way-too-early age of about eight with my older brother I remembered being scared to death, so during one particular scene where his breathing was becoming labored and his feet were inching closer and closer to me, I asked The Kid, "Is this okay?" "Yesfineitsfine" was his reply, eyes glued intently to the screen.
Wow, what a great movie. An ethnographic account of paganism and the movie from which Burning Man was born, apparently.
The Kid was so pissed this Halloween when no one knew who his costume was supposed to represent. What? Hasn't every other ten-year-old wanted to dress up as Claude Rains in the 1933 version of The Invisible Man?
Burt Lancaster is a new fave. And it's not just the face. Nor is it just the physique. Actually, this is my favorite part of his biography: Nick Cravat. This life-long friend of Lancaster was also his partner in a doubles acrobatic/trapeze routine in the mid 1930s and 1940s. He starred alongside Lancaster in nine films. In most he was mute. Cravat's daughter attributes this to his incredibly strong east-coast accent.
If you know Bruno S. or even know of him, this* will be of interest. Particularly poignant is his rendering of Mamatschi.
For a class in Effective Communication this past week, we watched the opening scene from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. I, aghast and somewhat stunned, learned that no one, not one, of forty-some people had read the book. I hadn't seen the movie, pretty much because I fail to see how such a profound experience can be turned into something so banal, and because I generally lack appreciation for Julian Schnabel's love of French cleavage. While I see the point in the exercise (for us to have the experience of the patient's perspective), I wonder how such an amazing document (aka: 132 pages written with the blink of a single eye!) doesn't have more power than some crappy, post-modern cinematic reenactment. Super sad social commentary for a Wednesday afternoon.
Tarzan the Apeman is an action-packed adventure, circa 1932. And racy! Who knew that the implication of sex is far more sexy than the real thing? Elephant graveyards, juju, five-time Olympic gold medalist Johnny Weismuller, a super cute and hilarious chimp named Cheeta, actual ethnographic footage and weird allusions to colonialism make an evening with Tarzan worthwhile. Did I mention Johnny Weismuller?
If you see one independent film this year, this should be it.
The number of nuclear warheads in the US, according to a 2002 report from the Natural Resources Defense Council, Nuclear Weapons Databook Project is 10,600 (7,982 deployed, 2,700 hedge/contingency stockpile). The amount of plutonium still in those weapons is 43 metric tons.
"She is a legend. She is a myth. She is Swamp Girl. Growing up on the Okefenokee, abandoned by her parents, Swamp Girl was raised by a black man she calls Pa. Trouble reins for Swamp Girl when another girl who happens to be a psycho prison escapee and her boyfriend force Swamp Girl to be their local Swamp guide. Things get nasty when Swamp Girl battles Convict Girl in an all out catfight." That, a little Ferlin Husky crooning, and more bad ass snakes than you can shake a stick at, makes for fine Sunday night respite.
Which two male characters from David Lynch’s
<--*hint.

I have a deep fondness for the work of Justine Kurland, so I thought I'd share this nicely packaged website that exhibits her recent work. I'm still favoring her older photos, stage right.
Jonathan Raymond. The book was later made into a film featuring the inimitable Will Oldham. That's a lot of good stuff in one place.
The documentary The Business of Being Born (Rikki Lake & Abby Epstein) has been made available for viewing online. That's nice. What's not so nice is the message. I wanted to like this movie, I really did. But as my partner and I sat down to watch, it was pretty clear within the first two minutes that all of the positive popular press this movie has received has been seriously undeserved, and worse, uncritical. (A crucial exception is this Slate piece.) Not only did I not like this movie for its dubious historical, epidemiological and professional commentary on birth in the United States, I also didn't like that it was horribly elitist, classist and, yes, racist. This in all of the worst ways that information packaged for general consumption can be: coercively.My partner referred to it as the NY/LA “boutique” image of the perfect childbirth. Of course, we all want women to have this intervention-free option. But for some of us, there may not be the luxury of an uncomplicated pregnancy and childbirth. And that can make us feel like we've lost control. It became pretty clear by Rikki's third hat change and overly dramatic forward-leaning, finger chapelling attentiveness, that this movie was primarily about women trying to either regain or maintain that control. Not until I was 1 hour and 9 minutes into the movie did I realize that it was not about control of one’s own childbirth experience, as the film lauds, but about control of other women and their experience. Sadly, 'expert' clinicians are also used to meet this end. At one point in the film, Dr. Michel Odent (the OB who also believes men should not be present at childbirth) makes the claim that when a woman gives birth by “caesarean section she does not release [the natural] flow of "love hormones" [oxitocin], so she is a different woman than if she had given birth naturally...and the first contact between mother and baby is different.” Here Odent compares women to monkeys who will reject their babies if delivered by c-section. Upon hearing this, I quite astonished myself and my poor partner, by bursting into tears.
Childbirth is a wonderful, moving, emotional, life-changing event for every woman; the amazing birth footage in this documentary attests to that. What is worrisome, however, is the shocking amount of misinformation the film conveys about childbirth, accompanied by a self-affirming (and often righteous) adamance about the importance of the “right” birth and becoming the “right” kind of mother. This is interspersed with an extreme lack of criticality in regard to the 'big picture' of various practices by those interviewed, including women, social scientists and health care providers. (I should say here that there was a striking absence of L&D nurses in this movie. Not one was interviewed!). Neither was there even a smattering of sympathy for women who have births that don’t go as planned. As a twenty-five year-old first time mom, I had a complicated pregnancy and The Kid was, in the end - thankfully - delivered safely to my arms by cesarean section. But I have known women who have had horrifically complicated pregnancies necessitating close monitoring of both mom and baby; mothers who have had perfectly normal pregnancies and lost their babies in what seemed to begin as an uncomplicated birth; husbands and children who have lost their wives and mothers because of unforeseen problems.
The empowerment of women is not as simple as demedicalizing childbirth. But it is as simple as avoiding shaming women into taking chances for fear of being a “bad mother.” Empowering women doesn't mean demanding we all make the same choices and become the same kinds of mothers; it means allowing us to empower ourselves to become the mothers we choose to be.