Recently played

  1. 'Los Angeles' – The Bird And The Bee (Recreational Love, 2015)
  2. 'Here in Heaven 4 & 5' (CFCF remix) – Elite Gymnastics (Ruin 3, 2012)
  3. 'Zionsville' – Khuangbin  (The Universe Smiles Upon You, 2015)
  4. 'Falling' – Haim (Days Are Gone, 2013)
  5. 'Formation' - Beyoncé (Lemonade, 2016)
  6. 'Excuses' - Mount Saint (Mount Saint EP, 2015)
  7. 'Hard to Find' – The National (Trouble Will Find Me, 2013)
  8. 'Somebody Else' – The 1975 (I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it, 2016)
  9. 'Work' - Rihanna (Anti, 2016)
  10. 'Main Street' - Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band (Night Moves, 1976)
  11. 'Empty' - Garbage (Strange Little Birds, 2016)
  12. 'Gardenia' – Iggy Pop (Post Pop Depression, 2016)
  13. 'Sarah' – Alex G (Trick, 2015) 
  14. 'Hands in the Dark' (unreleased 12" version) – Chromatics (2016)
  15. 'Driving Me Wild' – Bryan Ferry (Avonmore, 2014)
  16. 'City Wrecker' – Moonface (2014)

Gesamtkunstwerk

On the beach

White rabbit


Fred Topel: How do you make a genre film your own?

David Mamet: Well, you can't help but make a distinct movie. If you give yourself up to the form, it's going to be distinctively your own because the form's going to tell you what's needed. That's one of the great things I find about working in drama is you're always learning from the form. You're always getting humbled by it. It's exactly like analyzing a dream. You're trying to analyze your dreams. You say, 'I know what that means; I know exactly what that means; why am I still unsettled?' You say, 'Let me look a little harder at this little thing over here. But that's not important; that's not important; that's not important. The part where I kill the monster – that's the important part, and I know that means my father this and da da da da da. But what about this little part over here about the bunny rabbit? Why is the bunny rabbit hopping across the thing? Oh, that's not important; that's not important.' Making up a drama is almost exactly analogous to analyzing your dreams. That understanding that you cleanse just like the heroes cleanse not from your ability to manipulate the material but from your ability to understand the material. It's really humbling, just like when you finally have to look at what that little bunny means. There's a reason why your mind didn't want to see that. There's a reason why you say, 'Oh, that's just interstitial material. Fuck that. That's nothing, right?' Because that's always where the truth lies, it's going to tell you how to reformulate the puzzle.

– David Mamet interviewed by Fred Topel for Diary of a Screenwriter

Interstitial

Reproductive cycle



Watching Howard Hawks' The Thing From Another World (1951). Above: Dr. Carrington attempts to communicate with the monster, with disastrous results; below, in Prometheus (2012), Weyland attempts to communicate with the Engineer, which also ends badly. The Hawks-produced movie based on John W. Campbell's Who Goes There? (1938) is directed by Edward Lasker, or not, depending on who you read. It feels like a Hawks: rammed with characters and jibber-jabber to unintentionally comic effect. There are no close-ups, not even of the alien's disembodied hand which becomes reanimated after it's severed, the surrounding observers (nearly all talking roles) clustered like a Rembrandt:


The movie is more of a western than a sci-fi or horror. The Antarctic base looks like a homestead, there's a posse and a Rio Bravo-like siege. Captain Hendry and his airmen are all guts and thumbs. They use thermite to excavate the frozen spacecraft ("A million years of history are waiting for us in that ice!") which causes it to explode ("Well that's just dandy!"). They attack the alien with kerosene ("Here's where we start cooking!") and set fire to the hut. Hendry opens the door on the thing, closes it fast and everyone shoots at it forgetting they also have men posted on the other side of the wall ("Bob, next time raise the sights a little!"). The movie's Cold War message is not so much clear as embedded: alien invasion or not, our planet is not in good hands.

In between the yammering are the sequences that will inspire the original Alien and John Carpenter's 1982 remake, including a spooky corridor showdown that becomes genuinely dire when Dr Carrington tries to talk the monster down. (Goatee and significantly Russian-looking hat = doomed.) All three movies – the two Things and Alien – take inspiration from HP Lovecraft's equally disastrous trip to the ice At The Mountains of Madness (1931). But how funny to see Ridley Scott's Prometheus in it.

If you close the door the night could last forever


I can pick 'em. Netflix has announced it will cancel Bloodline after season three. Bloodline was easily the best thing Netflix has produced but after seeing what happened to House of Cards maybe it's best to stop at the Ewoks. The show's creators say they had a plan for five or six seasons. Josef Adalian at NYMag says it's a sign that Netflix is changing and that the show cost '$70 million to $85 million for a 10-episode season'. I wonder if the big cost had something to do with Florida's film incentives program. (Netflix says it will film the final series without incentives.)

Adalian rubs salt in the wound by going on to describe Bloodline as a 'slow burn' that did not generate a rapturous response. Boo. Slow was the point. Even when it stretched (serial TV is hard and 10 is somehow not a graceful number) the plot was a solid modern noir against a sunny tourist backdrop. It was wrong things happening in the right place: everything was fucked. And tight: this was no 28-episode Danish thing that strung you along with mood. This was story.

Maybe it's better this way. If noir was mainstream happy-clappy stuff it wouldn't be noir. Because for all its gloss Bloodline was about the underbelly and people doing wrong, and if there was a popular audience for that we'd all be stuck with Suicide Squad. Narcos, another supposedly 'dark' Netflix series is supposedly about the bad stuff but it's clear which side the audience is meant to be on. That makes Narcos watchable and renewable for more seasons but it'll never be as fulfilling. Bloodline is genuinely twisted and that's a good thing.

Drama

Close to You which I wrote for Radio New Zealand in 2015 has been nominated for Best Drama in the Asia-Pacific Broadcasting Union (ABU) Prizes 2016.

The cast of Close to You is John Wraight, Victoria Gillespie, Rebecca Gumley, Francesca Emms, Mark Atkin, AJ Murtagh, Sebastian Macaulay and Nina Smith. Produced and directed by Adam Macaulay. Recording and sound design by Marc Chesterman. Production assistance and location management by Francesca Emms.

You can stream the production here.

The short story on which the drama is based first appeared in the Listener and is available as part of the collection Here She Comes Now on Kindle, Smashwords amd iTunes.

Misc

Tell me your troubles and doubts


Elliott Chaze's stomping 1953 noir classic Black Wings Has My Angel is available in a new edition from New York Review Books. If you dream of becoming a writer the introduction by Barry Gifford will set you straight.
Chaze was a fairly large man, seventy-two years old when I met him. He was cranky, bitter about having been mostly ignored as a serious writer but making attempts throughout our visit to pretend he didn't really care.
That's one of the brighter bits. But the novel sings. Go buy it. Chaze is very dead so he'll never know it's being rediscovered but that shouldn't deny you the pleasure.

Live it up 'til we crash and there's smoke in the air


If you want to know where technology is headed, imagine your worst fears and double it. So for me that would be the death of hi-fi and having to write fiction on a touchscreen app*. (You're welcome.) But using Dropbox to scan documents as PDFs is my new favourite thing. All those scrawled manuscript pages with their arrows and diagonal slash marks (one slash for moved, two for deleted), their numbered sections (I write 1, 5, 3, 2, 4 in that order. Don't know why), their vertical squiggly lines (vertical in margin = too busy to deal with this now but srsly who wrote this and what were they thinking? Who?) and ticks (ink = updated in ms; pencil in lower right corner = updated in digital ms, discard this page), their diagrams (always the same four transparent boxes with only the beginning of a name in one) are now preserved forever in the cloud until the power cuts and our digital footprint is deleted forever. I used to think it was important to keep things. Now I think it's important to throw them away.

Pic: Thuy An Luu as Alba in Jean-Jacques Beineix's film of Delacorta's Diva (1981). How short life must be if something so fragile can last a lifetime.

*Update. Hell froze. I've been tapping away on my iPad screen to convert my previously published short stories into ebooks which are available at Amazon and Smashwords. Word 2019 on a touchscreen is a revelation. Still working on getting the novels in digital. And on getting the new new novel finished. Developing...

Shut the door, baby

Simon Reynolds: You mentioned the street edge to Suicide, but there's two sides to the songs—on the one hand things like "Frankie Teardrop" or "Harlem" are apocalyptic, and then there are Suicide songs that are almost religious, with hymnal, trance-inducing melodies and this devotional aura of tenderness and grace. Do you have religious or mystical feelings?

Alan Vega: I guess I do. I don't subscribe to any particular religion but, to me, there is some power out there. One day I did have this religious experience—I was staying in this brilliant art critic's home for three months, and I found a 90-page pamphlet on infinity written by this college professor and started reading it. I wasn't stoned or anything, but I suddenly saw those two parallel lines that start out at infinity and meet. I got a picture of the universe and understood what infinity was for one-tenth of a second. And then it was gone. I tried to hold on to it, but it dissolved. I put the book away and then, a day or two later, I wanted to read it again. I looked all over, but it had gone. It was like the book never existed.

-- Simon Reynolds' interview with Alan Vega is one of the best you could read. It's at Pitchfork.com.

You're talking about memories

I wanted to find a passage I remembered from a novel I'd read in 1993. I had the book -- first edition, hardbound. I got it down from the shelf and flicked through it for a good 10 minutes but couldn't find the passage. But I could remember a phrase from it, and I had a copy of the book as an epub. So I opened the epub on my Nook, searched for the phrase and found the passage in seconds.

Digital beats paper.

Later that week I wanted to find a newspaper article about a person which I had saved as a PDF but I couldn't remember the person's name. After searching my laptop for every related phrase I could think of I looked in the Moleskine I've kept since 2010, in the last pages where I always put names, and found the person, and was able to locate the article on my hard drive immediately.

Paper beats digital.

From a late night train

INTERVIEWER
How much rewriting do you do?

HEMINGWAY
It depends. I rewrote the ending to Farewell to Arms, the last page of it, thirty-nine times before I was satisfied.

INTERVIEWER
Was there some technical problem there? What was it that had stumped you? 

HEMINGWAY
Getting the words right.

-- Ernest Hemingway interviewed by George Plimpton for The Paris Review, Spring 1958

It is not dying

Shirley Halperin: Are you worried about artists making a living in the near future?

Trent Reznor: Absolutely I am.

Jimmy Iovine: We all should be.

Reznor: I've dedicated my whole life to this craft, which, for a variety of reasons, is one that people feel we don't need to pay for anymore. And I went through a period of pointing fingers and being the grumpy, old, get-off-my-lawn guy. But then you realize, let's adapt and figure out how to make this better instead of just complain about it.

-- Eddy Cue, Robert Kondrk, Trent Reznor and Jimmy Iovine interviewed by Shirley Halperin of Billboard magazine, June 14 2016

Dualisme





Family plot



I read pissy things about season two of Bloodline but they're wrong: it's terrific. The first season was a complete and compelling noir; the second is a nasty bookend that stands without the narrative insecurities that have become standard for modern sequels / prequels / series. The writing is twisted and the performances are great -- never showy, but never too cool. The direction and editing is just plain solid. Bloodline has the bones of Jim Thompson and the flavour of a Barry Gifford. Go watch it. Best thing you'll see this year.

Mabou

Kate Beaton on moving to Nova Scotia:
"I wasn't sleeping well in Toronto, and I was paying a lot in rent. I needed to get out of the city. Most people leave here because they have to. I can take my job with me."
And on writing a book about Fort McMurray:
"Part of the reason I wanted to tell stories from [Fort Mac] is that that place altered my world," she says. She was sick of reading "exposés by some fucking guy who worked for Rolling Stone, bummed around for two weeks, and wasn't connected to anyone or anything. It grossed me out. They're like 'the smoke peeled back and I saw this wasteland,' and I'm like, 'fuck you, you rich asshole. You stayed in a hotel for two weeks. Cool. Thanks for coming.'"
Full interview by Julia Wright for Vice is here.

@BundleofMIRVs


Rose was clever, spiky, dark, pretty, delicate, tough, inventive, connected and young.

I miss her.