Recently played

  1. 'I've Been Daydreaming My Entire Life' – Washed Out (Mister Mellow, 2017)
  2. 'Artangels' – Grimes (Artangels, 2015)
  3. 'Gronlandic Edit' – Of Montreal (Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer, 2007)
  4. 'Guilty Party' – The National (single, 2017)
  5. 'I Wonder U' – Prince and The Revolution (Parade, 1986)
  6. 'Best of My Love' – The Emotions (single, 1977)
  7. 'Propagation' – Com Truise (Iteration, 2017)
  8. 'Lady' – Chromatics (Kill For Love, 2012)
  9. 'A Quiet Storm' – Slow Dancing Society (I. Lilac Lullabies EP, 2017)
  10. 'Sullen Girl' – Fiona Apple (Tidal, 1996)

Recently played

  1. 'Genesis' – Grimes (Visions, 2012)
  2. 'Golden Dreams' – Deux (single, 2013)
  3. 'The Grooveline' – Heatwave (Central Heating, 1977)
  4. 'Questions' – Amanda Bergman (Docks, 2016)
  5. 'Cochise' – Audioslave (Audioslave, 2002)

The last breath men


Murder by Contract, directed by Irving Lerner (1958) sits on the cusp of hard-boiled 1950s and 1960s counter-culture, spritzed with hepcat chat and a jazz-ish nouvelle vague score before losing control and crashing in the same emotional dead-end as, say, Medium Cool (1969) and Vanishing Point (1971). Movies don't let go of your hand like that any more – certainly not the uptight millennial child-minding service that cinema is today. The director's camera-on-sticks style and the minimal production play out on the backlots and scrub hills that help bring crime in under budget for weekly TV. Perhaps in keeping with its chivalric twist Contract is coy, even prudish with regard to sex but both men and women are strong in it and the violence is nasty and real. When Claude (Vince Edwards) visits a California gun store the shot is framed with a little stand of Nazi flags in center background: Lerner's little note re: where the real killers have come from.

Recently played

  1. 'Range Life' – Pavement (Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, 1994)
  2. 'Playing with Fire' – Nick Leng (single, 2016)
  3. 'Mr Mistake' (Boards of Canada remix instrumental) – Nevermen (2017)
  4. 'Safe Changes' – Talaboman (The Night Land, 2017)
  5. 'Soft Landscape Made Out Of Feathers' – Chihei Hatakeyama (Void VIII, 2015)

Trouble waiting to happen


Is Bloodline better than Breaking Bad? Easily. Season three proves it and closes the deal on the last adult show with guts; real noir, in the real now, smart and clever and dark as all hell. I'm a David Lynch fan but Twin Peaks is the past. This is the future and you missed it. So did Netflix. Everyone did. That only makes it better.

Recently played

  1. 'Bad Liar' – Selena Gomez (single, 2017)
  2. 'Shadow (Acapella)' – Chromatics (single, 2017)
  3. 'Rolling' – Roedelius (single, 2017)
  4. 'Cascades' - Indian Wells (single, 2017)
  5. 'Blood Type' – Turtle featuring Eliza Shaddad (single, 2017)

Soft machine


Prometheus was set at Christmas and Alien Covenant opens the presents a few years later although we have know what is in them since 1979. Forget that one; this is a Prometheus sequel by the sprezzatura merchant that managed Hannibal, Ridley Scott sawing and hammering until the fucking thing stays up, godammit – balancing improbabilities until they have weight; planing edges until they marry. It's a serial killer movie in space. The android David is the monster, the neurotic boy outsider, but Kubrick is the director's god: Scott never really moves past the uplit regency hotel room and the computer that goes crazy. And where Stanley kept quiet Covenant powers in with stark exposition and Trigan Empire scenarios that risk everything although there is a wonderful open-ground sequence which stands in clever contrast to the claustrophobia of the original – which you will have forgotten by now because Prometheus, remember? The word "duty" comes up a lot in the dialogue because the audience is bound to it as much as the crew: investigating that signal, going into that darkened room. Daniels erupts in every scene; Elizabeth Shaw has found peace. There is a nasty fuck-you-for-watching twist at the end that everyone except the victims will see coming. Now we can go back to sleep for another 14 months.

Recently played

  1. 'Real High' - Nite Jewel (2017)
  2. 'Sweep (16 bit Lolitas Vox)' - Blue Foundation (Sweep, 2006)
  3. 'Best Love' - Yuna (Chapters, 2016)
  4. 'Show You The Way' - Thundercat (Drunk, 2017)
  5. 'So Far Away' – Lazerhawk (Visitors, 2012)     
  6. 'Hallelujah California' - Luna Shadows (2016)
  7. 'Love Somebody - Mr Carmack Remix' – Ta-Ku (2016)
  8. 'Hope - Paleman Remix' - Clap! Clap! (2017)
  9. 'In My Room' - New Jackson (2017)
  10. 'T.O.R.' – Gaussian Curve (The Distance, 2017)

All those moments will be lost in time


When I've completed a project I clean my office, throw out my notes and delete the files on my laptop. Now we are in the cloud, logically the next step is to scrub that as well: Dropbox, iCloud, Google Drive ... and hello, Twitter. Who cares what I tweeted at midnight on December 3, 2013 – and even if you did, and could remember, who would have time to scroll back that far? Fresh start: blank page.

In the early days of home computing we feared losing data forever. Now we dream of it.

Lost cities

I blog mostly about movies and music because when I'm writing I don't want to write about writing and pictures need no words. But what director James Gray says in this article by Kevin Lincoln applies to authors and musicians as much as it does filmmakers:
"You know, people assume that because I’m a director, I make tons of money. I am struggling financially,” Gray says. “Now, I’m very lucky I get to do what it is I want to do. I’ve made, good or bad, very uncompromising movies, the movies exactly that I wanted to make, and that’s a beautiful gift, so I’m not complaining about that. But I struggle. I have a hard time paying my bills. I’m 47 years old, I live in an apartment, I can’t buy a house. If I were coming of age in 1973, I would be in Bel Air. The whole reason for this is exactly what we were talking about, where the middle is gone. So now you have franchises, and you have, ‘I made a movie on my iPhone.’ This is the economic system in a nutshell, right? Five directors make Marvel, and then there’s the rest of us who are trying to scrounge around to find the money to make films. And it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: If the audience only gets to see Marvel, then they only want Marvel, and then if they only want Marvel, only Marvel is made. I don’t even have a problem with Marvel. The problem is not the specifics of each movie, the problem is it’s the only movie you can see now in a multiplex, and when it’s the only game in town, you’re looking at the beginning of the death throes of an art form.”
Read the full interview at New York Magazine.

Ce que j'ai fait, ce soir la


Frenzy (1972) is Alfred Hitchcock's second-to-last movie and Brian De Palma's first: the brightly-lit naturalism, the gaudy clothes, the saccharine score, the casual sexism / xenophobia, the misogyny, but most of all that tracking shot in which the camera stalks Rusk and Babs Milligan up the stairs and into his flat before becoming its own conscious entity and backing off and out into a spliced location filmed with the stiffness of Pinewood Studios. There are some Lynchian moments too – the quail on a plate is like Mr X's chicken in Eraserhead (1977), and the framing of Brenda Blaney's painted face before she is killed could be a still from Mulholland Drive (2001) – but it's the staircase camera move that throws to De Palma who grabbed it and kept running, well, forever.

Bourgeois enchantment




Have I seen Killer Elite (2011)? The story is inspired by true events (like all Jason Statham movies) and the director's unimaginative discipline would have benefited The Gunman (2015) but a scene in an Australian gum forest triggered deja vu: was it possible that I was watching Killer Elite for a second time? Why? Why was this happening again?

Go to sleep, everything is alright


Desktop





Confusing fucking world ain't it, man?


Robert Hooks is still amazing as the cool fixer in Trouble Man (1972): he's front-facing with a moral code, like Mike Hammer, and the plot is tight. The movie relies less on its soundtrack than writer / producer John DF Black's bookend Shaft (1971); director Ivan Dixon (he was Kinchloe on Hogan's Heroes) shoots in close-ups that keep the characters in your face while danger lurks in the real-life backgrounds. Watching it now – like Straight Time (1978) – the drama is heightened by these documentary details of nooks and crannies now erased from cities, or at least the fictionally-held versions of them. So it is a confusing fucking world, but the action cuts through it.

Recently played

  1. 'If You Forget Me' – RAC featuring Liset Alea (EP, 2010)
  2. 'Good Girls' – Lany (Lany, 2017)
  3. 'Tune Down' – Chris Joss (Sticks, 2015)
  4. 'California' – Grimes (Art Angels, 2015)
  5. 'Myth' – Beach House (Bloom, 2012)
  6. 'Journal of Ardency' – Class Actress (2010)
  7. 'Komorebi / Mama's Wisdom' – Catching Flies (2016)
  8. 'Higher Ground' – Roland Tings featuring Nylo (2017)
  9. 'She's So Untouchable' – Garden City Movement (2017)
  10. 'Deep Shelter' – Noveller (A Pink Sunset For No One, 2017)

The Dark Mirror

 




Olivia de Havilland in The Dark Mirror (1946), Bette Davis in Dead Ringer (1964), Silvana Venturelli in The Lickerish Quartet (1970).

Kicks


Haywire (2011) is a farewell reminder that Steven Soderbergh is the guy who made Sex, Lies And Videotape (fuck, 1989...): uneven, impulsive, contrary, but there's definitely something good going on. The experiment doesn't yield the expected results but experiments in art maybe shouldn't. Gina Carano was cast for her fight skills like Roddy Piper in John Carpenter's They Live (1988) and has charm enough to get by in the talking bits (she's a lot better than Channing Tatum). Her success in the role got her Fast & Furious 6 (2013), which cineastes will recall is the one with the tank. Haywire feels like a Bourne riposte but Soderbergh says it's his James Bond/Harry Palmer movie. Like The Ipcress File and Horse Under Water it's a find-who-it-is plot, more 'look out behind you' than a Le Carre. The story and accompanying performances are cool to the point of stasis – you wonder if the director was even interested – but because Carano really can fight she runs hot.

Recently played

  1. 'August Twelve' – Khruangbin (The Universe Smiles Upon You, 2015)
  2. 'Sad Sack' – Bo Diddley (Bo Diddley, 1962)
  3. 'Africa Talks to You' – Sly and the Family Stone (There's a Riot Goin' On, 1971)
  4. 'Make 'Em Move' – Sly & Robbie (Language Barrier, 1985)
  5. 'Changing of the Seasons' – Two Door Cinema Club (Beacon, 2012)
  6. 'Etre assis ou danser' – Liaisons Dangereuses (Liaisons Dangereuses, 1981)
  7. 'The End' – PJ Harvey (Uh Huh Her, 2004)
  8. 'Colour of Water' – Rose Elinor Dougall (Stellular, 2016)
  9. 'Undertow' – Warpaint (The Fool, 2010)
  10. 'Highway Patrol Stun Gun' – Youth Lagoon (Savage Hills Ballroom, 2015)
  11. 'Line of Fire' – Junip (Junip, 2013)

Springtime for noir


8 Million Ways to Die (1986) directed by Hal Hartley from a script by Oliver Stone and R. Lance Hill, based on the book by Lawrence Block, with Jeff Bridges as Matthew Scudder. The real murderer was the studio but the movie is a beautiful corpse.

It was one of three noirs for The Dude alongside Taylor Hackford's Out of the Past remake Against All Odds (1984) and Sidney Lumet's The Morning After (1986). Lumet's did-she-do-it started out gripping and bloody (the wardrobe!) set in a realistic sunburned LA we hadn't seen before until the plot became melodramatic and the deadly Alex Sternbergen turned out to be Jane Fonda all along.

Hackford's upgrade of Jacques Tourneur's 1947 noir likewise ripples with smug potential. Bridges' Terry is a born victim and the sleaze casting is off the scale: James Woods and Richard Widmark alongside Saul Rubinek (get the way he says "fuck off") and the always disenfranchised Dorian Harewood. The new script recast Jane Greer's femme fatale as a spoiled girl which disempowered the character and robbed the story of its bitter center but Rachel Ward's replicant allure is a counterpoint to the sordidness: by end frame you want to go back and watch the movie again just in case things turn out better next time.

Also in 1986 was John Frankenheimer's 52 Pick-Up, the best Elmore Leonard dramatisation short of Get Shorty. Roy Scheider and Ann-Margret are the real thing, John Glover is a nasty piece of work and Clarence Williams III is the end of times. Grainy stock, fast cars and big guns, no CGI: it was an unhappier time.

Recently played

  1. Texada – Blue (2016)
  2. Electric Youth – Innerworld (Deluxe) (2014)
  3. Lloyd Cole / Hans-Joachim Roedelius – Selected Studies, Vol. 1 (2013)
  4. Jon Hassell – Aka / Darbari / Java: Magic Realism (1983)
  5. Nite Jewel – Liquid Cool Remixes EP (2016)

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.

Reference

"It's very important to remember that no matter how far I might diverge or find freedom in this format, it only is free insofar as it has reference to the strictness of the original form. And that's what gives it its strength. In other words, there is no freedom except in reference to something."

Powder room





Pulp

Shane Black: "Well, there was a kind of movie I always, a kind of book I always loved growing up. I loved detective stories. I could do those for the rest of my life probably."

-- Talking to Steve Weintraub at Collider about The Nice Guys.

Throw a kiss and say goodbye

Walter Becker: Donald had a house that sat on top of a sand dune with a small room with a piano. From the window, you could see the Pacific in between the other houses. "Crimson Tide" didn't mean anything to us except the exaggerated grandiosity that's bestowed on winners. "Deacon Blues" was the equivalent for the loser in our song.

Donald Fagen: When Walter came over, we started on the music, then started filling in more lyrics to fit the story. At that time, there had been a lineman with the Los Angeles Rams and the San Diego Chargers, Deacon Jones. We weren't serious football fans, but Deacon Jones's name was in the news a lot in the 1960s and early '70s, and we liked how it sounded. It also had two syllables, which was convenient, like "Crimson." The name had nothing to do with Wake Forest's Demon Deacons or any other team with a losing record. The only Deacon I was familiar with in football at the time was Deacon Jones.

(...)

Donald Fagen: The song's fade-out at the end was intentional. We used it to make the end feel like a dream fading off into the night.

Walter Becker: "Deacon Blues" was special for me. It's the only time I remember mixing a record all day and, when the mix was done, feeling like I wanted to hear it over and over again. It was the comprehensive sound of the thing: the song itself, its character, the way the instruments sounded and the way Tom Scott's tight horn arrangement fit in.

Donald Fagen: One thing we did right on "Deacon Blues" and all of our records: We never tried to accommodate the mass market. We worked for ourselves and still do.

-- Donald Fagen and Walter Becker talking to Marc Myers of The Wall Street Journal, 10-9-2015

Falling man

"The work gets slower, that's for sure. This latest book took me nearly four years to write and it's not even 300 pages. It's not a burden, it's just day-to-day. But at some point I realised I'd been sitting there for four years. Why isn't it a bigger book?"

Quitting

Remember blogging? In the early days of the World Wide Web an Internet user's knowing gaze fell on Wonkette (Ana Marie Cox) and Bookslut (Jessa Crispin). Cox left Wonkette in 2006, after which it wasn't fun; now Crispin has shuttered Bookslut, leaving us with less fun again. Boris Kachka at NYMag.com asked Crispin why she's leaving and her answer shows why we will miss her:
BK: You’re not a fan of the industry.

JC: Part of the reason why I disengaged from it is I just don’t find American literature interesting. I find MFA culture terrible. Everyone is super-cheerful because they’re trying to sell you something, and I find it really repulsive. There seems to be less and less underground. And what it’s replaced by is this very professional, shiny, happy plastic version of literature.
Earlier at NYMag.com, Casey Johnston declared social media unwell:
It's an established fact of social media services that, once they reach enough size that the potential audience for a post becomes nebulous, people shy from posting on them, because they can't predict what reaction they'll get. This — called "context collapse" — is why we've seen group messaging services boom as broader social media ones have flattened; in your Slack or HipChat or GroupMe, you know how your friends or family will react to a link you post. On an open and unfiltered social media feed, the outcome of posting to a public is far too unpredictable.
In 2014 Prince told Brian Hiatt of Rolling Stone why he had stopping releasing albums:
Prince famously liberated himself from his record deal with Warner Bros. in 1996, and it apparently took him years to realize that his freedom extended to not releasing music. "I write more than I record now, and I also play live a lot more than I record," he says. "I used to record something every day. I always tease that I have to go to studio rehab.

"I'm a very in-the-moment person," he continues. "I do what feels good in the moment. ... I'm not on a schedule, and I don't have any sort of contractual ties. I don't know in history if there's been any musicians that have been self-sufficient like that, not beholden. I have giant bills, large payrolls, so I do have to do tours. ... But there's no need to record anymore." He makes a direct connection between fasting, celibacy and his abstention from recording. "After four days, you don't want food anymore. ... It's like this thing that says, 'Feed me, feed me.' When it realizes it's not going to get fed, it goes away. ... It's the same with music. I had to see what it's like to stop making albums. And then you go, 'Oh, wait a minute, I don't feel the need to do that anymore.'"

Up on a hill, as the day dissolves

Why did you take that first sabbatical?

"Well, I was stuck, really... in a funny way. Stuck with more offers to do things than I've ever had before. Some of them were interesting but the momentum problem was going to arise... It would be 'just one more' and then 'just one more' after that.

"The reason for doing it was that I thought I should spend some time alone. I spend nearly all my time with other people... what I'm involved in is a social art, I'm a social kind of person anyway. Yet I find that if I can live through the initial tedium of my own company, which usually lasts about four days, I find it very interesting to be alone. I start thinking in a way that's extremely acute. I'm thinking about different things, I think better and faster, and I'm much more courageous in what I think because as soon as you forget the society that you're part of, it's much easier to move against its norms."

-- Brian Eno interviewed by Richard Williams for Melody Maker, January 12 1980

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

"Many people think the noir genre is simply a mood. But there's a lot of elements to it. The noir genre is like the white hope in a world that has lost its hold on the string that ties it to morality and goodness. It's a man in his 40s who knows the ropes and is ethically defined. He has no mother, no father, no wife, no children, no property. He doesn't owe anything to anybody. If the police say, "We're going to put you in jail until you talk," he can go to jail. He doesn't have any kid out there he needs to feed. He doesn't have any wife that's going to find a new boyfriend because he's a damn fool. You know, he can do anything."

-- Walter Mosley in conversation with Thulani Davis for Bomb Magazine

And I was so fucking bored

"Basically, I like hanging out and I don't like writing, and by hanging out I don't mean socially hanging out. I like to soak stuff up. My first four novels were sort of autobiographical, and I was so fucking bored. I mean, what am I going to write about next? What I had for breakfast? I can't write this, I can't read this.

"And then I ran into screenplay work, and screenplay work forced me to get out of myself, because now you're writing about pool hustlers. That's what the story demands. I don't know about pool hustlers. Well, go out and learn about it. And I had to go down to Kentucky and Alabama and places where pool tournaments were, and I discovered that I could learn about the world, and that talent and personal experience are not Siamese twins. You can take your talent and go off and learn something, and then you can write about it as well as if not better than the stuff you know from personal experience. So, I got kind of hooked on going out. Going out. Going out. Whatever you write is autobiography, because every kind of character hits a crossroad and has to make a choice in life, and that choice is informed by your sensibilities and your sensibilities evolved out of your life. So it's sort of writing about yourself without the self-consciousness.

"I have to be a little intimidated by what I'm writing about. I have to feel a little bit like I don't think I can do this, I don't think I can master this, I don't think I can get under the skin of this, because when you're a little scared, you're bringing everything to the table because you're not sure you can do it unless you bust your balls and really, really get into it. Terror keeps you slender. I need a sense of awe. Oh, shit! I can't believe I just saw that! But then what do you do with what you saw? That's the bottom line. That's the novel."

-- Richard Price interviewed by Alec Michod for The Believer, May 2008

I want to keep my place in the old world

Perhaps [Tom Hanks'] most perceptive insight came when an audience member raised the issue of nostalgia. After saying "documentaries kick movies' ass when it comes down to the stuff that's really going on," Hanks explicated that his own reason for repeatedly returning to WWII was because of cell phones -- or, rather, the 1940s' lack of those ubiquitous online-connected devices.

While conceding that great movies about the here-and-now are regularly produced, Hanks stated that the existence of cell phones "makes it impossible for you to keep characters apart. Anybody can talk to anybody they want to. These make it impossible for someone to outwardly lie to you, because you can immediately find out whether they're lying or not. And also, these make it possible for you to know any obscure fact that exists in the world. So therefore what disappears? Distance. Communication becomes instantaneous. And the search for a secret, the search for an answer, becomes...[feigns typing]."

-- Tom Hanks in conversation with John Oliver, as reported by Nick Shager at The Daily Beast, 2016

"What year does [The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo] take place in? Well the books are delivered in 2004, so [Stieg Larsson] is probably thinking in terms of 2003, it's not published until 2005, 2007 is the iPhone, so all those apps that would be available to the iPhone are probably something that Salander would have access to 'cause she's a bit of a Mac junkie. So you kind of go, "Well where do we draw the line?" So we just said, look everything has to be pre-iPhone technology, because otherwise they would be sitting there going "Well we just go over here." They would have a compass; they would be able to tell what the weather was like. So there's all that stuff, you just have to make a decision [that's] fairly arbitrary, basically everything in the movie is pre-iPhone."

-- David Fincher interviewed by Steve Weintraub for Collider, 2010