Imagine Me very soon
Step into a beautiful possibility
We are in the midst of finishing Imagine Me… John Lennon gave us so much to remember.. the Olympics didn’t forget.the Fourth Way could use your support, in love, thought and material… there’s no reason we have to dread the future if we’re willing to see it differently… after all, consciousness and ‘love’ is all there is! Start now, today, right here… watch for now:http://tiny.cc/m1d1iw
Supercapitalist is out to Get You
If you want to do really something, they say do it yourself. This is exactly what actor/writer Derek Ting accomplished in his film, $UPERCAPITALIST, the first independent US-China co-production. This financial thriller stars the wonderful Linus Roache (Wings of Desire, Law and Order) and Kenneth Tsang of Rush Hour 2. Derek Ting plays the lead, an ambitious New Yorker of Chinese descent who finds out how truly naïve he is once ensconced in the evils of modern finance. As directed by MTV Simon Yin, Hong Kong looks like Las Vegas on crystal and though the film was written before the debacle of Wall Street, its selfish characters, predict the greed that is yet to come.
Mr. Ting, who had worked mostly in IT before this debut had never made a film and was really a novice. But he discovered he loved acting at Cornell and wanted to tell a story he knew something about…and could act in. The dream dug in deep and it was his passion and excitement that brought Linus Roach to the project. Mr. Roach, too, is following his dream, by beginning the process of producing a flm he firmly believes in..the life story of Jesuit priest and innovator-philospher, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin. Perhaps they saw the dreams in each other.
Ting then was able to go out and raise the money after his first commitment from Mr. Roach. Ting insists he is really a ‘simple’ guy, but one who totally goes the mile to reach his vision.
Great choices in music and as morality tales go, he tells a true one.
The film opens this August 10th in New York City and across North America..
american river, a new play
I had a good surprise at Theatre for the New City tonight. Still upset that I missed Buddy Guy on Wednesday, I trekked downstairs for American River, a production of the lesser america company .I usually don’t like going to a basement unless there’s a pool table or an air raid, but the set designed by Daniel Zimmerman transformed the usually grim TNC cellar into a grim-less small town, simple and real. The audience was filled with pretty women in their 30’s, perhaps friends of the writer, Micheline Auger, who has already built up a lot of steam with various theatre companies, starting with her first play Poop- A True Story. Ah titles. American River is about a couple of meth addicts and the incredible difficulties they face in breaking patterns. The writing is fast and funny, but always with a sense of trouble ahead of more trouble. Ms. Auger seems to really understand the addiction dance and the dialogue is authentic. The middle section becomes a bit more surreal, with a wise-ass gay pizza guy, Brendan Spieth, doing send ups that are fun, though a bit wearing. By the third section, and the entrance of the dealer, we are all just relieved to know the baby hasn’t been thrown out with the bath water. The actors are all terrific, Laura Ramadei, as Liz, is a force, challenging her boyfriend, talented Robbie Collier Sublett, at every turn. They are fun to watch, though I don’t know who decided that she should wear only underpants through a great deal of the play. Her body is great, but it’s a distraction and wasn’t necessarily to establish her lifestyle. John Patrick Doherty as the cool dealer dude is at once both frightening and charming. Solid directing by Stephen Brackett – he seems like a good pairing with Ms. Auger. Hope to see more of them all.
Eozen Agopian
Armenian descended Eozen Agopian spends most a great deal of time in her native Greece but has been gracing the New York art scene with a successful group show at the Lesley Haller gallery. Eozen works with paint and thread and cut canvas, creating a world of color and line that draws the eye into the spectacular material.
Agopian lived and went to art school in NYC, first training in graphic arts where she developed her high sense of precision. Later she got her masters at Pratt and supported herself in Astoria for many years before returning back to Athens with her husband, the famous guitar and bouzouki maker, Karolos Tsakirian.
Agopian lived and went to art school in NYC, first training in graphic arts where she developed her high sense of precision. Later she got her masters at Pratt and supported herself in Astoria for many years before returning back to Athens with her husband, the famous guitar and bouzouki maker, Karolos Tsakirian.
She was accepted by the prestigious Triangle Arts for the autumn in NY whose mission is to support mid-career international and national visual artists, encouraging dialogue and experimentation through workshops, residencies and exhibition opportunities.
Kenneth Lonergan’s Margaret
Imagine sitting through 3 hours without an intermission.. if this had been the opera, one might begrudgingly understand …but a movie without Elizabeth Taylor? Remarkably, this oftimes operatic like film by uber talented Kenneth Lonergan moves swiftly like the city it takes place in..New York.
A teenaged Anna Paquin witnesses and is somewhat responsible for something that becomes the trigger for the rest of the story…and everything else supports her in this tale of growth, confusion, and search for connection. All of the acting is top rate, J. Smith Cameron, Mark Damon, Mark Ruffalo, Allison Janney, Mathew Broderick and Elaine May’s now skinny kid, Jeannie Berlin (remember her from Heartbreak Kid)?
Paquin as Lisa Cohen is an intelligent piece of molten lava who manipulates those around her while desperately trying to find her internal balance. She is lit in many ways, offering her up as seductress in one scene, and pimply raging monster another. The many faces of burgeoning womanhood.
Longergan writes beautifully for his female characters… 38 points for that as well as seeming to understand the New York Jewish defnese mechanism …especially when Jean Reno, playing a Columbian software guy, makes a comment about it…innocently revealing the bias that lies hidden in us all.
In this longer version, the director writer inserts rambling street conversations,giving the viewer the sense of NY as a fishbowl, with everyone talking at the same time. It’s effective, as well as the slow moving crowd scenes, reminding how time rarely stands still in a city on the move.
I was an easy teen, but I imagine many parents, especially in divorced situations, can identify the family struggles.
Lonergan succeeds in bringing many issues to the fore in this film ==the idiocy of ‘justice’ through monetary rewards; the pull of sex; and the struggle to find peace with each other and with the world. All issues deserving of an opera which he also provides by way of Renee Fleming and Tales of Hoffman.
Fellini, MOMA and getting older
The experience of seeing an afternoon film at MOMA, can occasionly feel like landing at a Florida retirement community. Often, the classic films draw an older audience who remember seeing the films when they were younger. For some, it is also safer to travel in the afternoon. I love that Moma draws a diversified audience…it has such a terrific programming that there is always something for everyoone.
That said, I am always prepared for a little rabble rousing, somewhere towards the first quarter of the movie. Either a late comer has tripped over the legs of an already well situated viewer or there’s a fight over who knows what…perhaps medications have worn down or a truly disturbed person is just looking for a fight. But it rarely fails…. A lot of brutish noise and then a community ssssh from the rest of the dignified audience. Luckily, eating is not permitted, so there is little sourball paper unwrapping, something that always happens in live theater.
Last week I went to see I Vitelloni, Fellini’s first feature, about five immature young men in a small, unambitious town. It is a beautiful film which fully explores the frustration these men feel with their lack of opportunity and the women who put up with their monkey business. A young girl, Sandra, plucked at the height of her beauty, having just won a mermaid contest, realizes she is pregnant and gets married to the less than willing father, Fausto. The other four male friends observe his life with mostly relief at not having to either get a job or commit to a woman. The brother of the bride, Moraldo, looks for answers in a meeting with a young boy who works at the railroad. Perhaps he sees himself; it is not clear. But later, when an aspiring writer, Leopoldo, meets his idol, an aging actor, Sergio, with hopes of getting his script performed, he comes face to face with the reality of show business; the old thespian wants him to ‘walk’ with him on the beach. Frightened, the writer runs away.
This is the first time I recall seeing homosexuality in an early Fellini film. Though reviews I’ve read, don’t speak of the young railway worker as a seduction, it seems to me that the possibility is there, especially never really seeing Moraldo being sexual with a woman. In fact, in one scene, he pays more attention to his buddy, a drunk Alberto Sordi, the great comic actor, than his date for the night, who struggles to keep up with him. Both of these elements give the film a gravitas; a secret part of the otherwise fully public Italian life that Fellini so often shares with us. The Madonna/Whore theory is well known, but this male bonding, be it homoerotic or not, is so subtly depicted.
The film ends rather happily and there is a slow ascent out of the theatre. People do not move fast and as I had already seen man in his late eighties, coming late, almost tumble down the dark stairs..When I found myself behind a very slow woman, I kept pace with her pace. There was a tiny bit of space to her left, but I was reticent to bump her, and waited patiently behind. My lack of movement so infuriated a man behind me that he yelled “ move to the side, move to the side.” I tried to turn to tell him it was impossible, but he wasn’t interested in hearing me. When we reached the landing and he raced in front of me, I saw that he was quite young and tall. Not being able to hold my tongue, I said ,”Let’s have compassion; we are all going to be old someday”… to be honest, I might have actually said “You are going to be old someday”. Either way, he turned on his heels, and looked at me as if he could have struck me down with an ax. And here we were in the middle of the Educational Wing of the Museum of Modern Art. Not wanting to tempt fate anymore, I clammed up and just stared away, letting him fume on as he turned and raced to the bathroom.
I mention all this for a reason: this wouldn’t happen in Fellini’s Italy. Yes, people might yell, bicker, but the undercurrent of warmth and humanity (the Fascists excluded) would not permit such cold behavior. The Italians are not cold. If Fellini had directed this moment, the man would turn around, proud as a peacock, ready to show me that he was fit and fair and offer me a rose or perhaps even apologize and admit that he was meeting his lover outside in the rain and it was urgent as he had the only umbrella.
That’s what movies do –totally ill prepare us for life as it seems to truly be; not as the grand illusion that’s projected… and aren’t we lucky they do just that. Helping us maintain the secret hope that there is something warm and fuzzy in all of us, and perhaps by imagining it, it may someday
Politics and Humor
Jon Stewart (Photo credit: Belltown Messenger)
tags
For some strange reason I saw a screening of Get The Gringo, Gibson’s new film, shot in Mexico, about a strange jail which functions like a small village. I thought it had said Get the Dingo, and was a nature film, narrated by Gibson. But alas it was standard cartoon violence fare, with a Gibson, though more tattered, still cinematically charming. Lots of blood, bombs and boobs… with a few clever moments, like Gibson’s impersonation of Clint Eastwood. The film, if a little better, could have used the opportunity to say something real about drug cartels and the horrible treatment of women in Juarez and other parts of drug-controlled, machismo Mexico. But this has its audience and maybe they will make a connect.
After the film, a host in Austin, Texas, a red haired flame of a guy, interviewed the kid actor, Kevin Hernandez and Gibson and his writer and…
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Oye Mel… make up your mind
For some strange reason I saw a screening of Get The Gringo, Gibson’s new film, shot in Mexico, about a strange jail which functions like a small village. I thought it had said Get the Dingo, and was a nature film, narrated by Gibson. But alas it was standard cartoon violence fare, with a Gibson, though more tattered, still cinematically charming. Lots of blood, bombs and boobs… with a few clever moments, like Gibson’s impersonation of Clint Eastwood. The film, if a little better, could have used the opportunity to say something real about drug cartels and the horrible treatment of women in Juarez and other parts of drug-controlled, machismo Mexico. But this has its audience and maybe they will make a connect.
After the film, a host in Austin, Texas, a red haired flame of a guy, interviewed the kid actor, Kevin Hernandez and Gibson and his writer and director, both of whom are clearly Mexican Jews. Grunberg, the director has worked with him as an AD on many films, and this is his first directorial debut.
The host fielded online questions about the film from watchers all over the country. I texted in a question about the Jewish Question… to his credit, the host, didn’t ask my question directly, but pointed to the huge Star of David around Mr. Grunberg’s throat and asked if there wre any problems with him and the writer being Jews. They all gave a shit-eatin’ grin and shook their heads like, “What ..who you kiddin’?” And then quickly onto the next question.
I can’t figure out if Gibson is truly a madman with more faces than he can remember or simply a victim of his racist childhood mixed in with a little anger management issue.
As a fellow Taurus, I would like to offer him the chance to spend a week in contemplation with me, working on his inner heart, which must be brave somewhere in that still sturdy chest. Perhaps we can nail the Maccabee problem. I could use a writer’s credit.
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notjustaboutsex 