Sick Wednesday night, have had a quiet few days. Lots of films--an old version of "Casanova", very surreal and lovable for old over-the-top movie acting, with interesting, somewhat haunting images and things to say. "The Remains of the Day", both finished the book and watched the movie. Books are always better, and though it took me a good 70 pages to get past the snotty upper-crusty Brittishness, in the end I thought the book was spectacular. For once, I was not all that impressed with Anthony Hopkins in the movie version-like the first Harry Potters, too faithful, to representative, too "tell, not show".
I watched a famous anime movie called "Metropolis", interesting steam-punk world, thinking-robots-slaves-to-humans kinda thing, but honestly as much as I appreciate the art I can't get that into anime. Might be as simple as the people who do the English voices.
Then, yesterday and today, two excellent movies. "Moulin Rouge", which I'd seen before a long time ago. Now I recognized the pop songs, and, while the energy of it got heavy and my attention sank slightly, for such a simple story its one of the most inspirational I've seen. The Bohemian cry to "be passionate!" was a welcome wake-up call of a sort, because I detatched to come here and have not reatached terribly much as of yet...it would be nice to have a cause. Ah well.
Today, "Dancer in the Dark". What a fucking depressing movie. How amazing is Bjork? Amazing. I feel like the play I'm writing is bubblegum after that. Betrayal is the hardest thing to watch, and Bjork manages somehow to make her "can't catch me!" persona work being gritty and down to earth.
Tommorow I'm going to go to a debate competition in, I think, Glasgow. Should be fun--even if I do have to wake up at 6:45 to get on a 7 AM bus.
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Dancer in the Dark is a fantastic movie. How did you come across it? It's not that well known. The shift between dream and "real" world is done in an fascinating way that is not Latin American magical realism, but in it's own distinctive way.
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