After revisiting Lost in Translation the other day it really got me thinking about those first few films that had a major impact on me. I think it comes down to this list. Lost in Translation, The Royal Tenenbaums, American Beauty, Coffee and Cigarettes, and Apocalypse Now. I think it was officially those five films that made me want to indulge myself in cinema. I love Coffee and Cigarettes. This movie really made me sit down and focus my attention on the film. It’s not entirely too easy to get into, but once you let yourself go to this movie it’s awesome. I love how awkward some of the conversations are and how Billy Murray drinks out of a pot instead of a cup.

4/5

Bobby

"Limits of Control," Jim Jarmusch, 2009.

Yesterday wrapped up the final day of screenings for Cairo’s International Film Festival, and though I only managed to make it to three screenings towards the end of the event, Jim Jarmusch’s May release “The Limits of Control” occupied all the filmic processing  capacity of my brain. The screening we attended was filled mostly by expats and artsy types, go figure.

The film, directed by Jarmusch, shot by Christopher Doyle (In the Mood for Love), and starring Isaach de Bankole (Coffee and Cigarettes, Night on Earth, Ghost dog: the Way of the Samurai) brought together a whimsically honest style, great locations in Spain (Madrid, Tribunal; Sevilla), glorious cinematography in a crazy, mysterious story of retribution against reality (played briefly and hilariously by none other than Bill Murray).

Needless to say, the walk out of the theatre for the group I saw it with was a slow bizzare one. Hard to say why, but the film resonated with themes in my life in a way that I can’t really understand. However, the length and meditative pace and repitition of the film had one of my fellow viewers retitle the film “Limits of my Patience.” I find this a bit harsh, but the film certainly does require the viewer to submit their viewing style to Jarmusch’s vision, which feels invasive to say the least – but that’s the success of this film in my opinion. It forced me to open up to the story, and proceeded to enter me and make things vibrate that I didn’t know existed.

Check out the trailer for ‘Limits of Control’ at Apple.

Raczej to nie jest oczekiwanie.

Ein Freund hyperventiliert, ich mach mir fast in die Hose vor Aufregung – das kann ja nur das geilste Album des Jahres werden, wenn The Black Keys (die endlich auch mal nach Deutschland kommen könnten) mit Mos Def, RZA und wem nicht noch kollaborieren. Hell yeah:

Falls es ein Video dazu geben sollte, müsste Bill Murray mitspielen, RZA, Dan Auerbach und Patrick Carney abschlagend. Und am Ende ob einer Überdosis Blues und HipHop in ein Delirium fallen. Ach, das war ja was anderes – trotzdem verdammt gut.

It isn’t surprising that I couldn’t work out what I wanted to write for NaNo, given that the blank canvas laid out before me could take any number of turns. The work, as has been pointed out, doesn’t have to be a novel of outstanding brilliance and originality, it is merely required to hit the fifty thousand word mark before the end of November. Most of the ideas I generated in the last week have been short stories, maybe novellas at best. Not a problem.

The thought that I might be able to tie these disparate elements together in a patchwork of overlapping events was one which only came to me this morning as I sat down with a cup of coffee and a smoke. Maybe it was a moment of divine inspiration, it might have been desperation… Hell, it could possibly have been an injection of caffeine to the system which finally nailed the concept in my brain. I’m gonna be writing a novel made up of novels…

Which is a dumb way to think of the idea, but I can’t think of a better way to put it. There seems to be quite a lot of history building in my subconscious already, and I have the feeling that I may be writing closer to 400k rather than 50k when I’m done with this. I’ll try to get the main story out of the way during the month, and – if I have time – begin filling in all of the strands which aren’t essential to the overall universe.

Exact information would be hard to give without me beginning anything, but I’m sure the SF elements will be heavy to the front, with horror and comedy bubbling beneath the surface. The thriller aspect should be handled with the nature of the plot, but I’m not sure how many other genres I can draw from. This might work after all…

The first person to say “cyberpunk” gets poked with a sharp stick.

This was sent to me courtesy of a friend of mine. For those of you not familar with the weird, wonderful world of Tom Wait’s you should definitely educate yourself =). He’s got the gravliest voice I’ve ever heard, has a sharp as tacks wit:

He’s written an impressive list of long-standing song favorites:His songs are covered often by varied musicians – Downtown Train, Long Way Home, and Ol’ 55 are all his.

He’s written loads of experimental and bawdy music, like :

What’s He Building in there:

Christmas Card from a hooker in Minneapolis

And now for the news from the the official website:

Tom Waits Song To Appear in Escobar Documentary

(pic Jean-Baptiste Mondino)
The Tom Waits song “Sins of My Father” from his 2004 album “Real Gone” will be featured in an intriguing new documentary called “Sins of My Father” out in late November. The film deals with a possible reconciliation between the sons of notorious Colombian drug kingpin Pablo Escobar and the sons of some of Escobar’s victims. The film will premier at the IDFA Festival. For more info go here.
You can view a CNN interview with the film’s director Nicolas Entel here. Read More

“The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus” US Premier Announced

(pic Michael O’Brien)
The US premier of Terry Gilliam’s much anticipated cinematic hallucination “The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus,” featuring Tom Waits as the devil, will materialize on November 2nd in Los Angeles at the AFI Festival. The elaborate fantasy, about the leader of a traveling theater group who takes his audience on a mind-expanding exploration of their imaginations, stars the late Heath Ledger, whose role is also played at various times throughout the film by Johnny Depp, Jude Law and Colin Farrell. Also featured are Christopher Plummer and the before mentioned Tom Waits. The film will screen at the legendary Grauman’s Chinese Theater. For more details go here. Read More

ქალის არ მესმის
(ვბორგავ და ვხვნეში)…
რამდენი გესლი
მქონია ნეკნში…

…ნიკო გომელაური…

ღმერთები იქ ცხოვრობენ, სადაც ქალებს ეთაყვანებიან.

ქალი ერთადერთი დაუსრულებელი ქმნილებაა,რომლის დასრულება ღმერთმა კაცს მიანდო…

ქალი – ეს არის ცა, მაგრამ ეს ცა ისევე მაღლაა მამაკაცისაგან, როგორც მიწა ცის თაღისაგან.

ქალი სინამდვილედ ქცეული ულამაზესი სიზმარია მამაკაცისა.

ქალები ცხოვრების სარკაზმია.

ქალი არის ყველაზე მისაღები შეცდომა ბუნებისა.

თითქმის ყველა ქალს უნარი შესწევს ყველაზე უმაღლესი გმირობა ჩაიდინოს სიყვარულის გამო.

ძნელი სათქმელია, რომ ქალს უფრო ძლიერად შეეძლოს სიყვარული, ვიდრე მამაკაცს, მაგრამ ეს კი უეჭველია, რომ ქალებმა უფრო უკეთესად იციან სიყვარული.

როგორ შეიძლება ისეთი ქალი დაივიწყო, თუნდაც ერთხელ ძლიერ რომ გყვარებია?

ქალის ღირსების საზომი მამაკაცია, რომელიც მას უყვარს.

თუ კაცს უნდა სიყვარული დაუმტკიცოს ქალს, ყველაფერი უნდა უამბოს, რასაც ქალის ცნობისმოყვარეობა მოითხოვს.

ქალი გულგრილია მის მიმართ, ვისაც უყვარს და უყვარს ის, ვინც მის მიმართ გულგრილია.

ქალებს როგორც ბაშვებს უყვართ ,,არას” თქმა,მამაკაცები როგორც ბავშვები სერიოზულად აღიქვამენ ამას

როცაა ქალი გიყვარს,მისი ჭირვეულობი შესრულება უდიდესი ბედნიერებაა

ქალს უფრო ძლიერი სიყვარული შეუძლია, ვიდრე მამაკაცთა უმრავლესობას, მაგრამ მამაკაცი მეგობრობაში უფრო გამტანია. კაცები არიან მიზეზი იმისა, რომ ქალებს ერთმანეთი არ უყვართ.

ვაჟკაცმა არც არაფერი უნდა სთხოვოს ქალს და არც არაფერში ძალა დაატანოს, დიაცები სულგრძელნი არიან – რაც შეუძლიათ იმას თვითონაც არ დაიშურებენ.

ქალთა უმრავლესობას პრინციპები არ გააჩნია, გულის კარნახს ემორჩილებიან და მათი საქციელი იმ მამაკაცზეა დამოკიდებული, ვინც უყვართ.

ახალგაზრდა ქალებს ჩაცმა დახურვასა და საჭმელ-სასმელის გარდა კიდევ სხვა რამეც სჭირიათ, სხვა მოთხოვნილებაცა აქვთ, რასაც კდემამოსილებით ვეღარ ამხელენ.

ჩვეულებრივი ქალისთვის ყველა მამაკაცი მამაკაცია მხოლოდ; მისთვის კი, ვისმა გულმაც შეიცნო სიყვარული, თავისი მიჯნურის გარდა, მამაკაცი არ არსებობს.

მამაკაცს ყოველთვის უნდა ქალის პირველი სიყვარული იყოს. ქალები კი შორსმჭვრეტელნი არიან და სურთ იყონ მამაკაცის უკანასკნელი ვნების საგანი.

ქალი ყოველთვის მერყევი და ცვალებადია.

როცა პირველად ნებდება, ქალი ფიქრობს, რომ მამაკაცს მთელი სამყარო მისცა, მამაკაცს კი ჰგონია, რომ მიიღო სათამაშო. ქალი ფიქრობს, რომ მისცა მარადისობა, მამაკაცს კი ჰგონია, რომ მიიღო წუთი

ქალები როგორც მოკრძალებულნი და კდემამოსილნი, თავიანთ ნაზ გულში იმარხავენ დაფარულად სიყვარულის ალს, ხოლო დაფარული ალი რომ უფრო ძლიერია გამოჩინებულზე, ეს იცის ყველამ, ვისაც კი განუცდია მისი ძალა თავის თავზე.

თუ გიყვარს ქალი – უარჰყო უნდა სულ ყველაფერი. მარტოოდენ უნდა გწამდეს ის, ვინც გიყვარს, მის მხურვალე მკერდზე უნდა ნახო ნავსაყუდელი, მარტო მის გულს უნდა სცემდე თაყვანს, როგორც ღმერთს, და დასთმო უნდა გარშემო ქვეყნიერება. ოჰ, ქალო, ქალო!

Kawa i papierosy, nowa kategoria na Terapiach.
Nawiązałem też do Luster, sceną z filmu Coffee and Cigarettes (Jim Jarmush, 2003), w której w rolę kuzynek – Cate i Shelly – wcieliła się Cate Blanchett:

I’ve had a shitty day. I’m totally sick of everyone at work; the kids, my co-workers, the parents (the ones who are on the committee, who effectively work there, but behind the scenes), they all seem to be busting my chops for no good goddamn reason. I need to find a new job.

Matthew and I watched Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai last night. It was pretty great. My mum gave me it because I accidentally gave it to her for Christmas, and she didn’t want it. Here’s a clip that pretty much sums up the idea of the movie, without giving too much away:

The music in the film is pretty cool too, kinda lo-fi hip-hop stuff. It’s all done by RZA, from the Wu Tang Clan, who makes a slightly unnecessary cameo appearance in the movie. He also appears in one of Jim Jarmusch’s other films, Coffee and Cigarettes:

So yeah… gonna have to start posting again.

não sei de onde tirei q o filme “it might get loud” iria estrear este fim de semana. já tava me programando pra ir assistir amanhã. parece q só vai estrear em novembro. bom, numa série de analogias aparentemente sem sentido fui parar no filme “coffee and cigarettes“ do jim jarmusch. mais especificamente nessa cena aqui:

iggy pop e tom waits se encontram em um bar pra tomar um café. simplesmente hilária essa cena.

e qdo os dois perguntam de quem é o maço em cima da mesa e ambos dizem que pararam de fumar pra logo depois eles acenderem os cigarros? e a cara de satisfação do iggy?

depois os dois acabam brigando por que o iggy diz que conheceu um pusta baterista e o tom acha q ele tá falando q o baterista da banda dele não é bom.

e no fim o melhor, quando o tom vai checar a jukebox.

ps. o filme todo é muito bom. além do iggy pop e do tom waits, tem o jack e a meg white, o rza, o bill murray, o steve busceni, a cate blanchett…

ps2. pensando bem não são tão sem sentido assim as analogias, já q o jack white participa dos dois  filmes.

The main problem with being awake for so many hours in the day – okay, not the main problem, but a close second – is the temptation to keep smoking when any sane person would be considering how many cigarettes they go through. I spent about half an hour searching through my coat pockets, in drawers, beside my chair, looking through the kitchen… There was just a single pack left. Which is strange in and of itself, but I bought 100 on Friday afternoon. It’s the lack of sleep…

I don’t normally smoke so much, but with the agitation caused by spending the night looking for a game which wouldn’t annoy me, then having a day full of interruptions to my writing, it’s no wonder I smoke so much. It’s only when I have to run for the train in the morning that the full effects of my habit seems to show itself, but that is a subject for another post.

For a long time, maybe three years, I have managed to ration myself to one cigarette an hour, but the temptation to light up when I get even slightly irritated is growing.

They go so well with the consumption of endless cups of coffee, and y’know, the odd alcoholic beverage, so it is easy to lose count of how many I smoke in a day. But 80 since Friday? I’m sure I never smoked this much when I was in my twenties, when I had the capacity to deal with such intense abuse of my lungs. I still have the endless fucking walk each day, but it isn’t exactly the kind of exercise that is going to help in the long run.

Sometimes I think that the self-destruction gene, which ain’t so dormant in humanity at the best of times, is pushing forth on my being. “Go on,” it cries, “Light up, you fucker. Take a deep breath.” It’s the same voice that whispers in your ear when you’re on the balcony of an apartment, telling you to jump. Only it ain’t as blatant. It’s the tapping of fingers, the urge that grips in the gut, the need to fill your lungs with the inspiration-giving escence of nicotine.

And a few thousand words later I’m back where I started, looking at the screen and hankering for another smoke.

‘Scuse me, I gotta go. I’m sure I have a lighter around here somewhere…

There are a number of reasons why I’m a SNL fan, including an appreciation for sketch comedy in general as well as the massive cultural impact the show has had over the past 35 years.  It can be hit or miss, and some seasons are definitely more ‘miss’, but when the show is running at its peak in terms of cast, writing, and cultural relevance, it’s really something.

One thing about the show that fascinates me is that a rerun of a show that plays either on the network or on cable may not necessarily be the stuff everyone was doing from 11:30 pm to 1:00 am ET the night of the original show.   When I was building up my collection I noticed that the sketch rundowns of the show I was taping off the Comedy Network didn’t quite match the order listed on the episode guide; often sketches would be shuffled around and, on occasion, something would be dropped in favour of either a sketch from another show or material that never made it to a live broadcast.   On these shows you could see a disclaimer run at the very beginning:

the SNL "encore presentation" disclaimer

Most of the reruns I taped were pretty representative of the original show that aired, but when there was a big omission in the show, it could get pretty annoying.  There are still a few holes in my collection that I haven’t been able to fill just because the rerun versions are so much easier to come by: by default, any episode aired after the live air date is the rerun version unless none exists (usually the weak and controversial shows would fall into this category).  

Older reruns sometimes substituted bits for segments from other shows: a lot of material added to a rerun also appeared in a show without the rerun disclaimer, which usually meant the show was not repeated on NBC.  Later episodes were a little more unusual: the content replacing what was cut didn’t seem to be from any other episode.  Sometimes it would be a live sketch done in the studio with the same host and cast, sometimes it would be a short film or commercial.  One of these bits was actually the Roberto Benigni segment of Jim Jarmusch’s “Coffee and Cigarettes”.

The reruns from the last 25 years or so (from the point where Lorne Michaels returned to the show after his five-year hiatus) have some more subtle changes.   Fans with sharper eyes and ears than mine had mentioned in various places online how the reruns sometimes replaced sketches from the live shows with performances from dress rehearsal.  The differences were usually very minor, not really noticable unless you made a point to look for them or if they made the change to remove something offensive.  I did notice, though, the clock on the main stage with no other purpose but to show the time in the studio would sometimes be visiblly showing it was a point earlier during the evening during monologues and musical guest introductions.  From what I’m guessing, the strategy is to make the best possible rerun: if something went better in dress, then that’s what they’ll use.  As well, because a new episode of SNL is live, it’s more prone to technical screw-ups, miscues, and awkward “dead seconds”; reruns give a chance to fix some of that.  The audio is also remixed a bit for the rerun airings, which includes a faint bit of ’sweetening’ to the audience response (just a few extra laughs mixed in).

I’d heard of all these things from different sources and noticed a few things here and there when I watched reruns of shows I’d seen when they aired live, but it didn’t come together until the night when I finally saw a recording of the live broadcast of the first show of 1985-86 hosted by Madonna.   This episode is probably the most extensively edited SNL rerun; the most well-known change being that ALL reruns remove the cold opening about Brandon Tartikoff getting urine samples from the cast for drug testing, giving the impression that the show just went straight into the opening montage.  Other changes include a second Simple Minds musical performance added to the later part of the show, the replacement of the original Sarah Charlesworth “collage” opening montage with the filmed “limo ride” used from the fifth show of the season on (as well as all bumpers to keep consistent), dead seconds removed, hot mics were fixed, the Weekend Update title card was changed to the one used for the rest of the season, and Don Pardo’s line “Two Junkies be located…” in a commercial parody was removed (probably for the same reason the drug testing had to be taken out).

Original bumper from live broadcast of Madonna episode

The thing about that show that really brought everything together was the opening seconds of the Weekend Update segment for that show.  Usually when the bit starts and Pardo announced “Weekend Update with Dennis Miller”, the audience would cheer and applaud.  On this first show, though, there is absolutely NO response.  Miller actually sarcastically quips, “Thank you, Don Pardo, for whipping them up into a frenzy”.  I didn’t remember the audience being dead when I saw the episode before so I checked my recording from Classic SNL, and sure enough, there was the cheers and applause (and Miller’s comment was left in, dethorned by the editing).   It became clear to me how much of a do-over the rerun really is. 

Bumper from rerun of Madonna episode

What’s better?  The rerun version seems to be the final product judging by how prevalent they are, and how everything is done to ensure that they end up with the strongest product.  But part of the show’s title is that it’s live: it’s still live in a sense that the sketches were performed in front of a studio audience, but a lot of what’s done to the rerun is essentially cheating.  Part of the appeal of watching the live broadcast is that anything can happen.  Something may not go right.  Actors may break character.  Somebody might drop a “shit” or “fuck” or tear up a picture of the Pope.  You lose the unexpected aspect with a rerun anyway, but the extra editing only takes it further away from “live”.

Coming soon: a list of ten notable segments removed in SNL reruns.

მაგალითი,რომელიც ახლა გამახსენდა ასეთია:როდესაც ოჯახთან ცხოვრობ და მომქანცველ სამუშაოზე მუშაობთ,ხშირად სახლში დაბრუნება დაქანცულს გიხდებათ.ასეთ დროს თუ დედა,მამა და ან ოჯახის რომელიმე სხვა წევრი გკითხავს: – “შენ მე გიყვარვარ?” შენ პასუხობ: – “დიახ”.მაგრამ თუკი ადამიანი დაიჟინებს: – “მაგრამ დანამდვილებით გიყვარვარ სწორედ ახლა,განიცდი ამ სიყვარულს?”ასეთ შემთხვევაში პატიოსნად თუ უპასუხებდით,ალბათ იტყოდით: – “არა,ამაჟამად არ განვიცდი არაფერს – ზურგის ტკივილის და სხეულის დაღლილობის გარდა.”მაგრამ სრულიად მართალი იქნებით,თუ იტყვით,რომ გიყვართ,იმიტომ,რომ შესანიშნავად იცით,დაღლილობის საფარქვეშ სიყვარულის ცოცხალი წყარო იმალება.და როდესაც ქრისტე ამბობს:”ვისაც ვუყვარვარ,ჩემი მცნებები აღასრულოს…”ეს არ ნიშნავს:”თუ მე გიყვარვარ,გამუდმებით აღტაცებულ მდგომარეობაში უნდა იმყოფებოდე…”არამედ – “თუ ჩემი გჯერათ,იმის მიხედვით იცხოვრეთ,რაც მოგეცათ.”ეს იმას ნიშნავს,რომ იმაზე ცოტა მეტი გააკეთოთ,რაც მოგვეთხოვება,სულ ცოტა მეტი,იმაზე,რასაც ჩვენი სურვილით გავაკეთებდით.

Having spent the better part of the week running to and fro across the larger part of Fife, I’ve realized that I don’t really care for being in a place at an exact time. Five minutes either side of an appointed time is accurate enough, and I’m already too fucking tired (with, y’know, the insomnia and everything) to be doing such things. Seriously, the amount of hassle to get to a place exactly on time just isn’t hardwired into my brain. I can barely tell you what time it is without spending a minute hunting for my ‘phone.

There are, however, some people who see punctuality as the be-all and end-all, and I don’t mind if they see me as an aberration. I like those guys. Really, I do. They’re perfect models on which to base my villains on, because (alongside record-keeping) the psychotics of the world seem to have a fascination with time. Just look at Sylar if you don’t believe me.

Maybe I wasn’t born with the “time gene”, which explains a lot. I couldn’t tell the time on an analogue clock until I was about fifteen years old, and when I write I tend to time-jump back and forwards between different eras. The messy way I see the past – lumping big stretches of my life together as if everything happened at once – is because I can’t sleep, and it all seems so, so long ago. Last week or last year… It’s all the same to me.

In about five hours (give or take) I’ll be back at the train station, wondering how the fuck I manage to get anything done without sleep. I’ll have had my fourth coffee of the day by that point, and I may be in a better mood.

Don’t bet on it.

So Dash Snow aka Saker Irak died of an overdose recently, RIP. Some say he’s already being Basquiatised, and probably not a minute too soon. Stephen Marche fittingly points out in a fairly caustic article, “Basquiat’s hedonism fuelled his creativity, but for Snow hedonism was the creativity.” He’s already not one, but two four letter words and surely an adjective (or more fittingly, adverb) can’t be far off? Photos aside I couldn’t dig much of his art but as a person(a) he’s fascinating – for me maybe the ultimate embodiment of the downtown art scene today.

Kind of like the way in which coffee&cigarettes became &crack (80s), &cellphones (90s) and &crackberries (00s), Dash Snow, known for his near-neo Ludditism, goes hand in hand with the era of digitalia for me. Also kind of like the interlinked Cs of the Chanel sign, (speaking of which, ZEVS of the liquidated logos got picked up in Hong KongMaybe it’s the anthropologist in me (albeit one lacking a senior thesis) but I find pictures taken of him to be more interesting than his own. Is this what happens when money runs away from home and implodes on itself? Again from Marche:

Snow was much more successful as a muse, with his gorgeous long blond hair and beard and his tattoo of Saddam Hussein. An image of him tagging on a New York building ledge was one of the most famous photographs from Ryan McGinley’s show at the Whitney “The Kids Are Alright” (this title is now an unfortunate irony; the kid isn’t all right, the kid is dead). The art that resulted from Snow’s life, the table scraps of his orgies, gave the pleasant shiver of possibility that all the indulgence and self-destruction was something more than a nasty good time. But Snow himself, and the amanuenses of his self-destruction, were also able to convert his antics into a highly profitable commodity. His parentage, which provided a stabilizing connection to the Establishment, and his subversiveness, which stamped him with authenticity, turned out to be a valuable combination.

These images though -perhaps it’s the braces/suspenders and shorter hair? – by Mario Sorrenti from Muse Magazine, S/S 2009 are really sweet. And this quote from Vice’s Gavin McInnes quite striking:

When I used to run around with a camera and a notepad following Irak and documenting as much of their lives as I could, he said something that changed my life forever. He said, “Why are you always reporting on shit and reviewing other people’s shit? Why don’t you do your own shit?” I couldn’t get it out of my head. I still can’t. And you shouldn’t either.

Not to mention this from Ryan Mc Ginley:

One of my favorite things about Dash was always his unconscious moving hand. He would be sitting there smoking cigarettes, writing his tag in the air without being aware of it. I would just smile and watch the smoke twirl into the letters S A C E. That’s how I’ll always remember him.

[last image by Rachel Chandler]

Opening next Thursday, July 23, alt-icon director Jim Jarmusch’s new film, The Limits Of Control, has been described as an “anti-action action movie.”

X-Press Magazine Cover - Limits of Control

Directed by Jim Jarmusch
Starring Isaach De Bankolé, Tilda Swinton, Bill Murray, Gael García Bernal, Paz de la Huerta, John Hurt

There are very few auteur directors that have the kind of pan-indie/rock/arthouse credibility held by Jim Jarmusch. With his improbable white hair and effortless rock sensibility, it is easy to imagine how he has convinced artists such as Iggy Pop, Tom Waits, Joe Strummer or Screamin’ Jay Hawkins to enlist as actors in his films: coffee, cigarettes and ‘cool’.

There are many cinema fans who feel as if they’ve been waiting far too long for a new feature from Jarmusch, as up until this point, the noughties had only revealed one wholly original feature (Broken Flowers) and Coffee And Cigarettes, a composite of conversational short films going back to 1986.

Perhaps it is a testament to his bone-dry wit and love of extremely awkward pauses that watching The Limits Of Control will leave them feeling exactly the same way.

The Limits Of Control follows an inscrutable and fastidious assassin (De Bankolé) as he is commissioned for an unspecified job in Spain and told to wait further instructions. A series of cryptic encounters follows in which characters appear, offering awkward and often absurdist monologues to the assassin as a ‘cover’, while slipping him coded messages, the meaning of which are never revealed to the audience.

The premise of an assassin comfortably alone in a country where he doesn’t understand the language provides a context in which many of Jarmusch’s readily identifiable themes are played out: chance encounters, protracted pauses, dissociative characters and a cinematic style that is broad and static – the visuals are there for you to observe, discover and interpret (if you can), and the camera rarely directs your attention to specific details.

Jarmusch has said that he tends to work backwards with regard to narrative, discovering characters first, situations and conversations next and then ‘joining the dots’ to create a plot. In this sense, The Limits Of Control is a highly consistent addition to Jarmusch’s canon of work, but disappointingly, it is not one that is likely to inspire new audiences to seek out the films upon which his career has been built.

During the ’90s Jarmusch was at his iconic best, releasing his meandering and funny film conversations such as Mystery Train (three stories in a hotel – a theme that would later be borrowed by Tarantino for Four Rooms), Night On Earth (five stories in taxis across the world in one night) and the wholly ethereal Dead Man starring Johnny Depp and introducing nausea-inducing ‘wobbly-cam’ years before the Blair Witch Project.

Having said that, The Limits Of Control does offer an impressive cast, obviously keen to work with Jarmusch if and as often as they can. Tilda Swinton is, of course, naturally brilliant and abstract and John Hurt is always a pleasure to watch. Because of Jarmusch’s emphasis on character over plot – although character-driven is not the appropriate term – it is easy to see why actors would be eager to take the opportunity to take roles in his films, no matter how small the part.

Despite his minimalist approach, Jarmusch ensures that every character in his films is the star of their own story – which he feels no obligation to tell.

One interesting feature of The Limits Of Control is the use of Spanish architecture – particularly the assassin’s hotel room, all curves and features; clearly a building that was intended to be a statement of intent and individuality when it was built, but not having aged particularly well. Sadly, it’s sort of an inadvertent metaphor for this latest collection of Jarmusch’s themes and memes.

As a series of disconnected conversation/monologues, Jarmusch does offer a vague continuity in The Limits Of Control with recurring phrases (not quite gags), and the nature of these individual conversations is eventually provided a context near the film’s conclusion… although it never climaxes.

In some ways, it’s one of the longest and pointless ‘shaggy dog’ stories ever told.

Such is Jarmusch’s reputation that viewers and critics alike may find themselves in an ‘Emperor’s New Clothes’ scenario, and phrases such as ‘post-modern’, ‘contemplative’, ‘meditative’ and ‘cerebral’ may be offered instead of taking the risk and saying ‘needlessly slow, indulgent and only vaguely amusing’.

The things that Jarmusch can do with an awkward silence should make Ricky Gervais weep with lust and envy – just watch the conversation between Tom Waits and Iggy Pop in Coffee And Cigarettes III. It is not necessarily the lack of plot that makes The Limits Of Control so infuriating, so much as the lack of humour and perhaps disappointment following the excitement of seeing Jarmusch’s latest work.

Jarmusch has pre-emptively defended himself from these criticisms by saying that he doesn’t make films to please critics – which would be fair enough if it wasn’t for the fact that he is in fact a favourite of critics around the globe. The question that remains unanswered: is he making this film for anyone but himself?

– SABIAN WILDE

First published in X-Press Magazine, July 16, 2009 (Happy Birthday to me).

There’s Not Enough Time In The Day

Last night (and into the not-so-small hours of the morning) was a battle of wills between myself and the beautiful designs of HTML. I’m a big fan of computer languages as art-form, despite having seen the travesties imposed on simple code by folks who would rather be playing in the murky depths of obscure and complicated math. HTML can be manipulated and twisted to allow for all sorts of formatting options, but it gets to be a bit much when I have been staring at a notepad document filled with it for any number of hours.
…And I’m still not done yet. There are fun blogs I have visited, though not bookmarked. I’ll get around to the ones I have overlooked soon enough.

There have been a lot of new additions to the ‘to do’ list in the last week, and (with the lack of sleep ‘n’ all) I have added more jobs. I need something to do, or else I’ll end up chain-smoking, drinking endless cups of coffee and bemoaning the lack of take-away service at 5am. One of my bright ideas was a blog dedicated to book reviews. It’s been set up, ready to go, but there aren’t any actual reviews on it yet. I’ll post one up on Wednesday or Thursday, after I manage to deal with more pressing matters.

Ah, the other projects… Yeah, they seem to be multiplying.

Tomorrow evening is already set aside for the construction of a base on which to situate the largest shed I have ever laid eyes on. It is massive, and will comfortably hold the excess books, computer games and comics once it is insulated properly. When the shed is filled, which will probably take some time, I’ll gain back two rooms which have been used primarily for storage.

A complete list of my collection, for insurance purposes, has been an on-and-off-again job which desperately need doing. It’s #2 on the list.
The notes I’ve already taken for reference has thrown up some surprising items. I’m was working through boxes of European comics, and came across  Greek (I think) editions of Lucky Luke, French reprints of Marvel Comics material and other weirdness. The Italian reprint of Secret Agent X-9 (in hardback format) and a Disney annual (which translates some duck stories to Italian) I vaguely remember purchasing, but I have no idea where all the others came from.

There are also the external hard drives which I have been meaning to tidy up. Files are kept all over the place, and having all of the material relating to connected subjects stored together makes sense. I’m guessing that the job will take a few weeks, though with new ideas popping up every so often – sometimes just as I have exited the word processing suite – I’m holding off from immediately jumping in to this.

Lack Of Sleep x Things To Do = Time Distortion

What seemed like a few days ago to everyone else, Friday to be exact, is more like a week for me. I figured this out about an hour ago, when the compulsion to call a friend up hit me. He said that he was going to buy a new car (Friday, to be exact, not a month ago, just on Friday), and I was about to call to see if he ever managed to get around to buying one. It’s a shock to realize that it wasn’t a long-gone conversation, and I’m beginning to think that I need to keep better notes on any interactions I have – just so I don’t bring up anything which is still in the process of being handled.

It feels like a couple of days since I added anything to the blog, if that makes any sense.

The Milk Doesn’t Go In The Cupboard

Maybe the sleep-deprivation is having more of an effect than I would normally admit. I was making coffee earlier, and I discovered I had put the jar in the fridge and the carton of milk in the cupboard. It wouldn’t be the first time my brain has completely left my body while doing automated actions, and I know that I’ve left the oven on for too long as well. My grasp on the minor activities is one reason why the aforementioned insurance policy has to have accurate information.

Be thankful I don’t have a driving license.

პასუხისმგებლობა ეკისრება ადამიანს,თავისი ქმედების ან უმოქმედობსი გამო.პასუხისმგებლობა არის ალბათ ერთ-ერთი ყველაზე მნიშვნელოვანი რაც დღე აკლია თანამედროვე ქართულ საზოგადოებას.ამის თაობაზე ბევრ პატივსაცემ პიროვნებას წარომუთქვამს სიტყვა და თავის სიტყვაში დაუმარცვლავს და გამოუკვეთია ეს მეტან მნიშვნელოვანი თვისება ადამაინში.
პ ა ს უ ხ ი ს მ გ ე ბ ლ ო ბ ა!
ყველა ადამიანი პასუხსიმგებელია ერისა და ქვეყნის წინაშე,მაგრამ რომელ ერსა და ქვეყანაზეა საუბარი,როცა საქართველოში ადამიანებს სამოქალაქო პასუხისმგებლობის განცდა არ აქვთ.ეს კიდევ არაფერი მოდი გაკვრით შევეხოთ მეგობრობრებს შორის ურთიერთობას,ადამიანს მეგობარი გონია ის ვისთანაც ადამიანურ სიმპათიას განიცდის და ვერ აცნობიერებს პასუხსიმგებლობას მისი მეგობრის წინაშე.რაც შეეხება ხელისუფლების პასუხისგებლობაზე,ეს ხომ საერთოდ 0-ია.(ვინაიდან აბსოლიტურად აპოლიტიკური ბლოგია ახსნას არ დავიწყებ რატო).
აგერ ამ პატარა პოსტში უკვე შვიდჯერ ვახსენე სიტყვა” პასუხსისმგებლობა” და არც ერთხელ უხეშად არ მოგხვედრიათ ყურში.ეს იმიტომ, რომ ყველანაირად ვეცადე უმტკივნეულოდ გამეღვიძებინა ამ პოსტის მკითხველისთვის პასუხისმგებლობის გრძნობა თუ არა და ჩაგვძირა ამ უპასუხისმგებლობამ ღრმა ჭაობში და ეს ისეთი ჭაობია საიდანაც ამოსვლა შეუძლებელია!
მოდით ავდგეთ!ყველამ ავიღოთ ჩვენ-ჩვენი წილი პასუხისმგებლობა!ყველა ამოისუნთქბს და ჩვენც მართლები ვიქნებით,ერის ღვთისა და რაც ყველაზე მთავარია ჩვენი სინდისის წინაშე!

This scene from Jim Jarmusch’s ‘Coffee and Cigarettes’ is absolutely cringeworthy. He has managed to capture the essence of the awkward and disjointed conversation perfectly. I have had many of these in my time. Sometimes I feel like my life is a series of awkward conversations so when one finally goes really well it is such a surprise/relief.

Would it be unfair to say that Iggy Pop and Tom Waits are two of the ugliest guys in Rock n Roll? Iggy has had that emaciated, stick insect look going for as long as I can remember and Tom is just particularly troll like.