Bienvenidos a todos a este blog, creado para emprender el desciframiento de los códigos cinematográficos, sacar a la luz su genealogía. El cine se ha revelado en el último siglo como un poderoso ámbito prefigurador de la experiencia ordinaria. Las producciones cinematográficas contribuyen al desarrollo de un lenguaje no sistemático que atraviesa los cuerpos y mediatiza su interacción, creando así ese tipo de experiencia que se ha dado en llamar “cultura popular”. Aquellas redes de signos que, recorren y atraviesan películas, libros, videojuegos, productos de consumo audiovisual en general forman un todo de influencias cruzadas y diversificadas en múltiples recorridos, si bien el significante-película es, sin duda, la fórmula que más eficazmente contribuye a expandirlos, que mejor y más velozmente se adapta (se ha adaptado) a las condiciones materiales de la interacción. Lo que aquí queremos es, por tanto, arrojarnos a esa multiplicidad de significantes que subyacen al Significante y sacar a la luz sus “parecidos de familia”, configurando así constelaciones que den cuenta de dicha diversidad de influencias cruzadas. Así pues, os animo, queridos lectores, a que acompañeis mi tarea con vuestra atención y comentarios.
El siguiente post irá dedicado a la influencia que la obra de Hitchcock ejerce sobre las novelas y películas de James Bond

I’m a hoarder by nature, so my drawers and cupboards are full of all sorts of useless old tat – buttons for shirts I’ve long since got rid of, Top Trumps cards I haven’t used since I was 11, that sort of thing.

But when I go on holiday I can legitimately hoard things, and often what looks like nothing to other people has great significance to me: sat in front of me, for example, is a big stone which I am using as a paperweight to keep an unruly pile of receipts in check.  But it’s not just any old stone.  It was a stone I washed Bosante the elephant with in a crocodile-infested river in Nepal in the summer. 

Having a bath with an elephant - out of shot to the left is a crocodile...

I’m probably a bit sentimental with souvenirs, and I do tend to keep nigh-on anything as a reminder or keepsake.  But I love buying things which show the culture of the place I’ve been to, and Nepal was brilliant for that.

Ganesh painting

Above is a painting of the Hindu God Ganesh which I picked up in Pokhara for less than £5.  It is painted onto cloth and the colours and design are stunning.  Held up to the light or placed in a well-lit window, the colours glow and shimmer – it took somebody hours to make, and I feel privileged to own it and be blessed by its ‘good luck’ charm.

Hand-carved wooden face mask

Hanging beneath Ganesh on my wall is this slightly scary face mask which I picked up for the equivalent of about £3.50 in Pokhara.  I particularly like the third eye in the middle of the forehead, which I think is a nod to the wrath of the Hindu God Shiva whose third eye opens to see the evils of the world…

Buddhist prayer wheel

More religious iconography, this time recognising the influence of Tibetan culture into Nepal from the displaced refugees who have set up villages and monasteries throughout the country.  This prayer wheel opens up to reveal Buddhist scriptures and mantras which are chanted as the wheel is spun.

An Indian wall-hanging

To diverge away from Nepal, my greatest souvenir extravagance this summer was the above wall-hanging (£10.50) which I bought in Mandawa in the northwest of India.  According to the vendor, it was hand-stitched by “gypsy women” over a period of several weeks. 

I don’t doubt he was telling the truth, but maybe I do doubt his judgement (or his eyesight).  As I walked into his shop he beamed at me and shouted “James Bond!”

I’d say most wine regions are beautiful, but St.-Émilion is downright stunning. I felt like Dorothy waking up in Oz as we entered the countryside. Being autumn, the vineyards were gold in color, the sky was deep blue, and the strong morning sun further illuminated the scene. The town of St.-Émilion is everything you’d expect from a former medieval village (cobblestone walkways, hanging trellises, outdoor cafes). Today, it devotes itself to wine and wine tourism, where there is literally a wine shop on every corner—sometimes right next to one another.

St. Emilion town and countryside.

I was touring St.-Émilion with my MBA class at the Bordeaux International Wine Institute. Our day began with a visit to the Maison du Vin de St.-Émilion and a presentation on the different appellations followed by a wine tasting.  Here are a few highlights we learned about the St.-Émilion wine region, which includes the appellations St-Émilion, St.-Émilion Grand Cru, Lussac St.-Émilion, and Puisseguin St.-Émilion:

• St.-Émilion is today the only wine region to be a World Heritage site: The region was UNESCO protected in 1999.
• Many small producers: The area distinguishes itself from the rest of Bordeaux with lots averaging just 5-6 hectars (more like in Burgundy).
• Large export market: St.-Émilion is among the largest exporting regions in Bordeaux, with 41% of its wines sold outside of France (the avg. for Bordeaux exports is just 12%).
• Main grape varietals: Merlot (60%), Cabernet Franc (30%), Cabernet Sauvignon (10%)—you will also find scattered amounts of Malbec and Carménère, which may become more popular as global climate change persists.
• First wine classification in 1955: St.-Émilion’s wines are classified either as Grands Crus Classés or the more prestigious Premiers Grands Crus Classés (which is further divided into A and B catagories); The system is re-evaluated every 10 years.  

A view from inside the limestone caves of Clos Flourtet, used primarily for wine storage.

In the afternoon we visited Clos Fourtet, followed by Chateau Angélus. Both of these producers are Premiers Grands Crus Classés producing first and second label red wines.

Don’t get lost in the caves!

The most impressing aspect of Clos Fourtet is its underground cellars, a vast network of caves used to store wine. While touring the cellars, I felt like I was walking through the catacombs of Egypt—there were tunnels everywhere! These caves are constructed of limestone bedrock, which is almost white in color and gives off a very nice glow. I asked our guide if they hold many events in their cellars. Her response was that they’ll stage an occasional tasting, but have to be very careful that the guests don’t wander off in the caves because they may never come back!

Bond drinks Bordeaux

I always knew James Bond was a fan of Bollinger Champagne, but it wasn’t until I entered Chateau Angélus that I learned the latest 007, Daniel Craig, also drinks red Bordeaux—1982 Chateau Angélus to be precise. In the most recent Casino Royale film (during the scene where he first meets Vesper Lynd while traveling by train to Montenegro) Bond orders a bottle of ‘82 Ch. Angélus, which is visibly placed between them on the table.

Several bottles of '03 Ch. Angelus---ready for tasting!

Well, I can’t disagree with 007’s taste in wine—I was fortunate enough to try the 2003 Ch. Angélus and, wow, this wine is amazing! It is a 50/50 blend of Merlot and Cabernet Franc. The color was deep garnet with a nose of black pepper, red cherry and truffle. Overall, a full-bodied wine with flavors of mushroom and sour cherry. However, it is the mouthfeel that distinguishes this wine: a sensation as smooth as velvet, luscious beyond belief—absolutely incredible!

It’s like Caroline Gaspard read my mind!!! seriously! “life is a role play, it all depends on the role you wan to play”

http://akillis.fr/
Jewelry pieces between 8000-20000€!

“bang bang shot you down”

Starring: Sean Connery, Charles Gray, Jill St. John
Director: Guy Hamilton
Writer(s): Ian Fleming, (novel) Richard Maibaum, Tom Mankiewicz (screenplay)
Studio: EON
Runtime: 115 min
Rated: PG
Official HZ Cinema Score: *** stars

“Curious… how everyone who touches those diamonds seems to die”

[Warning—this review contains a couple spoilers within it, of both this movie, and also concerning ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Service’… If you wish not to be spoiled, cease reading now.]

Hello everyone and welcome to the seventh installment in my series of reviews covering the famed ‘James Bond’ movie franchise. This time around the movie we’ve got on tap is 1971’s ‘Diamonds Are Forever’ starring Sean Connery once more in the role of secret agent Double O’ Seven for what would be the final time for over a decade, and the final time for good as far as the official EON cannon of films is concerned. For some brief back-story concerning this, Sean Connery was reportedly finished with Bond for good when he left the role after 1967’s ‘You Only Live Twice’ but after the abysmal box office performance of 1969’s ‘On Her Majesty’s Secret Service’ and its star George Lazenby declining to return to the role again, it was decided by the producers and the studio that the only option was simply to offer Connery more money than he could reasonably resist, which at the time was a cold one million two hundred thousand pounds, or two million dollars (or twenty million you could say, after being adjusted for inflation in today’s currency…) and so that, as they say, was that. A few other new actors were considered for the role, but once Connery’s name was down in black ink, all of that dilly dallying ceased, and work began in earnest.

So now, as the question always goes at the end of the day in each of these reviews, was this particular Bond movie worthy of the lofty price tag its star actor commanded? All in all I would have to give this movie a “thumbs in the middle” perhaps leaning slightly up. Connery of course, is his usual impeccable Bond best, so unlike last time there are no complaints in that department. Guy Hamilton, the man who directed the five star classic ‘Goldfinger’ returned to the franchise here for his second of four films in the series… And as far as gadgets, girls, style, and action goes, this movie has all of that and then some, as well as arguably the greatest villain Bond ever faced in Ernst Stavro Blofeld.

With all that said, why, you ask, would I give this movie such a middle of the road rating? Well, personally, for me, the reason for the rating boils down solely to one thing, that being, redundancy. While Goldfinger had a fully engaged plot that kept you guessing and waiting to see just how Bond was going to get out of each situation he encountered, here instead there was only the old familiar Bond formula, with every cliché (entertaining as they might be) in the book, being recycled with the precision of an advanced computer program. Yes there were the usual instances of Bond being chased, or trapped, or whathaveyou, but never at any point did I feel even the slightest bit concerned for him, I mean after all, he’s James freakin’ Bond ya know? To make matters worse, the biggest physical threat to Bond in this movie isn’t Blofeld, or any of his highly trained henchmen, but rather, Bambie and Thumper, two beautiful leggy gals who appear to be plucked straight out of some kind of cheap blacksploitation movie from later on in the decade from which this movie was made. If I were to make an uber-sexist comparison here from Bond movies to women (two themes that normally go together, on screen anyway), ‘From Russia With Love’ and ‘Goldfinger’, would be the equivalent of two world class supermodels, with perfectly proportioned, all natural bodies, the faces of divine angels, as well as interesting and engaging personalities to boot, standing at a high class cocktail bar in expensive evening dress, drinking some vintage chilled champagne and casually glancing at you from afar with alluring looks, while ‘Diamonds Are Forever’ would be their equally hot but mentally vacuous and all in all uninteresting (from a conversational point of view) younger cousin with mammoth silicone implants and a high pitched squeaky voice, standing outside your local pub, wearing a see through top and barely there mini skirt, cheap yager shot in hand, crudely crossing and uncrossing her legs, and yelling for you to come over and… Well, you get the picture I presume.

With those thoughts out of the way, now we can dig into the actual meat and bones of this movie. First of all the story, if that’s what it wishes to be called, begins with what Bond himself refers to as a routine diamond smuggling operation, hardly worthy of his time. In the grand scheme of things, this smuggling operation is somehow contrived into being the source of power for a giant space laser (operated strangely enough, by a cassette tape), owned and operated by you guessed it, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, to be used to hold hostage the entire world for a massive sum of extortion money. That Blofeld, what a glutton for punishment this guy is, time after time, he spends countless billions on these cockamamie schemes for world domination or at the very least, to turn some kind of profit, but that ‘waskily wabbit’ James Bond, is always right there, mucking up the works and denying him his much worked for prize. Repeated enough times, you can actually watch these movies and begin to view Blofeld as the victim, and Bond as the bully, who just can’t let poor little Blooey (my nickname for the mad villain) have even a brief moment in the sun. Before this all begins, we first see Bond on the hunt for the aforementioned Blofeld, who in the last movie, if we are to assume there is to be any kind of continuity between the Lazenby film in 1969 and this one directly following it in 1971, murdered Bond’s newlywed wife, Tracy. Bond eventually catches up with the person he assumes to be Blofeld, undergoing some kind of plastic surgery to alter his appearance, while submerged in some bubbly mud like substance, which Bond promptly uses to drown him in.

This sets the scene for Bond to return to routine work as usual back at headquarters. In one of the early briefing scenes between Bond and M, when Bond complains of this smuggling assignment being beneath his stature as an agent, M reprimands him like a father might take to ask a not too ambitious adult son still living at home and spending all day on the couch playing video games. After the debriefing, which gets into the specifics of the smuggling operation to a degree which neither Bond himself, or any of us could possibly be interested in, he is finally released into this tangled mess of a smuggling conspiracy to put all the pieces together and bring to justice the mastermind behind the whole affair.

Before we move on to the rest of the fun stuff found in this movie though, there is one short exchange during the beginning of this movie that while I had watched it several times before, never really gave me pause until just recently watching it. The scene I’m referring to is the one where Bond is just about to set off for Amsterdam, (the location where he begins his mission in this movie) and just before departure he engages Miss Moneypenny in some fairly typical and polite flirting comments which she returns in jest back at him… However, I noticed at the end, how, when Bond asks Moneypenny if there’s anything he can get her while he’s away in Amsterdam, she matter-of-factly says something to the effect of “how about a diamond… in a ring perhaps?…” to which Bond makes a witty retort, smiles, and then departs on his merry way. Now, viewed from the point of view that this is a stand alone movie, that’s nothing more than the usual flirtatious cuteness that Miss Moneypenny provides in every picture she’s in and of no real consequence. However, if you are to take the series as a whole, or in the form of a continuing saga, chronicling the complete evolution of the Bond character from the point of view of the trauma that was just inflicted upon him in the last movie, then James should’ve promptly slapped Moneypenny in the mouth and said “You cold hearted bitch… you know my wife was just murdered recently. You were at the wedding for pete’s sake!” I don’t know why, but that whole deal there made me shake my head somewhat, although if nothing else, it is probably proof that at the time anyway, the producers of the Bond series, wanted so little to do with the previous Lazenby film, that they were now treating it like it never even existed at all, so in that sense perhaps this movie could be considered the first of many coming ‘Bond reboots’…

One high point for this movie, to me anyway, was the steady supply of Bond girls. I already mentioned ‘Bambie and Thumper’ up above, so leaving them aside, Tiffany Case was the primary leading lady in this picture, and she fulfilled all the duties required for her role. Her character was that of a smuggler, working under Blofeld who Bond was to get close enough to, to glean valuable information from her. The next one, and the girl whose name everyone remembers, even though her character is hardly on screen for more than five minutes, is Plenty O’ Toole, who showed plenty of style and personality, not to mention cleavage, so much so that I was really hoping she would stick around and replace Ms. Case… Such was not to be the case though. Aside from the girls, Bond also had his usual back-ups, first of all in the ever reliable old Q, who provided him with those ever useful creative contraptions to get him out of all the various jams he finds himself in. There’s also Felix Leiter, an American CIA agent, and longtime Bond ally dating back to Bond’s first picture, Dr. No. Among the people who Bond has to deal with as enemies in this movie include two rather bizarre characters called Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint, two openly homosexual hitmen who tail Bond and kill various people related to the smuggling operation in order to cover Blofeld’s tracks. They have the annoying habits of making horrifically bad jokes and finishing each others sentences. I wanted them both killed the second they appeared on screen, but unfortunately had to put up with them through virtually the entire movie. Blofeld himself here was played quite capably by Charles Gray, who formerly was best known in the Bond world for playing a man named Henderson who was one of Bond’s contacts in ‘You Only Live Twice’.

While he does a commendable job here and can in no way be criticized for his performance, I consider it a lost opportunity that the casting people were not able to sign on Donald Pleasence to reprise the role that he mastered, even given the scandalously little screen time he had in the last Connery movie. All in all Blofeld’s scenes with Bond in this movie are, aside from the great car chase scenes, the high point of the entire film for me, and without them here, this movie would receive a far lower rating than the one it currently enjoys. Another major character who plays a role in Blofeld’s scheme here is ‘Willard Whyte’ a reclusive billionaire played by Jimmy Dean meant to bring to mind the late Howard Hughes, who supposedly lives in the top floor of his Las Vegas hotel dubbed ‘The Whyte House’ and hasn’t been seen outside of it in over five years. Finally, anyone who has watched a lot of old westerns or John Wayne movies will be pleased to recognize old Bruce Cabot in this movie, who plays an employee of Mr. Whyte, as well as an underling and trusted ally of Blofeld.

I mentioned the car chases above there, and for my money, the ones here are some of the best in the entire series. Although he doesn’t have his trademark Aston Martin with him, James Bond more than makes up for that with a shiny new red Mustang which he drives in ways that I’m pretty sure are actually physically impossible. The police chase him throughout the streets of Las Vegas, but are alas, unable to even come remotely close to cornering him as you would expect. Aside from that he also at one point commandeers a ‘Moon Buggy’ for a fun little romp through the desert that sees plenty of overturned automobiles and hapless underlings crashing into one another. The only complaint I had with these scenes is that the classic James Bond theme music was not played at any point throughout either chase. To make up for that misjudgment I simply hummed the tune in my head while Bond swerved around the city streets and desert trails in his various souped up rides. On top of the chases, there is also a lot of witty one liners from Bond and others throughout this movie, which made for some fun moments, and which were a pre-curser to the light hearted days to come with the next actor who would take the role from Connery.

So what’s my final verdict on this movie you ask? Personally, in light of some of the criticisms above, I say see it. I wouldn’t rush out to the video store and snatch it up mind you, but it’s of a high enough quality in my mind to warrant either catching it on television or watching it on a rainy day when there’s little else to do. The fact that it’s not in my mind at least, one of the essential Bond movies, in no way negates from the fact that it is still, for all its flaws, a very fun piece of afternoon matinee material. So to sum up my thoughts here, I again say ’see it’ if you’ve got nothing better going on, but by no means make it a priority, as there are far better Bond movies out there worth seeking out before you get to this one. That concludes our review for the time being. I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to stop by and check it out, and of course, James Bond will return next time in my review of ‘Live and Let Die’ and with that we will formally begin to run down the legendary era of Bond movies staring none other than Sir Roger Moore in the role of Agent Double O’ Seven. So with that, I bid you a fond Bond farewell and say “see you all, next time…”

Cheerio.

Jules

Det fanns en röd tråd, ja tråd kanske det inte var.. snarare ett garn. Jag minns inte hur jag fått tag på det men det fanns där…

Mamma och jag hade haft ett jättegräl tidigare på dagen som varit nära att sluta ganska illa. Jag minns inte vad hon varit arg för den här gången.. men hon hade slagit i en dörr och hotat om att göra mig illa.

Efter det hade jag stängt in mig på mitt rum.  En lång stunds gråt  senare mindes jag något från en film jag hade sett. Någon  “Ensam Hemma”  version eller något liknande.. (det kan till och med ha varit en James Bond film.. men det hör inte hit ) man hade reglat en dörr med hjälp av band och sådant… Det var iallafall en ganska komplicerad anordning som jag kom ihåg den och i flera olika led av händelser med den här tråden så skulle den som öppnade dörren skada sig..

I mitt fall ville jag bara kunna låsa in mig. Min bror fick låsa in sig på sitt rum, men inte jag. Jag visste att det fanns massvis med extranycklar till våra rum men hon hade gömt alla utom en.. och den satt inne i rummet hos storebror som alltid, alltid hade låst sitt rum så vida han var hemma, vill säga.

I ett upprört tillstånd med blandning av panik och rädsla, band jag det här garnet runt i allt jag kunde komma åt som var starkt nog att hålla emot en dörr. Skrivbordet, sängen garderoberna, bokhyllan. Jag hyperventilerade. Jag var övertygad om att skulle någon komma in i rummet skulle de utöva sina hot. De skulle skada mig. Fly kunde jag inte göra.. för fönstren hade någon spärr jag inte förstod mig på. Jag kunde fly till balkongen storebror hade till sitt rum men inte längre än så eftersom det ändå var på andra våningen… Medan jag band fast möblerna i dörren i hopp om att det skulle stoppa någon från att bryta sig in, så  tänkte jag ut en plan B. Bara utifall.. så att jag skulle kunna få sova och känna mig trygg. ..

Så  jag tänkte, i mitt barnsinne,  att band jag garnet tillräckligt mycket runt om i rummet så skulle mamma eller pappa inte göra sig besväret av att bråka med alla trådar som gick hit och dit för att kunna ta sig till mig. Jag hann knappt tre meter ifrån dörren med allt bindande innan mamma utan problem får upp dörren och tittar på mig, överraskat.  Hon hade ett uttryck som att hon hade planerat säga något.. men… orden verkade ha fastnat i halsen. Jag tittar tillbaks lika överraskad jag också.  Efter en stunds tystnad vaknar en fråga i mamma.

- …Va gör du?

Jag tittar på henne en lång stund. Känner pulsen i halsen men hyperventilerar inte längre.

“Leker…”

Originally silent, the lion’s roar was added to films in August 1928

MGM is home to some of the most famous franchises in cinema history, including James Bond and the Pink Panther. But staggering under the weight of almost $4bn of debt, the studio is now looking for a buyer.

Read Article.

]]> http://thisblksistaspage.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/friday-night-music-november-20-shirley-bassey-diamonds-are-forever-1971/ Sat, 21 Nov 2009 03:30:31 +0000 blksista http://thisblksistaspage.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/friday-night-music-november-20-shirley-bassey-diamonds-are-forever-1971/

She wasn’t just known for singing the theme song to Goldfinger. Shirley Bassey is just about the only singer to have been asked to sing a theme song for three James Bond movies. I liked this particularly for the last stanza, when she sings, Diamonds are forever, forever, forever. Chills. I do mean chills. I used to turn my radio up when she would come on the wavelength, the days when pop music was still played on AM radio. This girl still has a powerful voice at the age of 72.

Born in Cardiff, Wales from an interracial marriage between an Efik Nigerian seaman and a Yorkshire-born white woman, Bassey identifies as Welsh, the same nationality as Tom Jones. So she was lumped together with the other Brits when they stormed onto the shores of the United States in 1963–The British Invasion, so to speak. She’s been active for over 50 years as a singer. Bassey has been married twice, but the fathers of her two daughters remain unknown. She and her second husband also adopted a grand-nephew. Several years back, though, the body of her youngest daughter Samantha was found in the Avon River, an apparent suicide. Bassey steadfastly refuses to believe that Samantha’s death was self-inflicted.

Shirley Bassey was created a Dame Commander of the British Empire in December 1999. Last week, she released a new album called The Performance. The guest performers include Gary Barlow, K.T. Tunstall, Manic Street Preachers, Pet Shop Boys, John Barry, Kaiser Chiefs, and Don Black.

Enjoy!

I  Know its been a while since ive posted on here (mainly because i started a tumbr account, and it seems smoother and faster to use and i have just sort of fell into it). http://mrneedle.tumblr.com/

Anyways ive been beavering away on various things including more club posters for various places, some editorial design and a new project (This Is) Bond.

A project which combines my passion for Bond Films and my love and need to design and create things.

Over the course of the next year i will be creating a poster for each film (in between projects)

Here is the poster i created for Goldeneye

.

007 vs 0SS117
Bond, James Bond vs Hubert Bonisseur de la Bath
Le charme de Sean Connery & Roger Moore vs Le charme de Jean Dujardin
L’impérialisme anglo-saxon vs Le colonialsme français
Le flegme anglais vs l’arrogance française

MORE GAGA!

Okay, Okay, I’m moderately obsessed with Lady Gaga…and I love Beyonce too. They are the two most creative female artists when it comes to videos, and now they are  in a video together! Even though I really love the Bond influence, I wish this video pushed boundaries more, especially after seeing Lady Gaga’s new video. But, I know its Beyonce, and she has a huge mainstream audience that might be scared off if they saw her laying in bed with a dead body or with overly anorexic CGI manipulated dancers. Oh well.

Znów plakat miesiąca

Kampania nowego kanału filmowego Telewizji n – nFilmHD, pod hasłem „Włącz nowy kanał filmowy” realizowana dla ITI Neovison na nośnikach Cityboard Media otrzymała tytuł Plakat Miesiąca w październikowej odsłonie konkursu City Plakat.

Profesorowie ze Szkoły Wyższej Psychologii Społecznej (ach ci profesorowie) w Warszawie, jako jury (sic) konkursu,  wytypowali najlepsze w ich ocenie layouty reklamowe, jakie w październiku zagościły na nośnikach Cityboard Media. Zwyciężyły plakaty promujące nowy kanał filmowy telewizji n – nFilmHD (w trzech wersjach: z Iron Manem, Indianą Jonesem i nowym Jamesem Bondem – „Quantum of Solace”).

– Niewątpliwie uwierzyliśmy w siłę płynącą z prostego przekazu, wskazującego na obecność wielkich gwiazd w telewizji nowej generacji n, a dokładnie w kanale nFilmHD – komentuje wygraną Elżbieta Oryl, Kierownik Działu Planowania i Zakupu Mediów ITI Neovision. – Szczególne podziękowania kierujemy pod adresem Agencji BNA za twórczą inspirację, Agencji Taxidriver za bardzo prostą, ale przez to właśnie trudną do wykonania wizualizację oraz sobie samym za powstrzymanie się od typowej dla naszej profesji potrzeby, aby wykorzystać każde wolne miejsce.

Na drugim miejscu wyróżniono kampanię książki „Pożyczona miłość” Bridget Asher realizowaną dla Wydawnictwa Otwartego pod hasłem „Zgodziłabyś się udawać czyjąś żonę?” Za jej layout odpowiadał Adam Stach z Wydawnictwa. Uznanie zdobyły także outdoorowe reklamy aplikacji Nokia Maps (trzecie miejsce). Plakaty do kampanii Nokii przygotowała agencja reklamowa JWT (Art Director: Agnieszka Węglarska, Copywriter: Arkadiusz Majewski).

Jako zdobywca nagrody Plakat Miesiąca, ITI Neovison będzie brała udział w konkursie na Plakat Roku City Plakat. W rocznym podsumowaniu konkursu jeden z 12 najlepszych Plakatów Miesiąca otrzyma tytuł Plakatu Roku oraz specjalną nagrodę w postaci konsultacji specjalisty z SWPS do layoutu przy następnej kampanii, a także miesięczną kampanię reklamową na nośnikach 6×3 m od Cityboard Media gratis.

City Plakat jest realizowany przez firmę reklamy zewnętrznej Cityboard Media i Szkołę Wyższą Psychologii Społecznej w Warszawie jako jedna z wielu płaszczyzn współpracy. Konkurs ruszył się we wrześniu 2009 r., zaś jego rozstrzygnięcie nastąpi we wrześniu 2010 r.

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer is close to $4 billion dollars in debt and they will soon be looking for a buyer. The studio owns – among other things – the rights to the James Bond franchise, but this situation doesn’t seem to be affecting the momentum of the next film in the series. Apparently, the 23rd Bond film is already in pre-production and will start filming in the latter half of 2010. We can expect it to come out sometime in 2011 if everything goes according to plan. If you can’t wait until 2011, here is a short review for Casino Royale and my thoughts about Quantum of Solace from the end of last year. Also, if you’re really impatient and you happen to have several billion dollars lying around I’m sure you could buy MGM and get things moving a little faster.

Remember that awesome car chase in 007 Tomorrow Never Dies?? Bond has jumped into the backseat of his BMW and he uses his cell phone to DRIVE HIS CAR. And do many other cool things. Watch here!

Well, an iPhone and Blackberry app have come out that will turn you into James Bond! I’m just kidding, the app can unlock your car, locate where you parked it, and contact roadside assistance. Initially free, but after 6 months there is an annual fee of $280.

I don’t know…my own car remote can lock/unlock my car for free (also pop open my trunk), my brain remembers where I parked my car (or I can use other free apps for that), and I can use my own phone to call for roadside assistance, thanks.

So, until this app allows me to drive my car with my phone, I will be holding onto my $280. But still, pretty cool!

[CrunchGear]

Starring: George Lazenby, Telly Savalas, Diana Rigg
Director: Peter R. Hunt
Writer(s): Ian Fleming, (novel) Richard Maibaum, Michael Reed (screenplay)
Studio: EON
Runtime: 140 min
Rated: PG
Official HZ Cinema Score: *** 3/4 stars

James Bond 007 is back!

Hello everyone and welcome to the sixth installment in my series of reviews chronicling the entire James Bond film franchise. In this edition for the first time since I started writing these reviews we have not only a different sort of Bond movie to explore, but also a brand new Bond to examine as well. The film is 1969’s On Her Majesty’s Secret Service directed by Peter R. Hunt and starring none other than the infamous model turned actor, George Lazenby, in the role of British Secret Service Agent 007. That’s right, we’re reviewing that movie. This movie is one that sharply divides both die hard and casual fans of this series alike in their opinion of it. Commercially it was among the biggest Bond flops of all time at the box office (although it did turn a substantial profit), and even today it is rarely if ever seen on television due to its rather long running time. And even during the Christmas season when you can normally find James Bond films a plenty on many networks in multiple movie marathons spanning the course of several days sometimes, this movie is still neglected to the point that you could almost say it has been black balled by popular cinematic history to such an extent that whenever someone takes over a role from another well established actor that it has become a fashionable passing joke to say so and so is the ‘George Lazenby’ of their particular franchise..

That is kind of a shame I think, because, personally, I feel this movie deserves a solid spot in at the very least, the top five movies in the entire franchise. So what, besides the running time you ask, keeps this classic movie from getting the recognition it truly deserves in my opinion? You could almost sum the entire diagnosis up in one name, “Connery, Sean Connery”, that is. Up until this point the role and the persona of James Bond had been Connery’s alone, and to the movie going public, to put an actor, any other actor, at that time anyway, other than Connery in that role was tantamount to Bond blasphemy. In later years after Connery finally relinquished the role many other actors would settle comfortably into Bond’s shoes with little resistance, but in 1969, for George Lazenby, the first successor of Sir Connery, he had a bloody uphill battle that was near impossible for him, or anyone for that matter, to come out on top of. It probably didn’t help that before this movie he had zero acting experience whatsoever, and his only experience of any kind in front of a camera, was in the form of being a male model. Other than Lazenby, the role of James Bond in this movie was also offered to Timothy Dalton, another future Bond actor who can sort of feel a kinship with Lazenby in that he is one of those Bonds that divides fans and critics alike in their opinions of both him and the movies made while he was under contract for the role. Dalton of course, turned down the part at this point, feeling that at the time, being in his mid twenties that he was too young to be James Bond. And so with that George Lazenby received the call up and the position was his.

So the question goes, how do I think he did with this role? This is a hard question to answer on many fronts. In comparison to Connery of course he was an absolute farce, and even when compared to later actors like Roger Moore, Tim Dalton, or Pierce Brosnan, he falls far short of each of them for the simple reason that at the time he made this movie he was not an actor, because the people who made this movie felt, I think wrongly, that a true actor was not required for the role of James Bond, but rather just a stuntman. In the case of this movie which I would say is probably one of the most emotionally demanding of any Bond film in history, that an actor the caliber of Connery was absolutely essential. But with all that being said, I personally cannot come down too hard on old Lazenby, as when you consider the difficult place he was put into, he did a more than adequate job of at least not embarrassing himself, or the franchise, when it came to portraying James Bond. In his own special way George Lazenby brought that classic Bond wit, charm, and style, not in droves like Sean Connery did mind you, but enough of it and in the important parts and places anyway, and also when it came down to the heavy emotional scenes, including probably the heaviest scene in the film franchise’s history, I thought and still think, even after multiple viewings that Mr. Lazenby was, if nothing else, a ‘sufficient’ actor to portray James Bond in this movie, which is the nicest thing I can think to say about him in retrospect.

It would have been interesting to see what he could have developed into had he had more time to grow into the role in subsequent pictures, but alas, On Her Majesty’s Secret Service was to be his one and only entry into the series, making him the only actor so far in the official EON cannon, not to be brought back for at least one more picture. I cannot and will not heap him with praise and admiration for being one of the best James Bonds to dawn a tuxedo, but, I can say with no shame that I do admire him for stepping up to a very challenging role, and giving us one of the most memorable James Bond movies in the history of the series.

There has been a lot of speculation over the years how Connery would have done with the role of James Bond in this movie. Some suppose that the bored Connery who made ‘You Only Live Twice’ would have been a disaster in this movie. I personally do not think so. Had he not been so adamant about wanting to do something different, which I can respect, and taken this role, I think he would, out of respect for the great script, have upped his game and as a result, this movie, not Goldfinger, not even From Russia With Love, would have been remembered for all time afterward as the one true defining James Bond film to the set the standard for all that would follow it. As it stands now, it is still one of the best in the series, but one that gets heaps and heaps of disrespect and neglect piled upon it.

Now down to the basics of the movie itself, which I will try not to spoil too much, as this is a movie that deserves to be experienced for itself, although I will probably, unavoidably end up giving away a few things, so read on at your own peril. Throughout the movie there are a lot of well done and subtle little nods to the former Connery Bond movies, which, in hindsight probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, since even without them it is hard enough to watch this film without getting a pining feeling for Connery not all that dissimilar to what I imagine it would like to be on a date with a woman who was in many ways like an old ex-girlfriend you carried a heavy torch for, but at the same time, you are forced with the disconcerting reality that no matter how hard you wish her to be someone she is not, or wish Lazenby to morph from a British underwear model into a Scottish badass, it just isn’t meant to be, even when he at one point puts on a Scottish Kilt, which must’ve been done solely to needle Connery. But with that caveat behind us, I did get a chuckle from the intro in which Bond, who had just rescued the main ‘Bond Girl’ of this movie from an attack by two would be killers, and after that she repays him not by falling droopily into his arms for a session of divine romance, but rather, scurries up the hill into her sports car, and speeds away… to which Lazenby quips, straight into the camera ‘This never happened to the other fellow’… Indeed it did not.

The girl in question there was none other than Contessa Teresa di Vicenzo, or Tracy for short, who would be the main Bond Girl for this movie, although to stick her with a title like that is almost unfair in a way, as she would go down in history as the one girl for who would be to Bond something more than just a one night stand or a quick aid in a sticky situation. She would even be referenced in later Bond movies by the likes of Roger Moore and with subtle allusions made in the Dalton movies as well. She was the one girl capable even of bringing James Bond to tears, and it was through her that what before had basically been a very fun action caricature, actually became a living breathing character with flesh and blood, and true emotions. Now I know what you’re thinking, “C’mon man, this is James Bond here, we don’t need none of that crying crap!” which is fair enough, but I think when viewed on its merits as a stand alone feature, the infamous ‘crying’ scene in this movie is for my money the most powerful moment in any James Bond movie right up until the end of 2006’s Casino Royale. It, like the aforementioned movie, gave added insight into how the slick, sleek and sophisticated servant of the Queen became the curt, jaded, alcoholic, womanizing, ruffian that we all know and love from both previous and future movies.

Other than the Countess, Bond’s other allies in this film come in the form of the ever reliable Q, M, and of course the ever lovely Miss Moneypenney, and Tracy’s father, and head of his own criminal enterprise Marc-Ange Draco. The primary villain in this film as in the last one and the film following this one is head of S.P.E.C.T.R.E, Ernst Stavro Blofeld, played here in what for me may be tied only with Donald Pleasence’s portrayal from the previous film, by Telly Savalas. In between the last film and now Bond has been unsuccessful in finding and apprehending this criminal mastermind, a failure that troubles him so much that at one point he vows that if he cannot find Blofeld, he will retire from Her Majesty’s Secret Service and devote his own personal time to bringing this madman to justice by himself. As you can guess, eventually he does catch up with Blofeld in his mountain resort in the Swiss Alps, which provides a stunningly beautiful location for this film, which in many ways deserves top billing with the actors themselves. Blofeld’s current scheme involves a group of brainwashed girls he calls his ‘Angels of Death’ who live with Blofeld in his mountain hide-away, and whom he is feeding subconscious messages to and equipping with various feminine beauty products that all contain chemical weapons of mass destruction of some kind or another. It’s basically your typical zany evil plot perpetrated here by Blofeld.

After a certain number of movies, you’d begin to think after a while, that he probably in the end, didn’t really expect or even intend to get away with his devious schemes for world domination or destruction, but rather, being an evil genius, he probably just didn’t have anything better to do with his time. The majority of the movie’s running time is spent inside this state of the art facility with Bond seducing one ‘Angel’ after another while slowly but surely getting closer to the truth of what Blofeld is attempting to do to the free world. One thing that is puzzling about this movie though is that Bond’s gadgets, which are normally state of the art, are somehow less advanced than they had been in previous films, as in this movie he uses a bulky unwieldy device to crack into a safe containing important information, whereas in the previous film Connery had used a similar device that he was able to slip into his pocket. So, if just for this one movie, technology it seems, had for once gone in the opposite direction of what it normally does.

Also scarcely seen here are the classic Bond cars with their ejector seats and rocket propelled tailpipes. I can’t say I really missed them that much though as the action itself when it finally kicked in was stimulating enough to take your mind off of all that, with the great fight scenes from beginning to end, and especially the fantastic ski-chase scene during the movie’s climax in which Blofeld and his assistant Irma Bunt along with a horde of S.P.E.C.T.R.E agents chase Bond down a snowy mountain hillside during a starry night… It is probably my favorite chase in any Bond movie, if for nothing else than the great scenery provided. That chase manages to spill into a sleepy little village in the middle of a Christmas celebration, and through all sorts of various twists and turns too numerous to detail.

In the end, my favorite scene in the movie was probably the one in which James and Tracy both find themselves bunkered down in an abandoned barn in the middle of a raging blizzard for a cozy little love scene. It’s in scenes like this that you really get the sense that this was no ordinary Bond girl. I won’t spoil what happens after this, although I’m sure many of you already know. Suffice to say that it’s with this scene in mind that makes this movie’s “dark ending” as effective as it is for me, although I did not care for how they casually jumped from that right into the up-tempo Bond theme music after which was kind of disrespectful… But anyway, to wrap this review up, if you haven’t yet seen this fine Bond movie thus yet, don’t beat yourself up, “you’ve got all the time in the world” but still, I wouldn’t recommend tarrying too long, as this is truly a classic, flawed as it is, that I think you will not regret giving at least one chance to. Thanks for reading, and James Bond, and more importantly, Sean Connery will return next time in my review of ‘Diamonds Are Forever’. See you then.

Jules

I’m happy to announce that Licence To Blog (formerly known as Brown on Bond) has reached its one year anniversary!

Many more to come, I hope.

Keep reading. Keep enjoying. Thanks for the views!

Tres compañías se fusionaron en 1924 (Metro Picture Corporation (fundada en 1915), Goldwyn Picture Corporation (fundada en 1917), y Louis B. Mayer Pictures (fundada en 1918) para crear Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, y desde 1928, su característico logo, una cabeza de león rugiendo, ha protagonizado el inicio de sus producciones, propiciando un chiste entre los espectadores cuando aparece en la pantalla “el león de la Metro”: “Esta película ya la he visto…”

Mucho ha llovido desde ese 1924, y muchísimos films, durante décadas, nos han llegado de su mano.

“Avaricia” (1924), de Erich von Stroheim, “El cameraman” (1928) de Clyde Bruckman y Buster Keaton “La parada de los mónstruos” (1932), de Tod Browning, “Lo que el viento se llevó” (1939), de Victor Fleming “Historias de Filadelfia” (1940), de George Cukor, “Mujercitas” (1949), de Mervyn LeRoy, “Mogambo” (1953), de John Ford, “Ben-Hur” (1959), de William Wyler, “Rey de reyes” (1961), de Nicholas Ray, “2001: Una odisea del espacio” (1968), de Stanley Kubrick, “Cuando el destino nos alcance” (1973), de Richard Fleischer, “Hair” (1979), de Milos Forman, “Fama” (1980), de Alan Parker, “Rain Man” (1988), de Barry Levinson, “Thelma & Louise” (1991), de Ridley Scott, “007: El mundo nunca es suficiente” (1999), de Michael Apted, “De-Lovely” (2004), de Irwin Winkler, son una representación mínima de esos films.

Fue en septiembre de este año, cuando al tener “El Hobbit”, una de sus proyectadas producciones, vía libre para comenzar a realizarse, cuando transcendieron los problemas financieros de MGM Studios, y se hablaba de que su precario estado podía llevarle a subastar sus activos, que incluirían los de la mencionada “El Hobbit” y sus derechos sobre James Bond.

Dos meses más tarde, la revista Variety informa que, de forma oficial, los estudios ya han salido a subasta, aunque se les otorga un mes para poner al día el pago de sus deudas. Pero para salir a flote, sus mayores esperanzas estarían fijadas en la venta de los activos de su historia, el logo, la compañía United Artists (adquirida por MGM a principios de los años 80, al declararse en bancarrota después de producir “La puerta del cielo” (1981), de Michael Cimino, la película más cara de la historia hasta el momento, y que resultó un escandaloso fracaso comercial), James Bond, la mitad de su propiedad de “El Hobbit”, añadiendo también la posibilidad de vender su fabulosa biblioteca, que incluye unos 4.000 títulos. En principio, Time Warner, News Corp, y Lionsgate, parecen interesadas en participar en la puja.

La emblemática compañía está a punto de fraccionarse, y no será está vez el león de su logo el que ruja. Otros leones de las finanzas estarán ronroneando de placer, pensando en lo que puede producirles, por ejemplo, Bond, si cae en sus zarpas.

Y es que el mundo es así. Puedes ser hoy el rey de la selva, y en nada, ves como los buitres se disputan tus despojos para engordar con ellos.

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Otros logos de los estudios MGM

El león de la Metro

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Swanson 

I like parent-teacher conferences. Although we did have to miss the third installment of the remake of “V” last night. In the first episode, you could substitute the rhetoric of the Obama campaign last fall for the dialog from the V’s and it was pretty much like watching the same thing.

Anyhow, back to the conferences. I like them now and I think I liked them when I was a kid too. Or at least I didn’t mind them. Probably because they resulted in two half days on a Thursday and Friday during the first week in November every year. An extra half day to pretend you’re Herschel Walker was an excellent way to spend a Friday afternoon back in 1980.

I like visiting the girl’s school. Back in grade school my teachers always decorated the classrooms with the appropriate holiday or seasonal décor. Don’t really see that in the office when you’re a grown-up. Nobody really tacks up pictures of turkeys or pilgrims in their cubes.

Yesterday we had all three conferences for the girls. Plus we had to fit in a conference with the music teacher to talk about much Rye is rockin’ the violin. Teacher says she’s doing well. Although I really have no frame of reference for this. Best I have is that I can doing fairly well playing “Hungry Like the Wolf” on Rockband. Not to mention my air guitar prowess on classics like Def Leppard’s Photograph and Van Halen’s Panama.

Bailey’s conference is first. Her teacher describes her as strong willed and a bit of a perfectionist. I translated that as “stubborn without a cause.” Bails enjoys being right almost as much as she likes to get a laugh out of people. She does not react well to any kind of a lack of success. Regardless of how trivial that unsuccessfulness manifests itself. For example one thing the kindergarteners need to do one on one with their teacher is listening to a sentence and then writing that sentence down the best they can. They get a point for every sound they get right. They can’t spell yet and the teachers are looking to see if they can identify the sound and translate that to the correct letter. For example, the teacher may say, “I like feet,” and the kids have do their best to get it on paper. Probably ends up something like “I lik fet.”

Here is what happened with Bails. She heard the sentence and got as far as “I” and then she doubted herself. She wrote a “l” but wasn’t sure what to do next because she’s sharp enough to realize that she can’t spell yet and simply writing “lik” isn’t correct. She’s also sharp enough to realize that writing “lik” may be okay but is not good enough for her. Instead of just doing her best, she decided it was a better decision to throw the clipboard on which she was writing in the direction of the teacher and then loudly tell said teacher that “You’re the worst teacher ever! You haven’t taught me anything!”

Needless to say, Bails spent some time in the hall thinking about that as all the other kids went outside for recess. Eventually she slinked back into the room to talk it over with her teacher. But that was only because the rest of kids started coming back inside and she knew that if her sisters saw her in the hallway they’d tell us.

So a good start to the conferences and a wonderful injection of confidence into our parenting egos.

Kinsey’s conference is next. In her class and in Bailey’s class they had to write down what they were thankful for on these little turkeys. For example, if it were me I’d write “Ben Roethlisberger” on my turkey. Or maybe “Nachos.” Anyway, after they wrote it down, the class pinned them onto a bulletin board. Kinsey was so thankful she needed three turkeys. She was thankful for her family, for Jesus and for God.

Excellent. After getting sacked in the Bailey’s room, this was like Donovan McNabb hitting Freddie Mitchell on 4th and 26 against the Packers in the 2003 playoffs.

What was Bailey thankful for?

Lunch.

Not her family. Not Mom and Dad. Not even her favorite blanket. Lunch. Practicality is evidently one of her strengths.

Aside from being a bit chatty, which leads to falling a bit behind on getting her work completed, Kinsey is doing great. She loves her teacher. And with her teacher being a Steelers fan, its easy to understand the fondness. You’d think that a conference like this would have us leaving the room like Patton after El Guettar.

Bailey, however, decided that Kinsey’s conference was just an opportunity for her to demonstrate the level to which she’s developed her aptitude for disruptiveness. And you know, unless you’re a defensive coordinator, disruptiveness is not a positive skill set. First she sat on my lap and incessantly asked if I knew how to spell random words that popped into her head.

November, purple, litter.

This became annoying. Not painfully annoying but more like Katie Couric pretending to be an objective journalist annoying.

Then she grabbed a small pillow, pulled it over her head, and walked around the room bumping into things. She was like Adam Sandler. “Look at me, I have a pillow on my head, I’m crazy pillow head!”

I made a move to stand up, grab her and take her into the hallway. But I was too slow. Sometimes I think Mom has small retractable poison tipped darts in her fingernails. Either that or she’s really Jet Li. She reached out, grabbed Bails on the shoulder and guided her onto the floor next to Mom’s seat. She looked like Spock using the Vulcan nerve pinch.

Finally we made it to Riley’s conference. Riley’s conferences have always gone well. All parents need a kid like Riley simply to buoy your belief in yourself. Like playing the Browns. I mean the biggest problem is that Rye’s teacher is worried that she’s moving to slow and not keeping Rye challenged. I don’t really remember any of my teachers using that or a similar line with my parents so I’m guessing she gets that from Mom.

So all in all our evening was sort of a microcosm of the ’76 Steelers. Started slow, finished strong. Either that or the Battle of Shiloh.

Unrelated Top Three of Day: Top Three James Bond movies.

#1 – Thunderball. Underwater harpoon fight. Sharks in a pool. Awesome.

#2 – Diamonds are Forever. First one I remember watching when I was kid. Mr. Kidd and Mr. Wint are still weird.

#3 – For Your Eyes Only. Best of the Roger Moore movies by far. Plus you got to learn what an ATAC machine was.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau l’a fait en 1769. Deux-cent quarante ans plus tard, je m’apprête à le faire devant vous. Me confesser. Me mettre à nu. Parce que voyez-vous, même les inquisiteurs du bon goût ont des choses à se reprocher. Et je ne fais pas exception à la règle. C’est pourquoi, dans une démarche de sincérité inégalée dans l’histoire de l’humanité, j’ai pris la décision de vous livrer mes secrets les plus effroyablement honteux. Mon panthéon de gêne personnelle. Mes casseroles les plus embarrassantes.

Je vous laisse donc me juger, mais avant de le faire, n’oubliez pas d’examiner votre propre conscience.

• Depuis quelques jours, j’écoute en boucle le dernier titre de Lady Gaga, Bad Romance. Si vous lisez ce blog depuis ses débuts, vous savez déjà que Lady Gaga est mon ennemie, et que rien ne me fait tant jubiler que de taper sur cette créature contrefaite et scandaleusement convenue. Et pour son nouveau single, la dinde a mis le paquet: production apocalyptique, vocodeur déréglé, grognements de truie, onomatopées consternantes (Gaga Oulala?), et, forcément, clip destiné a faire tourner de l’oeil même les drag-queens les plus exigeantes. Mais allez savoir pourquoi, ce morceau dégoulinant de nullité me réjouit complètement, et je l’écoute à m’en faire péter les tympans à toute heure du jour et de la nuit, à mon grand désespoir.
• Sur ma photo de profil Facebook, je suis sur un bateau, avec la mer derrière, les cheveux au vent, juste à côté d’un mec canon. Le prototype de la photo pathétique qui signifie regardez-comme-ma-vie-est-géniale-enviez-moi-s’il-vous-plaît-moi-et-mon-bonheur-tellement-parfait-que-je-n’ai-rien-d’autre-à-foutre-que-de-le-mettre-en-scène-pour-350-connards-dont-j’ai-à-peu-près-rien-à-foutre-et-qui-me-le-rendent-bien.
• J’ai vu Batman Forever 6 fois au cinéma. Oui, celui avec Jim Carrey. Et là, vous vous dites, ça aurait pu être pire. C’est mauvais, mais il aurait pu voir six fois Batman & Robin, le film le plus mauvais, le plus ridicule, le plus abyssal de tous les temps. Celui avec Geogre Clooney en Batman et Arnold Schwarzenegger en Mr. Freeze. Ah oui, et aussi Alicia Silverstone en Batgirl. Et bien, euh, comment dire… Je l’ai vu six fois aussi. Oui oui, six fois au cinéma. Voilà, c’est dit. Pour ma défense, je me suis beaucoup repenti.
• La chanson la plus écoutée de ma bibliothèque iTunes est Viva La Vida, de Coldplay. Je suis incapable d’expliquer ma passion pour cette hymne emphatique noyé dans un torrent de cordes gluantes, chanté mollement par l’endive braisée qui sert de mari à Gwyneth Paltrow. J’ai essayé de me rassurer en me rappelant à moi-même que le titre à été co-produit par Brian Eno, mais il me faut regarder les choses en face: j’ai écouté des centaines de fois cette année une chanson écrite par un type qui a appelé sa fille Apple. Et j’ai aimé ça.
• Je n’ai jamais vu King Kong. Le vrai, celui de 1933. Ce qui admettons-le, pour un cinéphile, craint. Et si j’ajoute que je n’ai jamais rien vu d’Eisenstein, de Tarkovski, et d’Ozu, là, je perds toute ma crédibilité. D’autant que Voyage à Tokyo attend patiemment sur une de mes étagères depuis quelques années.
• J’ai assisté à un concert de Spice Girls. Certes, j’étais invité, mais j’étais tout de même ravi d’y aller. J’avais d’ailleurs, à l’époque de mon adolescence, une grande passion pour les cinq pintades peinturlurées, et je peux même me targuer d’avoir vu leur “film” au cinéma. Z’avez vu, quand je m’auto-balance, je fais pas semblant.
• J’aime bien écouter Mika. Non pas que je n’ai pas envie de le gifler, avec sa voix de crécelle, ses tenues qui font mal aux yeux et sa gestuelle de lombric hyperactif, mais j’ai acheté son premier album. Oui, acheté physiquement avec de l’argent dans un magasin. C’est dire. Et le pire, c’est que je ne me suis pas arrêté là: il y a quelques jour, j’ai même été jusqu’à télécharger quelques titres de son nouveau. Très plouc, mais un grand bonheur à écouter sous la douche. Etrangement, Mika et le bruit de l’eau vont très bien ensemble. Entre parenthèses, j’aurais un peu moins honte d’apprécier ses sucrettes musicales s’il arrêtait de noyer le poisson sur sa sexualité avec des déclarations bande-mou du genre “Je ne me suis jamais imposé de limite dans ma vie, je n’ai jamais mis de restriction sur les personnes avec qui je couche… Alors je ne sais pas. Appelez-moi comme vous voulez. Appelez-moi bisexuel si vous avez besoin d’un terme pour moi… C’est l’étiquette dont je pourrais être le plus proche.” Parce que, sans déconner, quand on fait des clips qui ressemblent à ÇA, pourquoi faire sa mijaurée en interview?
• Je connais tous les James Bond par coeur. Même Moonraker. Aimer les premiers avec Sean Connery, cela va de soi. Aimer les derniers grâce à Daniel Craig, c’est la nouvelle tendance. Aimer l’unique essai de George Lazenby, c’est un mini-snobisme. Mais aimer Roger Moore, Thimothy Dalton et MÊME Pierce Brosnan, c’est de l’inconscience. Et c’est dans cet aveuglement que je me suis vautré toute ma vie. Les blagues salaces et pas drôles, le racisme abject de Vivre et Laisser Mourir, la doublure omniprésente de Papi Roger Moore et son lifting dans Dangereusement Votre, la voiture invisible de Meurs un autre jour, même SOPHIE MARCEAU dans Le Monde ne suffit pas, avec son air affecté et son oreille arrachée, j’arrive à la trouver sublime! PRIEZ POUR MON AME!

J’attends vos casseroles personnelles dans les commentaires.

Schutt und Asche.

Einen Monat bevor Roland Emmerichs bahnbrechendes Weltuntergangsszenario zum ersten Mal über die Leinwände flackerte und direkt am Startwochenende einen tsunamigleichen Geldstrom in die Kinokassen spülte, hatte Dr. David Morrison vom astrobiologischen Institut der NASA wenig Gutes über die viralen Marketingmaßnahmen zu sagen, mit denen man bei Sony vorab schon mal ein bisschen wohlige Panikstimmung aufkommen ließ.

InstituteforHumanContinuity.com hieß der Stein des Anstoßes, der für den Weltraumforscher eine Lawine ins Rollen brachte, die allerdings im direkten Vergleich mit den herabstürzenden Schneemassen in Emmerichs Film eher mikroskopische Ausmaße annahm. Bekanntlich ist das Internet ja bereits randvoll mit jeder Menge dubioser Sekten, weißgekleideter Gurus oder langhaariger Hobbypropheten, die vom nahen Ende künden und dazu in der Regel auch ziemlich genaue Daten vorlegen können (welche dann nach Ablauf der jeweiligen Frist – irren ist menschlich – eben nochmal nachgebessert werden müssen). Wen also soll da eine weitere pseudowissenschaftliche Organisation aus der Reserve locken, die für den Stichtag 21.12.2012 die immerhin 94-prozentige Chance einer Kollision des blauen Planeten mit einem anderen Himmelskörper vorausberechnet und Tickets für geheimnisvolle Überlebensarchen verlost? Niemanden. Niemanden jedenfalls, der nicht ohnehin schon vom Untergangsvirus infiziert ist und vielleicht bereits heimlich Plakate mit der Aufschrift „Das Ende naht“ in der Hinterhand hält. Konsequenterweise bedauert im Film selber, als schon die halbe Erdoberfläche in Schutt und Asche liegt, eine der Figuren am meisten die Tatsache, dass ausgerechnet „die Idioten mit den Schildern“ Recht behalten hätten. So kann man es natürlich auch sehen.

Doch Dr. Morrison würde hierüber vermutlich nur den Kopf schütteln. Dem „Independent“ berichtet er in einem Beitrag vom 17. Oktober über mehr als eintausend verängstigte Anfragen von Menschen, die befürchteten, die NASA halte Informationen zurück und helfe auf diese Weise, den Weltuntergang im Maya-Jahr zu vertuschen. Teenager gar habee es gegeben, die sich mit Suizid-Gedanken beschäftigten, weil sie nicht miterleben wollten, wie es mit Mutter Erde zuende geht. – Was einen da in erster Linie lehren sollte, seine Plattensammlung nach Alben von Morrissey oder Robert Smith zu durchsuchen und die aufgespürten Exemplare unauffindbar vor dem eigenen Nachwuchs zu verstecken, ist in Wahrheit (und da können sich alle mit der Erziehungsarbeit überforderten Eltern nach kurzem Aufschrecken wieder beruhigt zurücklehnen und weiter zappen) die Schuld der PR-Abteilung eines großen Hollywood-Studios ohne Moral und Gewissen – letzteres übrigens eine Tautologie.

Fake-Websites sind in der Vermarktungsmaschinerie für US-Blockbuster heute Standard und manchmal mindestens so unterhaltsam wie die beworbenen Filme selber. Auf den ersten Blick mag man sich täuschen lassen, doch bei genauerem Hinsehen wird in aller Regel ziemlich schnell klar, dass man es mit einer oftmals ziemlich kostspieligen Fiktion zu tun hat, die vor allem eines will – ein Produkt verkaufen. Was da unter dem Label „Virales Marketing“ verbucht wird, hat längst den Charakter von Online-Spielerei eingenommen. Filmcharaktere bekommen eigene MySpace-Profile und fiktive Firmen eine aufwendige Webpräsenz. Sogar ganze Wahlkampagnen finden mittlerweile im Netz statt, ohne dass der Kandidat, geschweige denn das Amt, für das er antritt, überhaupt existieren (so geschehen mit Harvey Dent aus „The Dark Knight“).

Im Fall von „2012“ rührten die virale Werbetrommel neben dem anstößigen „Institute for Human Continuity“ (wobei der Name selber ersichtlicherweise bereits der erste Witz der absurden Hoemepage ist) auch die Webpräsenz von „Farewell Atlantis“, dem erfolglosen Weltuntergangsroman von Hauptfigur Jackson Curtis (John Cusack), sowie der offizielle Blog von Charlie Frost (sehr lustig und vollkommen irre: Woody Harrelson), einem Verschwörungstheoretiker, der so ziemlich alles über die letzten Tage der Menschheit weiß und dies mithilfe von selbstgebastelten Flash-Animationen (quasi der dilettantische Gegenpol zu den perfekten CGI-Wundern des Films) an seine Leser weitergibt.

Farewellatlantis.com stellt mit einem downloadbaren Probekapitel und einem Original-Vorwort von Science-Fiction-Autor Nick Sagan (schrieb u.a. einige Episoden von „Star Trek Voyager“) dabei fast eine noch bessere Illusion dar als die umstrittene Instituts-Homepage. Ein Blog hingegen, wie ihn Charlie Frost führt (thisistheend.com), ist tatsächlich nur einer von vielen seiner Art – und bei den meisten weiß man viel weniger über deren Realitätsgehalt als in diesem unübersehbar fiktiven Fall. Dass alle drei Webpräsenzen übrigens deutlich als „Part of the 2012 Movie Experience“ gekennzeichnet sind, hebt sie deutlich von vergleichbaren früheren Maßnahmen im Umfeld von „Blair Witch Project“ bis „Cloverfield“ ab. Dr. Morrision darf sich also wieder beruhigen – sofern er nicht selber Bestandteil der Kampagne ist. Man weiß ja nie.

Im Hinblick auf Emmerichs Untergangsszenario hat das Spiel mit Fiktion und Realität natürlich seinen ganz eigenen Reiz. Während die Marketing-Abteilung bei Sony alles dransetzt, Elemente des Films in der virtuellen Umgebung des Internets mit möglichst vielen Realwerten aufzuladen, macht sich das Geschehen auf der Leinwand einen Spaß daraus, die Sache von der anderen Seite anzugehen. „2012“ spielt in gewissem Sinne in einer Art alternativer Gegenwart, komplett mit einem farbigen US-Präsidenten und einem Gouverneur aus Kalifornien, dessen Englisch mit unüberhörbar steierischem Akzent durchsetzt ist (und dessen Worten man selbstredend keinen Glauben schenken kann, denn, so stellt Jackson Curtis glasklar fest, der Mann ist Schauspieler, und was er sagt, liest er von Karten ab). Doch echte Originale gibt es praktisch keine, auch wenn Deutschland zum Zeitpunkt des Weltuntergangs von einer Frau regiert wird und der italienische Ministerpräsident zu borniert ist, um sich in Sicherheit zu bringen. Einzig die englische Queen hat es in Emmerichs Parallelwelt unbeschadet hinübergeschafft.

So sehr der Film aber auf allzu genaue Imitationen realer Vorbilder verzichtet, so präzise bildet er all das nach, was er in der Folge dann mit den aufwendigsten Zerstörungsmaßnahmen, die es je auf der Leinwand zu sehen gegeben hat, gnadenlos einreißt, umstürzt, dem Erdboden gleichmacht oder überflutet. Und das geschieht nicht nur überaus gründlich, sondern vor allem mit einem derart entfesselten Willen zur visuellen Überwältigung, dass es einen als Zuschauer vollkommen paralysiert. Nie zuvor hat irgendein menschliches Auge Vergleichbares wahrgenommen, und alles, was Emmerich bis dato gemacht hat, wirkt angesichts von „2012“ wie eine bloße Ansammlung von Fingerübungen. Kein Zweifel, der Mann aus Sindelfingen, der hierzulande ebenso gerne wie lange als bemühter aber untertalentierter Spielberg-Klon verlacht wurde, ist auf der Höhe seines Könnens angekommen.

Und das betrifft nicht nur die grandiosen CGIs. Gegen Ende der ersten Stunde nimmt der Film in einem Maße Fahrt auf, dass man es mit der Angst zu tun bekommen kann. Und wenn man sich von den unglaublichen Zerstörungsorgien erholt hat, muss man fast befürchten, dass alles Pulver, das Emmerich zur Verfügung steht, schon verschossen ist – so gewaltig erscheint das, was man da gerade zu sehen bekommen hat. Der erste Angriff der Aliens in „War of the Worlds“ verkommt zum Sandkastenspiel gegen das, was hier geboten wird. Und doch leiht sich der Film den entscheidenden dramaturgischen Trick ausgerechnet genau dort aus. Denn die Tatsache, dass die unfasslichen Bilder vom völligen Zusammenbruch aller Zivilisation (zunächst Los Angeles) nicht selbstzweckhaft abgebildet werden und zur reinen Show verkommen, wie es bei früheren Emmerich-Produktionen verstärkt der Fall war, sondern zumeist den Rahmen einer halsbrecherischen Flucht bilden, sorgt erst dafür, dass man dem Geschehen unabhängig von den Schauwerten folgt und „2012“ ganz nebenbei einige der atemberaubendsten und spannendsten Action-Sequenzen der letzten Kinojahre erhält.

Aber auch sonst sind einige Parallelen zu Spielbergs Apokalypse-Variante nicht von der Hand zu weisen und klar intendiert. Am deutlichsten wird dies in der Konstellation, mit der die Hauptfigur in Gang gesetzt wird. Denn die Zerstörung der Menschheit soll für den durchschnittlichen US-Zuschauer vor allem lesbar sein als Makrokosmos-Variante zerrütteter Familienverhältnisse. Und so bildet folgerichtig die Keimzelle der Gesellschaft denjenigen Ort, der gerettet werden muss, wenn die ganze Rasse überleben soll. John Cusack übernimmt den Part von Tom Cruise und dekliniert ihn nach allen Regeln der Kunst durch. Warum machen Emmerich und sein erneuter Co-Autor Harald Kloser das? Weil es funktioniert.

Doch das Ensemble an Figuren hat noch weitaus mehr zu bieten, und auch hier ist ein entscheidender Unterschied zu früheren Filmen des erfolgreichsten deutschen Kinomachers in Hollywood spürbar. Wo sonst oft eine gewisse Eindimensionalität der Charaktere vorherrschte, entfaltet sich hier eine ganze Handvoll sehenswerter Sympathieträger, die aber immer noch so nah am Rande der gewohnten Klischees entlang balancieren, dass sie für das breite Publikum, wie es ein fast 300 Millionen Dollar teurer Spielfilm braucht, problemlos konsumierbar bleiben. Das ist Emmerich zuvor nur selten, und wenn, dann nur in Ansätzen so trefflich gelungen wie hier. Besonders bemerkenswert ist dabei, dass selbst Figuren, die zunächst nur Abziehbilder zu sein scheinen, nach und nach mehr Tiefe offenbaren dürfen, als man auf den ersten Anschein vermuten würde, und die Darsteller tragen das Ihre dazu bei.

„2012“ ist selbstverständlich nicht frei von gnadenlosen Übertreibungen, unglaublichen Zufällen und hier und da einer gehörigen Portion Pathos. Dagegen ist nichts einzuwenden, denn an anderer Stelle gelingen dem Film dafür auch einige ungewöhnlich stille Momente, die der ganzen Sache zu einem bemerkenswert breiten emotionalen Spektrum verhelfen. Dass im letzten Drittel einiges an Zugeständnissen notwendig wird, um die Spannung aufrecht zu erhalten, ist das Ergebnis einer dramaturgischen Technik, die bereits die meisten Bond-Filme mit Roger Moore vorangetrieben hat – nur dass Emmerich und Kloser noch gehörig eins draufsetzen. Aber wer will ihnen das vorwerfen, wenn man sich schweißgebadet am Sitz festkrallt angesichts der ständigen Knappheit, mit der die Figuren immer wieder so gerade noch dem sicheren Tod von der Klinge springen?

Genau 12.012 Jahre früher reichte dem Urzeitkriegers D´Leh noch ein einziger Speer, um einer fehlgeleiteten Kultur ein Ende zu bereiten, zwölf Jahrtausende später müssen sich schon die Erdplatten verschieben, um die Dinge wieder zurecht zu rücken. Und das ist alleine optisch schon die bessere Variante. The End of the World is a helluva ride.

Artikel © 2009 Thomas Lenz. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.
Filmplakat / Fotos: Sony Pictures Releasing GmbH

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Comment at end

18th November, 2009

According to Newsnight last night Mrs Rompuy calls her beloved “Rambo”. Er … right, Mrs R.

Will Rambo Rompuy bury Blair?

I have no idea if Cherie ever whispers to her other half, “Oh, James …”

Or will the smooth charmer lay them all low?

But of the pictures conjured up by these comparisons, the latter seems more likely than the former, don’t you think?

Life is stranger than fiction, as we know.  The Guardian article – “Who speaks for Europe? Criticism of ’shambolic’ process to fill key jobs” – hardly fills one with confidence.

Van Rompuy, it seems, attended the Bilderberg session to audition for the European job, calling for a new system of levies to fund the EU and replace the perennial EU budget battles.

Like the Bilderberg meeting last week, Thursday night’s summit will also be behind closed doors, as the leaders haggle over the appointment. Officially, Van Rompuy is not a candidate. Nor is Tony Blair. Fredrik Reinfeldt, the Swedish prime minister chairing the summit, hopes to whittle a long list of names down to one and swats aside notions of an open contest or an official field of declared contenders. You could not expect serving prime ministers such as Van Rompuy, said Reinfeldt, to send a “signal to the people of your country, I’m on my way to another job. On Monday I’m back again and I didn’t get it, but I still love you. Sorry.”

Others disagree, however, and the way the first big decisions of the Lisbon treaty are being handled is coming in for much criticism. Senior British officials, who do not expect Blair to get the job but have not abandoned all hope, describe the process as “shambolic”.

On Monday night in Brussels, the Polish foreign minister, Radek Sikorski, told EU foreign policy chiefs that the union was blowing an opportunity “to operate with transparency and a readiness to bring the citizens of Europe closer to EU affairs”. The decisions “should be as transparent and democratic as possible”.

Other newish EU members from eastern Europe are also trying to undermine the culture of stitch-ups and horse-trading surrounding the appointment of the council president and also of Europe’s new or high representative for foreign and security policy, or foreign minister.

Estonia’s president, Thomas Hendrik Ilves, contradicted Reinfeldt by openly declaring he was a contender. Vaira Vike-Freiberga, Latvia’s former president, also put her name forward and likened the decision-taking to the workings of Soviet politburos.

“This is the end of the Eurocracy doing it like this, electing one of their own in this manner. I don’t think they’ll be able to get away with this ever again,” said Denis MacShane, the Labour MP and former Europe minister.

Reinfeldt wants to table only one candidate for each of the two posts under discussion. But the Poles urged that a shortlist of foreign ministerial contenders be interviewed before the appointment is made. Amid the secrecy, there is much confusion. “I wouldn’t say it’s a complete mess, but there’s no agreement still,” admitted Cecilia Malmström, Sweden’s Europe minister.

This lack of consensus is encouraging British hopes that Blair could still pull it off against the odds. But his chances look slim. “Too much has happened, too many people can’t stand him,” said Charles Grant, director of the Centre for European Reform thinktank.

Van Rompuy, by contrast, has upset no one in less than a year as Belgian prime minister. He is regarded as the common Franco-German candidate and Gordon Brown also rates and likes him.

The president and foreign minister jobs are the products of the Lisbon treaty, the reform blueprint just ratified, which is supposed to make the EU more coherent and let it speak to the rest of the world with one voice. It is also, supporters endlessly declare, supposed to make the EU more “democratic and transparent”. While there is little to fit those criteria in the way the two jobs are being decided, the European elite has boxed itself into a corner, limiting its room for manoeuvre.

The president is supposed to come from the centre-right, while the foreign minister belongs to the centre-left. If one is from a big country, the other should be from a small country. Gender balance? Voices are being raised that one of the jobs should go to a woman. There is little talk of talent or merit.

David Miliband, the foreign secretary, was the frontrunner for foreign minister and fitted the bill. The French and Germans would have supported him. Ten days ago at a Fabian Society meeting in London, though, Miliband emerged seething with anger from a meeting with Poul Nyrup Rasmussen, the Danish head of the European socialists, who told him that they would never support Blair for president. Miliband told Rasmussen he did not want the job.

Rasmussen and his colleagues have now nominated the former Italian prime minister and foreign minister Massimo D’Alema for the foreign minister role. But another former Italian prime minister said D’Alema would not be able to chair a meeting in English. His politics are criticised by some as too anti-American and anti-Israeli. His support base looks feeble.

European governments have spent eight exhausting years labouring to get the Lisbon treaty up and running. Now that they finally have it, their problem is agreeing what to do with it.  Read more at The Guardian

Julie’s blog on the woman who has declared asking the men to do the same: “Listen, boys”

ETCETERA

A famous school – Fettes College, Edinburgh.

Tony’s old school has gone to pot. Here and here.

Their most famous former pupil – Tony Blair.

Picture above from The Mail – Fettes College’s most famous former student – Blair the basketball player.

“Master! master! An intruder has infiltrated the base!”
“How in the Fuhrer’ssh Hell did he do that?”
“He…ummm…came in through the fire exit.”
“Damn thish Health and Shafety nanny shhhtate! I oughtta club them and eat their bonesh!”
Igor shrinks and turns to leave, but turns to stone with a raised hand from his Master, who spins his throne around to face him.
“Listen carefully Igor. I want this interminably antagonishtic interlocutor brought to me at oncshe!” He spits, with a comical lisp.
“Yes Master!”
The Master reclines. A malevolent smirk sweeps across his countenance as he gently strokes his white pussy cat.
A series of buttons pushed in the correct order and a tiny screen rises in front of him, broadcasting CCTV footage of the intruder putting up a futile fight against the hunched mutant minions smothering him. Within minutes, the door to the Imperial cave is opened, and his nemesis is seated, bound and beaten.
“Well, Agent Straw, ssshhho good to shee you again. Why came you unbidden to my shubterranean kingdom?”
Bloodied and spiteful, Straw spits vitriol.
“You’ll never get away with this Griffin! You and your motley group of misfits will never infect us with your poison!”
Griffin’s milky eye fixes on his accuser. It sends a shiver down Straw’s spine.
“That’s where you’re wrong my mishinformed friend. You kill me and there’s a thoushand more to take my place. Our name ish Legion, for we are many.”
Straw wipes the spittle off of his face.
“Yesh yesh, I’m like a worm. You cut my head off and I become two. Like a cockroacshh, even a nuclear war can’t finisssh me off!”
Straw looks utterly bemused.
“Am I getting thrrrrough to you yet? Hmmm? You sad weedy little milky white liberal pussshhhhy??
Straw struggles for words.
“I…you…wait…milky white? What?”
“IGOR!”
Igor scuttles in and sticks two fingers up at Master. Griffin shakes his head.
“How many times Igor? You salute with all fingers facing up. Palm down, pointing up.”
“Yes Master.”
“Never mind. Jusssht take Agent Shhhtraw here to the re-education cssshentre.”
“Yes master!”
Igor drags a completely bamboozled Straw out of the cave. Griffin cackles slyly to himself, stroking his pussy harder now.
“Are you ready for shhhhome real Britissssh beef Churchill Enoch Powell? Mmm yesssh you are. Good men fought and died for this beef.”

Straw is strapped into a cold chair by two disfigured trolls. Despite his struggles, he is subdued, and the two monstrosities leave. Griffin strolls in with the aid of his red cane.
“Good evening Misssshter Shhhtraw.”
“Good God man, who are these fiends you have working for you? What in the world have you done to them?”
“Oh don’t mind thosssshhe little cssshhaps, they jusssht don’t shheee mucsssh of the shhhhun. Now. To the real reassshon I brought you here.”
“You’ve gone mad Griffin! You’ll never get away with this! We in Britain are tolerant of difference and we will never be too full! You say seventy million? I say: not enough!”
Griffin cackles to himself. After mopping the drool from his shirt, he flicks a switch, prompting a large projection to appear on the wall facing them.
“I think you might find thisssh enlightening my dear Shhhtraw. But first…”
Griffin reaches into his pocket and lunges at Agent Straw’s face. After a brief struggle and scream, Griffin backs away, leaving Straw’s eyelids propped open with matchsticks.
“What are you doing? Let me go!”
“It’s been nice knowing you Misssshter Shhhtraw. Sshhheee you when you come over to the dark side!”
Griffin’s milky eye penetrates deep into Straw’s soul. He presses another button before turning off the lights.
“Enjoy!”
Griffin slips away. The projection flickers to life.

A beautiful woman undresses, and rolls around on white sheets. She hugs a white pillow close to her body.

A man drowns in tar.

Young children in white footsy pyjamas laugh and eat scores of white marshmallows.

A man walks across his kitchen until the lights suddenly go out. Sounds of crashing and cursing are heard.

A beaming bride walks up the aisle in her resplendent dress.

A disconsolate man collapses in tears at a funeral.

Nobody hears Agent Straw’s screams.

Da. Vedeţi bine. Televizorul dăunează grav sănătăţii. Cum am ajuns la această concluzie?
Vă uitaţi la filme. Sunt sigură. Şi eu mă uit. Sunt filme în care dragostea e perfectă. Ea merge pe stradă senină, brusc se trânteşte de un făt-frumos, ohii le strălucesc amândurora, soarele îi luminează speciaell pe ei (sau reflectoarele, cum vreţi). Şi totu-i bun şi frumos. Şi acum, în zilele noastre, vezi fete care ies tot mai des pe stradă, că dee aşa au văzut în filme, şi se trântesc de băiatul care le place. Dacă vede că nu le merge, se mai trântesc o dată. Poate, poate. Sau vezi scenă de dragoste perfectă, ea adoarme zâmbind în braţele lui şi dimineaţa dragii mei, se trezeşte mai aranjată ca niciodată, părul perfect, faţă perfectă şi mai au chef de nu ştiu câte mii de pupături, că deee, nu-i ”pute” gura. Departe de realitate dragii mei. Mulţi în ziua de azi aşa aşteaptă să şi fie. DEPARTE! Ea se trezeşte cu părul vâlvoi, cu faţa umflată, cu puchi pe la ochi şi el… amărâtul de el, părul lui e ca o căpiţă de fân proaspăt răsturnată. Asta e realitatea.
Te uiţi la Bruce Lee, Jackie Chan şi la James Bond, şi încerci multe lucruri de-ale lor în viaţa reală. Mergi pe stradă umflat de parcă ai înghiţit 3 kg de heliu, ai pălărie cu boruri pe care o mai ridici cu vârful degetelor şi te prezinţi lumii ca : ”X-ulescu. Gheorghe X-ulescu.” Dar când e vorba să se ia cineva de tine, te învârţi ca nuca în ceaun.
Te uiţi la ”Blonda de la drept” şi crezi că dacă ea a reuşit, poţi şi tu. Aşa că te îmbraci toată în roz, mesteci gumă, vizitezi zilnic coaforul, ţii geanta pe mâna care parcă e scrântită şi mergi şi-ti dai admiterea la drept. Wake up! Eşti tu blondă oxigenată, cu sânii mari şi ai o pasiune aparte pentru roz, dar… alta e realitatea fetiţo!
Ce ar fi să ieşim de sub lumina reflectoarelor care ne orbeşte şi să realizăm adevărul? Nu v-aţi săturat să trăiţi o viaţă a actorilor? Nu v-aţi săturat să vă jucaţi prost rolul? Spre deosebire de voi, actorii sunt plătiţi!

Equipment from Neil Vessey (Storage Tanks) Ltd was used in the James Bond film, ‘Goldeneye’.

Much of the filming was done in Hertfordshire and the large capacity cylindrical storage tanks used to simulate a Russian nerve gas plant in the story were supplied by Neil Vessey.

The James Bond order came after the art director of the film production company saw one of the North Lincolnshire Company’s national advertisements and contacted it about the tanks. Neil Vessey subsequently supplied six 20,000 gallon capacity storage tanks.

Mr Vessey, himself a film fan, said this was the most unusual use that had ever been made of his tanks. He said “If the film is around as long as the old James Bond films our storage tanks will be on view for the next 30 years or so”.

If you are interested in storage tank hire for any purpose, please visit our associate company website.