Não foi o melhor retorno do Indy, na minha modesta opinião, mas rendeu uma ou outra coisa boa, como essa frase, dita pelo professor Dean Charles Stanforth, interpretado pelo pai da Bridget, Jim Broadbent.

We seem to have reached the age where life stops giving us things and starts taking them away.

E o que você achou do último Indiana Jones?

Já viu a versão Lego?

Il professor Jones è sulle tracce di un amuleto d’oro custodito in una caverna nella impenetrabile giungla del Perù; riuscito ad identificare il luogo dove è nascosto, Indiana (questo il nome del Professore) Jones, dopo aver superato trappole mortali si vede soffiare il prezioso reperto dal professor Belloq, che riesce a sottrarglielo grazie all’iuto di una tribù locale. Jones riesce per miracolo a sfuggire ai letali indios e rientra al Marshall College di New Britain (Connecticut), dove riprende l’insegnamento.

Un giorno arrivano, nel College, due agenti della sicurezza, che rivelano al professor Jones che i nazisti (siamo nel 1936) sono ormai vicinissimi al recupero dell’Arca dell’Alleanza, uno dei manufatti più ricercati al mondo, il poto nel quale vennero conservati i frammenti delle tavole della legge, i dieci comandamenti, scritti dal dito di Dio e affidati a  Mosè. L’unico tassello mancante ai nazisti è l’amuleto di Ra, custodito dall’amico di Indiana Jones Abner Ravenwood, che risulta disperso tra le montagne del Nepal.

L’oggetto, un disco forato, permetterebbe di individuare, una volta posizionato su un bastone cerimoniale, l’esatta ubicazione dell’Arca, custodita nella sala delle anime della perduta città di Tanis, in Egitto.
Giunto in Nepal, Jones incotra Marion, figlia di Abner Ravenwood, sua ex fidanzata, poco propensa a cedergli il medaglione; ma l’arrivo dei nazisti fa precipitare la situazione e i due fuggono portandosi dietro il prezioso reperto. L’azione si sposta quindi in Egitto, dove Jones scopre che Belloq, al soldo dei nazisti, è riuscito ad individuare Tanis, anche se non conosce l’esatta posizione del pozzo delle anime.

Dopo una serie incredibile di colpi di scena, Jones trova l’Arca, che però viene requisita dai nazisti, e traportata in un’isola dove Belloq, con un complesso cerimoniale, provvederà ad aprirla. Avventurosamente, Indiana Jones arriva anche lui sull’isola, ma viene fatto prigioniero con Marion, legato con la donna ad un palo e costretto ad assistere al trionfo del suo rivale. Che però si rivela una trappola mortale: all’interno dell’Arca c’è solo polvere, e sopratutto c’è una forza soprannaturale, che si sprigiona e distrugge Belloq e i suoi soldati. Jones e Marion così ritornano a Washington, dove consegnano l’Arca nelle mani dell’Intelligence, che nega loro però il diritto di esaminarla: il prezioso reperto finirà in un enorme deposito.

Indiana Jones e i predatori dell’arca perduta (titolo definitivo dato dal regista al film) è più che un film, il manifesto programmatico del film d’avventura: azione, ritmo incalzante, suspence, colpi di scena a raffica, cambio veloce di inquadrature, effetti speciali. Il tutto condito dal perfetto phisique du role di Harrison Ford, assolutamente straordinario nelle vesti del professore/archeologo/avventuriero

Un film molto bello, che lascia con il fiato sospeso per i continui capovolgimenti a cui si assiste: e come già detto una parte importante l’ha avuta Ford, che per fortuna di Spielberg, il regista, e di george Lucas, il re Mida produttore del film, ebbe la parte dopo che Tom Sellek fu costretto a rinunciarvi.

Una fortuna davvero, perchè non oso pensare a come il morbido e inespressivo Sellek avrebbe reso l’ironia, la simpatia, di Indiana Jones, personaggio che non basa la sua forza su una sola dote specifica, ma sulla summa derivata dalla sua abilità, dalla sua cultura e perchè no, su quell’aria un tantino da faccia di bronzo che lo contradistingue.
Spielberg, reduce dal trionfo di Incontri ravvicinati del 3° tipo e dal tonfo clamoroso di 1941 allarme ad Hollywood dirige, nel 1981, il film che rappresenta per lui il ritorno non solo al tanto amato film d’avventure, ma anche una patente di ritrovata credibilità, che gli permetterà di metter mano a progetti ambiziosi, come Et e sopratutto Il colore viola.

Grazie ad una sapiente scelta delle location, al ritmo serato, al cat perfetto, Spielberg ottiene un risultato finale probabilmente al di sopra delle più rosse speranze della produzione, che vide centuplicati i risulati economici investiti: nella sola stagione 1981 il film incassò oltre 220 milioni di dollari,e a tutt’oggi è uno dei film più redditizi di tutti i tempi.

Indiana Jones, i predatori dell’arca perduta, un film di Steven Spielberg. Con Harrison Ford, Karen Allen, John Rhys-Davies, Alfred Molina, Paul Freeman. Ronald Lacey, Denholm Elliott, Wolf Kahler
Titolo originale Raiders of the Lost Ark. Avventura, durata 115 min. – USA 1981.

!!!

Harrison Ford: Indiana Jones
Karen Allen: Marion Ravenwood
Paul Freeman: Rene Belloq
Ronald Lacey: Toht
John Rhys-Davies: Sallah
Denholm Elliott: Dott. Marcus Brody
Alfred Molina: Satipo
Wolf Kahler: Col. Dietrich
Don Fellows: Col. Musgrove
William Hootkins: Magg. Eaton
Fred Sorenson: Jock
Sonny Caldinez: Mean Mongolian
Tutte Lemkow: Imam
Souad Messaoudi: Fayah
George Harris: Katanga

Michele Gammino: Indiana Jones
Paila Pavese: Marion Ravenwood
Sandro Iovino: Rene Belloq
Sergio Fiorentini: Toht
Renato Mori: Sallah
Sergio Rossi: Dott. Marcus Brody
Mauro Gravina: Satipo
Gianfranco Bellini: Col. Musgrove
Gianni Marzocchi: Magg. Eaton

Regia:     Steven Spielberg
Soggetto:     George Lucas e Philip Kaufman
Sceneggiatura:     Lawrence Kasdan
Produttore:     Frank Marshall
Produttore esecutivo:     George Lucas e Howard Kazanjian
Fotografia:     Douglas Slocombe
Montaggio:     Michael Kahn e George Lucas (non accreditato)
Effetti speciali:     Industrial Light & Magic
Musiche:     John Williams
Scenografia:     Norman Reynolds

South Shields Conservative Candidate plugs new website and social agenda

myconservatives.com

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In questi giorni (e per tutto ottobre) è possibile vedere o rivedere sulla tv satellitare l’intera saga di uno dei maggiori miti del nostro tempo.

1981: Raiders of the Lost Ark di Steven Spielberg

Uno dei più grandi successi commerciali della cinematografia hollywoodiana, entusiasmo da parte del pubblico di ogni dove.

“Il ritorno della grande avventura, recita la locandina del film. E in effetti, I predatori dell’arca perduta ha rivitalizzato un genere che sembrava ormai morto e sepolto” (Alberto Cassani). E Luca Vespier aggiunge: “ancora oggi è da considerare il miglior esempio di film d’avventura”.

Come nota giustamente “La Stampa”, questo lavoro è la prova che “film giocattolo non vuol dire film volgare o film spazzatura”. Esotismo, misticismo, comics, thriller, horror, avventura… miscelati talmente bene da creare un prodotto originale e innovativo, brillante e imprevedibile, non di rado ingegnoso… e il tutto al servizio di un puro e genuino godimento dalla fantasia sbrigliata quanto mai. Una giostra pirotecnica che colpisce la nostra immaginazione coinvolgendoci e divertendoci come raramente accade, risvegliando il fanciullo che è in noi, stupendoci ed emozionandoci per l’intero racconto.

George Lucas alla produzione e al soggetto, Lawrence Kasdan alla sceneggiatura, Steven Spielberg alla regia,  John Williams alle musiche (“un trust di cervelloni” li definiva Tullio Kezich) superano se stessi in questo I predatori dell’arca perduta, “probabilmente il più famoso blockbuster della cinematografia moderna”, capofila di una delle più longeve e fortunate serie cinematografiche, insuperabile per spettacolarità arguzia ironia e gusto del paradosso.

Ritmo incalzante e narrazione oltremodo avvincente, sintesi perfetta di realtà-fantasia e amalgama stupefacente di religione-favola, caratterizzano un film – inverosimile ma al contempo credibile- che “presentato in Sala Grande a Venezia nel 1981, eccitando i cinefili onnivori e scandalizzando i puristi,  tocca una delle vette del cinema d’avventura, tra perfette scene d’azione e dialoghi curati in cui si sente la nostalgia verso le vecchie buone sceneggiature di decenni prima” (Gabriele Capolino). Alla sua uscita il film non entusiasmò molto la critica italiana, salvo poi ricredersi: ieri Il Corriere della Sera scriveva “Se «Boh»  è il titolo di un’opera di Moravia, «boh» potrà essere, speriamo senza scandalo, anche il nostro commento al successo fragoroso che questo film sta ottenendo negli Stati Uniti, e all’entusiasmo che all’ultima mostra di Venezia ha suscitato fra critici giovani. Ci riesce infatti difficile capire come possa procurare un tale godimento da meritarsi code ai botteghini”, oggi la stessa testata afferma “C’è di tutto in questo meraviglioso giocattolone adatto ai bambini di tutte le età; c’è la materia per un serial TV in 12 puntate, condensata in meno di 2 ore con vertiginosa felicità… E’ pure un vivace esempio di metacinema (riflessione sul cinema, demistificazione dei generi e loro riabilitazione), messo in immagini con competenza professionale, sapienza tecnologica, allegra sfacciataggine”.

Il film fece di Harrison Ford un superdivo e dopo Guerre stellari gli aprirà la strada alla collaborazione con celebrati registi (Ridley Scott, Peter Weir, Roman Polanski, Alan J. Pakula, Sydney Pollack, Mike Nichols, Wolfang Petersen, Kathryn Bigelow, Robert Zemeckis…).

p.s.

Indiana Jones doveva essere interpretato da Tom Selleck, il quale rifiutò la parte in quanto impegnato nella serial-tv Magnum P.I. Harrison Ford è stato recentemente inserito dalla rivista Empire nella top 100 delle star più sexy del cinema. Nel 1998 la rivista People lo ha decretato uomo più sexy tra quelli ancora in vita.

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1984: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom di Steven Spielberg

E’ il prequel del primo episodio della saga.

Giusto quanto scrive Giovanni Grazzini: “Si possono nel contempo venerare Bach e i Beatles, Mozart e i Rolling Stones, non si vede perché si debba negare anche a professori, banchieri e magi, strati il diritto di dare ascolto all’eterno fanciullo che – ce lo disse il poeta – è in tutti noi, sempre disposto alla meraviglia, al brivido e alla lacrima. Lucas & Spielberg non chiedono a nessuno di entrare nello stesso capitolo della storia del cinema che già ospita Rossellini, Antonioni o Bergman. Pretendono di piacere ai bambini, e agli adulti che non si vergognano di tornare per due ore bambini, con le loro storie impossibili, iperboliche e paradossali, che i ragazzi bevono con gli occhi stringendosi alla mamma, e nelle quali i vecchietti leggono la parodia di mille racconti d’orrore e d’avventura”.

Nel secondo episodio della serie (che narra fatti accaduti precedentemente al primo) ritroviamo l’immaginazione, l’effusione di effetti speciali, il ritmo mozzafiato, le immagini fantasiose, i continui colpi di scena, le peripezie più disparate e simpaticamente inverosimili de I predatori de l’arca perduta. Vi è forse qualche sadismo in più e un tono maggiormente cupo, più accesa inoltre è la volontà di sbalordire (lo sceneggiatore è cambiato).

Forse meno compatto e spiritoso del primo, forse più grossolano e fumettistico,  Indiana Jones e il tempio maledetto consente comunque due ore di puro divertimento. L’ironia non manca, le trovate sono sempre massimamente spettacolari, le ambientazioni esotiche sempre belle, le avventure sempre maggiormente incredibili e sempre più sopra le righe: ineliminabile però l’impressione che il film brilli di luce riflessa dal primo…

Bello l’omaggio al musical degli anni 30 e ottima l’idea di fare di un bambino il coprotagonista.

Sostanzialmente d’accordo con quanto scrive nel suo blog Cinedrome: “Considerato da molti l’anello debole della saga di Indiana Jones per il suo essere palesemente “fracassone” e spiccatamente kitsch in alcune scelte di regia e sceneggiatura, è una sorta di omaggio infantile e sincero al cinema (ma soprattutto al fumetto) americano d’avventura anni ’30, con le sue sfumature simpaticamente truculente e vagamente horror adatte a bambini di tutte le età”.

p.s.

Indiana Jones e il tempio maledetto è l’unico film della tetralogia in cui la voce italiana di Harrison Ford non è di Michele Gammino ma di Luigi La Monica. E’ anche l’unico che non presenta Indiana Jones come professore universitario.

Da Wikipedia: “Il successo dei suoi film portò il Guinness Book of Records 2001 a citare Ford come l’attore più ricco del mondo… e gli incassi complessivi al botteghino dei film di Harrison Ford ammontano sinora a 13,8 miliardi di dollari, il risultato più alto di ogni altro attore nella storia del cinema”.

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1989: Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade di Steven Spielberg

Critiche controverse per il terzo episodio della serie: IlMorandini, “il film è piuttosto tetro, truculento e pesante nella sua inclinazione al misticismo, ma c’è l’accoppiata Connery-Ford: i loro duetti danno l’acqua della vita, e dello spasso”; La Stampa, “il film è molto dinamico, ricco di allusioni cinematografiche e di riferimenti storici, tecnicamente perfetto nell’uso sapiente dei trucchi”.

Tendo ad essere d’accordo con il secondo giudizio, concordando pienamente altresì sulla felicità dell’accoppiata Connery-Ford… quanto di meglio il grande schermo ci abbia offerto negli ultimi tempi: quando i due sono insieme in scena, il resto passa in secondo ordine. La peculiarietà de Indiana Jones e l’ultima crociata è nella loro compresenza che rende questo episodio diverso da tutti gli altri e ne fa un gioiello di freschezza umorismo arguzia ironia intelligenza…

Qualitativamente, questo e il primo sono i migliori “Indiana Jones” dell’intera tetralogia: la spettacolarità non è a discapito della narrazione, lo script non è schiavo degli effetti speciali, il gusto per la ricerca è mostrato al suo meglio.

Le ambientazioni sono particolarmente belle e suggestive, i diversi personaggi più approfonditi del solito, il ritmo è straordinario, il racconto è emozionante. Esempio perfetto di mix tra fantascienza e storia, fantasy e archeologia, mitologia e fiaba, azione e mistero, Indiana Jones e l’ultima crociata si può ritenere probabilmente il film d’avventura per antonomasia.

Il film va visto anche perché ci spiega come Indy sia cresciuto e sia potuto diventare quale noi lo conosciamo.

Concordo pienamente con quanto hanno scritto Massimo Bertarelli e Bilbo Baggins. Bertarelli: “Esemplare esempio di cinema per il cinema, senza nessun altro sottinteso al di fuori del divertimento di chi guarda. E’ una girandola continua di strabilianti trovate e di avventure a rotta di collo: treni o cammelli, carri armati o motoscafi, ogni mezzo è buono per sfuggire ai cattivi e lasciar sfogare la fantasia. Grande Spielberg, come (quasi) sempre. E quando il troppo è troppo una secchiata d’ironia rimette le cose a posto. Se Harrison Ford è bravo, il perfettamente conservato Sean Connery un fenomeno”. Baggins: “Indiana Jones e l’ultima crociata ha solo un piccolo difetto: non essere il primo della serie, e non poter quindi fregiarsi di capostipite della saga, significando per la Storia del Cinema quello che nella realtà ha rappresentato il film del 1981. Per il resto, supera di gran lunga gli altri episodi. Come ricchezza narrativa, senso del ritmo, scrittura cinematografica e alchimia degli attori, senza dimenticare una realizzazione tecnica intelligente che fa uso dell’effetto digitale solo quando strettamente necessario ai fini della storia, la pellicola rimane il vertice assoluto raggiunto dall’avventura cinematografica”.

p.s.

Spielberg e Lucas più volte hanno dichiarato che senza James Bond, Indy non sarebbe probabilmente mai esistito.

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2008: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of Crystal Skull di Steven Spielberg

Grande attesa (20 anni!). Grande delusione per i fan di Indiana Jones.

Indiana Jones e il Regno del teschio di cristallo piacerà a qualche ragazzo non ancora stanco dei tanti blockbuster, dei film “fracassoni” che vedono trionfare la tecnologia ma latitare le idee, ma chi ha un minimo di pretese e soprattutto chi si è (giustamente) entusiasmato con gli episodi precedenti della serie non potrà che rammaricarsi e inveire contro Lucas e Spielberg che hanno tradito i loro ammiratori e il loro eroe.
Una icona, un mito per milioni di spettatori di tutto il mondo ridotto quasi a far da comparsa tra mille e ripetuti effettoni (spesso fini a se stessi e riempitivi) senza il sogno la fantasia la favola che avevano caratterizzato in passato il personaggio: latita lo spirito avventuriero, domina la tecnica digitale.
Poca ironia, minima suspense, sequenze lunghissime e stancanti di inseguimenti e duelli, personaggi privi di spessore e di credibilità. Si aggiunga che il racconto vero e proprio inizia dopo una ventina di minuti completamente inutili (se non per mostrare la potenza della Industrial Light and Magic, l’industria degli effetti speciali creata da George Lucas), che il personaggio di Cate Blanchett è particolarmente fastidioso col suo essere al contempo eccessivamente ridicolo e pesante, che qualche sequenza di puro stile horror ci poteva essere risparmiata, che riprendere il tema dei Russi cattivi e sanguinari non è il massimo dell’originalità.

Harrison Ford avrebbe dovuto giocare di più sulla sua età… Dopo pochi minuti che il film è iniziato “si esibisce in trovate mirabolanti e improbabili, decisamente sopra le righe anche per il suo personaggio”, senza alcuna autoironia, coadiuvato da un Shia LaBeouf, giovane exstudente che inspiegabilmente sembra allievo di Tarzan o di Rambo.

Ha scritto giustamente Rudy Gonzo: “…salviamo la nostra fantasia da chi ci ha aiutato a svilupparla, salviamo i personaggi dai loro autori ormai non più all’altezza, salviamo il cinema dai videogiochi, salviamo il bambino che c’è in noi dalla playstationizzazione dell’immaginario”.

p.s.

Il film ha riscosso un notevole successo al Festival di Cannes, tuttavia ha vinto un Razzie Award come peggior sequel.

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nota:

vedi i generi cinematografici

You want to talk to God? Let’s go see him together, I’ve got nothing better to do.

– Indiana

Don’t hate me, but I have never seen the first installment in the Indiana Jones quadrilogy in its entirety. I have seen the classic scenes of the giant boulder, the room filled with the snakes and the melting Nazis. This is the first time that I saw Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. I am so glad that I did. It’s #18 of the Top 25o Films of All Time on IMDb.

I am more of a Temple of Doom person. Some people don’t like that flick. I enjoy that it was campy and completely implausible.

In 1936, the famous archaeologist, Dr. Jones (Harrison Ford) is sent out on a mission to recover the Ark of the Covenant that once contained the Ten Commandants. He has to get it before Hitler and the Third Reich gain trouble control of it and have his army become invincible.

The first stop in Jones’ trip is Nepal where he meets an old love interest of his, Marion (Karen Allen). He tries to regain of the pieces of a magical staff that would guide the way to find the ark.

During the time there, a mysterious man in a black trench, Toht (Ronald Lacey) also seeks the artifact in Marion’s possession. There is a struggle. The duo escapes but not for long.

Hearing that the ark was moved to Cairo, they meet up with a famous digger, Sallah (John Rhys-Davies) to help with the effort.

The Nazis are not far behind in their quest to find the Ark with Jones’ French counterpart Bellroq (Paul Freeman), the Nazi officer, Colonel Dietrich (Wolf Kahler) and Toht.

It’s common knowledge by now it that producers wanted Tom Selleck in the role of Dr. Jones. I can only imagine about Selleck in the movie. It would have been cool if you wasn’t working on Magnum PI at the time. Harrison Ford is not a bad choice for Indy. He is damn sexy in the movie. You gotta love a man that can handle a whip. Mmm-hmm.

The action sequences and the jokes in the movie were great. The ending of the movie was anti-climatic and borderline silly, but other than that, a good time all around.

Judgment: A worthy installment in the Indiana Jones mythology.

Rating: ****1/2

Harrison Ford, 67 is ready for another adventure as Indiana Jones only a year after one of history’s most successful film franchises was revived – and that the next chapter is already well on its way. The question is do we want to see another chapter after the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (check out the LFF review)

“The story for the new Indiana Jones is in the process of taking form,” Ford told France’s Le Figaro. “Steven Spielberg, George Lucas and myself are agreed on what the fifth adventure will concern, and George is actively at work. If the script is good, I’ll be very happy to put the costume on again.”

According to Tout Le Cine, Ford told the assembled press at Deauville that he, George Lucas and Steven Spielberg have agreed on the item Indy will be after for the next adventure.

Then Karen Allen mentioned, at the recent Dragon Con, that a new Indy film would be out in 2012.

Well dear reader what are your thoughts on another Indiana Jones film?

Do you want to see it? Should Shia be allowed near another one? What should be in and what shouldn’t be seen anywhere near it? Will Indy have developed cancer from being so close to a nuclear explosion?

Source: /Film

When I worked in Danny’s dirty sexy video store I met an interesting array of creeps, neanderthals, celebrities, ne’er do wells and psychos. All of them were white and male, its no surprise really when you think about it. There was one exception though. When you are stuck behind a counter earning tax free dodgy money and situated slap bam in the middle of Soho you become a magnet of sorts for all types of peddlers. Fagans and Artful Dodgers would try and sell me all manner of things that had just walked out of Virgin/HMV for just a few quid. If I had been in the market for Led Zep box sets,Phil Collins albums or Gun’s’roses anthologies I could have been a very happy man, at one stage I was offered a state of the art mountain bike that was hotter than hell for the price of a few packets of ciggies. I turned it down because I didn’t want to cycle all the way to Bound’s Green with no lights and a head that was higher than Ben Nevis. My favourite vendor was Ivor the Jamaican. He had a very peculiar way of talking and was exceedingly fond of the word “safe” but he made it sound more like ’seeaafff’ and he wasn’t Welsh either. It was not uncommon to finish a days work and be broke after buying a quarter of this, a wrap of that, some cds and a bottle of booze.

The perverts who came in used to try and impress me with their knowledge of porn abbreviations whilst enquirering after certain select titles were a minor irritation but worth the graft. After a while I could decypher their requests and reply in code with added rhyming slang. A talent that I should have been able to put on a resume but outside of the sex biz it wouldn’t have been appreciated in the slightest. I only use this ability when I am watching old 70’s films and reading London pulp noir books. I was propositioned by queers of all sorts many times but always declined their generous offers under much duress to do otherwise. They were a dead give away, as you could smell there freshly scrubbed and cologned fagness a full 10 seconds before they walked into the shop such was their passion for personal but not moral hygiene. The other group of avoidables were the drug addled bikie boys and their deceptively lethal women which were to be avoided at all costs. They were illiterate, ignorant and poisonous to the extreme. The only means of distraction available to me in the shop, apart from europorn and the toilet, was MTV. Non fucking stop MTV, in the days when it was MTV and not some giant TV billboard for reality shows and beach parties . Green day were really big then. I don’t like Green day, never have.
After 3 months of porn peddling it was time for me to blow the joint and hit the airport for New York and the next leg of my adventure.

I had at this time been in contact with the one and only Ira Cohen in Manhattan.

Boom Shanka1

If I was to tell you what he has done you would not believe me, so check out some of these sites, you will not be disappointed I promise; wiki, images, poetry, interview . All links will open in a new tab. The next step was to book the cheapest flight I could find and get my ass to the big apple. I flew Air India from Heathrow to JFK some time around the end of May ‘94 and was due to be met at the airport by one Guava French. A slight detour here will do no harm to the thread I’m on and round out the experience for you the reader. Round about the same time as I was born in Kathmandu there was another child born.

Her name was Guava and her mother was the now sadly departed Tory French. Tory had been the inspiration for Karen Allen’s character Marion in the Indiana Jones flick The Raiders Lost Ark(1981). If memory serves me correctly we first meet Marion in some Himalayan mountain bar skulling shots to beat the boys around the time of WWII. Obviously Tory was not around in those days as she would not yet have been born(movie license) but her prowess at drinking was legendary and she had spent years and her inheritance traveling around Afghanistan and the sub continent in general. This is where she learnt to speak pashtu and mix in with the locals.

Always smiling.

Her trademark was to knock back a shot or two and then yell out some pashtu word in celebration which Marion is seen and heard to do in the film. Its all a bit tenuous but true none the less. Anyway, she gave birth to a girl, Guava, a week or so after or before I was delivered and as such we were kindred spirits. The funny thing is that everyone was so ripped off their heads on charris and temple balls that they couldn’t remember her date of birth. My birthdate was taken as the benchdate if you like. Such an auspicious start for Guava did not bode well for our meeting at JFK. I had explained to her over the phone that I was arriving at JFK, New York and she had said that she would be more than happy to come and meet me there. I arrived and she didn’t. She thought I had said Newark airport in New Jersey.

Luckily I had an address for Ira Cohen in Manhattan and set about making my merry way there. Ira was going to be at a poetry reading in a book shop in downtown Little Vietnam that evening so I had no choice but to attend. I normally have a healthy aversion to such hippiefests but on this occasion I had no choice. After a pretty uneventful subway journey and walking a few km’s in the New York humidity with all my baggage in tow I entered the store not sure what to expect or even if I would recognise Ira, for the last time I met him I would have been no higher than a Jack Russel.

I made my way to the back of the store where murmurings of verse could be heard emanating from a dreaded and tie died circle of hipsters and beatniks.

There stood a gray dreaded middle aged man with a strong eastern European accent wearing a hideous tie dye shirt, reciting some his inspirational poetry to the crowd of gathered contempories;

“Oh, what is this life I live?

What are you oh woman?

You’re pussy smells like

A freshly opened tin of Anchovies,

And I am not hungry for Love.”

I did my best to blend in with the crowd but couldn’t help standing out in my black leather biker jacket, draw string linen pants, long pony tail, jet lagged eyes and about 40 kgs of baggage. I was sweating profusely. I made eye contact with somebody who might have been Ira. He made eye contact with somebody who might have been me.

Listing us as potential interpreters (9)

Interpreters = definition

listing us = clue = anagram

potential = clue

potential tells us that something is awry and one should have a look and see what word or words have potential to change into the answer.

listing us= linguists= interpreters.

Last night I watched “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull”, sorry but while I was entertained I was not impressed, this is the fourth Indy movie and its been a few years (19 or 20 I think) since the making of the last one. Now I don’t know whether I’m simply remembering the first three through extremely rosy glasses, whether times have just changed so much that we aren’t as easily entertained by escapist movie nonsense nowadays or whether this is just simply an inferior product but I don’t think its nearly as good as its predecessors.

It starred of course Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones, don’t really believe we would accept anyone else in the role to be honest, he was good, he usually is, Karen Allen returned to her role from the original (Marion Ravenwood), Shia LaBeouf plays “Mutt” her son, John Hurt is “Professor OX Oxley”, Jim Broadbent makes an appearance as the Dean of the university, these are the goodies. Cate Blanchett is an unconvincing baddie, not very threatening, who has a host of “commie” henchmen doing her every bidding, Ray Winstone meanwhile is a character called “Mac” who it appears they couldn’t decide throughout the making of the film whether he was a goodie or a baddie.

LaBeouf was I thought damn poor in this, he was 2 dimensional and flat, not a likeable character played poorly in my opinion, Hurt was just wasted, all he had to do was act like an idiot and quote nonsensical lines for the most part, the Karen Allen part was more or less surplus to requirements, she only seemed there to make up the numbers. Blanchett meanwhile simply wasn’t frightening, I never once thought she was going to beat the good guys and Winstone’s character just changed sides too often, it was a little confusing deciding whether to like him or not although to be truthful his character wasn’t very likeable either.

Ok so the baddies in this are communists, we used to have Nazis’ as Indies enemies, I guess we did need a change but did they really need to reopen the cold war, and Indiana Jones with aliens, yes I know we got some guff in the end about them being inter dimensional beings but come on they were aliens, bit too X-Files like at times to be an Indy movie.

The stunts were even crazier and less believable than in the old movies (in which we somehow believed them, well kind of) and computer graphics made an only too obvious impact, various parts of the film like for instance the (unrealistic looking) scene with the swinging monkeys who for some strange reason decided to attack the baddies, the insane ant scene and Indy escaping a nuclear bomb explosion while hiding in a fridge in which he was thrown for miles away from the blast only to walk away were just too much, the script was also quite poor, well I thought so anyway.

So I guess I hated this movie then, well no, while I was disappointed by it (maybe I just expected too much) I was also, to a certain extent, entertained by it, it was fast paced and at times funny (sometimes when it wasn’t supposed to be I think), when you see it try not to compare it with the first three, it’ll come off worst, just put your brain into neutral and (completely) suspend any attempt at logical thought, oh and ignore the unlikeable characters and try not to expect too much of the script.

CRUISING av William Friedkin (1980)
Med Al Pacino, Paul Sorvino, Karen Allen, Richard Cox, Don Scardino, Joe Spinell, Jay Acovone, Randy Jurgensen

Härförleden skrev jag i recensionen av Scent of a Woman om den endimensionelle Al Pacino. Den vrålande tuffingen som antingen är skurk eller snut, men alltid Al Pacino. Han är snut i Cruising också men gör den rätt förbluffande helomvändningen att även spela bög. I filmen, alltså. Han arbetar under täckmantel som bög för att lösa en rad mord på bögar som ser ut ungefär som han. Och det verkligt förbluffande är att den italienskättade machoikonen Al Pacino inför ögonen på oss tittare förvandlas till övertygande bög. Inte så begåvat och inkännande som Sean Penn i Milk, men tillräckligt begåvat och inkännande för att man ska börja inse att den vrålande tuffingen Al Pacino som alltid bara spelar Al Pacino trots allt kan spela någon annan också. Möjligen för att hans roll då han arbetar under täckmantel i Cruising är så diametralt motsatt hans egen personlighet – genom att göra en helomvändning kan han så att säga utnyttja sin mycket endimensionella skådespelarförmåga till att tämligen övertygande gestalta en helt annan persona, genom att göra det med uppbringande av all sin ensidighet men med kraften inriktad på den personan. Kanske. Jag vet inte. Men jag vet att han går på ett helt annat sätt, talar annorlunda och använder ett kroppsspråk som gör att han framstår som mycket trovärdig bög.

Cruising utspelar sig bland läderbögar och redan under inspelningen drabbades filmen av så stor motvilja att grupper av bögar försökte sabotera arbetet när man spelade in på autentiska bögklubbar. Den är därför försedd med en brasklapp i början. Fast eftersom den handlar om läderbögar som dessutom är lagda åt S/M-hållet är det kanske inte så konstigt att den inte är representativ för bögvärlden i helhet och i själva verket är det inte ens särskilt intressant huruvida den är det eller inte. Hur många spelfilmer porträtterar i varje detalj verklighetstroget de föregivna miljöer där de utspelar sig? Omständigheter som rör både intrig och inspelningsförhållanden dikterar inte så sällan avsteg från verkligheten, vilket för det mesta inte är mycket att orda om – film är film, inte verklighet.

Fast å andra sidan kan man undra vilka omständigheter kring i alla fall intrigen som kan ha föreskrivit sådana avsteg den här gången, eftersom filmen på det planet inte på minsta vis lever upp till Al Pacinos skådespelarinsats. Det här är en skäligen enkel kriminalhistoria som mycket väl skulle kunna vara ett avsnitt i någon av de mindre begåvade deckarserierna på tv. Den där som sänds på tidiga tisdagkvällar i stället för på bästa sändningstid på lördagkvällen.

Och därför känns Cruising trots allt mycket ambivalent och inte fullt begriplig.

För givet den generande klichéfyllda kriminalintrigen, varför gjorde man sig allt besväret med att under protester och sabotageförsök låta filmen utspelas i läderbögvärlden? När det nu ändå inte i någon intressant mening påverkar intrig och tema, alltså?

Kör hårt,
Bellis

'Mr Monkey is worried about you Tory Boy, get help before it's too late'

If any of you have witnessed councillor David Potts, aka the King of Sleaze’s erratic behaviour over the past 10 months you can’t help but agree with this chimp, that Tory Boy has become mentally unstable.

Mr Monkey is seriously worried about Pudgy Face and reckons he’s lost the plot – apparently he’s even started going to church in anticipation of meeting his maker. Well this chimp doesn’t want to be responsible for pushing him over the edge.

Bloggers will have noticed that councillor Potts has been going downhill ever since he was de-selected by the Scottish Conservatives after Mr Monkey brought the King of Sleaze’s antics to the attention of blue rinse brigade in Edinburgh. He’s never recovered from the rejection or come to terms with the fact that his political career was ended by a chimp.

It now seems that Tory Boy is behaving like a spoiled child who cries and whines, because nobody, but his lone ally Jeff Milburn takes any notice of him. Mr Monkey reckons Pudgy Face is mentally ill and needs to seek professional help before it’s too late.

This poor excuse of a man is becoming more and more unstable. His mental illness is affecting not only his decision-making at the Red Lion, but is now hurting the image of the local Conservatives, which probably explains why rising star, Karen Allen, the Parliamentary candidate for South Shields wants nothing to do with him.

Councillor Potts reminds Mr Monkey of President Nixon in his final days as President, he drank too much, started to talk to pictures of past Presidents and became overwhelmingly paranoid. Please councillor Potts, seek help, before it’s too late .. this chimp is worried about you.

Pues sí, uno ha de reconocer que le ponía la mera expectativa de volverse a situar ante una pantalla para ver la silueta del héroe del látigo ajustándose el sombrero y de fondo los incipientes acordes del temazo de John Williams, indudable puerta abierta a una incesante catarata de acción y aventuras arqueológicas repleta de imprecisiones históricas y gran cantidad de absurdos, pero plenamente disfrutable. No en vano, el primer capítulo de esta saga, En busca del arca perdida, es sin lugar a dudas una obra maestra del cine de entretenimiento. A partir de ahí la cosa empezó pronto a decaer, intentando alternar la acción y la aventura con el humor y la autoparodia, pensando quizá más en el negocio que en el propio producto, y el resultado bajó muchos enteros, como ya dejamos claro aquí. La saga empezó a ser algo más cosa de fans que de aficionados al cine, como suele ser habitual en el cine comercialmente sobreexplotado, y lo que había nacido como una seria intención de recuperar los viejos cómics y el clásico cine de aventuras que dio a luz a generaciones enteras de lectores y cinéfilos, derivó finalmente en algo bastante friki. El anuncio de la tantas veces proyectada, aplazada y finalmente siempre descartada cuarta entrega de las peripecias de Indiana Jones resultó, no obstante, un prometedor augurio de que el cine de efectos especiales, monstruitos, superhéroes y demás morralla, pudiera dar paso de nuevo a una película de aventuras con mayúsculas pilotada por Spielberg y George Lucas, de nuevo con el viejo sabor de la emoción y el peligro a flor de piel.

Pues va a ser que no; el gozo en un pozo. Está claro que quienes a edades tempranas disfrutamos con la trilogía original en su momento (En busca del arca perdida es la primera película que quien escribe tiene memoria de haber visto en el cine) nos hemos hecho mayores y que ciertas historias y ciertos modos de contarlas ya no nos hechizan de igual modo; es lo lógico, uno de los resultados del proceso de maduración, por más que el Hollywood más comercial siga tomándonos por niños y defendiendo la inmadurez infinita. Pero es que la película, la cuarta entrega, no hay por dónde cogerla. Supone la degradación, la devaluación y la ridiculización, mucho más allá de una deliberada voluntad de autoparodia, no ya de un personaje y de una trilogía que se había ganado por derecho propio, a pesar de sus fallos – sobre todo de las dos últimas entregas -, un lugar en la Historia del Cine, sino también del recuerdo, de la memoria de millones de seguidores de la saga por todo el mundo. Y es que hay que ser un fanático muy convencido para no echar pestes de esta cuarta entrega.

Un Indiana ya talludito en 1957 consigue huir por los pelos de una base secreta soviética en el desierto de ¡¡¡¡Nuevo México!!!!, pero sus continuas y tan poco ortodoxas correrías han terminado colmando con el tiempo la paciencia de las autoridades de su Universidad, así que se ve amenazado de despido o jubilación anticipada para que no forme más escándalos. Asqueado, se encuentra en su camino con Mutt, un joven bastante capullo, repeinadísimo y pasado de moda incluso para 1957, con cara de alucinado permanente (Shia LaBeouf, mediocridad personificada), una cutre copia de aquella poderosa encarnación de Marlon Brando en Salvaje!, que le plantea una apasionante aventura en la que está involucrada su antiguo amor Marion (Karen Allen, antigua heroína de En busca del arca perdida reconvertida en envejecido pretexto para un triángulo “familiar” pésimamente tratado y absolutamente previsible) y que les pone tras la pista de la Calavera de Cristal de Akator, legendario objeto que otorga un poder sobrenatural y tras el cual van también los soviéticos de la mano de una cruel aventurera llamada Irina Spalko (Cate Blanchett). Así, Jones, Marion y Mutt, mientras echan cuentas con el pasado, huyen de los rusos tras la calavera en un Perú que se parece demasiado a México, o en un México que se parece mucho a Perú.

Receta conocida, brillantemente puesta en escena en otras ocasiones, aquí no es suficiente para sostener un trabajo cuya primera y única finalidad es el autobombo. Desaparecido cualquier atisbo de tensión, emoción, aventura o rigor histórico o artístico y sustituido por una mera acumulación de situaciones sin un hilo conductor, no verosímil, algo no exigible, pero al menos sí creíble, todo está desaprovechado y tratado con superficialidad, como una mera excusa para una autoparodia permanente en la que todo ocurre porque sí y para justificar los aparentes chistes y giros “familiares” de los tres personajes, ausentes de química entre sí al cien por cien: Marion ya no es la que era, Ford, aun canoso, es Ford, pero LaBeouf es un cálculo renal, una piedra en la vesícula. Blanchett está desaprovechadísima; de hecho, ella era la primera oportunidad de crear un malo para la saga que resistiera un mínimo análisis (ninguno de los villanos del cuarteto de films está dotado de una personalidad, un encanto o unos rasgos atractivos que lleguen a equipararlo a su oponente, al viejo estilo de Hitchcock o James Bond). Este insuficiente, por no decir inexistente, tratamiento de personajes se complementa con un abuso de efectos especiales y retoques digitales varios (errores ya existentes en la trilogía original, pero perdonables, al menos en la primera entrega), no al servicio de la recreación de lo imposible, sino de las metidas de pata, la confusión permanente de culturas precolombinas unas con otras, y la elevación a hecho aceptable lo que ya se demostró científicamente que era una estafa con fecha de nacimiento y nombre y apellidos de su creador.

Aventura sin historia, dotada de excesivos toques exóticos (la relación con otro tema preferido en Spielberg: los OVNIS), si no excéntricos (la inmunidad nuclear que Jones consigue encerrándose en una nevera, absurdo monumental candidato a la gilipollez máxima de la Historia del Cine si no fuera porque Keanu Reeves en Reacción en cadena ya consiguió salir airoso de una detonación nuclear escondiéndose detrás de un árbol…), cuenta con un guión pobre de solemnidad con diálogos alargados artificialmente en una interminable verborrea sin sentido (para este viaje no hacía falta descartar tantas versiones, cancelar tantas veces el proyecto y reescribir la historia hasta por diez guionistas diferentes) y con unas interpretaciones que son parodias de sí mismas, todo lo cual hace que no funcione como película de aventuras ni como cinta de humor. Un único instante recuerda al Jones de siempre, el inevitable momento de las arenas movedizas: Jones y Marion discuten; son los únicos tres o cuatro minutos en los que un espectador no entregado puede llegar a pensar que no está asistiendo a una gran estafa cinematográfica y moral.

En suma, una degradación consistente en caer unos tras otro por los peldaños que llevan de la categoría de obra maestra del entretenimiento a entretenimiento a secas. Desde luego, si atendemos a uno de los pretextos de la película, dar la oportunidad al público joven de ver a Indiana Jones en pantalla grande, nos caben muchas dudas de que los jóvenes que no disfrutaran de la trilogía original en su momento hayan apreciado verdaderamente en la película las virtudes de la saga, que las tenía, más que nada por la ausencia de casi todas ellas en este engendro comercialoide y de fines meramente monetarios, sin el sabor y el tono habituales que hicieron de la serie una franquicia cinematográfica imitada hasta la saciedad. Y como, no obstante, en taquilla ha funcionado, ahí está en cartera el proyecto de la quinta película, para la que Spielberg y Lucas mantienen una gran divergencia: último capítulo de Harrison Ford situado nuevamente en la Guerra Fría o precuela de En busca del arca perdida en los primeros tiempos del nazismo con Shia LaBeouf haciendo de joven Jones y sin Ford en el reparto. Dentro de lo malo, si la quinta es inevitable, que sea con Ford, por favor. Pero mucho mejor sería que, por respeto sobre todo a la primera parte, a los espectadores, al buen gusto, y a la memoria y al afecto de millones de espectadores, dejaran las cosas como están. Bastante la han cagado ya.

Acusados: todos
Atenuantes: algún pequeño momento que recuerda lo que nunca debió dejar de ser
Agravantes: la sensación de tomadura de pelo que deja
Sentencia: culpable
Condena: ingestión masiva de cardos borriqueros con mayonesa, electroshock y al pobre guionista, David Koepp, lobotomía cerebral y testicular

    Richard Price’s first novel “The Wanderers” was published in 1974, when he was twenty-four years old. Price knew the territory having grown up in the housing projects of The Bronx. It was a period just before the Assassination of JFK, before Vietnam was on the front page of every newspaper and before the Beatles. The episodic novel focuses on an Italian-American gang, “The Wanderers” led by Richie Gennaro (Ken Wahl). Price’s Bronx is overflowing with gangs, among them the Del Rays, the Fordham Baldies, the Wongs and the stunted Irish bat wielding wild men, the Ducky Boys. Phillip Kaufman’s 1979 film version, while diverting from it source novel in many respects, similarly focus’ on a series of descriptive scenes centering on Gennaro and his fellow Wanderers. Though they wear matching satin jackets, they are not so much a gang as they are a union of close friends hanging out on street corners, chasing girls and protecting themselves from the more dangerous gangs of the Bronx neighborhood they live in. This inner city coming of age film sparkles intermittently while managing to unfortunately derail itself at times with arty self-consciousness.  

    Statistically the sixties began in 1960 however, the mood, the essence, the spirit of the sixties began in 1963; the year it all began to change. At this point in time, the radio was still filled with American Rock and Roll; artists like Dion, The Contours, The Four Seasons, The Shirelles and The Isley Brothers ruled the Billboard charts. Guys hanging out on street corners singing doo-wop, watching the girls walk by, sizing them up, planning how to cop a feel by “accidentally” bumping into them.

    The film’s focus is on four of The Wanderers, Richie, Joey (John Friedrich), Perry (Tony Ganios) and Buddy (Jim Youngs).  Though the screenplay, written by Philip and Rose Kaufman, is as episodic at Price’s novel, the film never goes much beyond the boys’ current life and does not reveal any dreams or aspirations they may have beyond their present existence. In his novel, Price ventures to suggest what the future could offer, what they as individuals, want out of life beyond hanging out on the Grand Concourse and Fordham Road. True, Joey and Perry drive off to San Francisco at the end however; they do not seem to have any plans other than to get out of their current individual situations. The boys’ families are dysfunctional, Joey, an artistic type, is brutalized by his over macho father, Emilio (William Andrews), and Perry (Tony Ganios), a new kid on the block, just moved from New Jersey, has an alcoholic mother who sleeps around. As for Richie, he seems destined to marry his recently knock-up girlfriend Despie (Toni Kalem) and live a life of eating pasta and wearing Hawaiian shirts, similar to his Mafia like future father-in-law.

    The film is successful in spots, particularly the opening scenes where Kaufman’s camera gloriously flows over The Bronx from above, fluidly moving down in front Alexander’s Department store to focus on the pug faces of the Fordham Baldies, all to the beat of The Four Seasons “Walk Like a Man.”  Another finely realized scene is the strip poker party Richie orchestrates with Joey. The girls, Despie and a new girl Nina (Karen Allen), from the right side of the tracks, are set up to lose both the game and their clothes. There is a mischievous comic interplay between the four characters, the girls begin to catch on that the game is rigged, that is executed more naturally than anything else in the movie.

    Unfortunately, the film goes off course in other scenes, particularly when Kaufman films a bizarre atmospheric episode where Richie and his friends spot Nina walking down the street and follow her in Perry’s car. They end up in an eerie fog filled, oddly lit world controlled by the bat swinging Ducky Boys. It is such a strange out of context scene that I almost expected one of the Wanderers to say, “I don’t think we’re in The Bronx anymore, Toto” as they drive deeper into this strange Oz like landscape gone wrong. Outnumbered, the four are beaten up, though they eventually manage to escape the villainous Ducky Boys.     

    New York City, like many big cities, was inundated with youth gangs in the 1950’s and early 1960’s.  Price, in his novel, and Kaufman likewise in the film, used the names of real gangs from those bygone days. The Fordham Baldies (the real gang did not shave their heads), The Ducky Boys, and The Wanderers were all real and violent gangs. Unlike “The Warriors”, released earlier the same year, “The Wanderers” is not so much about gangs as it is about coming of age, in a more innocent time that was on the verge of extinction. We see the dawn of a new age (of Aquarius?) in various scenes. The Vietnam War, though never mentioned, is symbolized by the foreboding Marine recruiter who suckers some of the Baldies into signing up. The assassination of John F. Kennedy is viewed by Richie as he passes by a department store window with a TV broadcasting the news on the President’s death. During his bachelor party in Little Italy, Richie spots Nina and follows her a few blocks to Folk City where a young Bob Dylan is performing “The Times They Are A- Changin.’” Nina enters the club meeting some friends while, Richie uncertain remains outside. He turns and leaves returning to his party and the familiar world he knows. These scenes may be a bit obvious and even heavy-handed but they do convey an emotion that our lives will no longer be as innocent and carefree as they once were.

      Richard Price, as I am sure many know, is one of our grittiest and best novelist and screenwriters. His novels include “The Ladies Man”, “Bloodbrothers”, “Clockers”, “Freedomland”, and most recently “Lush Life.”  His screenplays include “Sea of Love”, “Clockers”, “Shaft”, “Mad Dog and Glory”, “Night and the City” and “The Color of Money.” Price also wrote the music video “Bad” for Michael Jackson, which was directed by Martin Scorsese.

    The cast was filled, at the time, with talented unknowns. This was Ken Wahl’s first film; he would later star as Vinnie in Stephen Cannell’s TV series “Wiseguy.”  Karen Allen, of course, would hit it big in “Raiders of the Lost Ark.” Toni Kalem would later appear in “The Sopranos” as Angie Bonpensiero, Big Pussy’s wife. I especially found Wahl’s characterization of Richie and Toni Kalem’s, Despie the real highlights along with EricVan Lidth De Jeude who played Terror, the gigantic intimidating 350 pound, 6’6” imposing leader of the Baldies. Terror’s girlfriend was played by 4’ 10” Linda Manz. In filming the couple, polar opposites in size, Kaufman’s camera presents an idiosyncratic Fellini like images of the two.

       The soundtrack is filled with early sixties hits, highlighted by two of Dion’s greatest, “The Wanderer” and “Runaround Sue.” Kaufman’s uses the soundtrack not just as an excuse to sell albums; his choices compliment the visuals as effectively as Scorsese did in “Mean Streets” a few years earlier.  The use of “Walk Like a Man” at the beginning of the film where we first are introduced to the Fordham Baldies is a highlight. The pounding beat Dion’s “The Wanderer” is the Italian-American gang’s national anthem.      

    “The Wanderers” was released about six months after “The Warriors” and was unfairly compared to Walter Hill’s gang infested adventure with a New York City over ridden with gangs. What “The Wanderers” does is capture a moment in time, not always very successfully, but in spirit, a time when the innocence of a nation was about to end and we and The Wanderers were about to grow up.

Title: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull
Year: 2008
Director: Steven Spielberg
Writer: David Koepp; story by George Lucas & Jeff Nathanson; characters by Lucas & Philip Kaufman
Starring: Harrison Ford, Cate Blanchett, Karen Allen, Shia LaBeouf, Ray Winstone, John Hurt
Music: John Williams
Length: 122 minutes
Synopsis: Indiana Jones gets a new sidekick, and some weird stuff happens around them
How I saw it: in the theater, May 2008
Subjective Rating: 6/10
Objective Rating: 4/10 (gets points for characters, pacing, acting and subjective rating)

Disappointing all around, but fun enough to be entertaining. The plot doesn’t make any sense, and isn’t affected by anything the heroes do. I only give it a point for characters because of John Hurt’s performance. I’m shocked to see that Williams did the score himself; there isn’t a single moment  where the music adds anything. The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve hated this movie. I’m sure my rating would plummet drastically if I were to re-watch it (not that that is something I could ever see myself doing).

Donald Sutherland: I’ve been working on my novel for four and a half years.
Karen Allen: It must be very good.
Donald Sutherland: It’s a piece of shit.
—Animal House

Here’s another post for the Things That Make a Writer Cry file. I must be in that mood.

Animal House. The first time I saw that, I went outside afterward and watched another movie-goer drive over the concrete base of the theater sign in the parking lot. In a Chevy van, no less. Those were the days.

I’ve never forgotten the Sutherland character’s apt summary of his life’s work in that brief, succinct line. Maybe because he lisped. More likely, though, because it was uttered with such glib bitterness. This was a writer who’d just done that one last revision before he went behind the barn and shot himself.

Revision is a mercurial tool. The first few times through it’s pleasant, a sort of aromatherapy on the exhausted psyche of the deservedly-proud new parent of a tiny baby book. Sure, you can let that multiple adverb go. Yes, take out most of the “oh’s” and “well’s” in the dialog (except where they’re really necessary for character development, of course). And you understand, you didn’t need quite so many lines to get the main characters out of the room in that pivotal Plot Point 2 scene. Polish it to a shine. It’s a diamond in the rough—a little elbow grease honing every single gorgeous facet never hurt anyone. Hey, you’re a Writer.

After awhile it starts being less like aromatherapy and more like sit-ups. One more time through. Wow, how’d you miss that typo? Woops. You thought her name was Janet. And hang on—weren’t the aliens supposed to be lavender? When did they become puce?

But you’re still feeling pretty good because, after all, you’re still improving it. Granted, it needs more improvement that you were banking on. You all but called Nat Sobel the day you typed The End to see if he wanted to grab a spot before your schedule filled up, and now you’re pretty glad you didn’t. That would have been one expensive trip to NYC to tell him you were still in the middle of “giving it a last once-over”. You’re such a perfectionist.

You’ve stopped laughing out loud at the funny spots. You don’t need to pause anymore and let the glory sink in when you come to the really incredible phrases (“the lava leaked slowly out of his heart”—how come nobody ever thought of that simile before?). You’re taking it in stride. Only now and then do you allow yourself a soft, clear murmur—leaning across your desk to change the CD—”I’m really good.”

You write because you love to write. Isn’t that the way it works? So you keep revising as long as you still love revising. And you do enjoy doing this! It’s a heck of a book! You’d buy it in a hot second.

Nat Sobel is going to be so pleased.

And then there comes the night when you find yourself reading over words that have acquired such resonance in your mind that they’re no longer in English. You wake up from the daydream of fame with a start (“sorry, Oprah—that’s my phone—”). You have apparently written a heck of a book. In Russian.

You blink and re-read that line. Words in English. Meaning by telepathy. Syntax and grammar in. . .well, it looks a lot like a dead language. Maybe Indo-European? Are you channeling someone?

You try whispering it out loud to break the spell. “He had a brain flamed with meaning. His eyes were on fire. Hot lava poured out of his sternum. His heart followed it, wincing.” It’s like fly-fishing for Harlequin vulcanologists.

In a flash, it sinks in. This is not a heck of a book. This is a heck of a piece of shit. You have just lost eight weeks you will never get back neglecting your family, your job, and your friends over this.

Weeping is not a humiliating activity when it’s accompanied by sincere, bittersweet regret and an unshakable commitment to never repeat such a humbling mistake again. You will go on with your life, you vow. You will stick to your last. I mean, how many people saw this coming? How many well-meaning advisers suggested, “It’s nice for a hobby, honey—”? How many of them did you dismiss as callow unbelievers?

Weep your heart out. You and Ophelia both. You think she threw herself in the river over that nickel-plated nutcase Hamlet? She was too good for him. No. She’d just finished her one last revision.

See Returning from the dead.

2008. Directed by Stephen Spielberg.

Last year saw the return of action movie icon Dr. Henry Jones Jr., better known as Indiana Jones. However, his return may not have been entirely welcomed.

The original Indiana Jones trilogy seemed so complete and beloved that it’s hard to imagine why creators George Lucas and Stephen Spielberg felt they needed to go to the well again. How can you improve upon the last shot of The Last Crusade of Indiana and father riding off into the sunset? And how do you expect to integrate today’s film-making technology into the series and still have it be as one stylistically with the previous films?

The answer is that you can’t, but you can make an entertaining movie on it’s own terms, one that stands apart from the rest of the series, but still has it’s own value.

The film takes place now in the 50’s. The Russians have taken the nazi’s place as the agents of evil and Indiana Jones has to use his archeological prowess to protect the free world. 

Along for the ride this time is Mutt (Shia LaBeouf) a kid with the same grit and tenacity as Indy. I wonder where he gets those traits from? His mother Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen) who everyone should remember from The Raiders of the Lost Arc. I don’t think a single audience member will be very surprised when they learn just who Mutt’s dad really is.

Where the original films took their inspiration from the cliffhangers of the 40’s, Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull is reminiscent of the B-movies of the fifties. Appropriate for the time period I thought this was actually one of the film’s stronger choices, although I know many hardcore Raiders fans who disagree. 

We’re still treated to all the fun chase scenes, fist fights, booby traps, and bad girls of the original trilogy, but everything is amped up to another level. Scenes lose their power due to some of the computer generated effects. The chase scene through the jungle is fast paced true, but it’s not believable for even a minute. That business about the monkey’s swooping in to save all our hero’s is particularly absurd.

However there are really great action scenes as well. The opening of the film is exciting and keeps the spirit of Indiana Jones alive and well. There’s a chase scene involving Mutt’s motorcycle that’s comedic and exciting. And the scene where Indy and Mutt go into the graveyard is spooky and fun.

Harrison Ford is in his mid 60’s, but he’s still the man for the job. True he looks a bit older, but he sure looks like he can still kick some ass if needed. He gets to stretch out a little bit comedically in this one too, verbally sparing with the wonderful Karen Allen. 

Karen is a great addition for fans of the original film. Her performance in Raiders Of The Lost Arc was great, and she gives Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull a much needed connection to the rest of the franchise. 

Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull may be the worst of the series, but when you are trying to follow up three classic movies that are so well loved, it’s almost impossible to satisfy anyone’s expectations completely. It may be another unnecessary sequel, but it’s light fun that has it’s heart in the right place.

Great Barrington, MA is a sweet, small town with beautiful shops notably on Main St and Bank St. Particularly, noteworthy is Karen Allen’s store stocked with sumptuously soft cashmere sweaters, hats, fingerless gloves (you’ll just want to wear them all the time – yummy). I walked in an was recognized by Susan, who works there part-time, and who also is a landscape architect and designed my hillside of thyme, peonies, day lilies and ladies mantle 10 years ago.

But, back to the shop.

Karen is an actress (think Marion Ravenwood…Indiana Jones) who is also a talented artist. She is a student of ancient and modern textiles from aroudn the world. She designs and works with hand manipulated Japanese knitting machines to create her amazing sweaters, scarves and more using Scottish and Italian cashmere yarns.

All this beauty does come with a hefty price tag. Worth saving up for one wonderful sweater to savor through the winter and the rest of your life! Or even just some fingerless gloves? Hope some of my family members happen to read this post. Definitely worth a browse and squeeze, and tell Susan that I sent you.

Yesterday was an amazing day for 6,000 friends, family, administration, faculty and the Fashion Institute of Technology 2009 graduates who filled Radio City Music Hall. Although I was not a graduate, I was their to represent the class of 2010 in the “Transfer of Colors” ceremony.

The service was beautiful. All the graduate we happy to be done! Even though the service had an grim undertone due to the economic condition, each speaker took it as an opportunity to place a positive spin on the issue and reassure the graduates of an optimistic future.

Our Commencement Speaker was not Barack or Michelle (jealous!) but one of the most famous photographers of all time, Annie Leibovitz. When Annie approached the mic, she told the graduates that she was not accustomed to speaking so much to a group of people “without taking a picture,” but she was fascinating. She told us of her career and gave the graduates advice to teach themselves. Make their dreams come true. She, like the other speakers reminded the graduates that it is their job to turn our nation around. “We are counting on you,” she said.

Of course I was knew who Annie Leibovitz was, but I am ashamed to say, I didn’t know how much I loved this woman’s work until I got the chance to look her up. Annie Leibovitz has taken some of my favorite photos from Rolling Stone, Vanity Fair and Vogue. Many of these shoots have been saved to my computer for years.

Later that day I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art (MET) to finally see the Model as Muse: Embody Fashion Exhibit (I’ll get to that later), and there, again, was her timeless work. She has managed to be the time keeper for pop culture for generations. She is iconic and truly a living legend.

The ceremony also included Karen Allen who received an Honorary Doctorate Degree for her work with Karen Allen Fiber Arts, an established knitwear company.  I doubt you have heard of her company, but have heard of Karen Allen.  She is most well known for her acting role as Marion Ravenwood in Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark, and more recently Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.  Yes, she is a former FIT student.

Tony Chi was also honored with a Honorary Doctorate Degree.  Tony Chi’s bio was extremely impressive.  After graduating from FIT’s Interior Design Program he went on to design landmarks such as the Harley-Davidson Cafe in New York and the Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas.  I was very impressed.  Their seems to be a little FIT influence everywhere.

The commencement was excellent overall.  Congratulations Class of 2009! I cannot wait until next year!

Hacía mucho, mucho, mucho tiempo que esperaba esta película. Sinceramente desde que en mi vhs de La última cruzada los protagonistas comentaban esa posibilidad y George Lucas decía que había un guión… Desde entonces empecé a buscar información sobre la película. Una vez tuve internet me metía todos los días en Indyesp.net para conocer que pasaba y ahí leía todas las peripecias del guión, las declaraciones de los protagonistas (sobretodo de George Lucas) hablando de cuando harían la película. Retrasos, más retrasos, declaraciones, más declaraciones, guionistas, más guionistas y al final se anuncia a principio del año pasado. Se empezó a rodar, empezaron las primeras pajas mentales, primeras imagenes, videos del rodaje, declaraciones, anuncios, hechos. Vimos un trailer que nos hizo la boca agua. Había vuelto Indiana Jones. Pero no cualquier Indiana Jones, sino un Indiana Jones bastardo. 

¡Te vamo a viola! ¡Te vamo a viola! ¡Te vamo a viola!

Indiana Jones IV tiene un problema principal bajo mi punto de vista, y es su pésimo guión del sobrevaloradísimo David Koepp. No me gusta nada como avanza la película, y ese es el lastre. No es agil, no se mueve como el resto de películas de la saga, y desde que van a sudamerica hasta la parte de la jungla, la película renquea y renquea mucho. Es como un monstruo malherido. Eso no se puede permitir en una película de Indiana Jones, y mucho menos cuando avanza a base de absurdos (neveras y tarzanes). La saga se ha caracterizado por un humor muy concreto, un humor que solo veo en esta en los puñetazos. Aquí veo unas cosas tremendamente infantiles en el mal sentido de la palabra. No es que yo haya crecido, sino que la película se prostituye a sí misma. Esta como pidiendo perdón por existir, como intentando que no quede mal en el año 2008, pero para eso solo deberían haber hecho una película como las otras, ni más ni menos. Lo que no se puede tolerar es que esta película siga los mismos pasos que La Momia (a mí me gustan como películas de aventuras, es una digna sucesora lo queramos o no) y que La Busqueda (la primera es muy entretenida, la segunda una bazofia que lamentablemente tiene muchas similitudes con esta) o hasta El Código Da Vinci. No señores, esta película se tiene que mover y contar como lo que es, una película de Indiana Jones. Y a George Lucas le haran gracía muchas tonterías, pero al público no. Y el público adora a Spielberg, ya no adora a George Lucas. 

Sin duda, una bonita imagen

Y fijaos que hay momentos que me gustan de este film, todo el principio (exceptuando eso y el cohete) que si se parece a Indiana Jones (hasta lo ridículo de la biblioteca), la parte de la Jungla y me gusta la sala de las calaveras, no se a que me recuerdan pero me ha gustado. Pero claro el guión no sabe mover todo eso. Tiene personajes que directamente sobran (John Hurt) y que podrían haber sido sustituidos con cuatro lineas de diálogos y cuatro planos que fuesen de pura exploración, sentimiento de aventura. Pero en lugar de eso tenemos a un “Herman Toothrot” paliza, el partícular Jar Jar Binks de la película que no hace gracia como no podía ser de otra forma. Tampoco me ha gustado el personaje de Mac, muy mal construido que no empatiza nada con el espectador. Al final nos da exactamente igual lo que pase con él. Shia esta bastante bien, no tengo ninguna pega con su personaje aunque se le temía (solo me quejo de las situaciones absurdas por las que se le hace pasar). A Marion se la tiene cariño, sin duda para mí es la chica Indy y la malvada de la función interpretada por esa Diosa que es Cate Blanchett tampoco me parece mal, aunque su personaje esta muy desaprovechado. 

Las caras de Ford y Shia mientras leian el "guión"

Tenemos esos efectos especiales que en teoría iban a ser tan artesanales y que al final tienen CGI a puñados. Que no me molesta, en algún caso dan un efecto “comic” a algunas escenas y quedan bien, pero vamos en otro caso cantan y lo hacen sin necesidad pues si la película se hubiese ceñido a lo que venía siendo la saga, esos muñecos digitales no habrían hecho falta. Y es que ya en el cementerio me he empezado a cabrear mucho. En el “Valle Encantado” pues también. Y a lo mejor no me molesta tanto el elemento Sci-Fi, pero vamos tampoco era necesario en la saga. Es más, es como un santo con dos pistolas. Muchas veces las cosas quedan mucho mejor dejándolas caer que mostrándolas. Por eso tampoco acepto el “final feliz”. Esta claro que teniamos que ver alguna clase de escena de “relevo”, pero en vez el “final feliz” las cosas queddan mejor sin redundar tanto, mostrando que en el fondo Indy y Marion son Indy y Marion y no se puede evitar que sean el uno para el otro. Pero el mal guión de Koepp no lo sabe contar, no sabe digamos hacer realista el reencuentro entre los dos personajes y un progreso en su relación tras el reencuentro. Nada. Queda tan mal y forzado como el reencuentro de los abuelos en La Busqueda 2: El Diario Secreto. 

¡¡¡ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

Me ha gustado el plano heroe – pepinazo nuclear. Tiene buenos planos y tampoco es que nos podamos quejar de la dirección de Spielberg, solo de su concepción de la cinta y de haberse prestado a bailarle el agua al culpable de todo esto que no es otro que George Lucas. Lo peor de todo es que no habría costado tanto, no habría costado tanto hacer la película que todos esperabamos. No hubiera costado tanto. Pero al final Spielberg no ha hecho una película para los fans, para todos los frikis que estabamos en un sinvivir con la puñetera película, al final Spielberg ha hecho una película que sin duda es la peor de la saga y la ha hecho para el ego de George Lucas; otro personaje al que solo debemos agradecer la idea de Star Wars. Si Star Wars es lo que es estoy seguro que no es por él, sino por los guionistas que redondearon la saga original. 

Esto es fastidiar una saga mítica. Gracias Lucas.

Capítulo aparte merece la fotografía del polaco Janusz Kaminski, fotografo habitual de Spielberg y auténtico horror de este filme. Planos saturados de luz, brillantes, muy brillantes sin ningún atisbo de parecerse a la fotografía de la trilogía original (tal y como pretendía). El resultado daña las retinas, es espantoso y ridículo. No hay más que ver al principio cuando pasan por el hangar. Creo que Kaminski requirió ahí la potencia de todas las centrales del Niagara, provocando un apagón en la costa Este.

¡Puraaaaaa! ¿Qué te dije sobre conectar la Epilady?

Para esto, deberían haber dejado la saga como estaba, con el final perfecto que tenía La última cruzada. Si amigos, lo estoy diciendo así de claro. Indiana Jones y el Reino de la Calavera de Cristal es mala con avaricia. 

Wanted. Se buscan. Se recompensará. Preferiblemente muertos

Starman de John Carpenter

Scrooged is a 1988 comedy film, a modernization of Charles Dickens’ novella, A Christmas Carol. The film was produced and directed by Richard Donner, and the cinematography was by Michael Chapman. The screenplay was written by Mitch Glazer and Michael O’Donoghue. The original music score was composed by Danny Elfman.

The cast includes: Bill Murray, Karen Allen, Bob “Bobcat” Goldthwait, John Forsythe, Carol Kane, David Johansen, John Houseman, John Glover, and Robert Mitchum. It also features cameo appearances by Olympic gymnast Mary Lou Retton, musicians Larry Carlton, Miles Davis, David Sanborn, and Paul Shaffer, actor/singer Robert Goulet, and actors Jamie Farr, Buddy Hackett, Lee Majors, and Pat McCormick as well as the Solid Gold Dancers. Bill Murray’s real-life brothers, Brian, John, and Joel also appear in the film.

The film was marketed with references to the film Ghostbusters which had been a great success four years earlier in 1984. In the USA, the tagline for Scrooged was, “Bill Murray is back among the ghosts, only this time, it’s three against one.” In Brazil, it’s named “Os Fantasmas Contra-Atacam” (The Ghosts Strike Back). In Spain, the film was titled “Los fantasmas atacan al jefe” (The Ghosts Attack the Boss). In Italy, the movie was released as “S.O.S. fantasmi” (“S.O.S. ghosts”).

Amazon Specials!

Runtime: 1 hr 58 mins
Genre: Action, Adventure
Release Date: June 12, 1981
Starring: Harrison Ford, Karen Allen, Paul Freeman, Ronald Lacey
Director: Steven Spielberg

Summary: Get ready to globe-trot with one of the big screen’s greatest adventurers. When Dr. Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) — the tweed-suited professor who just happens to be a celebrated archaeologist — is hired by the government to locate the legendary Ark of the Covenant (resting place of the original Ten Commandments), he finds himself up against the entire Nazi regime. Steven Spielberg and George Lucas teamed up to create this all-time favorite.

My Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ (Loved It)

Critic Reviews:
Roger Ebert (Chicago Sun-Times)