When writing fiction choosing names can seem daunting,  important and also fraught with implications. There are so many options when it comes to selecting a characters name. BabyNames.com has some good advice on choosing names for characters. For instance, certain genre’s have name cliche’s due to already written classics and stylistic qualities. Playing to these can make a story dull to readers familiar with these said cliche’s. One example of how powerfuly a popular character’s name can affected name popularity is found in an article by Allison Burnett.  He explains that when “the prime time soap opera, Peyton Place, made its debut on network TV. One of the characters was a waif named Allison Mackenzie. Viewers didn’t care or even notice that Allison spelled her name like a boy, they just knew that they loved her. Overnight, the actress who played her, Mia Farrow, became a household name, and Allison with two l’s became one of the most popular girls’ names in the English-speaking world.” Another resource is etymology web sites. Etymology is the study of name meanings both first and last.

http://www.behindthename.com/

http://surnames.behindthename.com/

J Timothy offers this perspective on character names. “Character names are like any other words in a story. Choose them carefully only if they’ll make a difference. Otherwise, don’t sweat. Just pick something and move on. It’s much more important to develop the whole of the character than to obsess over a few little words. That’s the big secret to naming characters.” You can read the rest of his article here.

fabulous hair, amazing makeup, and decadent costumes.  no this isn’t a drag queen’s closet (or my closet).  it’s the performers who belong to the osadia company- a spanish street performance group that does hair.  we’re not talking that dood who invented “the rachel” or whoever snipped “the mia farrow” we’re talking CRAZY ASS HAIR.  kind of like in the movie blow dry, but even crazier!  below are photos taken by yours truly at the 2006 detroit arts festival (2006-dang that was a long time ago!)

you!

showdown!

special buddies

hair

pink hair

purple people eater

trimming the hedges

put a ring on it.

bouffant

where did i put my fan?

Back in high school, I went through a bit of a Woody Allen craze, burning through a small handful of his classics and loving them.  I’ve also been quite partial to his more recent stuff, whether for their content or their style.  But either way, as a bit of an artsy knebbishy Jew myself, Woody Allen’s films really do speak with me most of the time.  And recently I’ve been trying to plug in the holes in the middle, everything in between “Annie Hall” and “Match Point.”  Also, I wanted a good Thanksgiving movie, and this is what popped up first when I googled “Thanksgiving movie.”

But, as I’ve found with a number of these middle of the road Woody Allen films, I was pretty disappointed with Hannah.  And her sisters too.  First off, Woody himself doesn’t really seem to fit in this film at all.  It’s supposed to be about Hannah and her sisters, and until the end Woody’s story is basically separate from everything else going on.  It kind of seemed like he had some funny situations written for himself, so decided he would just stick it in the movie and make it fit later.  Like all Woody Allen movies, the relationships here are incredibly stylized, and unfortunately it doesn’t quite work here.  Motivations are unclear, and characters make some really dumb decisions.

But, being Woody Allen, there are some gems in this movie.  His whole story line about thinking he’s dying, even though it really has nothing to do with anything else going on, is very funny.  Some of the acting, particularly Michael Caine, is pretty great.

In terms of Woody Allen, pretty forgettable fare.  I find it pretty bizarre that this was nominated for like every Oscar in 1986 and I guess at one point people were lobbying for it to be nominated for the Pulitzer?  Whatever.  Either way, Woody’s done better.  Plus the creepiness factor of having a movie with Woody, Mia, and Soon-Yi is pretty messed up.  I’m glad to check it off of my list, but I’ll take “Bananas” or “Manhattan” any day of the week.

On November 8th, Mia Farrow was the keynote speaker at Ve’ahavta’s Starry Night’s Gala. I had the opportunity to spend time with her and discovered she is the ‘real deal’. Mia has traveled to Darfur over a dozen times and adopted 10 children. She has held dying babies in her arms and faced down the enemy. This was/is all by choice. She is an activist and one of the only people on planet earth who has put her life on the line for Darfur and its people. I was deeply inspired by her message, soul and courage.

How to cash in on your old life

Some times I muse, well,  what topic should I “b – l – o- g” about next? Then, my good friend, Doug, the psychic gambler, is very likely to email about a new site he just discovered. In this instance, today he emailed me a link to The Bank of Reincarnation. Here, the idea follows the format of any other regular “savings” bank. You make a deposit and then you wait for it to draw interest.Only in this case, it could take 100s of years or a few weeks to withdraw, as you journey from this life to the next. Who knows how long it takes?  Most people, of my acquaintance, long ago depleted their savings accounts so they are not likely to participate; others, with trust funds and such, do not put their money into banks – they invest. (Pertinent Aside: Since I am a rare book dealer, I was hoping the people-with-with-money would invest in my books like they did in the good old days of 2007. Tant pis! (that word doesn’t look very nice on the page, but it’s French. trust me.) I am now rereading Gogol).

So, anyway, I clicked on the link for the Bank of Reincarnation, which looks less like a spiritual site than one would think – considering the subject is Reincarnation. The Home Page directs you to the fact page where you could learn about what type of deposits are considered best: money, of course, followed by precious metals, jewelry and probably even (gasp) rare books (if they have  enormous value). I think were I to deposit my rare books, it would be in a museum collection (I did so, a few years back) a school (I did that also) or a library (ditto). There, students and writers could study the antique and collectible books, many beautifully illustrated, – and perhaps learn what they were like pre-Kindle. Touchable.

I haven’t thought about or talked about reincarnation with any one lately – I suppose that’s because all the Reincarnation topics were used up in the 1970s when the Maharishi , the Beatles and even Mia Farrow were tuning into this life and others. I guess one could say these days, Reincarnation is a dead subject, or at least not a very popular one today. (Some people, of course, do not take the matter lightly – it’s part of their religious and cultural tradition. They should feel safe from my sarcasm).

And then along comes The Bank – offering to shelter your (valuable) worldly goods until you return, next life, or the next after that,  to collect your valuable stuff. Isn’t that nice?  The whole thing sounds more like a regular, circa 2009 bank than a spiritual one. It absolutely figures.

Al K Hall ('s body double) Learns About Reiki

From the juiced-box:

[Press 'Play' to feel it]

Basically

A ‘gathering’ is a party without alcohol. Miss Demeanor took me to a gathering the other day…

A group of people got together to ‘hand’ out free samples of Reiki (pronounced ray-key, as in ‘Ray-key up before you go-go”.) This is the practice of healing people spiritually, mentally/psychologically, and physically through touch.

History

It started in India a long time ago.

Later, it was rediscovered in Japan.

That’s enough history for now.

Alcohol vs Reiki

Miss D and i get to the place and this sober drummer (which, apparently, is not oxymoronic) showed us into a small room where we were shown a video.

If it had been a real party, there would’ve been a drink in my hand before i sat down and instead of YouTube, we would’ve had Disturbed.

Then, the guy led me to a dimly lit room where a crowd of people stood around a massage table. Have you ever seen Rosemary’s Baby? You know the scene where Satan rapes Mia Farrow? It was kinda like that without the nudity.

I had to lie down on the table and everyone put their hands all over my body except for the fun parts. New Age Yanni-type music played and whenever a bell chimed, they moved their hands to a different place but still avoiding the good bits. Basically, it was a Thai massage with no massage and no happy ending.

Had it been a real party, there would’ve been less clothing, nicer touching and some kissing if you’re lucky. And either Sick Puppies or Tom Waits after Disturbed—New Age is the new Old Age.

i’m Just Sayin’

i had a bad case of blue balls when i got there and i must admit they were less blue (redder?) when i left even if, as i said, no one came even remotely close to polishing my family jewels off. Still, i can’t see Reiki ever replacing the good ole 6-pack and a handjob.

“A existência humana precede sua essência.” Jean-Paul Sartre

Karenina Rostov

*****

SINOPSE

A história (fictícia) de um homem camaleão, Leonard Zelig, inseguro e neurótico, que se obriga a imitar física e mentalmente qualquer pessoa que esteja em sua companhia. Tenta um tratamento com a Dra. Eudora Fletcher, mas vira celebridade nacional e aparecem manchas do seu passado, como furto e bigamia.

FICHA DO FILME

Título original: Zelig
Diretor: Woody Allen
Elenco: Mia Farrow, Woody Allen, Susan Sontag, Saul Bellow, Irving Howe, Garrett Brown, Michael Jeter
Gênero: Comédia
Duração: 79 min
Ano: 1983

Por: Karenina Rostov.  Blog: Letras Revisitadas.

“Sure you can, old sport,” Gatsby said. Boy, was he wrong.  I remember when professor Wadlington talked to us about this Gatsby, and how he’d been so misguided. He’d invested everything into going back in time to get something that was impossible. Poor Gatsby. It was always too late.

I’m only looking forward. Back there is nothing. Absolutely nothing.  Everything is ahead.

Be Kind Rewind – Gli acchiappafilm è un film del 2008, commedia americana della New Line Cinema, diretto da Michel Gondry e interpretato da Jack Black, Mos Def, Melonie Diaz, Danny Glover e Mia Farrow.

Leggi altre notizie su: | Michel Gondry | Jack Black | Mos Def | Danny Glover | Mia Farrow

El director David Lynch, conocido por películas como Mulholland Drive o Inland Empire, pretende volver a hacer de las suyas con una película sobre el fallecido Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, el fundador de la Meditación Trascendental, famosa por los beneficios que logra sobre el cuerpo y la mente.

Puede que te preguntes, ¿esto qué tiene que ver con la música?. Pues resulta que Maharishi Mahesh Yogi tuvo mucho más que ver en la música de lo que a muchos les hubiera gustado.

Como dato destacado fue el gurú de los Beatles, quienes asistieron a sus clases de meditación en Rishikesh (India); en alguna ocasión McCartney mostraba el pleno convencimiento de que esta práctica les ayudó a dar estabilidad al grupo.

De hecho, a Maharishi Mahesh Yogi le debemos canciones como “Sexy Sadie” o la primera versión del tema de John Lennon “Child Of Nature”, conocida después por “Jealous Guy”.

Pero no solo estos músicos sucumbieron al arte de la MT, como se conoce de forma abreviada. Por ejemplo, Le Luthiers le hicieron su particular homenaje hace tiempo.

Nunca se llegó a saber la verdad, pero se decía también que la ruptura de Mia Farrow con Frank Sinatra fue provocada por la MT, se tomó en aquel entonces como una especie de efecto secundario. Otro de los que se interesaron por la práctica fue Mike Love, el cantante de los Beach Boys.

El guitarrista y cantante de la década de los 60 Donovan fue otro de los artistas que sucumbieron ante esta forma de relajar la mente. Éste junto con Lynch no solo reconocieron su convicción acerca de esta práctica, sino que han intentado más de una vez difundir la MT entre los jóvenes londinenses. Esta película es solo un paso más en esa ardua tarea.

Manhattan (Woody Allen – 1979 – EUA)

Eu fiquei um pouco frustrado em rever Manhattan, porque lembrava dele como o meu Woody Allen preferido. Ainda é um belo filme, mas falta uma certa maturidade emocional nele. Allen demonstra aqui uma boa compreensão de como funcionam relacionamentos. É fácil de entender e acreditar na aproximação dele com Diane Keaton (os dois tinham mesmo boa química). Mas seu filme permanece num nível racional demais, há dor e emoção de menos nos desencontros amorosos.

A relação mais passional do finme é do cineasta e do fotógrafo (o grande Gordon Willis, praticamente co-autor de Manhattan) com a cidade em si – são planos e mais planos de grande beleza. Allen só se interessa pelo que seu lar tem de mais bonito (ao contrário de Scorsese, Spike Lee, etc), mas é sincero em seu amor.

Hannah e Suas Irmãs – (Woody Allen – 1986 – EUA)

Aqui sim, Woody Allen retrata as dúvidas do ser humano diante da vida e das grandes questões, equilibrando com perfeição drama e humor. Seus vários personagens frequentemente pensam uma coisa (em off) mas fazem outra – é muita engraçada a cena em que Michal Caine beija sua cunhada de surpresa. Woody Allen, como ator (em uma de suas melhores interpretações), interage pouco com o resto do elenco.

Seu personagem, um angustiado hipocondríaco, tem as melhores piadas do filme e sua busca pelo sentido da vida e provas da existência de vida após a morte serve como reflexo do que no fundo todos os outros personagens buscam. Pois é disso que se trata: seres humanos procurando uma direção e companhia para suportar incertezas (mesmo relações extraconjugais). Por não depender de ninguém, Hannah (Mia Farrow) é a última a entender isto. Grande filme!

Editor’s Note: This is part III in a series  of posts on The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby.  For part I of the series, scroll down or click here.  For part II, scroll down or click here.  As mentioned before the first post: I reveal many plot points from these films, so please watch them before reading.

In my previous posts on Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist, I touched upon some of the ways in which these films exploit the uncanny feelings we experience in relation to our own bodies, as well as how these films may have a comment on the ways in which contemporary power structures terrorize and appropriate the female body.   In this continuation of the larger discussion on Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist, I am interested in investigating how these films might also be mining some horror from the inherently uncomfortable disconnect we all have between our minds and our bodies.

In support of this notion, I will posit that the eeriest things in life are not often the things prowling around outside your home at night, nor are they the things coming down from outer space to apprehend unsuspecting sleepers, and certainly they are not pitchfork-wielding goblins reveling in a fiery orgy of sin below the earth.  On the contrary, the eeriest things in life often originate within the confines of our own skulls.  Throughout our history, we humans have made a habit of projecting the weird things going on in our own psyches outwardly, thereby attributing anomalous or unsavory behavior or phenomena to demons, witches and the like.  For instance, Mary Beth Norton makes a compelling argument in her 2002 book In the Devil’s Snare, that the Salem Witch Trials toward the end of the 17^th Century can be largely attributed to the anxieties and other psychological ramifications of frontier life, and specifically the fear of Native American attacks on European settlements.  The dark-skinned men lurking in the unfamiliar forests, along with the constant bloodshed that was inherent to that time and place, created a fear that was coupled with an already-present collective belief in witches, demons and unknown evils lurking in the shadows.  While these settlers did have actual danger prowling outside their homes, they were not aware that the reach of Native American influence reached through the walls of their homes into their minds, leading to irrational behavior and decision-making.  Those weren’t demons in the woods, those were people tired of being slaughtered and otherwise molested by strangely-dressed white people.

The point is that our own minds are the source of our greatest terrors.  And historically, as with the Salem Witch Trials example above, it has been  much easier to explain away the most uncomfortable or undesirable aspects of our lives with a little bit of supernatural belief and magical thinking.  The most powerful of these supernatural belief systems are the monotheistic religions which, although they are very much thriving to this day, are much more difficult to accept absolutely than they were, say, 500 years ago.  Magical thinking was a pat way to explain away events and circumstances that otherwise were baffling or anxiety-provoking.  With scientific knowledge skyrocketing in the latter half of the 19^th Century and through the 20^th Century, it became much more difficult to blame everything on witches, angels, demons and god(s).  In this vein, both Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist share a subtheme of religious faith and the loss thereof.  Father Karras, the central priest character in The Exorcist (although not the “Exorcist” referred to in the title), is wrestling with his own loss of faith.  Father Karras resides in a slummy area of Washington DC, with poverty and squalor constituting his day-to-day world and, along with this, he shares his small apartment with this ailing mother, who eventually is forced to move into a mental institution brimming with the psychologically anomalous.  Karras finds it difficult to rectify these realities with his Catholic beliefs and the demon possessing Regan exploits this fact.  In Rosemary’s Baby, one scene has the camera conspicuously linger on the April 8^th, 1966 cover of Time magazine.  The cover simply features the question “Is God Dead?” in bold red letters over a black background.  This was an actual cover of Time that was attached to an article that stated that the age of religion was essentially out the door.  Rosemary herself, when asked by Roman if she is religious, states, “I was brought up Catholic, but now I don’t know”.

Both films take as their setting a 20^th Century backdrop that is turning more toward medical, scientific and psychological knowledge to assist with problems of the body and mind instead of relying upon supernatural paradigms.  Until recent modern history, many of us have told ourselves stories about the ethereal soul and its dominion over the base, corrupted body.  The soul is said to be made of otherworldly material that is unfortunately tainted by the fleshy, gooey spaceship that it must possess in order to traverse through our inherently dirty world.  If one begins to accept the idea that we – every part of us – are of this world and then supplants the soul idea with this way of thinking, then the means by which one thinks of oneself and the world becomes dramatically altered.  This paradigmatic shift would be seismically uncomfortable, and it is my contention that Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist place themselves firmly in the fault line created from just such a shift.

In his wonderfully entertaining 2007 film The Pervert’s Guide to the Cinema, Slavoj Zizek shares some of his thoughts on modern cinema from a philosophical perspective that is rooted in the ideas of famed French psychoanalytic thinker Jacques Lacan.  In his film, Zizek pontificates on Ridley Scott’s Alien and claims that this film derives its power, particularly regarding the iconic scene in which an alien baby hatches from the stomach of its human host, from the idea that humans are essentially alien intelligences with a human body as a host.  We humans are uncomfortable in our own skins because of a fundamental disconnect; we tolerate our bodies, but we must also misrecognize our bodies as something different from ourselves in order to get by.  This disconnect is much easier to handle when one has, for instance, the Christian notion of the soul which advises comfortingly that there is no need to worry, that it’s right to fear your body, and that it’s really okay that you will die someday, for everything will be taken care of because your personality is actually not of this world to begin with.  For psychoanalysis as well as for Christianity, we are essentially ghosts inside a machine, or aliens inside of spaceships.  Christianity tells us that our alien souls will someday rejoin the Mothership (Fathership?)  in the sky, whereas psychoanalysis offers no such happy ending.  For psychoanalysis, life is weird and then you die.

Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist generate some wonderful creepiness by interjecting antiquated notions of Soul/Body and Good/Evil into a modern, scientifically-advanced setting.  One can have every priest and psychologist on call, but life will never cease to be strange.  It’s unfortunate that this basic concept is lost on many contemporary horror filmmakers.  These filmmakers spend too much time on computer graphics and convoluted story lines and not enough time looking into the mirror and contemplating the stranger staring back.

Note: I’m thinking there’s one more post on these two films on the way.  I’m thinking the next post will be about domestic spaces and antagonistic furniture in Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist.

Daily  News & Analysis

Wednesday, November 18, 2009 4:39:00 PM
David Lynch to shoot film about TM guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in India
ANI

Oscar nominated director David Lynch will make a film about Transcendental Meditation (TM) guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, according to reports. He will reportedly visit India next month in this connection.

This documentary film about the life and teachings and knowledge of Maharishi will involve interviews with people, including a 97-year man associated with him, reports suggest.

David Keith Lynch, 63, has been attempting to introduce TM in schools globally. The Guardian, British daily newspaper from London, described Lynch as “the most important director of this era.”

Welcoming Lynch to India for this new venture, acclaimed Indo-American statesman Rajan Zed, in a statement in Nevada (USA) today, urged world filmmakers to explore many finer and deeper things India offered, instead of just focusing on poverty and crime.

Zed, who is a chairperson of Indo-American Leadership Confederation, pointed out that planet’s most multidimensional country India had snowcapped mountains, palm-fringed and sun-washed beaches, glorious temples, colourful festivals, rich philosophy and spirituality, abundant historical sites, wildlife safaris, recharging treks, historic trade routes, cultural wealth, etc.

Maharishi, who died last year at an age of about 91, introduced TM technique worldwide, and wished to change the world with it.

He initiated ‘The Beatles’ and was associated with various celebrities like American rockers ‘The Beach Boys’, musician Mick Jagger, hairdresser Vidal Sassoon, Golden Globe winner Mia Farrow (Rosemary’s Baby), etc.

He reportedly established about one thousand TM centres worldwide and had about four million followers.

© 2005-2009 Diligent Media Corporation Ltd. All rights reserved

- por Luiz Carlos Freitas

Um filme realmente estranho, mas no melhor sentido que possa se atribuir à essa palavra. Ao mesmo tempo que é de uma poesia e beleza indescritíveis, tem um peso em alguns momentos insuportáveis. O filme é pessimista, uma grande alegoria à sujeira humana por meio de um conto de fadas.

Aqui, o mestre Allen nos transporta à vida de Cecília (Mia Farrow), uma moça simples, com um péssimo emprego, um marido que a maltrata e a explora, vivendo às suas custas. Além disso, o filme se passa em plena Grande Depressão pós-crise de 29, o que torna toda a situação ainda mais angustiante, haja visto que o clima de pessimismo imperava na vida de todos, e não só de Cecília. E, para completar, ela também perde o emprego (é, realmente, nada tem dado muito certo). Entretanto, ela ainda mantinha sua única diversão: ir todas as noites ao cinema assistir ao mesmo filme, “A Rosa Púrpura do Cairo”, estrelado por Gil Sheperd (Jeff Daniels), que vive Tom Baxter, o protagonista que é a perfeita representação do homem dos seus sonhos.

Então, num belo dia após várias visitas ao cinema, Baxter, encantado pelos olhos de Cecilia, resolve (para espanto de todos) sair da tela do cinema e fugir com sua nova amada para viver o que há de melhor no mundo real. É, isso mesmo, você não leu errado. Durante uma das exibições do filme, Baxter simplesmente pára e resolve sair da tela do cinema para o mundo real. À partir daí, a lógica “foge” do roteiro como Baxter do filme. Há um certo alívio cômico (que faz-se presente por todo o longa, mesmo nos momentos mais tensos), damos bastante risada com os inconvenientes da ‘fuga’ de Baxter, como o resto do elenco do filme desesperado sem poder dar continuidade ao roteiro, os demais “Baxter’s” querendo sair das telas em salas de exibição pelo resto do país, entre outras coisas totalmente surreais. Porém, o foco permanece sempre no casal e nas descobertas de Baxter sobre o nosso mundo.

Tudo isto, na verdade, acaba sendo uma grande alegoria para nossa visão e conceitos de um “ideal” de mundo, de vida, sempre envolto pelos paradoxos e contrastes dessa idealização. A fuga de um personagem fictício para o mundo real, este achando que ‘aqui’ é onde se encontra a felicidade, onde tudo é belo e maravilhoso. E sendo guiado justamente por alguém que queria estar ‘do outro lado’, longe dessa realidade pesada, crua. Então, com a chegada de quando Gil Sheperd, interpretando o ator que vive Baxter nas telas (Jeff Daniels em dois papéis), que a “mensagem” do filme começa a ganhar forma.

Cada uma dessas vertentes de ideais é representada por um dos personagens centrais da trama. Baxter é um verdadeiro personagem da fase clássica do cinema, completamente estereotipado – o Daniels demonstra tal personagem com uma atuação bastante “canastra”, inclusive, bem enfática ao arqueótipo do “galã” – e carregado de valores “belos” (não seria incoerente citar que ele poderia ter saído de um filme do Capra, inclusive). A ele, ficou o cargo de representar os idealistas, pessoas carregadas de conceitos de valores inatingíveis, sempre otimistas. Já Sheperd (assim como Cecília) representa o mundo real, mostrando-se tanto mais frio, racional, quanto “sacana” em dados momentos (até seu porte, trejeitos e modo de vestir são diferentes, mais imponentes).

Baxter é o que há de mais encantador no filme. Na cena do restaurante, por exemplo, ele tenta pagar um jantar caríssimo para Cecília com dinheiro falso. Quando vê que não consegue, que seu ‘dinheiro cenográfico’ só vale em cena, ele simplesmente se levanta e fogem. Em tese, ele deveria ficar ciente disso, mas novamente, algumas cenas após, lá está ele dando o mesmo dinheiro a um mendigo, e com pleno olhar de satisfação por estar ajudando a um necessitado, como se não lembrasse que aquele dinheiro de nada adiantaria. E é essa persistência dele em querer manter-se ‘puro’ (mesmo que sem saber disso) que vai contrastar tanto com Sheperd.

Os diálogos entre ele (Sheperd) e Cecília revelam que ele nada mais é que uma pessoa normal, um ator com certas ambições profissionais, que tem medo e receios, que conhece a vida e sabe o quão as coisas podem ser difíceis de verdade, ou seja, o total oposto de seu personagem.

E isso, de certo modo, encanta Cecília. Ele não tem a magia do outro, mas era alguém real, que parecia com ela. Daí fica a dúvida. Porém, ela não tem muito tempo para pensar nisso. Há o reencontro com Baxter e, num dos momentos mais mágicos e belos do filme, ele a leva para dentro do filme, onde a presenteia com vestidos caríssimos, levando-a para jantar em um restaurante finíssimo, cercada de grandes celebridades, todos ricos e pomposos. Pela primeira vez na vida, Cecília teve uma experiência digna de seus maiores ídolos do cinema.

Todavia, essa noite de encanto era apenas o prólogo ao momento mais difícil de sua vida. À volta, Cecilia se encontra frente à uma escolha entre seus dois novos amores, entre a mágica e fantasia com os quais tanto sonhara e a segurança de uma realidade difícil, mas ainda assim real. A escolha seria fácil, em tese, afinal qual de nós pensaria duas vezes antes de cair de cabeça num mundo perfeito onde tudo é puro glamour? Mas ali estavam os pequenos detalhes entre os dois que aos poucos nos foram jogados na trama.

Na luta com Monk (Dany Aiello), marido de Cecilia, Tom não se machucou, pois por ser fictício, ele não sangrava, sentia dor (ele sequer “despenteava”). Ele era virgem, nunca havia “feito amor”, pois nesses momentos, “a tela escurecia e a cena cortava”, o fade os consumia. Ele era impossibilitado de sentir qualquer prazer além dos que estavam no roteiro. Eram limitações com as quais Cecilia haveria de lidar. Do outro lado, Sheperd, como dito antes, real, e por isso tão capaz quanto.

Cecilia pensa e escolhe ir com ‘o real’ e, numa das cenas mais tocantes e “pesadas” do filme (e que sempre me leva às lágrimas), ela profere a fala que resume o que Woody Allen quis dizer aqui:

“- No seu mundo as coisas sempre acabam bem. Sou uma pessoa de verdade.. Não importa o quanto eu me sinta tentada, devo escolher o mundo real.“

A sua vida difícil num mundo imerso em dor e pessimismo (vide o contexto da época onde a trama se desenvolve) a havia ensinado que não tinha como melhorar. Ela se sentia condicionada àquele sofrimento e duvidava de tudo que não fosse a dor. A esperança era duvidosa.

Tom volta ao seu ‘mundo’ e Cecilia se prepara para fugir com Sheperd para Hollywood, onde poderia ter o melhor de dois mundos, da fantasia do cinema e da segurança da realidade.

Aqui, a crueldade desse “conto de fadas” se manifesta em seu ponto máximo: Sheperd não está esperando por ela. Após terminada sua missão de fazer com que seu personagem retornasse ao filme, partiu no primeiro avião de volta ao ’seu mundo’. Cecilia abandonara sua casa em busca de um novo romance que não a esperou. Sem o marido (que mesmo um traste, ainda era o dono da casa – e, após tantas humilhações, não a queria mais por lá), estava sozinha e completamente perdida. A única coisa que lhe restava era dinheiro suficiente para uma última entrada no cinema.

O filme não era o mesmo, um novo havia substituído o ‘problemático’, dessa vez um musical com Fred Astaire. Cecilia senta e começa a olhar pasma para o casal de protagonistas dançando. À medida que a cena se desenrola, vemos Sheperd no avião, com um olhar perdido e uma expressão de tristeza. O foco volta ao olhar admirado de Cecilia e os créditos sobem.

Realmente, é um final carregado de pessimismo e que soaria um tanto quanto incoerente perante a mágica e beleza de toda a história. Mas não seria esse o castigo de Cecilia por não se arriscar? Somos levados a crer que, por mais que busquemos um refúgio em uma fantasia, sempre estamos presos a essa realidade assombrosa. Devemos buscar um equilíbrio que Cecilia não tinha. As sucessivas idas ao cinema para ver o mesmo filme demostravam seu desespero em se agarrar a alguma coisa boa, pois esta sabia que ao término da exibição, ela voltaria a ser uma fraca submissa e que, justamente por isso, havia perdido a grande oportunidade de sua vida.

Tudo bem, o mundo pode parecer terrível (e às vezes eu concordo que pareça – e seja), mas será que isso não é culpa nossa? Temos, sim, todo o direito de sonhar, assim como Cecilia sonhou. Contudo, entre tantos “direitos”, devemos levar mesmo até os extremos o de sermos covardes como ela foi? Ou será que aquela covardia é algo ao qual estamos condicionados, algo do qual não se pode fugir e que nem deve ser chamado de covardia propriamente dita, apenas uma reação natural ao nosso mundo?

Isso (e me perdoem a expressão clichê que virá a seguir) é algo que somente cada um de nós pode dizer, afinal temos essa liberdade. O próprio Allen deixou isso claro, fez esse ‘balanço’ no roteiro, equilibrando a fala citada há pouco, extremamente pessimista, com um desfecho belíssimo e com um toque de esperança (e que também sempre me leva às lágrimas à cada vez que revejo – e há vezes que coloco o DVD somente para ver esse trechinho):

“-Adorei cada minuto ao seu lado e nunca vou esquecer daquela noite que passamos juntos na cidade.
- Adeus!”

Num lance de gênio, Allen deixa em nossas mãos definir qual a escolha de seus personagens. Ou alguém pode dizer com certeza se a expressão de tristeza no olhar de Sheperd no avião era de dor por ter perdido um grande amor que acabara de surgir ou por simples remorso por ter usado da pureza de Cecilia? E o olhar admirado dela nos momentos finais, assistindo ao filme do Astaire, seria uma expressão de tristeza, de desgosto pela oportunidade perdida ou mais um encantamento, uma outra fuga que ali surgira com o novo ‘astro’ em cartaz?

A única certeza que fica é a de que os sonhos por si só não se sustentam, esta passada pelo destino de Baxter (personagem que representa o idealismo e a pureza cega e inocente dos sonhadores), em outra cena sublime: abandonado por sua amada, volta ao filme, o restante do elenco finalmente pode ir à “festa no Copacabana” e ele, sozinho, suspira e, de cabeça baixa, sai de cena (e mais uma vez me pego chorando).

De resto, se Cecília e Sheperd foram felizes em suas escolhas, assim como o equilíbrio entre nossos sonhos e nossas possibilidades, cabe a nós decidir.

5/5

Ficha técnica: A Rosa Púrpura do Cairo (The Purple Rose of Cairo) 1985, EUA – Dir.: Woody Allen – Elenco: Mia Farrow, Jeff Daniels, Danny Aiel lo

I am not a big Woody Allen fan; in fact most of his movies are dung heap material. Allen’s voice is whiny and annoying, and the “I’m eccentric and Jewish” routine gets old fast.  However, there is one particular piece that borders between not crap and a rose: Bananas.  A parody of Castro and the Cuban revolution, most of this movie is actually quite funny and entertaining.  Perhaps the best parts are the cameo appearances by Howard Cosell who applied his trademark “telling it like it is” sports commentary technique outside its typical milieu and into the realm of banana republic assignations and the consummation of the marriage between Allen and Farrow at the end of the movie.  If only Allen could have worked Cosell into his other movies, maybe he would now have a career worth looking back upon. We might even have given him a pass on the Sun Yi episode. As it is, I am left with the impression that Allen has still not fully explored the comic potential of the Cuban Revolution. This movie was good, but in the hands of a Mike Judge (Office Space, Idiocracy) or a Blake Edwards (the Pink Panther collection), it could have been great.done

If you want to seem like some quasi intellectual to impress a date or someone from the chardonnay drinking and chicken salad eating crowd you might do well to bring this old dog out of retirement.  The bottom line is that Bananas was not crap but not quite a rose either.

Estuve viendo el otro día La Semilla del Diablo. Me sigue pareciendo impresionante la capacidad que tiene la película para dar mal rollo mostrando sólo a una Mia Farrow con cara de necesitar un puchero dando vueltas por un apartamento de lo más aséptico (la música, que sí que es típica de una película de terror, le quita un poco de mérito, pero aún así impresiona).

Hay cosas que se ven de forma distinta con todo lo que hay montado con Polanski ahora mismo. Por ejemplo, la escena en la que John Cassavetes le dice a Mia Farrow que le ha echado un polvo mientras estaba durmiendo, que se parece bastante a una violación lo mires como lo mires, pero que ahora te recuerda a según qué cosas. El nivel de sumisión del personaje de Farrow es revelador, algo así como lo que pasa al ver Mad Men.

En la última escena de la película (uno de esos finales clásicos, tipo El Planeta de los Simios) hay un momento en que un puñado de satanistas se ponen a gritar vivas al demonio. La escena pierde un poco de fuerza porque los satanistas parecen, mayormente, recién sacados de una excursión del Imserso (quitando al japonés, que se ha perdido de otra excursión, cámara de fotos incorporada).

Aunque bien pensado no hay mucho motivo para imaginarse a un satanista como un señor con túnica negra y las cejas a lo Zapatero, o como Santiago Segura en El Día de la Bestia. Lo más normal sería que intentaran robarle clientes al enemigo, porque primero hay que creer, y luego decidir en qué (o lo que es lo mismo, te tienen que gustar los refrescos para ya luego ser de Coca Cola o de Pepsi). Al final habría de todo, desde familias donde fuera tradición hasta gente que se arrimara para sacar beneficio, pero lo normal sería que el satánico medio, el miembro de base, se pareciera más bien a una de las abuelas que van a misa los domingos por la mañana.

I love horror films, and I’d been meaning to watch this classic for quite some time.  Netflix is so good for making you finally get around to seeing movies you’ve always meant to see.

Summary:
Rosemary and her actor husband move into a new apartment despite protestations from a friend that the building has a bit of a history of odd things happening.  Their new neighbors are a friendly, elderly couple.  In fact, Rosemary finds them to be a bit too friendly, but her husband likes them and insists the friendship be kept up.  Soon Rosemary is pregnant, but there is something odd about her pregnancy she can’t quite put her finger on until it is too late.

Review:
This is the type of horror story I love.  Something sinister lurking in the background of the main character’s life.  Everyone around her telling her she’s the crazy one or that she’s paranoid with only the main character and the viewer seeing what’s really going on.  This gives such a different scared vibe than the more typical, oh we’re in a scary hotel room for one night ahhh.

The cinematography has that classic 1960s feel that I personally love.  Maybe there’s a technical term for it, I don’t know, but it’s that awkward shot.  Instead of every shot being perfectly clean cut like in modern films, the actors aren’t always in center and focused.  People are off to the side.  It gives almost a mockumentary film feeling without any of those staged interviews.

Mia Farrow’s acting is truly excellent.  Her facial expressions show the wheels turning in her head even when other characters are in the room with Rosemary.  You can see how Rosemary senses something is wrong, yet she isn’t sure what exactly.

Ruth Gordon, playing the elderly neighbor woman, also offers up an excellent acting job.  She plays to perfection that horribly annoying elderly woman who everyone else finds delightful but you just want to stop touching your throw pillows.  It may seem like an easy part to play, but it is a fine line to walk, and she executes it perfectly.

I think what kept me from loving the movie as opposed to just really liking it were the odd dream sequences.  These too have a classic 1960s feel, but not in a good way.   They feel fake, and jerked me out of the world I had been sucked into.  I think most of the dream sequences could have been done without.

There is no way to discuss the social commentary this movie makes without giving away a massive spoiler, so let me just say that women’s agency is central to the plot of this film and is one of the main reasons I liked it.

If you enjoy horror, 1960s cinematography, or subtle social commentary, you will enjoy this film.

4 out of 5 stars

Source: Netflix

Editor’s Note: This is part II in a series  of posts on The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby.  For part I of the series, scroll down or click here.  As mentioned before the first post: I reveal many plot points from these films, so please watch them before reading.

Regan MacNeil’s bodyin The Exorcist and Rosemary Woodhouse’s body in Rosemary’s Baby are commandeered by male entities who exploit these female bodies for their own self-benefit. (If nothing else, these films prove that the devil is indeed a Republican. As if this were in question.) Regan and her mother find themselves abandoned by the male-dominated team of doctors who further abuse Regan’s body through a serious of invasive testing. Chris MacNeil must then turn to the Catholic Church, which although having a history and a present of oppressing women, sends priests to their home: men who are removed from the traditional male-as-sexual-predator-toward-women role. These men are supposed to exist asexually, and therefore are perhaps the only ones who can save Regan from her plight. Yes, I understand that Catholic priests have a habit of sexually preying upon young non-women, but we’ll leave that aside for now.

In Rosemary’s Baby, young, early-20s Rosemary Woodhouse realizes that her husband and the neighbors around her are conspiring to exploit her fertile body and maternal drives for their own ends. When she begins to piece together the puzzle, she runs to her original obstetrician, Dr. Hill, for safety. She does this at the behest of her girlfriends, who console her in the kitchen during a party. Rosemary’s doctor, Dr. Sapirstein, who comes recommended by her nosy and invasive elderly neighbors, has advised Rosemary to ignore the intense abdominal pain that she has been experiencing for weeks. When one of her girlfriends pleads with Rosemary to see a new doctor, another friend chimes in: “Yeah, some doctor besides that… that… nut!”

This kitchen scene comes as a welcome reprieve to the creepiness that completely saturates most of the film. Rosemary’s girlfriends are concerned for their friend’s well-being, are not dismissive of Rosemary’s complaints and ultimately are among the few benevolent figures in Rosemary’s life. But alas, the kitchen scene is a set-up. After this scene, Rosemary begins to exert some agency within her situation, and runs away from her husband, the neighbors and Dr. Sapirstein. She makes it to Dr. Hill, and in maybe the most harrowing scene in the film, Dr. Hill reveals himself to be more aligned with the male-dominated power structure than with the needs and concerns of his female patient. Once again, the creepiness of this film comes from the focus upon already existent aspects of our day-to-day lives.

Rosemary’s husband’s name is Guy, a name which points to the fact that this man is not an anomalous and horrible person. He is just your average “guy”, an unthinking man who, if given the chance, would sign away his wife’s body for his own selfish gains. At the end of the film, Guy offers these words in the form of an apology after it has been revealed that Guy allowed his Satan-worshipping neighbors access to Rosemary’s body so that Satan could impregnate Rosemary with the anti-Christ fetus (you know, your average marriage snafus): “They promised me you wouldn’t be hurt and you haven’t been…really. I mean, supposing you had the baby and you lost it? Wouldn’t that be the same? And we’re getting so much in return, Ro.” Guy’s flippancy toward his wife is truly terrifying and the viewer, at this point, has seen many signs of it. Even before we begin to piece-together the scenario along with Rosemary, we see Guy give his wife dismissive pats on the ass, pooh-pooh her suspicions as resulting from the “pre-partum crazies”, and most scarily, admit to fornicating with Rosemary’s unconscious body — an admission that we discover is a cover-up for what really happened.  After the otherwise lovely night when Rosemary is raped by the devil (something Rosemary doesn’t realize until much later in the film), Rosemary wakes up and this back-and-forth with her husband ensues:

Rosemary: I dreamed someone was raping me, I think it was someone inhuman.
Guy: Thanks a lot. Whatsa matter?
Rosemary: Nothing.
Guy: I didn’t want to miss the night.
Rosemary: We could have done it this morning or tonight. Last night wasn’t the only split-second.
Guy: I was a little bit loaded myself, you know.
Rosemary: You… you had me while I was out?
Guy: It was kinda fun in a necrophile sort of way.

Rosemary shrugs off Guy’s excuse for allegedly having sex with her lifeless body, which is a very scary thought in itself — even without the devil business.  This is to me is the scariest aspect of Rosemary’s Baby — the utter helplessness that Rosemary experiences in relation to the whims of men.

When Dr. Hill opens the door and lets in Guy and Dr. Sapirstein, Dr. Sapirstein has this to say, with Guy standing sheepishly at his side: “Come with us quietly, Rosemary. Don’t argue or make a scene. Because if you say anything more about witches or witchcraft, we’re gonna be forced to take you to a mental hospital. You don’t want that, do you?”  In many modern works of fiction, the mental hospital becomes the last viable option for men in dealing with women who are for whatever reason not fitting into their system.  In Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, Esther Greenwood is given shock treatment and forced to spend much of her time in mental facilities because of her inability to behave “appropriately” for a young woman in her time and place.  Lisbeth Salander in the Steig Larsson’s Millenium series is institutionalized because of the threat she poses to the patriarchal powers that be (indeed, the Swedish title of Larsson’s first book translates as Men Who Hate Women).

In The Exorcist as well, the team of doctors strongly encourage Chris MacNeil to have their daughter institulationalized because of her strange disorder and their inability to properly label and deal with her problem.  While The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby utilize demonic possession in their films as a means of eliciting terror, it is through showcasing the status of women in society outside of the movie theatre that really makes these chills hit home.

Stay tuned for more on The Exorcist and Rosemary’s Baby! In the meantime, don’t forget to say your prayers.