Friday afternoon, 6:07 p.m.
The street didn't look like that a couple of weeks ago, all broken and shit. The roads of Rhode Island are in a perpetual state of catastrophic disrepair, thank you ice and snow.
I didn't write yesterday. It was Chocolate Day. I don't eat much chocolate, because a) my teeth are too lousy, and b) I'm not actually that fond of it. I don't hate chocolate. Occasionally, I'm in the mood. But it doesn't affect me the way it seems to affect so many. So, for Chocolate Day, Spooky and I went to Warwick for a movie. And then we went to Newbury Comics, where I unloaded a couple of recent CD disappointments (the latest by NIN and Arcade Fire). I picked up music I knew wouldn't disappoint, Patsy Cline and the Beatles. Then we had to stop by Trader Joe's, then Eastside Market. I stood outside in the cold and the sun. Truthfully, frigid wind or not, it was good just to be out of the House.
When I am dead, people will talk about how I preferred to keep to myself, to hide behind my keyboard, and so forth. And they will be utterly full of shit.
Three movies yesterday:
1) George Clooney's The Monuments Men (2014): No, this isn't great cinema. To quote Colin Covert of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, "This is a sturdy, old-school, big-scale Greatest Generation war movie. It's great escapism." Precisely. Obviously, a lot of people either don't get that or don't like old war movies the way I do. It was fun, and I didn't care that none of the actors actually bothered to act, except Cate Blanchett, who can't seem to help herself. It was a peculiarly sweet film, and I badly needed that.
2) Adam Green's Frozen (2010): I saw a reviewer say something like, "This film does for skiing what Jaws did for swimming." Which is a fair assessment. Or maybe I should let it stand on its own merits, which are considerable.
3) Fabrice Du Welz' Vinyan (2008): On the fifth, after seeing Magic Magic, I talked briefly about films that "liminal space between civilization and the forest primeval, between sanity and lunacy." Well, I'd not expected to encounter another one so soon. But Vinyan is just that, and it's a stunning and criminally unappreciated film. Before last night, I'd not even heard of it. Or I'd forgotten I had. We're once again in the territory of The Red Tree. It was the sort of film that made me wish I had an actual interest in writing about film. Then maybe I wouldn't keep writing sentences about this film and erasing them. Maybe I'd know what to say. Something more than comparisons with Joseph Conrad, Suddenly Last Summer, Antichrist, Apocalypse Now and, as Spooky noted, Nicolas Roeg's Don't Look Now (1973). See it.
The Way Things Are Going,