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Posts Tagged ‘texas’


i drove a toyota corolla that isn’t mine into the texas state capital and before thirty hours were up I managed to slip in four films with my future roommate, combine that with a shot of guy talk and suddenly you know exactly how a well put together mise-en-scene can make 103 degrees outside seem like an early autumn.

lists should always be questioned yet scanning the top lines of one-through-tens is often our most efficient way of becoming conversational masters on a given subject without doing the back-work.

that being said, rent a couple of these, and just make sure your air conditioner is up for a challenge.  

i can guarantee this is back-work you won’t regret.

à boute de souffle (1960) - jean seberg 

if the stripped shirts don’t get you, that smile will.  if you ever wondered why the rates of high school female french students with pixie cuts is higher than their spanish counter parts, don’t necessarily look to amélie.  if starting a film movement, 1960s paris, a live-free-die-young mentality, and a bogie reference to melt hearts isn’t enough to get you watching, i’ll tell you this: at the end of the film, you’ll know why “new york harold tribune” could be a wet dream. (tps)

2046 (2004) - faye wong

i first remember faye wong in chungking express leaning over a counter and whispering “chicken salad.” she had me right there.  wong kar wai is in the very good habit of bolstering his already sumptuous images with actors who somehow manage to still be the focus of our attention.  wong takes on a number of roles in wai’s hk tribute- the dream android, the coy mistress, the unrequited lover- but all of that seem accessory to her precise touch and her perfect form.  the film tends to open around her, leaving enough rope for most actors to hang by, but finding wong unperturbed; she steps with a daring confidence through each vignette, serving as the welcome catalyst to a film never about her, but always reliant. (tvs)

how to steal a million (1966) – audrey hepburn

if her father in the film traffics replicas of art and beauty, he definitely created one statuette that will be good for the ages.  the lace clad legs, in my book, could get away with far more than just larceny. hepburn, though always worthy of admiration, adds in a sultry touch not necessarily worthy of an oscar nod, but definitely some toe curling. (tps)

une femme est une femme (1961) – anna karina

somehow godard’s most playful, uninhibited, and well-executed work is now relegated to the back-burner of this prodigious legacy.  but nowhere in the jlg canon can you find so perfect a symbiosis between the new wave star and his chosen muse.  karina’s performances go straight to the heart of what 1960s france has to offer a viewer- whether  running through the louvre or upholding the subversive element, giving androids a better name or singing the strip tease, karina is an exuberant and vivacious screen presence, addictive even to her most subtle pout.  she’s is on top of her game in femme, between her sailor suit, burnt roast, and book amalgams you’ll have a hard time making your first viewing your only one.  (tvs)

manon des sources (1986) – emmanuelle béart

as much as the 200 year old farm house and always nutritious mediterranean sun draws me back to the south of france, if this film were all i knew of my beloved country, i’d perhaps love it just as much. there must be something about french vowels that can make mouths shaped just so.  you gotta give it to any woman who can make a sequel more memorable than its first starring the french film god.  granted, this film came out in 1986 and should be every farm aide’s fantasy, just hopefully not taken to the extreme taken in the film (fabric should not be used that way), and even after 20 + years, the woman has shown some staying power.  still a french vogue cover girl (which often means a lot more skin than its tame american counter part), check out what an h&m ad looks like in france. (tps)

leri, oggi, domani (1963) – sophia loren

if you’re ever feeling fortunate, stop.  recollect the year 1963, remember than in it the insufferable marcello mastroaini scored not once, but twice on this list.  shortly after his stint tooling round with the lovely ms cardianale shotgun in his roadster marcello hopped the train to meet up with de sica and dive in to his next assignment: barking in bed while sophia loren gave him a tour of the room.  loren masters each sequence of the film (yesterday, today, and tomorrow for us inglesi) delivering with verve as the sympathetic call girl, the flighty superstar, and (especially!) and indomitable populist matron.  she throws herself into each sequence with a contagious abandon that leaves you at turns stunned, breathless. (tvs)

blow (2001) penelope cruz

hunter s. thompson, another face if jd, once said, “i hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they’ve always worked for me.”  thompson had it all, including the tragic ending, as did george jung in blow, with one added benefit… take a torrid affair between two of the darkest and smokiest out there and add in a few flash cuts of whips, cuffs and chains, and suddenly tragic endings seem oh so utterly worth it. (tps)

8 1/2 (1963) – claudia cardinale

the only time i believed a director when he told me he was in love came somewhere around the 19-second mark of this trailer when felini brings us claudia, the ostensible missing link in guido anselmi’s doomed production: the vestal white, the perfect smile, the evident restraint of guido’s reaction gives clear signal that our boy is done.  but cardinale would have that effect on about 60% of the human population.  her role is small, making a total of four appearances, but when she’s onscreen you remember every crevice, hoping in some way that a more detailed topography of the image will keep her there a second longer.  cardinale, in a few photogenic minutes, steals the movie right from under felini’s nose, and to his endless credit, the maestro doesn’t seem to mind one bit. (tvs)

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Off to Texas.

Tonight I’ve got a redeye to Texas.

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Reasons.

Talking with a friend in Paris before I left, he said, “TEXAS?!?  You’re moving from PARIS to TEXAS!?!”

And I said Yes.

And he said But why?!

“There are the reasons that I tell and then there’s a girl.”

“Some girl?”

And I said that no, not just some girl and he said that he would never give up a city like this for some girl.  And I asked What would you give up?  And he said his car.

“You don’t have a car,” I said.

Before I left, I had to write letters to cancel my cell phone and my metro card.  I quit three jobs, threw away 30 pounds of stuff to fit into bags and took a plane across an ocean.  And after a while, after a few frustrations, after a few too many last coffees, I lost track of the reasons.  A decision was made and I was just following through.  Callused, I’d call it.

“That or TV,” he said.

“You don’t watch TV.”

And then I thought What would I give up for love?  My books?  Those can go.  My ability to read?  There’s a tough one.  Tea?  Even tougher.  Okay, well… But a city, even a Paris of a city, I’ll  just say that I’ve begun practicing my y’alls.

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writing hasn’t been happening much lately which has a direct correlation with my state of unrest.  summer is coming and i’m leaving paris soon right at the moment when i gave my first completely unselfish hug.  i watched a lecture today about living forever and the developing the technology to do it.  and people asked, “wouldn’t it be boring?” and out of all the things life is, i don’t know that i will ever again find it boring.  arthur, the nine-year-old, says often the same thing in the morning when I tell him he can’t play the computer before school.  he says, “but it’s so boring here.” and i don’t get it, with the books on the shelves, the light coming in through the windows, my own two feet on the ground, bones, muscles, standing up, lying down, sitting and waiting and watching.  yet for me, living forever, or at least, for another hundred years requires a garden.  and odd to me still how things grow.  i don’t grow with sunshine and water and i don’t know why.  

it’s a few days into spring and i feel like summer is coming soon.  and that’s a big deal.  

kate used to talk about legitimacy.  ”i want to achieve legitimacy,” she’d say.  or maybe she never really said it that way.  and i once thought that the only way to obtain that was through world travel and a constant melancholy and thought that somehow, happiness was a lesser emotion.  i had hemingway’s “happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing i know,” in my head.  

and now, no.  happiness is happiness, and it feels good.  it’s worth chasing.  it’s worth forgetting things over.  it’s worth letting rest anxieties and fears to let happen.  and melancholy, too, is worth those moments of reflection, looking out at how it all is, and thinking that either it is here to stay, or that you are quickly losing it.

i just know for now, i am leaving Paris.  i am disquieted and comforted.  there will be more projects and more stories, so many more stories to come.

i have an assignment to sleep under a texas sky.  i have an assignment to start a lemonade stand outside a chicago subway.  i have an assignment to jump into a murky pond near the abraham lincoln memorial museum in southern illinois.  i have an assignment to hike through southern colorado to a place that makes more sense to both of us, wherever that is.  and new york, the upper east side to brooklyn, and chocolate, and long white white hair with big eyes.  i have an assignment to grow some eggplant, to sundry some tomatoes.  

jeremy said today that we’ll pitch a tent in our new living room.

and i’m going to love hard and breathe and eat lots and lots of bitter greens,

 

nice hearty ones, the greens i mean.

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