Daddy, Will Jesus Touch Me In His Special Way again tonight?

Thx Goatpuss!

Best Movie of the Year so far.

It had already been praised and pimped by dolorians and igorians but damn, what I just saw, easily exceeded all expectations. The boys were far too modest. I probably won't see a finer movie this year than The Squid and The Whale.

And Noah Baumbach is slowly becoming one of the best contemporary screenwriters around. I had somewhat anticipated that he was probably a crucial factor behind the greatness of The Life Aquatic, the first Wes Anderson I truly adored and also, not coincidentally obviously, the first collaboration between Anderson and Baumbach.

And I guess The Squid and The Whale proves this point. The scenes in itself, the writing and the dialogue are of such grandeur, that one can only be amazed that it doesn't stop there. The acting (Daniels and the two kids my god!) and Baumbauch's directions are impeccable as well. This film feels like a postmodern The Graduate or something, there is such a nostalghic seventies quality feeling to it (obviously the music contributes here majorly) that it feels as if the film got released in the wrong era. And that's meant as a big compliment.

Anyway I was watching the extras on the dvd and I would normally try and shoot the writer pouting these words but with this film, it is just true. So go and rent it as soon as you can and me, I should asap check out Kicking & Screaming.

While writing the movie I was wondering from the beginning: Is this a movie really? Because this is something that’s more been done as a novel, or – is it memoirs? Would this be something I can get made? Is it a practical thing? Itr was more just sort of an anxiety I had about it. And I think getting past that point and then just pushing further and then getting more confidence about it, that's what really made me the difference for me.

I got more confidence to really find these scenes in some less obvious ways. I was trying to figure out how how to make a movie that is more of an experience in some ways rather than a kind of, you know, plot driven, or sort of traditional three acts.

And it was about having confidence in those moments. That those moments, if truly drawn, would carry a movie.

Gitarrmongot

A little tiny Swedish gem movie I picked up after a very gentle recommendation and I must say some of the scenes really took me by suprise. It's a very minimalistic, lowbudget movie, pieced together like a mosaic, with a static camera the whole time. Somewhere between Jackass and a Roy Andersson movie, although it is only along the lines of the latter as far as rythm and approach goes. It lacks the surrealistic visual greatness of a Songs from the Second Floor, nor are all the scenes intrinsically on to par with each other.

And that's exactly where Gitarrmongot fails in my opinion: you could have easily deleted quite a few scenes without anyone ever noticing it. Especially the second act drags on from time to time and you have no clue where the story is going to. Also it's such a pity they filmed most on DV because the aesthetic qualities of the movie are quite poor at times (although some shots are really good and seem to have been shot on film, i guess this was due to financial reasons).

Still, despite the more negative things one could say about it, this movie has a genuine heart and there are such fabulously written scenes who rank among the best I have seen this year, that I'd recommend anyone to check it out. The bikers, the lion sleeps tonight, the spinning car, the bikes, the russian roulette, you'll be soon laughing it up as well. Utterly great, tack Gustav!

Of Fallen Angels and Living Dead

Beloved CrissCrass is once again awing us with his Asian explorations. Quickly hop over there to read and see the beauty of it all.

Owwshit. Bless You Dear Robert. May You Rest in Peace.

All that road going & all the people dreaming in the immensity of it

All the stories I wrote were true 'cause I believed in what I saw. I was travelling west one time at the junction of the state line of Colorado - its arid western one, and the state line of poor Utah. I saw in the clouds huge and massed above the fearing golden desert of even fall - the Great Image of God with four fingers pointed straight at me. Through halos and rolls and gold foals that were like the existence of the gleaming spear in His right hand which sayeth c'mon boy, go thou across the ground. Go moan for man. Go moan. Go groan. Go groan alone. Go roll your bones. Alone. Go thou and be little beneath my sight. Go thou and be minutest seed in the pod. Go thou go thou - die hence, and if this world report you well and truly.
-- J. Kerouac

"Come Alive! Give yourself to living every inch of the way! This is the life!"

And so begins the most interesting sexual book ever and so came the most wonderful week of the year to an end. What began on a cloudy monday afternoon with a shot of Talisker and the voice of good old Sal Paradise wishing us holy luck, quickly poured down our veins and spirits through the blessful lands of Fyn and Copenhagen where the ladies on the graffiti wall sang and where the mtv awards gave our pockets a headache but through snow and minus-celsius-degrees with sturm and drang we arrived at our little walhalla for the week where the most amazing happiness and laughter and discussions and sexylanguage and wine and champagne welcomed us and still the mighty good gods had to create their music and blow us away with their enthusiasm and high spirits, leaving us completely overwhelmed that morning at 8am in the beautiful sunny deserted gothenburg streets when we had to leave it all behind again. The road gives you life and the people gave us love. It was such a humbling, such a joyful and sincere experience that we can only thank all these amazing people we met and that most special doggyperson: tack tack tack. You all keep blowing the music like them popheads of time, never tolerate and you all come and visit whenever you like. Oh thou lovely Scandinavia: do not go away, do not keep your sensual life in your bedroom, we will be there again. Until the white sommarlight!