Red Rover, Red Rover, Red Riding Came Over : The Lost Blog Post

[Author's Note: The following is an unfinished blog post. I just couldn't figure out how to wrap words around these films. I took notes; I have plenty more to say. If you watch them/it, let me know.]

They are no longer running separately at the IFC Center in NYC, and I don't know if all three films ("1974," "1980," and "1983") making up the Channel Four trilogy Red Riding are still available "On Demand" from Time Warner Cable. Eventually you should be able to rent them through Netflix.com and other venues. And, of course, one is always welcome to purchase such things on DVD (or in their original 4-book form).

However you are able to do it, I highly recommend you experience Red Riding, but be warned -- it's hard stuff.

On Super Bowl Sunday 2010, I braved the first weekend of The IFC Road Show tour and watched all three parts in one 5 1/2 hour sitting. Since then, I have felt a bit paralyzed by the experience -- unable to say much or write on the subject, studiously avoiding all the reviews piling up around me. I just couldn't process the totality of what I'd seen.

How can I describe what happened, to me or onscreen, in an intelligible way for those who haven't experienced it? I still feel in danger of failure. My marathon viewing is partly the culprit. Wannabe cinemaniac that I am, I'd never before sat for so long in one theater (two 15-minute breaks notwithstanding). The closest I'd come was watching the overlong Inland Empire in that same theater (during which, frankly, I wished to take a nap so that it would be over a little sooner). But it's the films themselves that really cripple me. I would both watch all three again immediately in a quest for a deeper understanding, at the same time that I never want to go back to their world.

Watching Red Riding the night I did was my chosen alternative to several Super Bowl parties, and it felt freeing to choose a wide parcel of film over that nearly compulsory (in this country, anyway) day of sport. That Sunday evening, at the movies, I felt like myself -- asserting my own identity, thrilled to be sinking deeper into the soft chair of the theater as I became immersed in the brutal, velvet world of the R.R. trilogy. I felt like myself, as I just wrote, yet accosted, and perilously close to despair. So it progressed.

I've seen many films (and television shows) with story lines revolving around serial killers. But Red Riding is different. It's a horse of a bloodier color, with a relentless gait. At moments I could stand apart as a viewer "watching a film." And then, if I may be so bold, there were moments I would feel a sensation that something desperately important was happening.

Occasionally I was central and centered, a bit like Roger Ebert is described in Esquire's now infamous article. Though, dear me, I'm not really comparing myself to Ebert, I did find myself feeling crucial and powerful, scribbling notes into a ringed pad in the dark, surrounded by the films, but held apart. And then I felt, at other times, like a lost child or faceless stranger in their world. My persona slipped away and I lost myself in the spectacle. It was "just a movie" (three movies), but it felt like more.

So, it was/they were (each and together) a singular experience and singular experiences. I was surrounded and enveloped at once by beauty, intelligence, talent, and horror. I was no one and the world was impossibly angry and raw. How could there be any good left in it?

As I mentioned above, the presentation I attended included two fifteen-minute breaks. These breaks came between films one and two. During each intermission, I found myself in the IFC's lovely, lonesome women's bathroom, dug deep along one edge of the theater's mouse-maze of a basement (yes, perhaps this description is a bit dramatic, but that's how it felt).

Anyway, watching films often makes me feel vulnerable, but this was a special night. Each time I took my stretch-my-legs-buy-a-snack-breathe-again break, I found myself in that bathroom, looking introspectively into the mirror, my eyes slightly red from strain -- and, each time, I felt compelled to apply a coat of the lipstick that just happened to be rolling around the bottom of my bag. I twice found I needed to put lipstick on before I could return to my seat and begin the next film in the trilogy. Why? It didn't feel like vanity. It felt like necessity. I think it was armor. I applied the color so I might feel more human, more tied to something outside the off-kilter, too familiar, wrong and punishing world of Red Riding.

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

I am very excited to see the big screen adaptation of Scott Pilgrim vs the World. Judging from this trailer Edgar Wright has managed to not only faithfully adapt the comic, but also kept the series fun loving, innocent spirit intact. I don't know how well this film will go over with those not familiar with the source material, and quite frankly I don't care. Being a nerd/geek means you are part of small community. We care how our favorite stories are adapted for screens, but we could care less if the mass of movie goers like it or not.. Or at least that is how I am. In the end I have faith that edgar was enough of a true fan to really GET the stories. Judging by this trailer I don't think we have anything to be worried about...

42nd St. Forever

Before I begin i have to apologize for the size of the picture. I know it's small, but it was what I could find so deal with it kiddies. As I was browsing Netflix's selections I stumbled across a 5 volume collection called 42nd st forever. 5 DVDs of nothing but trailers Grindhouse movies played in the theaters of old Times Square. if you're old enough to remember when these films were shown, it will probably make you miss the sleazy days of old New York. If you aren't then these trailers are a curious and often hilarious relic to a pre-Disney NYC. These movies were shot in the 70s and it is interesting to see how sexism and racism were alive and well (check out the trailer for Corruption that states "we are so convinced that no woman will want walk home alone after seeing Corruption that no woman by herself will be allowed in" or the trailer for a blaxploitation movie simply called Nigger Charley.. sure he gets his revenge on whitey in the film but a title like that?) These trailers also hearken back to a time when porn was still shown in theaters, one of the standouts being the preview for Sly Stallone's infamous porn flick. Judging from the campiness of these films it is impossible fro me to believe that they are worse than the horror schlock Hollywood feeds us these days. if i could I'd see every one of these if they were available on DVD.

Little Steven

A few weeks ago I had the privilege to see Little Steven Van Zandt give an interview at the 92nd St YMCA. Although he focused on his new projects (his Underground Garage radio show and a website he is planning to launch at the end of the year), he had a good time reminiscing about his time on the Sopranos and the E Street Band and his role in taking down apartheid (he wrote and recorded the "We Won't Play Sun City" single). The main gist of his talk though had to do with love of 50's rock n roll. An era he described as a "renaissance". This is a man who has seen a lot, and contributed in a significant way to the history of rock music and television, but still remains down to earth. If only more celebrities were like this.

A short open letter to Alicia Keys

Dear Alicia,

As much as I enjoy "Empire State OF Mind" (living in the New York area how could I not, right?), I have to ask why did you sell out so bad on your Elements of Freedom album? You have so much more in you than boring hip hop beats and lame string samples. I've heard you play piano. I've heard you sing. Dig deep girl. I know you can do it. Don't settle for production that was played out in '92. I know the temptation is strong to put out a radio friendly unit shifter, but maybe.. just maybe if you made an honest record next time you could be a legend. An icon. Stop thinking Mariah Carey and start thinking Billie Hoiliday. The music that influnced you is jazz and blues not commercial R&B. And don't try arguing with me, I hear it in your earlier music. It's unmistakable and powerful. There's a saying in politics. You Dance With the One What Brung Ya. You're wearing a ball gown so stop trying to dance with the new arrivals in the baggy jeans and crooked baseball hats. it's making you look ridiculous.

thank you
Everybody's a critic

A lesson in rebellion

If I learned one thing from reading Newave! The Underground Mini Comix of the 80s is that the medium of the mini comic is one of the purest, cheapest and uncompromising forms of DIY culture there is.. Or was.. the Internet has made the art form a bit archaic. Many of the artists featured in this collection were influenced by a mix of punk rock, dada, the 60s underground comics of Crumb and his ilk and as a response to the oppressive policies of the Reagan administration. They were cheap to make and copy and quickly put together. The result is an almost stream of consciousness surrealism who's mere existence is rebellion. This is a child's first go at dirty drawings sprinkled with cynicism and experience. This book does a great job of collecting some of the best examples and putting them into historical perspective with interviews of the creators. This is a great introduction to and underground scene almost lost to the march of time and technology.

Manic Panic.

This picture reminds me of the 90's more than the 70's when it was taken but I have been feeling back to my roots lately and wanting to put a big purple streak in my hair like I did in the 90's..then I found this pic of Stevie with one. Now I'm really going to do it. Will post it when done. Nothing like nostalgia.