Fists in the Pocket (I pugnii in tasca)

Marco Bellocchio, 1965

I watched this Criterion DVD last night, and frankly I'm still processing the film I just watched. Films on dysfunctional families are not rare (Lucretia Martel's La Cienega and Denys Arcand's The Barbarian Invasions come to mind), but this film which preceded the other two by a least a quarter century, is about as originial as it gets.

The protagonist -- who evokes the physicality of Doogie Howser yet the emotional instability of Stanley Kowalski -- is a moody epileptic who can be kind and gentle only to follow those feelings with unimaginable cruelty. Yet, like most protagonists in cinema, he's charasmatic and charming as well.

At some point in my 'education' as an actor I learned that it's the contradictions in people that make them so interesting (Isn't it ironic that most of us spend the majority of our lives trying to conform to some self-mposed or societal 'norm?). Bellochio, who purportedly drew much of the substance in his script from personal experience, recognizes this oddity, that in all of us there are bad/good, upright/immoral, etc. characteristics. In this film, Bellochio lays bares the entire personality of his main characters, warts and all.

Another fun touch was the ending: set to the same music from La Traviata that was lip-synched by the three queens on top of the bus driving through the outback in Priscilla Queen of the Desert, this scene is not one you'll forget easily. It involves a moral decision, and having had a few hours to reflect on it, I understand why it was included. Also, the scene was almost entirely improvised by the protagonist, Lou Castel.

My favorite line in the movie comes from who else -- the retarded brother: "What torture it is living in this house."

Two more things: Luis Bunuel, the Spanish/Mexican director who made a career out of blasting the bourgeoisie commented disparaginly about this film after first viewing: "I don't agree with this kind of profanation." Hmm, I'd love to know the context surrounding Bunuel's statement, primarily because everyone from the Pope down to local governments probably said the same about Bunuel's film at one time or another.

The other thing -- and I always try to remind my students of this -- is you must look at a film in terms of its historical moment: Nashville, although it has nothing to do with Watergate, is a scathing rebuke of American culture following the Vietnam War and Nixonian political mess of the early Seventies; In the Company of Men is a violent and ugly look at the male species that took its direction from Ronald Reagan's influence during the Eighties.

This film was a precurser of the anger, violence, and primal scream that characterized 1968 and its aftermath. This was no longer the Italian neorealism of De Sica or Rossellini, or even Visconti.

I strongly encourage everyone to pick up this dvd (always choose the Criterion label if given a choice) and experience what great cinema can be (this being Belocchio's first film, it was shot on a shoestring budget, used nonprofessional actors, and interestingly, was NOT edited by the director or with the director's input).

The Dimming of the Day

Written/composed by Linda and Richard Thompson.

Until you've heard Bonnie Raitt's rendition of this ballad http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dt34u2SlO6I, you ain't heard no singin'. Raitt's interpretation of this oft-interpreted song is perfection. Back when I was a "sanger," I remember coaches saying "you'll know when a song is 'yours':" Streisand's "People," Garland's "Over the Rainbow," Peggy Lee's "Fever." This song belongs to Bonnie Raitt

I know her fans think she hung the moon, but I'd go farther and say she's arguably the overall best female vocalist (non-classical) of modern times, perhaps since Rosemary Clooney shot her wad.

George and Vestal ...

That's Jones and Goodman to you, bucko!

It's 3:39 a.m., and I'm stuffed (on Keebler's Fudge Shoppe Deluxe Grahams) and I'm wide awake ... and I'm listening to an old gospel standard, "Angel Band," sung by George Jones (fresh back on stage from a bad car wreck) and the only person who could coax him back to the stage -- Miss Vestal Goodman. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fG00pby2bq0

" Oh bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home ..." What the hell?

Yet I'm digging it! I've just played it over for the fourth time. Starts out with that steel guitar introduction then Vestal's contralto takes the stage. Strong as an ox, old as Methuslah, and, oh yes, dead as a doorknob ... well, not when she sang the duet.

Vestal sings a verse then takes a backseat to the Ol' Possum himself.

"I've almost gained my heavenly home, my spirit loudly sings.
The Holy ones behold they come, I hear the noise of wings.

"Oh bear my longing heart to Him who bled and died for me,
Whose blood now cleanses from all sin and gives me victory.

"Oh come, angel band, come and around me stand,
Oh bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home!
Oh bear me away on your snowy wings, to my immortal home."

This is the real thing, or "thang," as it were.

Back in the late 80s, when I was at SMU, going to graduate school, I'd go to a beerbust every Sunday at Throckmorton Mining Co., a "happy" bar in Dallas, Texas. Every Sunday, at 5 p.m., they'd play the Happy Goodman Family version of "Lookin' for a City." it was hilarious hearing all these Texas cowgirls belting out Southern gospel music. Here's a link to the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rf8f32cDAXA

I consider it one of the magic moments ( for those who are world-weary) that you didn't know existed until it happened.

The Seventh Seal

As most of you know, I was a film instructor once. Ingmar Bergman, considered by cineastes as one of the handful of 'greatest directors', was among the auteurs I taught (in my Foreign Films/Classics class). However, instead of screening The Seventh Seal I preferred to show Wild Strawberries, a film that had a transformational impact on me.

So, confession time! Although I saw The Seventh Seal in college (back in the Dark Ages), and I've seen snippets of it since then, I hadn't viewed the entire film since college days ... and for good reason. It's not one of my favorite Bergman films. To film lovers that statement is considered heresy.

So, last night (Monday, February 11, 2008) I went to the Loft Cinema, in Tucson, for a screening of the film. It was part of a free program the Loft sponsors called "The Essentials." The theater was packed, and for the most part, the audience was quiet and entirely committed to experiencing this rare event -- seeing a most revered film on the big screen.

I was no exception. Foremost, what stood out about the film was the chiaroscuro lighting/cinematography. The style made perfect sense: Bergman's opus, at its simplest, is a confrontation between a man and Death! Guess who wins? So, it makes sense that the photography would emphasize the black/white dichotomy (either/or; good/bad; life/death), as opposed to dwelling in the realm of ump-teen shades of gray.

Another element of the film that stood out (and stayed with me) was the music/sound. In no uncertain terms it was obtrusive. Loud, abrupt, shocking, upsetting -- these are terms that describe the music/sound. As I remember, Bergmans films are the ideal blend of photography/script/sound/music/performance, et. al. -- with none of these elements overshadowing the others. I'm not sure what was the purpose unless, once again, it was meant to startle, to create unrest in the audience.

It would be irredeemable to talk about a Bergman film and not mention the acting. An actor closely associated with Bergman, Max von Sydow, plays the knight who engages in a chess game with Death. Tall, erect, stoic, oddly handsome, von Sydow's face was created for the screen. If ever an actor embodied the concept of "less is more" it is von Sydow. With the smallest grimace or eye movement he is able to convey extreme angst or careful calm. Since I'm writing this without notes, and very late at night, I don't have a list of the other actors, but several are worth noting.

Finally, the viewer should know that Bergman spent his life preoccupied with death. He suffered major anxiety and several nervous breakdowns. The Seventh Seal is tough to watch because of its fatalistic modus operandi. That said, I was rapt while watchng, albeit my breathing became a bit belabored on occasion. At least I was able to sit throughout the entire film, something I have not been able to accomplish with another Bergman essay on death: Cries and Whispers.

Who knows, maybe that will be the next hurdle for me.

If anyone reads this, I implore you to someday see the film, and if you find it is screening somewhere on a big screen, don't even hestitate. It really is an "essential" film for those who are interested in great cinema.

2007 Travel Schedule

I am preparing my taxes, so I felt it was a good time to think back about where I was last year (2007). The following is a list of my travels:

For Davita

Tuba City, AZ/ 1 week (Navajo reservation; trained with Van) (I passed a kidney stone on Go-Live day.)

Dallas, TX/ 1 week (Trained with Carol, Herb, Diane, and Mike Garcia; Carol and Herb were let go following that week) (Flew Dallas to Albuquerque; Roxie and I drove to Window Rock through some pretty tough snowy roads. Stopped in Cuba and had the best grilled cheese sandwich either of us could remember every having.)

Window Rock, NM/ 1 week (Another Navajo reservation; trained with Roxsan) (The weather was cold with snow and ice everywhere; the way the ice formed on the leafless, and lifeless, trees was similar to what you might see on a picture postcard -- absolutely beautiful!)

Fresno, CA/ 1 week (Trained with Lyn, Nancy Mercer, Yvonne Cook, and some big ol' East Texas dykish woman whom I loved, despite my description.)

Brookfield, WI/ 1 week (Class. Trained with Adam, Jeff Pai, and DJ) (Flew into Midway, on Super Bowl Sunday to -30 temperatures; never knew such cold; given a rental car without HEAT!!!! when I returned it, with an icicle hanging from my nose, they felt guilty and gave me a Lincoln Towncar, albeit with a particularly gross stain in the back seat. Don't ask. It was in Brookfield where I first met Esther Salasavage -- great gal!)

Lake Geneva, WI/ 2 weeks (My first "New Davita" clinic; trained with Jeff Pai, Pam, Robert Jean) (This was one of the most beautiful places I traveled to, albeit extremely cold; the lake was frozen over with trucks and ice fishermen sitting out on the frozen lake, plus I stayed in a fabulous hotel room with great view of the frozen lake, as well as a frozen meandering stream with rocks and boulders creating water/ice noise)

Gonzales, LA/ 2 weeks (Trained with Calvin) (Hell hole with great, fattening Cajun food)

Houston, TX/ 2 weeks (Trained with Diane Venture and Jeff Pai)

Baltimore, MD/ 2 weeks (Trained with Diane, Greg Hill, and Jocelyn) (Had a blast, but it was one of the worst clinics I went to; scary to think how they ran things; a great big ol' nurse with HUGE HAIR had a crush on me; a man puked right in the doorway that was used to exit the building -- I chose to go out the back door.)

Charleston, SC/ 1 week (Class. Trained with Eric Whiteway) (I drove down from Baltimore, with a stopover in Williamsburg, VA; Came down with horrible toothache which turned out to be a sinus infection. Vicodin turned me into a vegetable, but luckily Eric came through and carried the week for both me and him.

Orangeburg, SC/ 2 weeks (Trained with Jocelyn, Esther Salasavage) (THE ABSOLUTE WORST CLINIC ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH, and run by a snot nose little white girl Yuppie who not only was preggers but had the worst attitude I experienced at Davita. That said, we discoverec a fabulous gardens in Orangeburg that made up for the crap at that clinic. And while I'm hating, the Hampton Inn should be blown off the earth, and the FA should be put in jail. Worse, the barbecue sucked!)

Fort Myers, FL/ 2 weeks (Trained with Yvonne, Anthony, Charmayne; the FA complained about me and told Yvonne, the primary trainer, to tell me not to train anymore; I sat shiva for about an hour, licking my wounds, then the FA/wench left for the week and all the big shots in the clinic came to me specifically for trianing. Go figure!)

Miami, FL/ 1 week (Trained with Bernard; stayed in hotel on Atlantic ocean, woke up daily to the most beautiful sight and sound ... oh, it was a little piece of heaven; jbandel and I went out several times, eating down on South Beach and driving up to Fort Lauderdale.)

Tucson, AZ/ 1 week (Class. Trained with Rhonda)

Nogales, AZ/ 2 weeks (Trained with Lisa Storer who is worth her weight in gold many times over!) (Stayed at the Espelendor resort about 10 miles north of Nogales; a great place for people who like birding, in fact, I had a bird's nest just outside my doorway, and every morning and evening I woke up or returned home to a virtual symphony of melodies from Birdland.)

Escondido, CA/ 2 weeks (Trained with Diane Venture and Bob Race)

Tucson, AZ/ 1 week (Class. Trained with Rhonda Thompkins)

Tucson, AZ/ 3 weeks (Trained with Darla, Randy, Ken, Robert Jean) (This clinic was the most problematic of all the clinics I trained for Davita.)

For Merrill Lynch

New Jersey (T3) (On Thursday of the T3 week I was "let go," ostensibly because I 'refused' a teachback. Now, the fact that I'd already completed nine teachbacks apparently carried little weight.)

For Technisource

Frisco, TX (T3)

Under Home Arrest (All I can say to anyone considering working for this country: DON'T; they are the closest to 'nuts' I've met in this business ... and there are lots of flakes and nuts involved in contract training.)

Why John McCain is Unfit to be President

Back when Bill Clinton was President, and Chelsea was a gawky pubescent girl, John McCain told a horribly hurtful joke at Chelsea's expense. It is the lowest of the low to pick on the child of a politician to boost one's ego. After hearing of McCain's low blow I vowed that I could never support someone who could demonstrate such a base level of sensitivity.

So, all the days McCain sat in a prison cell as a prisoner of war do not make up for the undeserved cruelty he inflicted on a gawky kid who just happened to be the only child of a sitting President.

That is why I would never vote for John McCain.

And the Winner Is ...

POST MORTEM COMMENTS.

As I look back at this post, I have to admit that I did vote for BO.  I've not been especially pleased with his leadership, but considering the alternatives (that other party), I'll stay the course.

I add that HRC has exonerated herself very nicely as Secretary of State.  I bet she is thanking her lucky stars that she didn't win the first time.  She's positioned herself now as a world leader and should the opportunity arise, I believe she could get elected.


I voted (by mail) for Hillary Rodham Clinton, and I'm proud of it.

I'm truly dismayed by my fellow liberals who through their words and actions have thrown HRC to the dogs. Shame on you!

Here are my reasons for supporting la Clinton:

1. She's socially liberal yet also a strong-willed leader. No one is going to push her around for long.
2. She is experienced, if for no other reason than having been married to BC. She knows how to win ... the most important skill in politics (like it or not). If Republicans win, they will stack the Supreme Court with the likes of Scalia and Thomas. That would be a liberal's nightmare, at the same time endorsing the corruption and lack of ethics the Republicans have demonstrated over the past seven years.
3. There are no skeletons left to uncover. The Republicans -- who live to destroy people -- have an arsenal of fecal matter to destroy BO (they are so low they'll even try to link 'Obama' to 'Osama;' that is their m.o.). They don't have any new mud to sling at HRC ... and even if they did, she's experienced enough to make minced meat pie out of their slimy asses. One of the reasons they so fear her is she has more testosterone in her fingernails than they can muster in their disgusting loins.
4. I'm not voting for rock stars, Hollywood celebrities, or military heroes for President. Somehow, people were motivated to vote for President Bush because he'd be fun to sit around a campfire with, swig a beer or two. Big mistake. I don't care about HRC; I want her to lead this country and clean up the detritus left by the pond scum she is replacing.
5. The true story of this campaign is not the purported race-baiting, but the blatantly obvious misogyny that has emanted from both the parties and the press in their coverage of HRC. I can't believe how openly hostile the press is to her ... and it's almost always some anti-woman reason behind it. Women should be mad as hell, but instead Susan Sarandon and her ilk are worshiping at Iglesia Obama. It tells me so much about modern-day liberals. Well, Janet Napolitano, Teddy Kennedy, Claire McKaskill, et. al. are going to live to regret turning their backs on HRC. I look forward to the moments of schadenfreude when these turncoats, and others, are left out to pasture in HRC's Administration.
6. Finally, and this is patently obvious. The Right hates HRC. They've organized "Stop Hillary Now" campaigns, they accuse her of the most egregious actions, they try to Swiftboat her, etc. Why? because she scares the crap out of them. They know she can win. They know she will win. They also know Barack Obama CANNOT win in present day United States of America. Otherwise, they'd be calling him everything except a Black man (pun intended). Wake up you nutty liberals. Be smart for once in your life.

Bottom line: I am as disgusted with Democrats/libs as I have been with Republicans. That said, if this party nominates Barack Obama, I won't vote. I don't believe he has the gravitas to be President yet! [He will someday]. I also believe he is exactly what the racist Republicans want because they KNOW America isn't going to elect an African American. And they are right ... sadly. NOTE: I am truly angry at the way HRC has been treated ... and the statement that I won't vote is a manifestation of that anger. However, as of this writing, I'm serious as a stroke.
The Super Tuesday elections are here, and I'm expecting a good showing from HRC.

Follow up to Atlanta Burning

I was told that by Monday or Tuesday I'd get some feedback from the Atlanta Epic project. So, what happened?

BUTKUS! Da nada. Until Friday. I got a call from the recruiter saying I'd made the cut and they were looking for a place for me. That was it.

I was happy (these days anyone who even acknowledges me makes me happy; I'm truly in that "Mr. Cellophane" zone these days; maybe I should quit trying.).

So, I remain in Tucson, dodging the occasional dog feces that populates the patio behind our house, and continuing to look for employment.

My grand plan -- to train continuously for the next five years, and rake in some bucks, is not quite working as I'd hoped. But, there is hope on the whatever. I am one step away (interview with IBM) from getting that longterm project. While it IS a job, it pays ridiculously, and they have paltry limits on what one can spend for housing and per diem.

All kvetching aside, I am working out religiously, eating more judiciously, almost recovered from the allergy onslaught I experienced last week, and breathing clean air in Tucson. That last fact is very important to me.