My shopping phobia is getting worse but sometimes needs must so I dragged my bahookie out early this morning. Driving through old 'hoods where the wrecking balls have been in operation only adds to my misgivings about even heading out the door. However, there was the bonus that it was raining and generally driech so this, plus my Hello Saferide soundtrack kinda made me impervious to what was happening "out there" beyond my environs. So anyways, I reach my destination and it's immediately evident that I struck out. No hanging about, back into the car and offsky. Foray two fared no better and other than managing to get shot of a bunch of bags into a recycling facility, nada. There's no choice anymore, stocks are cut and you either make do with the shite that they do have or you come away cursing. Let's hear it for the ol' potty mouth. So, "I still haven't found what I'm looking for" as Boner whined. We finally have something in common. Innit.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Another day at the film festival then... starting with Walter Matthau and Bruce Dern in The Laughing Policeman. Sounds like an Ealing comedy but it seems like the prototype which segued into shows like "The Streets of San Francisco". based on a Swedish novel and relocated from Stockholm, it almost seems like a TV pilot but that said it's a great snapshot and they certainly don't make them like this anymore. It has gone with an equally snappy (not) title of "An Investigation Of Murder" in a previous life. On equal billing with any of the players, the star is old SF itself. Something that added to the whole experience was the introduction by Eddie Cockrell of Variety who obviously knows his onions and cares enough to share them. This screening was at Filmhouse but it was off to the antiseptic "wheel 'em in" Cineworld for Gretchen. There's not much on this interweb thing about this except comparisons to "Napoleon Dynamite" and "Welcome To The Dollhouse". I never saw ND but it sure as hell isn't "Dollhouse". Anyway, it's like if Harmony Korine made a movie for Disney. The contrived dysfunction snuffs any humour in the uncomfortable crawlspace. It has it's moments but those are pretty few and far between. One of the characters, Marla (Yasmine Kittles), looks a little like Triche Boonaaara so that was a plus. I thought Courtney Davis (Gretchen Finkle) looked like Melissa Joan Hart so thatw as a little too much dibelief to suspend. There's no Q&A or director present, or even an EIFF representative on hand to try and buff up the premise. Perhaps because the previous screening in that room over-ran. I dunno. Anyway, I was kinda glad to get out of there because much grazing on popcorn and other processed foyer shit was going down. Can I recommend it? In all honesty no. Might try and catch more of the "They Might Be Giants" thread because at least some effort is being applied in this department and we're dealing with work that has trailblazed in it's time.