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Thursday, January 29, 2015

Elizabeth Lo, Hotel 22

Hotel 22 2014
(http://www.elizabeth-lo.com/hotel22)
no copyright infringement intended


Line 22 is a public shuttle operating 24/7 in Silicon Valley between San Jose and Palo Alto. The route takes ninety minutes. During the night the bus is taken by the homeless, who pay the fare and make the whole route, to get this way some kind of a shelter of its own kind. Name it shelter, or name it hotel (or drive-in, or drive-through, and so on and so forth), whichever suits you better. People in the area found for the bus a name sounding half ironically, half affectionately: Hotel 22.

It sounds weird, as everybody knows that Silicon Valley is the paradise of high tech, with huge wages, super-smart boys, great opportunities, all that stuff. The thing is that any paradise comes with a hell embedded. A paradise cannot exist without its counterpart. So when the tech boom came to Silicon Valley the living costs soared, and people who used to live in the region couldn't afford anymore a decent place for them. They were neither computer geeks nor mathematical geniuses, just ordinary guys like everywhere else. And seemingly such paradises are not for ordinary guys.

Film director Elizabeth Lo decided to see with her own eyes this reality of a hell inside the paradise. She took the 22 during the night and, to use her own words, what she saw seemed like a microcosm of the challenges confronting this dispossessed population. And her exploration gave birth to a poignant little film carrying as title just the nick of the bus, Hotel 22. A eight minute indie that is competing at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival. A little cinematic gem.




You can watch the whole movie here:



(Elizabeth Lo)

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Elizabeth Lo

Elizabeth Lo
(Stanford University)
no copyright infringement intended


nonfiction filmmaker; born and raised in Hong Kong; received a BFA in literature and film production from Tisch School of the Arts, NYU; currently an MFA candidate in the Stanford University Documentary Film program; her credits include 3 short documentaries (Hotel 22, Treasure Island, and Last Stop in Santa Rosa); her films deal with some dramatic aspects of the American life generally ignored, being considered minor; she brings them into relevance, using some apparent self-detachment that let the situations speak for themselves; prior to this work for Oprah Winfrey Network series, Our America with Lisa Ling.








(Hong Kong Cinema)

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Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Looking for Kochetov

(http://bookmix.ru/book.phtml?id=1873062)
no copyright infringement intended


There is a Romanian expression (a bit slang), a ţi se pune pata.

Pată means stain. You suddenly get obsessed about something or about somebody. There is apparently no reason, no history, nothing to explain it. Like a stain on your brain, and it stays there, you cannot get free of it any more.

Some years ago I got such a stain on my brain, for a book. A book by Kochetov.

Not another author. Just Kochetov. This is weird, you'd say. Well, were it the only weird thing in my life, I would have been almost okay with everything!

It is hard to find in the whole history of Soviet literature somebody more Stalinist than Kochetov. Other authors were more or less nuanced in their political views, tried more or less to take distances. Not Kochetov. He remained a staunched Stalinist to the end, long time after Stalin had died.

Then why Kochetov? Behind the apparent irrationality of an obsession there is always a rationale. I don't know. Maybe a desire to understand more an epoch, or to judge it with today's understanding. Or to understand it in my own terms. Or maybe a nostalgic regret for all these years that have passed over me and are gone for good. I don't know.

A book written by this Kochetov in 1952, The Zhurbin Family, enjoyed a certain fame on this part of the terrestrial globe. It was translated in Romanian, in 1953. I didn't have the chance to read it. By then I was just a kid in the first grade. Once, in a summer school camp I saw the book at another boy and I had it for an afternoon. I was able to read the first two chapters, and that was all.

And then, everybody forgot about the Zhurbins. Other books, other authors, other heroes came and left. Other historical epochs, other problems, other ways to understand life and to react to it.

Well, suddenly some years ago, the memory of the book came to my mind and I felt an irresistible impulse to read it.

In order to read it, firstly I had to find a copy. Easy to say.

I visited all antiquarians in Bucharest. Nobody knew about it. Kochetov who? I asked then the bouquinistes. No one knew about it. Kochetov who? I kept asking.

It happened that last year I was in the States for two weeks or so, and from these two weeks I spent in New York exactly one evening and the following morning.

An evening and a morning in New York, that's not too much. During the evening, among other things I walked on Bedford Street, the hipsters' place in Brooklyn, and I entered a bookstore there. I remembered the place very well: in 2009 I had bought there The Wild Party, a fabulous 1928 edition illustrated by Reginald Marsh. Maybe one day I will talk here about it.

So I entered the store with some joyful curiosity. The bookseller announced me just in that moment that the program was ending, so everybody had to get out. It was already nine o' clock.

I didn't like his tone, but he was right. What to say? Actually there was something to say. I asked him about the book of Kochetov. Koche.. who? Never heard about. That offered me the opportunity to exclaim, how is that possible? I left then the store putting a dignified mask over my usual look. Not far from the bookstore, on the Berry Street, just a couple of blocks away, I found a splendid place with German beer, grilled wursts and a nice jazz band: the Radegast Hall and Biergarten. That made me forget about Kochetov and his Zhurbins for the rest of the evening.

Several days after that, I was in Cambridge, Massachusetts with my son, walking on one of the streets near Harvard Square. He wanted to show me some really beautiful mansions that were ranged one after the other on Brattle Street. One of them was famous. It had served as headquarters for General Washington during the Siege of Boston, and much later in 1837 became Longfellow's mansion. The whole street looked very classy. I remembered something I had read some years earlier: the name of the street in the very old times had been the King's Highway. Really royal, indeed!

We continued our walk on other streets nearby, talking at random about different things. We passed the Divinity School, and I told my son that the Niebuhrs had taught there (actually I was wrong: Reinhold had taught at New York, and H. Richard at Yale). I had read one of H.Richard Niebuhr's books, Christ and Culture and I talked about it with such enthusiasm that my son ordered it on the spot, using his cell (he gave me later that evening, when we were at his home, another one of Niebuhr's books, The Social Sources of Denominationalism; I read it when back in Bucharest).

As we were talking we approached an antiquarian situated very close to the university. The bookseller here was nice, however the temptation was too big, and I asked him about the Soviet author and his book. I even added that I would be okay with an English translation, though it would be more preferable if he had a Romanian edition. Of course he didn't know anything about and I realized what a shameless stupid arsehole I was. Fortunately I found another book (this one by Yasunari Kawabata, The Master of Go) and I bought it, praising the chance to find that book in that place. And I was right: a day before I had bought a dvd with a Chinese movie by Tian Zhuang-Zhuang, The Go Master, having only Spanish subtitles, so the book was a helpful companion to the film (the subjects of the book and the movie were different, however the epoch and the heroes were the same). Well, as I said, the bookseller was very nice, and I should add the name of the bookstore, as it is the oldest foreign book dealer in US (and the fourth oldest overall): Schoenhof's Foreign Books.

Back in Bucharest I went on asking the bouquinistes about the Zhurbins. Nobody knew anything about the book or about the author. Only one said, yeah, I remember, some twenty years ago I used to have some copies; I was offering them almost for free, otherwise nobody would have bought it. You've come twenty years too late my friend!

There are more places in Bucharest where these street book sellers can be found. One is at the University. Another place is in front of the Obor marquet. There are other places as well, but these two places are my favorites. I always spend a bit of time to browse what they have. It's like browsing diverse epochs, the titles of the books, the illustrations on their covers, they speak a lot about the mentality of the period in which they were published, and sometimes it's about periods that I lived.

And the books at the bouquinistes or antiquarians speak also in some subtle way about the culture of the city, the present and the past, the popular culture especially. You know a place also on the books you find there. Be it Bucharest, be it Istanbul, be it New York, or Paris, or London. Hou Hsiao-Hsien, the great Taiwanese director, made his movie about Paris (Le Voyage du Ballon Rouge) starting from a book speaking about the city (with a wonderful title, by the way, Paris to the Moon).

They have, these guys, sometimes other books even much older. Once I found something that was really unique: a Balzac edition, a Romanian translation printed with Slavonic characters, published sometime in the first half of the 19th century.

Well, one week ago, I got a call from one of these bouquinistes: are you still interested in the Zhurbins? I found a copy for you.



(Kochetov)

(Cambridge)

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Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Iosif Kheifits

Хейфиц Иосиф Ефимович
1905 - 1995
(Кино-Театр)
no copyright infringement intended


remained in the memory of cinema lovers with his 1960 adaptation of Chekhov's Дама с собачкой, but his artistic output was much larger: thirty-two movies in all, spanning from 1928 to 1990.



(Russian and Soviet Cinema)

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Monday, January 26, 2015

Victory in Greece

(source: Las 2 Orillas)
no copyright infringement intended


the moussaka roared - for good this time - I want them all the best




(Zoon Politikon)

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Sunday, January 25, 2015

Anna Seghers

Anna Seghers
(Roger Meils Fotografien)
no copyright infringement intended


born in 1900, died in 1983, best remembered for her novels about moral experiences during WWII; actually her name was Netty Radványi, née Reiling and her pseudonym was taken from the Dutch painter and etcher Hercules Seghers (whose works she admired); this speaks a lot for her life interest in Beaux Arts; studied the history of art at the university, along with general history and philosophy (and also Chinese, interesting detail, adding a touch to her portrait); her doctoral thesis treated aspects of Jews and Jewishness in the work of Rembrandt; coming to maturity during WWI, joined the Communist Party of Germany in 1928; during the Nazi period lived in exile (France, then Mexico); returned to Germany in 1947, settled in East Berlin in 1950, to become an emblematic figure of the GDR letters; Aufstand der Fischer von St. Barbara (1928) was her first novel, describing a grassroots revolt of Breton fishermen for better wages and larger share of their catch - the tone of the novel is kept cool, avoiding polemical excesses, while much attention is given to the details, reflecting the ideas of Neue Sachlichkeit - Erwin Piscator adapted the book for the screen (Восстание рыбаков, 1934); Das siebte Kreuz (1942) had a rather simple plot -a group of seven prisoners in a Nazi camp making a collaborative escape attempt - it was also adapted for the screen, this time by Fred Zinnemann, starring Spencer Tracy (The Seventh Cross, 1944); in Der Ausflug der toten Mädchen (1943) a woman living in exile is haunted by the ghostly visits of old schoolmates who had died in the Nazi camps and prisons - a horrific landscape of a Germany going mad and sending its madness far away on Earth; Transit Visa (1944), considered by Heinrich Böll as the most beautiful novel Seghers has written, was a thriller mixing politics, philosophy and literature, calling the reader back every couple of years to see how it evolved their relationship (Christa Wolf); and these titles are but a few of her bibliography.



(German and Nordic Literature)

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Saturday, January 24, 2015

Jerusalem, 1917, and then 1896

Jerusalem, 1917
fair use

The image above comes from 1917. Jerusalem, the Holy City for three great religions.

If I forget thee, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand forget her cunning

O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets

The dew which descends upon Jerusalem is a remedy from every sickness because it is from the gardens of Paradise.


The Psalms, the Gospel, and the Hadith, three sister books. To whom should the Holly City belong? I think the correct question should be, When Will the Fighting Stop?

The film footage below comes from 1896. Cameramen from the studio of Frères Lumière came to Jerusalem to discover the uniqueness of the place. And they found a city where Arabs, Jews and Christians were living and praying together.






(Early Movies)

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Friday, January 23, 2015

Mariana Rondón: Postales de Leningrado (2007)

Postales de Leningrado, 2007
(Kino Pod Baranami)
no copyright infringement intended

A movie putting in parallel several representations of the same reality. Which one is faithful to the facts?

The background is the civil war that ravaged Venezuela in the 1960's. The two enemies were former allies: several years earlier the left wing forces had come to power in the country, and soon the radicals split and started a ruthless guerrilla. The moderate left that were now alone at power responded with political terror. From each side, moderates and radicals, the recourse to the method (the title of a novel by Alejo Carpentier coming in mind, El Recurso del método). Like a fatality. For the moderates, the recourse to political terror, for reasons of state (again Carpentier coming in mind, with the English title of his novel, Reasons of State). For the radicals, the recourse to revolutionary struggle, as a matter of principle (here I disagree maybe with Carpentier, I'd say that I'm much more skeptical when it comes to politics; on the other hand, who am I to disagree with Carpentier? Just speculating). Well, that's what happens sometimes between moderates and radicals.  In the 1960's Venezuela the two forces were the regime of Presidents Rómulo Betancourt and Raúl Leoni, against the partisans from FALN (Fuerzas Armadas de Liberación Nacional).

A detachment of guerrilleros  in the mountains, hunted by the military; one by one the partisans are caught and tortured to betray the other comrades. Meanwhile life and love follow the laws set by nature; a girl is procreated just in these dramatic moments. Girl of guerrilleros. Her birth happens to come when the country celebrates the Mother's Day. Girl and mother are photographed and the photo is published in the newspapers. The secret police compares the photo with its archive and traces the mother. The girl will be raised by the grandparents, like all other kids of guerrilleros. From time to time, very rarely, a postal card comes and makes sensation. It is announced in a codified language: card from Leningrad! and the kid knows that actually it comes from the parents. It's an illustrated postcard, the image of a beautiful city from afar. The kid starts dreaming, maybe one day I will go in the mountains to find them, my parents, and maybe if I keep going I will arrive in that big city, in Leningrad. As the kid has been told that his parents must hide, then this trick should be learned, how to become an invisible man. The reality of the civil war in all its brutality and ugliness, and the reality imagined by these kids, in all its purity and innocence, a universe of fairy-tales mixed with the postales de Leningrado. I was thinking while watching this film at another great movie, Guillermo del Torro's El laberinto del fauno.

This movie operates on multiple plans: the guerrilleros; their kids (the girl and her cousin Teo); the villagers (grandparents and other relatives and friends).  Which plan is more faithful to the facts? For the kids, the imagination creates a parallel universe with invisible men and enchanted adventures. For the villagers, the perception of the partisans is also slipping toward myth (se fueron a salvar al mundo y los seguimos esperando). For the guerrilleros themselves, their perceived self-image is also getting toward a parallel reality: a mysterious American TV cameraman seems to record them all the time, making us to question the authenticity of everything; is it real guerrilla or a movie in the making?

And over all these levels, the off-voice of the girl presenting all the stories about herself, about the other kids, villagers and partisans, with innocence and childish humor.

A wonderful movie about reality and representation, about the relativity of what we perceive about others and about ourselves.



A few links to movie reviews:



(Mariana Rondón)

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Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Teodora, imperatrice di Bisanzio (1954)



The biographical sources about Byzantine Empress Theodora (Θεοδώρα), wife of Justinian, are highly contradictory. Sometimes the same author gives in different books opposite descriptions (the most striking example being of Procopius, the ultimate historical source for the 6th century: in the Wars of Justinian she appears as courageous and influential; in the Secret History she comes as vulgar and insatiably lusty, while shrewd and mean; in the Buildings of Justinian she is a pious and beautiful dame). One thing is clear: any of these hypostasis we choose, she remains in the Byzantine history for better or worse as a very strong and influential personality.


L'Imperatrice Theodora au Colisée
by Jean-Joseph Benjamin-Constant
oil on canvas, private collection
(wikimedia)
no copyright infringement intended

No wonder she raised the interest of writers, and painters, and filmmakers. In 1938 Robert Graves featured her in Count Belisarius. In 2010 Stella Duffy published Theodora: Actress, Empress, Whore. The same Stella Duffy came back on the Byzantine Empress in 2012: The Purple Shroud. Stephanie Thornton came in 2013 with The Secret History: A Novel of Empress Theodora. And there are some other books as well.



Sarah Bernhardt in Victorien Sardou's Théodora
photographiée par Félix Nadar, 1882
(wikimedia)
no copyright infringement intended


The first movie dedicated to Theodora came in 1909: the 242 minute Teodora imperatrice di Bisanzio, directed by Ernesto Maria Pasquali. It was followed in 1921 by Leopoldo Carlucci's Theodora, with a screenplay written by Victorien Sardou: after the former courtesan and slave girl, marries the emperor, a love affair with a handsome Greek leads to revolution in both Byzantium and Rome (Jim Beaver). Rita Jolivet was in the role of the Empress. Ferruccio Biancini played Justinian.


Rita Jolivet and Ferruccio Biancini in Theodora, 1921
(11 East 14th Street)
no copyright infringement intended


Another Theodora, the most recent so far, was made in 1954: Teodora, imperatrice di Bisanzio, with Gianna Maria Canale, Georges Marchal, and Irene Papas, directed by Riccardo Freda. This time the twist was rather political: the divide between nobility and slave is too great and Theodora seeks justice for her people; revolution erupt in both Byzantium and Rome (Jim Beaver)

The 1954 movie came also in Bucharest theaters, I was a kid by then and didn't watch it. I found right now the movie on a youTube video.And I had a discussion with a friend my age just today: he was convinced that the main role had been played by another Italian actress. No, it was played by Gianna Maria Canale.






(Italian Movies)

Monday, January 19, 2015

Il Gattopardo (1963)

Il Gattopardo, 1963
(Cine Blog)
no copyright infringement intended


I had yesterday the unexpected surprise to watch this movie again, after many decades. It was aired on a TV channel, and I came upon it by pure chance.

I was a teenager in 1963, I was in love for Claudia Cardinale, and I was admiring Alain Delon. Thus I followed the two with juvenile enchantment. In the same time I knew one or two things about Visconti. And I discovered in this movie the admirable scenic presence of Burt Lancaster. Also Paolo Stoppa, whom I knew from Casa Ricordi, and not only.

After two or three years I had the chance to read the novel of Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, and I realized the full universe and the full refinement. The universe of both author and hero, Prince Lampedusa, and Prince Salina; and the refinement of their inner universes, of the author and of his hero.

Prince Salina, too lucid to not understand that his world was fading, too aristocrat to not understand that any adaptation to the new world would have been disgracious.






(Luchino Visconti)

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Sunday, January 11, 2015

El Manzano Azul

El Manzano Azul, 2012
(El Condef Blog)
no copyright infringement intended


A boy of about ten or eleven must spend the summer at his grandfather (the boy barely knows his grandpa). The boy comes from a big city  where the universe has smartphone, cable TV, and Internet as natural coordinates. The grandpa lives in a remote village in the mountains, where the universe is deprived even of electricity and bathroom. People in the village look like from another planet, and boys of his age are overtly hostile. Generally everything seems to be charged with an incomprehensible level of brutality. Add to this the traumas the boy carries with him from the city: the father has left the family to come back only in very short flashbacks in the boy's nightly dreams.

All this makes the little boy very reluctant towards his grandpa and towards everybody and everything there. Well, the grandpa is patient and tactful, and little by little he succeeds to communicate his own balance to the boy.

And so the boy starts progressively to open himself to the new universe and get more and more fascinated by the knowns and unknowns there. There is something beyond the incomprehensible brutality: a genuine collective solidarity against the potential evil coming from outside. Once you are accepted, you'll bee protected.

This grandpa seems to carry wonderful mysteries, the same as the blue apple tree near the house. It's for the boy  the beginning of a lifelong fascination for the place, and he will come back in the years that follow, and will marry the girl he met here in the village during that summer of long time ago.

A simple and beautiful story that is recomposed through the memories of the adult who once was a boy of about ten or eleven, and who has inherited from his grandpa that wonderful balance in approaching the knowns and unknowns in life.

That is El Manzano Azul (The Blue Apple Tree), the 2012 movie of Venezuelan director Olegario Barrera. The grandpa is played by an unforgettable actor, Miguel Ángel Landa.



Watching this movie, my own story from long time ago came to my mind; my father that abandoned his family; his image coming in quick stupid flashbacks to me, now and then; me, born in France, at three years old coming to Romania; not knowing any Romanian word; as for my Grandma, she did not know French; now I am close to my seventies; I hope I learned from my Grandma one or two lessons.

(Olegario Barrera)

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Saturday, January 10, 2015

Olegario Barrera

Olegario Barrera
(el Monstruo de un Millión de Cabezas)
no copyright infringement intended

Movie director and writer born in 1947 in Spain (in the Canary Islands), living in Venezuela since childhood. His first movie, Pequeña Revancha (1984) got more than 30 awards, in Venezuela and abroad (Germany, France, Italy, Colombia, and Cuba). It was based on a story by Antonio Skármeta: a 12 years old boy has been asked to write an essay about What does your family do at nights; he lives in a right wing dictatorship regime in Venezuela that has begun eliminating Union leaders and leftist Venezuelans; while the story develops the boy deals with the first kiss experience, the dead of his dog and the fact that asking too many questions may be very dangerous (imdbuser). His next movie was Operación billete (1987): an old employee in the credit department of a large commercial bank finds serious financial irregularities implying his superiors; he starts a hard struggle to discover everything and to demonstrate the corruption (Film in het Nederlands). Fin de Round (1992) was based on a 1976 play by Rodolfo Santana: a boy leaves his village in Venezuela, and along with his sister and brother travels to the city trying to break through; there he discovers his talent for boxing and through it the opportunity to be someone (ViiozMoviesOnline). Una Abuela Virgen (2007) was also based on a play by Rodolfo Santana (Rock para una abuela Virgen, 1982): a grandmother who passed away nearly two decades ago returns to the world of the living as a twenty year old beauty who sends her granddaughter's life spiraling into chaos (Barnes and Noble). El Manzano Azul (2012): a young boy sets out on a vacation with his grandfather, and has a transformative experience while visiting a village surrounding a mysterious blue apple tree (Rotten Tomatoes).


(Iberic and Iberic-American Cinema)

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Friday, January 09, 2015

El Hakim

El Hakim, 1957
(Benito Movie Poster)
no copyright infringement intended

What would tell some movie from 1957 to a today's viewer? You'd be surprised, it still has a lot to say.

The destiny of a very smart boy from a poor family in a poor country. Normally it should become a failure from the very beginning. The name of a story written by the Romanian author Ioan Alexandru Brătescu-Voinești comes to my mind (the story is Niculăiţă Minciună, let's say Nick the Liar or Nick the Lie). All the others, mediocre and jealous to preserve their mediocrity, will declare the smart boy just a liar, and his imagination, just a ridiculous manufacture of lies.

Only a few succeed to get further. After years of hard work and privations, they finish their studies and start professing in the specialty they love, be it medicine or engineering, science or teaching, or anything else.They have to face often the potential hostility of the environment, the corruption and abuses, the lack of understanding.

Sometimes the only reasonable solution remains to emigrate. Then it becomes possible to enjoy the deserved success. Only it's far away from your natural habitat, and nostalgia will start to work, painful memories, of your places, of your youth, of things you could have done and you haven't, focused as you were on your work. Memories will start to visit you, the memory of that girl who loved you, and you had been too shy, or too undecided, or simply too preoccupied with building your career. And you will realize what would have mattered most, and what is lost.

And you will start to dream of returning, to die peacefully in your country, or maybe to find there the time and serenity to write about all this.

That is what El Hakim tells us. A German movie from 1957.





The film is based on a novel (Dr. Ibrahim) from 1935 by John Knittel (a Swiss author born in India, who lived mostly in England and Switzerland, traveled intensely in the North African countries, and wrote all his books in English - then all of them were translated in German). Otto Wilhelm Fischer in the role of Dr. Ibrahim, the man struggling for all his life to get accomplished, meeting the long-sought success in London, and finally coming back to Egypt to find there his balance and become El Hakim - The Sage. Among many other roles, Fischer created also a beautiful Augustin Saint-Claire, in a German adaptation of Uncle Tom's Cabin (1965). In the role of his life love, lost in his young years and retrieved in the end, an actress of subtle talent and unforgettable beauty, Nadja Tiller.


(German and Nordic Cinema)

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Sunday, January 04, 2015

I'm Not Rappaport

Walt Matthaw (Nat) and Ossie Davis (Midge)
I'm Not Rappaport, 1996
(Orlando Weekly)
no copyright infringement intended


- Hey, Rappaport! I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?
- I'm not Rappaport.
- Rappaport, what happened to you? You used to be a short fat guy, and now you're a tall skinny guy.
- I'm not Rappaport
- Rappaport, you used to be a young guy with a beard, and now you're an old guy with a mustache
- I'm not Rappaport.
- Rappaport, how has this happened? You used to be a cowardly little white guy, and now you're a big imposing black guy.
- I'm not Rappaport.
- And you changed your name, too!
(wiki)



(video by rokoge)


When I saw I'm Not Rappaport the theater was full of Rappaports. I was feeling myself kind of chevalier seul. Someone said to me, Hello Rap, what's up buddy? and I looked so confused that he went on seemingly in Russian, привет, как дела? I didn't know how to answer, as I was not understanding his question at all, so I only said, I'm not Rappaport ... there was some truth in that movie, you know?





(Filmofilia)

Jill Rapaport: Duchamp et Moi and Other Stories

(Facebook Page of Jill Rapaport)
no copyright infringement intended



A book with a very NY universe in it: nihilistic, minimal, sometimes absurd, sometimes cruel, all this interlaced with a delicate fabric made of dreams (how is that is difficult to explain). Duchamp has just landed in Manhattan and people there are taking him for Beckett, so he is looking for his Godot, while encountering Proust by pure chance. Marcel Duchamp and Marcel Proust in Manhattan, in the Chelsea district, encountering Jill Rapaport in Madison Square Park. A small quiet place, a spot of illusory happiness in the madness of a city that is devouring itself. The book of Jill Rapaport is somehow a very Manhattanian À la recherche du temps perdu - in search of a lost time and of a vanishing city. À la recherche du temps perdu et d'une cité qui n'est plus ce qu'il était autrefois, on trouve un petit iardin, un petit coin du paradise, où Jill raconte ses histories.


(Jill Rapaport)

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