Not everyone goes to the Hamptons in summer. Spending ridiculous sums of money all generously funded by the taxpayer (you’re excluded Mr Spielberg-how are the hipsters on your beach:) reasonably happy enough he/she has all their arms/legs and mind intact. Just. A Bud light on a cheap deckchair gazing at the tin angel that one day maybe flew into their lives.
A few films that last year (or the ..before before before...) sort of made it and didn’t for summer night delectation:
Totally different genre Certain Woman. All seems like nothing at the time. Constant osmosis, a something that never seems to go away.
Another 'indie' director whose work is never anything but watchable (not a put-down!) is Joe Swanberg. No 'artifice' just real people with real problems.
Win It All
Drinking Buddies
The Circle
Eggers novel is as most fascinating as it it frustratingly fallen. Similarly, the movie removes all the novel's darkness replacing it (with good intentions) the light that is forever illusory. Not a stupid screenplay thought! And it is not a bad movie! Just: it needs like a 4th dimension re-realization. Dare I eat a Luis Buñuel peach? Eggers world was here, is here, will be here tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. The great ethical question is: are secrets = lies? And, in the end, the movie does get that, only rather prosaically.
It wasn’t her death she was talking about.
It is Florida.
It's:...
defying D Train gravity....
...hello!
Saw this on Simon La Squid's plasma/plankton screen in the underwater grotto (bit disappointed that all those tentacles couldn't muster cinerama- which is what Terence Davies' beautiful film is made for. (Great seafood buffet, though) I think Simon's saving up for the oyster seats and the red coral armrests (the oysters alas deceased but the coral very very pleased to have a new environmentally friendly home).
And if you don't know who is Simon: then you'll just have to read something on this website that isn't about your own AWESOME work…arrhhhhhh!
And who knew squids and octopus adore Emily Dickinson. Who knew. Who knew!
Only she.
I started Early – Took my Dog –
And visited the Sea –
The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me –
And Frigates – in the Upper Floor
Extended Hempen Hands –
Presuming Me to be a Mouse –
Aground – opon the Sands –
But no Man moved Me – till the Tide
Went past my simple Shoe –
And past my Apron – and my Belt
And past my Boddice – too –
And made as He would eat me up –
As wholly as a Dew
Opon a Dandelion's Sleeve –
And then – I started – too –
And He – He followed – close behind –
I felt His Silver Heel
Opon my Ancle – Then My Shoes
Would overflow with Pearl –
Until We met the Solid Town –
No One He seemed to know –
And bowing – with a Mighty look –
At me – The Sea withdrew –
