Well, dear readers, whereas the other day I was mellow, and yesterday I was bouncing off the walls, tonight I am just plain tired. I can barely keep my eyes open whilst I type these here notes, but I must, because if I don’t keep my eyes open then the notes look like this: j3e0jgkndn, wkntk en elken ig ngknal neopitna llnkne 99tn nkgla nlknnaln. You see the problem. Writing with your eyes closed is a lesson in futility, if you ask me. For those who are wondering what that sentence would be if I’d had my eyes open, it translates roughly to “Why am I walking around the village square without any trousers on?” Speaking of trousers on, yesterday was a thoroughly peculiar day in just about every way. I no longer remember why, exactly, but, trust me, it was quite peculiar. For example, I woke up. That was peculiar. I then had to write a strongly worded e-mail, which I did, and which I sent. I then had to write. I then had to do errands. I then had to address packages. I then had to write. Finally, I could do no more and I toddled off to have supper with Miss Lauren Rubin, better known as Joyce in The Brain From Planet X. We managed to get into Bird’s, but in retrospect I wish we’d gone next door to Prizzi’s, as it was too soon to be eating Bird’s again. Oh, the food was fine, but I’d just had it and I was a bit bored by it all. Ah, well, hindsight is twenty-twenty vision. Is that the expression? That doesn’t sound right. Hindsight is something. Something about seeing more clearly in hindsight with twenty-twenty vision and if you can’t take the heat get out of the oven or the toaster or the frying pan. Maybe it’s if you can’t take the frying pan get out of the heat and get some twenty-twenty vision while you’re at it. I think a similar expression would be a Monday morning quarterback. Of course, it’s Thursday, so how can I be a Monday morning quarterback with twenty twenty hindsight vision in a frying pan? I’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t I? It’s just because I’m plain tired. Not fancy tired, mind you, no, I am plain tired and can barely keep my eyaek pein. My Eyaek Pein – that’s the title of my new novel. It’s the story of Mr. Eyaek Pein, a Scandinavian weed whacker who was married to twelve women, three men, and a sheep at the same time.
Last night, I watched a motion picture entitled Hollywoodland, the story of the death of actor George Reeves, who played Superman. There’s a wonderful film to be made about Mr. Reeves, but unfortunately this wasn’t the film. Despite what the filmmakers say in the extras, and despite what you’ll read on the imdb (MASTERPIECE!) this is yet another poorly made, poorly written, and poorly conceived film. The script is terrible, filled with bad dialogue and bad plotting. I would say it becomes clear rather quickly that the writer simply didn’t trust his story and added a fictional private investigator character that becomes the central focus of the film. The problem is, the character is so obnoxious and annoying that we never care about him and he keeps intruding into the real story of the film. They’d have been better off doing a Citizen Kane technique, so we could see the story from many different viewpoints (since the end result is enigmatic anyway). But, you know, these writers today must adhere to their Screenplay 101 basics. Ben Affleck is merely okay as Mr. Reeves, and frequently not even that. Like most young actors today, Mr. Affleck mumbles his way through the part and has no discernable character, despite what Mr. Jim Beaver, the George Reeves “expert” says on the imdb. Even the title of the film is meaningless, a metaphor that has nothing to do with the film at all. The director (who has mostly directed television), talks a good game but it isn’t up on screen, I’m afraid. And I noticed an interesting thing while watching, and that is the oh, so hip practice of draining most of the color from the image. At one point in the extras, the cameraman and director tell us how they wanted the recreation of 50s Hollywood to sparkle. Well, how can it when everything is brown? This is an all too common practice today, and it’s led me to believe that it’s what’s making these brainiacs who are doing transfers of older films for DVD to keep them on the brown side – because these kiddies think that’s what movie color has always looked like. Sorry, the skies of 50s LA were blue, not green, not brown (unless it was really smoggy) and not colorless. Sadly, Hollywoodland precludes a better film on the subject of Mr. Reeves’ life and death from being made. As it is, we’re left with just another 127 minute bore.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because I am plain tired and must soon toddle off to the bedroom environment to get my beauty sleep.
Today’s work session with Miss Joan Ryan was canceled, so I’ll be spending the day addressing packages and writing, not necessarily in that order. It looks like we may not be having a release party for the CD, as finding a venue is proving problematic. I was hoping to do it at the Colony, but the young woman (emphasis on the young and not especially bright) who books it doesn’t seem motivated to let us book their lobby for the event (why, I have no idea, since that’s her job and since I’ve brought her plenty of business), and LACC is problematic at this point. We’ll see what happens. It’s not a necessity, certainly, but I thought it would be a nice thing to do. Tonight, I’ll be dining with Mr. Zubrick himself, Cason Murphy.
I’ll be directing another one-person evening, this time for newcomer Merissa Haddad, the winner of the talent competition that I judged. I’m looking forward to doing it, as I like her talent and her energy and we seemed like a good match. The show will go up in early April, so we’ll be getting to work very soon.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, jog, write, address packages and dine. Today’s topic of discussion: What true-life crimes have most fascinated you – the ones where you had to read up on all the details or follow the case (if something modern)? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we?