Well, dear readers, as the clock approaches the midnight hour, I write these here notes. I wonder if the midnight hour gets weirded out by the clock always approaching, stealthily, like a gazelle in a flak jacket? I wonder if, when the clock gets to the midnight hour, what they talk about. Are they close? Friends? Lovers? I mean, the fershluganah clock is always approaching the midnight hour and the midnight hour never says boo about it. What the HELL am I talking about? This is what happens at the midnight hour. Those writing notes lose their sanity. Speaking of sanity, yesterday was a busier day than I’d planned on having. For example, I got up, and immediately had five telephonic calls and quite a few e-mails to deal with. I then had to go to Staples to print out two versions of the latest galley, as well as the new version of the script that I’m mentoring. They couldn’t get to them right away, so off I went to do some errands and whatnot. I did a lot of organizing and got the worst part of the kitchen counter cleaned off and it looks ever so nice there now. I then picked up the stuff from Staples, came home, and began making notes on the script I’m mentoring, as well as beginning to proof the right justified galley. We’ve decided to go with that one, just for a change. I got a little freaked out when I first started, because some of the spaces between words gets a little spacious because of the right justified business, but I checked about twenty major books from major publishers and they’re all like that, so I’m in good company. I grabbed a bite to eat, and then I had a nice telephonic conversation with our new set designer, Heather Wolensky. After that, I sat on my couch like so much fish.
Last night, I managed to watch two motion pictures on DVD. The first motion picture on DVD was entitled Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. I really didn’t have much interest in the film, but I liked its director’s first film, Run, Lola, Run so I took a chance. I don’t know why I was under the impression that this was based on a true story – it isn’t, but whatever publicity I saw on the film sure made it seem so. It is based on a novel that some find excellent. The story and film are very odd. While the trailers made it seem like a period serial killer film, it really feels much more like a sordid fairy tale, complete with narration spoken by John Hurt. In fact, there are times when it feels exactly like A.I. in tone, which leads me to believe that the film’s director, Tom Tykwer, is a fan of that film. The first twenty minutes of the film has some of the most disgusting imagery ever and I almost turned it off. Then it settles down and is one sort of film for most of its running time. Then, in its final third, it becomes something totally off-the-wall and unreal, which only strengthens the fairy tale feel (an adult fairy tale, to be sure). Of course, this film should have been in Smell-O-Vision, as the entire film is about the lead character’s unnatural and acute olfactory sense. He kills a lot of nice young women in order to get their scent and capture it in a perfume bottle. When he’s got all the scents, he combines them and this sends everyone into a love frenzy and people treat him like he’s an angel, even though he’s a mass murderer. Don’t ask. The cast is fine, with standout work from Alan Rickman. Dustin Hoffman is really odd as a maker of perfumes. It’s not a film I’ll ever need to see again. I didn’t hate it, but at two hours and forty minutes, it’s a bit of a slog. I then watched the second motion picture on DVD, which was entitled Looking For Mr. Goodbar. I hadn’t really seen it since it first came out – I did like it, although I really loathed its characters. It’s a time capsule now, but it holds up pretty well dramatically, and the ending, which was such a shocker back then (the audience literally sat in the theater unable to move), is as much a shocker today. Diane Keaton shines in the complex lead role, and there’s excellent supporting work from Richard Kiley, Tom Berenger, Tuesday Weld, and a host of others. The film introduced Richard Gere, and Richard Gere introduced the acting profession with a totally new kind of actor – the complete narcissist as actor. Mr. Gere’s subsequent performances confirmed him as the first of this new breed – today the cinema is filled with this sort of actor, from Brad Pitt on down. Curiously, this film has never been released on DVD – it was part of a batch sent to me by a friend. While it’s anamorphic and all, the colors are a bit faded, it’s soft, and looks dupey, so maybe the elements are in need of sprucing up.
What am I, Ebert and Roeper all of a sudden? Why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because the clock has reached the midnight hour, and they’re sharing a private moment.
Today, I’ll be spending several hours working on the script I’m mentoring, and then doing errands and whatnot and doing a Fed Ex shipment. This evening, I will possibly see a new documentary, which, if it happens, I’ll be looking very forward to.
I’m still awaiting word on our costume designer, lighting designer, and sound designer – perhaps today. And still no update on our fundraiser funds, so keep those excellent vibes and xylophones coming strong.
Tomorrow will be a proofing day – I have to put this thing to bed and that will be one less thing for me to be stressful about. I’ll also be talking to our casting director, and various and sundried other peoples. The weekend is actually pretty free at the moment, for which I’m glad.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, mentor a script (and score), drive about in my motor car, ship, and, at some point, proof and sup. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Desert Island time again, as we have so many new dear readers. What are the ten films you couldn’t do without on a desert island. Only ten – no double bills. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, as the clock and the midnight hour are waltzing away in blissful happiness.