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November 15, 2007:

CHOMPING AT THE BIT

Bruce Kimmel Photograph bk's notes

Well, dear readers, this week is flying by like a gazelle in a wet suit. This is what happens when Monday is a holiday – suddenly it’s the end of the week when it doesn’t feel like the end of the week, if you get my meaning, end-of-the-week-wise. The last few days have been like summer, weather-wise, and it’s been very pleasantly pleasant here in the City of Studio. Even though I really wanted to relax from here to the end of the year, I’m already chomping at the bit to start writing (which I won’t do until January 1st), and I’ve pretty much decided to direct the next production of The Brain From Planet X. I have a few other things I’m toying with, and that’s what I’ll be concentrating on for the next few weeks. Oh, and my book signing and my birthday and whatnot. Speaking of whatnot, yesterday was an up and down day. For example, I got up. That was an up, not a down. I then had an annoying phone call (that was a down), but by the end of it things were okay. I then heard the update on the fundraiser check – it’s slowly moving forward, so I guess that was a down and up. I packaged up some things to ship but didn’t ship them (I will today). I had a Subway Club for lunch, then Cason came by and we went over a few things, then I did some errands, then I made some more book notes, and then I finally sat on my couch like so much fish.

Last night, I watched two count them two motion pictures, one that I TIVOd and one on DVD. The first motion picture, which I’d TIVOd, was entitled Stakeout On Dope Street, a really low-budget film from 1958, directed by Irvin Kershner. It really wasn’t very good, but it was very short, and had some nice bowling alley shots. I then watched a motion picture on DVD, which was entitled Jonathan Livingston Seagull, based on the book by Richard Bach. I’d never read the book nor seen the film – in fact, all I knew of Mr. Bach was that he was lucky enough to marry my favorite beautiful actress, Miss Leslie Parrish. I knew the film was a tremendous flop, and within fifteen minutes it was apparent why. It’s a bad movie, that’s why. I don’t know if the book works any better, but the pre New Age platitudes about finding your power within yourself, finding the ability to tell yourself you can do anything, to not be constrained by others, wore very thin very fast. Maybe that was more unique in 1973, but I doubt it. Certainly, the photography is handsome and Lee Holdridge’s orchestrations of Neil Diamond’s songs is lovely, but the film is just lethargic and mostly because of the disastrous voice performances. Clearly, the film’s director, Hall Bartlett, directed his voice actors to whisper, none more so than the voice of Jonathan, James Franciscus. It’s one of the most soporific performances I’ve ever heard, and it literally saps the film of drama, pace, and any chance of doing what Jonathan is talking about – soaring. Because of all the whispering, the music is mixed so low it might not as well be there at all. The live action seagulls are amazingly trained by the great Ray Berwick, but there’s also some subtle animation that’s very good. The transfer is very good – some flickering here and there (they pushed the film in the darker scenes, and the opticals are typical 70s grainfests), but perfect color, for which I’m always grateful. The original mono mix is not very good, but it’s what it is. The Neil Diamond songs are okay, but after the fourth one you want to just hurl your shoe through the TV. Not a film I ever need to see again, but, as always, over on the imdb there are people saying it’s their favorite film of all time. They must really buy into its message, which is a nice message, but, you know, a little clichéd.

Well, why don’t we all click on the Unseemly Button below because frankly I’m chomping at the bit to get to the next section.

Today, I must toddle over to LACC to deliver three ten CD silent auction packages to the head of the department – his church is raising money and I’m donating the thirty CDs. We’re going to have lunch at one of my favorite burger jernts, Cassell’s. In the late afternoon, I have a meeting with a manager who wants to pick my brain. I’m a bit tired of people picking my brain, so we’ll see how picked I want said brain to be.

Tomorrow, I have a bunch of errands to do, and then I’m finally seeing Little Fish, with my pals Greg Jbara, Alice Ripley, and Chad Kimball. The weekend is pretty clear, I think, which is nice. The following week gets much busier, and then, of course, there’s Thanksgiving.

Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, deliver CDs, lunch, do some whatnot, meet, have my Brain picked, and then relax. Today’s topic of discussion: Even though I neither drink or do drugs, those things sometimes make for excellent films – so, what are your all-time favorite movies about drinking and drug abuse? Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, as I continue to chomp at the bit.

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