Well, dear readers, I must now write these here notes in a hurry for it is way past the time they should have been posted but there is a reason, which I shall now explain. I was watching a motion picture. I turned it off so I could figure out the staging of a duet for our upcoming shoot. I futzed around, figured it out, and then wrote it down. As I was writing it down, I suddenly had quite the bout of nausea. I mean, quite the bout of nausea. I was quite worried about this bout of nausea, so I got into bed and lay quite still, for in the still of the night, if I’m quite still, sometimes I can get past the nausea, and I was bound and determined to get past the bout of nausea. I guess at some point while lying quite still in the still of the night, I fell asleep and that is why these here notes are late and being written in a hurry, because I arose at one o’clock. That is quite the tale, isn’t it. The nausea is a bit better now and a bit better is fine with the likes of me. The movie I was watching was one I’d been interested to see, Woody Allen’s Rifkin’s Festival. I got about thirty minutes in, and I must say it’s in the top five worst Woody Allen films ever, and that’s saying something. I cannot imagine it redeeming itself. The writing is terrible thus far. It certainly look good (photography by Vittorio Storaro), but it’s just stale as two day old toast and is so miscast that it never has a chance. In a role Mr. Allen should have played, we get the nebbishy but very unappealing Wallace Shawn. As his wife, we get one of my least favorite actors, Gina Gershon. I don’t know where you go from there. Occasionally, Mr. Shawn, who plays a writer who’s at a film festival with his publicist wife, has dreams inspired by films and filmmakers. At thirty minutes in, we’ve already had two of those and they’re kind of fun in their way, but not really funny, which is a problem. The first is a pastiche of the opening of Citizen Kane and the second is a Fellini pastiche of 8 1/2. Well, the problem with that is he’s done an entire film that’s a pastiche of that, entitled Stardust Memories. I’ll tough it out at some point today or tonight. I just checked the reviews, which are mostly very bad, with a couple of critics opining in a cheap way that it’s another Allen film in which the protagonist is married or dating a younger woman. Well, Ms. Gershon at the time of filming was 58 and the Spanish actress with whom Mr. Shawn is drawn to is in her forties. Hint: Those aren’t “younger women” in the sense these puerile reviewers mean. No matter that Shawn thinks his wife is going to cheat on him with a man twenty years her junior. Review the film, not the personal life of its maker.
Yesterday was okay. I only got five hours of sleep again. I’m beginning to think it’s still my body adjusting to going to be earlier than I have for the past two-and-a-half years, but part of me also thinks I wanted to watch the Darrell Brooks (“I do not consent to the use of that name, nor do I know such a person – I’m here as a third party intervener” – yes, that’s directly from the sovereign citizen playback and has nothing to do with actual law) trial, which is maddening, frustrating, but mesmerizing as he continually melts down and gets involved in ever more frequently loud matches with a judge who, trying not to give him any fodder for a mistrial, has been more than patient and who has played everything by the book. She’s unloaded pretty good, but he just talks over her, obnoxiously, until she finally gives him a final warning that she’ll remove him from the court. It’s such a waste of time, as are all his cross examinations, which focus on pointless topics and minutiae that help him not one whit. What he hopes the jury will think is unknown, but whatever it is it’s not gonna work. The problem for him is that he’s been identified by several eyewitnesses and there is clear video of the car and him. Hard to fight that. The testimony from people who were there and saw the vehicle plow through the parade, killing and injuring people, is sometimes heart-wrenching. His decision to represent himself is all ego, and in doing so he doesn’t understand objections or grounds or the rule of law. Yes, he’s using the notes of the people who would have represented him, and yes he reads things but clearly doesn’t understand them, and the prosecution is just so over it. In yesterday’s trial, he had a cherce meltdown where the jury had to be removed. It is not the judge’s job to school him in the law, nor can she, and it is not her job if he constantly asks for certified copies of things when that is a ridiculous and pointless ask. One can only shudder at the thought of the twelve witnesses he’ll be calling – his thirteenth witness subpoena was for the State of Wisconsin, which, of course, is utter balderdash and has been tossed out. At the lunch break (they’re two hours ahead), I went back to bed and slept another four hours, so that was good).
I did feel much better for most of the day, but then in the early evening, I didn’t feel better, which is so annoying and irritating, not necessarily in that order. Then the bout of nausea happened and that was the icing on that proverbial cake. Otherwise, we made a couple of small schedule changes, which includes doing all of the Kerry O’Malley Face Time calls on Monday, as we’ll have the time to do them. And I had a Zoom session with David Wechter. I had McDonald’s for food and maybe that was the source of the ultimate nausea hours later – who knows anymore?
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do some prep work for the shoot, I’ll go pick up a small package at the mail place, I’ll eat something at some point, but mostly I’ll rest my voice and watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow is the first of five days of shooting – it was originally supposed to be three, but that proved impossible in terms of locations. But tomorrow will be a fairly short day, I believe it’s from eleven to two. Monday will be a full day, and then we do all of Cindy Williams’ stuff, including her song, on Tuesday. On Wednesday we’re in a green screen studio for about four hours, and then Thursday’s another really short day, shooting at Vitello’s in our usual club. And that, as they say, will be a wrap for the ten episodes. Doug Haverty is working on the series logo – we’ve chosen a fun font for the main title and advertising, so he’s just figuring out how to use it. He also has to come up with a treatment for a faux product in a faux commercial.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up when I’m up, do some prep work for the shoot, pick up a small package at the mail place, eat something at some point, rest my voice, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: What was the last Woody Allen film you actually loved? I know most will say Midnight in Paris, but that wasn’t a favorite of mine. In fact, I’d have to go back to the 1980s for my answer, I think, although I’d have to peruse a list of the films subsequent to that decade, some of which I know people enjoyed. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, hoping to be over the bout of nausea and every other thing I’ve been fighting.