Well, dear readers, I am sitting here like so much fish, listening to a fascinating and tonally interesting symphony by a Japanese composer named Kosaku Yamada. It’s kind of impressionistic, kind of like a tone poem, the musical language is really mesmerizing. There notes are mesmerizing – either that or their putting me to sleep – one of the two or maybe two of the one. And then, as if I wasn’t being culturally diverse enough, music-wise, now I’m listening to a Russian symphony by a Russian composer from Russia named Sergei Bortkiewicz, his second symphony which, thus far, is kind of melancholy. I don’t mind a little melancholy, but I do like to temper it by eating some melon. Anyway, it’s a nice accompaniment to writing. Earlier, I thought I was through with my viewing when I finished Drive-Away Dolls – it didn’t get better and grew even more smart-ASSy as it went along. The two lead actresses are very good, but it’s just one of those oh so cutesy and hip and smarmy “Look how weird we are” movie. Then in the final twenty minutes it just dissolves into a puddle of nothingness. For me, a complete waste of time – but thankfully, the time is mercifully short, about seventy=eight minutes sans the really long end credits. But, as it turned out, I was not through with my viewing because I forgot that PBS was airing a documentary about Blake Edwards called A Love Story in Twenty-Four Frames. As most here know, I love Blake Edwards – so much so that he plays a major role in my novel, Preview Harvey. While I’d seen Operation Petticoat and watched Peter Gunn, the name Blake Edwards hadn’t entered my consciousness yet. That happened, just as it happened to Preview Harvey, in 1960 when I saw a sneak preview of a motion picture entitled High Time at the Village Theater in Westwood. Back then at twelve, I thought it was hilarious and wonderful and I still like it quite a bit, although not as much as I did back then. And then Breakfast at Tiffany’s, which I loved, and after that a sneak preview, again at the Village, of Experiment in Terror, which I also loved hugely. At that point, I thought he could do just about anything. I loved his other TV series, Mr. Lucky, too. Then came another completely different kind of Blake movie, Days of Wine and Roses, which, of course, I loved. After that, it was The Pink Panther and the introduction of Inspector Clouseau. And even back then I thought that no other director directed comedy in scope the way he did – the way he used that ratio for gags. The A Shot in the Dark was lots of fun and filled with great gags. And then, my first Blake disappointment, The Great Race, which I know many love, but I found it too long and too labored, with occasional bursts of funny. The documentary doesn’t mention High Time and many other Blake films, but it covers a lot of his output, but not the real misfires, save for Darling Lili and The Wild Rovers, but both of those are now well thought of.
It’s mostly the Julie Andrews and Blake love story and it’s very sweet in that regard. The interviews are either people who knew and worked with him or other directors along with the ubiquitous Leonard Maltin. Anyway, it’s done very well and it comes highly recommended by the likes of me. The Russian symphony still has a melancholy feeling to it and it’s very appealing and tonal. I have to look up the composer and also the Japanese composer and search out some of their other work on the Tube of You. And here we are.
Yesterday, I got about six hours of sleep, got up, answered e-mails, then went to the mail place to pick up a package they forgot to give me the day before – more necessities. One must always have the bare necessities. I buy those things in bulk so that I can go six months or a year without having to think about them. I had hot dogs for food – very good – and later I ordered a slice of coconut fudge cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory. I opened it up when it arrived and it was top heavy and I couldn’t hold onto the slippery container and the entire thing tipped over onto the floor – yep, all of it came out of the container and went on the floor. I believe they could have heard my reaction and subsequent monologue in Pomona. I was so irritated, as you might imagine. I scooped up as much as I could that wasn’t actually on the floor, and ate some of it, but it’s not that appealing when it’s all mushed together like an abstract painting by a lunatic reading the works of Edna Ferber and Samuel Beckett at the same time, kind of like Waiting for Show Boat. Later, I had an English Muffin even though I was in the mood for a Finnish Muffin, and even later, I had some popcorn. The rest you know.
Today, I’ll be up when I’m up, I’ll do whatever needs doing, I’ll continue making a show order and we’ll work out the schedule, I’ll write commentary, I’ll eat, and then at some point I’ll watch, listen, and relax.
The rest of the week is more of the same plus some meetings and meals and perhaps seeing a show.
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 whatever needs doing, continue making a show order, work out the rehearsal schedule, write commentary, eat, and then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Ask BK Day, the day in which you get to ask me or any dear reader any old question you like and we get to give any old answer we like. So, let’s have loads of lovely questions and loads of lovely answers and loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy have seen the Blake Edwards documentary.