Though I took a few months off between touring Impossibly Funky around after 2010, I kept trying to work that publicity angle throughout the early part of 2011. I completed my second book tour in late May/early June and, in effect, I completed book touring altogether unless I suddenly find myself with some kind of lucrative publishing deal some day. I met a lot of great people but I sure didn't sell enough books to make the trip worthwhile.
A lot of the folks I met on my travels with Impossibly Funky in 2010 and 2011 ended up writing for me in the "Revenge of Print" issue of Cashiers du Cinemart. This came out a month early in August though I have yet to get all of the old school photocopied and stapled issues out to my distributor (and, thus, out to stores). In the meantime, CdC 16 is available via a print-on-demand service.
In March I co-founded a podcast, The Projection Booth. Since then there has been a new episode (or two) available each week. Nearly all of them feature interviews with the filmmakers behind the movies covered. It's been great connecting and/or re-connecting with folks and sharing my love of some terrific films.
Doing all of the research for the show has really helped bolster my confidence and led to benefits for other work that I've done in 2011 including the piece I wrote for the new Paracinema magazine all about horror parodies of the '80s and the chapter I wrote on Airplane II: The Sequel for an upcoming book from BearManor Media.
I had a blast hanging out with Greydon Clark in April at Horror Hound and in September. I'm still hoping to work with him on his autobiography (fingers crossed). I also had a lot of fun with the fine folks at the Blue Water Film Festival. BWFF marked the fist time that Chris Gore and I ever officially met (though we were both in The People Vs. George Lucas).
Along with Horror Hound and Blue Water, I also attended the CIMMFest in Chicago in April where I got to see the premiere of Freaks in Love, the Alice Donut documentary.
If you know me, you know how much I love to travel. 2011 marked the first year I'd been to Europe since 1991, and my first time on the Iberian peninsula. Andrea and I had a blast in Barcelona. I miss it just about every day.
Please feel free to go through the archives of this blog for more fun or check out the links below. Stay tuned in 2012 for more good stuff.
I knew that things were going to be good when we rounded the corner to our hotel (The Riviera) and saw that the Village People were playing there. That kind of made up for the Elvis show at the Aria being dark for the week.
Andrea and I went to Las Vegas from November 9-13 ostensibly to get re-re-marries on 11/11/2011. Fittingly, this is our 11th anniversary year and we had originally planned on getting married on 11/11/2001 until the date was changed on us. Long story. Let's just say that family politics were involved and we still shake our fists and gnash our teeth in anger over this one. Regardless, we were there to set the record straight and take advantage of the date. As it turned out, a lot of other couples were in Vegas with similar plans.
Our wedding was one of three that were performed within the twenty minutes we were at A Hollywood Chapel on Las Vegas Blvd. The place had it down to a science, including adding in all of the extra perks to charge people more money. "With the package you get a roll of film. If you'd like, we can give you digital pictures for $20 more..." "No, that's fine, we'll take the film." "With the package, you get the ceremony on VHS. For $30 more, we'll give you a DVD." "That's fine, we'll take the VHS."
There's no VCR in the building and the photographer was obviously using a digital camera. When we were getting ready to leave the same saleswoman told us that the officiant/minister was so nice that he bought us the upgrade. I think we were supposed to then tip him for his generosity but I think he would have been fairly surprised to hear that he'd paid $50 out of his own pocket for us. We laughed about this all day.
Weddings were in the air; one couple even got married on stage at the Village People concert that night as part of the encore. Alas, they were a hetero couple. I had hoped that the Village People might be a little more progressive than that. Maybe the boys were being on good behavior since Felipe's father was in the audience but they were posturing as very straight all evening.
I had figured that the guys going under the name "The Village People" these days would be six twentysomething dudes who might have seen Can't Stop the Music a couple times and knew the lyrics to "Macho Man" as a qualification. Surprisingly, apart from The Leather Man, all of the guys in the Village People had been in the band since 1980 or earlier.
Apart from a couple of teenagers, I think I was the youngest person there. The show was good though they didn't do as many of their original songs as I'd have liked. I had really hoped for more of a Live and Sleazy playlist with some Can't Stop the Music tunes in there too. They did some of their hits and a couple covers but I could have done for a few more hours of Village People music.
Most of our time was spent reading, walking, eating and gambling; in that order. On Thursday and Saturday I was in my glory as we got to hang out with Greydon Clark and Marly a bit.
The other high point of our weekend came just as we were leaving. We took a taxi from the hotel to the airport. The driver did the usual patter, asking us where we were from, asking about the weather and the politics happening in Michigan, and giving us a dismal forecast of the future. He seemed very down on the state of things as he and Andrea talked state funding. I almost said, "It's too early to talk politics," to try and shut him up but I'm so glad I didn't. As we went along we went past the Occupy Las Vegas camp the driver started telling us that the whole Occupy movement is actually a government-created plot to keep people busy, all headed up by a good friend of President Obama.
And then he went off the deep end.
"I'm going to tell you something that's going to blow your mind," he told us. I wished that I had started recording him because what he laid on us was an incredibly dense web of conspiracy theory nuttiness that just couldn't be topped. He told us that Barak Obama's real name was Barry Soetoro and that he had been to Mars as part of the colonization of our sister planet (via Tesla-based teleportation technology, 'natch). He spun this wild tale of Martians, the Rothchilds, and Queen Elizabeth II. When he was at a breaking point, with a straight face, I told him, "That's funny because I had heard something very similar but about Gerald Ford..." I went on to tell him a little bit of the plot outline of Mondo Ford. I hope like hell that he looked it up when he got home and believed every word of this Ricardo Fratelli classic:
The scariest thing about what this guy was spewing is that I just googled "Obama Mars Barry" and came up with two million hits.
Port Huron, a big little town at the tip of Michigan's thumb, played host to the third annual Blue Water Film Festival from October 6-8, 2011. One couldn't have asked for a better weekend. The sun shone, the breeze blew, and the clouds stayed away.
Things kicked on on Thursday night with a laugh. Comedian Dave Coulier did some stand-up at the McMorran Place Sports & Entertainment Center, the main location of the festival activities. I've never been a big Full House fan so some of the mullet jokes went over my head but I still had a good time.
The audience at the McMorran Place on opening night
Afterward, I headed over to The Vintage Tavern with festival organizers Jeremy Stemen and Kelly Kennedy along with Detroit Windsor International Film Festival bigwig Suzanne Janik. There I finally met Chris Gore. Yes, after twenty-some years, Gore and I were finally in the same room at the same time. Remarkably, the earth stayed in its orbit and sunspots failed to obliterate the moon. As evidenced by the introduction Gore penned for Impossibly Funky: A Cashiers du Cinemart Collection, we've managed to bury the hatchet over the years -- and not between our shoulder blades.
Festival Organizers Jeremy Stemen and Kelly Kennedy
At one point during the night Jeremy asked me if I'd like to be on the radio for an interview the next morning. "Sure!" I said, before he told me that he'd pick me up at 7AM. I quickly excused myself but still didn't find myself in bed until 2AM. Within moments of walking into the station I was sporting headphones and pontificating in front of the mic.
That became par for the course that day as I relied heavily on my ability to chat at the drop of a hat later on at the "Icons & Idols" panel discussion at The Alley Room that afternoon and later at The Vintage where I interviewed several of the filmmakers from and supporters of the Blue Water Film Festival. Fortunately, I had gotten warmed up earlier in the day with Sid Haig. In town for the big premiere of Douglas Schultz's Mimesis, Haig sat down with me for about an hour-long interview. Both the review of Mimesis and interview transcription are to come.
Mimesis cast members Gavin Grazer, Allen Maldonado, and Sid Haig at The Alley Room
That Friday evening was the big Mimesis screening. Some members of the cast showed up at McMorran in a limo to walk down the red carpet. My friend Gina--a huge Sid Haig fan--joined me and was stunned to get her picture taken with Haig before the show started. She even wore her Captain Spaulding t-shirt.
Mimesis speaks to Romero's Night of the Living Dead in some very clever ways. It's truly homage (as opposed to a rip off) and it was a blast seeing the film with such a large, enthusiastic audience. The Blue Water Film Festival went all out for the screening, too, with dozens of people dressed up as zombies who shambled around the theater lobby before and after the show.
Cute Zombie Couple at McMorran Place
Also, BWFF had a room next to the theater where, after the show, folks could meet the cast and get their Mimesis posters signed. This garnered a tremendous response with the last of the zombies being swept away after 1AM. Jeremy, Kelly and I headed back to The Alley Room for one last drink before turning in.
Saturday morning I went downstairs at the Thomas Edison Inn for a little breakfast where I was soon joined by Chris Gore and his girlfriend, Mary Forrest. Despite all of the fun things that I did at the BWFF, this was definitely one of the highlights of the weekend. We geeked out for hours, talking about movies, books, television, the web, and more. Gore shared some of the projects he's been cooking up including FetishVIL, a web series that sounds right up my alley. It's currently in the financing stages over at IndieGoGo.com/FetishVIL. I threw in a couple bucks as I'd love to see this come to fruition.
The majority of the films at the BWFF played on Saturday in three blocks at the McMorran Place. I had seen everything that played beforehand with the exception of one movie, Clean Break. I made sure to catch this one and, of course, found that it was right up my alley. The story of a struggling writer who also happens to be a skeleton, Ryan Lieske's Clean Break reminded me of the great, goofy stuff I used to enjoy every fall at Baltimore's MicroCineFest.
After the screenings it was time to give away some awards. I was glad that Kelly Kennedy went after me to present The Golden Mitten award to actor/director Timothy Busfield. She was wonderfully eloquent compared to my mush-mouthed stammering as I got up behind the lectern to present Chris Gore with the BWFF Golden Thumb award for his contributions to film. Here's the speech I tried to give before he came up to accept his award:
First off, I want to thank the Blue Water Film Festival for the honor of presenting this award. I've had a wonderful time this weekend and feel that I should be presenting the festival organizers and volunteers with an award for the great job they've done in putting together such a fine, fun festival.
But, I'm here to present an award to an esteemed peer -- a fellow film fan and movie nerd, Chris Gore.
It's funny but I think that I've known Chris for about twenty years but only finally met him this weekend. I was a fan of his invaluable movie magazine, Film Threat, since I was but a wee little geek, picking up copies at Thomas Video or Tower Records.
I'd pepper Film Threat with letter and, eventually, Chris and I began communicating via this new method: email. I can't say that Chris and I always saw eye to eye but we definitely were passionate about film in our own way.
Chris has given a lot to the movie community, sometimes to their chagrin. He's helped turn a lot of people on to films and filmmakers that flew under the radar in the pre-internet age. He provided feedback both directly through reviews and via parody. Chris's disarming and oft-alarming humor is legendary. He's also provided great insight to his fellow filmmakers and film fans with his many books including the Film Festival Survival Guide which, I hope, sits dog-eared on all of your shelves.
Films, books, television, the web -- Chris is vying for the title of King of All Media. Well, Chris, I can't give that to you, tonight, but I can give you the finger, er, oh, sorry, thumb. Thumb.
Yes, for all of Chris's achievements, it's my honor to award him with the first Golden Thumb award. Let's hear it for Chris!
Chris Gore accepting The Golden Thumb award
Me and Chris back stage at the McMorran Place
When the dust settled, here are all the filmmakers who received awards at this year's Blue Water Film Festival:
Best Actor Mike Kopera from "My Friend Peter"
Best Actress Lauren Mae Shafer from "Certain Essential Elements"
Best Screenplay Mike Kopera from "My Friend Peter"
Best Cinematography Benjamin Dell from "Senses & Nonsense"
Best Soundtrack Daniel Galeski Jr. from "Protangeline"
Best Director Jeremy Olstyn from "Strong From Detroit"
The Film Selection Committee Viewer's Choice My Friend Peter
Silver Award World of Art Submitted by Mike Allore
Gold Award Bullies on Vacation Submitted by Mike Zago
The Platinum Award The Dancer Submitted by Seth Stark
The next morning I met up with Jeremy, Chris, and Mary for a farewell breakfast. I was pleasantly surprised to find Sid Haig at our table as well. Again, we all sat and chatted for a few hours before rides to the airport started to arrive.
Port Huron is just a little over an hour away from my house and it was a beautiful drive down I-94 taking in all the colors of fall as I went.
My review of the B-Movie Celebration in 2010 was a rather whitewashed piece. I had fun while I was there, yes, but often in spite of the event itself. With expectations lowered appropriately, I kind of dreaded going back down to Franklin, Indiana in 2011 for another round of abuse.
The festival isn't all that bad. It's just that there's a lot of untapped potential there that I wanted to see come to fruition. If Cashiers du Cinemart writer Rich Osmond hadn't have been there, I would have skipped this year's event especially after so many of the announced guests and films ended up off the docket.
One of the biggest problems I have with the fest is the way that titles are trotted out and never happen. On the B-Movie Celebration Facebook group, there were three groups of films announced:
Out of the 89 35mm films from March 30, zero are on the final list.
Out of the 50 films from July 19, only 23 made the final cut (with two additional films not on any of the aforementioned lists).
Out of the 25 scheduled films, only eight were shown in 35mm.
Seeing movies on film is a big deal to me. As it was, the projection in the main theater--the ArtCraft--wasn't too bad, even the digital stuff.
Over Friday and Saturday we saw seven films. The first night we caught the new Jim Wynorski film, Camel Spiders, shot partially in Franklin, IN. The main creatures don't look like camels nor do they seem like they're spiders (it's called out at least twice in the film that they only have six legs). That aside, the movie would feel right at home on the SyFy channel with the cheesy special effects. It was good to see C. Thomas Howell in the film as the local sheriff, though I wish he'd had a little more to work with.
The second feature on Friday, Fred Olen Ray's Dino Wolf, proved to be most enjoyable. Maxwell Caulfield as the sheriff in this one was a real treat and really helped set the movie apart.
We started the next day with Varan: The Unbelievable, a Japanese film (Daikaijû Baran) that had been re-cut and padded out with American footage. The film really defies the viewer to pay attention to it. And, being shown at 10AM, several folks in the audience nodded off (including yours truly).
At noon we headed over to the (not so) Secret Theater. I'm not sure what purpose the building serves usually but two of its rooms had been turned into screening areas. We only went into the first one where it looked like paper had been tacked up onto the wall for a screen. The movie we caught, Tony Randel's Ticks, was terrific despite being marred by technical difficulties. It was shown in the wrong aspect ratio (making a lot of the female actresses' behinds look really big) and with the center sound channel completely missing. This rendered the music and sound effects perfectly audible with the dialogue completely muffled.
Despite this, I still enjoyed the film but we swore off going back to the Secret Theater for the rest of our time.
We headed back to the ArtCraft for the 1966 Batman movie. I'd never seen it before I it was quite a treat. I don't remember laughing so much at a movie in a long time.
I also did a lot of laughing at Roy Ward Baker's Legend of Seven Golden Vampires which was unintentionally hilarious, especially as some of the same sequences of film were used repeatedly; the movie seeming to start three times before finally moving forward.
Up next at the ArtCraft were the Golden Cob Awards. Knowing that I hadn't won anything, Rich and I adjourned to dinner for a while.
We came back for the festival's main attraction, a screening of Killer Klowns from Outer Space on 35mm with the Chiodo brothers as guests and a post-screening Q&A done by Joe Bob Briggs. I'd never seen KKFOS before so this was the ideal way to do it.
With the Secret Theater out and the fare at the ArtCraft not appealing we headed back to the hotel to talk about truck driving music.
When all was said and done, B-Movie Celebration was fine. Could have been better but it wasn't too bad. I'll probably be skipping out on BMC from now on, looking for an event that caters more to cinephiles.
I'm happy to announce that I'll be participating in the Blue Water Film Festival in Port Huron, MI.
I'm going to be their "man about town," interviewing filmmakers and generally acting like a nuisance. Perfect for me. It's too early to announce all the guests but two folks who will be there for sure include comedian Dave Coulier and Chris Gore. This will be the first time Chris and I are meeting face-to-face so that promises to be fun!
I'll be in attendance from October 6-8. Tickets are available here. C'mon out for a fun time watching some Michigan-made movies.
I've come to a decision. I'm never doing another book tour again. There's just too much overhead and not enough return. Yes, I had fun most of the time but I had quite a few disappointments as well.
I know better than to count on folks who say they'll attend events. I tend to count on maybe half of those who say they'll come out to actually do so. I was riding high up until Wednesday night.
I didn't expect to see a lot of people at the screening of Black Shampoo at the Cinema Arts Centre in Huntington, Long Island. Thus, I was pleasantly surprised when at least a dozen people showed up. The Q&A after the screening generated some good questions with one guy asking for my other favorite blaxploitation picks.
While the movie played, Dylan Skolnick and I hung out at the CAC's awesome concession area/lounge talking movies. And, after the show, CAC broke out the wine and munchies.
Books Sold: 3
Despite some miscommunications, the screening on Wednesday night at Brooklyn's reRun Theater went well. It was especially nice to have dinner with Dylan and Christine from Paracinema before the screening. The reRun has a wonderful little screening space with old automobile seats rather than chairs and some tantalizing gourmet grub. I highly recommend the popcorn with duck fat and garlic. Delish.
A great deal of familiar faces came out to the event including fellow MicroCineFest alum Mike Faloon who brought out some free copies of his book The Hanging Gardens of Split Rock for anyone who bought a copy of Impossibly Funky. I was thrilled to finally meet some folks that I had only ever talked to online including Mark Trahan, the fine folks at Cinema Knife Fight and Keith from Teleport City. Again confirming that the best part of the book tour is meeting people in real life that I've only ever conversed with via mail or email.
Books Sold: 4
Thursday we headed up to Midland, MA -- appropriately named as it's roughly halfway between Boston, MA and Providence, RI.
Almost as soon as we got in, I took off again, heading to the north of Boston for a meeting with Bill from Outside the Cinema podcast. We did an impromptu live broadcast. More movie talk and a lot of fun shooting the shit with him.
On Friday Andrea and I did the tourist thing most of the day, heading down into Boston and hitting a "hop on/hop off" bus tour of the city along with a couple of bakeries. We got back to Brookline, MA just in time for my reading at the Brookline Booksmith. Despite a terrific introduction by Booksmith's Evan Perriello, the reading was a bit of a bust. First, I kept flubbing lines. Perhaps that was due to the huge crowd that had gathered... all three people. At least one of them in the audience was Adam Blomquist, a fellow Paracinema writer.
Adam and Evan also later came to the screening of Black Shampoo at the Coolidge Corner. This put them in a pretty elite group of people as not very many other folks made the midnight show (despite a lot of folks telling me that they'd be there). I expected maybe twenty or thirty people to show up. I think that around ten did.
If I was disappointed by the number of "I'll be there!"s versus actual people in the audience in Boston... then Providence was devastating. First off, we got into the city right about 1PM after having some brunch at Evelyn's (featured on "Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives"). Little did I know that the planned tour of the city by the Providence by trolley wouldn't happen since it's not a "hop on/hop off" tour. It's one fucking trolley that does three tours a day in the summer. We missed it by a few minutes and didn't want to wait around for two hours until it came back. Instead, we headed to the mall and caught X-Men: First Class, which -- despite a great performance by Kevin Bacon and some awesome outfits on January Jones -- was more Coach class than First class.
I'm still not exactly sure what happened to dinner plans that night. Rather than things coming together smoothly as they had in Manhattan or Schenectady, it was a true cluster. Of the expected six people at our table (two of those being Andrea and me), we had three. Thank goodness that Cable Car cinema projectionist Josh Gravel showed up. After waiting over an hour for the rest of our party to show up, we finally gave up the rest of the table to some waiting patrons.
Waiting for people to show up that never did also happened at the theater where at least three "for sure"s ended up as no shows. I try not to have unrealistic expectations about people but these folks had been talking to me about my Providence trip for months. So, when they never came, called, or emailed (still), it stuck in my craw. The few folks that came out to the Cable Car seemed very into Black Shampoo and it ended up being a pretty good night for sales.
Books Sold: 3
And, on Sunday, I drove us back all the way from Midland, MA to Westland, MI. This gave me plenty of time to think about how going out on tour for the book may not have been that great of an idea. Yes, I had a lot of fun seeing old and new friends. The people who helped me set up the events were all very cool and everyone that came out seemed to have a good time. I'm glad I helped spread the word about Black Shampoo, Angels Brigade, Satan's Cheerleaders, Without Warning, Shock Treatment, and Miami Blues and, hopefully, Impossibly Funky.
I want to thank everyone again who showed up and/or helped make these gigs happen. The screenings were truly a pleasure, albeit a very expensive one. Maybe all of the time and money will help make the next book more of a success...
Today's one of the two days amongst the tour dates with no official items on the agenda. The next one will be Thursday.
Andrea and I drove through a lot of Pennsylvania on Thursday (5/26), stopping for dinner in State College, PA for some dinner and narrowly avoiding an oncoming storm. We drove ahead of the storm front for a while before it caught up with us just outside of our evening's destination, Hazelton, PA. The radio was alive with storm warnings and reports of tennis ball-sized hailstones.
All was calm the next morning when we made our way to Jersey City, NJ to stay at the Holland Motor Lodge; a stone's throw from the Holland Tunnel. We had quite an adventure trying to get from Jersey City to NYC via the PATH train. We rode back and forth between two stops, changing trains three times before we finally got the right one to take us to the World Trade Center stop. A quick trip on the E line got us up to Lucky Strike, a nice little eatery where we met up with friends -- Dylan and Christine from Paracinema Magazine, Lisa and Alan from the Cinekink Film Festival, Impossibly Funky contributors Leon Chase and Skizz Cyzyk (all the way up from Baltimore), and Cristina from 92Y -- the host of that evening's activities.
92Y really surprised me. There wasn't just the one theater but a few spaces. The room where we screened Miami Blues and Shock Treatment sat about fifty people. A few more friends and acquaintances showed up to the screening. I got a lot of compliments about Miami Blues. Most of the folks there had missed it on its initial theatrical release and never caught up with it on video, afraid it was "just another Alec Baldwin movie" -- apparently The Marrying Man soured a lot of people. I tend to bill it as a Fred Ward movie, despite Ward taking a back seat to Baldwin's terrific sociopath character. I found out last night that some people thought director George Armitage was "something like an Alan Smithee" -- having never heard of Armitage before, and since the movie felt and looked a lot like a Jonathan Demme film. This makes my determination to find Armitage for the upcoming Projection Booth episode on Darktown Strutters even more of a priority.
When I originally pitched movies to Cristina I suggested Phantom of the Paradise and Shock Treatment as kind of a Jessica Harper musical double feature. She was able to get her hands on Shock Treatment but then found that Phantom was set to play a few times in the NYC area.
Okay, how about Miami Blues, Cockfighter or The Woman Chaser as kind of a Charles Willeford tribute? Cockfighter was out as they'd shown that before and, apparently, The Woman Chaser is embroiled in legal trouble. But she found Miami Blues.
All right, then, how about a Miami Blues and Remo Williams: The Adventure Begins double feature? Could be a "first movie in a series that never happened starring Fred Ward" night?
Alas, no. Miami Blues and Shock Treatment it was. Now, I'm a fan of Shock Treatment, though I know it has some serious flaws. Yet, I kind of knew that I'm in the minority on that one. We got some Rocky Horror fans and even some Shock Treatment "shadow casters" at the screening but I don't think anyone else walked out without sharing the same sentiment of, "Well, I never need to see that again..."
Books Sold: 3
The next day we drove up to Schenectady NY -- not to be confused with Synecdoche, New York. There's a film society co-run by long-time Cashiers du Cinemart contributor and fan Paul Kazee called It Came From Schenectady. They played a double feature of Greydon Clark movies, Without Warning and Satan's Cheerleaders on Saturday night to a pretty good-sized crowd. I think there were more people -- and definitely more people I didn't know -- in the audience than I had in Manhattan. Schenectady should be proud that there are so many film fans around the area.
Not only did I get to meet Paul after all these years but I went out to dinner beforehand with Bob Plante (and his lovely wife, Tammy) of Gravedigger Video. That's one thing I love about these book tours is finally meeting up with folks I've talked to online or even through letters (remember those?) for years.
Books Sold: 3
Day three had us driving farther north through the beautiful scenery of New York up into Canada, arriving in Montreal in the afternoon.
Montreal, and maybe Quebec overall, is a strange place.
I grew up close to Windsor, Ontario, and always found it interesting how everything in Canada has to be bilingual -- displaying English and French versions. Packages, menus, street signs, etc. all had to have the two languages. However, driving into Quebec yesterday I found myself at a loss, only seeing French signs/messages with a paltry amount of English. Do the Quebecois not have to display the two languages the same way that other provinces do? I'm also curious if the provinces farther to the west display French and English or if it's only Ottawa.
Thanks to my pal Dion Conflict, last night the Blue Sunshine Psychotronic Cinema Space played a 16mm copy of Greydon Clark's Angels Brigade (AKA Angels Revenge AKA Seven from Heaven). Blue Sunshine's space is terrific. It's big enough to be comfortable and small enough to be intimate, like watching movies in your friends' living room. About a dozen folks showed up including a lot of folks I've talked to on Facebook. The screening went really well and the best part was hanging out and bullshitting about movies before and after. I hope Montreal knows what a service Blue Sunshine provides. If I lived here I'd be going to their screenings every chance I got. Even in this next week they're showing amazing stuff that I wish I was sticking around for including a 16mm print of Joe starring Peter Boyle.
Books Sold: 5
More reports fro the road when time permits... Starting tomorrow (Tuesday) night the Black Shampoo begins with the first of four(!) screenings.
The weather could have been better. Walking from the festival HQ (the basement of a converted church where we saw Color Me Obsessed) to the theater where we caught Freaks in Love, we managed to get soaked to the bone by a torrent of freezing rain. The next day was a little better when the rain gave way to snow... in the middle of April.
Color Me Obsessed proved to be an interesting experimental documentary. It's the first time that I've seen a doc about a band (in this case, The Replacements) where none of the band's members, music, or even album covers made an appearances. Director Gorman Bechard did some very clever workarounds to that end and even employed some techniques that I wish more traditional music documentaries would do, such as going album by album by the band featured and displaying the track listing. He also put The Replacements into context a bit by describing their album sales compared to other albums released the same year. Alas, I was unaware of The Replacements as a young punk rocker and only knew them from their last few alternative radio-friendly albums. I didn't know that they could rock out. Also, they're one of those bands that carried a lot of emotional baggage for me as they were my ex-wife's favorite group. Putting those things aside, I would have liked to have heard their music and judged for myself during Color Me Obsessed but that was not to be. The "trick" of not featuring The Replacements's music wore out its welcome for some viewers but the film managed to hold my interest, even as my legs were falling asleep on the uncomfortable church pews where I saw it.
I don't necessarily feel right reviewing Freaks in Love since my good friend and Cashiers du Cinemart contributor Skizz Cyzyk edited and co-directed it. Let me just say that it was terrific seeing the full film after having seen clips over the last year. I think I can be unobjective enough to posit that Freaks in Love is as good (if not better) than a lot of the band documentaries people will see. It won't get a huge buzz because the people in Alice Donut aren't huge drug abusers and don't hate one another. In that way, Freaks in Love isn't a typical band documentary. Hell, they even got together after they broke up for a while so there isn't the big rift between members of the band that we expect to see in the usual fare.
Speaking of dysfunctional bands, drug abuse, and insanity... there's so much of it in directors Don Argott & Demian Fenton's Last Days Here that I kept wondering if the movie was a mockumentary. It didn't help that I'm completely unfamiliar with the band Pentagram. Likewise, though a lot of people discuss their music throughout Last Days Here, there's very little of the music on the soundtrack. Or, at least, there's not enough of it to justify the heaps of praise that the documentary's participants heap at the feet of the band.
Since seeing Last Days Here I downloaded some Pentagram music and I'm not unimpressed, though it doesn't seem to blaze any trails that Black Sabbath didn't. The idea that Pentagram is some kind middle ground between Sabbath and the Sex Pistols really doesn't hold water for me. Plus, I'm not even sure if that's chronologically accurate.
Regardless, Last Days Here is a fairly fascinating work. I walked away with some nagging questions (What happened to Bobby Liebling's parents after he moved out of the sub-basement? How much were they enabling him? How'd he get his hands on so much crack? How in the world did they get so many people to that NYC Pentagram show?) but I've been able to sleep without having them disturb me too badly.
Sunday we caught The Anatomy of Vince Guaraldi (reviewed in another post) before we headed down the highway back to Detroit.
I'm heading out to Chicago in April for the Chicago International Movies & Music Festival. I'm going specifically for the premiere of Freaks In Love, the Alice Donut documentary co-directed by my good pal Skizz Cyzyk.
Freaks in Love (USA)
4/15/11 10:00 PM
Society For Arts: 1112 N. Milwaukee Ave
This is 25 years in the world of underground rock, as seen through the eyes of freakshow psych-punk band Alice Donut. From the glory days of CBGB to grinding nationwide tours in beat-up vans to the big time (sort of) opening for Blind Melon, Alice Donut lived indie music. We know the story of the bands that went international, led by Nirvana, but Freaks in Love is the story of the rest of the scene. Featuring Jello Biafra and the Meat Puppets. In person: Directors Skizz Cyzyk and David Koslowski, along with members of Alice Donut World Premiere Director: Skizz Cyzyk & David Koslowski Documentary: 100 min.
The winter weather in New York messed with our travel plans a bit. Rather than heading to NYC in the afternoon on Friday 1/28, we went to Cincinnati early in the morning where we hung out for five hours before going over to JFK. We had a three hour layover there but still almost didn't make it. We sat on the tarmac for almost the entire time, waiting for a gate. It never opened. We went from the plane to the terminal on a bus where we ran to the Airtrain which took us to another terminal where we had to go through security again. By the time we got to our gate, the flight was boarding. That's not to say we took off shortly thereafter. We sat on the tarmac in this new plane for over an hour, awaiting the de-icing process. In all, we sat in planes waiting on the ground longer than we had been in the air between Detroit and New York.
By the time we got to Barcelona, we'd been up for over 24 hours.
I wasn't planning on doing a whole lot in Barcelona. Usually when Andrea and I go traveling we spend every other day taking local excursions while hanging out by the pool and reading on the others. Certainly warmer than Michigan, the weather wasn't quite warm enough to do much (outdoor) pool-dwelling (much less enjoying the legendary Barcelona beaches). Moreover, our hotel (the Hotel Rey Juan Carlos I) didn't really encourage much hanging out. The hotel restaurants (those open during the winter) had odd hours and high prices. Our room didn't have a fridge so there went stocking up on food during our stay. Fortunately, we had a few local restaurants where we could grab a bite in the afternoon when we finally roused (our body clocks just didn't want to adjust to the six hour time difference).
We did a lot more touristy stuff than I thought we would. On our first awake day, we headed downtown to the Placa de Catalunya where we bought a two-day tourist bus pass. We'd done the tourist bus thing in Philadelphia and NYC and found that the whole "hop on/hop off" thing agrees with us.
The bus took us to all of the "must see" places in Barcelona. All the stuff that you know you need to see to tell the folks back home like the Gaudi-designed stuff (Sagrada Familia, Park Guell, etc). We didn't get out out at Sagrada Familia as I was afraid that the church would collapse had I gone inside. We did hop off at Park Guell and enjoyed the sights until it started to rain. This was our only spot of bad weather, of course.
We saw a lot of Barcelona from the top of that bus. The tours are given in ten languages via headphones and recorded programs. I missed the constant banter of a human tour guide and being able to ask questions. The recorded guy was pretty dry and didn't give us any of the real dirt on the city. We used the bus to get us close enough to our hotel where we were only one Metro stop away.
The Metro system in Barcelona is great. It only took us a few trips to figure out how to tell which direction we needed to go (the final stop of the line in either direction indicates this). Each trip is € 1.45 but the price goes down with multi-day passes. We did ourselves a disservice by never figuring out all the different varieties of tickets available. We did too many "one-trip" tickets rather than just buying a five-day from the beginning. The Metro stops are plentiful and well-marked. By the third day we felt secure enough to head all the way across town to the Diagonal Mar mall (Americans going to the mall? Perish the thought!).
At the mall, Andrea shopped while I went to the movies. I wanted a Spanish cinema experience since the movie theater I really wanted to attend, Phenomenon, wasn't having it's next showing until after we left. The matinee for The Tourist cost € 8. I didn't bother with popcorn as I got in late and didn't want to miss anything. I got to see previews for a lot of movies that have come out and left theaters already in the U.S. I had been curious if the movie would be in English with Spanish subtitles or dubbed. It was dubbed. However, I really didn't have much problem following it. Having seen enough films, especially Hitchcock films, the plot didn't present any problems. And, it was nice just looking at the beautiful people on screen (Jolie and Depp), no matter what was coming out of their mouths.
I had suspected that language wasn't going to be a problem in Barcelona. While in Germany, more people knew English than not. I figured the same would hold for Spain and it did. Nevertheless, I still did my best to torment the natives with my horrible Castilian Spanish. Quite a few times I worked in Spanish while the person I spoke to worked in English with us meeting with understanding somewhere halfway.
Barcelona is a trilingual city. I found most signs/pamphlets/maps/etc written in Castilian, Catalan and English. I found myself flummoxed when going into stores where Catalan was the sole language on signs. I had no idea how to pronounce things as Catalan uses a lot of Xs and I didn't know if these should have a K sound or a Sh sound. I'll risk looking like an idiot when I say that Catalan looks a lot like a mix of Castilian and French.
One of the places with only Catalan signs was Dunkin Coffee (the European version of Dunkin' Donuts). Almost as soon as I attempted to order some coffee the girl behind the counter asked, "American coffee?" Yes, please. Give me some American coffee.
When learning Spanish one of the first lessons is the restaurant situation where you summon the waiter and order coffee. What the teachers should let you know is what to expect when the coffee arrives. I take my coffee with cream and sweetener. I would order "cafe con leche y azucar." I'd get a little cup of espresso to which the waiter would add an equal part of milk. Okay, no problem. But don't think that this is the ubiquitous "bottomless cup" that one finds in diners/coney islands around the U.S.. Each cup is going to cost you. And, man, didn't I get some weird looks when I ordered two or three cups with breakfast? "What, are you sleepy?" one waitress asked me.
As for that "American coffee"? That was the only time I got more than a demitasse of coffee. I got about sixteen ounces of espresso with just a touch of milk. Very bitter but it did remind me a bit of home. And, for the record, I was not about to go into any of the several Starbucks I saw in the city. I wanted coffee, not motor oil.
Just to talk about beverages for a few more seconds; be aware that the restaurants in Barcelona don't serve tap water with meals. All the water is bottled -- either with bubbles or without. This can add up when you've been programmed to stay hydrated.
Mealtimes in Barcelona proved to be a little challenging for us. Not the meals, but the times. Lunch starts around 1PM and lasts until about 3PM while dinner doesn't usually begin until 8PM or later. We went to one restaurant three times -- Maitea Taberna. The first time we thought they were closed even though we could see people inside and it was only 10PM (they're open until 12AM). We tried them again a few days later, arriving at 7PM. Wouldn't you know, that same door wouldn't open for us? Wouldn't you know that I was pulling on the wrong door? "Empujar" is the word for "push" -- another of the few signs that wasn't translated in English. The place was nearly empty at 7PM. When we came back two days later at 8PM we found that all of the tables had been reserved. Not to worry -- most of them were reserved for 10PM or later. We promised to eat quickly and give up the table. By 9PM we were cashing out.
Apparently, Americans don't linger too much after a meal. At least, we don't. Everyplace we went I found that I had to ask for the bill. "Me gustarÃa la cuenta, por favor."
Can you tell that we did a lot of searching for and eating at restaurants? Maitea was a favorite and very reasonable (great tapas at € 1.50 a piece when some places would advertise a bargain at four pieces for € 20). I also really liked La Bombeta. We got quizzed a bit by the people at the table next to ours as to how we found the place. It wasn't a scene from The Slaughtered Lamb but they were a little suspicious how tourists could have found a place for locals. I wanted to say, "Se llama internet." There's a sign on the wall, written in Spanish, that they don't speak English at the restaurant. By the time I got there (day five or six), I was comfortable enough to only speak Spanish and didn't see if the folks at the restaurant were just being ironic.
When eating around our hotel, we frequented El Pati Blau. The dishes felt a little upscale but the prices weren't. Even more than the great food, the staff here was terrific.
If you're dining in Barcelona, be aware that you've got to order some "pan con tomate" -- simple bread with olive oil and hint of tomatoes. It's cheap and delicious. Some places dress it up with anchovies or olive puree. I had some great pan con tomate at one place that I can't recommend overall as I got sick after I ate there. I haven't had food poisoning in a long time but I lost my pan, paella, and sangria a few hours after I had it. I blame the muscles.
I think my favorite meal of the entire trip, no matter how silly this may sound, was when we went to a market on La Ronda where we bought fresh fruit, ham sandwiches, apple tarts, and sangria. We took that all back to our hotel for a feast in our room. Delicious.
We walked up and down La Ronda a few times, making almost daily sojourns to the market for evening snacks or cheap fruit smoothies. I saw the market the first time from across the street at The Museum of Erotica. That's the only museum we went to in Barcelona. For € 8 (we got a coupon via the tour bus) each, we enjoyed the sights. Overall, the museum is a little uneven. The museum is set up to take the patron through a history of erotica. It starts with old phallic and earth mother symbols before going into far too many pictures of Kama Sutra reproductions. We then jump to 18th and 19th century dirty drawings. There's just a little bit of Playboy fluff before you enter a room of fetish photos and paintings. There are a lot of holes in the centuries and decades along with missing media. No Tijuana Bibles, no burlesque, etc. I won't say I'm an expert on porn, but I seemed to know more than was represented at the museum. Regardless, it was a nice way to spend an afternoon.
Looking back at this post, I see that I spent a lot of time talking about coffee, food, and the Metro. Really, that's all you need to know about Barcelona. The rest is gravy. See whatever tourist stuff you want to see. Do your best to speak Spanish if you can (I mean, it's just more polite to at least attempt the language). Wear comfortable shoes. And, above all, just enjoy it.
Big thanks to my pal Nick Kujawa for hooking us up with a lot of suggestions and info before we even left. All of it was very helpful.
I'm excited and anxious about a trip to Spain that Andrea and I are taking at the end of January/beginning of February. Neither of us have been to Spain. We'll be staying in Barcelona at the Hotel Gran la Florida.
I've been looking at old episodes of "Bizarre Foods" and "No Reservations" as well as documentaries on Gaudi. I'm hoping to talk some of the guys from the Sitges Festival up to Barcelona tener una cervesa con elles. I've also heard about a new screening series called Phenomena and a festival, DocsBarcelona that should coincide with the trip, though I'm not sure how many movies I'll be up to seeing. Here's hoping I can catch up on a lot of reading and maybe some writing as well as movie watching while on the long plane flight.
If you've any suggestions on things to do or see, please let me know.
It's the ultimate horror triple feature on Friday December 3, 2010 (Doors Open 7pm)
Portage Theater
4050 N. Milwaukee Ave
Chicago, IL
1.773.736.4050
7:30 - Trailer Trash (Vintage Horror Trailers)
8:00 - Day of the Dead - 25th Anniversary of George Romero's classic film with Lori Cardille (Sarah) & Gary Klar (Steele) in Person!
10:00 - Black Death (Medieval Murder Madness - Midwest Premiere!)
12:00 - If A Tree Falls (U.S. Premiere of Brutal Canadian Insanity!) With Special Guests in Person: Philip Carrer (Director) Ryan Barrett (Lead Actor) Chad Archibald, (Producer)
FREE AUTOGRAPHS & PHOTOS with all special guests!
Plus: Dealer Tables with Super Deals, Short Films, Prizes, Surprises, a live charity auction for Vital Bridges and much more!!!
For fourteen years Detroit author/editor Mike White toiled nights and weekends on his movie zine Cashiers du Cinemart. Starting as a scrappy xerox and stapled publication, the zine mutated over time to a magazine with international distribution, long after the siren song of the internet wooed most small publishers to its cheap epublishing. Now, the best of Cashiers du Cinemart has been collected into one volume, 2010's Impossibly Funky, a treasure trove of articles about film and popular culture.
White will be appearing with various guest stars in a Midwest tour in Autumn 2010, reading, signing copies of his first book, and doing occasional movie/shorts screenings.
November 17 - Copacetic Comics - RSVP on FB - 3138 Dobson Street, Pittsburgh PA 15219 (WSG Cover illustrator Jim Rugg)
I'm sitting in a hotel room. A weak lamp lights my keyboard. A bottle of beer sits at the ready. If only I was in a huddled in some fleabag dump clacking away on a typewriter. That might play better for a tale of Noircon 2010...
This was my third time hitting the Society Hill Playhouse for a weekend of dark detective fun (Goodiscon in 2007 and Noircon 2008). Each time it seems that I speak with a few more people. Perhaps this core group provided a foundation or that I've been forced to come out of my candy-colored shell with the book events I've been doing lately but this third time around I really felt a strong sense of camaraderie with this eclectic and talented group of people.
Day One As I already wrote, things started off with a bang for me on Wednesday night's Brickbat Books signing. On Thursday night Noircon proper began with a screening of Larry Withers's David Goodis: To a Pulp. My face burned in embarrassment every time I was on screen. I appreciated seeing the movie with an audience, though, and feel like I got a lot more out of it this time around. I have been hesitant to write a full review because of my involvement with this project (conflict of interest) but think my role is small enough (and the documentary important enough) to forgive.
Day Two The first full day of Noircon started off with a bang. A discussion of pornography and noir hosted by Reed Coleman with Jay Gertzman and Christ Faust set the tone for the entire event, mixing intellectual discourse with seat of the pants commentary. Coleman engaged the panel while challenging the audience. From the back of the cabaret David Corbett kept everyone honest and helped foster an attitude of free expression. He wasn't afraid to call bullshit when needed, as often was when talks became mired in semantic masturbation. By day two anyone who asked for a definition of noir got a response that might make a sailor blush.
In the afternoon Laura Lippman did a wonderful job of getting fellow author (and David Goodis award winner George Pelecanos to open up. Later, Ed Pettit and Robert Polito presented an hour of noir poetry with Pettit providing a stunning interpretation of Joseph Moncure March's "The Set-Up" - a poem about boxing that rippled with a hardboiled beat which informed Robert Wise's film of the same name.
That night I hooked up again with Chris Cummins for a couple beers and a meal fit for a king -- corndogs and tater tots -- at Sugar Mom's before I headed down to South Philadelphia. On the bus to Grindcore House where I finally met Joseph Gervasi (of Bizarre Videos and Exhumed Films) I started getting a series of texts from folks at Mummer's Museum where the Noircon Awards were underway. Their pleas and the promise of an open bar wooed me away from Joseph's documentary screening. I'm a weak man when endless, free gin & tonics are involved.
From the Mummer's Museum folks started trickling over to the bar at the downtown Double Tree which was soon taken over by a slew of Noircon attendees. As I guzzled more gin I bent poor Duane Swierczynski's ear about Brian De Palma for far too long. After he disappeared (running for his life, no doubt), I hitched a ride back to my hotel where I passed out, cursing that the next day's 9:15 AM presentation sounded too interesting to sleep through.
It was.
Day Three Joan M. Schenkar presented a slide show of Patricia Highsmith pictures (and charts) she'd unearthed during her years of research for The Talented Miss Highsmith. This lead perfectly into the subsequent panel on Highsmith's Ripley in film. Tracing the life of a fictional character depicted in multiple films from several countries over many decades hits my sweet spot. Presenters Richard Edwards and Thomas Kaufman got me where I lived.
The afternoon had its ups, its downs, its laughter, and tears through a few presentations that included a moving tribute to Busted Flush Press honcho David Thompson.
Though program guide promised us much more Megan Abbott -- a fellow Michigander and one of my favorite people -- she was only able to attend one panel before heading back to NYC. A shame. But, the panel that replaced her in the afternoon -- a discussion by former private investigator David Corbett and former reporter Wallace Stroby provided purple prose about colorful characters.
The day's program over, Richard Edwards, Christa Faust, her dog Butch, and I walked over to the Double Tree where I resumed my position at the bar for a marathon bullshit session. A revolving cast of characters joined and departed but most of my attention went to Richard and Christa as we discussed important things like comic books, belly button fetishists, Stormbringer and Star Wars. After a while something bizarre happened where Richard and I transformed. Two mild-mannered men sitting in a hotel bar suddenly hulked out into two wild-eyed raging fanboys who locked horns in a wild discussion of George Lucas, his career, his mentors, and his impact on history. This took us on some wild tangents, through moments in our lives better left untold, and left us spent, tipsy, and dazed some five hours later. I collapsed off of my bar stool and called for a taxi.
It's odd. I don't drink that much when I'm in my neck of the woods. I suppose that's because I don't go out too often, much less to bars where I hang out with a bunch of writers and/or film geeks. I usually save my writer/film geek discussions for Baltimore... as well as my drinking. But this Noircon was a gin-fueled barrage of "Did you ever read...?" and "Have you ever seen...?" up the banks of the Schuylkill and down the Delaware.
Day Four The folks showing up on the final day of Noircon often did with a hungover and haggard look about them. We had made it. We ran the race and managed to cross the finish line. And, for that, we got the brass ring. Or, at least, the bottle of J&B. I picked mine up in the Russian Roulette raffle where you lost if your number was drawn first... or something like that. By the end, no one knew what the fuck was going on as our MC, the affable Charles Benoit, pulled numbers out of a bag and people were showered with gifts of booze and books.
One of the final panels before the doors of history closed on yet another successful Noircon included the guy with whom I was mistaken for most this year, David White (only because of our surnames, he's far more handsome than I am) and one of my heroes, the erudite Howard A. Rodman (who was accidentally rechristened as "Howard A. White" for the panel). Tying the Fantomas crime fiction to the various media in which the character has been adapted and portrayed throughout 99 years scratched that same itch that Edwards and Kaufman had with their Ripley discussion. They done me right.
Though I came with luggage leaden with a score of books that I sold at Brickbat, delivered to people who preordered Impossibly Funky via IndieGoGo, or put on consignment with Farley's Bookshop (the official dealer of the show... and we were willing junkies), I left Philadelphia dangerously close to breaking the 50 pound barrier with the airlines again. I'm smuggling back the used books I picked up near my hotel, the books I won in the raffle, and those I bought from Farley's. It's tough to talk books with so many talented authors for four or five days straight and not pick up some titles, especially those of the people you've been talking to.
The only post-Noircon activity I could make was like taking an alcoholic to the bar... it was a trip to a bookstore (Robin's Bookstore for a discussion of the recently released Akashic collection, Philadelphia Noir (or "nwah" if you will). The audience bolstered by a cadre of authors and Noircon participants, the event seemed a huge success and ended just in time to hitch a ride to the airport for the trip back to a world in which your first question to a stranger isn't often, "And what did you write?"
Huge thanks to everyone I talked to, met, and bothered at Noircon 2010, especially Deen Kogan and, man among men, Lou Boxer. Brilliant.
Just mapping my walking route for when I'm in Philadelphia the first week of November. I'm sitting here watching the Food Network's number one Food Porn show, "Best Thing I Ever Ate" and there's a deli in Philly that I must visit - Sarcone's.
Despite my better efforts, I've not gotten a whole lot of response and support for my upcoming event in Cleveland, OH (with the big exception of the Cleveland Movie Blog). I will be at Visible Voice Books at 7PM on Saturday, October 2, 2010.
So far I know of exactly one person that's going to be at Visible Voice besides me. If no one else shows up, at least I know I'll have fun chewing the fat with author Wred Fright.
During the day I'll be at Cinema Wasteland. Not as a presenter or dealer but as an attendee. I'm hoping to give Herschell Gordon Lewis his copy of Impossibly Funky since he was kind enough to pen the introduction for me.
If folks attending Cinema Wasteland are interested in coming by Visible Voice in the evening, here's a map from one location to the other (approximately a 22 minute drive):
I'm slowly working on putting together a tour of Impossibly Funky. I've been reaching out to a bunch of bookstores and looking for others with the hope of doing a reading, signing, and/or movie screening. Everything's still pretty up in the air but here's what I've got penciled in so far:
September - The book won't be out yet but I'll be supporting it and at the 2010 B Movie Celebration in Franklin, IN (Sept 24-26). I'll be moderating the directors' roundtable and maybe some other fun stuff. Also, while I'm over there, I'd love to see if I can hit a hipster store in Indianapolis -- does such a thing exist?
October - Still hoping to get a consensus on what day/time will work best to get the biggest turnout at an event at the Burton Theater in Detroit for a book release party. It'd be a reading/signing and screening of Black Shampoo as well as some shorts. So far the leader of my poll seems to be Sunday afternoon.
October will also be the month of my blog tour. If you're unfamiliar with what that means, it's that I'm going to hit up thirty (or so) bloggers to review the book and post reviews on a daily schedule. This can also include podcasters. Then every day I'll be tweeting and facebooking the shit out of these reviews/podcasts. I've been making a list of some hip film blogs but I'm open to suggestions. If you have any particular favorites (or want to be a part of the madness), please leave a comment.
November - Will November spawn a monster? Perhaps. The first weekend of the month I'll be attending Noircon 2010 in Philadelphia. I've been trying to extend my stay a day before or after Noircon to do an event at a local bookstore. Of the two stores I've solicited so far, neither have gotten back to me. Hopefully I'll either hear from them soon or will find another hip store to welcome me.
A few weeks later I'm planning on driving down to Baltimore for a weekend of debauchery with my old friends from the MicroCineFest. I'm working with Atomic Books to set up a reading with me and Mike Faloon, author of Hanging Gardens of Split Rock for "A Night of Mikes".
There's also a good chance of a film screening/book event in Baltimore that weekend with some of the former MicroCineFest folks in attendance. I know that Skizz is busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest right now so I'm not promising anything just yet.
On the way down to Baltimore, I'm going to be going through Cleveland and Pittsburgh and hope to find some cool places in those major cities to do more shilling. I'm also looking for places within driving distance to Philadelphia and Baltimore -- maybe in New Jersey or even (gasp) New York?
And, as Detroit is mid-way between Toronto and Chicago, I'd really like to do book events in both of those cities. I have a few "dream places" in mind. Wish me luck with those.
To repeat myself, if you know of any hip places or blogs/podcasts where Impossibly Funky would be welcome, please let me know.
About thirty five minutes into Tweet's Ladies of Pasadena I felt as if I'd had a psychotic break. The story of a bizarre man-child, Tweet Twig (Timothy Carey)--the only male member of the "Don't Drop a Stitch Knitting Club"--the film apparently combines a score of episodes for a television show that never happened. With most shots running less than a second, characters speaking in tandem, and things occurring on screen that come close to being a plot without actually adhering to anything close to a coherent narrative, Tweet's confounded the audience.
You could say that Tweet's was akin to a car crash but where that analogy works for compelling disasters, Tweet's drove several folks out of the theater. I was tempted to leave as my head was pounding but couldn't imagine that the breakneck pace could continue unabated and that the film would never return to some of the items that passed by winkquick as it unfolded. What about the people covered in roses? How about the dog that came back to life? Would Tweet ever find a job? Why did his wife not appear for the first third of the film and then appear to be different woman for the final third? Would those South American ants play a part in anything?
I've had drug trips that are more lucid than Tweet's Ladies of Pasadena.
Overall, I'm glad I saw it but it may take me a while to recover from it.
After the screening Timothy Carey's son, Romeo, gave a brief Q&A where he said Tweet's was shot over a period of roughly seven years, as if it had been a show that the elder Carey worked on despite it never being picked up by a network. And, despite the wild programming that populated the TV landscape in the '70s, I could never see such a show playing. It's still not clear if the 70+ minutes of Tweet's shown was one show or several cut together. The print screened appeared to be some kind of work print that had been edited to within an inch of its life.
I was hoping for some more information about Tweet's in the documentary about Timothy Carey, Making Sinner. However, this seemed to focus on Carey's early career up to and including The World's Greatest Sinner (1962).
Directed by Romeo Carey, I fear that Carey's son may be too close to the project when it comes to presenting a complete portrait of his father. Instead of being behind the camera, the eloquent Romeo would be better in front of the lens, relating the untold tales of his father's passion and wild life. As it stands, the rough cut of Making Sinner was a rather disjointed assembly of a handful of interviews and abrupt clips punctuated with stock photos. I'm not sure if these pictures were meant to be funny but I couldn't help but laugh when something mentioned by an interviewee always came accompanied by a loosely-related image. Someone would say "Jesus" and we'd see "Jesus". Or, a rather happy Latino fellow wearing a sombrero appeared whenever Mexico was mentioned.
There's not enough about The World's Greatest Sinner in Making Sinner to truly qualify it as a documentary of the film. Yes, there's some interesting behind-the-scenes footage including takes of scenes that go on for far longer than in the final film (at one point cameraman Ray Dennis Steckler discusses a scene that was taken twice -- once at ten minutes and another at eight -- while the scene runs only thirty seconds in the final cut. Seeing these outtakes makes me wonder what World's Greatest Sinner would look like without the disjointed editing; or is that what gives the film so much of its charm?
Making Sinner demonstrates the need for the definitive documentary of Timothy Carey. This needs to happen soon, while people that worked with him are still alive. In Making Sinner the interviews with Carey's youngest brother and Ray Dennis Steckler are great, yes, but a Carey doc needs interviews with people like Peter Falk, Bob Rafelson, Robert Blake, and Ben Gazarra (to name a few). As it stands, Making Sinner is an ambitious idea that isn't quite ambitious enough in its scope (and not cohesive in its presentation).
Between Making Sinner and Tweet's Ladies of Pasadena the audience was treated to Cinema Justice, a single scene in which an unhinged Carey steamrolls fellow actor Michael C. Gwynne, and The World's Greatest Sinner -- always a treat.
Was the evening worth a 10 hour drive, $20 parking and a $109 speeding ticket?. Yes. I don't know if or when Tweet's will ever play again and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have my mind blown so thoroughly. Toodeloo!
