(this blog was begun Sunday night, October 20 2019)
Tonight I began to watch a movie called "31" but only made it to the 25 minute mark before pulling the plug. I don't know what I was thinking : it's a Rob Zombie movie, and even though I (sort-of) liked "House Of 1000 Corpses", it was still trash. Fun trash, maybe, but not worth a repeat view. I gave Zombie another chance with "The Devil's Rejects", and I shoulda rejected it too. The Devil was onto something there because that movie just plain sucked. So again, I really don't know what moved me to check out "31" from the Chatsworth Libe, unless it was the movie's Halloween setting. That's what the numerical title refers to, October "31". Maybe I thought Zombie could do a decent Halloween movie, or at least couldn't mess it up, but boy was I wrong. "31" is so bad that in retrospect I don't know how I lasted 25 minutes. Trashy voyeuristic violence porn is what I would call it, set in a freak show context with a garbage mouthed script. I shant dignify it with a review, except to say that the final straw for me was a neverending sequence taking place inside an old warehouse, where an effeminate but murderous midget dressed up as Hitler torments and kills a bunch of hillbillies from a traveling carnival.
That about sums up the "talent" of Rob Zombie in a single sentence. The joke was on me for even giving it a try. ////
I did have fun earlier in the evening up at Our Lady Of Lourdes. That's the church across the street from me, and as mentioned in yesterday's blog, tonight they had Ticket To Ride as the band to close out their annual Fall Festival. As I also noted, I've seen those guys at least a dozen times over the years, but tonight they were extra good. They had a new "George Harrison", a guy from the Los Angeles cast of "Beatlemania", and he was fantastic. As good as the Georges of years past have been, this guy was even better. He threw in all the "in between" phrasings and lead notes that the real George played in the course of every song, and he did it with an almost duplicate sense of the real George's style, which was quite a bit more complicated than he gets credit for. To me, George was one of the greatest guitarists in rock history. His playing was very musical. /////
I know I've been neglecting to follow up on my Rappaport story, but I haven't forgotten it and will be starting Part Two shortly. What is difficult for me is that, in writing about this event, once I am inside his house, I have to go back to that place in my mind when I actually was in his house. If I am going to write about it - and I am - I want to try and get to the heart of what it felt like. When you are in a state of extreme fear, it is different than anything you've ever experienced. All of your senses come alive and are super acute, but at the same time you shut down and go inside yourself. Your "everyday Self" goes into hiding for self protection, and your "terrified Self" takes over. But you have never experienced your "terrified Self" before, and so it has the weird effect of seeming like someone else has taken control of your reactions, this terrified version of yourself that you've never known before. They say there is a self-defense "animal" in all of us, and I can testify that it is true. In my case, I didn't get the chance to react like a cornered animal to the violence Mr. Rappaport directed at me. He had me handcuffed and tethered by my leg to a table or some other anchor to keep me stationary. But I reacted in other ways, and it is that feeling of abject terror, how a person reacts by instinct alone when their life is on the line, that I want to try and capture.
I know that if I start writing about it and I am in the wrong mood, say a blase everyday workday kind of mood, I probably won't be able to dig up the feeling of first hand experience I am striving for. I don't want to write about what it felt like to be in that psychopath's house unless I can nail the feeling. But I will try to do so in the next few days, and once I get into it, I will write the remainder of the story in fairly rapid fashion. ////
Well, it's now Tuesday Afternoon, and you've got your Moody Blues disc at the ready. Last night, I went to Pearl's for dinner and then Grimsley came over after that, so I didn't watch a movie, but I made up for it just now by watching an afternoon flick : "Son Of Kong" (1933), in which Robert Armstrong reprises his role as the entrepreneur Carl Denham, the man who brought King Kong to New York with disastrous results. As the movie begins, Denham is a prisoner in his own apartment, trapped there by the newsmen who want a story about the Kong catastrophe, and also by the creditors and process servers who intend to sue him for all the damage he has wrought. He is looking at a long stretch in prison as well. He needs a way out, and he finds it in his old friend Charlie (Victor Wong), the cook who was part of the first adventure. Charlie sneaks into his building to inform Denham of a cargo ship that will soon be sailing to points east. He gets Denham aboard and they are off.
The ship just so happens to be skippered by Captain Englehorn (Frank Reicher), the same man who helmed the original Kong expedition. Denham and the Captain talk of old times. They both regret everything that happened with Kong. "I should have just left him alone", says Denham.
At an Indonesian port, the two men happen upon a small entertainment show, set up in a canvas tent. A ringmaster is leading a trio of trained monkeys through their paces. When they finish, he introduces the next act, "La Belle Helene", who sings and plays guitar. She is his daughter (Helen Mack), a cutie who will stow away on board the cargo ship after her father is killed in a drunken argument with a Dutch captain of questionable honor.
Now the protagonists are set in place, all aboard for a return trip to Skull Island. They are going back because the Dutch captain claims to have a map of the reputed treasure that escaped Denham the first time. Denham and Captain Englehorn hope to locate the treasure : Englehorn so he can pay his men (who are on the verge of mutiny), and Denham so he can settle with his creditors back in New York.
But there may be deception in the works. Keep in mind that the Dutch captain is a murderer. Denham and Englehorn don't know this, but sweet Helen Mack is hiding below deck. When she is revealed, she will confront the Dutchman with his evil deed, and all heck will break out on the ship.
Our core characters will still make it to Skull Island, or we wouldn't have a movie, but I'll leave it to you to discover how they get there, and what happens when they do.
"Son Of Kong" - which I found yesterday at Porter Ranch Library - is a highly enjoyable and tightly composed adventure story that still qualifies as a Halloween movie because of the monsters involved. It's played mostly in a lighthearted way, and the movie's center is the budding yet innocent romance between Carl Denham and the much younger Helen Mack. Still, you've got giant serpents and bears fighting it out with each other, and with Baby Kong. You've got a four-story Triceratops trying to make a snack out of our heroes, all in the same high-quality stop motion effects that were used in the first film. "Son Of Kong" doesn't have the story development of "King Kong", nor it's budget, but it was once again directed by Ernest B. Schoedsack, who packs a lot of plot and action into the 69 minute running time. "Baby" Kong is a sympathetic figure like his Pa, but is only a third his size.
In true Kong fashion, he tries to be helpful to Denham and the others, who will need the (comparatively) little guy on their side if they are ever to escape the island.
Robert Armstrong and Frank Reicher are steady on their feet once again as "Carl Denham" and "Captain Englehown", and Helen Mack shines in the Fay Wray role, even though she is not in Kong's grip this time around. I loved "Son Of Kong" and give it Two Very Big Thumbs Up. If you are a fan of the original classic, and who isn't?, make sure to see this follow-up so you'll know the rest of the story.
Well, that's all for now. I'm gonna be heading downtown in a few hours to see Rick Wakeman tonight at The Theater at The Ace Hotel. I haven't seen him do a solo show since 1974! OMG, that's 45 years ago. So it should be an Absolute Blast. Right now I'm gonna see if I can sneak in a quick hike before I go. I'll see you back here tonight at the Usual Time. Have a great afternoon!
Tons of love. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo :):)
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