June 29, 2025 (Movies and other stuff)

Briefly, before we get started, a note on the passing of Dave Parker, aka "The Cobra", who spent time with the Cincinnati Reds, my favorite baseball team. I don't know if we have any fans here at the blog (cause I don't know who reads the doggone thing; I've never had a single comment or acknowledgement in 25 years), but baseball has been my favorite sport (tied with football) since I was five or six years old, when Dad took me to see Sandy Koufax pitch for the Dodgers. Dad lived in Cincy after the war. It's where he met my Mom. He took me to Dodgers/Reds games and said "watch that guy", meaning Pete Rose, who became my favorite player. The Big Red Machine won the World Series in 1975-76 and is considered one of the greatest baseball teams of all-time. Dave Parker played for the Reds from 1984 - 87, after their heyday, but before that, he was with the Pittsburgh Pirates. In 1977, me and my pals used to take the bus to Dodger Stadium. Bleacher seats were three bucks! One time, the Dodgers were playing the Pirates, and big Dave Parker was in right field. Everybody loved The Cobra, even fans of other teams. He could hit the ball out of any park, and had a rocket arm, but most of all, he was a cool guy...easygoing, no superstar ego. On the day we saw him play, we kept trying to get his attention. "Hey Dave! Big Dave! Hey Cobra!" Finally, he was close enough to the outfield wall to hear us. He smiled and gave us a wave.

That made our day. Dave Parker won the MVP award that year. On July 27, he will be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He didn't live to attend the ceremony, but I bet he will be there anyway. All athletes should be as cool as Big Dave Parker.

Okay, now for some movies:

Um...can we start with a list? We usually do Top Tens, and they're always "Best Of", but can we do it in reverse? Something got me thinking about the All-Time Worst Movie Directors. I have a "thing" I've developed in recent years: turning off a movie as soon as it gets bad. I never used to do this. I thought it was impolite: "You chose this movie, Ad, you must stick with it." Of course, any film can have a needless scene, or can drag for a few minutes. When that happens, you've gotta give it a chance to recover. But you sometimes get a vibe, either from the start or a few minutes in, that "this movie sucks" and it's not going to improve. Then you think (or should think), "Why should I spend 90 to 120 minutes watching this when I already know how bad it is?" Life's too short, right? But I used to sit all the way though every movie, no matter how crummy, even when I knew it from the get-go, just because I "felt bad" about rejecting the filmmaker's effort.

But then, about ten years ago, along came a film called "Tideland" by Terry Gilliam. And it was so bad, I just couldn't sit through it. I made it through the first fifteen minutes, but then said "why am I watching this"? And all of a sudden...I wasn't. That's because my thumb had pressed the "stop" button without me realizing it. "Thanks, thumb." It gave me the courage to stop worrying about politeness (and hurting the filmmaker's feelings) and start using the stop button more often. I did it again with "Cosmopolis" by David Cronenberg. That time, I was only three minutes into the film. Geez, you wanna talk a bad movie? Give that one a shot, see if you can last longer than I did.

Anyway, without further ado, let's list our Top Worst Directors (#1 being the champ). I don't know if we can find ten of them, but lets try.

1) Terry Gilliam. "Baron von Munchausen", "Brazil", and the horrid "Tideland" which, on the dvd, sports a disclaimer by Gilliam before the movie starts, where he basically acknowledges that it sucks but asks you to give it a chance anyway. I tried. I couldn't. Do you need any more evidence? I rest my case that he's the worst movie director of all time.

2) 'Twas a close race for second, but I had to go with David Cronenberg. "Crash", "Eastern Promises", "A History of Violence" and (drum roll please)..."Cosmopolis"! A double-dare ya to sit through even the opening scene! Good grief does this guy suck.

3) But I'm tellin' ya, it was really hard not to give the #2 spot to Lars von Trier. Have you ever tried to watch one of his movies? You won't be able to do it. In many ways, he's the worst of the worst, though he doesn't have a "turn it off immediately" flick like the first two lame-o's. Pound-for-pound, however, he's got more ridiculous, stupid and really bad movie moments and just awful movies than maybe even Cronenberg and Gilliam put together. Plus, he's an arrogant a-hole. Go ahead and try to sit through one of his "critically acclaimed masterpieces". I guarantee you won't make it.

4) The guy who directed "The Lobster": Yorgos Lanthimos. He wins for Most Obtuse Director. Watch any of his flicks without going "huh?" and I don't mean in a weird, David Lynch way. I just mean "Huh? Why is this movie so bad? Why am I watching this"? Then hit the stop button and find something else. He won't ever be #1 because his films aren't obnoxious enough, but rock-bottom boring they are.

On a side note, we aren't talking about guys like Uwe Boll or Abel Ferarra, where it's common knowledge that their movies are lousy. We're mostly talking "critics darlings", whose movies are lauded by people with agendas, and hipsters who watch because the movie critics told them to.

5) I wanna put Wes Anderson on this list but I just can't do it because he's a genuinely nice guy who doesn't seem to be deliberately pretentious. It's just that....well, try sitting through "Asteroid City". But I still can't put him on the list. Oh, okay, maybe around #9 or 10. But I'm all out of names to make 10 (unless you can think of some). I just wanted to get these off my chest, and the subject in general, because whenever I think of "Tideland", I cringe. 

I had a great first day of Summer, last Saturday at the Chatsworth Nature Preserve. In addition to the guided hike (with all kinds of info about native plants, trees and critters), I had a blast learning to sing Native American songs with a group watching Martin Espino, a Native American musician and lecturer. Google him, he's awesome. He brings percussion instruments along; I got to play the Big Drum, the Turtle Shell, and the Rattle (it's like maracas). If you ever wanna see what the Valley looked like before development, come out to the Preserve when it's open next year. They only do this one day per year, so don't miss it. It's amazing!

How about a few Tubi movie reviews? I'll keep 'em brief:

"Ted K"(2021), the story of The Unabomber is good as a one-man show. Sharlto Copley plays Ted Kaczynski. Who knew he was so resourceful, or that he got around, travelling to other states by bus, and was a master of disguise? Ted was a bad and violent guy, but I'm not sure he was crazy, and many people agree with his assessment that modern technology has had a deleterious effect on the world. Autistic? Maybe. Sociopathic, for certain. But crazy? No. And, he rejected the insanity defense. Worth a watch for the lead performance.

"Good Kill"(2014) is about the moral question of using drones to kill targets 7000 miles away. Ethan Hawke gives an emotionally repressed performance as the guy working the joystick, but the screenwriter does not confront the fact that collateral damage by warplanes is likely greater than that caused by drone strikes. War is war, folks get killed.

"No Man of God"(2021) is a good one. They have some excellent unknown actors playing serial killers nowdays. Luke Kirby, who plays Ted Bundy, has his mannerisms him down pat, which can be compared to the real Ted's last interview. The problem is that no one can "out-Bundy" Bundy, and if you've never seen that last-ditch "confession" with James Dobson, you should check it out. It shows he was a very good actor himself, and a complete phony-baloney psychopath. 

Two more good "backwoodser" movies: "A Dark Place"(2018) and "A Single Shot"(2013) are both noteworthy for their lead performances, yet both feature some ludicrous plot devices and scenes that would never happen in real life. Still, both are riveting because of the atmosphere and aforementioned lead roles, and are thus the most highly recommended of all these films.  

R.I.P to the great Mick Ralphs, one of my very first guitar heros, who played with Mott the Hoople, which in turn was one of the first bands I got into when I discovered College Records. Check out his short-but-perfect solo on "Ballad of Mott the Hoople", or his work on the first Bad Company album. In addition, Mott and Ralphs looked cool and were the epitome, along with Bowie, of Glam Rock. They made you want to get a pair of platform shoes!

Finally, having remembered "Heavy Metal" as the first movie Lilly and I saw, I was trying to think of the second one. I had to consult my trusty internet movie-list databases (which have been helpful in many respects), and in browsing the Complete List of Movies Released in 1981, I found it! It was "An American Werewolf in London", which opened on August 21 of that year. We saw it at the MGM Studios main theater, which often previewed films, and we probably saw it a week (or a few days) before the general release, and it was a fun and slightly scary movie (though not full-on horror, which Lillian would not have liked).

But the cool thing was, because it was at MGM, I got to show her through the lab! Lilly got to see where I worked, and I remember leading her through the positive developing room, which was dark. I don't remember if I had my amber safety flashlight. I recall taking her through the corridor between the noisy developing machines, through the double doors and into the lighted "dry end", where the film went into the drying boxes. She was 16, I was 21, and I was proud to show her my workplace and also the MGM theater. I only worked at the studio for a few more months, and the rest is now history, but as the saying goes:

"That's showbiz!" 

Thanks for reading and Tons of Love, as always.   

June 19, 2025 (Movies & Happy Summer)

Howdy folks. I'm afraid I have nothing to report but movies. Everything else is my book, the one I'm working on, and I can't tell ya much about that. So, whattaya think? Can we do a bunch of flicks? Okay, good, but before we do, here's some exciting movie-related news:

The legendary Reseda Theater will soon be back (well, sort of). A development project is finally in the works. Read about it here: 

https://www.azuredevelopmentco.com/reseda-theater.html?fbclid=IwY2xjawK-liJleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETFQTUdpd216cEk2QWVmWlVFAR4Gbn_Syup4RhpHZ9OiWinpuYT7AUDToBQWI0wKMkWuVG2lgLo9VuKevDfG8w_aem_DpfbepB4yJv5WbN6pnviPQ

Now, before we count our chickens, it must be noted that several other RT developments have been announced over the years and fallen through. This one, however, seems to have been approved and is already in the works, so, even though it won't be a full restoration of the original, single screen theater (without all the added shops and bistros), it's better than letting it sit idle as it has for the past 37 years. The best part is that they're gonna preserve the facade and marquee. Long live the Reseda Theater, my very first Movie Home.

Okay, now on to our reviews. Our first film is "Emperor"(2012), about the aftermath of the Pacific war and Hirohito's fate after his surrender to General MacArthur. Matthew Fox stars as the real life "Gen. Bonner Fellers", an assistant to MacArthur, who must find evidence that Hirohito ordered the attack on Pearl Harbor. Fox gives an outstanding performance; the ads showed Tommy Lee Jones' picture as MacArthur, but its Fox's film from start to finish. I don't know why he isn't a major star. Most of the cast is made up of Japanese actors who do a good job of capturing the warrior mentality and male-dominated culture of Japan at that time. Hirohito was seen, literally, as God to the Japanese people, and this is only 15 years before I was born. Talk about political mind control. Now then, we all know who Hitler was, but have you ever heard of Tojo? He was the true evil dictator of Japan who, along with his militarist generals, really ran the show above Emperor Hirohito, a passive man. Read the two thousand year history of feudal Japan, which was closed off from the world until Admiral Perry "opened it up" in 1853 (only 100 years before rock n' roll came into being). The movie shows how the war put a final end to all of that sequestration, and how the greatest horror the modern world has ever seen (WW2) brought about the greatest positive change in culture for Japan, and allied prosperity for our two nations. A love story holds the movie together and brings tears. "Emperor" is a great film that will stand the test of time. Tommy Lee Jones is excellent as aways in his supporting role as the Supreme Commander.

We also have "Kandahar,"(2023), a top-notch action thriller with Gerard Butler of "300" fame. He's in some really bad movies and a few good ones. This is of the latter, a captivating action flick shot in Saudi Arabia, which isn't all sand dunes and looks here like a godforsaken netherworld. You know how the Alabama Hills or the Utah Desert are ancient but majestic? This location looks like God destroyed it. It's supposed to be Afghanistan, and I thought it was until I read the movie's IMDB page, but man you wouldn't wanna live there. No wonder it's a source of continual strife. Butler is like Liam Neeson. He's great at portraying the existential stoic hero, caring only to do his job and survive. Neeson and Butler are too old to do the machismo schtick, which makes them appear even stronger - age and experience outweighs youthful muscle and braggadocio. The old guys have been there done that, and don't give a Flying You-Know-What. Butler plays a CIA asset working covertly in Iran to blow up their nuclear production plants. Strange how art mirrors and predicts real life, eh? He succeeds in blasting their nuke factory to smithereens, but then is identified. Now he must escape not only the Taliban and Isis, but also a relentless Pakistani ISI agent who wants to capture and sell him to the highest bidder. He has an interpreter along for the ride who just wants to get home to his family but has gotten more than he bargained for. The movie's message is that ordinary citizens just want peace and stability no matter what country they come from, but are unfortunately dominated by a-holes using the guise of a religion they don't even believe in. As these kinds of flicks go, it's very well done and doesn't lag for a second, even at two hours running time.

 Next up, a solid crime flick. "The Texas Killing Fields"(2011) boasts a strong cast: Sam Worthington, Jessica Chastain, and Jeffery Dean Morgan as detectives searching for a bayou serial killer. Morgan is downright sympathetic as an altruistic, devoutly religious, transplanted New Yorker. He shows himself to be a talented actor not limited to psycho roles, and makes you wonder why he chose to play the most reprehensible character in the history of movies and televison ("Negan" from "The Walking Dead") which unfortunately typecast him. This flick is well paced, with seemingly competent direction by Michael Mann's daughter Ami. I say "seemingly" because you're watching, locked in, and for the first 110 minutes, everything is top notch. There's a great "backwoodser" vibe featuring some creepy Hoot & Holler people including an unrecognisable Sheryl Lee of "Laura Palmer" fame. The plot has you riveted, and even though there's no backstory or character development, it's still a good watch...until the end, which leaves one of the biggest Red Herrings in recent memory. It doesn't ruin the movie, but you wonder "what gives"? Why was this particular person even in the film and why did they spend so much time on him? You can chalk it up to directorial inexperience, or very poor screenwriting/script editing, heck I don't know. But they additionally wasted a good performance by this Red Herring character, who is one of the best recent movie villains. So go figure. Still, it's well worth watching for the atmosphere, and young Chloe Grace Moretz as a vulnerable child.

But the best film of all was "The Professor and the Madman"(2019) starring Mel Gibson and Sean Penn in those roles respectively. If you love words and books as much as I do, this is your movie, about the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary. We like to talk about time here at the blog, and how the past, in many historical instances, is not as far back as it seems. Dig it: the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary was begun in 1879, only six years before my grandmother was born, and only 81 years before myself. Using 2025 as a reference, it would've been created in 1944, not a "distant past" at all. But imagine a time without dictionaries! Nowadays, of course, the English language is in a period of steep decline. It's interesting to consider that God gave many living creatures a tongue, but only humans had the impulse to form words. What might have been the very first well-articulated (and not grunted) spoken word? Who spoke it and when? It is also interesting to note that English has become "the international language" and is used as "the language of aviation". Did this happen because England, and then America, were the world's most powerful countries (and forced it down everyone's throats), or because English conveys more nuance than any other language and is relatively easy to learn? Language is a fascinating subject that extends into pasta. Linguine means little tongues. This movie is about the attempt to preserve the English language by literally putting "every word that ever was", per James Murray, into the most comprehensive dictionary ever created. The Oxford now has twenty volumes! The other half of the movie is how this massive effort first attracted then negatively affected a "madman" (Penn, playing a Civil War surgeon) who resides in a London asylum. It's great stuff, featuring (imo) Sean Penn's best performance as the hopelessly insane Dr. William Chester Minor, and a restrained Mel Gibson as Professor James Murray. We need more literate movies like this one. Thanks, Mel and Sean.

Quick Top Ten List! Greatest debut albums of all time: 1) "In the Court of the Crimson King" by King Crimson 2) "The Six Wives of Henry the 8th" by Rick Wakeman 3) the first Van Halen album 4) "Out of the Silent Planet" by King's X 5) the first Rush album 6) the first Black Sabbath 7) Roxy Music's first 8) "Tones" by Eric Johnson 9) "Montrose" by Montrose 10) "Caravan" by Caravan. That's just off the top of my head (and "Crimson King" is the consensus #1 by anyone-and-everyone), but think of all the great bands who didn't have a killer debut: Yes, Genesis, Deep Purple, Alice Cooper, Judas Priest...heck, even The Beatles didn't knock it out of the park until their second album. So, it's less common when a band hits a grand slam the first time out. What are some of your top first albums from your favorite bands?

Another question, in the same vein as "who spoke the first word"? Why did man feel the need (or receive the initiative) to depict life? Why did he make cave paintings? Why did he feel the need to eventually invent photography, and then motion pictures? Why did he create "plays" when he had real life? Why are there stories? I ask because it's interesting...

I've had fun doing Movie Memories, and I was trying to think of the first movie Lilly and I ever saw. Could it have been "Heavy Metal", the animated Ralph Bakshi flick? I think so. It was released in August 1981, just weeks after we became a couple. Lilly wanted to see it because Cheap Trick was on the soundtrack. I think both of us liked the title and it just looked like an awesome movie. We saw it at the Cinerama Dome. To be honest, I don't remember the storyline, but I know Lillian was glad to hear the CT song play. They have no bigger fan in the Universe. The Dio version of Black Sabbath was also on the soundtrack with "Mob Rules". The 80s was of course when heavy metal exploded. Lilly and I were still getting to know each other at this point, and doing a very good job of it. The Summer of 1981 was The Greatest Summer of All Time (in my book, at least). It's funny: back then I would've said I didn't like the music of bands like REO Speedwagon or an artist like Christopher Cross, both of whom had huge radio hits with songs like "Keep On Loving You" and "Arthur's Theme". But - while Van Halen and Rush will always be "more my style" - it is songs like those that necessitate a Kleenex when I think of that time in our lives. It's a Happy Kleenex, mind you. Nostalgia equals timelessness, an endless Steady State...

And that's all I know for today. Thanks for reading, Happy Summer, and Tons of Love as always. 

June 9, 2025

Howdy, folks. Sorry to do this, but I've gotta start with a brief tirade. Newsom and Mayor Bass have got to go. First, there was their non-response during and after the firestorms in January of this year. And now, they are basically supporting these rioters, who are waving Mexican flags while they burn vehicles and throw rocks at passing cars. I'm grateful to President Trump and Secretary Hegseth for Federalizing the National Guard and sending in the Marines. Screw these criminals who riot every time they think thay have an "excuse" (even after basketball championships). And don't get me started on blocking the freeway. Folks, you can take whatever stance you want about the ICE deportations here in Los Angeles, and I'll honor your opinion even if I disagree with it (and you can guess where I stand on illegal immigration). However...and this is one of those Howevers we've seen in the past that are huge and must be drawn out..Howw-wwevv-err: If anyone thinks that blocking freeway traffic is acceptable, you should deport yourself from the Earth. Why do I say that? Because I was a caregiver. What if an ambulance was on the freeway with a patient in critical condition? What if you or I were on the freeway, going to visit a dying relative in the hospital? What if your wife was in labor and your child was about to be born, or your loved one had been shot and was dying...and these a-holes, these entitled POS, blocked the freeway and you couldn't get through? And your loved one died before you could get there, or the person in the ambulance died...

You know what? "Hey Newsom", eff you. You are the worst governor this state has ever had. Ditto Bass as Mayor, and that ain't easy to do when you consider Villaraigosa. Thank you, Trump, for standing up for law abiding citizens of all stripes and ethnicities. Shut these bad guys down, and keep them off the freeway and roads by any means neccessary.

More cops, more military, support pop up robots. America will NOT acquiesce to the criminals.

Okay, deep breath. Thanks for restoring order.

On a lighter note, have you guys heard of Helgi and Erlend? They're two Norwegians who do Scandanavian stereotypes on Facebook. They do a few other countries, too. I think they're hilarious and you've gotta check 'em out. Just put them in the FB search window, and watch their reels and shorts for best results.

We've got a coyote roaming my neighborhood. I've run into him two nights in a row and it's almost uncanny. The first time was on Saturday evening, during my Ralph's walk up to Chatsworth & Lindley. When I got to the old Denvonshire Downs lot, I was talking to my sister Vickie on the phone and suddenly there he was, Mr. Coyote, standing 15 feet away from me. I wasn't skeered, because I'm something of a coyote veteran at Aliso Canyon. If they're alone, they aren't gonna bother you (only when you see more than one should you be careful). Anyhow, while on the phone I watched him run around the Dev Downs parking lot. I said to Vickie that "I hope he heads back up into the mountains where he belongs". It worried me that he was close to traffic, which is relentless around here. Well, then last night, I took a detour on my CSUN walk. I never return via Superior Street. That's above my block and out of my way, but tonight there were a whole bunch of people on the sidewalk on Halsted. I didn't wanna weave through them so I kept going, one block out of my way up to Superior. And no sooner did I turn the corner onto Superior from Etiwanda...than there was Mr. Coyote, running through someone's front yard! I kid you not. It's like he's doggin' me (pun intended). He stopped for a second to check me out. I stopped too. I said (quietly) "you go on home, Mr. Coyote. You could get hurt down here". And he could hurt or kill someone's dog or cat, too. Hopefully, he'll find his way back, or animal control will pick him up. I hope it's the first option because Animal Control might put him down. Anyway, that's something, eh? Having a coyote just "pop up" two nights in a row, at random places...  

I went to the Academy Museum last week, with Vickie for her birthday. Have you been there? It's pretty awesome, and highly recommended for anyone with even a passing interest in the history of movies. For film buffs, it's a must-see. They have tons of Hollywood memorabilia & historic and technical presentations. It's located in the old May Company building next to LACMA and La Brea Tar Pits, and across the schtreet from the Petersen Auto Museum. You could even go and make a big-time "Museum Day" out of it. Hot tip: don't pay the 21 dollar parking fee (ouch!) in the LACMA garage; instead, turn right on Fairfax (off Wilshire), go up two blocks to Maryland, turn left and find free schtreet parking in a Lynchian residential neighborhood, very nice indeed. Tickets for the Academy are 25 bucks, or 19 for seniors like me. 

A couple of Tubi movies: "Man on the Prowl"(1957), an ultra-low budget psycho/thriller notable for its excellent performances. The great James Best plays a nut who romances then kills women when they reject him. He's just been let out of Camarillo and is living with his Mom. He knows cars, and has a job at a high-end dealership called Yeakel Cadillac (now Casa de Cadillac on Ventura near Moby Disc). He murdalizes one date at the beginning of the movie, then almost runs down pretty suburban Mom Mala Powers the next day while returning an Eldorado to a rich blonde bimbo. The movie has an inventive script that may have influenced "realist" filmmakers like Scorsese and Tarantino, and Best's portrayal of an extremely twisted character gives you the creeps. He was never a star, but you know him from a million things: for most it would be "Dukes of Hazzard", for me it was the cold-blooded leader of a redneck cowboy gang who put William Devane's hand in the garbage disposal in the all-time revenge film "Rolling Thunder"(1977). It was Best who uttered the movie's immortal line. After Devane's hand gets turned into ground round, his wife says: "My God, Charlie! Why didn't you just tell him where the money was?!" Best interjects, and says: "I'll tell you why lady...because your husband is one macho mo****rf**ker." I don't have to tell you that, at 17, that line hit my friends and I like a ton of bricks and we used it for a long time as a meme. James Best was the kind of actor who you never forgot in a role. He had a distinctive voice, for one thing, a high Texas twang. He did have one starring performance in "The Killer Shrews" (a 1959 b-movie classic with dogs dressed up as giant shrews), and that too was indelible. I say the more James Best, the better. According to IMDB, only one print exists of "Man on the Prowl". It was found in 2015; Alpha Video bought the rights. A high recommendation for this rarity.

We also have "Black Robe"(1991), which you may have seen or at least heard of. I saw it at the Peppertree when it was first released. Last night was my second view. Simply put, it's one of the greatest historical movies ever made, in my opinion. Briefly (if you are unfamiliar with the story): In 1634, from Quebec in what is called New France (before Canada was a country, and no one knows - even today - if it's a real country), a Jesuit priest (Lothaire Bluteau) sets out into the untamed wilderness, heading for Huron territory. He is sent by "Champlain," the French governor of the colony, to Christianize the Indians, and thus make them more peaceful and compatable. A handsome young colonist (Aden Young) accompanies the Father, wanting, like him, to "serve God". But he falls in love (and in lust) with a beautiful Algonquin girl (Sandrine Holt), causing an already tenuous relationship with their Chief to get worse. The Algonquins don't trust "the Black Robe" as they call Father Paul LaForge (Bluteau). The superstitious braves think he's a demon because he can "write words" and play the flute. To them, he's bad magic. But the Algonquins are downright moderate compared to the Iroquois, who are bloodthirsty and practice a form of voodoo. The situation worsens at every stop along the way. Winter comes, and with it sickness. The small group is continuously reduced. When they finally reach the Huron mission, only Father LaForge is left. That's all I'll reveal, and again, you've probably seen it. If you haven't, watch it asap. The stunning color photography alone is worth the effort, but it's also a gripping story of different forms of faith. Looked at from a Christian perspective, you could almost say that the Indians (some tribes) were stuck in the type of "eye for an eye" violence found in The Old Testament, whereas Father LaForge "turns the other cheek" at every injury they inflict upon him. 10/10 for "Black Robe", which was directed by Bruce Beresford (of "Driving Miss Daisy" fame). It came out around the same time as "Dances With Wolves" and "Last of the Mohicans" and I think it's the best of the bunch.

I had so much fun writing and thinking about "One From the Heart" that it reminded me of another great Movie Memory. Do you remember "Legend" starring Tom Cruise? Lillian and I saw it at the GNC Theater in April 1986, close to my birthday if I remember correctly. The GNC was in the Northridge Mall, and something about the way it was "tucked into a corner" (near Bullocks) and its '80s decor made it a favorite theater of mine for many years. So it was already a great movie date. But the film itself, like "One From the Heart", also had a "personal" connection for me and Lilly. Cruise plays "Jack", a forest dweller who fights The Lord of Darkness (basically, the devil) to save the last unicorn in existence. And in doing so, he saves Mia Sara, who plays "Princess Lily"! I loved "Legend" and I think Lillian did too, and on the way out, she said that someone told her she "looked like Mia Sara". I may have said, "No, she looks like you."

It's another of my favorite movies. 

That's all for now. Thanks for reading and Tons of Love as always.

May 29, 2025 ("One From the Heart", Avengers, etc.)

Hey guys, I trust all is well. I've been working on my book ("2009"), and let me tell you a little about the writing process. I once read Kurt Vonnegut's description of writing a first draft, and I get a kick out of it now because it's so accurate. We imagine someone like him, or Stephen King or any great writer, just tossing off one literate, perfect sentence after another, then going back in a second draft to red-pencil a word or sentence or paragraph here and there. Just a slight polishing of an otherwise excellent first effort. Vonnegut described it differently. He said (paraphrase): "For me, every time I start a book it's like I'm a caveman writing in crayon". Boy, did he nail it; the Incoherancy Factor. There's also the Enormity of the Task. Starting a book is like hugging a blimp, or better yet, wrestling a grizzly bear. First, you've gotta get your arms around the doggone thing, get a grip on what you're trying to pin down, and don't let its size intimidate you. Then there's the matter of articulation and grammatical correctness. Everyone knows we don't (or shouldn't) write like we talk; I always use the Two Dudes Conversation as an example. Imagine Two Dudes, conversing with each other: (Dude #1): "Dude...I was at this house...and this chick was there..." (Dude #2): "...aw man, Dude!" (Dude #1)..."No Dude...and dude?...I mean...duuude...Dude, listen"...(Dude #2): "Say no more, dude...". Okay, we know that The Two Dudes know exactly what is being discussed, and in this case we do, too. But you could even take it further, because we've all overheard Two Dudes conversing with only a single word: (Dude #1): "Duuude"....(Dude #2) "Dude?" (Dude #1): "Duuude...". (Dude #2, getting the gist): "Dude!"

Because they understand each other, the Two Dudes don't need articulation. Whether they will continue to lose brain cells is another question, but you get my point. However, you can't write a book that way. You can't "write the way you talk" (even if you speak better than a Dude) because it will confuse readers, who are used to seeing grammatically correct sentences on a page. But when you are starting a book, you tend to "charge out of the gate" because you have so much to say, and your fingers type the "oral version" of what you are thinking, rather than the considered, articulate, and grammatically correct sentences. Thus, we have Vonnegut's assessment of himself as a "caveman with a crayon" when beginning a first draft. That a writer of his stature felt that way is a comfort to the rest of us. 

The first draft of my "2009" book will be a whopping 1200 pages. Luckily for me, half of that consists of my 2009 journal/diary (choose your word) and a series of notes I wrote in 2023/24, the context of which I can't reveal. But the notes are as extensive as my journal, and both will be presented intact (unchanged except for grammatical mistakes), so half the book is already written. The other 600 pages will be my "forensic examination" of the journal and the notes (which describe The 2009 Event), and so far, I too feel like a caveman writing in crayon, so huge is the task, but crayon or no crayon, I'm a very good polisher, and when I am done (likely after three drafts) it will result in an expose no less important than What Happened in Northridge. I'm still hoping for an April 2026 publication date, but it's extended to the end of that year.

On a side note, related to the Two Dudes Conversation, my Mom and I overheard a similar "foreign language" convo at the Lindley/Parthenia carwash, sometime in the early 2000s. It went like this: Speaker #1 "That was some f-cked up s-t, dog". Speaker #2 "Damn, dog. That is some f-cked up s-t!" As we drove away, I remarked to Mom that it was the first time I'd ever heard canines speaking English. Indeed, I'd never heard "dog" used as a pronoun before this. Beyond that, I am amazed (amused?) at the simplicity with which some people (and dogs) speak, and yet they understand every nuance of what is being stated.

File this next thing under "Made me so mad": Last night on my walk, as I approached the intersection of Lindley and Nordhoff, I saw that the protective fencing had been removed from around "Tacos 1986", the food stand that's replacing Cupid's Hot Dogs. I've been rooting for the new owner because he honored our local history, not only by retaining the original Cupid's hut but also its iconic heart-shaped sign. Perhaps he loved Cupids, too, and has honor for what came before him, a rare trait nowdays. With the green-screened construction fencing down, I could see what his stand will look like, and he's done a very nice job indeed. It basically looks like Cupid's with some black iron railings added, and it's ready to open any day now. But as I walked by, going south on Lindley, I happened to glance back over my shoulder, and was infuriated to see that some lowlife tagger had defaced the side of Tacos 1986 with some illegible scumbag gangbanger scrawl, sprayed before the stand has even opened. I have to say, you couldn't "out right-wing" me if you combined Lyman Lemnitzer, Joe McCarthy and Barry Goldwater. I hate bad guys so much, I make Chief Darryl Gates look like Timothy Leary. I think we need Pop-Up Robots all over the place - everywhere. Get Elon to figure out how to make them cost-effective. Then, when a tagger shows up at 4am to deface someone's brand new business, the "pop-up" (embedded in the parking lot, sidewalk, wherever) pops up out of the ground and vaporizes the s.o.b. Same with smash 'n grabs, street takeovers, etc. I've had it with lowlife criminals. They don't "deserve" a fair trial. Support Pop-Up Robots. Well anyhow...

How about a movie?

The other night I watched Francis Ford Coppola's "One From the Heart" for the second time, the first being with Lillian on Valentine's Day 1982. I think we saw it in the NoHo area, or possibly Universal City, if that cineplex was open back then. Boy, does this movie ever ring the nostalgia bell. Over the years, I've always remembered it for the incredible Las Vegas sets, which broke the bank for Coppola and Zoetrope, but I also remembered a significance for Lilly and me. The movie was sad - I remembered that, but I didn't recall how sad, or why. I had an imprint of Frederick Forrest singing "You Are My Sunshine", and in memory it broke my heart because I love Lilly so much and always have and always will. In the movie, Forrest and Teri Garr are always fighting, except at the end when they are redeemed. In that sense, it has a happy ending (like all romantic movies should) but it's mostly a downer, because who wants to watch a couple fight for all but the last two minutes of a movie? But I think the real marker, for me anyway, had to do with when we saw it: February 1982. My life was in upheaval, though at 21 (going on 22) I didn't notice this as much as I would in retrospect. I had literally just quit MGM a few weeks earlier. Consequently, I had no income and had just lost my awesome BMW 320i to repossession. On the good side, my band had just played our first two gigs, at Prairie Street School and Kennedy High, but counteracting that, on the bad side, my bandmates had just broken into the studio of a group named Zilch (who were located next to our rehearsal studio in the Golden Glenn building), and had stolen every piece of musical equipment Zilch owned. Two police detectives came to my door on the morning of February 1 (thirteen days before "One From the Heart"), to question me about the ripoff, because my name was on the studio lease. And if all that weren't enough, the day this happened, February 1, 1982, was the day we had to move out of our studio! So no wonder "One From the Heart" has stuck with me all this time. Lilly and I were so young then. She had just turned 17 three months earlier. I was two months away from 22. And in the movie, Frederick Forrest and Teri Garr are live-in boyfriend and girlfriend, and their anniversary is July 4. That's like a touchstone for me...

Anyhow, watch "One From the Heart" and see what you think. It wasn't a box office success. I think Coppola got carried away with his sets and production design and let the script get away from him. Fifteen minutes could be cut from the middle, and some of the symbolism is muddled. But if the ending doesn't bring out the Kleenex, you need to check your heart. I've never forgotten this movie, it's had deep meaning in my memory for all of this time, and now I know why. The promise of love, in the early 1980s, rings eternal. "You are my sunshine".

Confession: I'm a huge "Avengers" fan. Can you believe it? Me, watching Marvel movies? Now, concerning my fandom, so far it's Avengers only, I'm not talking about the whole MCU. But I got hooked after recently watching "Avengers: Endgame", which was recommended to me by a friend way back in 2019, when it was in theaters. I absolutely loved it (because The Avengers kick bad guys' asses), and I ordered two more Avengers flicks from the Libe: the first one and "Age of Ultron". Of course, I wish I'd seen them all on the big screen, but I'm hooked anyway, and I still have "Infinity Wars" to go. I think the appeal (and this is genius by the filmmakers) is the absolute perfection of the casting. Whoever cast this franchise had the right intuition for the chemistry that would make the series work, and hold the stories down amidst all the superhero CGI chaos. Who would've ever suspected ScarJo as a kick-ass action hero? The casting director! And Downey, Mark Ruffalo, relative unknown Chris Evans, and Jeremy Renner (a real life superhero), and self-effacing hunk Chris Hemsworth. They seem like a team in real life, outside the movie. Someone realized, "Hey, we need to humanise this thing", and they knocked it out of the park by picking exactly the right people. I can't wait to see the next Avengers movie on a giant screen in the theater, and now I have to visit Avengers Campus at California Adventure at Disneyland! 

I've been pondering "Who is the most powerful Avenger"?, and there are many online threads on the subject. The obvious choices would be Thor or Hulk, but some say The Scarlet Witch, who I didn't know of until I saw "Ultron". Remember, I'm an MCU newbie. I can't choose a most-powerful; it could be any of them in their different ways, but my favorite is Captain America.

And that's all I know for today. Thanks for reading. Tons of love, as always. 

May 14, 2025 (Charles B. Pierce, Freda, et al)

Hey guys, pop quiz: Who remembers Charles B. Pierce? Think hard, it'll come to you. Here's a hint: Dawn Wells...

Give up? Charles B. Pierce was an independent filmmaker who directed the all-time classic horror shocker "The Town That Dreaded Sundown". He must've also had a knack for marketing, because he used his middle initial in the credits, which not only Made Him Sound Important, it also let you know that he wasn't just Any Old Charles Pierce, he was Charles B. Pierce, Jack, and to give you an idea of his way with words, he also wrote the legendary Eastwood line "Go ahead...make my day". Now, as you may know, I happen to have a memory for details (and one heck of a memory, period) and I always remembered Charles B.Pierce, not to be confused with another independent filmmaker named Charles Band, who was strictly a horrormeister. Charles B. Pierce made his name in horror with his first film, "The Legend of Boggy Creek" and continued with "Town/Sundown", but in the 1980s he branched out with a Western called "Sacred Ground" that I discovered the other night on Tubi.

Man, the brahmas at Tubi must be some expert filmcasters because they keep unearthing heretofore unheralded gems. "Sacred Ground"(1983) is one such, the story of an Oregon fur trapper (big Tim McEntire, remember him?) who rebuilds a destroyed log cabin in Paiute country in 1861. He's got an Indian wife who's pregnant; now they have a place to live. What he doesn't know is that the cabin they've resurrected is on Paiute burial ground. This ain't "Poltergeist", but the Chief is still pissed off. His braves pull a stunt on Tim and his gal that I won't reveal, and it sets off a chain of revenge. Bug-eyed Jack Elam plays a trader along for the ride. Western staple LQ Jones runs the local wilderness outpost.

This movie is a minor classic and highly recommended. Charles B. Pierce not only wrote and directed but was also the cinematographer. The man was talented, as shown by his eye for landscape and his ability with actors; an early, nine-minute scene with McEntire and LQ inside the general store draws you in to the idea that you're about to see a very good film with a different take.

Tarantino may know it. If not, I've one-upped him again! 

Next up is "The Last Blitzkrieg"(1959), a low budget, b&w WW2 flick notable for being shot (almost) on location - Holland stands in for Belgium's Ardennes Forest. (Mini tirade - whatever happened to Holland? Why is it now "The Netherlands" and can Trump restore the name?) Van Johnson does an admirable job playing the leader of a German commando unit who are impersonating American GIs, right down to their Midwestern accents. They dress in American uniforms and are given a crash course in US culture: "Seig Heil! Who are the Cubs?" "A baseball team from Chi-ca-go, herr Hauptmann". Especially good is Dick York (later of "Bewitched" fame) as a genuine US Sergeant leading a recon patrol. The unusual script greys the line between good guys and bad guys. Ultra-handsome Kerwin Mathews (from the Harryhausen "Sinbad" movies) plays a dedicated Nazi soldier. This is yet another "Tarantino Probably Knows It" flick, and if he doesn't, you know the punch line: "Then I have another one up on him"!

Forget the Diddy Trial. That's nothing. How about The Sue Trial? Now that's something to get worked up about. The only thing is, it may never happen. Unlike Diddy, Sue is a Sovereign Citizen (or so she claims) and therefore cannot be prosecuted...

Question: what kind of trip is Mads Mikkelson on? Perpetual Nordic Stoicism? In "The Salvation"(2015), he's kind of a Danish Liam Neeson, deeply wronged and just as angry but lacking Neeson's Irish passion. Mikkleson is a total Stone Face, which I suppose is what his director wanted. This movie, a new-ish Western, was stylistically excellent but the dazzlery is all on the surface. The photography is computer perfect. The sets are fantastic, the look of the film uniformly grim, but the acting...well, Mads is very good but he's no Liam Neeson, who - though he plays the same role over and over - always makes you feel something. You connect with him. Mikkelson? Less so. And concerning Jeffery Dean Morgan, why does he seem to revel in playing the worst human beings who ever lived? I'm not even sure I like him as a person. That infamous "baseball bat" scene from "The Walking Dead" is the worst obscenity ever put on film or video. So yeah, to sum up: great looking movie in the "computerised, unnaturally lit and colored" sense (i.e. too slick), very good acting all around, but surface level. Eva Green glares her way through her scenes. The story? Nothing but pure violence and revenge. The verdict? A solid 90 minutes of brutal Western vengeance, but not as good as a Liam Neeson version would've been, filmed in natural light. 

Can we do a top ten drummers? 1) Carl Palmer. I've never seen a performance like CP's at Cal Jam, and I've seen Neil Peart 32 times. 2) Neil Peart. If it wasn't for Carl P, no one could touch Neil P. Mike Portnoy? You're joking, right? But even Neil said he couldn't play like Carl Palmer. 3) Ian Paice 4) Bill Ward 5) Jerry Gaskill 6) Phil Collins 7) Cozy Powell 8) Andy Ward 9) Richard Coughlin 10) John Weathers. Honorable mention: Bill Bruford, Nick Mason, and Michael Shrieve, who stole Woodstock...

I go down White Oak on my walks now. I started doing this last Christmas, to see the lights. My walk wasn't just White Oak then, but all of "Sherwood Forest", where my family once lived before it had that insipid name. After Christmas, my walk devolved to include only White Oak, because of the Meissner house, which is unnoccupied now and looks like it has been for quite some time. Walking past, I made the proclamation that it must never be lived in again, but maintained in it's empty, slightly run-down state for evermore: needing a coat of paint, maillbox askew, the right side gate eaten away. "It must never be occupied again," I state when I pass it, and that's because it's a House of Profound Evil, and thus must remain standing as a museum of evil deeds. Lys knows what I'm talking about... 

...and speaking of Lys, I have many routes for my evening walks, which are five miles in length and take about an hour and a half to complete. One such route takes me down Prairie Street to Crebs. I chose that street because a lady named Freda used to live there, on Crebs between Prairie and Plummer. Before she moved to Northridge (and Crebs Street), Freda was Pearl's neighbor in Reseda. Her son Richie was one of my earliest playmates, when I was about four years old, and when I was five and six, Freda would pick us up from school at Lorne Street Elementary. My family moved from Reseda to Northridge in January 1968. Next I heard of Freda, she owned a New Age bookstore in Northridge, lo and behold. It turned out that Freda was a psychic and an expert numerologist, something I didn't know when I was a little kid. My Mom had stayed in touch with her after we moved. Mom was way into astrology (I am, too, because of Mom), and she would occasionally stop in to visit Freda at her bookstore, which was located at Prairie and Reseda Boulevard. That was in the late 1970s. Cut to 2023. Pearl had died two years earlier. I was thinking about her, which caused me to remember Freda, who'd been her neighbor in the early '60s. I Googled Freda, to see if she was still around - she wasn't...she passed away in 2018. I also remembered that when we would drive to the mall, Mom would say, "Freda lives near here, on Crebs Street." Just for the heck of it, I Googled Freda's address. This was in 2023. As noted above, Freda's house was located on Crebs between Prairie and Plummer. One night that Fall, I walked past it. On the other side of Crebs, across from Freda's house, is the little cul-de-sac of Liggett Street. Like Freda, I am psychic too, but not with a natural gift like she had. Freda was so talented, she worked with the LAPD, according to Mom. With me, my ability is closer to an extreme level of intuition, and I have to work at it, but sometimes things "come to me" because I have a lot of memories that have been deliberately blocked or buried. And when I walked past Freda's house, and saw the Liggett Street cul-se-sac, I pictured Lys's car parked there: her famous White VW Rabbit.

Lys was parked there because, in my memory, she was at Freda's house. I was there, too. So was Lilly. Maybe even Ann. This was in the days of The Clandestine Car Rides, early 1990s, maybe '92. Give or take a year. I remember nights when Mom would tell me "Lillian is going to call", and I'd get so excited. It would be a "special" phone call, where I was supposed to let it ring a certain number of times, then wait for her to call back, or I would pick it up and there would be some "beeps" or something before Lilly said "hello". There was some kind of code or system associated with these phone calls, and then Lilly would arrange to meet me. These were the legendary Clandestine Car Rides, which I had no awareness of until 2023. Lys came along on some of them. There were at least three of these rides, maybe one or two more. One time, I met them at the Northridge Mall, to avoid all The Bad Guys at my house. But another time, I met them at Freda's house on Crebs Street. In 2023, I remembered the bronze metal "Sun" face Freda had next to her door. It's still there. I also remembered Mom giving me directions that day, telling me to access Prairie Street by way of the college, to avoid The Bad Guys trying to follow me. "You'll pass a tall hedge on Crebs", she said. "The next house will be Freda's". I remember it was blazing hot that day. When I got there I was worried about being all sweaty when Lillian arrived. Luckily, Freda had good air conditioning. Several people were in the living room: Lys was definitely there, maybe Ann. If Ann was there, I don't think she was big on numerology. Ann is more scientifically-minded. We were waiting for Lilly to arrive, and when she did, Freda gave us some little blessing or ceremony. Soft drinks were served.

Then we left, or at least Lilly and me and Lys did. That's why I remember Lys's White Rabbit, parked on the Liggett Street cul-de-sac. We went on a Clandestine Car Ride, but I don't remember where we went...

My memory often blows my mind, especially since there have been so many things I was deliberately made to forget. One of the Clandestine Car Rides was a visit to see Ann, in some building in the Studio City area. Possibly a medical facility. Lys came along on that one, too, in her own car, which she had to move because it was parked at a meter...

Lys, Lys...where for art thou, Lys? She was something of a hero in those days (especially in 1988/89). Lilly, of course, was and is the one-and-only Lilly. No words can ever suffice. :)

Anyhow, that's the story of Freda and her house. And there's more to it. One day it will be in a book. 

Thanks for reading. Tons of love.

May 6, 2025 (Guitar Solos, Paul Schrader's "Hardcore")

 Hi guys. Tonight, I'm thinking about guitar solos. You might know that I play guitar (though not as much as I used to because of Dupuytrens), and even before I started, at age 19, it was always my favorite instrument. Like many fans, I was always moved by a tremendous guitar solo in a song. From way back I remember feeling this way. One of the first that affected me was in "All Along the Watchtower" by Jimi, and at the opposite end of the spectrum, I loved the gentler but no-less-expressive solo in "Something" by George Harrison. Who would even concieve of playing a solo like that, right?

Of course, it was Sir Richard who first blew me off the map with his solo in "Highway Star" in 1972. In addition to being a connoisseur of guitar solos, I also (modestly) consider myself an expert on them, and as such, I've researched the issue, trying to find a more advanced solo than that one at that time, and I haven't been able to do it. I mean, it still sets a high bar 53 years later, but in 1972 it was unheard of, to play that fast and that clean with that much fire and musicality.

I'm saying all of this, and thinking about guitar solos tonight because - every so often - I like to ponder what the Top Ten might be. You know me, I love lists. I have an innate need to "put things in order", while aknowledging that, "yeah, lists might be stupid, enumerating "The Greatest This or That", but still, I love to do it, just for the heck of it. Also, a few times, I've Youtubed a famous-but-difficult solo to see if any of these modern shredmasters has figured it out. For a long time, I couldn't figure out Ritchie's solo on "Burn", which I consider the greatest of all time. It's my #1, I've known it in my head note-for-note since 1974, and I can hum it. But I never took the time to try to play it, even slowly, because there were just too many notes and bends and whammys. Then, in the last couple years, I found a Youtube Guy who figured it out and posted it, and I set out to copy his example. Now I can play it. Not like Ritchie, but I do a respectable job.

Much harder is Uli Jon Roth's solo in "Still So Many Lives Away". That's also in my Top Ten. I should note that, for me, technical difficulty doesn't give a solo brownie points, or someone like Steve Vai would get all the accolades. But Uli's solo is both technically advanced and extremely musical. It sound like violin playing. I would never have attempted to try learning it, even when I had use of all my fingers, but lo and behold, a Youtube Guy has now replicated it perfectly. These modern-day shredders can't write a memorable song, but they can copy and play anything.

So, with no further ado, let's list The All Time Top Ten Guitar Solos. Before we do, let's define what makes a classic solo. A classic solo, first and foremost, is dramatic. It usually comes in after the chorus following the second verse (and often a bridge). It "takes flight" from the vocal melody and builds on that theme in the guitarist's signature tone and phrasing, and in the very best solos it turns that melody inside out or "plays beside it". Finally, it builds to a crescendo and then climaxes. Think Jimmy Page in "Stairway to Heaven", which many consider the greatest solo of all time. These are the ingredients of a classic guitar solo. Now, what are the ten best? We have one rule: only one solo per guitarist, otherwise Ritchie Blackmore would get at least three and it wouldn't be fair. So here we go. Here are my top ten:

1) "Burn" by Sir Richard Blackmore

2) "Comfortably Numb" by David Gilmour. This or "Stairway" are the consensus #1 among many fans.

3) "Still So Many Lives Away" by Uli Jon Roth

4) "Rock Bottom" by Michael Schenker. Another I thought was unplayable but a Youtube Guy has done it! 

5) "Lonely in the Night" by the great Eric Johnson. It was a tough call between this and EJ's "Desert Rose."

6) "Crying to the Sky" by Bill Nelson. A brief but deeply emotional solo with heart-rending tone.

7) "Wurm" by Steve Howe

8) "Limelight" by Alex Lifeson

9) "Beyond the Realms of Death" by Glenn Tipton. A prime example of the classic, dramatic guitar solo.

10) "Blue Sky" by Dickie Betts. A beautiful solo that takes up most of the song.

You'll notice there are no solos by Edward Van Halen, one of the greatest guitarists of all time and one of my very favorites. You may disagree, but I don't put his solos in the "classic" category, a) because they were almost always brief - more like guitar breaks rather than solos - and b) Ed's playing was so idiosyncratic that he was almost using the entire song structure as a "solo canvas", playing all kinds of voicings, sounds, and "call-and-response" to the vocals. He never played a lengthy solo of the type we are listing. This takes nothing away from him, obviously, but he's His Own Thing and doesn't fit what we are listing. If I had to pick an EVH solo that most resembles our list, it would be the one in "Dreams", which has soaring musicality and drama but is also brief. 

On a side note, I have to mention The Longest Guitar Solo Ever Played (at least as far as I know). That's the one in "Green Grass and High Tides" by The Outlaws. I kid you not: I once went into Trader Joes when that song was playing on the radio. The solo had just started, and I turned the car off, went in the store and shopped...and when I came out and started the car, the solo was still going. I've never forgotten that. 

Some honorable mentions: "Symptom of the Universe" by Tony Iommi, "Fade" by Ty Tabor, "Just One Victory" by Todd Rundgren, "Shesmovedon" by Steven Wilson.

I watched "Hardcore" the other night on Tubi. The movie has historical significance in my life because I first saw it on Saturday February 10, 1979, the day after it opened, which was also two days before I started working at MGM. Eight days earlier, I had driven my sister Vickie to Columbia Studios (aka Warner Bros, The Burbank Studios, etc.) so she could meet with our "Uncle" Earl Hamner to enquire about a part for "The Waltons". I remember the exact date because it was the day Sid Vicious died. I worked for Metrocolor until December 1981, when I was let go following a suspension. As for the movie, "Hardcore" was noted for its X-rated subject matter and the full-frontal nudity of Season Hubley, who co-starred with George C. Scott. His famous, explosive line, "Turn it off.....turn it off....TURN IT OFF!!!" became a meme for me and my friends for a few weeks. We went to see it because it was written and directed by Paul Schrader, and also because of the nude scene (a big deal when you're 18 years old), which turned out to be a half-second long. On first view, the movie didn't make a big impression, possibly because I was preoccupied with starting a major-league job, and was nervous. At the time, we (me and Pat Forducci) thought it was "pretty good" but not great.

Watching it a second time, now aged 65, my opinion is more nuanced. "Hardcore" still doesn't qualify as great, much less a classic like the Schrader-penned "Taxi Driver". It remains "pretty good", but my opinion is affected by my life story. I now applaud Schrader for what I see as his moral excoriation of Hollywood, L.A. Sex Culture and of course the porn "industry", which has since been "legitimized" but began as an out-in-the-open underbelly of lowlifes, mostly men, and the women who were jaded or young and naive enough to "work" for them. Schrader destroys them in this movie. They all get creamed in the end. George C. gets his daughter back. Ya gotta remember that Schrader wrote "Taxi Driver" as a revenge story, in which Travis Bikel - a Vietnam Vet (remember, they were spit on) - cleans up the scum of New York City. "Hardcore" is like  the L.A. sequel to that film, with George C. playing the Travis Bikel role, only this time, he's a version of Schrader himself: a Calvanist father (Schrader was raised Calvanist) whose daughter runs away from home. Season Hubley plays the porn actress who puts her life on the line to help him find her, and when you scrutinize her performance (which is quite good), it's easy to see her as an older version of "Taxi Driver"'s Iris Steensma, the 13-year-old hooker played so memorably by Jodie Foster. Schrader is a moralist, and I think he does believe in God, despite the fact that you can't admit it when you work in Hollywood (Mel Gibson excepted), and he also wrote a third movie called "Rolling Thunder", an all-time revenge masterpiece in which William Devane and the great Tommy Lee Jones go after a bunch of ruthless rednecks who steal Devane's honorary silver dollars (one for each day he was a P.O.W.) and grind his hand off in a garbage disposal.

I like Paul Schrader, not only because he makes good movies but because he hates bad guys as much as I do. His films show the good guys getting revenge as they win. In addition, to Schrader's credit, he was one of two people - the other being me - who saw Scorsese's "Raging Bull" for what it was, a boring waste of celluloid. Critics spewed all over themselves to praise that flick. Gene Siskel called it the greatest film ever made. In reality, it sucked and Schrader nailed it. I've always remembered his quote from an interview: "Marty sure dropped the ball on that one". Well, anyhow...  

How about a few Bands I Wish I'd Seen? We always think of our favorite concerts; what about the ones we missed? For me, the #1 Band I Wish I'd Seen is Van Der Graaf Generator, followed by Gentle Giant, Caravan, Frank Zappa at The Roxy (his legendary 1973 shows), David Bowie at the Santa Monica Civic in 1972, Traffic (same year, same venue), Genesis at The Roxy on the "Selling England" tour, and Elton John at The Troubadour (talk about a legendary show)...so there's a few. I know, I know: what about Jimi, The Four Zepplini Brothers, The Allmans, etc...yeah, I would love to have seen them, too, but the above listed bands are the first I'd go back and see if I had a Time Machine and a ticket to each show.

Anyhow, that's all for tonight. Make sure to listen to the songs with The Top Ten Guitar Solos and see what you think. Thanks for reading and Tons of Love, as always.

April 28, 2025 (Alice Cooper and other stuff)

Howdy folks. Sorry for the extra-long delay in my blogging. It's a combination of writing all day (for my book) on one hand, and conversely, feeling that I don't have anything worth blogging about on the other hand. I've watched a truckload of movies in the past two weeks, but endless movie reviews must get boring (I should ask you guys; do they? Heck, I dunno. I just write them. I'm not on the "reading end"). Anyhow, here's some amazing news: The original Alice Cooper group is back together! You may have heard about it by now, and most fans our age know that it was a group, not just a singer named Alice Cooper, but yeah, they have a new album coming out, their first in 50 years! What other band has ever broken up, then gotten back together a half century later? Holy smokes. The first single was released this week, it's called "Black Mamba", and - as produced by Bob Ezrin - it has that classic "haunted" AC sound. The album is titled "The Revenge of Alice Cooper", and I can say I haven't been this excited for a record in a long time. I never thought nor expected this to happen. If they tour...well, I won't count my chickens, but I missed the 1973 Billion Dollar Babies tour, the band's last, which was one year before I started going to concerts, so if they tour for this new album, man I'll be over the Moon...

There's one movie I have to review, so I hope you'll indulge me. It's called "The Homesman"(2014), and I saw it last night on Tubi. You don't expect anyone to make a Western in this day and age, must less a great one; the classic era for the genre was the late '40s through the early '70s (not counting Spaghetti Westerns which were horrible and I love to harp on them). There was a slight resurgence in the early 1990s (no, not "Unforgiven", that was horrible, too) with the all-time great "Tombstone", and also "Wyatt Earp", which was pretty good. But at any rate, while browsing Tubi, I came across this movie, which starred Tommy Lee Jones and Hilary Swank. Jones also directed, so it felt like it was worth a shot. If it was boring, I could always turn it off - right? - then look for something else. But, my fellow cinephiles, that turned out not to be a problem. It was riveting from Frame One, and you absolutely have to see it. "The Homesman" is not only one of the great Westerns of any era (and has all the Western elements you could want) but it's also one of the best movies period, of any style, that I've seen in a long time. I don't like most modern movies, as you know, but forget that for now. I can't tell you much about the story, but I'll give you the basics. Hillary Swank, who again shows herself to be a phenomenal actress, plays "Mary Bee Cuddy", an unmarried frontier woman of ability and means, who lives in the Nebraska territory. The year is 1854. The Territory is flat, wide open, and barely populated. Many of the pioneers who come there struggle or give up and leave. It's an especially hard place for women (excepting Mary Bee, who "is as capable as any man"), and three young wives have gone insane, for different reasons that I won't reveal. Their husbands can't cope, so straws are drawn by the local preacher (John Lithgow) to see who will ferry these ladies to a hospice in Iowa, five weeks away by wagon in the dead of winter. Through circumstance, Mary Bee gets the job. Upon leaving, she comes across Tommy Lee Jones, an old Army vet who's about to be hung for claim jumping. She decides he's worth saving, if he agrees to help her make the trek, which is gonna be harder than she thought. She decides it wouldn't hurt to have a man along.

That's about all I can give you without revealing spoilers. "The Homesman" apparently had a limited release, and didn't get much press, which is likely why you and I have never heard of it. But I'll say right now: Lion's Gate blew it, because everything about this movie screams "12 Oscar Nominations!" The photography is Spielbergian, as is the music. It has a pro-female theme for the modern era, without being woke or "politically feminist". Hillary Swank should've won her third Best Actress Oscar. There are many twists and turns, one of which is The All Time Spoiler Alert - don't even think about Googling it! Another involves Tommy Lee's character. If you liked him in "Rolling Thunder", you'll love this particular scene. "Homesman" is a five star film, and it doesn't drag at all. There are classic, single scenes with great charater actors like James Spader and Tim Blake Nelson. Finally, Meryl Streep makes an appearance, and her daughter, Grace Gummer, plays one of the crazy women. What a cast! What a story! What a movie! You need to see it, and you'll be glad you did, thanks to Tubi... 

Since we mentioned "Tombstone", we can segue to the late Val Kilmer, who - I was fascinated to learn - was a Christian Scientist. When told he had throat cancer, he at first planned to forego medical treatment in favor of prayer and spiritual alignment with God (with the help of a Christian Science practitioner), and he did this until his children protested, at which point he acquiesced and underwent surgery. My interest in the subject is ancestral; my Dad's mother (my grandmother) was a Christian Scientist. She contracted tuberculosis in 1937, when Dad was 17, and she died a year later at age 53. Dad suffered through the ordeal with her, watched her get sick and eventually die. Only once did he tell me the terrible details, but mostly he couldn't talk about it, and there is no doubt it affected him profoundly. He was only a high school student at the time, and his mother wouldn't go to the doctor, preferring to rely on her faith and the Christian Science principles for healing. I've wondered if medical treatment would have done her any good. Tuberculosis, in 1937, was practically a death sentence anyway. The takeaway from this story, and Val Kilmer's, is a conundrum: what is "the right thing to do" when one is a Christian Scientist but has children? Is it moral to proceed on faith, knowing the possibility that forgoing medical treatment could lead to death? Dad tried to indicate indifference when I was a kid, but I know he loved his Mom dearly and was crushed when she died. Did she make the right choice, in following her beliefs, or was it a wrong (even selfish) decision because the result deprived a son of his mother? (In addition, Dad's father left before he was born, so losing his Mom left him parent-less at age 18.) 

I am not trying to answer any of these questions, nor am I making a moral judgement on my Grandma Louise, and as I say, the probability is that she would've died anyway. Tuburculosis had a very high rate of mortality until streptomycin was discovered in 1944. My guess is that Louise, knowing the death rate of TB, resigned herself to her fate, and decided against medical intervention not only because of her Christian Science beliefs but also because she knew that her doctor could only postpone the inevitable. Thus, she chose to heal through alignment with the Highest Physician, Jesus Christ, and it didn't work out (in the physical sense, anyway). This is why many people malign and even mock Christian Science, because not all believers experience healing, and many with serious illnesses die. I have an opposite opinion. I'm not against Chistian Science, I certainly don't think it's foolish, and I'm actually amazed by it because, first of all, I love my Grandmother (even though I never knew her), and just as importantly, I am astounded by that level of faith, and aspire to it and believe I have it. I believe in God, and I believe in mind-over-matter, which is another way of saying that the human spirit is more powerful than the human body. I've also never really been a "doctor person". My last checkup was sometime in the Stone Age, and I've been blessed with mostly good health. I do have a few maladies like Dupuytrens (several fingers are bent out of shape) and a lifelong problem with hernias, but I've basically felt pretty good all my life, and I trust my body, and have just never "gone to the doctor" like you're "supposed to do" every six months or once a year, because my body tells me I'm healthy. And also, due to my highly unusual life story, and the fact that I've survived more than one near-death experience (by all rights, I shouldn't be alive), I have an unshakeable faith in Jesus Christ and God the Heavenly Father. However I don't know if I could rely on faith alone it if I was diagnosed with a serious illness and had children who would be affected by my decision.

 Anyhow, just because we're on the subject, it's important to point out that there are thousands of published testimonies on complete Christian Science healings. That's why I admire Val Kilmer, because he kept his faith, and he also tried to honor his children's wishes. I also respect my grandmother's decision, though I was not in my Dad's shoes as her son. Fortunately, Dad still had his grandma, a very strong woman who saw him through college and into the Air Force. Interestingly, though Dad said he "threw his Bible into the fireplace" after Louise died, when I was in my twenties he subscribed to The Christian Science Monitor, a paper noted for its honest and intellectually nuanced journalism.

A few more thoughts: I was once atheistic, and more specifically, religion was something I mostly didn't think about. It could even irritate me at times, in the days of Jimmy Swaggart and the like. But in my late 30s, when the reality of my life began to hit me, I became very interested in faith, and the mystery of the Holy Trinity. This was around 1998, when my memory was coming back. I learned that I'd survived near-death in extreme situations more than once, and I began feeling gratitude for that. My gratitude was directed at a general idea of God, but my belief became Christian-based when I started going to church with my Mom. I never went to Mass; we'd just go sit in the chapel, which was close to Mom's apartment (and is just across the street from my building). Then Mom got sick in 2005, and when she was in the hospital, I went to her church by myself, and prayed to Mary for Mom's healing. Mom of course died (of stage 4 throat cancer), but all of those solitary prayer sessions did something to me, and even though Mom was "gone", I still felt her presence, which gave me great hope and increased my faith, which now is the core of my existence. Getting back to medicine, you could say I'm kind of an unofficial observer, a "Christian Scientist on the sidelines". I believe in God, and I know God created me, put my spirit into my physical body, and therefore God knows more about me than any doctor. I believe that all disease (dis-ease) is "of the devil", and I am fascinated by mind-over-matter. The casual observer, who has only heard about it but not read Mary Baker Eddy's story or her philosophy may write off Christian Science as "superstitious nonsense" or worse, but it is actually a logic-and faith-based philosophy.

Anyhow, "good health to all". That's what I pray for. I thank you for reading, and I'll talk to you soon.

God Bless, and tons of love.

April 13, 2024 (Movies, Music, Happy Ritchie Blackmore's Birthday)

Hi folks, and Happy Ritchie Blackmore's Birthday. It's actually tomorrow but you can start celebrating now. Can you even believe he's 80? I'll bet he can't believe it either, but he's still out there Doing What He Does, in fact he's playing gigs with Blackmore's Night this month. Ritchie has been integral to my life for 53 years, but of course that goes without saying...

I hope you had a nice weekend and are ready for Easter Week. This book I'm working on (working title "2009") is based, in part, on my diary from that year, but its other "framework" (for Part Two of the book) is a series of notes from an experiment I undertook in 2023-24, which is related to my diary and to 2009 in general. Neither the notes nor the experiment can be revealed at the present time because it would spoil the surprise, but my point is that there are two basic "framing devices" for the book: My 2009 diary (which, for our purposes, will encompass March 2009 thru April 2010). It will be printed in full, and the day-by-day entries will be analysed with the benefit of hindsight. This will bring us to Part Two, where the notes from my recent experiment will be used. Taken as a whole, they are also like a diary or journal, made up of daily entries which, like the diary entries, will also be published in full and examined. This will make up a highly complex story that will run a minimum of 500 pages, and could be as long as 800 (or even 1000). I've learned that 2009 was almost as mindblowing a year as 1989, and as terrible in the ways that are terrible, and that the events of both years are partially connected.

Having enough material for this book is no problem; I've got an avalanche. The problem is telling the story so that it unspools smoothly (or as smoothly as possible) because it has so many twists and turns, and so many participants. Wish me luck. This book is gonna upset several people. I'm questioning if I can even release it. But I know I must write it - to fail to do so would be a sin on my part, and a grave mistake as I head into older age.

Anyhow, let's move on with some movies and a touch of music, shall we? World War Two, anyone? I'm always up for a WW2 flick, and I saw a great one last week called "The Bridge at Remagen"(1969), relentless & brutal, shot by the great Stanley Cortez in dark blues and greys, and featuring grim-faced "stoic" acting by George Segal, and Robert "Man from U.N.C.L.E." Vaughan as a ruthless German Army major tasked with blowing up the Remagen bridge in the last days of the war, to prevent the Americans from crossing into the Rhineland. The problem is that blowing it up will also strand 75 thousand German troops and likely condemn them to death. Ben Gazarra is tremendous in a supporting role as a combat-hardened sergeant who steals jewelry off the bodies of dead Germans, to sell later as souveniers. This pits him against the disgusted Segal....but the attrition of the protracted battle brings them back together. This movie is combat-oriented and reminded me in that way of the great, underrated Vietnam film "Hamburger Hill", in which soldiers know a pointless objective when they see one, but must follow orders regardless. Though not as well known as the star-studded "A Bridge Too Far"(1977) or the Oscar-winning "The Longest Day" (1962), "The Bridge at Remagen" is equally powerful. It has that "you are there" emotional presence of "Platoon" on a WW2 scale. 10/10.

I also went to another Luis Bunuel screening at CSUN's Armer Theater, for "Nazarin"(1959), the story of a priest in a Mexican ghetto who hides a prostitute sought for murder. She and another local woman thus view him as a Saint, but the title is too much to bear and he collapses under its weight. It's the best Bunuel I've seen so far and highly recommended, perfect for Easter time. Another great Easter film is "The Flowers of St. Francis"(1950), directed by Roberto Rosselini.

We mentioned Vietnam movies, and I finally saw Coppola's "Gardens of Stone"(1987), once again on Tubi, my go-to for films I missed the first time around. The mid-to-late 80s was a time for tremendous Vietnam flicks, notably "Platoon", "Full Metal Jacket" and the previously mentioned "Hamburger Hill". Those were mostly combat focused. Not so "Gardens of Stone". When it was released, I read reviews that used words like "somber","psychological", and "deliberate", and I got the mental image of a slow paced, depressing film, with no war action, and despite it being directed by Francis Ford Coppola, I decided to skip it. That turns out to have been a mistake because - while it is a drama rather than an action film - the story is what's important here, and it is well-paced and played. It covers the "toy soldiers" who serve in the burial unit at Arlington National Cemetary. Formally known as The Old Guard, they are ceremonial in duty, but must be squared away at all times. Only the cream of the crop from West Point are accepted. It seems a cushy assignment; a selected soldier can stay there his whole career. He won't be shipped to Vietnam, but that's exactly what DB Sweeny's character wants. He's a top West Pointer with an ancestral military history who sees it as his duty to be in front line combat. James Caan plays DB's Sergeant. He and the Sergeant Major (James Earl Jones) warn DB against this gung-ho mentality: "Listen son, there's no 'front line' in Vietnam, it's guerilla warfare". In other words, there aren't rules, it's a jungle war against an invisible enemy who've been fighting for 1000 years. But Sweeny remains determined to go.

Caan is excellent in the lead role as the classic Sarge, but unlike every other man on base, he thinks this war is run by politicians who don't know what they're doing, and we shouldn't be there. In the first 15 minutes, he meets Angelica Houston, a writer for the WaPo and a hard core anti-war leftist. They fall in love, and that aspect makes the film an old fashioned melodrama not unlike "The Best Years of Our Lives", in how it shows the effect of war on loved ones, i.e. "the folks back home", though this is set in 1968, a  much more turbulent time than patriotic 1945, and the protests against Vietnam are raging. Rock concert promoter Bill Graham plays an anti-war provocateur who picks a fight with Caan and gets his butt kicked, which is cool because Bill Graham was an a-hole in real life. The movie's final shot shows the suffering of the Vietnam wives, who payed an equal emotional price to their husbands' sacrifice. It's not an action war film, but worth watching nonetheless: a drama about burying the dead, and one sergeant's effort to assist a young man hell bent on joining combat.

Is this too many movie reviews? Can you handle one more?

How about "Chappaquiddick"(2017). The lead actor, an Aussie named Jason Clarke, absolutely channels a young, self-absorbed Ted Kennedy, who after the accident is more worried about what his father will think than he is about Mary Jo Kopechne. Some details may have been taken from a book by Kennedy friend Joe Gargan. I'd never heard of him before this film, but he was a close pal of Teddy who helped "deal with" the incident, which happened in July 1969, just a day or two before the Apollo 11 Moon Landing. Judy Garland also died the same day, so Kennedy was lucky in the "news" sense. Chappaquiddick was still in the headlines, but in a slow news cycle it would've been the sole focus. I remember my Mom talking about it. She liked the Kennedys, especially Bobby, but she thought Ted left Mary Jo to drown, and whether she drowned or suffocated (and thus was alive and could've been rescued) is explored in the movie. However, Ted and his team of lawyers are great "fixers". They band together to "solve the problem" so his political career won't be destroyed, and of course that's exactly what happened; he was only charged with "leaving the scene of an accident" and ended up serving 40 years in the Senate, one of the longest terms to this day. Some things are portrayed as unknown, such as whether Kennedy was having an affair with Mary Jo (there's no evidence to suggest this). In the movie, he seems burdened by the expectations of his gravely disabled father, a stroke victim who sees Teddy as weak compared to his three deceased elder sons. Teddy knows he can't compete with their legacies, and all of this is on his mind while Mary Jo is still in the pond.

And yet, Teddy is not played as a monster, or even with a sinister motivation. The filmmakers do show his desire to tell the truth against Old Joe's wishes to use an alibi, yet he can't bring himself to fully come clean. His attempts are half-hearted, it seems more important to save the Kennedy name and his career. He also engages in theatrics such as wearing a neck brace to Mary Jo's funeral. Gargan's book alleged that Teddy at first tried to claim she was driving the car. The accident is portrayed as the result of his desire to escape scrutiny. A long shot shows Teddy's car parked off a lake road, and an island cop, suspecting teenagers making out (or worse) stops to chase them off, not knowing it is Senator Kennedy in the car. This detail must've been in Gargan's book, otherwise it would be wild speculation. Teddy, fearful of having the cop approach his window, starts the engine and speeds off, but as he revs it down the dirt road in the wrong direction to take Mary Jo home (not drunk but probably beyond the limit), he misses the turn for the rickety bridge and goes into the water.

Overall, "Chappaquiddick" is a fair-minded portrayal of the entire incident. The only problem is that Mary Jo Kopechne gets little respect. As always, even with this movie, it's all about the Kennedys. 9/10

Okay, okay...one more. Is that cool? Thanks. I'll keep it brief.

"The Grey"(2011) is a tremendous survival flick (one of the best you'll ever see), that explores the various certain-death scenarios facing seven Macho Men who have survived a plane crash in the Alaskan wilderness. Their main enemy is a pack of bloodthirsty wolves, and this aspect of the film apparently caused controversy when it was released. Lupine behaviorists cried "wolves don't act that way!" But the wolves are almost symbolic. I mean, this is still a hard core Death Movie, fixated on the most horrible things that can befall you, and there really are big, bad ass wolves in the wild ready to eat you alive. And they are amped-up in the movie to be monstrous, but again it's a metaphor for the absence of God, or the power of nature over faith, at least that's what the filmmakers seem to be trying for, and it apparently pissed a lot of people off. I don't agree with the final message, but as horror flicks go, the filmmakers succeded in the same way John Carpenter did with "The Thing". And also, is there a better actor than Liam Neeson? Lately, I am thinking not. If you're ever in a plane crash in Alaska, with giant wolves chasing you, he's the guy you want by your side. An actor named Frank Grillo gives Neeson a run for his money in a "giving up" scene near the end. Dallas Roberts and Bob Dylan McDermot Mulroney are also excellent. 10/10, a must-see, on Tubi. 

A little music: I've been listening to the solo albums of Steve Howe, who also had a birthday this week, his 78th. Two of his albums ("Turbulence" and "The Grand Scheme of Things") take me right back to the early 1990s and put me inside 9032, almost as if the last 35 years have been just the blink of an eye. Ahh, 1991-93, a time of Clandestine Car Rides with Lilly, a wonderful pre-Earthquake era. Life is so weird, because when you are younger, you think of everything as being in front of you, and then 35 years pass and those things are in the rearview mirror, but certain albums and songs can bring them all back and place them "in the present" again. This is what happens when I listen to Steve Howe... 

Finally, do you guys like golf? I do. Me and Pearl used to watch The Masters every year. There is something quite wonderful about the course at Augusta, the gentlemanly nature of the game (the good sportmanship, the absence of showboating seen in major sports), and the ritual of the Green Jacket. We looked forward to it every April, with Spring in the air and the coming of Easter. Today, I watched the final playoff between Rory McIlroy and Justin Rose, and it was amazing to see Rory's reaction to his first Master's Championship. Check it out if you haven't seen it. He's one of the Good Guys in today's athletic world. It's already being called one of the Great Sports Moments and one of the most exciting days in golf history.

And that's all for today. Thanks for reading and don't forget to think of Ritchie tomorrow on his birthday.

Tons of love as always. 

April 7, 2025 (Movies & Music)

Hi folks, and Happy Monday. I'm hard at work on my "2009" book, but since I can't reveal any details, it's gonna be movies and music again. At night, while reading, I've been listening to selections from the Mercury Living Presence series, considered by stereo enthusiasts to be the greatest orchestral recordings ever made, some of which were recorded on the "sound strip" of 35mm film. During my time at the Metrocolor lab (way back in the Stone Age), we called this the "track", and it had a special solution (apart from the film chemicals) to develop it. Anyhow, if you like symphonic music presented in incredible stereo sound, give a listen to Mercury Living Presence. I'm only listening on Youtube through cheap headphones; imagine how it sounds on vinyl though a proper stereo system! Try it and see. A good one to start with is "The Firebird Suite" by Igor Stravinsky, conducted by Anatol Dorati. Or try "Bluebeard's Castle" by Bartok. Note: there was a competitor to Mecury Living Presence called Living Stereo by RCA. It's probably just as good, sound-wise. 

Last Wednesday, I made another visit to the Armer Theater at CSUN for Luis Bunuel's "Los Olvidados"(1950), the story of a group of street kids in Mexico City, one of whom falls under the criminal spell of a teenage delinquent and becomes implicated in a murder. This film shows the abject poverty in the Mexican ghettos circa 1950, and is regarded as one of Bunuel's greatest works, though extremely bleak in the tradition of post-war Italian Neo-realism.

I also saw "Conclave", which I thought was excellent. I don't wanna give any spoilers. It's somewhat in the same vein as "Angels and Demons" but that's a broad comparison, made only because there's a Papal Conclave in each film. This one is plotted as a process of elimination in which the moral fallibilities of each candidate are exposed. You find yourself rooting for Ralph Fiennes to accept the mantle, but he has his own crisis to deal with. There's a twist - I won't tell you when, and I absolutely did not see it coming, but it's something of a mindblower. Some might say it's a Woke statement, but I thought it was the opposite of that because the reasoning behind the message (in the twist) is entirely non-political, though there are political themes along the way. The Church is supposed to be above politics, but of course, its leadership is only human and people in positions of power often strive for more, in righteous or unrighteous ways. At any rate, I loved the simplicity of "Conclave", which plays out like a courtroom drama with tremendous acting by all parties (including a quietly intense Isabella Rosselini). Filmed on location in Rome, with beautiful photography. 10/10, don't miss it. 

In music news, it's been confirmed that Sir Ritchie Blackmore had a heart attack 18 months ago. RB has a Youtube channel (run by assistants because he doesn't do that sort of thing) and occasionally, his wife Candice will cajole him into telling late night "Tales From the Tavern" from their in-house bar, and because Ritchie is such a dry wit and great storyteller, with over 60 years of rock stories to relate, these "Tales" are highly entertaining. One clip, however, may have caused concern or confusion among his fans. I know it did for me, when Ritchie, talking about touring as he nears 80, mentioned that it was getting more difficult to travel due to a series of "maladies" he's afflicted with, including gout and arthritis. Then he said, "I've also got six stents in my heart. I collect them, you know". That comment no doubt took fans aback. Ritchie goes in for black humor, but his wife was with him when he said this, and I thought "If it was a joke, she'd have stopped him" because it would not be funny. The clip was posted about six months ago, and I occasionally Googled "Ritchie Blackmore" + "Stents", or "Ritchie Blackmore Health", but nothing came back. I imagine other fans made similar inquiries, and now we know what he meant because the news has been revealed by Candice. But long live Ritchie Blackmore, I say. Candice says he's been forbidden to fly by his doctors, probably due to cabin pressure, so Blackmore's Night can't play in Europe, and they haven't played the West Coast in twenty years, but as long as Ritchie is in the world, all is good. And speaking of guitar players named Ritchie, or in this case Richie (minus the t): Richie Faulkner of Judas Priest, a mere 45 years old, has said a few days ago that he recently suffered a stroke as a complication from his near-fatal aortic dissection in 2021. It's been a rough time for English guitarists named Richard, but we pray they will be with us for many years to come, Thank You Dear Lord.

Here's an obscure film for you: "The Visitors"(1972), which I discovered by accident after watching "Casualties of War" on Tubi. A 1989 screening of "Casualties", of course, plays a huge role in the story of that year, and this was my first time seeing the movie since then. It's one of the great Vietnam War films, and Sean Penn is very good doing his Robert Duvall imitation. While researching the movie afterwards, I read about the incident it is based on, which was first written up as an article in The New Yorker. The legendary director Elia Kazan read it, and got the idea to make a movie about the speculative aftermath of this war crime, musing on what might happen after the soldiers got out of Leavenworth Prison on greatly reduced sentences. Kazan's films read like a greatest hits of cinema: "A Streetcar Named Desire", "On the Waterfront", "East of Eden", so if there were no credits on this one, you'd never guess that such a Mount Rushmore director would make a low budget flick that has the gritty feel of "Straw Dogs" mixed with the slow-building dread of "Texas Chainsaw Massacre". A 25-year-old James Woods plays the Michael J. Fox role, and Steve Railsback of "Helter Skelter" fame plays Sean Penn. The acting is realistic. What is threatened in "Casualties of War" (that the bad guys might seek revenge against Fox when they get out of prison) actually happens here, but not in the cut-and-dried way you might think. What happens takes the whole movie to unfold, and is greatly enabled by the (possibly fictionalised) character of Woods' girlfriend's macho father, a hard drinking WW2 vet who is glad to have some fellow soldiers to talk to. The portrayal by actor Patrick McVey is what brings this film to Texas Chainsaw level. When the viewer feels he or she is in the presence of truly dangerous people, it goes beyond acting, and the scene where they watch the 1969 Super Bowl between the Jets and Colts is some seriously demented male bonding, spooky stuff indeed. Railsback shows himself to be a genius actor, maybe too genius because he became typecast as a psycho. Having said all of this, the film may belong to the only female character, Woods' girlfriend/McVey's daughter, played by Patricia Joyce, whose actions seem inexplicable at one point late in the film and lead to the brutal climax.

"The Visitors" was entered at Cannes, and while it didn't win any awards, it is a study in tension from start to finish. I wonder if Tarantino knows about it? If not, I have one up on him! Watch it on Tubi, my new favorite movie channel. 

And that's about all for tonight. Thanks for reading and tons of love. 

Movies (and The Red Dress)

 Howdy folks, I hope all is well on this final day of March.

In remembering Richard Chamberlain, whose death was reported yesterday, columnists have noted his iconic role as TV's "Dr. Kildare", and his performances in two of the most popular mini-series of all time,"Shogun" and "The Thorn Birds", but no one has mentioned "The Last Wave"(1978), the Peter Weir film that introduced me to Art House Cinema and made me a Chamberlain fan in the bargain. He plays an Australian lawyer defending an Aborigine man (David Gulpalil) in a murder trial. This movie was a mindblower, especially as it deviates into existential territory. While Chamberlain searches for evidence to exonerate his client, he learns about the Aboriginal belief in the Dream Life, and untimately discovers that an apocalyptic tidal wave is coming to sweep the earth and that he is their chosen god. It's an amazing movie, full of symbolism, and it blew our teenaged minds (me and Pat Forducci), so much that in 1980, when Chamberlain was announced to star in a stage play called "Fathers and Sons" in Beverly Hills, we bought tickets to see him live. I didn't follow everything he did, but his legendary status was established, for me, just from this one movie. I saw Chamberlain onstage again in 2012, in "The Exorcist" (with Brooke Shields!) at the Geffen Theater. I saw that play twice and sat front row center. Richard Chamberlain was 78 then but looked great and delivered a strong performance as Father Merrin. As Dr. Kildare, he went all the way back to my earliest childhood memories. All of that is enough to cement him as one of the greats, but I was surprised that none of the obits mentioned "The Last Wave". The scribes didn't do their homework. Anyway, see it if you never have, and God Bless Richard Chamberlain. 

Last week, I returned to the CSUN Cinematheque for the first time in 6 years to see Luis Bunuel's "Tristana"(1970) starring Fernando Rey and Catherine Denueve. I was alerted to the screening by Grimsley. We actually did a Bunuel retrospective with Professor Tim in 2011, so I saw the film back then, but a refresher course was in order after 14 years, and it was hosted by the same lady who took over after Tim was forced out as head of the Cinematheque in Spring 2018 due to the University's Woke policies. I attended a handful of screenings after that, in Fall 2018 and Spring 2019, but the Cinematheque was a shell of it's former self and I lost interest. It just wasn't the same without the Professor and all The Regulars in the first two rows. Tim's version of the Cinematheque even got written up in the Daily News and people attended from all over Los Angeles. The theater was always full (I was there every Thursday night for nine years), and when the University shut us down (likely because Tim was a white male), I told him, "this is the greatest movie club there ever was. Even UCLA doesn't have this". He was our own Siskel & Ebert, he knew his movies, and he was personable, but Woke took him out.

The lady who took over is very good, and certainly knows her stuff, but it wasn't the same in 2019 when I last attended (she got shut down for three years by Covid) and it's not the same now, audience-wise. There were only about 25 people there for "Tristana", but the film was tremendous, and they had guest speakers from the Bunuel Film Institute afterwards, so the effort is being made, and again, the new lady is very good.

If you've never seen a Luis Bunuel film, "Tristana" is a good place to start, as it follows a fairly conventional storyline. Or, you can dive right in to one of his more Surrealist efforts like "L'Age d'Or", or the short film "Un Chien Andalou", which influenced David Lynch...

It's all movies this week: on Saturday night I watched a great seafaring flick called "Damn the Defiant"(1962), which explores the same themes as "Mutiny on the Bounty". A British warship is off to Corsica to prevent Napoleon from entering Italy. Alec Guiness plays the fair-minded captain, Dirk Bogarde the upstart first officer. Bogarde was an incredible actor, and not unlike Richard Chamberlain in that, as a young man, he was cast in "pretty boy" roles but later went the Art House route. Burly Anthony Quale plays the leader of the midshipmen, who are "pressed" into military service. Marines and officers go into town and roust civilian males out of taverns and restaurants, and literally force them to sea, to fight against the French. Right away, Dirk Bogarde starts trying to take over the ship, to run it with an iron fist because he disapproves of Guiness's leniency. Much time is spent on the punishment of the men, over infractions like refusing to eat maggot-ridden bread. There are tremendous battle scenes (no CGI in 1962) with real wooden sailing ships, and a final showstopper involving a "fireship", something I'd never heard of that I'll leave you to discover for yourself. I'm surprised this film is not more well known because it's got it all - great story, world class acting, action, ship-to-ship cannon warfare, mutiny, and I have to make an aside here to remind you of the Four Prototypes (prerequisites) for all Star Trek episodes: 1) Jim has to have a romance 2) Sulu has to go crazy 3) Mr. Checkov has to disobey orders, and 4) Spock has to mutiny and/or fight Jim Kirk. At least one of those things happened in every episode, and if Spock was in this movie, the midshipmen would've gone through with the mutiny. If you like classic maritime movies like "Captain Blood" or "The Caine Mutiny", you'll like "Damn the Defiant", available on Tubi.

I also watched Liam Neeson in "The Marksman"(2021), doing what he does best: Vengeance in Protecting the Vulnerable. This time, he's an aging, widowed ex-Marine whose Arizona ranch is about to be foreclosed. Thus, he has Nothing Left To Lose when he unexpectedly becomes the guardian of a young Mexican boy who is sought by the ruthless and unstoppable leader of a cartel, a shaven-headed perpetually angry Man of Much Machismo. It's good stuff in the vein of "Death Wish", where bad guys get what is coming to them. 

Thanks to Tubi I finally saw "The Falcon and the Snowman"(1985), 40 years after it was released. I remember at the time that Pat Forducchenburger mentioned it with reference to Christopher Boyce because (I think) his brother worked at TRW. At any rate, a very good movie, no one did spy thrillers better than John Schlesinger, and Sean Penn was great before he got all sanctimonious. He's very good here, doing a Spicoli spinoff. 

Finally, I watched (also on Tubi) a documentary recreating the Tenerife Airport Disaster of 1977 (the worst in aviation history). Grim stuff. That one and Cerritos 1986...

To Elizabeth (if she's reading which I doubt): I want her to look at the Facebook page of Romany Gilmour, daughter of David. Romany is coming into her own as an artist, having sung and played harp on her dad's latest album, but for you Elizabeth, I want you to take note of the some recent photographs she has posted on her Facebook. Notice anything familiar? Like a Red Dress, perhaps? And in natural settings? I mean, omg, right? Hey Elizabeth...you invented the Red Dress motif! And we long ago announced that your photographic series was a monumental achievement. I've long been a champion of those portraits, and now Romany Gilmour is using the Red Dress also. She is a nice and very talented young woman (I saw her with her dad last October at the Hollywood Bowl), but the thing is, perhaps the universe has caught up with your achievement and another young woman has now unconsciously emulated it. Who knows. But though there are now two Red Dress ladies, there is still only one Original, and that's you. You created a photo series that will stand the test of time, and now Romany Gilmour, the daughter of one of the greatest musicians and songwriters who ever lived, has copied it. I'd say that's pretty cool... 

That's all for today. Back soon with more, happy April, tons of love.