THE PROTÉGÉ (Campbell, 2021)

in

(watched: sat/20220813 via Amazon Prime; directed by Martin Campbell and starring Maggie Q, Michael Keaton, and Samuel L. Jackson; released 20 August 2021.)

Entertaining-enough diversion courtesy of Campbell, a workhorse of an action director prone to occasional glimpses of brilliance (GOLDENEYE and CASINO ROYALE) and smashing heads through bathroom fixtures though this isn't one of them (brilliance, that is; someone does get smashed through a bathroom sink). Nonetheless, Maggie Q and Michael Keaton shine – Keaton, especially, chewing it up as a charismatic villain, sorta, amidst a mostly incomprehensible plot. Dig the homage to THE BIG SLEEP's sexy bookstore clerk scene only with a deadly assassin as the sexy bookstore clerk. Random thought: Keaton needs to take a turn as Philip Marlow – he'd be perfect. Recommended if you're looking for entertaining, brainless fare featuring solid performances from great actors who deserve better.

HOUSE OF BAMBOO (Fuller, 1955)

in

(watched: tue/20220816 via Criterion Channel; directed by Samuel Fuller and starring Robert Ryan, Robert Stack, and Yoshiko Yamaguchi; released 01 July 1955.)

Excellent offering from the annals of post-war films noir (with intriguing Western elements, the train robbery at the start being but one), in the vein of THE THIRD MAN with a Technicolor post-war Tokyo seen through Sam Fuller’s docudrama / journalistic starkness in the place of a B&W post-war Vienna and, unlike Joseph Cotten's Holly Martins, a protagonist who does “get the girl” (convincing chemistry between stars Robert Stack (if you or anyone you know has any information on the cases seen here tonight, please call…) and Yoshiko Yamaguchi) in the concluding cemetery shots but not before he gets bludgeoned by a young DeForest Kelly. Particular highlight is Robert Ryan's menacing villain, Sandy, whose qualifications for that adjective include – but aren’t limited to – murdering any of the gang that gets wounded during a robbery – "You weren't in control Griff (another Fuller Griff), you weren't in control" – whose own loss of control (shooting wildly into a crowd from atop a rooftop carnival) after being cornered during the botched final robbery / Stack-elimination effort is nothing short of terrifying. Currently streaming as part of Criterion's "Noir in Technicolor" series which I'm making my way through with gusto; also recommended (speaking of Joseph Cotten), Henry Hathaway's 1953 film NIAGARA, part of the same series, starring Marylin Monroe as one of the great femmes fatale.

sun/20220821

in

65ºF, clouds/sun: still aglow from EJK's kind words about the first issue of PRESS (A)... tendril branches cleared from power lines in an afternoon of surgery via electric pole saw atop a ladder (only hit by one falling limb, yay)... a Parenthetical Recluse day in these morning hours, compiling notes into reviews to be published throughout the week and adding quotations and bracketed things from current reads to their Obsidian sheet (far easier than trying to do it all at the end): making a weekly Sunday thing... speaking of Sundays, MacroParentheticals returns next Sunday; you can sign up here if so inclined... Sonnenfeld's THE ADDAMS FAMILY remains, 31 years since it came out, an absolute delight... the day awaits.

sat/20220820

in

63ºF, sun: storms and rain this weekend, apparently – more basement flooding in my future(?)... my back my back my fucking back in process of being less my back my back my fucking back thanks to one of those awesome massage guns (so worth it)... return to meditation (five minutes, three times a day) a pleasant pause and refocusing... a note to self in my handwritten illegibilities: FIND SMALL DETAILS – EVOKE, DON'T DESCRIBE... addition of a weight vest to the day's run a change – what kind of change, TBD... return of MAKING THE CUT a most welcome, pandemic-era balm of artistic celebration... 50 years to create, a mile and a half long, viewable only on foot: spectacular... the day awaits.

"My whole creative endeavor..."

in
"But part of me thinks, They liked my last book. Hurray. Now we move on. That moving on will undoubtedly involve massive disappointment on the part of others. It never happens this way twice. In a way, I find that sort of freeing. My whole creative endeavor is the repudiation of my last work with the new one... Stop getting better? There's no excuse for that."

This has long been a favorite passage of mine from one of my favorite authors – and it’s particularly resonant this morning as I scratch my brain and bang my head against the desk on the new thing.

fri/20220819

in

60ºF, sun; a little fog: my back my back my fucking back, day five – but not quite as bad today so it's all about the little victories... like that I'm still in love with my Lamy Studio LX (the latest addition to my obsession with all-black fountain pens)... or that SHE-HULK is absolutely fantastic: Maslany is perfect and the feel of the show just works right out of the gate – and I agree: the world needs a Yelena / Jen buddy comedy ... freedom/release the from in-lawn, conflicted and triggered but yay – at least I don't have to pretend anymore... a couple more movie reviews / catalogings – Sam Fuller's HOUSE OF BAMBOO and Martin Campbell's THE PROTEGE – coming later today (trying to get in the habit of writing up a little thing about most everything I watch) or throughout the weekend; finished Koji Fukada's GIRL MISSING (also Criterion) yesterday – will add to the cataloging, along with Ellroy's WHITE JAZZ – though both require more percolation... the Onion unleashes a classic… the day awaits.