ruminative plate juggling, ctd

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Yes I know it's plate spinning. I prefer juggling.

Asking myself: if I weren't doing this what would I be doing?

Far from cut and dry because I know that even if I weren't doing "this" I'd still be writing: it's such a part of me at this point - as one friend somewhat dismissively said of me, I always have something creative going on - whether I'm any good or not, that it would be akin to stopping breathing – or at least holding my breath.

But maybe the "this" is the caring about the gaining ideas, about the things outside of my control, a perpetual, plaguing "this," wrangling the cats, etc etc. Weary weary.

(Common theme over course of life, of career.)

All of that, of the "this," however, has too become like breathing – more of an asthma, a chronic condition. Definitely want to retire from that part – but it'll take some doing. Any / all effort(s) – whatever form it/they may take: right now, considering moving second workchunk into the afternoon so I don't have such a long period of not actively doing The Work but my internal clock / habit seems to resist any shifting of worktime – towards "fuck it, write" will be worthwhile.

Oh, speaking of: Juggling continues. Think it will work - in spite of a morning spent staring (and ruminating).

narrative plate juggling, in theory

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Decided that the only way I'm going to get everything done that I want to get done is to work both MainFictionThing and ComicsThing daily, creating a chain across the daily workblocks. Hopefully the variety and interplay will help with both; that one is in my glitchy prose and the other a communicative script for someone else SHOULD, in theory at least, prevent too many unwelcome narrative similarities. In theory.

WEREWOLF OF LONDON (1935) test make-up

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At left, the first, unused test of Jack Pierce's werewolf makeup for WEREWOLF OF LONDON; at right, the final version (teeth definitely appear to be the same). According to the excellent UNIVERSAL HORRORS: THE STUDIO'S CLASSIC FILMS, 1931-1946, by Tom Weaver (no relation, at least that I’m aware of) and Michael and John Brunas:

"Rumor has it that Hull protested about the prolonged application sessions, so a more modified look was created. Cortland Hull put the lie to this story: 'Henry said his point was not vanity, but how the script was written... Valerie Hobson and Lester Matthews were to have recognized the werewolf as being Glendon... Jack Pierce's original design would have made this recognition impossible.'"

(The book then goes on to describe some rather delicious drama between Hull and Pierce involving pulling rank and werewolf life-casts. Do check out the book - fantastic stuff.)

Controversial opinion: while WEREWOLF OF LONDON is a lesser film than THE WOLF MAN and Glendon less endearing (to a fault) than Chaney's Larry Talbot, I far prefer Pierce's (well and truly resisted) Hull-werewolf makeup to his classic Chaney-werewolf 'do. There's something about it that I find far more haunting: perhaps it's how recognizable Glendon is inside the wolf. Makes the story that much more tragic?

THE GREAT SILENCE (Corbucci, 1968)

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(Watched: sat/20221008 via Blu-Ray. Directed by Sergio Corbucci from a screenplay by Vittoriano Petrill, Mario Amendola, Bruno Corbucci and Sergio Corbucci; starring Jean Louis Trintignant, Klaus Kinski, Vonetta McGee, Frank Wolff and Luigi Pistilli. Released November, 1968.)

While I knew that if Wallace Stroby said it was good (as he did in our March conversation about my favorite film of all time, Leone's ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST) it would be, little did I expect to find myself engrossed in one of the most profound experiences of discovery I've had with a Western since, perhaps, OUATITW.

Snowbound, brutal, and utterly bleak: if Leone's works are singularly operatic love letters to the American Western signed by big kid with action figures, Corbucci's – especially here – are slices of neo-realist pulp (even in a movie about a guy with a gatling gun in a coffin) that dismantle all notions of convention and leave them thumbless across an unsparing landscape. Add Klaus Kinski as a sadistic bounty hunter and you've really got something to behold.

Side note: always a joy to see Frank Wolff (ill-fated in OUATITW as Brett McBain and in life, having committed suicide in 1971, at age 43) and Luigi Pistilli, familar – among other roles – to me as Tuco's monk brother in THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY.

Adding both a rewatch of Corbucci's DJANGO (saw it years ago) and a first watch of THE SPECIALISTS (the finale of Corbucci's "Mud and Blood" trilogy, with SILENCE being the second film in the unofficial sequence) to the list. Definitely one of those "I wish I could see it again for the first time" experiences.

NL by weekend / WEREWOLF BY NIGHT

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Which is far less sexy-sounding than Vampire Weekend (whatever happened to them anyhow? loved their stuff) but is nonetheless essential: managed to scrounge out more words than I expected and, via writing about them, brought my two-fold plans for taking a creative gamble on myself (ComicsThing and Another Thing) into sharper focus. On track to arrive in subscribers’ inboxes tomorrow morning.

WEREWOLF BY NIGHT is the best thing Marvel has done in a long time (though SHE-HULK is brilliant, as was WANDAVISION) and I want more of it. Always great to see a composer direct (though I can't think of any off the top of my head – I'm not including myself in it; I'd rather include those possessed of talent in both): they bring such a unique sense of timing to things.

something i wrote while i was writing something else

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There's a story Tom Petty told that I'm fond of telling myself and anyone within earshot, of when he and the Heartbreakers were recording what, IMO, is their greatest and most underappreciated album (1999's ECHO; might write a thing about it), and in the middle of recording one song, Petty stopped them, and said "I wrote a better song" while they were recording so they moved on and recorded this new song which was, indeed, spectacular (Track five, "Swingin'").

Anyhow: how it relates: I had written a whole thing about career / life plateaus and how I couldn't figure my way out of it but ended up figuring at least something to help me through it so I stopped writing the former piece, wrote and sent the email, and am now writing this to tell you / myself that I did just that.

And also an excuse to write about Tom Petty which I need to do more of.