“Let’s get nuts”

IN A LONELY PLACE (Ray, 1950)

(Directed by Nicholas Ray from a script by Andrew Solt and Edmund H. North, adapted from the 1947 novel by Dorothy Hughes; starring Humphrey Bogart, Gloria Grahame, Frank Lovejoy, and Martha Stewart . Released August 1950; watched 2023w17 via Criterion Channel)

As a Bogart fanatic, that I hadn't seen LONELY PLACE until this week is among my great shames – at least when I remember having not seen it. Now that I've seen it, my shame is both eliminated and magnified: along with TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE, this is Bogart at his finest, his underrated talent as an actor – like Harrison Ford, his closest modern corollary (there's a reason why Ford played Bogart's role in the SABRINA remake), Bogart has a tremendous range and can inhabit almost any role: he is an artist of far more talent than the roles that made him iconic allow him to be – on full display.

As for Gloria Grahame? One of the best: Laurel oozes sex in her first appearances and expertly plays it as layer by layer the truth of herself is revealed in what has to be one of the most toxic and tragic relationships ever captured on film (as great as Bogey and Bacall were in their on- and off-screen pairings, I doubt this film would be as much of a classic had Bacall played the part of Laurel – though never underestimate Lauren Bacall); I'm not a relationship counselor, but I can confidently say that meeting by providing an alibi for your unknown and volatile neighbor accused of murder isn't among the healthiest ways to meet.

One thing that really stands out and defines the film: each of the doomed turns was from a shit/dickish decision Bogart made: to give Mildred cab fare instead of taking her home himself – let alone read the book himself; to ignore that last phone call because of his paranoia and rage, a phone call that could have saved – though probably not – a whole lot of trouble. She told you not to rush her, Dix.

So so good; a cinephile's shame is at an end.

lowering the stakes

A desire, over the next several months, perhaps the next year – or, hell, whatever remains of my creative life, to figure out how / force myself to write fiction faster – not in a Walter B. Gibson two-novels-a-month-for-nearly-20-years (285/326) sort of way – but in a way that's at least moderately quicker than my current and past.

(I'd be stoked with a longer short story / novellete per quarter.)

Key part: perpetual mental effort to lower the stakes, as Rick Rubin puts it in his excellent THE CREATIVE ACT (excellent – though an index wouldve been far more useful than blank ruled pages in the physical book) –

"We tend to think that what we're making is the most important thing in our lives and that it's going to define us for all eternity. Consider moving forward with the more accurate point of view that it's a small work, a beginning. The mission is to complete the project so you can move on to the next. The next one is a stepping-stone to the following work. And so it continues in productive rhythm for the entirety of your creative life."

– and relegate the belief that I was defined by a single work (ref: seven-year-paragraph) to the shitheap of my personal creative history.

Mouthpad

Designed by the folks at Augmental (a spin-off of the MIT Media Lab), the MouthPad is a Bluetooth-powered mouthpiece that lets anyone control electronic appliances with their tongue. A touch-sensitive panel sits against the roof of your mouth, allowing you to use your tongue as a finger of sorts to navigate interfaces. Tongue taps are registered as left clicks, while mouth gestures like pursing your lips (pouting duckface, for the Millennial and Gen Z readers) registers a right click. Through the MouthPad, individuals can now perform a variety of tasks with just their tongues. These tasks include sending emails, illuminating a room, enhancing photographs, and even engaging in video games. Additionally, Augmental guarantees that the mouthpiece’s sleek design will not impede speech, allowing users to communicate verbally with ease while wearing the device.