rewild

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Look I’m telling you I do intend to obey all of those links saved under "READ" in DoMarks (best bookmark app ever, period) but I've come to realize that I don't want something to read but rather something new to skim. Lesson being that it's time to pare back my online consumption habits to a more realistic, readable buffet and "rewild my attention," as Clive Thompson wrote. Also should institute a monthly culling of feeds and come up with a set of criteria for remaining in Reeder / Feedbin.

/202401260800

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Windy windy windy morning after a night of more or less solid sleep punctuated by weird dreams about John Romita and occasional beep-screeches from NuHerbie WRT insulin and battery running low, I can report that my little pocket pancreas is fully recharged and loaded with precious life-preserving insulin (yay) and though we still live in a world without John Romita (boo) at least we'll always have his work (yay) but yeah, damn, it's windy. 55º: running in shorts and holding on for dear life day today. New album from The Smile out today – and it's really good.

CRIMES OF THE FUTURE (David Cronenberg, 2023)

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First Cronenberg I've watched since A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE (or EASTERN PROMISES, whichever one came last) and I'm both underwhelmed and bowled over: CRIMES is a film that's as much of a work of conceptual performance art as Saul's and Caprice's in the (generally lacking) narrative. Pieces - no pun intended - work, sometimes as moments of deep, dark beauty (note: Howard Shore's score is incredible), sometimes as apex bits of Cronenbergian body horror, but it never quite felt like it became, as each new organ in the film, a system of its own. Nonetheless, one that's going to stick with me – for reasons that I've yet to fully comprehend.

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Seems that I'm forgetting all that came before in this MainFictionThing in favor of the (very) blank slate of this new iteration which (I choose to believe) bodes well for the new iteration (?) though perhaps the well boding is that it opens up something in the previous version that I hadn't seen. Either way works, so long as the feels feel right, vibes and rhythms et al. Central question: does this surprise me?

Back into swing of movie viewing: depending on mood when the afternoon arrives, might start MAESTRO, KILLING OF A SACRED DEER, or THE PIGEON TUNNEL today. Or something totally different. Who knows which iteration will show up postprandial?

All I know is that I long to be as excited for something as Kotaro and Hana the sea otters are for their salmon.

PRISONERS (Denis Villeneuve, 2013)

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Considering PRISONERS the centerpiece of an unofficial pre-Taylor Sheridan blue-collar crime film trilogy circa 2012-13, Scott Cooper's OUT OF THE FURNACE and Andrew Dominik's KILLING THEM SOFTLY being the other two: bleak, brutal, unflinching, and breathtakingly beautiful (thank you Roger Deakins and Jóhann Jóhannson (RIP) – what a marriage of visual and music) in all of its bleak and unflinching brutality (emotional and physical), PRISONERS is one of the best studies of loss and the consequences of rage at one's own impotence I've seen.

Three career-best performances: Hugh Jackman (2019's BAD EDUCATION notwithstanding); Jake Gyllenhaal (my appreciation for and and recognition of my under-appreciation of his talent – though Dan Gilroy's NIGHTCRAWLER remains my favorite Gyllenhaal role – grew here by leaps and bounds; and Melissa Leo, which is saying something considering almost every performance from her could be considered a career-best.

Why, exactly, it took me more than 10 years to get around to seeing this masterwork is, like most things, beyond me. Duly added to the "procure blu / add to library pronto" list.

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Rewrites from, if not the ground, then at least the mudroom, up continue: only way I know how to make it so I don't know what happens until it happens – which is far more essential to me than I realized. At least if this fails, I have the backup of the original version pretty much done: considering this an exploration of choices not taken.

Beyond ready for this estate stuff to be done. Preferred being the executor, as I was with my mother's estate – at least then I didn't have to herd any cats (except Pumpkin, but he was pretty easy to manage) – but the trade-off here is that settling this estate is a lot more involved than writing checks and filling out forms, so I'm glad it's someone else's job. Nonetheless, the flurry of activity punctuated by thumb-twiddling punctuated by flurry of activity, repeat repeat repeat schtick is getting really fucking old, today being one of those flurry days with another few weeks of thumb twiddling ahead.

Finished PRISONERS; postscript coming later today.