Tuesday, 15 June 2010

William Burroughs -Tangier Cut-Up (Esquire 09/64)

In these foreign suburbs here, a map of Tangier on a flaking plaster wall. I look from a photo layout to the map and drive pins in the map pointing location of the photos. The wall is grey and metallic under the plaster; electricity leaking into the walls the way it does in these old houses, you can get a shock from these pins. Look at the map. It won’t be there long. Departed have left no address. Your reporter selects a clipping from file labeled Daily Express, Saturday, April 23, 1964, (London): “This is America, New York, Friday: Research team spoke into a tape recorder which was playing through sound spectrograph. The machine converted words into pictures looking like contour lines on a relief map.” Relief map of old words and photos. They all went away. In 1929, year of the St. Louis tornado, when all the records went up, wasn’t nothing for it but to survey the county. They called in Old Arch to do the job and a heap of folk didn’t own what they thought after the Big Survey. Wasn’t a less liked man in Interzone than Old Arch standing there with the coldspring news. “The last carnival is being pulled down, buildings and stars laid flat for storage.” What’s in Tangier? Look at the map. Your reporter leafs through back numbers of the (now defunct) Tangier Gazette, Moroccan Courier, Minaret: “English Made Easy for Beginners, January 17, 1947. Today we are going to study the verb to fix. The general meaning of fix is to fit together or put in place, as I fixed the notice to The Board. Still another meaning is to set right or put in order. I fixed that up all right. Other meanings are to fix a date.” November 8, 1957: “Restaurant 1001 on Garibaldi Street reopened last week with a large cocktail party. Manager Brion Gysin is back. Among those present were Mr. & Mrs. James Skelton (it will be recalled that Mrs. Skelton is the former Mrs. Mary Cook of Seattle), veteran traveler David Edge, Mr. Peter Mayne author of The Narrow Smile, Mr. David Lamont, Hamri, the Moroccan painter, Mr. Martin, Mr. Jones, Monsieur Jean and Barnaby Bliss your reporter.” Friday May 31, 1957: “Explosions demolished the contraband ships Barra (English-owned under the British flag) and the Red Witch (Lituanian-owned under the Costa Rican flag) in Tangier port during the early hours of Monday, May 20. At approximately two a.m., the Barra blew up killing the Spanish watchman aboard. At three a.m., police and fireman over the scene, the Red Witch went sky high.” July 31, 1959: “Newest of the galaxy of bars to open is Top Hat on the Avenue España, decorated by George Jantus with Peter Lacey at the piano.” February 6, 1942: “One of the mysteries of Tangier Sergeant T. (for Terrence) Heming, Gibraltar Security Police aged thirty-one, death certificate at the British Consulate. Five other names with the same date. Explosion at the port February 6, 1942. Bomb in a mail sack? Mine against the quai? Dust and smoke, “The Man Who Never Was.” The cavity still exists: Stein’s British ultimatum of peace or war. To the sound of alarm bells English made easy: 1, 2, 3, 4. This is the fourth lesson. Look at the map? Sky full of holes flaking like plaster. Dead folks talk dim jerky far away now. August 25, 1955: “Charles Gallagher’s latest get together held at his new apartment on the top floor of the Old Flatiron Building had its moments of suspense. So strong was the crosswind from the open front door through the balcony that every time the door was opened to let somebody in or out the subsequent blast of air all but blew all the guests on the balcony over the retaining wall. A closed-door policy saved the guests. Those who risked their lives and had a lot of fun doing it were Mr. and Mrs. Paul Bowles, Rupert Croft-Cooke, Chris Waklyn, Bill Burroughs, Dave Wollman (your reporter) and Eric Gifford, who now works with the Gibraltar Broadcasting Service.” How many Tangier residents were listed in Who’s Who, February, 1958? Paul Bowles, composer and author, studied with Aaron Copeland and Virgil Thompson, composed music for Summer and Smoke. October 9, 1959: “That taxi that burned for a few minutes last Tuesday afternoon on Mohamed V.” April 8, 1955: “we know of one soul who was presented with an electric bill for $42. There had been an electric leak in this particular dwelling.” “Twas the rain-riddled late afternoon of December 13, 1955, at the Villa Mouniria Calle Cook. Author Bill Burroughs was writing a letter in his penthouse quarters. Suddenly a stream of men, some carrying guns, opened Burroughs’ door and looked in. The explanation is that the Villa Mouniria is for sale and these were guides for the ‘Black Bernous,’ none other than the ex-Sultan of Morocco Mohammed ben Arafa. Burroughs, the most politically neutral man in Africa, said: ‘Ben Arafa’ Quien es” January 21, 1955: “Madame Terefen Laila, clairvoyant, is now telling fortunes at the Rembrandt Hotel. . . .There’s a new policeman on Goya St.”

 

When the vuvuzela met Wikipedia...

Will Scientologists Declare War on Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master?

Best World Cup 2010 dive so far...


...and the winner is...
Daniele De Rossi (guess where he's coming from...)

Vuvuzela Instructions

Mickey & Goofy discover amphetamines...



Full comic
HERE
(Thanx Mind Hacks!)

The Last Director

Dennis Hopper

Dennis Hopper, 1936-2010. Portrait by Kris de Witte for Sight & Sound
After the success of ‘Easy Rider’, Dennis Hopper took to the Peruvian jungle to unlock the cinema’s own doors of perception in ‘The Last Movie’. Brad Stevens reconstructs the late actor-director’s raw findings
The success of Dennis Hopper’s The Last Movie (1971), his follow-up to Easy Rider (1969), can best be gauged by calculating the extent of its failure.
Apparently intended as a deliberate provocation, an anti-establishment ‘happening’ designed to kill off Hopper’s career as a commercially viable director, the film languished in distribution limbo after Universal refused to release it (despite, or perhaps because of, the fact that it won the Grand Prize at the Venice Film Festival). It turned up for a handful of UK screenings in the early 80s, made two appearances on Channel 4 later in the decade, then once again vanished into the marginal world of illicitly exchanged video recordings and illegal internet downloads.
I was among those Hopper fans who recorded the film off Channel 4, and watched it perhaps a dozen times over the next few years, becoming increasingly fascinated by its structural complexity. I’d not viewed it recently for a decade or more – but a few days ago, for no obvious reason, I started thinking about a sequence in which a shot of Hopper running through the street and collapsing on the ground is seen twice, from two different angles. And now comes the sad news that Hopper has passed away, occasioning a stream of tributes and obituaries in which The Last Movie is dismissed as a drug-fueled disaster: according to Ronald Bergan in The Guardian, “the film, made for the stoned by the stoned, was stoned by the critics.”
As the critical response to Abel Ferrara’s New Rose Hotel (1998) – which ends with 20 minutes of what seem to be randomly assembled flashbacks, continuing well beyond the point where the narrative has been resolved – confirms, any American film existing within the commercial field which attempts to interrogate the dominance of narrative codes is automatically regarded as the product of a miscalculation: surely Hopper and Ferrara were trying to tell straightforward stories, and somehow got it tragically wrong? When Europeans such as Godard or Resnais do this kind of thing, it’s assumed to be the result of a consciously intellectual approach; when Americans do it, it’s assumed they are taking too many drugs. We are all studio executives now.
The Last Movie
Dennis Hopper in The Last Movie
If there’s a theme running through the seven films directed by Dennis Hopper, it’s the clash between irreconcilable viewpoints and lifestyles: young and old, hippies and straights, punks and rockers, cops and criminals, artists and hitmen, and, increasingly in the later work, females and males. In The Last Movie, the ostensible opposition is between North America and Latin America.
The plot, insofar as it is comprehensible, has an American crew shooting a Western about Billy the Kid in a Peruvian village. Following their departure, a stuntman referred to only as ‘Kansas’ (Hopper) remains behind, and discovers that the villagers are reenacting the film-makers’ activities as if they were part of some elaborate ritual, with cameras and other equipment constructed from bamboo. Kansas is obliged to accept the role of Billy the Kid in this new ‘film’, but fears that the villagers will genuinely kill him when it comes time to ‘shoot’ the scene of Billy’s death.
What happens next is impossible to say, since Hopper allows The Last Movie to play itself out via a series of disconnected shots whose function is rendered obscure. The sequence I found myself remembering appears towards the end, as the narrative has started to break down (you can see it on YouTube), and begins with two shots of children playing on a hill, in the second of which the camera pans slowly away to focus on a landscape.
The next image shows Hopper running in slow motion past a crowd (which watches without reacting, like an audience at a play or film), then collapsing onto a patch of ground covered in what appears to be chalk; after lying in a crucifixion pose for 15 seconds, Hopper stands up and walks away, rubbing his hands to clean off the chalk as he does so. This is followed by a brief (four-second) image showing Hopper falling on the ground (perhaps a reverse angle of the previous image, though no chalk is visible), then a different take of Hopper running in slow motion, filmed from a slightly different angle and interrupted by some almost subliminal black frames on which the words ‘ripped’ and ‘torn’ are visible: once again, Hopper rubs his hands together to clean off the chalk after he stands up, an ‘authentic’ gesture made to appear self-consciously theatrical by repetition. We then return to previous shot of Hopper on the ground; this time, Hopper sits up and pulls a face at the camera, sticking out his tongue.
The next image shows the villagers’ bamboo film-making equipment, some of which is burning; the camera zooms in and out uncertainly, just managing to catch Hopper, who is moving around at the bottom left of the frame.
The Last Movie
A card with the words “scene missing” in black against a white background is inserted at this point, followed by a shot, introduced with a slate on which the title ‘The Last Movie’ and the name ‘D. Hopper’ are clearly visible, of a man sitting on a roof holding a gun; the man stands up, and the camera pans away to focus on some scaffolding, then pans back to show the man, who is clearly responding to offscreen direction, striking various poses with his gun. The sequence ends with a glimpse of the Western we had earlier seen being filmed.
What we have here is a remarkably sophisticated essay on cinematic images, on the ways in which an image’s meaning can be changed or redefined by context and editing – even by a refusal of editing, since it is clear that many of these shots were not intended to play in ‘unedited’ form. Our most basic assumptions about cinema are foregrounded and challenged: our assumption that, if two takes exist, only one will be used in the final cut; our assumption that those slates which appear at the start of each take will not appear in the actual film; our assumption that moments in which actors come out of character will be left on the cutting room floor; our assumption that the ‘scene missing’ cards used in a work-print will not be retained in the version shown in theatres. And, above all, our assumption that films which contain narratives (as opposed to abstract or experimental works) will resolve those narratives rather than abandon them at arbitrary points.
Yet what made this sequence lodge itself so deeply in my memory is surely its elegiac quality (underlined by the mournful John Buck Wilkin song Only When It Rains, used on the soundtrack): the sense that this deconstruction of traditional film-making practice is being undertaken more in grief than anger.
Perhaps the real conflict of irreconcilable viewpoints upon which The Last Movie was constructed is that between old and new Hollywood. But it is striking how Hopper’s film contains none of that gleeful joy in the destruction of conventions one finds in similar works by European film-makers, such as Jean-Luc Godard’s Le vent d’est (1970) or Marco Ferreri’s Touchez pas a la femme blanche (1974). Seen from this perspective, Hopper’s return to more traditional forms of storytelling in Colors (1988), Backtrack (1989), The Hot Spot (1990) and Chasers (1994) makes perfect sense. This child of the the studio system – who acted for Henry Hathaway, George Stevens and Nicholas Ray – may have been both that system’s greatest enemy and its most passionate champion.
Brad Stevens @'bfi'

For those w/ a short attention span...


(Thanx SJX!)

Italian Training

Claude VonStroke - FACT Mix 101 - (Nov 09)

    

How to dive and cheat


See youtube for a list of the original dives:
HERE

Monday, 14 June 2010

Memories...

  • Maria Wolonski wolon Mr Momus, due to soundtrack a film soon, waxes lyrical over the synthetic-orientalist music in the first porn film he saw http://imomus.com/

  • Mona Street exilestreet @wolon Remind Mr Momus that the Classic Grand in Glasgow was known to one and all as the Classic Gland back then!
  • A MUST READ...


    Director Sam Bozzo On  
    Bit Torrent and the Movie Industry
    Go 
    het Nederlands...  
    and the vuvuzela's were quiet for the anthems!
    I think they only piss you off if yr team is losing and for the first time in this game the tangerine and grey boots look OK...
    Another disappointing first half display tho!