I spent
the better part of my evening eating cold pork n’ beans straight from the can
(whenever possible I try to eat everything straight from the can) and
reflecting upon my cinematically rich weekend (now more than a week old). To my left was a new box of Count Chocula
cereal and its dark visage tempted me with every passing moment. On the desk in front of me was a copy of
Vampirella Archives Volume 6 and the tempestuous supernatural avenger was
making my heart and manhood swell with heated love and fierce desire.
My
weekend began in earnest on Thursday evening as I hitchhiked down to the cinema
with a singular endgame in mind: to watch Shaun
the Sheep Movie.
And
here’s where we encounter a bizarre and dire sociological query: is it odd for
a grown man to go by his lonesome to watch a children’s film? It even sounds strange written out! But why?
Why must I persecuted for my love of claymation?! Why must I suffer the
mean looks from families as I ascend the stairs to my gilded seat? The movie itself was classic old school
silent comedy with the endearing characters we’ve come to know and expect from
Aardman Animations. Shaun, Timmy and
Bitzer are hugely necessary in these depressing times.
No more
than 24 hours passed and I found myself back at the multiplex to watch Joel
Edgerton’s directorial debut The Gift. I
will say upfront that certain plotpoints borrow heavily from Michael Haneke’s
2005 French flick Cache and Park
Chan-wook’s 2003 South Korean flick Oldboy
(and I guess Spike Lee’s 2013 American remake by default) and I would probably
recommend both of those over The Gift,
certainly Cache (though to be fair, Cache borrows heavily from David Lynch’s
1996 flick Lost Highway for certain
plot points and I would recommend that above any of the others) but this still
remains a taut and effective suburban thriller.
I was
back at the cinema on Saturday evening to watch none other than Josh Trank’s Fantastic Four. I feel critics and general internet grumps
are being far too harsh with this movie (I had similar sentiments about Terminator Genisys, maybe I’m just
losing my marbles!). It is a bad movie
to be sure but it is not some kind of abomination and it continues to liquefy
my brains that something like Thor: The
Dark World can get a pass but this is burned alive at the stake. I will deem it the title of an interesting
failure with the caveat that at least a fair amount of that interest comes from
all the behind the scenes drama and intrigue as much as the movie itself. I plan to purchase it on blu ray the day of
its release and watch it daily for a period of several months.
For the
past several days I’ve been listening nigh nonstop to Tamia’s new album Love Life. It is soulful and supple RnB and Tamia’s sexy
silky smooth voice is aural caramel.
This work seems to be about extolling the virtues of commitment and the
married life and the ways that comfort and devotion can lead to unexpected
pleasures. The songs feel heartfelt and
the instrumentation and production is often thrilling with Tamia’s lovely voice
always providing the necessary central thrust. It is a delightful late summer surprise and I
predict it shall be the soundtrack to many an evening at home or in my car
(where I feel safest of all).
I may be
in the cultural minority but I absolutely love the song All the Midnights in
the World, track 7 from Prince’s 2007 album Planet
Earth. I find it to be a very sweet
and charming little number and the lyrics super cute in that Princely way. Sometimes I listen to 59 times in a row on
repeat while dancing around my posh flat.
I also love its placement on the album as a nice preamble to the disco
funk scorcher Chelsea Rodgers (featuring Shelby J).
Those who
know me best know I despise Christmas albums almost as much as I despise my own
worthless existence. Yet I would be
lying through my coffee and nicotine stained teeth if I said I wasn’t happier
than a smelly pig rolling around in a steaming pile of horse shit to learn that
Australia’s favorite Kylie Minogue (that name has a hard g pronunciation which
I personally learned upon interviewing Kylie’s sister Danii Minogue during a 1995
press junket where we discussed her stint on the popular British show The Big Breakfast) is due to release a
Christmassy album later this year.
Kylie’s last 5 albums or so have been nothing short of perfection and I
have come to think of her as something of an unimpeachable force pure
shimmering pop bliss. Her music videos
often make me erupt into trembling ecstasy and this is an unexpected lusty
bonus. I plan to buy 9 copies of this
new album and listen to them simultaneously.
Of course
I’m also excited about Prince’s new album due out next month, less than a year
after the two albums he released last year for which he did next to no
promotion whatsoever despite having signed some deal with Warner Bros. which
would seem to necessitate some type of promotion for his new work! And I’m still waiting on those
remasters! Oh well. I love the man so much and I will always
salivate at the prospect of new tunes.
Lucha Underground recently ended its
long and beautiful first season with Mil Muertes, Catrina and their dark cadre
essentially in complete control of the temple and with several other juicy
cliffhangers. Stuff I love never lasts
so I will not be surprised if this does not return for a second season but I
feel confident in saying this must be the purest and most perfect wrestling
I’ve ever watched in my miserable life and it was all around a brilliant and
consistently thrilling program with interesting angles, exceptionally well
written rivalries, well developed characters on both sides and genuinely great
wrestling action. Thank you to El Rey
Network for putting it on! You brought a
little joy to my otherwise painful and wholly unfulfilling existence. I am also deeply in love with both Catrina
and Sexy Star and would love to go out for cheeseburgers and beer sometime,
perhaps the amusing house wine. Call
me.
I’m
eating .52 ounces of sweety powder with frutal flavors.
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