fair-play

minunat gestul lui costin lazar. restul e praf.

prietena cuiva

soderbergh se pare ca a trecut la urmatorul nivel. de la 'sex, lies and videotape' a trecut la 'porn, fucking and DVD'.
s-ar putea ca unii dintre voi sa o stiti de undeva pe actrita principala. da, de acolo e...

motel & hotel

in 'nebunii in brooklyn' a lui paul auster sunt cateva pagini minunate despre un hotel imaginar, un hotel numit deloc simplu Existenta. un loc in care tb sa stii semnificatia unor cuvinte ca tovarasie, chiaroscuro sau destin sau sa stii sa te comporti cu stil in fata lui cary grant sau a ritei hayworth.

uneori e de ajuns si un mic motel.

secundele de glorie ale unei fetite in roz

patruzeci de secunde in care emotiile i-au fost la suprafata. love her.

sugar kane

eskimo women

nu inteleg panica ecologistilor ca se topesc ghetarii, ca o sa vina inundatiile, ca o sa fie caldura mare monser, ca vom purta doar pantaloni scurti, tricouri si sandale in loc de manusi, fulare, caciuli si paltoane sau ca vor disparea formatiile de heavy metal nordic si se vor inmulti formatiile ce vor presta un reggae simpatic.

de ce nu se gandesc ca poate eschimosii se mai satura si ei de frig? odata cu incalzirea globala, sansele ca o femeie eschimos sa intalneasca un negru carliontat din kenya care ii va incalzi piciorusele inghetate vor fi mult mai mari.

fellini & mozzarella

un baiat punk si o pianista vorbind despre luna, mozzarella si fellini.

jim & john

OPEN LETTER TO JOHN CASSAVETES

There’s a particular feeling I get when I’m about to see one of your films – an anticipation. It doesn’t matter if I’ve seen the film before or not (by now I think I’ve seen them all at least several times) I still get that feeling. I’m expecting something I seem to crave, a kind of cinematic enlightenment. As a film fan or as a filmmaker (there isn’t really a clear dividing line for me anymore) I’m anticipating a blast of inspiration. I want formal enlightenment. I need the secret consequences of a jump-cut to be revealed to me. I want to know how the rawness of the camera angles or the grain of the film material figures into the emotional equation. I want to learn about acting from the performances, about atmosphere from the light and locations. I’m ready, fully prepared to absorb “truth at twenty-four-frames-per-second.”

But the thing is this: as soon as the film begins, introduces its world to me, I’m lost. The expectation of that particular enlightenment evaporates. It leaves me there in the dark, alone. Human beings now inhabit that world inside the screen. They also seem lost, alone. I watch them. I observe every detail of their movements, their expressions, their reactions. I listen carefully to what each one is saying, to the frayed edges of someone’s tone of voice, the concealed mischief in the rhythm of another’s speech. I’m no longer thinking about acting. I’m oblivious to “dialogue.” I’ve forgotten the camera.

The enlightenment I anticipated from you is being replaced by another. This one doesn’t invite analysis or dissection, only observation and intuition. Instead of insights into, say, the construction of a scene, I’m becoming enlightened by the sly nuances of human nature.

Your films are about love, about trust and mistrust, about isolation, joy, sadness, ecstasy and stupidity. They’re about restlessness, drunkenness, resilience and lust, about humor, stubbornness, miscommunication and fear.

But mostly they’re about love and they take one to a far deeper place than any study of “narrative form.” Yeah, you are a great filmmaker, one of my favorites. But what your films illuminate most poignantly is that celluloid is one thing and the beauty, strangeness and complexity of human experience is another.

John Cassavetes, my hat is off to you. I’m holding it over my heart.
--

Jim Jarmusch, 9/2000

split screen

Split-Screen

The blond girl in my bathroom
wearing leather underwear
is cutting her hair shorter

in hopes of giving it the appearance
of being longer.
This reminds me of the Hungarian

who moves to Los Angeles,
forgets how to speak Hungarian,
and never learns a word of English.

jim jarmusch

nelamurire

un amic bun de-al meu are o mare nelamurire. ce-o fi fost in mintea lui godard?

"bai....in locul lu Godard imi bagam ceva in film si plecam cu ea pe insula undeva...sa nu ne stie nimeni"

clientii nefericirii

personajele din filmele lui bela tarr par a a avea abonament permanent pe o linie de tramvai ce nu duce nicaieri. dar e un tramvai ce merge in ritm de pasi de dans. incet si delicat.

cioburi si istericale

cum maine e o zi deosebita, ar fi pacat sa nu o sarbatorim cum se cuvine. puteti sa spargeti vazele cu flori (ca oricum veti primi sau oferi altele), sa va faceti praf, sa va incaierati cu strainii sau cu iubitii/iubitele si eventual sa trageti si cu pusca. sa dansam!

The Book!

de la corrections incoace, nici o carte nu m-a bulversat ca revolutionary road-ul lui richard yates. e atat de buna incat la sfarsitul ei nu poti respira.



Thanks C. :)