I was exhausted when I got home yesterday, with a few aches from the almost-fight. Why I should ache I dunno; my would-be killer never even hit me, and all I did was push him to the ground, but I guess it used muscles I don't usually use, which is most of them.
Anyway, soon as I walked into my room I stripped, crawled under the binkies, and fell asleep by 9:00.
And at two minutes past midnight, the dog started barking at shadows, and I was very awake. An hour later I was still very awake, and despite counting thousands of sheep and trying to hyperventilate, I am wide awake at 1:30 in the morning, full of thoughts about Sarah-Katherine and long-lost family, money and violence, and the whole sorry mess that is my life.♦ ♦ ♦
After a lousy day selling fish on too little sleep and a belly full of coffee, I met my pal Josh on the Ave, and we drove into San Francisco for a triple feature at the Roxie. One of the movies was good but sad, one was not so good and kinda frustrating, and the third was an astoundingly pretentious ode to astounding pretentiousness.
Who Killed Pasolini? ruminates on the death of filmmaker Pier Paolo Pasolini, a murder that was covered up, perhaps even plotted by his country's right-wing monsters. He was bludgeoned to death, and the police didn't even investigate. All the obvious evidence of a conspiracy or hit was ignored.
Why? Because Pasolini was gay, a pinko and a poet. "Just another dead faggot," says the cop in charge. The few police who cared about the case were quickly transferred to other assignments, and the killers were never apprehended.
The film shows the authorities' open and obvious disdain for justice, and I hope it'll
pressure someone into giving a damn, but it seems unlikely. The people
who'd have to give a damn are, probably, the people who killed him.
Minor complaint: Who Killed Pasolini? includes a violin score designed to tweak tears, but it's maudlin, irritating, manipulative, and unnecessary. The facts of a murder plus getting away with murder are sad enough. Lose the frickin' fiddles.
And then the second feature...
Orson Welles: The One-Man Band
is a study of the famous filmmaker's grand dreams and failures, made up
mostly of clips from several Welles projects that were never finished,
due to lack of funding, tax troubles, studio interference, and his own
touch-and-go enthusiasm.
The film shows Welles in costume as Captain Ahab in his version of Moby Dick, another of his many movies that never were. The film's symbolism, then, is that Welles was Ahab, and all his unfinished projects were the whale, or maybe that he was a whale of a talent, but adrift for years and then lost forever. Something like that.
Mid-size complaint: In a documentary fueled by film clips, not a single moment from Citizen Kane or The Magnificent Ambersons? Mr Welles was forced to kowtow to lessors all his life, and toward the end he was reduced to making basically home movies and commercials for wine and whiskey, but he did complete a film once in a while, and they're among the best movies ever made. A biography so preoccupied with his failures seems like a cheap shot.
And then the third feature. Oh. My. Golly.
As soon as the lights dimmed for Nico Icon,
I began to frown. I had never heard of Nico until this documentary
about her, and if you're as happily ignorant of her as I was, I'll tip
you off: She was a model in the 1950s, then a singer with the Velvet
Underground, and later a solo singer on the nightclub circuit.
What caused my frown is that she was a singer who couldn't carry a tune! Her studio recordings may have been tinkered with until they were almost listenable, but the footage of Nico in concert sounds like an orchestra of dentists' drills, industrial accidents, and Yoko Ono, with a jackhammer keeping time.
My major complaint about the movie is that I saw it. The filmmakers are Nico's artistic equals.
We're constantly shown close-ups so up close that it's only someone's eyes and nose, or someone else's nose and mouth.
The film frequently slows to half-speed for no reason, with lots of stop-action freeze frames.
The camera is hand-held by a drunkard while everyone explains Nico's greatness.
Most annoying among many annoyances are the slow-fading intertitles — when someone's saying how simply mahvallous Nico was, a word or phrase from what they're saying is written on the screen, often before it's spoken. "She was like a goddess from Walhalla," someone says, while the word "Walhalla" fades in, blocks out everything else, then leisurely fades away.
Also, I think it's Valhalla, not Walhalla.
♦ ♦ ♦
Nico Icon gave me a throbbing headache, which only got worse as we left and Josh said he thought it was great. "I've always been a fan of Nico," he said. "I've got several of her albums, and her version of Jim Morrison's 'This Is the End' amazes me."
I must've stared at Josh for ten seconds before I could think of a reply. "Uh, I hated it," is all I came up with. We talked about Nico and Nico's movie on the way home, or rather, Josh talked. I was shell-shocked.
Everything 'amazing' or 'goddesslike' about Nico eludes me, and the movie sucked gas from a tank and swallowed.
From Pathetic Life #21
Sunday, February 11, 1996
This
is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago,
called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but
might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting
things, so parental guidance is advised.
I remember that review of, well, all three, but the Nico : Icon in particular. I'm in your camp, man, that woman could not carry a tune in a bucket.
ReplyDeleteArt is subjective, so the modern me won't say anything more about Nico. As a favor to Josh if he's out there, though, here's Nico's cover of "This Is the End".
DeleteI love Nico's music. It isn't for everyone but I often prefer music that way. I reserve my distaste for cheesemongers like Billy Joel, who makes me want to drive into pedestrians, or blatant asswipes like Kid Rock, Ted Nugent and the supremely untalented George Thorogood, who plays the exact same slide guitar solo in every song. And then there's Jim Croce. I had my mind blown when DJing a friend's wedding and the all-white crowd didn't move an inch for Motown but when my co-DJ put on "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" every white woman in attendance began doing a move that looked like hanging up the laundry.
ReplyDeleteI own all of Nico's albums either on CD or LP and listen to her quite often. She has a limited range, sure, but she's also a unique stylist and not like a zillion cookie cutter singers. Her version of Jackson Browne's "These Days" sounded terrific in The Royal Tenenbaums, along with Nick Drake's sumptuous "Fly" and "She Smiled Sweetly" by the Rolling Stones.
But I also enjoy Scott Walker who I've been informed has made some people physically ill. The Drift might be a bridge too far for most people but I find it great to drive to. I love music that brings me into another world. --Arden
I'd never heard of Scott Walker, until this morning, and now I've heard some Scott Walker. Like Nico, you love it and that's beautiful in itself. Different haemorrhagic strokes for different folks. My tastes are bland and I know it, in almost everything but politics. All cheers, though, no sneers.
Deletethat's totally fair. If you tuned into a little Scott Walker and it was The Drift, you heard him at one level of extreme. Look for a song called "Rhymes of Goodbye" for a gentler, kinder Walker. Well, here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuiPwBZwkxs
Delete--Arden
Scott Walker was a genius, one of my all time favorites. But yes, his later work (which I love) is wildly esoteric and deliberately difficult. His first four albums can be appreciated by anyone, though, and his lyrics are the most perverse and challenging this side of Serge Gainsbourg. many of his songs are like little movies, sweeping and operatic.
Deletehttps://youtu.be/unaZf2YHzGY
https://youtu.be/-v7_yUCxt_o
https://youtu.be/846yEBin_EM
https://youtu.be/Ezb3iiM9HU0
https://youtu.be/M7gMlpABItE
He was a big influence on Bowie, and on less well known bands, like Pulp.
Speaking of Pulp, here's one of the best songs of the 90s, lyrically:
https://youtu.be/yuTMWgOduFM
She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge
She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College
That's where I
Caught her eye
She told me that her dad was loaded
I said, in that case I'll have rum and Coca-Cola
She said fine
And then in thirty seconds time she said
I wanna live like common people
I wanna do whatever common people do
Wanna sleep with common people
I wanna sleep with common people
Like you
Oh what else could I do
I said I'll, I'll see what I can do
I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why
But I had to start it somewhere
So it started there
I said pretend you've got no money
She just laughed and said
Oh you're so funny
I said; yeah
I can't see anyone else smiling in here
Are you sure?
You wanna live like common people
You wanna see whatever common people see
Wanna sleep with common people
You wanna sleep with common people
Like me
But she didn't understand
She just smiled and held my hand
Rent a flat above a shop
Cut your hair and get a job
Smoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you'll never get it right
'Cause when you're laid in bed at night
Watching roaches climb the wall
If you called your dad he could stop it all, yeah
You'll never live like common people
You'll never do whatever common people do
You'll never fail like common people
You'll never watch your life slide out of view
And you dance and drink and screw
Because there's nothing else to do
Sing along with the common people
Sing along and it might just get you through
Laugh along with the common people
Laugh along even though they're really laughing at you
And the stupid things that you do
Because you think that poor is cool
Like a dog lying in a corner
They will bite you and never warn you
Look out, they'll tear your insides out
'Cause everybody hates a tourist
Especially one who thinks it's all such a laugh
Yeah and the chip stains and grease
Will come out in the bath
You will never understand
How it feels to live your life
With no meaning or control
And with nowhere left to go
You are amazed that they exist
And they burn so bright
Whilst you can only wonder why
Rent a flat above a shop
Cut your hair and get a job
Smoke some fags and play some pool
Pretend you never went to school
But still you'll never get it right
'Cause when you're laid in bed at night
Watching roaches climb the wall
If you called your dad he could stop it all
Yeah
Never live like common people
Never do what common people do
Never fail like common people
You'll never watch your life slide out of view
And then dance and drink and screw
Because there's nothing else to do
Wanna live with common people like you
Wanna live with common people like you
Wanna live with common people like you
Wanna live with common people like you
Wanna live with common people like you
Wanna live with common people like you
I wanna live with common people like you
Oh, la, la, la, la
Oh, la, la, la, la
Oh, la, la, la, la
Oh, la, la, la, la
Oh you
Hey, I like "The Rhymes of Goodbye." Sweet combination of music and lyrics, voice and performance. Thanks, Arden. Gent was old when he died, had a long and successful career, and I'd never heard of him.
Delete"Black Sheep Boy," too. "Hero of the War" goes into my forever medley. Thanks, Claude.
I must've missed "Common People" if/when it was a hit, but I somehow heard it a few years ago and love it.
So many geniuses I've never heard of, which is the state of being human on a planet of billions, but also a result of me being kinda isolated from the world and stuff. Please continue showing me the good stuff I've missed.
You may have come across Common People by the cover done by William Shatner. I enjoyed it. -- Arden
DeleteThat's probably right. I slightly remember his version, and I think that's what triggered my search for the real thing.
DeleteThe real thing is worth searching for.
I took her to a supermarket
I don't know why
But I had to start it somewhere
So it started there
I said pretend you've got no money
She just laughed and said
Oh you're so funny
I said; yeah
I can't see anyone else smiling in here
Are you sure?
That's subversion.