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Showing posts from May, 2010

#193: Escape From The Island

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You can file this under “Movies I’m Glad They Never Made”. I’ve always been a huge Kiss fan. From the moment that I first heard Destroyer in 1977 through to, well, when Ace left really, I was always a fan, and I remained a big booster of the band throughout the 1980s. I still consider their second three studio albums – Destroyer, Rock ‘N Roll Over and Love Gun - to be masterpieces and I adore Dynasty and Unmasked. Hell, how can one not adore Unmasked, containing, as it does, some of Ace Frehley’s best tunes, in the form of Torpedo Girl, Two Sides Of The Coin and the brilliant Talk To Me. Ace never got better really. I couldn’t care when I discovered, later in life, that the audience noise on Alive and Alive II was overdubbed, or that Peter didn’t play drums on the latter two albums, or that Gene rarely played bass. Hell, only Paul played on Shandi, but it didn't matter.  It just proved to me that the heart of the band was always Paul Stanley and Ace Frehley. Once they split that

#192: Movie Star

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I was overjoyed recently when I stumbled across these lobby cards for Death Of A Gunfighter . Not just because it’s one of those movies that virtually nobody you’ve ever met has seen, nope. Not because it’s a Richard Widmark movie, he, as an actor, doesn’t move me much and frankly the only thing of his I enjoyed was Madigan . Not even the presence of John Saxon, who I adored in Enter The Dragon , nope, what excited me about this movie was the name of the director, and who wasn’t credited. You see, Death Of A Gunfighter was the first ever Alan Smithee movie. With the working title of ‘ Patch ’ movie had been offered to director Don Siegel, who was rapidly becoming hot after a long and illustrious career, that had seen him direct possibly the best Elvis movie, along with Steve McQueen, Widmark and, most recently, the first of five collaborations with Clint Eastwood, a collaboration that placed them both on the movie making map as major players. Siegel passed on the movie and recom

#191: My Chemical Romance, Part I

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If you were to ask me right now how do I feel I’d reply, “Better than Gary Coleman.” A bad joke, to be sure, but hey, who gives a fuck? Lately things have been going along at a rapid pace in some ways, but sluggish in others – it’s hard to find that perfect equilibrium, a battle I’ve struggled with for a while now. I honestly thought that I was getting better, but recent events show that, clearly, I’m not. And that upsets me. I’ve had to cope with a lot lately, but, such is life. The past year has been hellish in parts. I’ve dealt with, and am still dealing with, the deaths of my father and a very close friend, being removed from probably the one job that I was perfectly suited for by a cretin and being punished by questioning it all. And there’s more, much more, that I tend not to share with anyone but keep very close. It’s gotten better in some ways, but worse in others. I’m dealing with being investigated for a number of frivolous allegations which I won’t go into detail here, suff

#190: As Time Goes By

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I don't know nearly enough about pre-World War II German cinema as I want to, or indeed should know.  In fact my knowledge kind of starts and stops with the silent era and then begins again with the Leni Riefenstahl propaganda films, such as Triumph Of The Will, which still has some of the most amazing visuals ever filmed, if you can get past the subject matter.  Still, Riefenstahl always denied that she knew of any crimes that the Nazis were doing, or any knowledge of any mass slaughter, this despite there being photographic evidence that she was present at a massacre at least once.  Still if there's one thing that old Nazis hate it's being called Nazis - just ask the Pope. I know most of the classic horror and science fiction films - Fritz Lang, a genuis and visionary, created two of the most stunning films of all time: Metropolis and M, both of which I saw at the Shedley movie club in 1983-1984, along with some of the most amazing movies of the first part of the 20th

#189: Part Time Love

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Or, if you work in professional circles, 0.5 Affection, with additional duties as directed (may, or may not, include oral satisfaction).  I kid you not.  I once went out with a female who took her work so seriously that she asked me what value I was going to add to the relationship and what was I willing to bring to the table.  I added no value and brought nothing, which is clearly why we split. That and she was a nut job of the highest order. Concert tickets aren’t what they once were, but let’s face it, what is what it once was? And if you can understand that question then you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din, and I bloody well wrote it. Gone are the days when the ticket was almost a work of art, now we get mass produced tickets that generally fade about two months after you’ve bought them. Poor ole Elton would be rolling in his grave if he saw the state of tickets now, that is if he were dead, which he isn’t, or at least wasn’t last time I looked. And Bowie! When we saw Bowi