K'vitsh

I went to Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy last night and largely had no idea what was going on.

It’s a very different film for this era, I think. Slow and talky, but not in the ways I usually enjoy.

Yet, I didn’t hate the film. I felt like I missed three prequels that would’ve helped me understand it. 

But it’s probably just me.

I’ve always thought it dumb and annoying when people claim not to like musicals because they are unrealistic. My friend Lada articulates why, and does so, well, articulately. (This comes from an email exchange brought on by an English newspaper columnist k’vetching about musicals on the CBC.)

It’s interesting that people who hate musicals or dismiss them as silly will invariably claim that they’re not natural or realistic because people don’t express themselves by bursting into song or dance. Except that they do. 

It always drove me crazy that according to the Library of Congress dance was classified as a social activity (whereas music and visual art were treated as arts, the entire letter M being dedicated to music). But there is some truth to this, and not just in obvious ritual or social settings like weddings. Maybe to a musically challenged Englishman it seems that singing and dancing are not part of ordinary life, except maybe at the karaoke bar or nightclub, but in many cultures they’re pervasive. In Spain, for example, during the great religious processions that take place during Lent bystanders will burst into improvised songs of lamentation. Sub-Saharan Africans dance under all sorts of circumstances. Even in Anglophone culture it’s not strange to see an athlete performing a celebratory dance in the end zone.

I remember Billy Crystal once making fun of West Side Story because growing up as a kid in New York he never saw dancing gangs on the streets, and Crystal’s parody of dancing hooligans was pretty funny. But the idea that musicals are bunk because ordinary people don’t sing or dance is false.

I thought Alice in Wonderland was delightful. Except for the breakdancing bit and the Avril Levigne song @ the end. Jesus.

I think Hoffman is one of the most romantic films ever made. #petersellers

Didn’t like The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus as much as I’d hoped. Still wish Heath Ledger wasn’t dead.

God, I can be a sentimental fuck. (Watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding).

I said I was taking these three days off from work, damn the consequences. I’m glad I did.

Today’s Family Day. My house is totally clean (thought not totally organized). God, it feels good. It had gotten rather disgusting.

I’ve paid my bills, sorted through most of my papers, exercised this morning, had blueberries for breakfast, and am almost finished my research for this week’s show.

Today’s plan is to write a letter, sort through the rest of my papers, read, meditate, maybe go for a walk, play my uke. Oh, I should make lunch for tomorrow, too.

I watched Factotum last night. Love the movie, but I watched the “making of” featurette, which was actually a mini-documentary on the director, Bent Hamer. I liked it better than the movie. He’s really sweet and delightful. I want to see Eggs. Not sure where I could rent it.

There’s a scene where Hamer goes to a bar where you can smoke cigars. There’s a Cuban band, he orders a congac and an espresso, lights a cigar, and just sits by himself.

Maybe I’ll go to a coffee shop today and write. Nah. It’s cold out and I have no desire to leave my apartment.