A Rose by Any Other Name

A pancake breakfast with good friends and a good two hours of reading a good book in the San Jose Municipal Rose Garden: Contentment!

I had only ever driven past this place at night, and then only received the impression that there was some kind of park on the other side of the iron fence. The roses are not yet in bloom, making it more a thorn garden than a rose garden for now, but it is still beautiful and well worth the visit. A perfect reading spot!

Marlene watches from the wall...

This is such a cool song. I heard it for (I think) the first time today, although it was released in 1985. How did I miss this? I wondered. Oh, because it was released in *London* and not in the US.

According to the chatter on the internet, this song may or may not be about Marlene Dietrich. But that is exactly who I thought of while hearing this.

Yeah. She watches me, too, Suzanne. She watches me, too.



Marlene on the Wall
~Suzanne Vega

Even if I am in love with you
All this to say, what's it to you
Observe the blood, the rose tattoo
Of the fingerprints on me from you

Other evidence has shown
That you and I are still alone
We skirt around the danger zone
And don't talk about it later

Marlene watches from the wall
Her mocking smile says it all
As she records the rise and fall
Of every soldier passing
But the only soldier now is me
I'm fighting things I cannot see
I think it's called my destiny
That I am changing
Marlene on the wall

Well, I walk to your house in the afternoon
By the butcher shop with the sawdust strewn
"Don't give away the goods too soon"
Is what she might have told me

And I tried so hard to resist
When you held me in your handsome fist
And reminded me of the night we kissed
And of why I should be leaving

Marlene watches from the wall
Her mocking smile says it all
As she records the rise and fall
Of every man who's been here
But the only one here now is me
I'm fighting things I cannot see
I think it's called my destiny
That I am changing, changing, changing, changing, changing

"If my life wasn't funny, it would just be true."

~Carrie Fisher, Wishful Drinking
Berkeley Rep, 8pm

Cinequest: The Call of Cthulhu

"In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

"That is not dead which can eternal lie,

And with strange aeons even death may die."

Based on H.P. Lovecraft's classic horror story and filmed as a silent picture as if the film were made when the story was written in 1927, The Call of Cthulhu is a work of creative genius. What makes it unique is the work itself: they just don't make film narratives like this anymore. Heck, they don't make book narratives like this anymore.

The plot moves forward with slow deliberation, as layer after layer of mystery is peeled away by a succession of characters, each of whom has his own story to tell. First is the Nephew, who is relating his tale to a man he has hired to destroy the research papers he has inherited from his Grand-Uncle. The narrative then turns to the Grand-Uncle's tale, who in turn relates the narratives of a young Boston man plagued by strange dreams, a Professor of Anthropology, a Police Inspector, and finally the Second Mate of a Norwegian ship. The narrative then returns to the Nephew who concludes by urging once again that the papers be destroyed.

What I found fascinating about this approach is that while most of our modern tale-telling retains a somewhat equal level of complexity--flashback, flash forward, reverse narratives, and so on--we, the audience, experience the events as they are happening. There is rarely a sense that someone is relating something that has already happened. Even when characters catch up to one another, we expect them to paraphrase or relate their adventures off screen: There is no need for us to witness it again for we have already seen it. There is a Show-and-Tell quality to old-style film making that is absent from the newer Show-Don't-Tell philosophy. And in response to this rapid, visual-based storytelling in film, books have also sped up their narratives and shifted to more image-based (rather than language-based) plots.

Another thing I found clever about their using the silent film format to tell this story is that we never hear anyone pronounce the nearly unpronounceable word "Cthulhu." I made it a point to listen to others' pronunciation when buying my ticket at the Box Office: we all mangled it. But perhaps that is a blessing. Perhaps pronouncing the name aright would summon the alien-beast-god from the pit.

Finally, I would like to close with a quote from Lovecraft's story, which was also used in the movie. It puts a finger, I think, on the horror we humans feel for too much enlightenment. I don't know if I entirely agree with it, but it certainly illuminates the tension we see between those who are pushing forward for scientific discovery and those who are recoiling from it.

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think,

is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents.

[...] some day the piecing together of disassociated knowledge will

open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein,

that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light

into the peace and safety of a new dark age."

~H.P. Lovecraft

Director Andrew Leman Producer Sean Branney, Andrew Leman Executive Producer Sean Branney, Andrew Leman Co-Producer Chris Lackey Writer Sean Branney Cinematographer David Robertson Editor David Robertson Cast Matt Foyer, David Mersault, Patrick O'Day Film Info 47min

Cinequest: The Substitute

The ominous "Ulla" -- Hide your chickens... er... and your children.

This film offers nothing new as far as it premise: The "my teacher is an alien" bit has been done--and overdone--for years now. But what it does offer is a fresh dollop of humor and a superb cast. The special effects aren't bad either.

Paprika Steen is perfect as the malevolent and sadistic "Ulla," the substitute teacher who turns up when the children's regular teacher falls ill suddenly from a case of salmonella poisoning (reference to salmonella becomes a subtle ongoing joke as certain inconvenient adults fall prey to this illness). The children know something is up from the first day; however, they are unable to convince their parents of this. There is a wonderful scene in which the kids and the parents are shouting at each other from across a room, the parents trying to be the voice of reason while the kids are trying to relay the reality of their situation. A truer representation of the generation gap was never seen.

Despite the efforts of the kids to expose her, Ulla always manages to stay one step ahead. After the children witness her consuming a live chicken in her gutted and unlivable house, they convince their parents to confront her once again. But of course, by the time they arrive, her house is neat and clean and perfectly presentable. Ulla uses tears and little jokes to completely disarm them. In one hilarious moment, she comes creeping out of the kitchen, growling, with big monster gloves on her hands. After their initial fright, the parents collapse into laughter, convinced once again of their children's overactive imaginations.

Jonas Wandschneider--reminiscent of a young Elijah Wood--is brilliant as Carl, a gloomy boy still trying to come to terms with his mother's recent death. His drive to expose his teacher as an alien intensifies when she starts dating his dad. Another hilarious moment results when he confronts her over dinner when his father leaves the room. "I know you're an alien," he challenges her. "You mean, like this?" she replies. Suddenly, her face erupts into dozens of tentacles that whip out across the table to roar in his face. Moments later, when his dad returns, Ulla is calmly sipping her wine while Carl is collapsed back in his chair, catatonic with shock.

The special effects are nicely done. There is never a sense that this is a low budget production, but neither do they rely on the effects to tell the story. The best bit is the arrival of Ulla's spaceship, a round silver ball which drops through the atmosphere like the ball of a pinball machine. The arrival of the spaceship is shown almost entirely from the point of view of a chicken out in a field, the only being to witness its arrival. Space invasion from the perspective of a chicken--I can't believe that has ever been done before. (I won't tell you what happens to the chicken--I'm sure you can guess).

The premise that the alien is here to discover why humans have love and empathy (the aliens only know war and hate) is a trifle heavy-handed, but it is kept to the background and doesn't interfere with the overall humor and suspense of the film.

Perhaps the best scene of all is when the children are being loaded onto the bus for their field trip. The parents think their kids are going to Paris, but the kids all know by now that Ulla is kidnapping them to her homeworld. The kids are all wailing and crying; some have to be dragged bodily onto the bus. One boy states, matter-of-factly, to his parents, "Once you realize you have sent your son to his death, you'll be sorry. You'll realize you were entirely reponsible. I feel sorry for you. Goodbye." Then he stalks onto the bus. The parents wave and smile, bewildered, as the bus pulls away, while the kids stare forlornly out the windows, glum faces pressed up against the glass. Just puts a whole new spin on the words "field trip," doesn't it.



Director Ole Bornedal Producer Michael Obel Executive Producer Michael Obel Writer Ole Bornedal, Henrik Prip Cinematographer Dan Laustsen Editor Thomas Krag Music Marco Beltrami Cast Paprika Steen, Ulrich Thomsen, Jonas Wandschneider, Sofie Gråbøl, Sonja Richter, Olivia Stenderup Garre Country Denmark Language Danish with English subtitles Film Info 93min Genre Sci-Fi

Life in the Bubble

True story.

This friend of a friend of a friend of mine was working at Disneyland in some kind of customer service capacity. And a lady, a visitor to the park, comes up to her and says,

"Do you think you could turn the wind down?"

Yes. That's what she said.

It gets better.

She went on to say, "Listen, I know you're not supposed to talk about the bubble, but I know it's there, so would you please just tell someone to turn down the wind? My mother is feeling chilled."

What universe does this lady live in? What bubble? Is Disneyland under glass? Did she pass through an airlock? Or is this an *invisible* bubble? Or possibly *magic*?

I know Walt would have a good laugh about this. I think I'll go visit his cryogenically frozen head and tell him all about it. I'm not supposed to talk about that, but since you know now you can come, too.

Cinequest: The Aerial

The sinister Dr. Y

Director Esteban Sapir has created a visual tour de force in The Aerial. This film quite simply blew me away both in story and style. It begins, like all good stories, like a fairy tale. A book is opened and the city stands up like a pop-up. The inhabitants of the city have been robbed of their voices. The story is told like a silent film, with subtitles appearing on the screen, but the characters have a unique ability to interact with them, gathering them in their hands or nudging them to one side. In the absence of sound, words take on a more physical aspect, and communication between people does so as well. The soundtrack is used well to this affect, also; for instance, when Mr. TV draws a question mark on the fogged up window of his car, we hear the screech of violins.

There are so many odd and delightful little moments it is impossible to recount them all, and really not necessary. This is a film to be experienced aurally as well as visually. And therein lies the irony: Sapir uses a visual medium to present a message about the power of words and the human voice. And while the conclusion is wholly satisfactory, there are still enough unanswered questions to leave one thinking about it for hours afterwards: Why is Mr. TV's chauffeur a rat? Why does the son of the Voice have no eyes? And why does Ana not give him the glasses meant to cure him? Why is the broadcasting equipment in the TV station shaped like a swastika, and the Aerial's like a Jewish Star of David? Who is the demented fairy (dancing in her glass bubble with a cap full of typewriter keys and a pacifier in her mouth) and what is her relationship to Mr. TV?

This is a brilliant, magical film. I hope I can find it on DVD one day, because it is worth seeing again.

Director Esteban Sapir Producer Jose Arnal Writer Esteban Sapir Cinematographer Cristian Cottet Editor Pablo Barbieri Carrera Music Leo Sujatovich Cast Valeria Bertuccelli, Alejandro Urdapilleta, Julieta Cardinali, Rafael Ferro, Florencia Raggi, Sol Moreno, Jonathan Sandor, Ricardo Merkin, Raul Hochman, Carlos Piñeyro Country Argentina Language Spanish w/ English subtitles Film Info 90min Genre Fantasy