Some Came Running

The Monday Morning Foreign Region DVD Report...

...will be on hiatus for a few weeks. Some wind got knocked out of my sails last week, and today I'm off to Cannes, and after that there'll probably be some time off for me, just to recharge my batteries. But The Report shall return, despite it having been one of the least-commented-on features of my prior blog. (I complained about this to a pal once and he said, "Just because there aren't any comments doesn't mean it's not read," and I said "Yeah, but," and continued whining...)

In the meantime, a couple of domestic releases this week underscore one of the downsides of foreign-region disc-mongering/collecting: tomorrow sees perfectly acceptable and relatively cheap domestic discs of Minnelli's Some Came Running—a film I like so much, I named this blog for it!—and Anthony Mann's magisterial Man of the West (a magisterial screen cap from which is below), both of which I and I imagine quite a few other impatient mavens shelled out relatively big bucks for in foreign editions. Us movie nuts, we just can't wait sometimes. As I'm tightening my belt even as we speak, further purchases in this area are going to be quite a bit less impulsive.

But let's not talk about that now. Look what a great shot this is.

Godard wrote a terrific review of this picture for Cahiers du Cinema in 1959; it's one of those writings of his where the inspiration is indistinguishable from the loopiness, or the one actually is the other, always. (The review, titled "Supermann," is in the indispensable Godard on Godard.) "With Anthony Mann, each shot comprises both analysis and synthesis, or as Luc Moullet noted, both the instinctive and the premeditated." Think about it.

Scene From A Marriage

SCENE: Carroll Gardens, on an early spring afternoon.
CHARACTERS:
Glenn Kenny, hereafter referred to as "GK," recently deprived-of-steady-employment film critic.

His Lovely Wife Claire, hereafter referred to as "HLW," actress, administrative assistant, overall wonder of nature.

(As the couple stroll down Second Place, an SUV rolls by, blaring Thin Lizzy's '70s hit, "The Boys Are Back In Town.")

GK (nodding in nostalgic approval): Nice. Lizzy.

HLW: I always got them mixed up with Bachman-Turner Overdrive.

GK: Oh, no way. Totally different animal.
(unfortunately, he begins singing)
Friday night they'll be dressed to kill...
Down at Dino's Bar and Grill...
(ceases singing, furrows brow)
...because, as everybody knows, Ireland is replete with joints called "Dino's".
(resumes singing, alas)
drinks will flow and blood will spill,
and if the boys wanna fight you better let 'em...
(ceases singing again, thank the lord)
That part always bothered me. "Blood will spill." Okay, so blood will spill. But they follow it with "And if the boys wanna fight." When they say "blood will spill," don't you think that presupposes the boys are gonna fight to begin with?

HLW: Well, yeah, absolutely.

GK: It's like when the Butthole Surfers did that song "The Shah Sleeps in Lee Harvey's Grave." "There's a time to fuck and a time to crave, but the Shah sleeps in Lee Harvey's grave." I think when R.J. Smith reviewed it, he just said, "But?"

HLW: Well, in the case of this song, you know, it could just be that Dino, the proprietor of the aforementioned Bar and Grill, is a hemophiliac; hence, he's cutting himself all the time and getting blood everywhere as he goes about his business. And that's why, at his place, the blood will spill even before the boys decide whether or not they want to fight.

GK: I think you're on to something there.

(GK and HLW enter subway station, and, scene.)

New skill sets.

After setting up this blog in haste, and then setting aside the login details, and then freaking out all weekend in an attempt to figure them out/get them back, well, here I am. I imagine my ineptitude in this respect must have something to do with my having a "print mentality."

Ahem.

I'll be posting like mad shortly, as this blog will be one of possibly several outlets for which I'll be covering Cannes. The reorganization of staff at Premiere coming at this particular time put even more of a whammy on my head than it might have otherwise, but I thought I'd best get myself out there anyway. Stay in the game, as it were (Jeff Wells will be proud of me, I trust), although what I'd like more than anything at the moment is a bit of a rest. I'll give it to myself soon enough. But for now, keep watching.

First, though, I post to thank everyone who rang in with compliments, concern, and coverage in the wake of my termination. I felt a little like Tom Sawyer at his own funeral...except far more moved, and incredibly grateful. The comments thread on my penultimate post at the Premiere blog "In The Company of Glenn" (whose archives I hope to move here in the near future) not only brought tears to my eyes, it helped clarify some issues for my own self, and steel some resolve. And the kind words I've received in e-mails have also been more than encouraging. I'm particularly grateful for the concern evinced by a couple of people to whom I actually haven't been at all kind to in the polemic heat of the battling blogosphere. To say I'm blown away is an understatement. I only hope that in my lifetime I can be even half as gracious as these folks have been to me.

Here is a screen cap that's part of a project that would have been a massive pre-Cannes post but is gonna have to wait. Some of you might guess the film. And some might be able to guess the project, which as it happens pertains to a work of literature rather than celluloid. It'll get done. There's quite a bit left to be done.

Let's go.

As Steve Albini used to say.

Well. Aren't we all cozy here.

Over at the site known as "In the Company of Glenn," I was contemplating posting an entry that I would give the dual title of "Which Way Is Up?/A Delicate Balance." And then I realized: I'm under no obligation to do any such thing. I can just set up camp at my own blog, once I create it and title it.

Sure, I'll miss the title "In the Company of Glenn." It was moderately clever. And yet. "Some Came Running"...in a way, it has to do with my own heart a little more...

The above screen cap is, of course, Mr. Dean Martin in the immortal Minnelli film. The cap below, poor Michel Piccoli trying to emulate DIno in Godard's Contempt.

Consider this space the drunken boat we stand in, trying to pull either and/or both of these figures out of the water. Not to be loopy, or maudlin, or anything. Just a fancy way of saying...let's hang, my friends.