Movies & books (what else could it show up in herrrre?)


Besides the marathon I’ve been forced into oblivion by my dearest person and soul-sister who made me occupy a very good free space of brain with the content of the 5 movies from a certain teen wizard whose saga I’d bravely resisted for years till this month, things have been good film-wise.


At the theatre itself, the best thing in a fucking long time to have passed over my view is the brilliant piece of art Mr. David Fincher created , also called Zodiac. Brilliant because Fisher finally let it go the egomaniacal massages which usually ended up in exaggeration of effects and techniques (in a not good way) in favor of a good story of not a serial killer, but how it was easy to be one back in the days. The (lack of) information and capacity to solve crimes was a bless to the ones who had murder or psycho tendencies. And at an era where CSI’s and Internet can spoils us to death, the film is a blast from the past from the last century and how me, 24, uhu, 25 years old, can barely remember how information used to be passed by before the use of this little machine I am writing in. I will also avoid talking about the lake scene, which almost two months after, it still gives me nightmares.


The dvd session of this post goes to a movie I finally have in my hands for good and that I tenderly will always love because of the film and the way I watched it for the first time. Back in 1999, I skipped Anglo classes and ended up at Cine Belas Artes (before it was HSBC).There, I could see the poster of a movie I’ve never heard of but with so many stars in it , it could make its own constellation. The Cusack siblings, Bill Murray, Tenacious D boys, Emily Watson, John Turturro, Vanessa Redgrave, a still unknown Paul Giamatti and Mrs.Sarandon on this title directed by her beloved, gorgeous, talented and 19 feet tall husband Tim Robbins. I couldn’t resist and at that delightful Wednesday afternoon (back when I was a lazy tramp who could afford wed-aft movie sessions) I had one of the best movie experiences a movie-goer can have. This little piece of Treasure throws so much information on your lap, about the 1928 great depression, socialism and America’s paranoia about the subject, how the filthy rich were and are filthy rich and have always destroyed art, how Orson Welles must have been the coolest man to be around ever and basically and mostly about how art is created. Slow paced and pulling the pieces as a jigsaw, only at the finalle you can feel what the movie is all about, and as the film alone couldn’t be a better light to the soul, at that particular session I was sharing the experience with maybe 13 or 14 other lucky bastards, we, out of blue, clapped and cheered and criedin the end ,because we felt like it. And re-watching it once again, I could vividly remember why this movie is so pure and so good. Cradle will rock. O poder vai dançar. Try to watch if you dare...


And since I know I am too emotional and melodramatic since sentence one, nothing better to melt it all down than say the latest book from my all-time favorite author is now finished. Since I am no sinner to badmouth my idols (so NEVER , EVER ask about my feeling over Eyes Wide Shut and Gangs of New York) , I gotta say the book is brilliant till the last 30 pages. I Know Chuck P. ain't good on tiding the knots and this happened before (Survivor and Diary mostly) but I see genius all over RANT. The central idea of gather all types of insect diseases and spread them around, the fucking Party Crashing concept that makes Fight Club so last year (and I swear I am trying to flag a car as I put my feet back in US) and even the totally absurd back to the future backwards theory (but still so much edgier and more imaginative than the already cliché one) are pure delight if you are initiate on Chuck Palahniuk’s books. And if you couldn’t understand two fucks about everything I’ve just said, fuck it. Because I am very fucking tired of saying to the entire humanity to catch it up and read this man, so my job is done.


Bye kiddos


Ps: now that I have a pretty cerebral organ part well functioning on things such as wands, dementors(sp??), Snape and nose less Ralph Fiennes, I warn that my blog is no longer free environment for loser HP fans and as my personal beotch Adriana reads the end of the saga (and she will be done till the end of this night) I will post in extremely large Font size the book spoilers about that horsie-lover Potter boy.