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I agree w nate that Inherent Vice is intentionally difficult, but i really love everything about it.
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Jorge wrote:
I remember I was in Miami when it happened. I was posting from the balcony of my apartment overlooking the beach. And I was having an argument with Adamdude.
Last edited by Malloy on Sat April 10, 2021 6:15 pm, edited 1 time in total.
the narrative arc of the movie, and in much of Pynchon, is like the feeling oedipa has in the beginning of Lot 49 when she arrives in San Narcisco.
“She drove into San Narcisco on a Sunday, in a rented Impala. Nothing was happening. She looked down a slope, needing to squint for the sunlight, onto a vast sprawl of houses which had grown up all together, like a well-tended crop, from the dull-brown earth; and she thought of the time she’d opened a transistor radio to replace a battery and seen her first printed circuit. The ordered swirl of houses and streets, from this high angle, sprang at her now with the same unexpected, astonishing clarity as the circuit card had. Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate. There’d seemed no limit to what the printed circuit could have told her (if she had tried to find out); so in her first minute of San Narcisco, a revelation also trembled just past the threshold of her understanding. Smog hung all round the horizon, the sun on the bright beige countryside was painful; she and the Chevy seemed park at the centre of an odd religious instant.”
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Jorge wrote:
I remember I was in Miami when it happened. I was posting from the balcony of my apartment overlooking the beach. And I was having an argument with Adamdude.
Inherent Vice is meant to be intentionally confusing I think, often to its detriment. But there's still a lot of great stuff in it. It's a really pretty movie to look at.
the narrative arc of the movie, and in much of Pynchon, is like the feeling oedipa has in the beginning of Lot 49 when she arrives in San Narcisco.
“She drove into San Narcisco on a Sunday, in a rented Impala. Nothing was happening. She looked down a slope, needing to squint for the sunlight, onto a vast sprawl of houses which had grown up all together, like a well-tended crop, from the dull-brown earth; and she thought of the time she’d opened a transistor radio to replace a battery and seen her first printed circuit. The ordered swirl of houses and streets, from this high angle, sprang at her now with the same unexpected, astonishing clarity as the circuit card had. Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate. There’d seemed no limit to what the printed circuit could have told her (if she had tried to find out); so in her first minute of San Narcisco, a revelation also trembled just past the threshold of her understanding. Smog hung all round the horizon, the sun on the bright beige countryside was painful; she and the Chevy seemed park at the centre of an odd religious instant.”
i read song of solomon a month or so back, and after finishing i searched here and the archive to see what rm had to say...i discovered a lovely battle between yourself and littlewing
what Pynchon and Anderson know in the 21st century, and what a serious doper who is pretty smart begins to intuit in 1970, is the extent to which the promise of the 60s has been corroded and commodified. for us it’s straightforwardly inevitable. for doc it’s a feeling clouded by lots of drugs. i love the narrative’s hazy paranoia and I especially love how this movie is filmed and lit
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Jorge wrote:
I remember I was in Miami when it happened. I was posting from the balcony of my apartment overlooking the beach. And I was having an argument with Adamdude.
the narrative arc of the movie, and in much of Pynchon, is like the feeling oedipa has in the beginning of Lot 49 when she arrives in San Narcisco.
“She drove into San Narcisco on a Sunday, in a rented Impala. Nothing was happening. She looked down a slope, needing to squint for the sunlight, onto a vast sprawl of houses which had grown up all together, like a well-tended crop, from the dull-brown earth; and she thought of the time she’d opened a transistor radio to replace a battery and seen her first printed circuit. The ordered swirl of houses and streets, from this high angle, sprang at her now with the same unexpected, astonishing clarity as the circuit card had. Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate. There’d seemed no limit to what the printed circuit could have told her (if she had tried to find out); so in her first minute of San Narcisco, a revelation also trembled just past the threshold of her understanding. Smog hung all round the horizon, the sun on the bright beige countryside was painful; she and the Chevy seemed park at the centre of an odd religious instant.”
i read song of solomon a month or so back, and after finishing i searched here and the archive to see what rm had to say...i discovered a lovely battle between yourself and littlewing
fuck. should have “we had the best time at your party’”ed those
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Jorge wrote:
I remember I was in Miami when it happened. I was posting from the balcony of my apartment overlooking the beach. And I was having an argument with Adamdude.
the narrative arc of the movie, and in much of Pynchon, is like the feeling oedipa has in the beginning of Lot 49 when she arrives in San Narcisco.
“She drove into San Narcisco on a Sunday, in a rented Impala. Nothing was happening. She looked down a slope, needing to squint for the sunlight, onto a vast sprawl of houses which had grown up all together, like a well-tended crop, from the dull-brown earth; and she thought of the time she’d opened a transistor radio to replace a battery and seen her first printed circuit. The ordered swirl of houses and streets, from this high angle, sprang at her now with the same unexpected, astonishing clarity as the circuit card had. Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate. There’d seemed no limit to what the printed circuit could have told her (if she had tried to find out); so in her first minute of San Narcisco, a revelation also trembled just past the threshold of her understanding. Smog hung all round the horizon, the sun on the bright beige countryside was painful; she and the Chevy seemed park at the centre of an odd religious instant.”
i read song of solomon a month or so back, and after finishing i searched here and the archive to see what rm had to say...i discovered a lovely battle between yourself and littlewing
fuck. should have “we had the best time at your party’”ed those
the narrative arc of the movie, and in much of Pynchon, is like the feeling oedipa has in the beginning of Lot 49 when she arrives in San Narcisco.
“She drove into San Narcisco on a Sunday, in a rented Impala. Nothing was happening. She looked down a slope, needing to squint for the sunlight, onto a vast sprawl of houses which had grown up all together, like a well-tended crop, from the dull-brown earth; and she thought of the time she’d opened a transistor radio to replace a battery and seen her first printed circuit. The ordered swirl of houses and streets, from this high angle, sprang at her now with the same unexpected, astonishing clarity as the circuit card had. Though she knew even less about radios than about Southern Californians, there were to both outward patterns a hieroglyphic sense of concealed meaning, of an intent to communicate. There’d seemed no limit to what the printed circuit could have told her (if she had tried to find out); so in her first minute of San Narcisco, a revelation also trembled just past the threshold of her understanding. Smog hung all round the horizon, the sun on the bright beige countryside was painful; she and the Chevy seemed park at the centre of an odd religious instant.”
i read song of solomon a month or so back, and after finishing i searched here and the archive to see what rm had to say...i discovered a lovely battle between yourself and littlewing
fuck. should have “we had the best time at your party’”ed those
ha...but why?
i suspect I’ll be embarrassed by what I wrote. I remember reading the novel, but I don’t remember what, if any, operative ideas about art were in my head then. I’m not sure if I had anything but feelings to counter little wing with. A dumber, less dope-addled sportello
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Jorge wrote:
I remember I was in Miami when it happened. I was posting from the balcony of my apartment overlooking the beach. And I was having an argument with Adamdude.
i don’t even know if difficult is the right word to describe IV. so much of its comedy is derived from the absurdity of these narrative dead-ends doc finds himself in. it’s a mistake, or futile, for doc to pursue them seriously. yet he does. why do we think anderson intends for the viewer to seriously pursue them? because the protagonist, a man who has tethered his identity to a historical moment that’s passed, does?
involution is the source of its narrative play and aesthetic pleasure.
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Jorge wrote:
I remember I was in Miami when it happened. I was posting from the balcony of my apartment overlooking the beach. And I was having an argument with Adamdude.
Did a Christopher Abbott double feature of Black Bear and Possessor (Uncut) which made for an interesting evening that I'm still recovering from.
Really loved Black Bear even though I'm still not completely sure how to interpret it.
Possessor was great as well. I'm guessing the uncut version upped the gore factor a bit? I normally don't mind a bit of gore, but I definitely had to look away a few times.
Joined: Wed January 02, 2013 6:02 am Posts: 9712 Location: Tristes Tropiques
I don't remember Possessor being THAT gory so I suspect you're right. I thought Black Bear was interesting but flawed, a little half baked on the concept side. Really enjoyed Possessor though
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VinylGuy wrote:
its really tiresome to see these ¨good guys¨ talking about any political stuff in tv while also being kinda funny and hip and cool....its just...please enough of this shit.
Watched Death Proof last night. Not entirely sure what took so long but it is the last Tarantino film I had to see. As I was watching I kept commenting that Tarantino really could do a solid, smart slasher film but I highly doubt painting himself in to that corner will be his swan song:
Quentin Tarantino wrote:
I realized I couldn't do a straight slasher film, because with the exception of women-in-prison films, there is no other genre quite as rigid. And if you break that up, you aren't really doing it anymore. It's inorganic, so I realized—let me take the structure of a slasher film and just do what I do. My version is going to be fucked up and disjointed, but it seemingly uses the structure of a slasher film, hopefully against you.
I think he misses the mark pretty egregiously, by trying to make it his own he dabbles in a little bit of this-n-that enough to completely take away from the final product. This really is nothing new for Tarantino but I was semi-hopeful, Russell also seemed incredibly under utilized.
_________________ absinthe makes the heart grow fonder...
Joined: Wed January 02, 2013 6:02 am Posts: 9712 Location: Tristes Tropiques
LetMeSleep wrote:
Juliet, Naked. It's a warning, folks. Sad musical obsessives.
Not a great movie but I enjoyed this one.
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VinylGuy wrote:
its really tiresome to see these ¨good guys¨ talking about any political stuff in tv while also being kinda funny and hip and cool....its just...please enough of this shit.
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