(Polanski 1999) The Ninth Gate

06-08-20 VIEW (Polanski 1999) The Ninth GateI don’t under­stand what moti­vat­ed Polan­s­ki to make this mud­dled super­nat­ur­al thriller. It’s the sort of thing that works fine in a book, but makes a ter­ri­ble movie. You can sort of guess what is going on at the end, but doubt­less most of the audi­ence left the the­atres scratch­ing their heads. A pity, because John­ny Dep­p’s per­for­mance is, as usu­al, extreme­ly pro­fes­sion­al. He wrings as much out of the emo­tion­al­ly ambigu­ous char­ac­ter as he can. Most of us who love books would have been charmed to see an enter­tain­ing film in which rare book col­lec­tors and deal­ers are giv­en a fic­tion­al life involv­ing mur­der, intrigue, and hot sex, how­ev­er inac­cu­rate­ly the tech­ni­cal details of book col­lect­ing are pre­sent­ed. But this film does­n’t enter­tain. Half-way through, one becomes bored with the enig­mas, sens­ing, cor­rect­ly, that they will not lead to any inter­est­ing conclusion.

14735. (Peter D. Edward) Gorgon ― Paleontology, Obsession, and the Greatest Catastrophe in Earth’s History

Edward is a pale­on­tol­o­gist who did impor­tant work on the Per­mian Extinc­tion, a peri­od in Earth’s his­tory that seems to have under­gone a cat­a­stro­phe even more spec­tac­u­lar than the bet­ter known Cre­ta­ceous mete­or impact that turned the dinosaurs to toast. In the mass extinc­tions that took place 248 mil­lion years ago, nine­ty to nine­ty-five per­cent of marine species were elim­i­nated, and on land a com­plex pro­to-mam­malian fau­na was wiped out.Edward’s book con­tains only a sim­pli­fied sum­mary of the sci­ence. It’s pri­mar­ily auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal. He did most of his research in the Great Karoo region of South Africa, and his vis­its there coin­cided with dra­matic peri­ods in South Africa. He describes the total­i­tar­ian atmos­phere dur­ing the late Apartheid era, and then the chaot­ic one of the post-Apartheid era. This, and descrip­tion of the phys­i­cal and emo­tional chal­lenges of doing hard sci­ence in the field are the rea­son to read the book.

[If you want to learn more about the Per­mi­an Extinc­tion Event, a good place to start is the Hoop­er Vir­tual Nat­ural His­tory Muse­um, run by Carl­ton Uni­ver­sity, Ottawa. It’s a user-friend­ly site, geared to the gen­eral pub­lic. A sec­tion devot­ed to “Cre­ation­ism” makes no attempt to pussy­foot with the tide of igno­rance: it begins with a primer on the four­teen most com­mon log­i­cal fal­lac­ies of argu­ment, straight out of Aristotle]

Monday, August 14, 2006 — Good …Not Respectable

When Joseph Milo, an out-of-work con­duc­tor and pianist in Mon­tre­al, learned that his building’s door­man was an out-of-work cel­list, and that his piz­za was deliv­ered by an out-of-work bas­soon­ist, he had an inspired idea. Mon­tre­al is full of immi­grant musi­cians who have knocked at the doors of the gold-plat­ed and respectable insti­tu­tions, and got­ten nowhere. Are they down-and-out because they are poor musi­cians? Or just because our soci­ety is too dumb to employ their tal­ents? The evi­dence of my ears points to the lat­ter. Now the Mon­tre­al Musi­cians of the World Sym­pho­ny Orches­traplays in the base­ment of Côte St-Luc munic­i­pal build­ing. It’s not the Mon­tre­al Symphony’s hun­dred-mil­lion-dol­lar venue, but the music is good, and the blue-col­lar, blue-jeans audi­ence gets a good show. Sur­prise, sur­prise! — if good music is played at a log­i­cal price in an atmos­phere that isn’t ran­cid with pom­pos­i­ty, peo­ple flock to hear it.

Anoth­er small vic­to­ry in the end­less war we must fight against the scle­rot­ic forces of Respectability.

14734. (Robert Swindells) Brother in the Land

Writ­ten in 1984, when the Cold War was heat­ing up again, this is a nar­ra­tive of an Eng­lish teenager’s sur­vival after a nuclear war. Swindell attempts to con­vey the utter hope­less­ness of the sit­u­a­tion. Steeped in the British class sys­tem, he assumes that the rich and pow­er­ful would do every­thing to pro­tect them­selves. and sim­ply exter­mi­nate any­one incon­ve­nient to them. Per­haps this would have been true — I don’t know British soci­ety well enough to judge. The book gives a rea­son­ably accu­rate por­trayal of the effects of a nuclear war on an ordi­nary region (at least in terms of the sci­en­tific knowl­edge then avail­able). As per­sonal dra­ma, it is very effec­tive. Peo­ple who now imag­ine that the world is a new­ly ter­ri­fy­ing place, mere­ly because a hand­ful of ter­ror­ists can plant bombs in planes, have either for­got­ten, or are inca­pable of imag­in­ing, the kind of anx­i­ety peo­ple lived under dur­ing the peri­ods when the immi­nent incin­er­a­tion of the plan­et was some­thing to wor­ry about.

(Rapper 1944) The Adventures of Mark Twain

While this corny Hol­ly­wood biopic is high­ly inac­cu­rate, Fred­er­ick March is absolute­ly per­fect as Twain, able to play him equal­ly well as a young and an 06-08-09 VIEW (Rapper 1944) The Adventures of Mark Twainold man. The Max Stein­er score is one of his finest.

14730. (Karl E. Meyer) The Dust of Empire: The Race for Mastery in the Asian Heartland

Mey­er pro­vides a basic primer on the his­tory of Cen­tral Asia and the Cau­ca­sus. It’s a short vol­ume, so it can only suma­rize the com­plex­i­ties. Still, even a well-edu­cat­ed read­er is like­ly to know noth­ing about this large por­tion of the Earth. New­shounds usu­ally refer to the post-Sovi­et Cen­tral Asian republics as “the Stans”. Well, at least a flip­pant nick­name is more atten­tion than these places got before.

Despite its low pro­file in pub­lic dis­course, Cen­tral Asia has got­ten plen­ty of atten­tion from geopoliti­cal schemers and impe­r­ial pow­ers, invari­ably cre­at­ing dis­as­ters. Some­thing about the place gen­er­ates fan­tasies and delu­sions. And no coun­try is more prone to liv­ing in fan­tasy than the Unit­ed States, the lat­est impe­r­ial pow­er to decide it is going to bring enlight­en­ment to the land of the moun­tain war­rior clan and the pop­py. As Mey­er demon­strates, the delu­sional chat­ter com­ing from Wash­ing­ton is iden­ti­cal to that which emanat­ed from Britain and Romanov Rus­sia, and the Sovi­et Union when they began the same dis­as­trous projects, end­ing in defeat for them­selves and end­less mis­ery for the peo­ple of the region. Read more »

Monday, August 7, 2006 — Things We Can Do to Ensure Canada’s Future

Do every­thing pos­si­ble to make it cheap and easy for any­one under 25 to trav­el in Cana­da. Our present facil­i­ties for back­pack­ers and stu­dent trav­el­ers are woe­ful­ly inad­e­quate. Every young Kore­an, Eston­ian, or Peru­vian who back­packs across Cana­da at the age of 18, and has a good expe­ri­ence, is a future foun­tain­head of invest­ment, trade, pub­lic­i­ty and good­will for this coun­try. This is bread cast upon the waters that will come back five-fold after many days.

Equip a large num­ber of high schools across the coun­try to func­tion as youth trav­el hos­tels in the sum­mer hol­i­days. The tech­niques for oper­at­ing trav­el hos­tels are well estab­lished. It should be made pos­si­ble for any high school, uni­ver­si­ty, or com­mu­ni­ty col­lege stu­dent to stay overnight at a min­i­mal charge in any such hos­tel, any­where in the coun­try. Addi­tion­al trav­el hos­tels should be estab­lished in native reserves, nation­al parks, and in remote wilder­ness areas. Hope­ful­ly, the next gen­er­a­tion will actu­al­ly know our coun­try, and out­grow the pet­ty region­al squab­bling that embar­rass­es us before the rest of the world.

Make it extreme­ly easy for any stu­dent to spend a school term in any oth­er city in the coun­try. Read more »

(Briand 2002) La Turbulence des Fluides

06-08-11 VIEW (Briand 2002) La Turbulence des FluidesI rather like this attempt at a Shya­malanesque thriller by direc­tor Manon Briand. Unfor­tu­nate­ly, it’s way too slow-mov­ing to sat­is­fy a big audi­ence, and it telegraphs its end­ing. It focus­es on a seis­mol­o­gist, long exiled to Japan, who returns to the town of her birth, Baie-Comeau (on the remote North Shore coast of Que­bec) to inves­ti­gate some anom­alies. The town is haunt­ed by the death of a woman in a freak acci­dent, and is full of psy­cho­log­i­cal, as well as phys­i­cal anom­alies. While the film is weak as dra­ma, it is delight­ful visu­al­ly and sen­su­al­ly. Both the hero­ine, Alice Bradley (played by Pas­cales Buis­sière) and her jeal­ous les­bian friend (played by Julie Goyet) are extreme­ly beautiful. 

Thursday, August 3, 2006 — Hardships There the Hardest to Recall

Ear­li­er in the evening (Aug.2), the CBC Nation­al News cov­ered the very issues I dis­cussed in my last post­ing (Aug.1). I am very pleased, espe­cial­ly because the cam­era work from the ven­er­a­ble ice-break­er Louis Saint-Lau­rent was of fab­u­lous qual­i­ty. The polit­i­cal issues are com­plex. You can’t expect peo­ple to care about them unless they can visu­al­ize the vast, dan­ger­ous, and extra­or­di­nar­i­ly beau­ti­ful land that is at stake. 

Some­one has a poet­ic soul at the CBC. Nunavut is one of those places, like out­er space, that forces even the most phleg­mat­ic per­son to turn to poet­ry. Over a mag­nif­i­cent mon­tage of images from the Pas­sage, they played an old Cana­di­an folk by Stan Rogers:

Read more »

(Low 1988) Beavers

It may come as a sur­prise to film buffs, but Stephen Low’s 1988 doc­u­men­tary film about the life of a fam­i­ly of beavers in Alber­ta is the most suc­cess­ful Cana­di­an film of all time. With a bud­get of one mil­lion dol­lars, it grossed over 80 mil­lion play­ing in 230 IMAX the­atres. Low’s Mon­tre­al-based pro­duc­tion com­pa­ny has pro­duced most of the top IMAX for­mat films. His much more recent film, Vol­ca­noes of the Deep Sea, was not run in many U.S. the­atres because it con­tains ref­er­ences to Evo­lu­tion (yes, rub your eyes and gasp, but that is the lev­el of imbe­cil­i­ty that things have sunk to, there). Now, noth­ing could be more quin­tes­sen­tial­ly Cana­di­an than a doc­u­men­tary about Our Friend the Beaver ―we all had to endure them repeat­ed­ly in grade school. Beaver doc­u­men­taries are prob­a­bly the equiv­a­lent for Cana­da of the West­ern for Hol­ly­wood, and the samu­rai epic for Japan. But noth­ing pre­pared me for this. The film is bril­liant. It is pow­er­ful, emo­tion­al, mov­ing. It is inspir­ing. It is beau­ti­ful. The cin­e­matog­ra­phy is bril­liant. Some of the shots, if they had been devised by Kubrick or Felli­ni, would be stud­ied in film schools. The com­po­si­tion, colour, and edit­ing are superb. And the act­ing, by beavers who are appar­ent­ly pro­fes­sion­als trained at Strat­ford, is top-notch. The love scene, with young amorous beavers danc­ing in the moon­light, is among the most roman­tic ever filmed.

And it’s a doc­u­men­tary about beavers.

Hon­est. I kid you not.