I feel like I’ve been going to the cinema a lot recently and I have no idea where I’m finding the time. It’s a mystery. Between haunting the shop and filling in for production every other evening at any one of five different, arctic studios, I have answers neither for myself or you, dear reader. What I do know is that it has been worth it and we are borderline perfect game in recent weeks, particularly in the way of strong female leads. Long may this rich vein reign.
I finally got around to seeing ‘Can You Ever Forgive Me?’ (directed by Marielle Heller; screenplay by Nicole Holofcener and Jeff Whitty) the other day at the Everyman on Baker St. Melissa McCarthy is really quite special and only a little bit like Sookie and that is a bit that I cannot fail to love. It’s a very human portrait of someone who would otherwise be quite incredibly unlikable which is probably true for most humans. I think most of us would be lying if we said the idea isn’t extremely tempting on a larcenous scale. The real question is just how fruitful a ground this shall be in twenty years? Forge my emails, mother fucker. I would be sleeping on the job if I didn’t mention Mr Grant: He has the stamina of a man half his age and his performance is - in the best possible of ways - predictably great and one that leaps all the way from giddy to grizzled. If possible, I think even more fondly of him than I did after reading his extremely precious letter to Barbara and my thumbs have gone weird.
‘Painted Ladies’ by James Wedge is one of those books that you hold like a relic. It elicits cooing noises from even the most stoney-faced of fashion photo aficionados and vanishes from shelves with stunning speed. I let my last copy go just before Christmas and regretted having to part ways. Now this one is warm within my winter cave. It is a delicate, brittle and beautiful thing and you know you want it. The process by which the black and white prints were recoloured by hand is supermoon impressive and the resulting images are stunning. It’s more than that though; it’s the paper and format and care that was taken over putting everything together. Watch this double in price over the next five years or so. If I’m wrong, I shall eat all my hats.
‘I Go To Sleep’ was a pretty great song by The Kinks. It’s what people call a “deep cut”. It then became a pretty great song by The Pretenders, followed at some point by a somewhat divisive version by Sia. More recently, it is a pretty great song by British [are we absolutely certain she’s not French and/or German?] singer-songwriter, Anika. Her version seems to grab the lilted piano from the Kinks, the louche of The Pretenders’ and some of the production quality of Sia’s? It’s been stuck in my head for a week or more now and most of this is probably just my very circuitous way of telling you to go and watch ‘Russian Doll’ on Nettphlicks. Right now.
It is a show that ticks multiple boxes on my internal application for obsession, the least of which being its soundtrack. Equally good are ‘Migas 2000’ by The Limiñanas and ‘Cop Killer’ by John Maus. Natasha Lyonne is both believable and hysterical as Nadia and you must take me at my word when I tell you that it does not go where you think it’s going to go. Can I promise you that you’ll be happy? Absolutely not.
But I can promise that you will not be alone.
JD - TACOCAT
[Props to IMDB for the thumbnail image.]