le plus en colère chien andalou dans le monde

So there's something wrong with Asians.


I mean what the crap dude.

I could go on at length about this but google up some of the crap the Japanese do one of these days, and then come tell me I'm wrong. It's not just the Japanese either. It's Asians across the board. I point you towards Oldboy, towards Curse of the Golden Flower. Korean and Chinese films respectively (South Korean, it's all good).

Before you go thinking I'm a racist know that some of my best friends are asian(ish).


See? I know an Asian person. Obviously I can't be racist.

To be fair most nations have their share of the truly tweaked. If you are one of the the few, the proud, the twisted who have actually sat through Eraserhead to witness David Lynch's mind and stomach rending climax you know Americans can really pour on the weird. And since we're talking about surrealist horror it would invoke the wrath of film snobs everywhere to not give a nod to An Andalusian Dog (or does having to mention it just insult the snob's intelligence?).

Personally I didn't find the short as disturbing as the images alone would suggest. While I wouldn't go as far as saying the choice in music gave things a comical tone, it certainly took the edge off the horror. Give this piece the unsettling mechanical score of Eraserhead and I think you'd have something equally terrifying and more than forty years ahead of it's time (non-linear narrative!?). I must admit the legendary opening scene still managed to give me shivers though.



Now unlike Lynch, Dali and Buñuel unequivocally state that their film defies interpretation of any kind. This is funny to me as David Lynch's work is completely freaking impenetrable. I particularly like how he gives "hints" to film meanings such as "We are like the spider. We weave our life and then move along in it. We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream. This is true for the entire universe". I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to. Seriously, I couldn't.

Despite what may appear to be complaints these are all amazing films. Check them all out if you haven't already. See if you spot the similarities I did (is that a reference to Un Chien Andalou in the prison sequence from Oldboy?). You'll thank yourself for it later.

Wine and Film

So I watched Qui êtes-vous, Polly Magoo? the other day.

Looking for something nonsensical, satirical, and altogether entertaining? Pick it up on netflix. I had my french new wave fix with a glass of Paringa Cabarnet Sauvignon which I'd recommend to you with great enthusiasm. Like film it's a great mash of things you'll love. Berry, chocolaty, nutty, with and oaky finish to remind you how much you wish you had a fireplace. It's also reasonably priced at 13.99 a bottle. Of course, Polly Magoo is the kind of film you name drop to impress your film snob friends, so maybe you'd like to go with something a little more ritzy. Dom Perignon is available for 199.99 a bottle over at wine.com. Go nuts. Douchebag.

Now I can see you going back to reread that paragraph (that's correct, I can see you). I did just recommend a wine to go with a movie. If you are like my movie watching partner in crime you've begun to scream and hurl things at the screen with righteous indignation. Wine does not go with movies! Wine goes with food! I would submit that wine and film are more alike then you realize.

Firstly, they are both made in California. You see? Already your objections are falling under my shock-and-awe worthy barrage of logic. I'm just getting started. Movies and wine both share the position of being something (the only things) worth getting out of bed in the morning for. Also, if you read this blog long enough you'll see I don't know anything about either of them. Enough similarities for you? I hope so because that's I'll I can think of.

Back to this movie. Qui êtes-vous, Polly Magoo? (Who Are You, Polly Magoo?) is a 1966 film by U.S. expatriate William Klein. In most movie capsules you'll see it described as a satire of the fashion industry in France, but there is so much more here. In true French New Wave fashion you'll see and emphasis on form over content. It's a product of a tumultuous time of experimentation and rebellion. You can almost see the new Hollywood being born out of the wreckage. The titular protagonist jumps from one scenario to another in stream-of-consciousness fashion. Each moment only vaguely related to the next but delicious in its own right (pay close attention to Prince Igor and Polly's animated time together, then tell me if you don't see a young Terry Gilliam watching in awe). I particularly liked how we switch from biting satire, to primal slapstick, to a sort of Wes Anderson-esque deadpan in the space of one movie. After watching check out the back stories of William Klein and lead actress Dorothy McGowan as they are fascinating in their own right and will make any repeat viewings that much more enjoyable.

This complex, twisted film is altogether awesome. A satire of fashion, yes, but Klein has reinvented the movie. He does not just create! He galvanizes! I am galvanized! (Just watch it already) It's hilarious then thought provoking then whimsical then just plain bizarre. I loved it. I think you will to.