Though the clear nights continue (10 so far this session), circumstances beyond my control have caused me to pack it in till April. I managed to get out to my windmill site 7 times in March, filling many pages with successful observing observations. By now I am caught up on my sleep, practice is going well, our listening program is on again, and I am reading twice a day. And we are watching movies again. I am three behind in my reporting, and will also try to fit in a work of art from the DIA in this post.
My leaving March 31st choice was one of the best SF films from the 1950s. The Incredible Shrinking Man is from a story by Richard Matheson, which I have never read (yet). Several things make this a really great film, including the brilliant concept of a man shrinking away to nothingness. Matte work and special effects are really well done. The shrinking man has bad day after bad day, being harassed by the house cat, then by a monstrous spider, a flood, and he is unable to communicate any longer with normal sized people. Trapped in the basement for the last third of the movie, his eventual escape brings him solace and oneness in the universe, as the movie features one of the greatest endings of any film ever made. It has been a very large number of years since my last viewing of this fun film.
Deb had two choices next. First, from 2018, came a film by Peter Medak, called The Ghost of Peter Sellers. Back in the early 70s, Medak, after having made three successful pictures, failed miserably to bring a big budget film to completion up to studio standards. The abysmal failure caused his career to take a nosedive, and he remains bitter about his experience to this day. What happened? This is a documentary detailing his experience, and why the film failed to get any distribution. The main reason was its star, Peter Sellers, who did everything he could to sabotage the film from the get-go. A fascinating documentary, with lots of footage from the movie, and the making of the movie.
Her next choice was a 1928 film by Buster Keaton, called The Cameraman. Keaton is one of our favourite comedians, and he is up to his usual death defying exploits in this short film. It's a wonder he ever lived to old age. Some very funny scenes are always guaranteed in Buster's films. This one has a public bathing changing room scene that is priceless, a funny gag where he jumps on a speeding fire engine, thinking he is on route to a fire, and the closing scene where he thinks the cheering crowds are for him. Great escapist fun from start to finish.
In art news, it's finally time to look at a painting again from the DIA. Fire In A Haystack is a major work from the brush of Jules Breton, famous for his sensitive depictions of French peasants. This time we are faced with an action image of nearly cinema intensity. There are enough individual figures in the painting to remind us of Bruegel's peasant works, and this one does make a nice complement to the Institute's Peasant Wedding Dance. The Breton is also on a very large scale, making detailed observing fun. It is a painting that grabs viewers, like the Isabey Shipwreck we saw awhile back.
Collection Detroit Institute of Arts.
Signing off for now. It's time to listen to some Haydn, the to bed for some reading! Tomorrow is the only day of the week (until Sunday) that I can stay home all day, so I am greatly looking forward to it. It's a busy time all of a sudden. I will explain all next time. No vaccines for us yet.
Mapman Mike
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