World of Wondrium

The things that can appear on our home TV or computer screens go so far beyond the wildest dreams this blogger ever had as a fantasy loving child.  The whole idea of streaming, for one thing.  Sure, we could dream of having 500 channels or more.  But two or three good streaming channels are much preferable, since not only can a person choose what to watch and when (free of commercials), but how much at one time.  Our three main streaming channels are Criterion, Amazon, and Brit Box.  The first two have some amazing documentaries, and we have watched many of them.  Amazon is filled with series about art, for example.  

However, we have now added a fourth streaming channel to our lineup, one that is quite different from the other three, and one I had been hoping to find for some time.  Wondrium is also called The Great Courses, and for $99 we have access to a year of unlimited streaming courses, in virtually every subject under the sun.  Deb is currently watching a 'learn to speak German' course, while I am embarking on a 24 unit course on SF literature, called How Great SF Works. The lecturer is Gary Wolf.  He not only knows his business, but he is an engaging talker.  I have heard the first three lectures (fully illustrated as he talks), and am looking forward later today to #4.  He has already talked about two of the novels in the Rediscovery Series (M. Moorcock and Ward Moore), and the Blish series Cities in Flight.  Also lots of modern writers I am jotting down.  Most courses comes with an extensive guidebook in PDF format.  After this course, I will turn to our ever growing watch list, which includes more literature courses, as well as archeology and history ones.  A person could spend a fun life in an easy chair.

Like the February astronomy session, the March one is also turning out to be a total bust.  Clouds, rain, and even some snow have obliterated my hopes of resuming observations.  Though it may (or may not) be clear tonight, with temps dipping to around 18 F, I think I'll stay home.  We are enjoying one more February weekend of winter weather, just for the fun of it.  No astronomy nights means more reading nights.  As usual, lots of reading is taking place.

There is one fun movie to report here, as well as a few others worth watching.  The Witches is a five segment Italian film from 1967.  Though five directors each contributed a short film (Bolognini, De Sica, Pasolini, Rossi, and Visconti), the same actress gets a different starring role in each film.  Silvana Mangano is amazing in each role she takes on, from a famous and glamorous actress, to a deaf mute housewife, to a frustrated wife who wants some lifeand fun out of her overworked and tired husband (Clint Eastwood).  Each segment is very funny, my favourite ones being the first, called 'The Witch Burned Alive'; the one by Pasolini starring Toto (a true fairy tale); and the last one with Clint Eastwood.  Sadly, the film is leaving Criterion in a few days.  I would have enjoyed seeing it again.

The Witches, showing until March 31st on Criterion.  A very funny film in five segments, unconnected, by five directors. 

The Man In Grey from 1943, put Gainsborough Pictures and James Mason on the cinema map.  It's the best kind of soap opera melodrama, filmed in beautiful b & w.  Mason plays a cruel nobleman who marries a sweet girl, doing his best to make her unhappy in his gloomy mansion.  Cue the bad girl who has just the right personality for the guy, and stir the plot well.  I wonder how much popcorn was thrown at onscreen bad guy James Mason in his illustrious career.  Directed to perfection by Leslie Arliss, the movie was remade in similar form nearly endlessly by the studio, after this one became such a big hit.  It includes some of the worst blackface makeup ever shown on screen.

Now showing on Criterion. 

A pair of films directed by Joseph Mankiewicz were next, both in b & w.  House of Strangers is from 1949, starring Edward G Robinson as an older Italian father of four sons.  He has worked his way up from being a barber to owning his own bank.  Unfortunately for him, he doesn't keep very good books, and gets himself into a legal mess.  He is a bitter man, full of hate and anger, and his sons never seem to live up to his expectations.  He treats them poorly, all except one, who the story is really about.  A good tale, well presented, even if, as Deb says, it features so many Italian stereotypes it could almost become a parody.  Robinson is, as usual, great to watch.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Lastly came Dragonwyck, from 1949.  No dragons, but another huge mansion with Vincent Price this time in the James Mason role, and Gene Tierney as the sweet young thing who falls under his evil spell.  Luckily for everyone there is a good doctor on hand, young and handsome, who can stand up to the tyrannical and insane Price.  He has a great tower room inthe house, where he spends most of his time when at home.  So many gloomy mansions, so many sad stories.  Price has a younger daughter who Tierney looks after, but for some odd reason the little girl disappears from the story completely about halfway through.  Walter Huston has a plum minor role as a bible thumping farmer, father to Tierney.

Leaving Criterion March 31st.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

 

Spring Things

Spring usually means outside work.  This year, a lot of that was done for us by the town.  We have a storm drain/creek/river that cuts our backyard in half.  It can become a roaring torrent in heavy rain, or dry up completely in late August during a drought.  But the banks had become seriously overgrown in recent years, with trees, reeds, shrubs, etc.  Two workers hired by the town came through our yard a while back and cleared out much of the mess.  We have already paid many thousands of dollars ourselves to clear out fallen and dead trees, but this cleanup seems to have been covered by our tax dollars.  There is still one large tree, a poplar, on our property that needs to be taken down.

Closer to the house, we are getting new eaves troughs installed.  During heavy rain our current system is worse than useless.  We now have severely damaged front steps, and a sinkhole in the making in front of our garage.  A concrete specialist came out to have a look, and he will soon begin work on removing the old concrete staircase and installing a new one, as well as repairing the driveway where it is sinking, as well as giving us a new coat of cement on our vast and private front veranda.  We are excited to finally have this work done.  We still need some new windows, and an inside floor to have tiled.  But first the eaves and new cement.  With no travel happening the past two years, we have saved enough money to get some serious issues fixed.  Our two newest doors come in very handy during howling winter winds.  We will have spent about $25,000 on home improvements during the pandemic.

Our Ontario mask restrictions have evaporated, even as other countries which have done the same are now experiencing high levels of Covid.  As a local health employee said, Covid hasn't gone away, just our restrictions to help prevent it from spreading.  Of course masks are still required in hospital and nursing home settings, as well as a very few other places.  And as of April 1st, the border will be open to all vaccinated international travellers without having to provide a negative test.

With the family scanning project now mostly complete, I have turned my attention to our own travel slides.  I am currently transferring our Spain slides to computer from 1982.  We spent an entire summer in Madrid and Barcelona that year, and I shot mostly b & w film.  Then I will do the Copenhagen slides (two weeks spent there one summer), and then on to our three trips to Mexico City and its valley of archeological wonders.

I had a minor medical procedure done yesterday in hospital.  It was very quick, the entire process from parking lot back to the car taking exactly one hour, but once home I just chilled out all day.  I managed to read an entire 280 page novel.  Today everything is back to normal, with piano, exercise, map work, writing, and of course reading.  It is now astronomy season, so I will be hoping for a clear night or three this week and next.  Can't wait to get back into the deep, dark sky!  In further medical news, I had a cortisone injection in my shoulder last Friday, and it is helping to alleviate pain caused by a tear in my right rotator cuff, as well as some bursitis.  It was Deb's arthritis doctor I saw, by a weird coincidence.  I am now awaiting a physio appointment.

In film watching news, I chose a Dutch film called Miss Minoes, about a cat who suddenly turns into a young woman.  Despite its mostly Disney formula plot, the film has much humour and charm, as well as a host of cats that can act (Goddard would be happy about this).  I've often wondered what a cat that turned human would look like, and how they would act.  Now I know.  Lots of fun.

Miss Minoes is showing on Criterion until March 31st. 

The rooftop singing scene is very funny.

The movie features considerable nose rubbing.

Deb's regular weekend choice was All About Eve, a very funny and highly cynical look at backstage theatrical actors, specifically Bette Davis playing the juicy role of one very famous Margo Channing.  It is one of her best roles, and she plays it to the hilt.  Anne Baxter plays the seemingly innocent young fan who adores her, and her breathy charm and delivery of lines is perfect in every way.  With a great supporting cast and non stop witty dialogue, this is one of Hollywood's best productions about actors, writers, and directors.  Recommended.

 

Now showing on Criterion.

There is also young Marilyn Monroe in the cast, not shown.  Celeste Holm is beside Ann Baxter and Bette Davis. 

One of the books I am currently reading is a catalogue of American paintings from the DIA.  I usually study one painting each day.  A few days ago I came across this image of a painting I have seen many times and loved, and am now anxious to see once again.  Called Fifty Avenue At Twilight, it is an eye catching depiction of New York from 1910.  The buildings are all identified, and yet the image goes so much beyond depicting an actual scene from a big city.  It seems to capture a mood that we have experienced at twilight in several large cities, though my clearest memory of such would be from evening strolls in Mexico City many years ago.  It's a perfectly lovely painting that seems to get inside a mood that I love encountering.

5th Avenue at Twilight, ca 1910.  Birge Harrison, American, 1854-1929.  Oil on canvas; 30" x23".  Collection Detroit Institute of Arts. 

I will conclude with an image from Barcelona, showing Deb appearing on a balcony of La Sagrada Familia.  Back in 1982 you were allowed backstage, so to speak, and Deb went exploring.  She surprised us by appearing on the little balcony, calling down to us (my parents were with us at the time).

Deb on the balcony, Barcelona 1982. 

Until we meet again.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

Egypt and Beehives

It is sunny and heading towards 72 F today.  Soon bars will be crowded with people drinking green beer.  What fun.  Way back in 1976 on this day, I asked Deb to marry me.  I was in college and she was still in high school.  It seemed to work out okay, so far.

The word is out--testing at the border returning to Canada will be dropped April 1st.  Hopefully soon afterwards I will make my way over to Detroit for the day, the first time in over two years.  Deb is still unable to go.  If she leaves the country she can't visit her mom for two weeks.  Not much else planned for the near future.  A visit to Sudbury in May.  Hopefully some autumn hiking in NM.

Now on to the Egypt part of the blog title for today.  We finally finished watching Cleopatra, the 1963 Hollywood blockbuster film starring Elizabeth (Cleavage) Taylor, Richard Burton, and a whole bunch of other people.  Lots and lots of other people.  The opening scene of a Roman battlefield reminded me of similar scenes in Russia's War and Peace, which we saw several months ago.  Only the director here did not have the Russian army at his disposal.  There are many truly magnificent scenes, many of them shot in Rome and Egypt.  Cleopatra's lavish entrance into Rome has to be one of the highlights of movie making.  Beautiful set design, camera work, lighting, outstanding costumes, and a decent story make this a must see film.  It looked totally amazing on our 40" widescreen TV, but how much better it would look on a really big screen.

Following a jaw dropping Las Vegas show, Cleopatra arrives in Rome.

 

Now showing on Criterion, until March 31st.

Costumes and headgear were astounding, as were sets, lighting, etc. 

The film clocks in at four hours and eleven minutes, including Overture, Intermission, and musical epilogue.  Unfortunately the music was mostly bad Hollywood schmaltz.  The visuals made up for it.

Turning now to the beehives of the blog title, we arrive at a little Spanish film from 1973 called Spirit of the Beehive.  This truly wonderful movie concerns a small family living in a tiny village on the outskirts of Franco's last years.  Two sisters, ages about 6 and 8, attend a local showing of the 1931 Frankenstein movie in 1940s rural Spain.  The little one, Ana, becomes transfixed by the monster, especially after her sister tells her that it is possible to talk to him if she closes her eyes and whispers to him.  She leads her little sister to an abandoned farm building and water well where she says he lives.  The film is not easy to describe, as it really doesn't have much story.  What it does have is an insight into childhood rare in book or film, and a way of expressing emotion in a most subtle fashion.  The visuals are nothing less than haunting, and the acting by the children is perfectly directed.  This is one of Guillermo del Toro's favourite films, in his top three, and it's not hard to see many of his ideas coming from here.  We still have a ton of film extras to watch about this film, adding up to more minutes than the 98 minute film itself.  The film is unforgettable.

Spirit of the Beehive, on Criterion. 

Mom plays piano, in a Vermeer inspired shot.

Ana (left) and sister Isabel overlook an abandoned farm building and well, where the monster is said (by Isabel) to live.

And I'll finish with a few more early family slide scans.  The project is now complete, and soon I will move on to the slides of our earlier European journeys, and the earlier Valley of Mexico ones.  Still lots of work ahead.

Our front yard in Sudbury, looking towards the Copper cliff smokestacks of INCO.  Those bare mountains at the end of our street are now forested.  That mountain was also a local ski and toboggan hill.

 

  Me holding younger brother Stephen, alias the burrito boy.

Winters were endless in Sudbury (and still are).  We briefly lived in a different house, the upstairs of a duplex.  I had a ski hill in our backyard! 

Today also happens to be a full moon.  The party commences soon.

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

Countdown To Spring

We are enjoying another wintry weekend, with a bit of snow Friday and seriously cold temps today (high of 24 F).  But official Spring is only a week away.  The winter pictures will come off the walls, and up will go different ones.  We have already had a few very fine days, and our snowdrops have been blooming for a week or so now.  I may even start to go outdoors again next week, though mostly do begin yard cleanup and shrub trimming.  Though I do have an uphill mode on my treadmill, I would prefer to get back to Malden Hill once a week for some serious hill climbing.  Though there will be no spring hiking in New Mexico again this year, I am ever hopeful for early autumn, getting back to high country once again.  I have so many unfinished hiking projects there I would like to complete, including at least three mountain crest trails.  Two are half complete, while the third is a long one day journey.

I am currently reading my 6th book of 8 related to my Avon/Equinox project.  Once the 8 books are read I have what I call free reading for the remainder of the month.  The book I am now reading is a strange but satisfying mix of SF and fantasy, written by Jack Williamson in 1994.  I am halfway through its 349 pages, and so far so good.  There are flying unicorns, but also steam wagons, steam trains, and astronomy.  There have been good characters, and the plot so far is building solidly.  Go Jack!  He was still writing this stuff well into his 80s.  I can only hope I will still be doing similar activities during my 80s. 

Deb continues work on her latest film, about four animals running away from certain doom once they have outlived their usefulness to their human masters.  It should run under 10 minutes, and be a visual stunner.  In piano news, I continue work on my next program.  I will seek out lessons with Philip A. sometime after the 21st, before performing them for friends.  My first Valeria book is currently being translated into French, as I await any news from 3 English publishers (can take up to 6 months) where the e-manuscript was sent.

 I am still anxiously awaiting word on when testing will be dropped at the border to return to Canada.  I keep having dreams where I am in Detroit, having a great old time, and then suddenly realize that I have to find someplace to get a Co-vid test.  Of course they are all closed....

Turning to film watching news, Truffaut's Day For Night is one of his best and most accessible films.  He plays a film director dealing with the many problems encountered in such an enterprise.  No doubt these were all problems he really did encounter when making his many films.  Very enjoyable viewing.

Showing on Criterion until March 31st. 

I Was A Simple Man is a film a lot of people rave about, but it left me pretty cold.  Deb really liked it.  It is a film from Hawai'i from 2021, telling in flashback parts of the life an older man now dying.  While I liked the way the story was told, the character selected for the film turned me off to the production.  The photography is beautiful, the dialogue is mostly quiet and sensitive, and the people trying to cope with the man's death are mostly caring and concerned.  The man was a pool shark and heavy drinker, who fathered two kids.  His wife died young and it left him even emptier as a person than he was previously.  He passed off his kids to his sister-in-law, and never had anything much to do with them, despite an early closeness to his daughter.  He barely talks as an old man, refusing to tell doctors anything.  He continues to drink and smoke.  He is nearly a blank slate, and never really develops into any kind of human character.  The story itself goes nowhere, either.  But quiet dialogue, lush atmospheric music, and superb photography have a lot of people thinking that this is a really deep film.  He wasn't a simple man; he wasn't really a man at all.  He was someone who faced hardship and failed to come to terms with it, or with anything, in his long life.  To me a simple man is one who lives his life as best and as full as he is able, without self induced complications or unnecessary drama.  This person was simply flat line throughout his life, at least according to the movie.  Nothing to see here.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Next was a very entertaining film, as Guillermo Del Toro takes us on a one hour tour of his museum to pulp, horror, and SF collection, housed in an amazing building that he has customized down to the last detail.  Called Adventures In Movie Going, it's one of a series where Criterion film buff talks to different directors about film.  Del Toro talks about films that influenced him as he shows us around his palace of collectibles, a rare look inside a place that he uses for inspiration and research.  Eye popping stuff!

Next up was Ken Russell's Mahler.  Like most of his feature films, this one could have been quite good, if it had a lot less of Ken Russell and just a bit more Mahler.  Like his Tchaikovsky film seen earlier, we get the basic facts and highlights (and lowlights) of Mahler's life.  But we get a lot more, too, with some truly outrageous segments that are pretty embarrassing to watch.  The music of the composer is used liberally and quite well, showing viewers where some of his important influences came from.  It shows Alma's struggle with her own self, as she literally has to bury her hopes of becoming a composer, too.  Set in the Austrian Alps, and on board a train travelling through Austria, the film uses flashback to tell much of the story.  The flashbacks are always triggered by something happening on board the train, such as a town brass band playing at a station, or something Alma says to him.  Not essential viewing for Mahler fans, but likely more for Russell fans.

Now showing on Criterion. 

Lastly comes a strange little b & w western from 1958, called Terror In A Texas Town.  It stars Sterling Hayden as a Swedish man come to take over his aging father's homestead.  When he arrives in town, he finds that his father has been murdered, and an evil land baron (Sebastien Cabot) is out to claim the land, with the aid of a hired gunman.  The settlers and townsfolk are too scared to band together and stand up for their rights.  Only Hayden's character will stand up to the bullies.  The final showdown features the gunman with his pistols versus Hayden with a whale harpoon, facing off on main street.  Weird but strangely watchable.

Showing on Criterion until March 31st. 

We are currently in the early stages of watching Cleopatra, a 4+ hr studio extravaganza starring Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, and everyone else in Hollywood and beyond.

And, for your final entertainment, here are a few more pics from the family slide scanning project.

One of the first pictures I took with my first 35 mm camera, an Olympus.  Younger brother Stephen and unknown sidekick.  up till now I had used a Kodak Instamatic camera.

This four wheeler belonged to my female cousin.  I had a very fateful downhill ride on it one day. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

More Movies

It's not that I am unaware of world events and choose to ignore them.  This blog was created as more of a "what I am doing lately" thing, for family and close to friends to keeps tabs on Homestead happenings.  I have usually avoided political discourse here, and will continue to do so.  If I were to start a political crises blog, I fear I would be writing in it 24 hours per day. So I do keep up with world current events, but you will find very little of that here (so far).  Making it through four years of a Trump presidency without much commenting was a daunting task.  Watching the UK go through Brexit was another challenge for me to keep my mouth shut.  Now it is Putin's turn.  And on it goes.  Now, putting my rose coloured glasses back on....

I have been sending out my Valeria manuscript to more English publishers.  I have a very good chance of having it published in France, but the translating costs are huge.  I am having the first three chapters translated into French for submission, but I will await the English deadlines before committing to more translation costs.  The second volume is also ready to send out, if and when the first one gets published.  And the third is inside my head, waiting to come forth should the 2nd one get a green light.

In film watching news, I am a bit behind, and there have been some memorable ones lately.  One of the creepiest films we have ever the dubious pleasure of watching is called The Cremator.  It is a Czech film from 1967, directed by Juraj Herz.  It's about a man who works at a crematorium during Hitler's rise to power.  He is mad at the beginning, getting more insane as the film progresses.  He is possibly one of the scariest villains in film history.  And the picture is a dark comedy, so don't totally despair.  He likes to brag about his firm's gas furnace, which can reduce a body to ashes in 75 minutes.  He combs his hair a lot, using the same comb on dead bodies, and on his children.  He commits four murders, and tries for a fifth.  For his efforts he is rewarded by the Nazis, and given the task of making more efficient gas furnaces.  Yikes!  A horror film, indeed.

The Cremator, now showing on Criterion as part of its Czech New Wave Festival.

A still from The Cremator. 

Next up was Cronos, Del Toro's first film, from 1993.  It is a very unique film, though not entirely successful, mostly due to excessive violence.  At its heart it is a vampire tale.  An older man who runs a small antique shop gets his hand on a strange little metal device, in the shape of an insect.  When he winds it it suddenly clings to his hand, and sharp needles penetrate it, injecting him with a life prolonging formula, provided he supplements his diet with human blood.  A rich older man is after the device, having come across a text about it from the 1500s.  Ron Perlman plays his nephew and strong man.  This was the actor's first film with Del Toro, and he has some funny comments to make about him in one of the many extras that come with the film.  Definitely worth seeing, but I think that a great idea was virtually wasted here.  Be warned; there is a lot of blood, and some hilariously gross scenes (such as the first older man licking blood from the floor of a rest room).

Now showing on Criterion.

 Next came Fassbinder's 1979 film, called The Third Generation.  Starring his usual cast of actors and actresses, the director takes on home grown terrorism in this darkly funny tale about a group of misfits who band together to try and create mayhem on the streets.  We are never told why, and I doubt the group knows why.  They are completely ineffective.  However, there is an informer among them, who does his best to destroy the group.  The ending is quite good, as the film suddenly ends during the making of a ransom film of a kidnapped millionaire.  He is under the impression that this is part of his plan to boost business, and is not worried in the least.  The film had much trouble in Germany, but was successful elsewhere.  

Now showing on Criterion. 

As Spring finally arrives here in SW Ontario (though more snow is coming on Monday), it's time to take a look back at what real snow looks like.  These are more photos from my colour slides scanning project, and are from 1976, the final winter we spent in Sudbury.

February 1976, Sudbury.  Younger brother Steve, about to be put to work.

 

 Front of the house, standing in the driveway which needs some shovelling....

The driveway is clear, but not much else.

We built a fort!  Deb and I would be married in August of 1976, and leave home permanently. 

Enjoy your weather, whatever it might be!

Mapman Mike