May Books Read, and Annual Update

I commence my 9th year of reading works by Avon/Equinox SF Rediscovery Series writers.  I still have 5 writers on the list, though Silverberg is nearly done.  Malzberg and Moorcock have about a year to go, while E C Tubb and Kenneth Bulmer are still in for the long haul.  This past year I managed to add 60 books by the Avon authors to my list, which is now at a total of 829.  I doubt I'll make it to a thousand, but one never knows.  Books unrelated to the SF series equaled the series books for the very first time this year, as I also got through 60 books of free reading, many of them from the Delphi Classics series.  Added to the accumulative series total, I have now read 226 books unrelated to any particular project.  And total books read from June 2023 to end of May 2024 is 120.  That's a book every three days!

This month I finished the 'required' reading (5 books) and was on to freestyle by May 14th.  Only 5 of the 24 Equinox/Avon authors remain for me to finish up within the stable of SF writers, as well as dozens from the Delphi Classics series.

I am all out of Silverberg SF, so once again I had to resort to recent reprints (on Kindle) of his soft core porn crime novels.  The reality of trying to make a living as a professional writer in the 1960s is on full display in this 1965 novel The Killer, originally called Passion Killer.  For a decent SF writer to have to resort to writing this stuff is not only sad, but also not very surprising.  Its 156 pages contain a short story about a hired killer about to double cross the man who hired him to kill his wife, but in the end someone else also gets double crossed.  The actual story is about 40 pages long; the rest consists of people having sex nearly every which way.  And the top heavy females, who just love to have sex, consist of a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead.  Vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, the flavours of the 60s.  All bases covered.  The basic story is okay, similar to any number of crime story plots from period novels and or films.  The sex described in the book, which was probably sold under the counter in those days in certain types of book shops, is likely milder than found in most best sellers of today.  Some may call this progress.  I call it something else.   A must read for Silverberg and pulp fiction fans.  The rest of you may safely pass by.

 

Cover by Ernest Chiriaka.

 

Golden Scorpio is the final book in the exciting 4-part novel series dealing with the capture, destruction, and recapture of Vallia.  It is from 1978, and is 159 pages long.  Bulmer now writes as if he lives in this world, and it can be disconcerting, even to readers of the whole series so far, to hear him spouting so many invented foreign language words.  Kregan is a complicated planet, with many more kinds of people and animals than Earth.  There is a glossary provided, but it gets to be a pain to always have to go back and refer to some word or type of person or place or thing.  Other than that, this is turning into quite an epic effort of storytelling.  A TV series could run infinitely long based on these books, and I'm only at #18 of 52 volumes.  Bulmer has gone far beyond what E. R. Burroughs ever hoped to achieve.  But how is the writing?

Aside from so many strange words, and so many characters to keep track of (some disappear for volumes, then return), this story is one of the best in the series.  Essentially, Dray has to train an army from scratch, mainly made up of citizens who have been conquered and whose cities have been captured by enemy soldiers. The problem with Vallia is that it has always relied on mercenary soldiers to defend its borders.  But if the mercenaries are bought out by a higher bidder, they are no longer useful to Vallia, which is then left to itself.  So Dray begins training civilians, and it is quite a job.  The possible influences on Bulmer here are many, and he has masterfully taken from several sources.  Firstly, Roman warfare and how Roman troops were trained in such a disciplined manner.  Secondly, I see a strong influence from Kurosawa's epic film The Seven Samurai.  Then comes Tolkien's Battle of the Hornburg (but without the cavalry coming to the rescue).  And of course, Burroughs himself.  Bulmer outdoes himself in this book, and even manages to keep some sense of humour during the bloody and horrifying events.

Vallia is not out of the woods yet, however.  But with Dray now as Emperor, and the capital city and palace regained, things are certainly looking up.  What will happen in the next 34 books in this series?  Likely not even Bulmer knew at this point.  But if the quality of writing can be maintained, I will stick with it till the end.

 

From 1957 comes Cauldron of Violence, a 119 page western with events beginning in 1859, continuing through the Civil War, and then ending sometime afterwards.  The well written story focuses around Collin, who was 12 when Indians attacked his parents' homestead, killing them and his uncle, and burning down the house.  He managed to escape, and doesn't seem to exactly have a love affair with Indians afterwards.  He lives with a host family until he joins up with the union army during the war.  After being badly wounded in a successful attempt to blow up a southern railroad bridge, he recoups in hospital, wondering what lies next for him.  After the war he leads a small wagon train of settlers heading west, through dangerous Indian territory.  Most of the story describes this adventure.  Though not too far from the plot of The Gold Seekers, previously read, Collin is a very different character.  The wagon train encounters hostile Indians and must fight to the death until help arrives.  As is now expected in a Tubb western tale, the Indian side of things is told well, making the inevitable outcome seem like a foretold prophecy.  Another high quality tale from a pulp writing master.

 

There is only one true fantasy plot for a novel in that genre.  A really bad guy, who seems to have unlimited and endless evil powers, plans to take over the world/universe.  The good guy is helpless to stop him, and undergoes horrible ordeals, suffering mightily.  Until the last few pages of the book, when evil is defeated.  Tolkien did not invent this age-old plot; he just happened to write the best version of it, ever.  So anytime this plot is encountered (just open any fantasy novel), that writer is up against some mighty stiff competition.  In this case, Moorcock falls far short of writing a memorable and lasting work of fantasy fiction.

Michael Moorcock's The Dreamthief's Daughter is from 2001, and is 241 pages long.  I couldn't wait for it to end, never a good thing when reading a book.  The author tries a lot of new tricks.  Instead of one Elric, there's two (Elric and Ulrich).  It is revealed that he has a daughter, referring back to a much earlier and very fine Elric tale called "The Fortress of the Pearl."  His evil cousin is back, unfortunately.  One can quickly get very tired of this 'cousin', who has appeared in many Elric tales. And then there are the Nazis, on the rise.  Of course there would have to be Nazis.  And might as well throw in the Holy Grail.  He does.  And dragons over England, helping defeat the German air attack on London in 1940.

I know this is fantasy, and Elric, and all that.  But I found it very tiring reading.  A low point for me in the Elric saga.

 

The Engines of the Night is a collection of essays published in hardcover in 1982, lasting 199 pages. Most of these very short essays were published elsewhere around 1980.  Malzberg, as usual, tells it like it is (was), giving readers a good handle on what it was like to write SF in the 40s, 50s, and 60s.  There are some fun essays, and some very bitter ones.  Both kinds are very well written and required reading for fans of the history of the genre.  I have many favourites, among them being the chapter discussing Cornell Woolrich; two essays on the 50s; one called Science Fiction as Picasso; the obit essay for Mark Clifton; and a chapter giving Malzberg's choice of the ten best SF stories of all time (to 1980).  I'd only read read two of them!  A pretty amazing and wonderful collection of essays.  He has an updated collection of essays that I am greatly looking forward to reading.  The final essay in this collection, the longest, tells the tale of a typical pulp SF writer from the time.  Unforgettable.

 

After Malzberg, it was time to go freestyle.  I can read anything I want!  Sort of.  I really enjoy picking away at the Delphi Classics series, available on most type of e-readers.  For about $3 readers get the entire collection of writing from an author now out of copyright, and often out of print.  These are very well edited editions, too.  A most highly recommended series.  I now have about 50 authors in my library, and that includes thousands of novels, stories, novellas, poetry, plays, and original art work.  And I never have to decide whether to keep or discard a book, or give it away to charity.  I can keep it with me till I die!

First up was J. K. Bangs' first children's novel, Tiddledywink Tales.  Published in 1891, it is 161 pages of some wonderful but harmless prose and poetry for very young children, perhaps aged 4-7.  Filled with wit including riddles, jokes, funny poems and even a few jokes for adults (the book is meant to be read to children), it's 20 chapters each offer some special kind of delight.  I'll bet readers here didn't even know that tiddleywinks (today called tiddlywinks) could even talk, let alone crack jokes, have pageants, and entertain guests.  Obviously influenced by Alice In Wonderland (1865), it offers somewhat different pleasures.  It is probably closer to Wizard of Oz (1900) in its style of jokes and witticisms, though (as yet) is not nearly as adventurous.  These little stories are mostly forgotten today.

 

 

Next came a novella by J. M. Barrie.  It is called Better Dead, and is from 1888.  It was his first novel (-la), published at his own expense.  Later he tried to not have it republished, but it was anyway.  It is a darkly humoured look at the London Society For Doing Without.  Many readers manage to miss the black humour of the novel entirely, somehow.  A young Scotsman fresh from university and armed with good references, arrives in London to seek his fortune.  He is befriended by the president of a unique private society of men who murder other men.  If someone thinks that the world would be better off without a certain person, then he simply murders that person.  The young man observes such a killing, and becomes quite interested in joining the club.  He is given his probationary task of writing his thesis, and sets about righting perceived wrongs.  One of the funniest parts of the book has a leading female suffragette speaking to the club, demanding equality.  She believes they should be murdering women, too, not just men.  In the end, the young man is nearly undone by his enticingly visible neck, as well as the theses he presents to the club.  He believes everyone over 45 should be killed, including most members of the club, thus giving young people a chance to briefly shine.  His presentation does not go over well.  A brief but entertaining read.

Barrie's self published novella of 1888.

 

Arnold Bennett's Anna of the Five Towns was published in 1902.  Set in the Midlands region of England, the towns were the centre of pottery manufacturing.  Think of Hobbiton after Sharky had spent some time there.  Anna is 21, and lives with her father, the miser of town, and her 12 year old half sister Agnes.  Her father is rich, and upon Anna turning 21 she is given her inheritance from her deceased mother, amounting to about L50,000, a sizable fortune.  She also has investments which bring high annual returns.  Of course she is not allowed to spend any of it.  Her father is at least as rich, but is about the most miserly person ever met in literature.  He also has a wrathful temper, and continually browbeats Anna.  The dreariness of her life is relieved by a two week holiday on the Isle of Man.  She is invited by neighbours, who are able to convince her father to let her go.  Agnes is happy to keep house while she is gone.  During the trip she becomes engaged to a man she once liked, but she grows less fond of him every day.  A man in debt for his rent to her father (and now her, as she owns the property) becomes central to the story, as does his son, a simple boy whom Anna takes to her heart.  The great tragedy of their downfall becomes a symbol of what awaits Anna.  Married to a man she doesn't love, she performs her duties to him, as she once did to her father.

Yes, it is a grim story.  But it is so well told, and we get so many insights into what Anna is thinking, things she never shares with others, that her character becomes not only memorable, but unforgettable.  She is not a mousy woman, but she has lived under paternal tyranny and abject misery for so long that even being married to man she does not love or greatly respect is a giant step away from her father, albeit a sideways step.  Bennett is a wonderful writer, and hopefully still being read, somewhere.  Paternal tyranny and the woeful place of a woman at this time have never been more clearly illustrated.  A town is brought to life, and the characters perform their duties, in a way that seems drawn from experience and some deep thinking about female and male roles in society.  Highly recommended.

 

 

I have previously read two books of short ghost stories by Algernon Blackwood.  This time I retreated to his first novel, called Jimbo: A Fantasy.  From 1909 it is a tale of childhood, but it is not meant for children to read.  However, it could work if it was read to them.  Jimbo (James) is eight, and has an accident that renders him unconscious for several hours.  During this time he becomes trapped in another world, in a castle tower, a prisoner of Fear.  A former governess of James helps him prepare for an escape.  James grows wings over time, and learns to use them.  A true fantasy, and very much in the tradition of Iain Banks' The Bridge, from 1986, where an unconscious man (we don't know this until later) finds himself trapped on a mysterious bridge and tries to get off of it.  However, Bennett's tale is also a bit of a ghost story.  Fairly well done, and could form the basis of a terrific animated version of the story.

 

Five Go Adventuring Again, from 1943, is Enid Blyton's 2nd novel in her popular long running series featuring four kids and a dog.  Blyton hit on a winning formula, one that kids loved.  A secret hidden passage, an important formula stolen, a cryptic note, and some bad guys thrown in is repeated again and again in her stories.  They were so popular that she was not allowed to stop writing.  Some differences between this one and the first story include the fact that it is winter and Christmas holidays, rather than summer holidays, and that the entire story takes place on land.  Also, there is no treasure, just a stolen formula that must be retrieved.  While three of the children are your standard cardboard children, two older boys and their younger sister, George, their cousin, is a female with a difference.  She remains an interesting character, being not only rebellious to the extreme, but one who trusts her instincts, despite others not thinking she is very wise to do so.  Certain kids still might like to read the book today, though most now require certain amounts of magic and fantasy.  There is no magic in Blyton's book, but plenty of adventure.

 

 

Ernest Bramah's The Mirror of Kong Ho is a brilliant and very funny book from 1905.  Brahma was included in the Ballantine Adult Fantasy Series with two splendid novels.  Though this one is not a fantasy, it retains the same idioms of speech and the same intent of those tales.  Never has a clash of cultures been better brought to light than in these eleven letters that Kong Ho writes home to his Chinese father, detailing his experiences and misadventures during his visit to London.  Each chapter tackles several misunderstandings and their consequences based on cultural differences between England and China.  We learn how and why Kong Ho is kicked out of his rooming house.  Grim but hilarious.  Kong Ho visits a pub and causes a riot.  He thinks it is a temple of worship.  He plays cricket; he rides the Tube; he visits a country estate; two con men attempt to rob him.  Whatever it is he experiences, it all gets included in the truly hilarious letters home.  Not being British, I did not get all the jokes, but most of them sunk in just fine.  It's one of those books that will drive the person you live with mad, due to sudden outbursts of laughter, and the obligatory rereading aloud to them of passage after passage.  A wonderful book!

 

Warlord of Mars is Edgar Rice Burroughs 3rd Martian tale, published in 1918.  It's interesting to read this series in light of reading Kenneth Bulmer's similar Dray Prescott series.  While Bulmer takes the Martian tales of Burroughs as his base (as did Michael Moorcock in his Martian trilogy), his world is much more complex, and his lead character much more interesting.  Burroughs used many of the same writer's tricks over and over again, and they can become tiring after a time.  Having said that, Burroughs can write a good yarn with the best of them.  This book is a direct continuation of the 2nd Martian novel, as he begins his attempts to rescue Dejah Thoris, his wife and Princess of Mars.  We travel back to the root of the evil from Book 2, where the religion of the black men is stomped out and destroyed.  Of course the main bad guy gets away, kidnapping Dejah.  The chase is on.  It culminates in a huge battle at the North Pole.  Poor John Carter, the hero.  At one point he actually gets Dejah in his arms, but she is cruelly whisked away yet again as he battles for their lives against the yellow men (there are also green men and red men).  The book finishes up a series within the series, with all well that ends well.  Looking forward to new adventures next time.

 

An early cover from 1919, one of dozens since published.  

Art by J. Allen St. John.   

 

Lastly came a short book by Sir Richard Burton.  Falconry In The Valley Of The Indus is from 1852, one year after his first travel book, also set in India.  I have little interest in falconry, being a non-hunter.  And yet I was curious to learn something about it.  This short book told me just about everything I needed to know, so I can say with confidence that I am now versed in the ways of falconry.  Burton deals with the actual hunting part, of course, but also with the training of the various kinds of birds of prey that are/were used in the activity (I cannot call it "sport", as very little hunting has anything to do with sport).  However, the best of the book was a 10 or 11 page postscript by the author, dealing with English critics of his writing to date.  This is a very well written retort to the imbecile critics who had never set foot outside of England, and who could not imagine that any British person would behave ignobly towards natives of other lands.  A diverting book.

Mapman Mike

 

 

Back From Sudbury (Again)

The purpose of the trip was to see my Dad's ashes buried in the local cemetery.  Only 19 people were invited, plus a priest.  Afterwards there was to be a buffet luncheon nearby.  It was an extremely windy morning, and much female hair was blown about.  The service was short, and went well.  The only problem was that my brother did not want to bury the ashes.  Go figure.  So we went through this entire ceremony, two days of driving, inviting people over, and then taking the ashes back home.  My mother was not impressed, though at least my brother had asked her about it beforehand. 

Instead of driving all the way up in one day (it takes 8-9 hours depending on traffic), we took back roads much of the way, and drove only as far as Parry Sound, south of Sudbury.  Deb lived in this small tourist town for two years when she was a child.  We have not spent any time here in many years.  If you like lakes, trees, hiking, waterfalls, etc., then Parry Sound is a nearly ideal place to visit, especially in autumn.  Before reaching the Sound, we stopped at a meadery not too far from Amherstburg, to stock up on supplies.  The back road drive was so much nicer than taking the express highways.  Once we arrived in Parry Sound, we checked into our downtown motel and walked a trail to nearby Trestle Brewing Company for dinner and some refreshment.  Parry Sound has a famous, long, and very high train trestle.  Next morning we climbed a very high fire lookout tower, with views into Georgian Bay and the small town.  It was the beginning of the wind which would last for two days, including the cemetery visit.

 

Our first fun stop on the way.

 

An abandoned schoolhouse, deep in southern Ontario farming country.

 

The impressive train trestle in Parry Sound.

 

The Still River empties into Georgian Bay at Parry Sound.

 

View of the outdoor deck at Trestle Brewing, where we sat for our visit.

I bought a tee-shirt and 6 cans of ale.  We had dinner here, too.

View from the outdoor deck at Trestle Brewing Co.

 

Two views from the top of the fire tower in Parry Sound.

Great Lakes ships are able to enter the harbour from Georgian Bay.

The tower we climbed (and climbed) is in the upper background.

 

Abandoned home with lilacs.

 

Falls of the Wanup River, on our way to Sudbury next morning.

 

Part of the cemetery gathering.

Deb stands beside my two nieces, all three in black.

 

We drove back all in one go.  Being a Sunday, there was less traffic than a weekday, and far fewer trucks.  This week is medical appointment week.  Deb has one and I have three, mostly for physio for right elbow tendinitis, from some early April wood chopping.  More news as it happens.  Film report next time, including some Doctor Who episodes we saw in Sudbury. 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Overabundance of Spring

We seem to have entered a new (for this region) life zone.  We have always bordered, at times, on sub-tropical, but with the past extremely mild Winter and our very early Spring, it seems fitting to declare that Essex County is now about 300 miles south of where it used to be.  The only thing that remains the same is the hours of daylight we get.  Anyway, the lilacs and bridal flowers are over, roses are blooming, and grass is growing.  Our lawn will receive its fourth cut later today.  There is a kind of green on the leaves at this time of year that is very different from Summer green.  It's brighter and more cheerful in appearance, as the new leaves live their short lives to the fullest, before becoming next years' mulch.  Our maple tree has been deluging our driveway with keys.  There are two baby groundhogs that have been coming around.  One of them climbed the stairs yesterday and was scratching at the door.  I think the next door neighbour has been feeding them.

Baby groundhogs enjoying a snack near our driveway.

With the ground thawed in Sudbury, it is nearly time to be burying Dad's ashes.  One more epic drive lies ahead of us before things (hopefully) calm down for the summer.  I scanned some older pictures of Dad, and will share a few of them here. 

September 17th, 1952. 

 

Yours truly came along one year and 5 days later. 

 

Date unknown.  Probably taken at Copper Cliff arena, where his team usually played. 

 

In other news, Deb received her vintage Elmo 8 mm movie camera yesterday, and shot her first role of experimental film with it.  She built an indoor set on the theme of our obsession with images and photographed it under different lighting conditions.  The film now goes back to Toronto for developing and digitizing.  Results in about two weeks.

In film watching news, there are a few to report.  Most recently was Cryptozoo, an animated film by an American director from 2021.  The project began in 2016.  It hearkens back to the 1960s with its colourful imagery and save the world theme, only this time the saviours are out to protect actual live mythological animals.  They are being harassed by people, and so are placed, for temporary protection, in a zoo.  But when the animals are suddenly released, they go wild.  How can viewers tell if the animated film is for kids?  Well, if it has nudity, sex, and plenty of extreme violence, one should probably turn the Disney channel back on, and Mubi off.  It is a very bizarre film, and sometimes hard to watch.  Death by unicorn is not a pretty sight.  It certainly is a colourful one, though.

Now showing on Mubi. 

 

Before that came a newer film by Wes Anderson, called French Dispatch.  From 2021, the film is as clever as any Anderson film, and fun to watch.  Three short stories make up the bulk of the film, which describes the life and workings of a magazine produced in Paris and published Sundays in the Liberal, Kansas newspaper.  A somewhat odd premise.  The first story, about an insane artist, is the best of the three.  The second story, about a student leading a rebellion on campus, is less successful, as is the third, about the kidnapping and rescue of a young boy.  Bill Murray stars as the editor.  Above the door in the main office is a sign that says "No Crying."  This sign pretty much sums up Anderson's films, which are almost completely devoid of any emotional content.  The cleverness matches an autistic person's creativity, helping somewhat to move things along.  During the third story there is a very creative use of animation showing the pursuit and capture of the kidnappers.  One of the film techniques Anderson uses is to switch back and forth between b & w and colour.  I never understood the purpose of this.  Anderson fans should love the film; others can watch and at least gain much amusement.

 

We rented the film from Prime ($4.99). 

 

Deb's leaving choice was called The Mountains Are A Dream That Call To Me, a semi-documentary film from 2020.  Filmed in Nepal, it highlights the Anapurna Base Camp Trail, one of the most spectacular hiking trails in the world.  However, aside from the beautiful photography, which includes the trails, woods, rivers, sanctuary hotels and villages, and, of course, the mountains, there is little else to appreciate.  The barest thread of a story has a young guide voluntarily join an older woman who is climbing the trail.  He comes across her as he is descending, on his way to a job in Dubai.  He ends up following her for a time, but then she leaves him finally and he is on his own.  A yeti is seen from time to time, inexplicably.  As a film, this is not a great success.  As a coffee table photo book, it is quite amazing.

Screenshot from The Mountains...., leaving Criterion May 31st. 

 

We are currently amidst a long film starring James Mason and Ava Gardener, a technicolour film about the Flying Dutchman legend.  So far so good. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

 
 

 

Mahler #9, and The Silent Age

The Mahler 9th Symphony is his final completed work in that genre.  He died before he could ever hear it performed.  Last night the DSO performed it, and we watched it live on Youtube.  I am familiar with several of the symphonies, but not this one.  Performance times vary between 75-90 minutes.  Our conductor, Jader Bignamini, performed it in 80 minutes.  In four movements, I could live without the first two.  We have heard much of it before in other symphonies.  However, the 3rd and 4th movements are totally incredible.  The third builds to a climax that only an orchestra that is at the top of its game should ever attempt.  It was a hair raising experience through our main stereo speakers, let me tell you.  From the back row of Orchestra Hall (which has the best sound), I doubt if anyone lived through the experience.  By contrast, the final movement ends so softly that one doesn't really know when it ends, exactly.  It represents death, and the final few bars are again a major test of an orchestra's ability to produce sound, but in such quiet tones that it is difficult to describe just how softly it ends.

 

The Silent Age is a short but effective game for PC from Denmark, 2012.  A janitor, Joe, must save the world from a pandemic, brought back by a time traveler.  It is an adventure game in 2D.  The player must figure out how to gain access to buildings, rooms, and scientific equipment, without arousing any suspicion.  Some of the dialogue is very funny.  The puzzles are mostly easy once you gain the trick of time travel.  It took us around 4 hours to finish the game, but it is worth a replay.  After finishing the beautiful Eastshade, and then Syberia 4, nothing much could compare with them, so this little game provided a nice transition from Syberia to wherever we go next.  Highly recommended.

Joe the janitor attempts to save the world in The Silent Age, a fun and short game for PC. 

 

We had a few very chilly days and nights lately, with wind and rain.  We were able to have a wood fire this past week, using up the wood I had chopped and prepared for our Beltane evening.  Beltane itself had been too warm for a fire, and Deb had been quite sick, too.  But it warmed the house for us Tuesday night.  Last night and this morning we resorted to turning on the wood pellet stove for a few hours, but the sun is now out and temps are on the rise once again.  The grass has been cut three times already.  Deb's coughing has slowed down a lot, too.

 

We've been close to home now since coming back from Sudbury.  Practicing, reading, some writing (I am attempting to get Valeria into a blog format, so that at least it's up somewhere on the internet; I also have ideas for a new novel), and Deb preparing her next film project have kept us busy.  Of course movie watching goes on, too.  Just this week Criterion started up a live TV channel, in addition to the streaming one.  Both times we turned it on for fun, it was showing movies we've seen and loved.

 

There are two recently watched ones, both pretty long.   I chose Julia, a French film from 2008 starring Tilda Swinton, as my going away choice for the week.  She plays an alcoholic woman who kidnaps a young boy.  They end up in Mexico, where the kid gets kidnapped by Mexican gangsters.  The script is something that sounds as if it was made up as the film went along.  I can see why Tilda would accept the part, as she is in virtually every scene.  More a horror movie than a crime drama, there are many scenes I wish I could unsee.  Some of these involve pointing a gun at the kid's head and screaming and swearing at him, while others involve tying him up and gagging him, rolling him in a carpet and putting him in a trunk.  There are other scenes similar to this, too.  Julia, the character played by Tilda, is not the motherly type.  Until the very end, when she has lost everything.  Suddenly her motherhood instincts kick in.  Quite a pointless film, with a very unflattering opinion of Mexico and Mexicans.

Leaving Mubi soon. 

 

Dealing with even nastier source material, but presenting it in as a virtuosic cinematic experience is Nobuhiko Obayashi's 2012 marvel, Casting Blossoms To The Sky  It is the first in an anti-war trilogy by the director of House. It takes place in Nagaoka, a city that was fire bombed on August 1st, 1945.  Is uses words and first hand experiences from that event, it which the city was completely burned and hundreds of citizens lost their lives.  The city now uses a fireworks display to help it come to terms with its past.  Special effects are child-like but very effective, as the local high school prepares to put on a play about the tragedy on the anniversary of the bombing.  It was written by an 18 year old unicycle riding high school girl.  Melding the past with the present in a very artistic and skilful way, the stories about that night become more haunting than a simple retelling of them could be.  Fireworks are essentially the same as bombs, but their ultimate use differs quite substantially.  Though a film with many quiet moments, it is not a quiet film.  This film is a must see, and I will be screening the other two films soon.

Showing now on Criterion. 

 

Mapman Mike

 

 

 

Catching Up

So far I have been able to fend off the germs that Deb is giving out for free, as she battles a horrendous cold and cough virus.  She came down with something last Thursday (April 25th) that began in her throat and quickly spread to her chest.  She sounds like a two pack a day smoker when she coughs.  As a result she lost a lot of sleep, but seems to finally be coming around to something resembling normalcy, though she still coughs.

 

I've been getting back into a bit of film photography again, though the results won't be known until I've finished shooting the film.  I'm using my trusty Rollei 35 mm again, likely the best camera that I have.  Here are a couple of recent digital shots, just to help fill some space here.

 

We had a banner year for lilacs.  This is the neighbour's apple tree, which partially hangs over our yard.

Baie Comeau chugs upriver, as seen from the park across the street from our house.  Evidence of recent heavy rains can be seen in the brown water close to shore, runoff from small streams, as well as in the puddle at lower right. 

 

In film watching news, there are several to report.  I finished up my festival weekend last week with a film from Criterion and one from Prime.  The Prime one was another Screen Two film from the BBC, called Black Easter.  From 1995, it depicts the near future (1999), when the European Police Force (???) try to control the arrival of immigrants into Germany.  The bad European police have teamed up with the Russian Mafia to insure that there are no loopholes for entry.  With a truly horrible climax and very contrived ending sequence (I wouldn't have stopped at night on an expressway to help the survivors either), the film is often confusing in its story telling.  There are many unnecessary details added in, such as the 'good' cop's failed marriage.  However, the film does give a good indication of the scale of the refugee problem facing Europe and other civilized countries that normally accept refugees, such as the US and Canada.  At best it is unmanageable, and at worst it is a complete and total disaster.

Now showing on Prime.  

 

The festival concluded with Ida, a b & w Polish film from 2013.  It won the Oscar for best foreign film that year.  Usually the quiet ones have the most to say.  This film is European art house to the core, and could never be made by a big studio.  It is a nearly perfect film, in fact.  A young Polish woman is preparing to take her final vows and become a nun.  She appears to have no relatives, until an aunt is traced.  Mother Superior convinces her to go and visit the woman before her vows are taken.  She realizes that the girl has never really faced a test of her faith, as she was raised as an orphan in the convent and knows little of the outside world.  The growth of the relationship between the aunt, an alcoholic judge, and the young novice is a true wonder to behold.  It is handled minimally and perfectly, and we are able to piece together much that is not revealed.  

 

The girl wants to discover anything she can about her family, and the story gains emotional depth as it goes along.  The growth in the young woman is mesmerizing to watch.  She eventually learns all she needs, and much more, about her background.  She also meets up with a young sax player and they strike up a relationship.  The film is worth more than a single viewing.  Very highly recommended.

 

Now showing on Mubi.  Do not miss. 

 

Deb was too sick to take the effort to choose a film, so we just watched two more episodes of Detective Anna, a supernatural detective story set in Russia before the Revolution.  There are 96 episodes, each about 50 minutes long.  We are near the end, with about a dozen episodes remaining.  Besides a different murder mystery every two episodes, there is an ongoing story arc as well.  Pay little attention to the ongoing story, and just enjoy Anna two episodes at a time.

 

Deb did pick a going away feature, Repeat Performance from 1947.  A Hollywood Noir film, it stars the very pretty Joan Leslie as the murderer of her husband in the opening scene.  It's New Years' Eve, and she wanders the streets afterwards in her nightgown, wondering if she could have the year to live over again to avoid the murder.  Voila! It's New Years Eve the year before, and we get to live her life for the past year over again.  An interesting idea, but the husband is such a jerk that if I were the wife, I'd have shot him again on New Years' Day, not waiting a whole year to see him murdered.  Anyway, some things are different in her year, but events seem to lead up to the same sort of climax she was hoping to avoid.  The movie fails mostly because she is so dedicated to loving him, even though he truly despises her and doesn't mind showing it.  Who would ever put up with that guy?

A colour poster for the b & w film.  Showing on Criterion until May 31st.  

 

Back to my two regular weekly choices again.  My leaving choice was from Mubi, a Brazilian film from 2019 called The Invisible Life of Euridice Gusmao.  This near perfect film is hampered by one scene near the middle, a scene that is such a trope in films of this type that it really is unforgivable that it was included in the final cut.  Two very close sisters become separated when the eldest runs off with a Greek sailor to Greece.  By the time she returns home, she is pregnant, without a husband ("He was a scumbag"), and her younger sister has married and moved from the family home.  The father throws out the eldest sister, saying that he disowns her.  She is unable to find out anything about her younger sister, except that she moved to Vienna to study music (which she didn't).  To make a long story short, the two sisters spend the movie trying to find one another in Rio (it's the 1950s), and to no avail.  They lead very different lives, both unfulfilled without one another.  The scene in question has the women in the same restaurant at the same time, but of course they don't meet.  One happens to be in the powder room.  It is a frustrating scene, not a tragic one, and viewers cannot help but feel horribly manipulated.  The ending itself is far from satisfactory from an emotional point of view, though at least it is believable.  Recommended viewing.  Both sisters' acting is outstanding.  The deflowering of the younger sister on her wedding night has to become a classic of awkward cinematic moments.  Based on the novel by Martha Batalha.

 

Leaving Mubi May 15th. 

 

My regular selection was a one hour biography called The Adventures of Robert Louis Stevenson, produced by the BBC.  It is showing on Prime, along with a lot of other very fine BBC productions.  It is from 2005 and runs just under one hour.  With lots of photos, reenactments of parts of his life, and interviews with Stevenson scholars and writers, it is a fascinating watch.  He died very young (44) in Samoa, where he lived the last years of his life.  His first success was Treasure Island, followed by Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  His family produced a long line of lighthouse engineers, and of the 70 or so lighthouses built by them, all remain standing and active today.  Pretty remarkable.  Stevenson was pegged by his father to carry on the tradition.  It was not to be.  Millions of readers the world over were glad he became a writer instead.

Now showing on Prime.

Mapman Mike