I keep drifting on and on
I have been ploughed under by sleeplessness and a monumental stupidity of scheduling in the middle of the week, but I enjoyed last night's thunderstorm. I've been reading Shena Mackay's Dreams of Dead Women's Handbags (1987) and Jean-Pierre Coursodon's American Directors: Volume II (1983), which is not actually the volume I thought I had ordered from the library, but at least turned out to be the one with the essay on Ida Lupino. (I had wanted the one with the essay on Byron Haskin.) Have a couple of links.
1. This is a really nice interview with Joe Dante about The Movie Orgy (1968), which I have never seen and which sounds amazing and which I hope plays the Somerville someday.
2. I grew up on Alastair Sim in Scrooge (1951) and it makes me very happy that someone has published a book studying this Christmas classic in terms of horror cinema.
3. We have been telling Autolycus that he resembles this comic.
Last night![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I watched The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh (1979). It may be the most delightful basketball movie I have ever seen, not to mention a near-musical with its deep-cut soundtrack of disco and Philadelphia soul; it's sweet and less full-bore zany than the astrological conceit makes it sound, even if at one point a hot-air balloon descends majestically through the dome of a stadium. Rob had been trying to see it for decades. It seems to have lived up.
1. This is a really nice interview with Joe Dante about The Movie Orgy (1968), which I have never seen and which sounds amazing and which I hope plays the Somerville someday.
2. I grew up on Alastair Sim in Scrooge (1951) and it makes me very happy that someone has published a book studying this Christmas classic in terms of horror cinema.
3. We have been telling Autolycus that he resembles this comic.
Last night
spatch and I watched The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh (1979). It may be the most delightful basketball movie I have ever seen, not to mention a near-musical with its deep-cut soundtrack of disco and Philadelphia soul; it's sweet and less full-bore zany than the astrological conceit makes it sound, even if at one point a hot-air balloon descends majestically through the dome of a stadium. Rob had been trying to see it for decades. It seems to have lived up.
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All cats are the cat in that comic. Ditto all toddlers, whom cats so much resemble.
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That is awesome.
I love the cat comic.
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