About the Oscar nominations: Chicago is to movies what painted cows are to art.
Author: greg
What’re THINK Thinking?
Team THINK’s winning WTC design: lattice towers with a, um,
museum? embedded in it image: vinoly.com
Goin’ to hear THINK architect/model Rafael Vinoly at Urban Center tonight (as suggested by Gawker)? Ask him if the reason he was a no-show yesterday on WNYC’s Brian Lehrer Show was that listener’s early comment, which surprised Lehrer, about how THINK’s towers appear to have an airplane embedded in it? Listen to the exchange is in the “3rd audio clip. [2016 updated link to WNYC archive page currently has no audio.]
[Note: If you watch THINK’s video on The NYT‘s slideshow, the shape of the “airplane” is quite different; it looks more like a giant aluminum cheese straw. For THINK’s sake, I hope that’s closer to their intentions. One team of architects trying to sneak a shudder-inducing memorial past us is more than enough, thanks.]
[2016 update: lmao of course most of these links are dead, I cannot BELIEVE that the realaudio of WNYC’s show from 13 yrs earlier is not there anymore! But I un-hotlinked and updated the image and the Vinoly link. Swimming against the tide of time, also Gawker RIP]
Who Are The People In Your Neighborhood, v3.0
A close reading of VH1’s hilariously detailed countersuit [at The Smoking Gun, naturally] against David Gest and Liza Minnelli for sabotaging production of their “reality” show with (mostly his) obstructionist diva behavior yields an obvious, all-too-NYC explanation: Gest simply doesn’t know how to deal with a co-op board.
Sure, Gest’s demands that VH1 put up his LA stylist in a nearby apartment for the scheduled duration of the shoot (6 months: $60K), that a VH1 staffer “stick her head inside the oven” to see if it’s clean enough to shoot, and his refusals to appear when “he wasn’t looking his personal best” get the media attention. But all VH1’s real dealbreakers–the hours- and days-long delays getting into the couple’s apartment; abruptly imposed shooting limits (from 30 shooting days per 10 episode cycle to 10 days per year [italics in original]); and constraints on their crew (restricted numbers, limited drilling/installation of equipment, etc.) can be traced back to the co-op board. Or more specifically, to Gest’s failure to get the co-op board on board before signing the deal with VH1. How is this possible?
Co-op boards wield a lot of power over many New Yorkers’ lives, most notably when they bare their lives (and financial statements) to be approved to buy an apartment. But boards also regulate a lot of how and what we do “in our own homes.” Under the grandfathering clause, the dowager on the third floor is the only one allowed a dog. Construction work–even drilling a hole–can only be done in the summer, when the neighbors are in the Hamptons. Remodelling taking longer than five months? No problem, the $2,000/day fine meter is running. The oven thing sounds like pure Gest, but David’s demand that a VH1 gaffer installing lighting vacuum the dust up immediately sounds like ducking a “no construction” clause.
Is this another example of “show business people” running afoul of co-ops? Maybe, if Liza’s building was a serious co-op, on Fifth, Park, or CPW. But apparently, the only pre-req the Imperial House–on 69th between Lex and Third (Third!)–has for celebrity residents is bizarrely crafted eyebrows. Joan Crawford lived (and died). Kay Thompson lived there, with Liza. And before she took that, um, sublet in Riverhead, Lizzie Grubman lived there during her starter marriage.
A Google search of the building’s address doesn’t turn up any co-op board horror stories. But what it does turn up makes one wonder if David Gest had a reason to think video shoots in the building would be okay. According to the last search result on this Google page, an outfit called Regular J o e V i d e o also operated out of 150 E 69th (Sorry about the spaces; you’ll have to Google it for yourself. Not the the kind of site traffic I’m after, thanks). A quick visit to RJV’s (not work-friendly) site offers a distinctive genre of “reality” programming (I believe the industry term is “amateur”), one which involves digital video, the delivery guy, and the guest room. (No pun intended, I swear. These people’ll sue anything that moves.)
Did Gest, who moved into Liza’s apartment with his collection of Judy Garland memorabilia, get some neighborly advice that, “Hey, shooting video’s no problem; I do it all the time. Wanna see?” Who knows? One thing is clear: A co-op board’s power doesn’t extend to pre-nuptial veto. for better or worse (and it’s certainly debatable at this point), when Liza decided to marry again, her fiance didn’t face a grueling co-op interview. But once he moved in and fell under their purview, the co-op board made it very clear who was wearing the pants in the Gest/Minnelli house.
NYPost Uncharacteristically Critical of French
In the cover story of today’s Post, columnist and decorated war veteran Steve Dunleavy visits a military cemetery in France and proceeds to excoriate the French for “forgetting the sacrifice we (the US)” made in WWII. Never mind that he doesn’t talk to a single French person in his journey, he does quote some Americans there, who say, unfortunately for Dunleavy, “surely they remember.”
Although Souvenir (November 2001) is about a search for a WWI memorial, and although the French people in the film can’t give directions to the British monument, they absolutely have not forgotten WWI, much less WWII. What does seem to be forgotten, though, is the goodwill and sympathy the world extended to Americans during the period in which Souvenir is set, the goodwill that has been squandered.
Dunleavy quotes an American student giving the simplistic advice that has served backpackers well for years: “We have been told that if we face any kind of a threat, we should say we’re Canadians, not Americans.” That’s the fifth time in a week I’ve seen this tactic mentioned in the media. That’s something worth writing home about.
Bill & Nada’s Cafe
Bill & Nada’s Cafe was where I had my first script idea. It’s not that the Salt Lake dance clubs were cooler than the ones in Provo, there were no dance clubs in Provo. (Don’t talk to me about The Palace; that was like a church dance in Orange County). So we’d drive to Salt Lake to go out. Finding a designated driver was never a problem (think about it). Then after the clubs closed, we’d go to Bill & Nada’s. Much cooler than Denny’s. And full of characters, whether at 3AM or 8AM or lunchtime. Clubbies trying to be bad, punks, mothers with home-dyed hair, Willy Lomans, and always a few grizzled friends of Bill at the counter, truckers, probably. Or prospectors.
It was the time warp kind of diner that hadn’t changed since the early sixties. Ancient country music on the jukeboxes (one on each table. There’d always be some jerk who’d order up Patsy Cline’s Crazy ten times, just as he was getting his check. Damn college kids.) The most famous dish was eggs & brains, but I’d always get pancakes (“Breakfast served all day”), which were orange (fertilized eggs, they’d say) and tapioca pudding. Or a patty melt. Every hour, the head waitress’d saunter over and spin the wheel. If your seat number hit, your order was free (there are little stick-on numbers at each spot, it turns out). There’s a vintage Field & Stream-like mural of a mountain lake on one wall, and a portrait of Bill, in full metal jacket and chaps, on his show horse. Just like in the Pioneer Day parade, every July.
There were stories, told on the way home, about why the pictures of Bill & Nada are so old, too. “Go ask where she is,” some smart ass’d say, but no one ever did. Uncovering the urban legend we were sure lurked behind Bill & Nada’s was to be my first documentary, I decided; So many characters! And so quirky! (I was running the International Cinema program at BYU my senior year.) Half-assed research and writing efforts in the following years yielded one problematic result: there was no mystery, nothing lurking behind anything at Bill & Nada’s. What do you do when the reality turns out to be far less sensational than what you’d built it up to be in your mind? In my case, you go to business school, I guess.
I found this meal ticket from Bill & Nada’s today while sorting through some tax receipts. I bought it for the clean design. Despite the slogan, Bill & Nada’s closed at the end of 1999. On their last night in business, I took my DV camera down there and roamed around for a couple of hours, capturing the atmosphere, shooting detail shots, so I could recreate it on a set, when the time came. Looks like longtime patron Bert Singleton did the same thing before they tore the place down last January.
There Will Be No Connecting The Dots
I Mean, Just Look How Happy They Were!
In 1990, just out of school, I was transfixed by a copy of Ansel Adam’s self-published book, Born Free And Equal, at a big antiques show. At $200, it was the most expensive book I’d ever wanted, and I choked. Almost five years of searching later, it was the first thing I bought online, from a collector on a photography newsgroup. [Of course, now you can almost always find a copy on Abebooks.] Adams’ combined his photographs–signature landscapes, portraits and documentary shots–of the Japanese American internment camp in Manzanar, CA with his scathing text to condemn the US government’s (all three branches) stripping of US citizens’ and residents’ civil rights.
Published in 1944, Adams’ book was poorly received, no surprise. Many copies were reportedly burned, and today, it is an exceedingly rare, little known work by a very famous photographer. Since the 1960’s, the Manzanar collection has been at the Library of Congress. Tell Jack Valenti when you want to see his neck twitch: Adams put these pictures into the public domain, to assure their survival. View all 244 images here.
Why do I post this now? Well, I have contemplated ideas for a film based in the camps. And a John Ashcroft deputy has suggested such camps for Arab Americans would not be illegal. But now, a Congressman from North Carolina (home state, thanks), the Chairman of the House Subcommittee on Domestic Security, has defended the camps, proclaiming them “appropriate” and “for their [the Japanese’] own safety.” Two branches down, one to go.
[2024 update: I actually used to hotlink images, that is how idealistic I was about the permanent informational utopia we were building on the world wide web and the direction copyright and fair use was heading in 2003. lol]
Powell: Pointed Presentation
Guernica, Pablo Picasso’s painting of the horrors of war
At the UN today, Colin Powell’s PowerPoint deck is expected to pull back the curtain, not on the alleged threat Iraq poses, but on Iraq’s defiance of various Security Council resolutions. One thing you won’t see, however: the tapestry version of Picasso’s Guernica, which hangs at the entrance to the Security Council’s chamber. A gift of Nelson Rockefeller (who also donated the land for the UN headquarters), the paintings iconic protest imagery says “Abandon war all ye who enter here” to UN participants. According to the Washington Times, when Iraq is being discussed, Guernica is covered by a UN-blue curtain and clusters of flags. [Thanks to BoingBoing, who reads the WT for me. The NYTimes has a brief report, too. For pinkos.]
Not Afraid of Love, 2000, Maurizio Cattelan, image: artnet.com
Of course, simply throwing a sheet over it doesn’t make it go away; the message can still come through loud and clear. Picasso captured public outrage at the beta-test of the Nazi’s then-new concept, aerial bombing, which destroyed a Basque village in a three-hour rain of terror. From that v0.9, we’ve moved to “shock and awe,” the Windows XP of aerial bombing tactics, which, according to Pentagon leaks, would shower 3,000+ missiles on Iraq in the first 48 hours of war. The elephant is still in the room, no matter what it’s covered with.
As it turns out, UN spokesmen in both Times reports say they’re covering Guernica, for logistical, not political reasons, no. According to the WT, when Colin Powell faces the throng of cameras outside the chamber, it appears there’s a horse’s ass behind him when he talks.
[update: If you wonder why your day went badly, check and see if you wrote the same thing as Maureen Dowd. If she didn’t include references to Maurizio Cattelan, there’s still hope for your night. (via Travelers Diagram)]
On WTC Site Designs
What I hope doesn’t carry through from the plans the LMDC selected from Daniel Libeskind and THINK Team:
What I hope does carry through:
What Filler calls such a concept, which I personally favor: “unquestionably the most provocative.” [I think he’s talking about the latticework as Ban’s, not the memorial. I like both.]
Despite a lot of overwrought reaction, Filler wins the greg.org “smartest critic” award for agreeing with me on so many points: this memorial idea, the 1,776′ tower, and (finally!) the Eisenman-as-ruin-as-memorial-instigator analysis.
Washington, DC Is The Kind Of Movie Town Where
CDDb: The Carson Daly Database
Carson Headroom, image:ap/nytimes.com
The Axis of Radio Evil, Clear Channel, has assembled a Carson Daly database of sound clips, phrases, jokes and gossip, from which they construct city-customized versions of “Carson’s” top-10 radio show. Put down the vacuum cleaner, Mr. Astaire, and come out with your hands up.
Read David Gallagher‘s fascinating/creepy article in the NYTimes.
So Then Who Blew (Whom) At Sundance?
From yesterday’s NYTimes:
Editors’ Note, Sunday Styles
The Age of Dissonance column last Sunday, about cozying up to celebrities, mentioned a report in The Daily News that guests at the Sundance film festival “had their shoes spattered” when the actor Tobey Maguire was taken ill. But the day the Times column appeared, The News quoted the actor’s publicist as saying that although Mr. Maguire doubled over at one point, it was not he who vomited.”
MIMO: Movies In, Movies Out
Here are the movies I’ve been gorging myself on this week as I go back to finish the script for the As Yet Unannounced Animated Musical (AYUAM). Discussion to follow, but one correction in the mean time: you know how I said the AYUAM is like Sound of Music meets Aeon Flux? What I meant was, it’s like West Side Story meets The Matrix. Short answer: (WSS, SOM, and Star Trek I (!!) director/Citizen Kane editor (!!!)) Robert Wise ROCKS.
Here are the inputs:
Note: Seeing Lost in La Mancha made me want to revisit a script, the script I’d imagined for years would be my first film. At some point, it grew several Don Quixote-like elements to it. It also made me want to bitchslap the producers on Terry Gilliam’s film. I can’t believe how much was not done/in place before they started, and while they were going along. Unconscionable. Also, seeing Confessions of a Dangerous Mind made me hate Chuck Barris and like George Clooney, so, mission accomplished.
Because You Keep Asking…
Search queries answered this edition:
Q: “The best This American Life”
Q: “Buy Carambar online”
Q: “Simpsons conservative fansites”
Q: “David Gallagher Shirtless Pictures”
I give you the 2nd edition of greg.org answers, wherein I provide the information you thought you’d find on this site, but didn’t.
Q “The best This American Life“ (greg.org Googlerank: 3rd of 4 results)
A I did answer that, last April (Conventions, with John Perry Barlow). But my weasely, equivocating prose (“perhaps the best TAL episode in my memory”) is about as slippery as, well, let’s just say “the case still needs to be made.”
Still, “the best” is tricky. The TAL Staff give their favorites, which hasn’t been added to since 11/01, so we’re missing about 15 months of judgment calls.
When TAL won the Univ. of Georgia’s Peabody Award in 1996, the jurors cited three episodes from that year: The cruelty of children, When you talk about music, and From a distance. Ostensibly chosen to show TAL‘s range, these episodes–which include stories of gay teen anguish, a Tom Jones impersonator, and obsession with celebrity–actually reflect the “we’re the center of the universe!” ecstasy that overtook Georgia in 1996, when hometown girl, Ru-Paul, ruled the world.
You could always buy the CD. Lies, Sissies, and Fiascoes: The Best of This American Life has 12 stories on 2 discs. Until Ira Glass starts taking my calls again, that’s the best I can do.
Q “Buy Carambar online”(Googlerank: 2 of 12)
A “Always popular, Carambar is a chewy caramel baton-shaped candy,” the French cash register equivalent of chocolatey Ice Cubes and crack pipes with little roses in them. Sure, Donald Rumsfeld dismisses Carambar as “Old Europe,” but isn’t that what you’d expect the ringleader of the global aspartame conspiracy to say?
Buy Carambar online from the excellent French Feast:
box of 200 (1750g) – $25.00
individual (8g) $0.15
Q “Simpsons conservative fansites” (Googlerank: 5th of 9 results)
A Since “Blessed Ned of Springfield” graced the cover of Christianity Today, the story practically wrote itself: Conservatives actually love The Simpsons. Clearly the article’s author, Mark Pinsky, is a fan; he wrote The Gospel According to The Simpsons. But he’s also a reporter for the Orlando Sentinel; are there any non-journalist fans?
Simplistically equating conservative and religious, I found Noah Gradofsky’s The Simpsons Talmud and JVibe’s “Hey man, don’t have a leavened bread!” site for Passover ritual, The Homer Counter.
Of course religious and conservative are not synonyms, unless you’re a godless communist. The #1 conservative Simpsons fan has to be National Review editor-at-large, Jonah Goldberg, who’s May 2000 article, “Homer Never Nods: The Importance of The Simpsons,” sets a thoughtful, hi-larious high bar for contemporary conservative writing. And UVA Professor Paul Cantor’s essay, The Simpsons: Atomistic Politics and the Nuclear Family” in Political Theory, provides the intellectual foundation for conservative Simpsons appreciation. Still, I’d have to count these as professional fans.
Q “David Gallagher Shirtless Pictures” (Googlerank: 106th of 376 results)
A Dude. Do you know who this is? I had to look it up. It’s the kid from 7th Heaven. Cold comfort that he turns 18 in less than two weeks; any shirtless pictures are from when he’s a kid.
I don’t know which is more disturbing, that you were looking for these pics in the first place, that you trawled through eleven increasingly irrelevant screens of Google search results before clicking on my site, or that what probably caught your attention on Google was the phrase, “shirtless Aryans,” (which I used in a discussion of contemporary art’s influence on film to describe the Bruce Weber-y American History X.)
I’ve had enough for now. Two other answers must wait, I’m afraid:
Q “eyeing each inert mien and artificial plan” (hint: it’s a quote from the Herbert Muschamp/Showgirls parody. I’m still looking.)
Q “Matthew Barney Cremaster on DVD” this is by far the most-asked search that goes unfound here at greg.org. But don’t despair. I’m working on a very interesting answer for this one. Stay tuned.
Strictly (Sundance) Business
First, rather than just say, “Called it!” (which I did, thank you), let me congratulate director Stewart Hendler and company (including DP John Ealer) for winning Sundance’s Online Film Festival with their short, One.
Second, third and fourth, check out the following roundups of Sundance deal-making and film performance. The takeaway (sorry, Holly Hunter): Wo unto those who maketh their films for buzz, for verily, they have their reward.
Mary Glucksman takes a thorough and incisive look at indie film and distributor performance in 2002 in Filmmaker Magazine. Last year, only eight festival-bought independent films grossed more than $1 million. (The population of acquisition execs who passed on the non-festival My Big Fat Greek Wedding is enough to fill Park City. In fact, it just did…)
Glucksman picks apart seven 2002 Sundance deals to uncover the winners and losers, finding three-time Sundance vet Miguel Arteta’s The Good Girl to be the win-win deal of the year for all involved. Interestingly, Gary “win-win” Winnick’s Tadpole results in sweet deals for everyone but Miramax, who bought the film in a classic Sundance frenzy for $5 million (it only made $2.8 at the box office). [Harvey, if you’re overpayin’, I’m playin’. Give me a call.]
Filmmaker also has a handy Sundance Box Office 2002 Chart, which you can cut out and put next to your editing station, to remind you of the financial folly you’re undertaking.
In the Voice, Anthony Kaufman casts a (now understandably) sober eye at this year’s deals, calling bulls**t on both the supposed value of festival buzz and the overheated acquisitions it spawns. Or, in the words of Sony Pictures Classics prexy Michael Barker, “We’ve been burned before by the Sundance frenzy. In fact, we’ve had more success with films that we’ve revisited after the festival outside the context of sleep deprivation. And that’s what we’re going to do in the coming weeks.”