Showing posts with label 1968. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1968. Show all posts

Monday, August 8, 2016

Sound the triumpets: it's William Shatner as Alexander the Great!





This is an unsold TV pilot from 1968. Took me A LONG time to find it on a free movie site. It has elements of greatness, as well as a side of cheese from Shatner's Desilu days. (More about Desilu-related issues in the next post!). The show boasts a strangely eclectic cast, from John Cassevetes (moody dark dramas, mostly) to Joseph Cotten (good journeyman actor meant to add credibility) to none other than Batman himself, Adam West.

It's worth seeing for the horsemanship alone. Shatner did all his own riding, a fact which makes more sense in light of the fact that at age 85, he STILL does all his own riding, competing at Saddlebred competitions all over the place. He's not exactly lean any more, but he does it. He's a natural horseman, and to see him thundering along bareback (no stirrups in Al's day!) with no bounce at all, as still as a feather on the horse's back. . . it's a sight to be seen.

The rest is pretty OK, though it's definitely a product of its time. Too bad it didn't make it, as this was the era - between Star Trek and T. J. Hooker, when Shatner was once again a star - that he had to live out of the back of his truck, with only the occasional Loblaws commercial to relieve the drought. But Shatner always had the ability to keep on keeping on, to be a working actor. Nowadays he does anything he wants - including riding horses.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

The most terrifying video I've ever seen




Back when this first came out, in 1968, nobody knew what the hell he was talking about. It was just some kind of nonsensical sci-fi vision of something we knew would never happen.

And it's all coming true.


Saturday, May 17, 2014

"What did you do to his eyes?"





This is not the best gif technically, but it will do: it captures the "reveal", the most sublime moment in Rosemary's Baby, which I watched for the third time last night on DVD. 

Though this hardly seems possible, I saw it on TV in about 1969 - I know it's true because I watched it in the den when I was sleeping in the pull-out bed, and we  moved away later that year, so there were no more late-night fright nights. Back then, it usually took quite a few years for a movie to go from theatrical release to television, and then only in adulterated form. How could it have shown up on TV, pretty much intact, in only a year?




Then the movie completely disappeared. It never came on television, not even on Turner Classics. It was never re-released. I could not find a trace of it anywhere, so was finally forced to buy a rather shitty DVD with grainy quality, perhaps a knockoff.

43 years had gone by, but what I retained from that night in the pullout bed was amazing.

I remembered so much of it, in fact, it became apparent on second viewing that it had burned itself into my brain. Some movies barely register, but this one became part of my neural network.



Why? IT'S BLOODY GOOD. Everything about it is enthralling and strange, especially the dream sequences. Mia Farrow is excellent in it, creating sympathy while at the same time setting up doubt that any of this is real, that it isn't just a product of her fevered "pre-partum" brain.

And John Cassavetes - HE is the devil, as far as I am concerned. He is evil incarnate, far worse than the dotty old people chanting about Lord Satan. One of the creepiest scenes is when he tries to justify to Rosemary the sacrifice of their child to Satanic forces:

"Think of all we're getting in return."



Roman Polansky's reputation was forever besmirched by a statutory rape case, though the victim came out a few years ago and (bizarrely) came to his defense. That aside, there is no doubt that this is an inspired work. The sense of weirdness, of the world slipping sideways, the eerie tension juxtaposed with normalcy, does not let up for a second. It pulls tight and lets go, taking us with it.  That horrible sense of "they're all in it together", a prime feature of paranoia, plays on our fears of surrendering control. And having one special, beloved ally, one person who "gets it", then losing him to those dark forces,  is heartbreaking. 

OK, so then, why did I watch this masterpiece again? Because one of the networks decided to do a remake, which was so atrocious I only watched it to see how truly bad a remake could be.

In stark contrast with the original, nobody was good in this, and they changed all the best parts, including that astonishing "reveal" (one of the great moments in the horror genre). 




Leave it alone, I tell you! But nobody does. Did they think they could make this any better? They even wrecked the quirky charm of the short-skirt, go-go '60s by trying to "bring it up to date". 

But we've lost the ability  to make movies like this, that ruthlessly pull and claw at the emotions.  All is slash-and-splatter now, and somehow or other it does not have anywhere near the impact of a 98-pound waif  wielding a butcher knife. Married to Sinatra, in the bargain.



Order The Glass Character from:

Thistledown Press 

Amazon.com

Chapters/Indigo.ca

Friday, June 7, 2013

Incredible word soup






Ducks on a pond, ducks on a pond
Very pretty swimming round
The lion and the unicorn journey very far








The answers are the question, sir
The lady soothes the lion's fur
Meek as a lamb he follows her
Wherever angels are

Sing me something









I asked the ice it would not say
But only cracked or moved away
I thought I knew me yesterday
Whoever sings this song





Greetings on you kings in the sky
Who'll buy me a mynah bird
Play me a magic word
Speak of hopes with thoughts absurd



Thoughts floating by
Little ducks, pretty birds
Clouds across the sky




Moving pieces on the plains of Troy
Carving faces on the rocks of joy
Pretty lady washing the tiles
Soapy pictures like crocodiles

Chilly winds blowing
Lovely spring coming soon










I wear my body like a caravan
Gipsy rover in a magic land
Misty mountains where the eagles fly
Lonely valleys where the lost ones cry





I had a little letter full of paper
Inky scratches everywhere
Always looking, looking for a paradise island
Help me find it everywhere




Peacocks talking of the colour grey
Awaking soundly in darkest day
A howling tempest on a silent sea
Lovely Jesus nailed to a tree




Mad as the moon when Merlin falls
Silver castles and silver halls
Taking lessons from the piper's son
Learn to play while the world is young





Boys and girls come out to play
The moon doth shine as bright as day
Leave your sorrows and leave your sleep
And join your playfellows in the street




Come with a whoop or come with a call
Come with a goodwill or not at all
Up the ladder and down the wall
A ha'penny loaf will serve for all




Following my fortune now the Holy Grail is found
And the Holy Bread of Heaven it is given all around
Farewell sorrow, praise God the open door
I ain't got no home in this world any more




Poor as the birds but to give their song away
Gathering possessions round to make a bright array
Dark was the night, praise God the open door
I ain't got no home in this world anymore.





Brighter every day





OK then, this is a mixup, but not really. All day yesterday (or I think it was the day before), I was thinking of that Incredible String Band song Ducks on a Pond. Makes sense, because all I did  that day was watch ducks/ducklings on a pond.

I wanted to post my homemade duckling gifs, video, etc. and wondered if the Ducks on a Pond song would be a good accompaniment. Well. . . I hadn't heard the Increds (as we called them back in 1968) for many,  many years, but I remembered they were best listened to when you were stoned out of your mind on hashish (with a side of cheap wine). I now see why. The Ducks song just goes on forever, and though it has some arresting images in it, it's just too crazy to include here.





But I found another one, much shorter and more - what, sprightly? Less stoner-rific? Like you can actually listen to it clean and sober. No ducks in it, but it's still a nice song.

So here it is. . . with ducks.

You Get Brighter

You get brighter every day and every time I see you
Scattered brightness in your way and you taught me how to love you






And I know you belong to everybody but you can't deny that I'm you
I know you belong to everybody but you can't deny that I'm you

In the morning when I wake I moor my boat and greet you
Hold your brightness in my eye and I wonder what does sleep do







For you get brighter every day and every time I see you
Scattered brightness in your way and you taught me how to love you

I know you belong to everybody but you can't deny that I'm you
I know you belong to everybody but you can't deny that I'm you

Oh, wondrous light
Light, light, lighter
You give all your brightness away
and it only makes you brighter






For you get brighter every day and every time I see you
Scattered brightness in your way and you taught me how to love you

And I know you belong to everybody but you can't deny that I'm you
I know you belong to everybody but you can't deny that I'm you

Krishna colours on the wall you taught me how to love you
Krishna colours on the wall you taught me how to love you
(repeat and repeat and repeat)







You get brighter 




Every




Day.


Monday, February 20, 2012

Hard, hard, hard



This popped into my head for the first time in years as I had a phone conversation with a dear friend tonight. It seems we are both wrestling with similar things. It has become apparent to us how much easier it is (for some people) to be "benevolent", "socially conscious", sensitive to world issues and the "bleeding crowd", than it is to be vulnerable and caring and human on the level of one heart to one heart.

Easy to be hard.

This is the original cast version from Hair, sung by Lynn Kellog, and I used to listen to it obsessively in 1968 (OK, I hereby date myself as an ageing flower child). I had no idea how great her voice was because back then it all sort of washed over me in a pot-induced haze.

She sings it simply in a great contralto voice, but the emotion is tremendous and the lyric is delivered with devastating impact. Do you only care about the bleeding crowd? How about a needing friend?

I need a friend.



http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

"A car full of kids and snow cones": really dumb songs I like








He's the 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero
And you can see him every weekend
With a car full of kids and snow cones






And the people cross town don't know his name
But on Franklin Pike Circle, he's king
1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero

Well, at five thirty-five at
The corner of Franklin and Warner
A blue station wagon comes
Sliding around the corner





And on down Franklin Pike Circle
All you're seeing is a streak of blue
And pulls in the drive at the address of 1432








And he says, my head aches and my back hurts
And I don't feel like talking
Don't wan go the show to see Doctor Zhivago
Don't wanna take the dog out walking

I wanna sit right here in this easy chair
It's been a jungle all day, you know
The 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero is home







He was out pitching ball with the
Kids in the neighborhood yesterday
And the old major leaguer had to quit
'Cause he said he threw his arm away

And the kids all hid behind the hedge
And laughed at him but wouldn't let it show
Because they love him so,
He's the 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero








He's the 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero
And you can see him every weekend
With a car full of kids and snow cones

And, you know people cross town
Don't know his name
But on Franklin Pike Circle, he's king
1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero








Well, he won a little pony at the
Hill High auction just the other day
And he didn't mean to do it
And he wanted to give the pony away









When they called out his name
He tried not to claim it
But the kids started crying
'Cause they'd already named it








And who's up every Saturday morning
Saddling his new toy, you guessed it
The 1432 Franklin Pike Circle cowboy

He's the 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero
And you can see him every weekend
With a car full of kids and snow cones





During Christmas, took the kids
Down to see the floats
When he wanted to stay home
And watch the Baltimore Colts
1432 Franklin Pike Circle Hero





Well, the ten-thirty news usually
Finds our hero is a sleepy head
And Peter's out somewhere wrecking the car
And the rest of the kids have gone to bed







So she takes his hand
They climb the stairs and he falls asleep
And she bends over him so tenderly
To kiss his cheek





'Cause she loves him so
And she's lucky, you know
To be married to the 1432
1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero




He's the 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero
And you can see him every weekend
With a car full of kids and snow cones



Christmas time, he took
'Em down to see the floats
When he wanted to stay home
And watch the Baltimore Colts
He's the 1432 Franklin Pike Circle hero