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March 21, 2006
Pippy at the cinema ~ rated R for ratty ~ brief knitting content!
If you get a chance, and you are at all interested in garbage, farming, wasted stuff and where it goes, or oversized heart-shaped potatoes and why you don't see them in the grocery store, or gypsies who live in trailers, or why a French biologist with a beautiful secret life would eat thrown-away parsley after the market ends for the day in Paris, or dolls as architectural systems, or the work of French filmaker Agnès Varda (the only female director of the New Wave) I have a recommendation for you!
Get this DVD and you will be so glad you did. Its called The Gleaners and I or, in Frenchie, Les Glaneurs et la glaneuse -kind of like The Gleaners and the Gleaneress- as the filmaker likens filmaking unto gathering leftover or secondhand things and re-using or recombobulating them. The film is actually from 2000, but I am just coming across it now, which seems appropriate in some way.
(For me the film was also good for reviewing my Frenchie, as in a scene where little boys are picking discarded potatoes and singing a little song which describes their diet and goes through the days of the week. Translated into English the words go~ Monday, potatoes. Tuesday, potatoes. Wednesday, potatoes.. up until Sunday, potatoes again! And since I always forget Thursday-Jeudi- I appreciated the refresher.)
Oh, its beautiful! I've been thinking about it since I saw it on Sunday night, and remembering snippets periodically, like one does with a happy dream. And plus, it was part of the Rat Patrol film fest, who knew there were so many films about rats, garbage-picking, and freakbikes? Dudes, there are! And it was an interesting, edifying, and stimulating stew of an evening, with Rats of all shapes and sizes (and dare I say it, states of personal hygiene, egads! It keeps things interesting, I'm serious. So don't go taking it the wrong way, the smell added to the ambiance, really!) in attendance, Cannes never saw such a beautiful crowd! I mean it, man.
For gosh sakes, its not some MTV bulls***, as they say! No! Its very serious biz, this freakbikery, and fun even after someone, well, hits their head really hard on concrete, its true! As happened in the culminating feature of the evening's cinematic offerings, the long-awaited documentary -nay, docu-drama!- B.I.K.E., the trailer of which I think I posted before but can not locate at press time! If you can get ahold of that thing, its also a good time, if not entirely accurate in all of its facts, ahem. It makes mention of Chicago's own Rat Patrol and features commentary from one photogenic, charismatic Johnny Payphone, in his crusty splendor. And plus there's lotsa tall-bike jousting which is good for a laugh, or a cringe, as it were. And lotsa New York-ey types, and one kinda very sad but in a certain way lovable bumbler guy who one roots for in spite of his patheticality, some would say wastedness, in my case I think it had something to do with his resemblance to a soulful kind of abandoned hound-dawg of some sort. Tony. Poor guy. He brings it on himself and then he cries a lot. He makes god-awful student films. (Oh, the white face paint!) The Black Labels, hardest core of the hardcore, shun him! Repeatedly! And he comes back for more. And more. I'm not making this sound appealing, but it is, in a perverse way.
Plus, to redeem it all, there is one big bonus knitting scene, yes, the money shot! Brief but poignaint! As Tony's mom is interviewed, she arranges her work in her lap distractedly, some kind of longish piece that appears to be a scarf, attached to a fat double-pointed needle, and being made from extra-chunky something! She explains calmly how she knew from his childhood drawings that her son was troubled.
And there's the bikes, so I say thumbs up, if not way up. But that's just me.
Did you know its Bach's 321st birthday? It is. HBD, Bach!
But wait! There's more! (now how much would you pay??) This just in~more about B.I.K.E. the movie, and those wacky freakbikers. Just fyi. For your pleasure. Just in case.
Posted by at March 21, 2006 11:40 AM
Comments
Cest ne pas vrai! Je pense en francais donc je suis!
Posted by: djm at March 21, 2006 03:08 PM