Tag Archives: criminals

Bronson [2008)

Three hospitals.

Three towers.

Alan Franey running Broadmoor on recommendation of Jimmy Savile.

From 1968 onwards, Jimmy Savile had his own room at Broadmoor for his “charity” work.

Savile had a personal set of keys to Broadmoor from 1968 till 2004.

Or 2009.

Unsupervised access to some wards.

Mad max.

Black hawk down.

Tom Clancy.

I got close to Luton.

In the rain.

Wandsworth.

Gary Glitter.

James Earl Ray.

Julian Assange.

Oscar Wilde.

Pete Doherty.

Broadmoor 1982.

With that fucker Jimmy Savile on the loose.

Who’s the real criminal?

Wormwood Scrubs.

Babyshambles.

True romance.

She’s marrying Brian.

Brixton.

Mick Jagger.

Glenn Danzig.

New Jersey.

Bristol.

Rock and roll part II.

Belmarsh.

GITMO as a verb.

WikiLeaks.

Tommy Robinson.

Budgie.

Motorboating.

Nicolas Winding Refn.

Christina Hendricks.

Lively and Reynolds in New Orleans.

Honoré soon gun-grabbing again like in Katrina.

Most certainly masterpiece.

Birds.

Pajaros.

Magritte.

Un Chien andalou.

Bronson Salvador.

Jung death wish.

Verdi.

Refn Jewish Dane.

Wagner.

Little-known Attila.

It was my destiny like Rachmaninoff.

Ring cycle.

Stolen.

Richard Strauss.

Bruckner 4.

Delibes.

Deliberate.

Puccini.

Watch for Bregenz.

Q ear piece.

Lapel.

-PD

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Baby Driver [2017)

What happens in war?

The CDC declared war on the psyches of Americans when it started counting probable cases of coronavirus and probable deaths resulting from COVID as ACTUAL cases and ACTUAL deaths attributable to COVID-19.

CNN declared war on Donald Trump and waged this war for four-straight years by way of merciless propaganda.

In 1980, an anonymous group erected a mysterious stone structure in the United States which prioritized their stated desires starting thusly: “Maintain humanity under 500,000,000 in perpetual balance with nature.”

[the world’s population at the time was 4.43 billion (meaning that this anonymous group thought there were about 4 billion excess humans on the planet)]

In 1910, seven men met in utmost secrecy just off the coast of the United States on Jekyll Island to plan what would become the Federal Reserve System.

Georgia.

Jayne Mansfield was, in all likelihood, a Satanist.

She died when the car in which she was traveling crashed into the back of a tractor-trailer just east of New Orleans.

Did Hitler have tinnitus?

20 July plot.

Operation Valkyrie.

1944.

Could we call those Nazis heroes?

They tried to assassinate Hitler with plastic explosives.

It failed.

But they fucked up his ears.

Kevin Spacey embodies evil in this film (and some might say, in real life).

I avoided watching this film for a long time…strictly because Spacey was in it.

It is well known that he took a trip to Africa aboard Jeffrey Epstein’s “Lolita Express”.

Sexual assault charges have been filed against Spacey by multiple people.

And multiple accusers have subsequently died.

If there is such a thing as the New World Order (some might just call it the Bilderberg Meetings), then Kevin Spacey might well be the most thoroughly-connected Hollywood actor.

It’s just a hunch.

But one thing is certain: Kevin Spacey possesses an amazing thespian talent.

Which brings us to another point.

Do we have to approve of the lifestyles of artists?

Not necessarily so.

I love Pablo Picasso’s work.

I don’t judge his work based on the details of his life.

So I am somewhat remiss to say: Kevin Spacey is brilliant in this film.

And if he be evil in real life, then he had no problem channeling that force for this role.

For he is, undoubtedly, the villain.

And yet, he is human.

There is shading.

Like a Dostoyevsky character.

No one is completely good.

And no one is completely bad.

Which brings us back to war.

We must respect our enemies.

If they indeed demand our respect.

If the Central Intelligence Agency was to have a primary asset in Hollywood, that asset might very well be Kevin Spacey.

Again, just a hunch.

And so we can appreciate brilliance.

Brilliance in conception.

Brilliance in execution.

There are many battlefields.

Many geometric planes on which to do battle.

Kevin Spacey is an infinitely-talented actor.

It is almost scary how deft he truly is.

This movie may have saved my romantic relationship.

My engagement.

On again after four hellish days of arguments.

Because music saves us.

And we make music.

There is a connection which no one can get at.

Our DNA is musical.

Thinking back to Jayne’s measurements.

And songs I’ve written.

A timely shock of hair.

A jawline.

A purity.

Thank you for your service.

Few industries are as sick and corrupt as the acting and music industries.

I know the latter firsthand.

There’s no such thing as a former KGB man.

When life was carefree in Austin, Texas.

Before Antifa ruined it.

Anything was possible.

Everything.

Summer nights.

Potential bursting from every moment.

A sensual heaviness to the air.

Humidity.

Crickets.

The 2020 election was stolen.

And Georgia was centerstage.

Ruby Freeman got caught.

On film.

And (apparently) paid no price.

But this travesty gave us at least one American hero: Lin Wood.

And now L. Lin Wood stands as one of the few remaining beacons in the darkness which has settled over America.

But there were other heroes.

Like Jesse Morgan.

What happened to his truck-full of ballots that he transported from Bethpage, New York to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania?

His truck disappeared.

The 2020 election was a heist of the most grand proportions.

Analog, digital…you name it.

Ask Phill Kline what happened to that truck.

Ask Anthony Shaffer.

The Amistad Project tried to preserve “one person, one vote” in America.

So far, not a single court in the land (post-election) has had the guts to look at the evidence.

And the evidence is embarrassingly-copious.

Jamie Foxx is excellent in this film.

Don’t underestimate the thug.

Street smarts and book smarts differ.

The latter can earn you a living.

The former can keep you alive.

Staying alive in the world of crime and secrecy (a deadly combination) is no small feat.

Especially when the stakes are high.

For criminals, cops are bad.

Unless the cops are corrupt.

In which case, the cops may very well be working to supply the criminals (among other things).

Which makes me think of the highly-questionable Eric Holder.

And the genre this movie emerges from.

A franchise and a genre.

Fast and furious.

We are the scum that keep it alive.

We are the 7 billion people who will not make the cut alluded to in the Georgia Guidestones.

But romance continues in war.

As love is more desperate.

And each moment savored more so.

A morsel here.

There.

We get bold.

Nerds of the world.

Quiet.

Wallflowers.

Desperate times.

Measured.

Yes, we have no bananas.

Just writing songs.

A potential deserter.

Every man has his breaking point.

Ansel Elgort is also brilliant in this film.

Edgar Wright may be the most important film director working in the world today.

This film is a masterpiece.

The problem is (and it’s hardly a problem), all his films are masterpieces.

I watch them repeatedly.

Wright is truly an auteur.

He is truly an indispensable filmmaker.

I didn’t GET that at first.

Just like I didn’t GET the first Grinderman record when it came out.

Some things take time.

Each artist has their own language.

You must first learn the language.

Maybe you can only run so long.

Which is why an army is not one man or one woman.

That day will come when you are not so lucky.

If you only have one memory.

It is priceless.

Can bad people do a good turn?

Yes.

And we pray that they see the light.

Can quiet nerds be bad motherfuckers?

You better believe it.

But they never stop being (simultaneously) fragile.

It is a tenuous balance.

Breathe on it and it collapses.

Yet no hurricane could shake it.

Love.

Chase it.

Fight for it.

Enjoy it.

Be thankful.

Seek it.

God is love.

We must reward those who stick with us.

It is the sweetest honey.

Death is certain.

Life is optional upon participation.

God bless.

-PD

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Casque d’Or [1952)

This is one of my favorite films ever made.

Maybe Jacques Becker was just a minor auteur, but he holds a large place in my heart because of this film.

It’s what we can’t have in life.

Who.

Back that reification up.

The pretty blond.

The girl will pay us no mind.

Because we are just carpenters.

Workers.

No, even lower than that.

We are failed workers.

It makes you wonder whether Hitchcock felt most alienated from the objects of his desire while directing them?

There’s that reification again.  Thingification.

If we’re learned anything from Marxism, it’s that.

Humans are not “its”.

But our language is structured to make them so.

Blonde on blonde.

Perhaps a pickguard on a Telecaster.

Even in black and white we can tell that Simone Signoret is a blond.

Her beauty is flooring.

Serge Reggiani had to play the role of a traitor in Les Portes de la nuit, but here he is the hero.

The perfect friend.

Faithful.

Criminals stick together.

A code.

And it is touching.

Because the code can bite the big cheese in the ass.

Different systems of justice.

The criminals don’t call the police.

Justice is swift.

It’s all a bit savage.

But how else should we describe the heart in love?

Here we see Reggiani maddeningly in love.

Fatal beauty.

Simone Signoret.

With her hair helmet.

Completely lost in translation.

Everyone has a mustache here.

Maybe that’s why I can relate.

Reggiani plays a schmuck like me.

And it works.

Someone falls in love with him.

All he has to do is be himself.

But most of all this film shows the sadness of love.

All the many things that can go wrong.

The tunnel vision.

The heroic focus.

The jealousy of spectators.

Two in love.

Why can’t they be let alone?

To be happy.

Les Apaches.

“un dégueulasse”

Here it is again.

Just as À bout de soufflé passed on some fashion (garments) to C’est arrivé près de chez vous, so too Casque d’Or hurls that word at a key moment.

 dégueulasse…
Could have.  Should have.  Would have.
Métro, boulot, dodo.
As long as we try, we can rest our minds.
We have fought courageous battles of love.
Perhaps we have lived to fight another day.
The soldier must always retain optimism.
When faced with survival all alone.
In the middle of nowhere.
-PD

 

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M [1931)

Perhaps we pay too much attention to the story.

We all love a good story.

But the mark of the genius filmmaker may be found in their method of narrative.  The art of how they tell their stories.

To be quite honest, I wasn’t thrilled to return to this Fritz Lang masterpiece, but I’m glad I did.

It is very much how I feel about Hitchcock’s Psycho.  It is a wonderful film, but it’s not something I want to throw on once a week during the course of kicking back.

M, like Psycho, is a supremely tense film.  Nowadays, when we think of Hitchcock, we might reflect on his tastefulness.  Think about it (says Jerry Lee).  In Hitchcock’s day (a long, productive “day”), things which are now shown with impunity were positively disallowed for a Hollywood filmmaker.  Blood and guts…no.  Hitchcock was forced to artfully suggest.

The strictures guiding Fritz Lang (29 years earlier) were even more conservative.  But even so, M is a genuinely terrifying movie.

Terrifying films are rarely relaxing.  They are not meant to be.

But as I had seen this one before, I was able to focus more on the method employed by Lang.  The truth is, M is a masterpiece.  It really is the treatment of a brute subject (murder) with incredible subtlety.

What is most radical about M is its counterintuitive take on crime.

Within this film, crime is divided into capital and noncapital offenses.

In M, a band of criminals exists which seeks to put a serial killer out of business.  It may seem a strange turn of phrase, but this killer is bad for the business of other criminals (mainly thieves and such).

A town in terrorized.  The police regularly raid establishments.  You must have your “papers” with you at all times.

And so those who survive on crime are so desperate as to adopt (temporarily) the same goal as the police:  catch the killer.

It is not giving much away to tell you that Peter Lorre is the killer.  This is not a whodunit.  It’s a “what’s gonna happen”.  That I will leave to your viewing pleasure.

While I am on the subject of Lorre, let me just say that this is one of the finest, weirdest performances in cinema history.  The final scene is one of absolutely raw nerves.  Lorre is not the cute, vaguely-foreign character he would become in The Maltese Falcon or Casablanca.  Lorre is stark-raving mad.

His attacks of psychosis are chilling to observe.  But really, it is his final outburst which tops any bit of lunacy I’ve ever seen filmed.

Today there would likely be plenty of actors ready to play such a macabre role, but in 1931 this was a potential death wish.

That Lorre put his soul into it tells us something important about him.  First, he was capable of being more than a “sidekick” (as he was in the previously-mentioned Bogart films).  Second, he was dedicated to the art of acting.  Lorre was not “mailing it in”.  Playing such a role can’t be particularly healthy for one’s mental state.

But there’s a further thing.  His final monologue is filled with such angst.  Let us consider the year:  1931.  In the midst of the Great Depression.

But also we must consider the country:  Germany.  These were the waning years of the Weimar Republic.  Three important dates would end this democratic republic:  Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor (Jan. 30, 1933), 9/11 the Reichstag fire (Feb. 27, 1933), and the Enabling Act (Mar. 23, 1933).

The era of M (1931) was the era of Heinrich Brüning’s “deflationary” monetary policy as German Chancellor.  I put deflationary in quotation marks because Wikipedia’s current description might better be termed contractionary monetary policy.

As Wikipedia would tell it, Brüning was essentially instating fiscal austerity (that hot-button term of recent times) concomitantly with the aforementioned monetary approach.  This was, of course, the failure which paved the way for Adolf Hitler to take control of Germany.

And so we find that the historian Webster Tarpley is right when he refers to certain modern-day policy makers as austerity “ghouls”.  Either conservative/fascist leaders across the globe have no grasp of history, or they are looking forward with anticipation to the next Hitler or Mussolini.

It should be noted that Tarpley is coming from a socialist perspective rooted in the Democratic Party of FDR.  His opposition, therefore, would likely brand him as liberal/communist and through slippery-slope logic see the policies he espouses as paving the way for the next Stalin or Mao.

And so goes the political circus…ad nauseam.

Returning to film, we must at least consider this situation in Germany.  The country was still paying war reparations from WWI (though this was becoming impossible because of the internal economic woes).

What is perhaps most astonishing is how much Peter Lorre’s character prefigures the Hitler caricature which has come down to us from history.

War-based societies have a compulsion to kill.  Germany found out the hard way that this is not a healthy default.  Sadly, today’s Germany has not checked the most warmongering modern country on Earth (the United States) enough to make any difference.

The United States has, for a long time now, been breathing…seething for a war.  The “masters of war” are all wearing suits.  Only suits want to go to war.  A true warrior does not want war.  Only those who will go unscathed actively invite war.

But there is an insanity in suits.  A compulsion.  Don’t let the suit fool you.  A suit is, for us grown-ups, the equivalent of a piece of candy…or an apple…or a balloon for a child.  A suit advocating war is saying, “Keep your eyes on my suit.  I know best.  Trust in me.  Look at my impressive degree.”

The suits like places such as Raven Rock Mountain.  The suits won’t be on the battlefield.  And don’t let the 10% who actually fought in a war fool you:  they were in non-combat operations.  Their daddies made sure of it.

So keep your eyes open for the M of American cinema.  Who is the next fascist to take the stage?  Hitler had a Charlie Chaplin moustache.  How dangerous could he be?  Trump has a ginger comb-over.  Surely he’s harmless, right?

 

-PD

 

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