Ukraine is Not a Brothel [2013)

2013, eh?

What happened the next year?

Let’s get our organizations straight.

Because, as this documentary elucidates, the money just COMES IN.

Anonymous.

[a story for another time]

Is George Soros a “fan” (benefactor) of FEMEN?

You bet your damn ass he is.

But as a wise person has said: it is not what we know in our gut, but what we can prove that matters.

When it comes to tracing transnational, criminal conspiracies (aka “color revolutions”).

What happened in Ukraine in 2014?

Let’s meet our players (and their ilk).

FEMEN.

Ukrainian.

Фемен.

Lots of similarities between Russian and Ukrainian language.

But don’t trust me.

Try Duolingo.

Wanna read Russian news?

I do.

Because our news (the bullshit aggregated on Drudge Report) is globalist propaganda.

I want a new propaganda (to dérive Huey Lewis).

Wanna read something other than Russia Today (RT), ITAR-TASS (aka TASS), Pravda, or Sputnik (all four of these are good sources)?

Then you’re gonna have to learn Russian.

And this conflict ain’t going anywhere.

Unless we all get incinerated (which I would say there’s about a 30% chance of right now…as things stand).

So sound out your Cyrillic.

FEMEN.

I almost stopped watching this film as soon as I heard the word “patriarchy”.

Dog whistle for “Marxist moron philosophy to shortly follow”.

But I stuck it out.

For you guys.

And not because the tits were that great.

Because they weren’t.

Relocated to Paris (as this film delineates).

Founded in Ukraine.

Famous for their activities in Ukraine.

Anna Hutsol.

Looks like a fucking man.

But kinda cute.

Murmansk.

Oh, to be a professional “activist”.

Have you seen these cunts (men too!) on Twitter?

They have the word “activist” in their bios.

What kind of Jane Fonda imbecile would self-identify with that word?

And think about this.

Those cigarettes they are smoking (these “activists”)…some poor schmuck in the Philippines is paying for that with his donation.

Or, more likely, George Soros routed some money through multiple shell organizations to pay for those cigarettes.

Why?

To destabilize Ukraine.

Why?

To, in turn, destabilize Russia.

It’s the kind of bullshit our CIA does.

Which begs the question:  does George Soros work for the CIA?

Indeed, does George Soros OWN the CIA?

What about Klaus Schwab?

Does the CIA work for Klaus Schwab?

Officially?

Unofficially?

In essence?

Anna Hutsol.

Jewish (big surprise).

An “economist”.

Yeah, right.

And I’m an architect.

I have to hand it to FEMEN in one sense.

They are masters of public relations and publicity.

Much like Fauci, er, Zelensky.

FEMEN does not seem to be too knowledgeable about prostitution (the traditional kind…not philosophical prostitution [they are masters of that!]) in Ukraine.

So let’s help them out.

You gotta go back a little bit.

To the first “white slavery” in Europe.

To Belgium.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_slave_trade_affair

Frame of reference.

Why did Putin invade Ukraine?

Demilitarization (to protect Russia and ethnic Russians in Ukraine [the latter of which are being subjected to genocide in Donbass at the hands of the neo-Nazi Ukrainian goverment {courtesy of the Ihor Kolomoyskyi/Igor Kolomoisky/Kolomoysky-funded neo-Nazi Azov Battalion}]).

https://www.newsweek.com/evidence-war-crimes-committed-ukrainian-nationalist-volunteers-grows-269604

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https://www.reuters.com/article/idUS60927080220150505

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Denazification (to protect the Russian-speaking population of Ukraine who are being subjected to genocide [as outlined in objective #1]).

Destruction of U.S.-funded biolabs.

Human trafficking (stopping the cesspool Ukraine from providing girls [many underage] to the illegal sex trafficking industry both in Europe and around the world).

DDDH.

Demilitarization Denazification Destruction (of biolabs) Human trafficking (interdiction).

This final point (the interdiction of human trafficking occurring in and emanating from Ukraine) has not, as far as I’m aware, been thus far ideated by the Kremlin.

But it goes without saying.

The same forces (Kolomoysky) that fund the neo-Nazi Azov Battalion are likely to have their fingers in the human trafficking (sex trafficking) pie.

Kolomoysky is Jewish.

Yet he materially supports (funds) the neo-Nazi Azov Battalion.

Does that strike you as strange?

Does it make you rethink your assumptions about Jewish “choir boy” (cantor) Zelensky???

I am not accusing Kolomoysky of doing anything other than being guilty of being (a Jewish) funder of neo-Nazis in Ukraine.

But I will say this:  it appears that a good many Ukrainian girls end up as sex slaves in Israel.

You decide.

HistorySlavery

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https://t.me/deathwishpauly

Sacha Baron Cohen can joke in his TV series Who is America? about Eastern European girls being smuggled en masse into Assad’s Syria aboard yachts.

Is it because this activity is common knowledge?

Why did Sacha Baron Cohen take the role of Mossad spy Eli Cohen in The Spy?

Strange role, no?

Is SBC a dual-citizen?

Why has he become so humorless as of late?

He’s become [drumroll] an ACTIVIST.

How disgusting.

And how strikingly-similar to Jim Carrey.

It’s almost like these guys are nervous about something.

What.

Were they hanging with Epstein on Little Saint James?

Or at Zorro Ranch??

Or on Lolita Express???

Let’s get back to what FEMEN never once (!) talks about in this titty-flashing movie.

Their ostensible raison d’être.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_trafficking_in_Ukraine

There is an effort to hide this.

As if Ukraine is more advanced–more civilized when it comes to stopping sex trafficking (when exactly the opposite is the case [as Putin knows, it is the epicenter–the cesspool on his doorstep]).

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IMG_7974

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The Thailand of Europe.

Sure.

Czechia has problems too.

But Ukraine appears to be ground zero in Europe (as regards the number of young women and girls [and boys!]) that they supply to the international illegal sex trade.

Buying and selling persons.

Remember James Alefantis and his Instagram?

What were those strange pictures of porcelain dolls with price tags?

Why post that?

And those pictures of stacks of rubber-banded Euros?

Why post that?

Some kind of joke??

I kinda don’t think so.

It may be a joke (funny to the author [Alefantis]), but it is not truly in jest.

…but I digress.

https://dcpizzagate.wordpress.com/

Stay.  On.  Target.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sex_tourism_in_Ukraine

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Anna Hutsol was detained by the FSB (Russian security service) in November 2012.

The year before this film was released.

And a mere two years before the U.S. government and a George Soros NGO engineered the coup in Ukraine.

The “revolution of dignity”.

They had already had the “orange” revolution.

Running out of colors.

And “revolution of dignity” sounds slightly less-absurd than “chartreuse” revolution.

Anna Hutsol was deported from Russia upon attempting to enter the country via Saint Petersburg in November 2012.

Deported back to Paris.

Her point of departure.

Soon afterwards, the homegrown FEMEN would leave Ukraine for France.

Anna Hutsol was denied asylum in Switzerland.

Because she is a political operative.

And not a genuine refugee.

That is plain to see.

By 2013, FEMEN was featured in multiple films (including the French television production Nos seins, nos armes!, the documentary Everyday Rebellion, and the film currently under consideration).

Indeed, three films came out on FEMEN the same year:  2013.

The year before the U.S. (Victoria Nuland and Geoffrey Pyatt acting as point people [not to mention John McCain]) overthrew the government of Ukraine.

In 2014, a fourth FEMEN documentary appeared (Je suis FEMEN):  fourth in two years.

Was this group really that inspiring?

Did any of these filmmakers (our director Kitty Green, Caroline Fourest, Nadia El Fani, Arash T. Riahi, Arman Riahi, and/or Alain Margot) receive funding from any NGOs?

If so, which NGOs?

They wouldn’t happen to be Soros (and/or Schwab) -connected, would they?

Oksana Shachko died in 2018.

In Paris.

She was only 31.

Unlike Hutsol, she was actually born in Ukraine.

Hutsol moved to Ukraine from Russia at age seven.

Shachko hung herself.

Ostensibly.

She was from Western Ukraine.

This is important.

This is where arch-Ukrainian-Nazi Stepan Bandera was from.

Shachko went from wanting to be a nun (age 12?) to becoming an atheist (age 14).

What caused such a precipitous change in this young Ukrainian woman between the years 1999-2001?

It was likely her enrollment in the free university of Khmelnytsky at age 13.

That’s where she appears to have been met with radical feminist indoctrination.

Keep in mind, FEMEN has not only spawned documentaries.

There are also tomes by the likes of Galia Ackerman, etc.

It is purported that the “security forces” of Vladimir Putin attacked Shachko multiple times.

When?

Where?

How?

How was this proven?

Where is the proof that Putin sent anyone after her?

What was Shachko’s relationship with the French group Front National?

[now known as National Rally]

Shachko had a solo art exhibition in Paris in 2016.

In 2019, it was reported in Elle that this was not Shachko’s first attempt to hang herself.

Alexandra Shevchenko was also born in Ukraine.

Also in Western Ukraine (the land of Ukrainian Nazi Stepan Bandera).

It should be noted that Hutsol, Shachko, and Shevchenko all grew up in the same town:  Khmelnytskyi.

Population:  approximately 275,000.

There was a FEMEN protest in Moscow against Vladimir Putin in December 2011.

FEMEN have protested in Belarus.

Also in 2011.

Inna Shevchenko (not to be confused with Alexandra) cut down a Christian cross in Kiev with a chainsaw in 2012.

Now where have we seen that activity before?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=uHMHPQY3BmE

Incidentally, Shachko appears in this film in a hat with a cutesy-pink hammer and sickle on it.

Kitsch?

Or do these morons want to go back to communism???

Inna was born in Ukraine.

In Kherson (in the south).

A Black Sea port.

In 2013, Inna was granted asylum in France.

When was the Orange Revolution (about which I spoke earlier)?

2004.

In the aftermath of an election followed by claims of corruption and electoral fraud.

Sound familiar?

What happened?

The Supreme Court (of Ukraine) ordered a revote.

Americans were not so lucky.

Our SCOTUS is itself obviously corrupt.

Hence their inaction on the 2020 election (which Trump clearly won).

So we are now stuck with bumbling dictator Biden.

Mandate Biden.

What other colors of revolution have there been?

Let’s line them up:

Philippines “Yellow Revolution”:  1986

Papua New Guinea “Coconut Revolution”:  1988-1998

Czechoslovakia “Velvet Revolution”:  1989

Yugoslavia “Bulldozer Revolution”:  2000

Georgia (Tbilisi) “Rose Revolution”:  2003

Georgia (Tbilisi) “Second Rose Revolution”:  2004

Ukraine “Orange Revolution”:  2004-2005

Iraq “Purple Revolution”:  2005

Kyrgyzstan “Tulip Revolution”:  2005

Lebanon “Cedar Revolution”:  2005

Kuwait “Blue Revolution”:  2005

Belarus “Jeans Revolution”:  2006

Myanmar “Saffron Revolution”:  2007

Malaysia “Yellow Rally”:  2007-2016

Moldova “Grape Revolution”:  2009

Iran “Green Revolution”:  2009-2010

Kyrgyzstan “Melon Revolution”:  2010

Tunisia “Jasmine Revolution”:  2010-2011

Egypt “Lotus Revolution”:  2011

Bahrain “Pearl Revolution”:  2011-2014

Yemen “Yemeni Revolution”:  2011

China “Chinese Jasmine Revolution”:  2011

Russia “Snow Revolution”:  2011-2013

[notice that China and Russia (who are now aligned due to moronic U.S. foreign policy) were hit back to back:  coincidence?  I don’t fucking think so.]

Macedonia “Colourful Revolution”:  2016

Armenia “Velvet Revolution”:  2018

Lebanon “October Revolution”:  2019-present

Bolivia “Pitita Revolution”:  2019

Belarus “Slipper Revolution”:  2020-present

Do you notice how the USA isn’t on there?

It should be.

I would call it Coronariots.

Inna and Alexandrea Shevchenko are not related.

How did these two meet?

On VK, of course! [VKontakte (Russian social media platform)]

Enter DJ Hell.

Inna was arrested in Enschede, Netherlands for cutting down “wooden” (read Christian) crosses.

She was protesting the arrest of Pussy Riot (remember this name).

Inna got asylum in France in 2013.

Le Figaro‘s Saturday supplement Madame Figaro named Inna as one of the world’s most iconic women in December 2012.

Inna thinks that “homophobes” and “fascists” are “extremists”.

She lumps them all together.

But are FEMEN “extremists”?

The implication is, “Of course not.”

Indeed.  

To watch these women flail like LeBron James when they are arrested only attests to the hysteria that drives their actions.

They are performers.

And not very entertaining ones.

They are shrill.

Annoying.

And most certainly guilty of (were it to be directed at any other religion but Christianity) hate crimes.

Desecration.

Sacrilege.

In 2015, Inna was speaking in Copenhagen.

She was discussing the “illusion” of “freedom of speech” in Western Europe.

As she was speaking, a terrorist opened fire in the lobby.

Wikipedia leaves out the identity and motivation of this terrorist.

Was he (oh, I don’t know) MUSLIM???

And if so, was he acting AGAINST these fucking stupid stunts of FEMEN?

I would say that the probability is not negligible.

Inna once stripped nude on Al Jazeera before the feed was cut.

But the context was particularly appalling.

The interviewer had just asked, “Which is better for women, nudity or the paranja?”

Paranja = Central Asian version of burqa

This is very offensive.

This is offensive to Arabic speakers.

This is offensive to Muslims.

Why should a non-Arab, non-Muslim such as Inna be granted “asylum” in France for pulling these kinds of stunts worldwide?

Why doesn’t she and her band of merry strippers stay in Ukraine and fight for the rights of women and girls?

Why not?

Because they don’t fucking care.

Because FEMEN are fake.

They are a tool.

A can opener.

If it isn’t Soros slipping money into their bank account, it is someone of that ilk.

All of these “color revolutions” need a spark.

Strangely, the list above (from Wikipedia) also doesn’t include the “Revolution of Dignity” which occurred in Ukraine in 2014.

These are the infamous Euromaidan protests.

Much more violent than the Orange Revolution (where only one person died [of a heart attack]).

2004.

2014.

The revolution was restarted.

Tried again.

Inna Shevchenko studied journalism.

Can you guess who has published her?

CNN, Huffington Post…

Inna is apparently against all religion (like the late-Shachko):  Christianity, Islam, Judaism, etc.

Those are the only ones she singles out.

What about Buddhism?

Hiduism?

No mention of those.

Only the Abrahamic religions seem to be in her sights.

Inna seems to be fighting religion more than she is fighting sex trafficking.

I thought, “Ukraine is not a brothel”?

Maybe ease up on bashing religions and do some fucking research about sex trafficking.

And if you have done the research, Inna, then fucking talk about it!!!

Instead of just shooting your mouth off about how RELIGION is so oppressive to women.

What about the Ukrainian women and girls who are sold as sex slaves?

Do you think they wake up every day thinking how oppressive RELIGION is???

Of course not.

FEMEN are fucking fakes!

Yana Zhdanova.

Donetsk Oblast.

One founder from Eastern Ukraine.

One from Southern Ukraine.

And three from Western Ukraine.

Yana and other members of FEMEN were expelled from Turkey in 2012.

Maybe if FEMEN had remained in Ukraine (and had stayed focused on helping rape victims, for instance) they would actually be making a positive difference in the world?

As it is, they are just being used by their backers (funders).

FEMEN made their pro-abortion stance clear in April 2012 with their protest in the bell tower of Saint-Sophia cathedral in Kyiv.

Another moronic stance.

A death cult.

And the strumpet cheerleaders of this death cult.

Do you think dead little babies are cool?

Apparently FEMEN do.

They want to HELP women by making sure women can KILL their unborn children.

That is not revolutionary.

It’s stupid.

It’s not noble.

It’s disgusting.

As you might expect, FEMEN seem to particularly despise Lukashenko (President of Belarus).

This is somewhat understandable.

Was Lukashenko installed by way of a rigged election?

Many say he was.

I do have sympathy for electorates whose voices have been squelched by election fraud.

But once again, FEMEN make no sense.

WHY don’t they like Lukashenko?

The reason is not apparent in their ill-thought-out slogan, “Respect, KGB, UEFA.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

In other news, there is a mosque in Kyiv.

Back to Lukashenko, at least FEMEN got their point across with the slogan, “Stop Dictator”.

They have a point.

Lukashenko has been President of Belarus since 1994.

That is a bit long.

28 years.

But Belarus has had to deport FEMEN on a notorious occassion.

It was rather brutal.

But the message from the Belarussian KGB was clear:

“don’t come to our fucking country.”

Did FEMEN come back?

No.

FEMEN really hate Christianity.

Their protests in Ukraine make this clear.

Why protest the 1025th anniversary of Orthodox Christianity in Kyivan Rus’?

Why not protest sex trafficking??

I thought, “Ukraine is not a brothel”???

Protesting Christianity is the kind of bullshit Klaus Schwab would support.

Or ethnic Jew George Soros (who doesn’t believe in God [according to his 60 Minutes interview with Steve Kroft]).

My guess is that Soros and Schwab want to dispense with religions.

Because religions involve morality.

Ethics.

And these communist eco-Nazis (Schwab and Soros) will not be able to effect their Great Reset without seriously weakening organized religions.

But guess what?

They already did.

What was closed down for much of the past two years in the USA?

Churches.

What was open?

Casinos, etc.

In December 1, 2013, Yana protested in front of the Ukrainian embassy in Paris (a country which gave her asylum in 2014…apparently urinators need protection from those upon whose images they urinate) by urinating on photos of Victor Yanukovych.

Yanukovych would be overthrown in a U.S.-led coup the following year (as evidenced by the leaked phone call between Victoria Nuland and Geoffrey Pyatt).

Three weeks after peeing on Yanukovych in Paris, Yana went to Brussels where her slogan was, “Putin is the killer of democracy.”

What was “the great uniter” Joe Biden’s first act as President?

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/03/18/world/europe/russia-biden-putin-killer.html

Joe Biden absolutely went to the Rex Tillerson school of diplomacy.

Had Trump not fired Tillerson, the U.S. and North Korea would have fought a nuclear war during Trump’s Presidency.

In 2012, Yana attacked the patriarch Kirilll of Moscow and all of Russia at the airport in Kyiv.

What an offense!

Let’s be clear.

These dumbass “smash the patriarchy” bitches are not being metaphorical.

They actually want to deprive Russian Orthodox Christians of their dignity.

Imagine if the current Pope wasn’t a communist cocksucker.

What if Yana had attacked him?

Even so.

It’s one thing to call someone a “communist cocksucker”.

It’s another to physically assault him.

I have no love or respect for Pope Bergoglio.

Because he is a fucking sellout.

He is a goddamned communist prick.

But I would never attack him physically.

I do, however, reserve my right to insult him in writing.

I love Catholics.

I am a Christian.

Make of that what you want.

I reserve the right to rail against false idols such as Pope Bergoglio in a manner commensurate to the prophets of old.

I’m not a prophet.

I’m not overturning a table in the synagogue.

But I will tell you this:  Jesus was a bad motherfucker.

https://open.spotify.com/track/2qWeZD9gk2V3dmadKOUmeE?si=b707102754b04c0a

Wars happen.

Wars are fought.

There is a time to stand up.

Putin is, in my opinion (considering all the intel I have consumed), doing the right thing in Ukraine.

Putin is fighting against the insidious influence of globalist tools like FEMEN.

By the way, what was Yana’s slogan when she attacked the patriarch?

“Kill Kirill.”

What an insult.

Indeed, more than an insult.

A threat of violence.

An incitement to violence.

To anyone who heard those words.

An instruction.

I would never say such a thing about Pope Bergoglio.

I hope the Pope confesses his sins and turns from his communist cocksucking ways.

I understand shock value.

In this small sense, I respect FEMEN.

But in the grand scheme, I think what they are doing is evil.

Perhaps they are just stupid.

And greedy.

And vacuous.

Yana protested in Lithuania in 2013.

This was a key event in starting the Euromaidan protest.

These dumb bitches want to be a part of the European Union.

That’s why they flee their homeland and post up in Paris.

Meanwhile, they say very little about how Ukrainian girls and women are bought and sold across Western Europe and the world.

So these fucking bitches are fake-ass sellouts.

They just want the fame of protesting some dumb bullshit.

They suck Soros cock all day long.

Metaphorically, of course.

Because Soros has no cock to suck.

His demon cock fell off long ago.

Same with Satanist Schwab.

Speaking of Nazis…

https://unlimitedhangout.com/2021/02/investigative-reports/schwab-family-values/

And:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=OT1Qn6COp6Y

What is it with these Nazi Jews?!?

Do they think the Holocaust didn’t happen???

I think the Holocaust DID happen!

There!

Take that, you pricks!!

I think Nazis are the scum of the earth.

Fuck Nazis!!!

So what am I:

anti-semitic?

No, I don’t think so.

A white supremacist?

Nope, try again.

I’m just a dude who thinks the idea of super-rich Jews having benefitted from families who collaborated with the Nazis (Soros and Schwab) is disgusting.

And I think the idea of the 2nd or 3rd richest person in Ukraine (Igor Kolomoysky [also a Jew]) funding the neo-Nazi Azov Battalion that is committing genocide (the past eight years) against the Russian-speaking population of Donbass is disgusting.

Have these three Jews no shame?

Particularly Kolomoysky.

Soros has no control (nor any remorse) about how he went around with his fake godfather and confiscated the property of Jews during WWII.

Schwab seems to have no remorse about his father having profited immensely by being a Nazi collaborator in Germany during WWII (assuming the above link is accurate).

I am just scratching the surface with FEMEN.

The same can be done with Pussy Riot.

Or Marina Abramovic (who is “standing with Ukraine” [blech!]).

FEMEN and Pussy Riot are largely-interchangeable globalist tools.

Abramovic is their godhead.

These are not good people.

These are spirit-cooking, sick fucks.

This is not what Putin wants in his neighborhood.

And I don’t blame him.

LGBTQ, BLM, and Antifa are all globalist tools.

And their members (cult members) are useful idiots.

Dupes.

In 2014, Yana destroyed a wax figure of Putin in Paris (a country that gave her asylum [from what?!?] that same year).

Her message when she destroyed this wax figure of Putin?

“Kill Putin.”

Tell me, Yana, how does this message help the young women and girls of Ukraine who are being funneled into international sex trafficking rings?

How does “killing Putin” or “killing patriarch Kirill of Moscow” help young Ukrainian women and girls who have been SOLD and have ended up as sex slaves in places like Israel?

Does Putin run Israel?

I don’t think so.

Does Putin run the international sex trafficking market?

I don’t think so.

And if he does (and that is your message [which I doubt it is]), then prove it.

Get your feeble brain to log on to Mother Jones.

I don’t even care if the link is bullshit.

Just let me know why on earth you think killing Kirill and Putin will help young women and girls in Ukraine.

Are Kirill and Putin buying Ukrainian women and girls?

I kinda doubt it.

But I bet there are plenty of Parisians (your country of “asylum”) who are.

Plenty of rich French customers.

Is Paris a brothel?

Is France a brothel?

And where are the women and girls in those brothels from?

Not, perhaps, from your country which you abandoned (Ukraine)???

2014.

Yana vandalized the Vatican by taking the baby Jesus statue from the Nativity scene in front of Saint Peter’s Basilica while shouting, “God is woman.”

Yeah.

Great.

Real productive.

Hey Yana, you dumb bitch:

is the Holy Spirit male or female?

Think on that as that sweet Soros money rolls into the FEMEN bank account.

I agree with Yana and FEMEN on one point.

Bring on the titties!

I have no problem with women going topless.

That’s something I can get behind.

-PD

 

Last Night in Soho [2021)

First off.

I am in love with Thomasin McKenzie.

I think Saoirse Ronan has lost her touch.

Kat Dennings doesn’t even bother with films anymore.

And Thora Birch is too much of a liberal moron.

But then all actors are liberal morons, aren’t they?

Except for a precious few.

Jon Voight.

James Woods.

Rob Schneider.

Kirstie Alley.

Robert Davi.

Jim Caviezel.

Secondly.

This film is a masterpiece.

Edgar Wright is the best filmmaker in the world right now.

Is he better than Jean-Luc Godard?

No.

But Godard is not making films for mass consumption.

Is he better than Wes Anderson?

BY A MILLION FUCKING MILES!!!

Don’t get me wrong.

Wes Anderson made one perfect film.

And that film was The Grand Budapest Hotel.

And that film wouldn’t have been perfect without Saoirse Ronan.

That’s how important her presence in that film was.

Saoirse has made another perfect film.

Hanna.

But her others are mediocre.

Brooklyn.

Meh.

Lady Bird.

Even more meh (not a good thing).

Saoirse has gone astray.

Just as Thora Birch went astray.

Ghost World is a perfect film.

And American Beauty is close to perfect.

For my money, Homeless to Harvard is her other perfect film.

Kat Dennings films kinda suck.

Her masterpiece is actually 2 Broke Girls.

I’m serious.

But that’s not cinema.

Twin Peaks is cinema.

Even though it’s a TV show.

Histoire(s) du cinéma is the best film ever made.

And it was made for TV.

Homeless to Harvard is a Lifetime movie.

Made for TV.

It is not cinema.

Not exactly.

But it may be a perfect film.

Wes Anderson made his perfect film with Saoirse Ronan.

And he made a good film (Tenenbaums).

The rest are shite.

I did not understand Edgar Wright’s film language when I first saw Shaun of the Dead.

I thought it was crap.

How wrong I was!

Here is my contention.

Every Edgar Wright film is perfect.

Shaun of the Dead?

Yes.

Hot Fuzz?

Yes.

The World’s End?

Yes.

Baby Driver?

Yes.

Scott Pilgrim?

Yes.

And this film is perfect too.

But this is not quite the Wright you are used to.

This is a genuinely scary film.

But it stands up with Psycho, Rosemary’s Baby, and The Shining as one of the four best horror films ever made.

Edgar Wright films are all about detail.

But not the twee obsession with detail that Wes Anderson has.

Edgar Wright is overflowing with talent.

Wes Anderson is not.

Anderson needed Saoirse Ronan to make his perfect film.

And there was a bit (just a bit!) of grit in Grand Budapest.

Saoirse is missing from his other films.

And there is no real grit in any of the others.

Tenenbaums is good.

But the Wes Anderson players are tiresome.

Is Bill Murray amazing?

Yes.

But are his performances in Wes Anderson films his best work?

Absolutely not.

No more Jason Schwatzman (for fuck’s sake!).

Is Luke Wilson a great actor?

Yes.

What’s his best film?

Masked and Anonymous.

Maybe it’s Paltrow and Hackman which make Tenenbaums good.

For my money, Luke Wilson is the one who makes that film go.

But it is not on the same level as Grand Budapest.

Last Night in Soho is the Grand Budapest of the ’20s.

We’re in the ’20s now.

Are they roaring?

Like a fucking mouse.

Last Night in Soho is a gazillion times better than No Time to Die.

This film has everything the Bond film didn’t.

Substance.

Competent directing.

A story worth sticking with.

And so it is fitting that Diana Rigg’s last role should absolutely trump the death of James Bond.

The one George Lazenby film was WAY better than No Time to Die.

The death of love is more sad than the death of the hero.

Diana Rigg is the linchpin in the Bond franchise.

Pull that thread, and the sweater unravels.

Léa Seydoux is boring as fuck in the Bond films.

She was great in Blue.

But she was nothing compared to the one who carried that film (Adele Exarchopoulos).

Exarchopoulos made one perfect film.

Blue is the Warmest Color.

None of her other films are even good.

Wright makes what Youth in Revolt might have been.

He is not glib.

This is not a hipster film.

Michael Cera (who has made one perfect film [Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist]) is, mercifully, NOT in Last Night in Soho.

[correction…Kat Dennings DID make one perfect film]

Thomasin McKenzie’s obsession with ’60s London music is real.

It’s not a fucking Austin Powers joke.

Rita Tushingham is wonderful as Gram.

Excellent casting.

[take note, Bond franchise]

Thomasin hooks up with a black dude.

No big deal.

Take note, Bond franchise.

NOT EVERY FUCKING PERSON HAS TO BE BLACK IN ORDER FOR A FILM TO BE VIABLE!!!

Thomasin’s love interest is a black fellow.

I have no problem with that.

He does a good job.

For fuck’s sake…he doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page!

Michael Ajao.

Fine acting!

There can be important black characters WITHOUT A FILM BEING A WOKE FUCKING JOKE (like the recent Bond film).

No big deal.

Don’t make it a big deal.

It has to fit with the story.

The story is the most important thing.

The writers of the Bond film (Purvis and Wade) have allowed their name to be attached to the fucking pathetic shit of No Time to Die.

So you get a kiwi to speak in a Cornish accent.

GREAT ACTRESS!

Thomasin McKenzie.

Say that name with me.

Jacinda Ardern’s father (or mother?) was a horse.

Ugly bitch.

Ugly soul.

Thomasin McKenzie is the best thing to ever come out of New Zealand.

However, there has been one perfect kiwi movie:  Eagle vs Shark.

Synnøve Karlsen is so fucking annoying in Soho.

And she was supposed to be.

So, good job (I guess).

Every film needs a villain.

And Jocasta (Karlsen’s character) is the real villain of this film.

Thomasin is different.

Jocasta beats her down.

Mentally.

A stingy spirit.

Can never share in any of her joys.

Do you know anyone like that?

But Thomasin is troubled.

Hallucinations?

Maybe.

Seeing ghosts?

Maybe.

We’re trying to solve a case here.

Cold case.

Maybe a lot of cold cases.

Maybe a serial killer.

To the Belle and Sebastian bedsit.

Salad days are short-lived.

Don’t underestimate Sandie Shaw.

Always something there to remind me.

1964.

Puppet on a string.

Gotta pay your dues.

As a wind-up bird girl.

Brian Epstein.

Giorgio Gomelsky.

Andrew Loog Oldham.

ABKCO.

The influence of Vertigo upon Last Night in Soho cannot be understated.

The red of the Café de Paris.

The blonde of Anya Taylor-Joy’s hair.

And Thomasin’s hair.

[also, don’t underestimate Bergman’s Persona]

The glance to the side.

It’s not Jimmy Stewart.

It’s Thomasin.

Allusions to The Way of the Dragon and The Lady from Shanghai in the mirrors.

Sure, a bit of Pulp Fiction.

But that’s just for the kids.

Edgar Wright’s grasp of cinema history is way deeper than some Tarantino bullshit.

And yet, he likes zombies.

And shitty horror films from the ’80s.

I mean REALLY shitty, camp ones.

Slasher films.

Back to Vertigo.

Kim Novak’s apartment is bathed in green neon.

But Thomasin’s bedsit is a red, white, and blue homage to Godard.

An homage to Une Femme est une femme.

Dancing.

Dancing girls.

Prostitutes.

Vivre sa vie.

Pink dress fembot.

Pew pew.

Thomasin is way sexier than Anya Taylor-Joy.

Thomasin is the girl next door.

The frumpy hair of Homeless to Harvard.

I love it.

It must be this way.

To juxtapose the transition to Swinging Sixties glamour.

Is Trump just culture jamming with his vaccine tack?

Either that, or the hero has become the villain.

Did the D.C. swamp make Trump into a swamp zombie?

Maybe no one comes out clean.

International law was broken.

War crimes.

All these Wright films have zombies.

Or robots.

Faceless automatons.

A bit of Dragon Tattoo.

We all like a good microfiche scene!

Is Terence Stamp her father?

If Sandie is her mother?

Could be.

Otherwise, she would be the daughter of a prick.

But Stamp tried to save Sandie.

Arsenic and old lace.

The ones you never suspect.

Sicario.

“Buried” in the walls.

Decomposing.

Poe.

Gacy.

Wright’s “sympathy for the serial killer”.

What happened to these people that made them monsters?

Don’t underestimate Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451 (his only English-language film…and a flat-out masterpiece).

In the world of Edgar Wright, it is records.

Vinyl.

Not books.

And sometimes the elderly want to die with their memories.

They are not going anywhere.

They are not fleeing.

It’s been a good life.

Going down with the ship.

Up in flames.

The shitbags want their deaths avenged.

After all, they were just horny, well-to-do dads who needed a little excitement.

Prostitution.

It’s the law, after all.

Murder is murder.

Crimes of passion.

By reason of insanity.

Not guilty.

Not insane.

But traumatized.

But Thomasin has been on the adventure.

She knows what Sandie has been through.

Trump was abused for four years.

That is true.

And he fought like a champ.

Is there no justice?

Is it culture jamming (I ask again)?

Confusion.

Keeping his enemies off balance.

Getting a foot in the door.

Truth Social will censor “hate speech” with a Silicon Valley AI bot.

In order to get on Apple App Store and Google Play.

But the roll out is delayed?

Lie about the vaccines.

“Safe and effective”.

Move in for the kill shot.

Against whom?

Big Pharma and the New World Order.

But we have to call out serial killers for who they are.

If you are saying the COVID vaccines are “safe and effective”, you are spreading misinformation that is endangering the lives of those who hear and trust you.

CDC:  11,879

  IMG_6975

Open VAERS:  23,149

IMG_6976

IMG_6977

Neither safe,

https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/safety/adverse-events.html

https://openvaers.com/covid-data/mortality

nor effective.

https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-covid-deaths-2021-vaccines-b1963790.html

IMG_5785

10,000-20,000 vaccine deaths should be read as 100,000-200,000 vaccine deaths because of this:

https://www.bmj.com/rapid-response/2011/11/02/underreporting-vaccine-adverse-events

IMG_6468

IMG_6469

And correlation does not necessarily equal causation…unless this (peep the myocarditis…you think that’s all JnJ? [nigga please!]):

https://openvaers.com/covid-data

IMG_6981

But the election was stolen.

Or was it allowed to be stolen?

When will the other shoe drop?

Or does the other shoe even exist?

This charade is going to go on until 2024?

Maybe Sandie is not her mother.

-PD

Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai de Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles [1975)

Lots of commas.

And sub-clauses.

And finally Santa.

Enfin.

That something happens in this film is a miracle.

It is a monument of nothingness.  [hang on]

A monument of boredom.  [wait for it]

A truly glorious feminist film.  [truly]

Quite simply, this is one of the hardest films I’ve ever tried to watch (much less review).

I was familiar with the late Chantal Akerman’s style at least a bit.

[may she rest in peace]

Nothingness.  An obsession.

It’s closer to the Warhol end of the spectrum than Bergman.

Uncomfortable shots.  The time-image.

We don’t have time to read about the time-image. [Bergson]

Deleuze.  De loser.

We.  Miss out.

And so when we are thrust into a film such as this…

There ARE no films like this.

The nausea of which Sartre spoke.  Wrote.

I knew that Akerman admired Godard.

She was already in my good graces for that.

But I almost didn’t make it through this 3-hour-21-minute film.

From one J.D. to another.

Jeffrey Dahmer to Jeanne Dielman.

Dielman’s life is just as horrible.

She might as well work the 11 p.m. – 7 a.m. shift at a chocolate factory.

Belgium.

Every activity she caresses.  Like finest lace.

And so we see the Godard of Vivre sa vie.

That is the premise.

The “ooh-la-la”.

But it is much more Marina Vlady than Anna Karina.

2 ou 3 choses que je sais d’elle.

Washing dishes.  Interminably.

That lifeless, empty stare.

Perhaps it is Brecht.

Distancing.  Reality.  But symbolic.  Unreal.

Verfremdungseffekt.

Epic.  201 Dalmatian minutes.

Force the issue.

We dummies still worship Delphine Seyrig.

In the same way we worship Anamaria Marinca.

Because we’re sick of Western women…sick of soul-sucking Western culture.

Sick of the Easter bunny.  Sick of Santa Claus.

We want the East.  The Eastern bloc.

And further East.  Chinese acting.

Brecht.

Delphine from Saussure.

Cup and Saussure.

Such amazing acting by Seyrig.  To not act.

To act as if she wasn’t being watched.

To shine shoes and drop the brush.  [An event!  Here…]

To disturb the cream bottle.  Precariously returns.

To not apologize to the camera.

To get her apron caught…

The hardest button to button.

And the adrenaline-pounding rush of shopping for buttons.

Buttons.  Those little things which go through eyelets.

Like trying to find the correct shade of mauve.  All over town.

And so in the end it ends as an action film.

You think I kid.

But Akerman must have had a soft spot for Chabrol…(viz. Hitchcock).

Let’s play the quiet game for three hours…and see if it will drive you nuts.

Doniol-Valcroze pays a visit.

But it doesn’t matter.

What matters is the can of Ajax on the side of the tub.

The green and red.

Might have my brands wrong.

Tiny daggers of color.

Nowhere.

But there’s one.

 

-PD

 

青春残酷物語 [1960)

[CRUEL STORY OF YOUTH, (1960)]

Today was a bad day.

You would be shocked (dear readers) if I asserted the opposite.

No, there is no sugarcoating it.

But that’s ok. [Ah!]

Such anxiety.  Such fear.  Such trepidation.

Ah!  That wasn’t so bad.

But don’t breathe relief too soon.  [Sigh…]

We’re surrounded by morons.  Condescending illiterates.

A fistful of assholes.

Yes, that Japanese up there indeed does not read Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist.

Things fall apart.  Shit happens.  Sometimes, the shit hits the fan.

That is the story of Nagisa Oshima’s Cruel Story of Youth.

Seishun Zankoku Monogatari…that’s what it says.

Kinda like Ugetsu Mongatari (which I reviewed some time back).

物語

Epic.

And it is.  More or less.

The story of Mako and Kiyoshi.

No magical powers here.  This is like the Japanese version of À bout de souffle.

If we don’t understand French (and we don’t), then we really shouldn’t be fooling around with Japanese.

That is my 2 cents…me, and the royal we.

Inseparable.

Mako and Kiyoshi.

Will they survive this cruel world?

Perhaps they must be cruel themselves to survive it?

And perhaps only Kiyoshi (cool as Jean-Paul Belmondo) is cruel?

Mako is no Jean Seberg.

She might be a coquette, but she’s not une dégueulasse.

Our film followed on the heels of Godard’s Breathless by a mere four months.

And what about Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Breathless”?

It preceded Godard’s film by two years (1958).

Any one else out of breath???

How about those Japanese protestors?

They weren’t keen on the Anpo treaty.

[Treaty of Mutual Cooperation and Security between the United States and Japan]

Yeah, a mere 15 years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki…and Japan was a beaten nation.

Doubly beaten.

Because they joined hands with their brethren (us) who had so recently vaporized them.

And so no wonder people were protesting.

But we don’t see protests in movies.

Not real protests.  Not anymore.

In fact, Japan does not even exist for the U.S. anymore.

Japan is like a house cat.

Domesticated.

Japan protests nothing.

Their economy slides with ours.

They are between a rock and a hard place.

Seemingly forever.

It is a geopolitical fault-line.

In the film we see South Koreans protesting.

This ended long ago (for us brainwashed viewers in the West).

Only the Chinese protest.

Tiananmen Square.  1989.

And CNN had a bird’s-eye view of tank man.

A bit too perfect.

But yes:  every nation protests.

Except the well-behaved Japanese and South Koreans.

But what about these recent tremors?

Okinawa.

As recently as February of this year.

Just what is going on?

Anpo is that famously robust treaty…in effect longer than anything since the Peace of Westphalia (1648).

I am reminded of my most erudite friend’s knowing focus on the war which these treaties (a series in 1648) ended.

Thirty years.

It was a bad day for Mako.  Rape.

The valiant rapist.

What?

It is like Dostoyevsky.

Stick around and the plot thickens.

Buked and scorned by Yuki (the sister).

Youth…how cruel it is to be taken.

And then our lovers reenact The Kid with no windows (but plenty of stones).

But I’m most sad for Horio.

It’s the old man in me.

Finally the reification gets to be too much for Mako.

And a tear rolls down her cheek.  In her sleep.

Busy signal.  Pink Floyd’s The Wall.

Twenty years.

A cement mixer.

Is she?  No.  It can’t end like that!

“This ain’t prostitution…IT’S EXTORTION! (tortion)! (torsion)!”

They call them the diamond dogs.

Oshima with a shadow play.

Kiyoshi holds Mako in the foreground.

Aki implores Yuki in the background.

[And for subtitlers everywhere, please think before you use the phrase “for old time’s sake” in a Japanese film.]

In her polka dot dress with the leeks peeking from the grocery sack.

Blammo!

The futility of youth.

The grimy uncertainty…the shifting sands.

The idealism made to lick the city sidewalk.

The valiant rapist saint.

INRI.

Ecce homo.

And Mako, fragile, with a bloody cheek.

 

-PD

Les Misérables: Liberté, liberté chérie [1934)

Tonight, a miracle happened to me.

For a lonely film critic, that can mean only one thing:  love.

And so I thank GOd for a moment of happiness.

No, I am not drunk beyond syntactical awareness.

I am merely thinking of Catherine the Great.

1729-1796.

Russia.

Екатерина Алексеевна.

But then I am also thinking of the Panthéon.

Paris.

First came Mirabeau.

1791.

A mere three years.

And then Voltaire.

Ah!  Now we are getting somewhere!!

Émile Genevois, like Jonathan Donahue, thinks of “Little Rhymes” when he’s alone and scared.

This is the character Gavroche.

Sous les pavés, la plage.

Mai ’68.

And then the beautiful Marat in 1794.

And still Catherine lived.

Charlotte Corday died.  Aged 24.

Back on track with Rousseau.

The barricades.

Rue Saint-Denis.  From the June Rebellion of 1832 to the sex shops of 2016.

Prostitution.

Vive la République!

And then the dream of Catherine the Great (второй) came to an end.

Night falls…

Reality.

Yes, maybe it was Katharine Hepburn instead.

Too pure!

But what I’ve lived my life for.

Dedicated.

Misguided.

Recalibrated.

Sad but honest.

Just a simple car ride.

Like Homayoun Ershadi in طعم گيلاس

There is no putting any punctuation on that.

No catafalque of Lamarque.

Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude.

à son ami Franz Liszt

November Uprising.  1830.  1831.

Poland and Lithuania.

And back to that Russian Empire of Catherine (and Пётр before her).

It’s funny.

In Honegger we might hear shades of Tchaikovsky.

The Arabian Dance we know so well from The Nutcracker Suite.

Coffee.

Divertissement.

Act II (второй).

Tableau III.

It wasn’t a diacritical mark.  It was merely a speck of dirt on the screen.

In the half-light.

With cat eyes.

Pray to goD for another chance to hold the coins of long suffering.

Through the sewers of Paris.

I thank you for that blessing of weight lifted momentarily.

 

-PD

 

 

Les Misérables: Une tempête sous un crâne [1934)

Often when I watch films I am totally drained of energy even at the beginning.

Going into it.

And then a cinematic miracle will occasionally make me forget all about my exhaustion.

This is one of those times.

Thanks to director Raymond Bernard.

And thanks to the lead actor Harry Baur.

This is one of those films which can slip under the radar.

Mercifully, its four-hour-and-forty-minute running time is broken up into three parts.

That was, incidentally, also the mode of release in 1934.

The three parts apparently were shown in theaters by way of staggered releases (in the incredibly short time span of three weeks).

It is somewhat of an ingenious device.  I’m not familiar with another film to have received such a treatment.

This first section of Hugo’s novel is titled here Une tempête sous un crâne.

As you might expect, it is a particularly touching story.

It is certainly worth revisiting Les Misérables after seeing this first film.

The story is very heroic.  Harry Baur instills pride.  Proud to be human.

Few characters in life or fiction make such an impression.

The initial meeting with the priest is awe-inspiring.

As Jean Valjean says (in amazement), “I haven’t slept in a bed in 19 years.”

A real bed.  With sheets.  Like normal people.

Having been in jail.

His statement is a stunner.

I know that feeling.

As an artist.

I slept on a couch for years.

I slept on the floor.

We must remember that Valjean’s crime was stealing a loaf of bread.

Five years.

His four attempts to break out of jail extended his sentence by 14 years.

19 in total.

Hard labor.

All from stealing a loaf of bread.

And wanting to be free.

And then there is dear Fantine (played by Florelle).

A mother reduced to prostitution.

Sells her hair.  Sells her teeth.

All for her daughter Cosette.

It is reification in overdrive.

Finally, Fantine has nothing to sell but her body.

She has sold parts.

She stayed pure as long as she could.

She was tricked.

And an orphan to begin with.

So she ends up in a factory…playing the glass bead game…stringing cheap necklaces to keep her daughter alive.

And another pair of vultures (the Thénardiers) trick her more.

They rip her off.

Always more and more.

Just like modern life.

Modern times.

Les Temps modernes.

So we must remember Victor Hugo as an artist of conscience.

And Sartre…conscience.

Perhaps less artful.

And Barack Obama.

Completely artless, but still perhaps some conscience.

Let’s not underestimate the humanism of the Deferred Action for Parents of Americans (DAPA) program.

Sure, “the Guidance” was issued by Jeh Johnson (of Homeland Security).

Yes, the program is unlawful.

It is a new law.

That’s not the purview of the executive branch.

Yes, the plaintiffs are right in their invocation of the Take Care clause of the U.S. constitution.

But we must make sure to not misquote former Supreme Court Justice Tom Clark by omitting the final words of his famous quote:

“Nothing can destroy a government more quickly than its failure to observe its own laws…”  Which is to say, yes:  Judge Hanen…you are right.  Greg Abbott…you are right.  Republican states…you are right.  [I am speaking, of course, about the forthcoming Supreme Court decision on immigration…United States v. Texas.]

BUT…there’s more to Tom Clark’s quote…and it is often left out.  As Paul Harvey would have said, THAT’S the rest of the story.

Nothing can destroy a government more quickly than its failure to observe its own laws, OR WORSE, ITS DISREGARD OF THE CHARACTER OF ITS OWN EXISTENCE.

Which is to say:  the Democrats have the high moral ground here.

Let me clarify.

I hate Obama.  He’s a fake and a phony.

He had the opportunity to bring to real perpetrators of 9/11 to justice.

He didn’t.

That should have been job #1 after having wrested the White House from the maniacal neocon Bush junta.

Unfortunately, at the very deepest levels it seems that cabal never left.

Obama merely carried on the War on Terror charade (even going so far as to kill a dead man…the bogus bogeyman…Osama bin Laden).

But Obama and Jeh Johnson are right about DAPA.  MORALLY right.  Which doesn’t make their actions legal.  But I applaud the current administration for OSTENSIBLY caring about the people affected…the human beings…our illegal alien brothers and sisters.  They are, first of all, humans.  If they entered this country illegally, that is a secondary consideration.  They must always remain, first and foremost, HUMANS.

Yeah, Obama and friends most likely pulled off the Sandy Hook false flag.  That’s because the administration is, in general, a bunch of scumbags.

Speaking of presidents, Donald Trump is the only real candidate left.

Sure, he needs to slap himself in the face a few times and realize that Mexicans (among other immigrants from the south) and Muslims are people.  That’s a big hurdle for the Donald.

That’s the stumbling block.

Trump is winning because he’s the only one willing to admit that he’s a jerk.

His actions say it.

Hillary?  Secret jerk.

Cruz?  Thinly-veiled jerk.

Sanders?  Well-meaning jerk.

And then there’s the other jerk.  We’ll call him nice jerk.

Trump has won the rhetoric battle.

Now he needs to dial it back a little bit and find a soul.

I know he has one…deep down in there…somewhere.

Sanders is right about Snowden.  Trump has fumbled that one a bit.

But Trump is still the only one to address 9/11 with any sort of credibility.

That is priceless.

Can Donald “Jean Valjean” Trump turn it around and really make a positive difference?

I think he can, but he has to learn the lesson of the candlesticks…the silver…and the 40 sous.

It will be a tightrope.  The master bigot will have to convince a country of bigots that our humanity impels us to a higher moral standard.

That is Victor Hugo here…applied to the here and now.

 

-PD

 

 

Au Hasard Balthazar [1966)

If life has no meaning, then do not continue to the next sentence.

Thank you.

For those of you still reading.

You must excuse my reliance on 1/3rd of the trivium (to the detriment of the remainder).

It must be rhetoric which I employ.

Like a donkey.

No.

It doesn’t work that way.

But for those of us in poverty and misery.

How do we express our futile existences?

By affirming their meanings.

Their meaningfulness.

You have not worked your whole life for nothing.

You worked to survive.

But you survived for others.

You loved.  You cared.

You were curious.

Too curious to let the human race go.

And so, slow and easy does it goes [sic]…the autumn of your years.

Perhaps.

Another spring.

Hope.  Eternal.

Robert Bresson slips a note under our door.

A key.

At first viewing it is dull.  Ugly.

Like a donkey.

Yes.

But Bresson knew Beethoven.  Concision of expression.

Economy of means.

It is no wonder that we hear Schubert throughout this film.

And no wonder that Schubert is Philip Glass’ favorite composer.

Those ostinati.  Figured bass.

Even simpler than Alberti.

More like a rail fence transposition.

Or a Caesar shift cipher.

Ostinato.  Obstinate.

Like the donkey.

But I have patiently borne the humiliation.

I am still a youthful beast of burden.

And yet I know my hooves.

I am a genius.

A four-legged mathematician.

Give me three digits…and a single digit.

And I multiply.

I fecundate the field with feathery flowers.

Four digits.

Do I hear five?

With a memory like an elephant.

A stare like a tiger.

And a harangue like a polar bear.

But look how he shivers.

The donkey.

So humble as to not say a word.

Perhaps it was the wisdom of salt.

Salt of the earth.

A wise ass.

Yes, forever in trouble.  With my pride.

Getting kicked in the rump.

But these are really nasty assaults.

The other side of James Dean.

François Lafarge as Gérard is a real asshole.

Not enough love at home.

Feels a need to punch donkeys.

[pause]

Quite literally…the world comes to life through Bresson’s filmmaking.

Prostitutes pop up.

Pimps prance and preen.

But here we have “merely” sexual assault.

A first step in losing the ability to feel anything.

Numb.

And we have rape (through allusion, of course).

Gérard toots his horn.

Literally.

The other side of the James Dean coin.

The underside of Jean-Paul Belmondo.

A disproportionate riposte courtesy of the one filmmaker with the balls to be simple.

So simple.

On first glance it is nothing.

A donkey.

But live a few years.

And then revisit.

It is a novel.

It contains everything.

We can’t catch it because it doesn’t pop out at us in color.

One way would be to say that no one has ever looked more sad on screen than Anne Wiazemsky here.

Before Godard.

Perhaps a first conversation.

A nervousness.

It was through Wiazemsky that Bresson told this tale.

To teach the New Wave.

They hadn’t learned all the lessons yet.

He wasn’t done speaking.

The quiet tone of an old man…

I want to tell you more more more.

But this is best secret.

To appreciate the simple things.

Before they are gone.

The patient animals.

So gentle in their existence.

Not presuming.

Not running.  Not hustling.

The pack-animals.

We know this look.

In cats.  In dogs.

This wisdom.

We laugh at their carefree insolence.

But they have shown the way.

Such resilience!

Such love…

And we are taken in.

Our hearts are melted.

Yes.

Few moments in cinema feel more lonely than the end of Au Hasard Balthazar.

It is almost unbearable.

The quiet dignity of humanity being shamed.

How could we ever forget our love.

For even a second.

When we rub two sticks together at such an eyelevel perspective, the meaning of life is very clear.

But unutterable.

 

-PD

Die Büchse der Pandora [1929)

Elle est une femme fatale.

Thus sang the chorus.  Der unsichtbar Chor.

On Big Star’s cover of The Velvet Underground.

Third/Sister Lovers.  Alex Chilton from Lou Reed.

And so if we want to really know the prostitute in Vivre sa vie (Godard’s best “movie”), then we must see G.W. Pabst’s Die Büchse der Pandora.

Pandora’s Box.

Is empty.

See Mulholland Dr.

Blue key.

Lighting.

Her hair.

Louise Brooks.

The gloss of her brunette bob.

Yes, this film is many things.

Confusing?  Yes.

Boring?  Yes.

Genius?  Absolutely.

And here is why.

The two climaxes.

One would fit seamlessly into Fritz Lang’s M…or virtually anything by Alfred Hitchcock.

But the other climax?

It is seconds before.

And worlds more important.

A candle.

Like Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation album.

Two lost souls.

Dreaming.

One is reflecting on a messed up life.  Perhaps.

The other is a messed up life reflecting on nothing.  Just content with a moment’s peace.  Maybe.

Together.

The misfits.

Soon consumed by cataclysm.

An act of God.

Or its opposite.

What I mean to convey is that G.W. Pabst did something remarkable with this film.

It really does read (watch?) like Mulholland Dr. or The Big Sleep.

Something is missing here and there.

Sound!  (for one thing…)

I’ve said it before, but it really does matter who picks the music for these silent films.

It takes some research to know whether the version which has come down to you has anything to do with any official release which might have happened in the year of said film’s premiere.

What I got was Tchaikovsky…and “Greensleeves”…

But, most remarkably…it is the Romeo and Juliet Fantasy Overture (by Пётр Ильи́ч) without the soaring love theme…which is to say, it is the build-ups…the violent cymbal crashes…the angular solemnity which Dvořák’s 9th Symphony also shares (particularly the bold final movement).

But none of this really matters.

What matters is Lulu.  Nana.

Alban Berg.  “Das Messer ist blutig…”

Émile Zola

The fine print.

Frank Wedekind

October 24, 1929

the fear index

abnormally low?

who was ready on December 1st to see the premier of Pandora’s box in new York city?

Yes, I’m afraid the world runs on fine print.

And so the glamorous flapper Lulu had a tortuous go of it (behind the scenes).

The difference between men and women.

Every word is labored now.

Because once you are caught in a font it is a vicious circle.

And so I only urge:

press on through the boredom for at least there is a candle.

-PD

Sauve qui peut /la vie/ [1980)

12 seconds.  5 minutes.  2 fortnights.  a jiffy.

Really, I shouldn’t have to comment on the commodification of time.  Is that not the essence of capitalism?

Into your busy lives cram another blog post.  Another sloppy film review.  A film.

A more professional critic would start by alluding to the copious literature which points to this film as Godard’s return to form.

A strange phrase.  Which form?

Because really, for me, Godard begins here.  The known Godard is Parisian Godard…la nouvelle vague.

The unknown Godard is everything else.  As an American consumer it is rather inconvenient to obtain all but the classic films from our auteur.  After Week-end (1967), the DVDs become exponentially harder to come by.

But, as a rule, I digress.  Liberally.  Often.  Without fail.

This, then, would seem to be Godard emerging from the black forest of political filmmaking and ethical soul-searching to find the inklings of his mature style.

It is not an original thought.  The English-language biographies cover this thoroughly.  The device in question is (for lack of a more exact term) slow-motion.

It is the playful wonder of a man who still has the curiosity of a boy.

Technology changing.  New idiosyncrasies to each bit of gear on the market.

It is the same now.  Stash your camera on the top shelf and soon you will not know how to make films.

Your equipment will be obsolete and your knowledge outdated.

But that is all tertiary (tertiary?) in importance.

To our film.

We have characters; plot.  A walk in the wilderness and Godard (with the indispensable Anne-Marie Miéville) returned to a somewhat recognizable form.  As always, however, the form is highly subverted.  One might even say perverted in this particular instance.  It is a strange beauty.  Incomparable.  A triumph.  A mere glimpse of things to come.

Always playing on archetypes, Godard casts singer Jacques Dutronc as Paul Godard.  There can be little doubt that this character is meant to represent the filmmaker himself.  Every marker is there:  the ubiquitous cigar, the glasses, the mannerisms, the disheveled college professor sartorial ensembles…

The stunning Nathalie Baye plays Denise Rimbaud.  Here is where the ark types.  Arc-en-ciel.  A panorama of wispy clouds.  Yes, Arthur is never far…nor Baudelaire…nor Sartre and Duras.  And Marguerite?  Faust.  Your soul for a job.

Yes, prostitution returns.  The grand Godardian theme.  Isabelle Huppert plays the role of the sex worker Isabelle Rivière.

The setting?  Switzerland.  We see the signs at the station.  Nyon.  Not Lyon, Nyon.  It brings us back to that area we visited in Godard’s second film (though it was banned and thus delayed in release) Le Petit Soldat.

The famous scenes are of Baye on a bicycle–of Dutronc in a classroom before a chalkboard reading “Cain et Abel” and “Film et video.”

Yes, the sexual aspects of this film are heavy.  This perhaps proves that Godard’s return to mainstream filmmaking was not the end of his rebellious period.

Though there is a plot and there are discernible characters, it is not always clear what is going on.  What cannot be disputed is the sadness which Godard brings to light with yet another exposé of whoring.  Likewise, it might be gathered that the filmmaker is commenting on the perception of rural Switzerland as pristine and bucolic.  The perverse element of our film echoes previous erotic episodes of Pasolini and Buñuel.

Finally, one can’t help wondering whether the film in question had a formative effect on the Iranian director Kiarostami.  As in the later Taste of Cherry, Godard has one last trick up his sleeve to end out Sauve qui peut (la vie).

Indeed, Jean-Luc Godard was starting to find his magic touch again with this film…and its traces attested to a talent which was richer and better than ever before.

-PD

空手バカ一代 [1977)

[KARATE FOR LIFE (1977)]

Shin’ichi Chiba.  Another world.

The floating world.

Sonny Chiba.

We struggle with what can be expressed.  Our only means meanwhile our only limitation.

Language.  To the edge of verisimilitude.

Perhaps the greatest of all karate movies.  And yet no plot summary waiting to remind us.

This appears to be the final film directed by Kazuhiko Yamaguchi.

From the first iconic Toei breakers upon the rocks to the karate Karajan of the final plea for peace revenge.

Breathing into the ocean a righteous fire anger.

It is not the kung fu of China.  Not solely the karate of Japan.

It is the story of Mas Oyama.  Korean.

That said, it is Chinese martial arts…at the time of Japanese occupation…of South Korea.

Manchuria.

It is also the story (very tenuously) of Kanji Ishiwara. A Japanese general unpopular for his opposition to Japan’s invasion of neighboring countries (like Korea).

All it takes is one good egg.  Isn’t that what they tell us???

What is karate?  1963.

Strange in a stranger land.  A land more strange.

Chojun Miyagi.  Wax.

Wane on, wane off.

Okinawa.

You want an anti-imperialist film?  You want a political film?

Hear it is.

Her lips flaming with booze…ready to slice her wrists and end her pathetic life as a prostitute for U.S. airmen.

What would you do if you lived in Iraq?

Chiba Prefecture.

Doubt.  Retreat.

All we have needed is a little encouragement.

The geometric equation of detractors.

We admire the beards of the Marxists and the Muslims.

What if Thoreau had retreated to Walden in order to perfect his ass-kicking skills?

Ah, but all good things must come to an end.  T.B. sheets.  Van Morrison meets La bohème.

Perhaps they were trigger-happy with the inscrutable conventions of French title capitalization.

Maybe it is the e.e. cummings of opera composers.

We wait for Satie.  Erik.

Not to bore you, but judo and karate unite.

Enter The Dragon suffers.  The lady from Shanghai prefers Yamaguchi.

Raging bull fights ox luchador.

Bizarre.

Beautiful.

-PD