What is it about OCTranspo that makes me think of the phrase "cruel and unusual punishment?" Every time I stand at a bus stop, I imagine there is some kind of underground Control Centre connected to billions of dollars of surveillance cameras monitoring the bus stops most frequented by me. The Control Centre Official then radios the bus driver to take a break at least two stops before mine, or wherever the bend in the road occurs so that I can't see the driver entering the confectionary and buying a Joe Louis and a Mountain Dew, then returning to the bus in order to partake in his leisurely sugar fix. By this time, the 40 below temperature has welded my forehead to the timetable on the pole, making it impossible to see the bus even if it were approaching. (Either that, or the driver is instructed to take a one block detour, in order to bypass my stop altogether).
Conversely, whenever I'm in no rush to go anywhere - usually while ambling along Bank Street in beautiful weather, the number 1 and 7 buses gather in packs and slowly articulate themselves alongside me, occasionally stopping - the doors opening with exaggerated expectancy - to see if I might need a lift. "No thank you," I recently said, adjusting my meagre bag of groceries. "It's obvious I don't need your service today, isn't it?" Then turning on my heels, I screamed "I'm on to you" directly at the exorbitantly-priced camera, which I think was hidden in a nearby evergreen.
Since that incident, the Ottawa bus system no longer acknowledges my existence.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
The Genius of Buster Keaton
Okay, I'm in Buster Keaton mode, with a Seventeen Voyces' presentation of his 1927 masterpiece, 'The General' at the end of this month.
'The General' is listed at number 18 on the AFI's (American Film Institute) list of the top 100 films, and it's a dandy. I've seen it more than thirty times and for some reason, have never tired of it. Keaton interwove a dramatic true incident which took place during the American Civil War with his unique brand of Vaudevillian comedy and topped it off with great physical daring-do.
1927 was the very year that the 'Talkies' came into being with Al Jolson's 'The Jazz Singer' and the very first Oscar winner - 'Wings.' But audiences had never seen anything quite like 'The General;' not only is it considered one of the most authentic looking pictures to depict the Civil War (based on Matthew Brady's photographs) but it is essentially one gigantic chase movie with very impressive locomotives and Buster Keaton running all over them as though they were just monster playgrounds. As usual, in his films, the gags are so well-timed and so elaborate, one wonders to what length the cast and crew had to go in order to set up a single shot.
Keaton's stunt work may not have been as death-defying as in some of his other films, but his acrobatics and graceful movement is sheer joy to watch. This is a man who started performing on the stage with his parents at the age of three. (I don't believe he even went to school - if he did, it was for a very short period). Audiences in the early 1900's thought Buster was actually a midget because his father rough-handled him so much during each show, they couldn't believe he was a child. The father was violent, drunken, verbally and physically abusive. The mother was a dull-witted and acquiescent accomplice. The child’s wide eyes stared out from a deathly white, transfixed face which showed no emotional reaction, whatever he was subjected to. Between the child’s shoulder-blades was fastened a suitcase handle, with which the father picked him up, shook him, swung him round, dropped him face down onto the ground, and hurled him repeatedly against furniture and walls. When the father tired of this he would screw a broom handle into a harness on the boy’s back, plunge him into cold water, and use him as a human mop to clean the floor. Finally the father would fling the limp body of his son into the middle of the crowd of people who had paid money to watch the molestation. The child had been treated in this way, every day, since the age of three.
Once there were some hecklers in the front row, and the enraged senior Keaton threw his son directly into their laps - breaking one of the men's ribs. Thousands of shows later, once the public discovered Buster's true age, they angrily demanded the Keaton family to show up in court, citing child abuse. Buster gamefully removed his shirt, miraculously revealing no bruises of any kind. The Keatons continued their show across the United States, and were highly regarded in the industry.
Fast forward two or three decades: Buster Keaton's most famous and dangerous stunt required him to stand motionless. It was during 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' as a hurricane created in typical Hollywood fashion - using giant fans - howled around him. The facade of a house is ripped from its studs and falls on top of Keaton. He is saved only because of a tiny open window that happens to fall exactly on the spot where he is standing - the frame barely missing either shoulder. The wall was a couple of thousand pounds, and was hoisted into place by a crane so that an 'X' could be marked on the ground where Keaton was to stand. Apparently most of the crew left while this sequence was filmed, and even the cameraman covered his eyes at the last second while he was still cranking. Had that wall settled into the ground in an inch or two, Keaton would have been killed. (Didn't they know about balsa wood back then...or stand-ins)?
As an historical footnote, the very first animated film incorporating sound was Walt Disney's 'Steamboat Willie' starring Mickey Mouse (in his first role) in 1928. It was based on Keaton's Steamboat Bill Jr.
Getting back to the stage relationship with his father, the brutality of their act laid the foundations not only for the hair-raising veracity of Buster Keaton’s stunts in the hilarious shorts he eventually made for Mack Sennett, but also, contrarily, for the quality of somnambulistic beauty which suffuses the great feature films he was later to both star in and direct. In films such as The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Junior, and Our Hospitality, Keaton attained heights of physical comedy never since equalled, uniquely achieved among silent comedians and clowns with an absolute lack of pathos or sentiment.
This leads naturally to the whole notion of Keaton vs. Chaplin. The debate still rages on as to who was the 'better' of the two. They were both diminutive men from poor backgrounds who became uncompromising as entertainers and filmmakers. Chaplin was much more of a businessman who gained control of his material and later formed the original United Artists with Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks and D.W. Griffith. Keaton was the complete opposite with business; he let others look after it for him, until he lost control of his assets by the end of the '20's. He was much more interested in smoking, drinking and playing poker. Sadly, this spelled the end of his career and his fortunes, while Charlie lived out his days surrounded by extreme wealth.
When all is said and done, even though it really is like comparing apples and oranges (except in black & white) I've always appreciated Buster Keaton more than Chaplin. There is something more primal and melancholic about his character because one never felt he cared whether the audience cheered for him or not the way Chaplin's character does. His stone-faced persona which he learned on the Vaudeville stage also heightened that melancholy, whereas Chaplin's overwrought expressions and movement are to me a little saccharin. In the end, it really does come down to personal taste.
Keaton's influence was especially big on Jacques Tati as M. Hulot, Jackie Chan, Rowan Atkinson as Mr. Bean, Johnny Depp in 'Benny and Joon,' and all the Warner Brother cartoons. His films made a huge comeback in the 1960's, and he lived just long enough to see it happen.
Please copy and paste the following link for details of Seventeen Voyces' presentation of 'The General.'
http://www.seventeenvoyces.ca/concerts.html
'The General' is listed at number 18 on the AFI's (American Film Institute) list of the top 100 films, and it's a dandy. I've seen it more than thirty times and for some reason, have never tired of it. Keaton interwove a dramatic true incident which took place during the American Civil War with his unique brand of Vaudevillian comedy and topped it off with great physical daring-do.
1927 was the very year that the 'Talkies' came into being with Al Jolson's 'The Jazz Singer' and the very first Oscar winner - 'Wings.' But audiences had never seen anything quite like 'The General;' not only is it considered one of the most authentic looking pictures to depict the Civil War (based on Matthew Brady's photographs) but it is essentially one gigantic chase movie with very impressive locomotives and Buster Keaton running all over them as though they were just monster playgrounds. As usual, in his films, the gags are so well-timed and so elaborate, one wonders to what length the cast and crew had to go in order to set up a single shot.
Keaton's stunt work may not have been as death-defying as in some of his other films, but his acrobatics and graceful movement is sheer joy to watch. This is a man who started performing on the stage with his parents at the age of three. (I don't believe he even went to school - if he did, it was for a very short period). Audiences in the early 1900's thought Buster was actually a midget because his father rough-handled him so much during each show, they couldn't believe he was a child. The father was violent, drunken, verbally and physically abusive. The mother was a dull-witted and acquiescent accomplice. The child’s wide eyes stared out from a deathly white, transfixed face which showed no emotional reaction, whatever he was subjected to. Between the child’s shoulder-blades was fastened a suitcase handle, with which the father picked him up, shook him, swung him round, dropped him face down onto the ground, and hurled him repeatedly against furniture and walls. When the father tired of this he would screw a broom handle into a harness on the boy’s back, plunge him into cold water, and use him as a human mop to clean the floor. Finally the father would fling the limp body of his son into the middle of the crowd of people who had paid money to watch the molestation. The child had been treated in this way, every day, since the age of three.
Once there were some hecklers in the front row, and the enraged senior Keaton threw his son directly into their laps - breaking one of the men's ribs. Thousands of shows later, once the public discovered Buster's true age, they angrily demanded the Keaton family to show up in court, citing child abuse. Buster gamefully removed his shirt, miraculously revealing no bruises of any kind. The Keatons continued their show across the United States, and were highly regarded in the industry.
Fast forward two or three decades: Buster Keaton's most famous and dangerous stunt required him to stand motionless. It was during 'Steamboat Bill Jr.' as a hurricane created in typical Hollywood fashion - using giant fans - howled around him. The facade of a house is ripped from its studs and falls on top of Keaton. He is saved only because of a tiny open window that happens to fall exactly on the spot where he is standing - the frame barely missing either shoulder. The wall was a couple of thousand pounds, and was hoisted into place by a crane so that an 'X' could be marked on the ground where Keaton was to stand. Apparently most of the crew left while this sequence was filmed, and even the cameraman covered his eyes at the last second while he was still cranking. Had that wall settled into the ground in an inch or two, Keaton would have been killed. (Didn't they know about balsa wood back then...or stand-ins)?
As an historical footnote, the very first animated film incorporating sound was Walt Disney's 'Steamboat Willie' starring Mickey Mouse (in his first role) in 1928. It was based on Keaton's Steamboat Bill Jr.
Getting back to the stage relationship with his father, the brutality of their act laid the foundations not only for the hair-raising veracity of Buster Keaton’s stunts in the hilarious shorts he eventually made for Mack Sennett, but also, contrarily, for the quality of somnambulistic beauty which suffuses the great feature films he was later to both star in and direct. In films such as The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Junior, and Our Hospitality, Keaton attained heights of physical comedy never since equalled, uniquely achieved among silent comedians and clowns with an absolute lack of pathos or sentiment.
This leads naturally to the whole notion of Keaton vs. Chaplin. The debate still rages on as to who was the 'better' of the two. They were both diminutive men from poor backgrounds who became uncompromising as entertainers and filmmakers. Chaplin was much more of a businessman who gained control of his material and later formed the original United Artists with Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks and D.W. Griffith. Keaton was the complete opposite with business; he let others look after it for him, until he lost control of his assets by the end of the '20's. He was much more interested in smoking, drinking and playing poker. Sadly, this spelled the end of his career and his fortunes, while Charlie lived out his days surrounded by extreme wealth.
When all is said and done, even though it really is like comparing apples and oranges (except in black & white) I've always appreciated Buster Keaton more than Chaplin. There is something more primal and melancholic about his character because one never felt he cared whether the audience cheered for him or not the way Chaplin's character does. His stone-faced persona which he learned on the Vaudeville stage also heightened that melancholy, whereas Chaplin's overwrought expressions and movement are to me a little saccharin. In the end, it really does come down to personal taste.
Keaton's influence was especially big on Jacques Tati as M. Hulot, Jackie Chan, Rowan Atkinson as Mr. Bean, Johnny Depp in 'Benny and Joon,' and all the Warner Brother cartoons. His films made a huge comeback in the 1960's, and he lived just long enough to see it happen.
Please copy and paste the following link for details of Seventeen Voyces' presentation of 'The General.'
http://www.seventeenvoyces.ca/concerts.html
Friday, October 1, 2010
State of the Art; Art of the State
Went to Telefilm Canada's web site recently to see what kind of films are being financed and subsequently unseen by Canadians this year.
I wasn't at all surprised to discover that of the 53 feature films financed, 64% of those films were produced out of Quebec!
But wait! Before you start bandying about epithets such as 'racist' and 'xenophobe,' I would like to take this opportunity to extol the virtues of Cinema in Quebec; it is by far one of the best cultural ambassadors we have to offer the rest of the world. In fact, I want to come back in my next life as a French filmmaker - why? Because there is a warmth, an earthiness, a quirkiness, a humanism, and a great sense of ironic humour about their films. There is also a deep-rooted cinematographic artistry which sometimes tends to elude more commercially-minded filmmakers of the other Solitude.
The Quebecois understand this - just by virtue of being next to English Canada and the States - which is why they have their own distinctive industry and star-system. I would much rather watch the thoughtful, provocative, artistic films of Denys Arcand, than say the chilly, calculating, cerebral, aloof, and in the end, not very interesting films of Atom Egoyan.
It didn't help in the 1970's when doctors, lawyers, used car salesmen, and other non-producers in English Canada took advantage of the generous 100% tax incentive of the Trudeau/Francis Fox era. They tainted the Canadian film industry by making the worst low-budget drivel this side of Roger Corman just so they could give their drinking buddies a terrific tax break. At the same time, the Australians were given a tax incentive of 150% and produced magnificent directors such as Bruce Beresford, Peter Weir, Gillian Armstrong, Paul Cox, Fred Schepisi and George Miller. These Wizards of Oz ushered in a new era of films such as 'My Brilliant Career,' 'Picnic at Hanging Rock,' 'The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith,' 'Breaker Morant' and 'The Getting of Wisdom.' Meanwhile, the Canucks had to console themselves with films such as 'Terror Train.' We are still recovering...
There is a difference between a sincere, culturally cognizant art form, and the mini-mogul wannabe lifestyle that certain latté-sipping Toronto producers with cool crimson-framed glasses frequenting Hazelton Lanes tend to gravitate toward. (Wow, three hyphens in one sentence)! Thankfully, this is something the government officials at Telefilm have discerned, and are rewarding those who are in cinema for the right reasons.
Some of you cynics out there in Blogland may not agree, or care. What does it matter - you might say - the Americans have control of our screens anyway.
I wasn't at all surprised to discover that of the 53 feature films financed, 64% of those films were produced out of Quebec!
But wait! Before you start bandying about epithets such as 'racist' and 'xenophobe,' I would like to take this opportunity to extol the virtues of Cinema in Quebec; it is by far one of the best cultural ambassadors we have to offer the rest of the world. In fact, I want to come back in my next life as a French filmmaker - why? Because there is a warmth, an earthiness, a quirkiness, a humanism, and a great sense of ironic humour about their films. There is also a deep-rooted cinematographic artistry which sometimes tends to elude more commercially-minded filmmakers of the other Solitude.
The Quebecois understand this - just by virtue of being next to English Canada and the States - which is why they have their own distinctive industry and star-system. I would much rather watch the thoughtful, provocative, artistic films of Denys Arcand, than say the chilly, calculating, cerebral, aloof, and in the end, not very interesting films of Atom Egoyan.
It didn't help in the 1970's when doctors, lawyers, used car salesmen, and other non-producers in English Canada took advantage of the generous 100% tax incentive of the Trudeau/Francis Fox era. They tainted the Canadian film industry by making the worst low-budget drivel this side of Roger Corman just so they could give their drinking buddies a terrific tax break. At the same time, the Australians were given a tax incentive of 150% and produced magnificent directors such as Bruce Beresford, Peter Weir, Gillian Armstrong, Paul Cox, Fred Schepisi and George Miller. These Wizards of Oz ushered in a new era of films such as 'My Brilliant Career,' 'Picnic at Hanging Rock,' 'The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith,' 'Breaker Morant' and 'The Getting of Wisdom.' Meanwhile, the Canucks had to console themselves with films such as 'Terror Train.' We are still recovering...
There is a difference between a sincere, culturally cognizant art form, and the mini-mogul wannabe lifestyle that certain latté-sipping Toronto producers with cool crimson-framed glasses frequenting Hazelton Lanes tend to gravitate toward. (Wow, three hyphens in one sentence)! Thankfully, this is something the government officials at Telefilm have discerned, and are rewarding those who are in cinema for the right reasons.
Some of you cynics out there in Blogland may not agree, or care. What does it matter - you might say - the Americans have control of our screens anyway.
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