October 2006 Archives

Nobody gets out alive this Halloween.

Hmm, I hope that's not true, but this may be the cutest "Halloween Song" ever made. I'd like to be proven wrong, but for now, check it out:

Music for Robots already beat me to it.

[Spoilers. Consider yourself warned.]

I've been thinking a lot about Michel Gondry's La Science des rêves -- The Science of Sleep -- today. I guess it's been about three weeks since I saw it and I'm finding I want to see it again. Reading A. O. Scott's review for the New York Times for a second time, only after having viewed the film, I realize I agree with him exactly. Pretty much. Okay, almost.

Like Scott I left the theater a little "blue" it had to end, but I did not wish that it had amounted to more because the film resolved itself apropos of the only consistent, underlying thread of the whole narrative, something Scott himself explains earlier in the review: "Love is too bound up with memories, fantasies, projections and misperceptions to conform to a conventional, linear structure."

I identify quite a bit with the Gael García Bernal's "Stéphane" in everything if not his anxieties ballooning in such a manner as to hint the approach of a more serious psychological disorder. There is a scene in which Stéphane's friends and family are gathered to celebrate the publishing of his paintings in a 12-month calendar. (Calendars being perhaps the only true linear representation of time in the whole film.) Though it's not clear whether the entire scene is a dream, there is certainly one obvious moment when Stéphane's childlike irrationality is triggered unconsciously by Stéphanie (Charlotte Gainsbourg): they are holding hands and she pulls away. As he proceeds to drink -- using the bar tap as his personal drinking fountain in a sad display of his inability to control himself -- he watches, heartbroken, as Stéphanie dances with two other men, giving everyone else at the party attention except him.

By this point in the film, I had been led to believe Stéphanie and Stéphane had established a romantic relationship in addition to their respective curiosity about the other and their friendly dioramas, mind readers and time machines. As Stéphane's fantasies begin to degrade with the harsher hue of

reality, however, it becomes unclear how much of a relationship he has cultivated with Stéphanie and how much of it he has only imagined. While I have certainly found myself overcome with feelings of insecurity both with respect to myself and to myself in romantic relationships, I fortunately have a slightly better grip on reality than our friend Stéphane. He is almost indignant about staying in a very childish, emotional space suspended between his dreams and his waking life.

That the majority of all this is illustrated by means of stop-motion creatures and interjections is perfect. Even at it's most impossible and cartoonish moments, it's perhaps the most surrealistically exact a film could possibly get. Scott thinks it's the most "authentic a slice of life as [he's] encountered on screen in quite some time". Life can be portrayed in a myriad of cinematic expressions, but this feels right in that our everyday lives have no narrative to them; it is written as we go. In this way, Gondry has presented us with a slice of Stéphane's life as he lived it, preserved just so.

I started thinking about The Science of Sleep today also because I was thinking about how amazing stop-motion is, and particularly how it's been utilized in films like SoS, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and a film I only this past week saw for the first time, Eraserhead. I could spend months thinking about how much Eraserhead disturbed me (note to self: do not watch anything created by David Lynch when feeling melancholy), which is not to say I did not like/appreciate it, but I'm concentrating on stop-motion here.

So, all of *that* reminded me of a fantastic video I first saw a few months ago, "Leaf House" by Animal Collective. Click the image to visit the video over on YouTube, or better yet, watch the ~ 70MB file in your web browser.

As their bio describes, Animal Collective has at best "deliciously skewed songs, heartbreaking hooks and deep pop sensibilities". They can otherwise be scattered, cacophonous, weird, haunting -- and I love it. I've sort of been inundating myself with them today, listening to Sung Tongs, Feels, Prospect Hummer and the Grass EP repeatedly. They have provided the perfect soundtrack for thinking about dreams, love and The Science of Sleep. Both the audio track and the video of "Leaf House" are representative of the kinds of disconnect literally between the video itself and Gondry's film, and also between its imaginative representation of toys, marriage, love, expectation, destruction and, well, kitties.

There's no one to say "meow".

What?!

Exactly.

I want one of these. No, I need one.

But only if it looks this cool -- the old, wooden desk with the sleek, metal/vinyl old-school apendage of a recumbant bicycle - seat - simulator - gym-ish - contraption. But where's the tower? I wonder if she's secretely liftin' weights with it over there.

I am going pink for October. I almost didn't, but the more I thought about it the less there seemed to be a reason not to. I am inspired by all of those I know who have been affected by breast cancer or any cancer, as they are all terrible in their own right. While we may have October set aside for just this one, I'd like to think that I'm acknowledging those who have been affected by any cancer in any way.

While PinkforOctober.org has stopped adding links to sites as there are over 500 websites that have gone pink, there's no reason to stop there. And now coverpop.com has added an interactive mosaic showcasing sites that have gone pink.

If you would like to turn your own site pink, you can enter this code to add the banner in the upper left corner of this page to your own site (put the code anywhere in the "About Me" section of your MySpace info to add the banner to your profile). Help stamp-out breast cancer by spreading awareness.

Whenever I read, I find myself wanting to write. So here I am, post finally finishing Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash, and I want to write. Rather, I wish I was a novelist. I tend to feel this way when reading works by those who have an almost mystical command of the written word, but perhaps I am still just mesmerized by this en of Stephenson. Btw, a quick stumble for the nam-shub of Enki produces this Australian DJ's MySpace page (NreallySFW. The first and last tracks, "Nam Shub Wobble" and "Eyn Tzu Oj Zwei", respectively, are pretty good).

But, as is the case with lethal text, I am both energized by the need and want to write and yet simultaneously paralyzed -- an almost laughable paradox considering the fact that "writer's block" is pretty much the way of life for most of those called to produce words. I don't think about this much anymore. I used to think I wanted to be a writer, but I realize now that I like to write and want to write. I don't need to write. Or at least, if I did need it, I would probably do it a lot more often. : )

It does, however, feel good to write and dork around with my computer this evening. While I have used a computer for more than 50 hours this past week, none of it has really been for my own pleasure. Thought it is not necessarily difficult, I have taken over a new position in my job that has found me, at best, behind. And while I know none of the people I deal with on a day-to-day basis have some secret cooperative conspiracy against me, the backlog and end-of-last-month syndrome has left me ill prepared for their onslaught; I'm fresh meat. Actually, it's not that bad at all, but let's just say I am ecstatic it's Saturday and that Sunday is waiting for me.

I'm currently listening to KEXP Live Performance Podcast of Camera Obscura, and the DJ and band members are going on a bit of a rant about their internet-savviness as a band. Apparently their manager accosts them when they're *not* blogging. Talk about pressure, but I imagine touring produces a fair amount to blog about. Either way, I'm glad I don't have that kind of pressure to blog. Just the prodding of friends and/or the acknowledgment that I just don't post that often. Perhaps I'll get over my self-importance and find better, topical things to write about.