Monday, December 12, 2005

New York Stories

I am counting this as a Woody Allen film even though he just has one of the three shorts in it. The other two are by Coppola and Scorcese. The Scorcese one was pretty good. The Coppola one I watched the first five minutes of and thought it was awful, awful, awful, and so had no hesitation about telling Adele not to bother pausing it while I went up to Greenpoint to get Matthew's old phone. I came back, probably in a much better mood because of the fact that I no longer had to stress about a lack of a phone and then watched the Allen short, "Oedipus Wrecks," and immediately I laughed out loud and sort of said, "Aw, I love you, Woody Allen," and curled into a comfortable position on the couch and this is the same reason that I have been doing this marathon through two deaths, that for some reason, Allen resonates with me in a way that no other filmmakers really do. What will it mean when I finish the last few films I have left of his? Will that conclude something; and what will gain closure?

I also watched Shampoo earlier in the afternoon and found most of it too loud, that the dialogue wasn't isolated, there was all this salon, or party, or car, or office noise going on in the background and it really stressed me out for some reason. Woody took that stress, that tightness and let it all unwind and I felt so good after watching this short even if the moral of it, that Jewish boys should marry Jewish girls, was mildly troubling.

PS - Adele bought a bunch of records yesterday, which always makes me happy because I end up listening to them all day long, and she bought the New Pornographers' Twin Cinema and yes I have heard it so much that I already know every single word on it, but fuck God, I am listening to it now and there is something similar going on with them and Allen and the moods both are able to evoke in me so quickly, some sincere joy. I love them so mcuh. This album is going to played forever. I will just keep flipping sides all day long and never putting on anything new, at least, until Adele tells me she wants to hear something else.

PPS - I didn't sleep well last night and found myself unable to concentrate on Chesterfield.

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