The Man Who Fell to Earth<\/em>. The cast are unknowns,
\ngenerally speaking from the viewpoint of the United States of Love, and
\nthe flick begins with the cool, smooth lines that only the Brits can
\ndo. It has a perfect little prologue that is followed by death, terror,
\nstruggle and rebirth. The story reads as if from a book. That’s not
\nsomething that can often be achieved, yet they manage it with finesse.
\nAnother perfect script, the narrator’s voice beginning as the house
\nlights go down. We open with: “Now, he had become the still center of
\nthat spinning wheel of misfortune.” What a great opening line. This is
\na nut-cutting study of the writer’s life, the gambling world and a
\nyoung man cut loose.<\/p>\nThe movie sums up Jack Manfred after 12 minutes – “Jack was up above
\nthe world, a writer looking down on his subject.” But you can’t stay
\nabove the world for long. Jack’s “professional voyeurism” won’t last.
\nThe green, sucking water at the bottom of the pit of gambling and sin
\nquickly pulls him down. It’s not really about being on the other side
\nof the chips, though. It’s all about the poison that seeps through in
\nwhat Jack believes to be detached observation. The idea that the world
\naround him is a feeder for his book, and his hopes to be a successful
\nwriter, are both mistaken dreams. His writing becomes a conduit for all
\nthe filth and depravity that crawls around on the floor of Human
\naddiction. Jack is quickly taken over by the latent schadenfreude
\npresent in every writer. What is it that drags him in? Watching people
\nlose? Bringing them down? If he cannot succeed, then his writing life
\nis over. So, he hurts those people, simply through emotional
\nnegligence. The hands-off observer in a hands-on world. But the
\nmisfortune of the people around him is what builds his novel. He
\nbecomes an addict. A sardonic, venomous addiction that brings him into
\nthe downward spiral. Of course, the great horror of the true writing
\nlife – all that is okay. It leads to production. Do words on a page
\noutweigh Humanity? The obsession, shared by writers both aspiring and
\naccomplished, is laid out early on. On the subway, Jack dreams of
\npeople reading his book. He dreams of getting into their heads. While
\nI’ve shared those thoughts, I’ve also sat next to million dollar
\nauthors who wish the same things. The power of looking across at a
\nwoman and seeing your book in her hands is indescribable. Jack opens
\nhimself to the conduit, opens himself to pollution. Everything must be
\ndone in order to move forward.<\/p>\n
Every writer should watch this movie, if only to learn how to drink
\nfive ounces of chilled vodka every night. It’s a novel on film, and
\npart of the increasing number of movies and books about struggling
\nwriters in an equally struggling world. It’s the natural process,
\ncaptured, displayed. If you write, you’ll recognize that big darkness.<\/p>\n
“So Nacho says check it out!” James wants me to say as I hastily write this review and he puts in Vampyros Lesbos<\/em>.<\/p>\nCall me crazy, but I adore this trash. Here’s the opener: The theme
\nmusic is electronically altered spoken Turkish with a groovy, funky
\nmusak background. On camera, an adorable brunette she-vamp reaches
\ntowards us as red silk scarves flutter around her. Scene one, act one,
\ncut to she-vamp in see-through negligee masturbating to her image in
\nfront of a mirror and dancing to a 70’s guitar riff. Amen, brother,
\nthis piece of crap pulls through every time.<\/p>\n
If you plan to enjoy the talents of Jesus Franco, Dario Argento or any
\nof the gore\/Euro-horror crew, you must be drunk. I write these
\narticles, people rent the movies and they send me emails saying, dude,
\nNacho, what the fuck did you make me do? Were they sober? Yes. That’s
\nalways the first mistake.<\/p>\n
In your basement? Nacho wrote a review about Black Belt Jones<\/em>?
\nYou got the tape on the coffee table? Great. Now, stop! Pour yourself
\nfive ounces of vodka, smoke a joint, undo the top three buttons, have
\nanother five ounces of vodka, dim the lights, roll film. Now you’re
\ncool, baby.<\/p>\nThese big entertainment centers we have today… You ever notice how they
\nsit serenely in sanitized living rooms? Watch out for the leather, take
\nyour shoes off at the door, we can’t eat in here. What the fuck? I’m
\nwatching goddamned Jesus Franco! I’m rolling through the Pam Grier
\ncollection. I’m going to tackle all four Phantasms in a row and, then,
\nI’m going to blow my head off and splatter brains across your
\nwhite-washed, virginal walls. James, you see, he understands. So do I.
\nOur entertainment centers are in backrooms, forbidden chambers, the
\nhell dimension. Who’s combing the carpet while surround sound feels us
\nup? Open a window, man, because the stench of death comes from beneath
\nthat couch. Today’s special: A super death TV sits beside a pile of Thrashcore<\/em>
\nmagazines and vinyl punk records. Haven’t touched them in years. There
\nare some moldering Jelly Babies behind them if you’re hungry.<\/p>\nOkay, I’m ranting. Back to nude vampires. A woman in black underwear
\nwrithes on the screen, I am encased in overloud 70’s guitar music, the
\nonly light in the room is from the wall of entertainment before us, and
\nJohnny Walker Black melts my ice. James drinks his straight. The room
\nis choked with the smoke from Cuban cigarillos, coffee brews in a
\nmold-coated pot sitting on the floor beside the couch. It smells like a
\ndog has slept in this room for 20 years, though James has never owned a
\npet. Jesus Franco, ladies and gentlemen; we watch in silence.<\/p>\n
Vampyros Lesbos<\/em> is the first to hit upon an oft-used idea. How
\ndo the vamps go unnoticed in the modern day? Well, they form a theater.
\nWhen in doubt, act.<\/p>\nThe great thing about filming on location in Istanbul is that it’s an
\nexcuse to have your funky 70’s music overwhelmed by a sitar. Oh, I’m
\nnot complaining. The soundtrack could be pots and pans banging together
\nas long as naked girls walk around covered in blood.<\/p>\n
“Let me talk for a bit during this slow part,” James said to me as he
\nrefreshed my scotch. He told me the life story of his younger sister
\nand I listened contentedly. See, you gotta be drunk, because the slow
\npart is thirteen hours long.<\/p>\n
Overall, with the booze settled in, I must say that Lesbos ranks far
\nbetter now that it has a proper DVD restoration. Now we have the bright
\ncolors we’ve never seen on the old beat-up VHS version. The subtitles
\nare in place and properly translated, as opposed to making up a story
\nlike the early 90’s tapes did. It’s a fairly complicated story, too.
\nBram Stoker meets Whitley Strieber. Nude chicks abound, blood pours and
\nit’s simply amazing what a sewing needle can do to an eye socket.<\/p>\n
James and I finished our three hour marathon on a high note. Usually
\nI’m sporting a movie headache but, this Saturday, I was feeling up
\nabove the world, a writer looking down on his subject…<\/p>\n
Nacho’s gin rating: Watch the first while drinking, watch the second while drunk. You’ll thank me by midnight.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[50,352],"tags":[403,353,179],"class_list":["post-2549","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-cult-culture","category-gsarchive","tag-cult-culture","tag-gs-archive-2004-2008","tag-james"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2549","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2549"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2549\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2920,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2549\/revisions\/2920"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2549"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2549"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2549"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}