Listening: Stormcock, Roy Harper (not only because that one dude plays on it, but that certainly doesn't hurt); Sailin' Shoes, Little Feat -- I think Little Feat were so strangely brilliant. Completely unlike any other band, and too under-appreciated; What's Going On, Marvin Gaye; the good songs off Nevermind, Nirvana. I should also note that I found Lola versus Powerman... (very possibly my favorite Kinks album) on vinyl, BUT HAD NO CASH. Criminal!
Reading: Still Lolita... And I've been neglecting that mythical little nymphet. I'll finish it within a day or two. Then its onto Will You Take Me As I Am: Joni Mitchell's Blue Period and Redemption Song: The Ballad of Joe Strummer, I think.
Watching: Mean Streets! ... I think officially tromps Taxi Driver. Taxi Driver has great aesthetic appeal, but Mean Streets is far more compelling, engrossing, and entertainingly gritty. But Martin Scorsese wins a fucking prize for always having the BEST endings (and soundtracks). He always surprises me, and leaves me staring wildly at my television -- a concoction of awe, shock, and thrill;
Super Fly, which I had never seen, even after loving that soundtrack so much. It was very typically seventies blaxploitation. Just the right length, too;
The Great Gatsby (1974), which was the most wretched adaptation. Robert Redford was bland as Gatsby. Mia Farrow made the most irritating Daisy. They do a hideous job at looking in love. All other portrayals were neither here nor there, though I thought Lois Chiles made a brilliant Jordan -- my favorite character in the book. All in all, it was too damn long (2 1/2 hours!) and terribly shot. Was the book so disturbed and depressing? Was I simply captivated by its lavish writing that I was blind to the obscenely dark tone? I realized it was a story riddled with tragedy, but at the very least entertainingly decadent. This film made the characters out to be people you didn't want to know. This film was awful;
I personally think that being stuck in the wilderness with Humphrey Bogart and Walter Huston sounds like an amazing time (even if Bogie's a total ass here). Just paste me where Tim Holt is, okay?
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre! Bogie, good old Bogie. Hard ass Bogie, just like pre- Casablanca. When he truly stuck he neck out for no one. So dazzling. What a brilliant team with John and Walter Huston;
Dial M for Murder, whatever. Grace Kelly was better here than in High Society or Mogambo (In Rear Window, she's little more than well-dressed furniture), but this film was less than remarkable. Very suspenseful, though. I did indeed scream as she was almost murdered. Wasn't quite sure who I was rooting for, until I realized they're all shmucks;
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, Katharine Houghton (Hepburn's niece) is adorable, and the speeches (of which there are many) are ever-poignant. I remember being a bit more moved by Spencer Tracy's finale, but its because he was just about to croak, and he and KH had had such a lengthy romance. So its touching if you think of it in those terms, and oh, what if he was thinking of just that while he delivered it? But what if he wasn't? It makes it far less engrossing. I think such a dynamic pair could have ended their partnership in a better way.
