December 7, 2003
MONDAY, December 8 @ 7:30PM (doors @ 7PM) at the Coolidge:
BALAGAN’s FIRST FUNDRAISING PARTY-SHOW!
* Film and Video shorts on the theme of MONEY! by filmmakers Henry Hills, Mary Filippo, Joe Gibbbons, Jorge Furtado & many
* Make a Movie! Participate in making a group hand-made film that will screen at the end of the show.
* Raffles of your favorite local filmmakers works on DVD & VHS. Plus other objects d’art (among the contributors are Alfred
Guzzetti, Abraham Ravett, Brittany Gravely, Robert Arnold, Jon Gianvito, Karen Aqua and many others).
* Balagan Memorabilia! Our Balagan T-shirts will be hot off the press.
I guess I should make a year-end Top Ten Film list…but I probably won’t for several reasons. First, because I haven’t seen many films this year. My top ten would be my only ten for the year. Second, because I’m not good at Top Ten lists. I don’t really think that way. Third, because I’m indecisive and very aware that making such lists pigeon-holes a person. The movies you like says a lot about you, and if you ask me to make a top ten list, you ask me to define myself. That’s a lot of work. I’m sort of like what’s-his-name in that shitty movie High Fidelity, the John Cusack character, who is so immersed in music in his life that he can’t possibly distill it into ten songs, and he edits the list interminably…that’s me. I need several top ten lists, if I’m to make any at all. There’s the Film School Top Ten, then there’s the Escapism Top Ten, then there’s the Depressive Girl’s Top Ten, then there’s the Local Top Ten, then there’s the Movies So Bad They’re Good Top Ten…the list goes on. Perhaps a top ten list of top ten lists is in order.
December 6, 2003
I’m half-watching this dumb Morgan Freeman kidnapping/cop movie and it’s mind-numbingly stupid but am keeping it on because the kidnapper is that guy with the amazing voice…oh that voice…I think he’s actually British, or at least I like to think he is…he was in the equally dumb Robin Hood Prince of Thieves and had a British gravelly voice and that’s where I first saw him and that voice was imprinted forever on my brain, so I like to think that’s what he sounds like when walking around in the world, with a low British gravelly growl. I don’t even know the guy’s name. But that voice is like an aural form of Kryptonite to Superman…I hear that voice and am rendered powerless. Much like the male scent in the elevator a few weeks ago. It’s a chemical/hormonal/physical/PRIMAL response that I cannot control.