Wonderful Dames
May. 20th, 2025 05:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
setsuledI was going to watch Psycho last night because I saw it was on Japanese Amazon Prime but it was some really lousy, unrestored print. Sometimes I wonder if the reason old movies tend not to be popular in Japan is because most movies made before 1970 are only available in copies that look like they came from a roll of celluloid that's been stashed on the floor of a taxi for twenty years. There are exceptions. For some reason my Japanese copy of Secret of the Incas is pristine.
So I didn't watch Psycho. I tried to watch Ally McBeal a bit but the episode, a Thanksgiving episode in which it turns out Ally's father had been flirting with Georgia, was filled with too many lame coincidences and I couldn't keep watching. So I just drifted off to sleep watching Valerie and Her Week of Wonders again on The Criterion Channel. What a wonderful colour palette that movie has.
This morning I woke up to see Natasha Lyonne visited the Criterion Closet practically naked. She chose Mike Leigh's Naked and David Cronenberg's Naked Lunch among other movies. Maybe she was protesting Cannes' recently announced prohibition on people showing up nude on the red carpet. Maybe she just wanted to remind people she's not exactly like Peter Falk.
I realised she's almost exactly my age. She was born the same year and the same month--she was born April 4, 1979 and I was born April 11, 1979. She's definitely aged better.
X Sonnet 1940
Where citizens were nothing more than pies,
The shop was selling cakes and sticky rolls
Of upper crusts, the best were kept with eyes
Obscured in tanks of fish with shaky goals,
Accrued for foggy syrup, placed within,
A filter's clog, to make a sweetened life,
To quickly ravage thoughts of idle sin,
And check the dance of someone's drunken wife
Before the crew of new cadets could dream
Of something bigger, pulling up parades
Above the heads who just escaped a stream
Of molten rock as music now invades
The sound of happy morning coffee beans
Stampeding down a hill of leafy greens.
So I didn't watch Psycho. I tried to watch Ally McBeal a bit but the episode, a Thanksgiving episode in which it turns out Ally's father had been flirting with Georgia, was filled with too many lame coincidences and I couldn't keep watching. So I just drifted off to sleep watching Valerie and Her Week of Wonders again on The Criterion Channel. What a wonderful colour palette that movie has.
This morning I woke up to see Natasha Lyonne visited the Criterion Closet practically naked. She chose Mike Leigh's Naked and David Cronenberg's Naked Lunch among other movies. Maybe she was protesting Cannes' recently announced prohibition on people showing up nude on the red carpet. Maybe she just wanted to remind people she's not exactly like Peter Falk.
I realised she's almost exactly my age. She was born the same year and the same month--she was born April 4, 1979 and I was born April 11, 1979. She's definitely aged better.
X Sonnet 1940
Where citizens were nothing more than pies,
The shop was selling cakes and sticky rolls
Of upper crusts, the best were kept with eyes
Obscured in tanks of fish with shaky goals,
Accrued for foggy syrup, placed within,
A filter's clog, to make a sweetened life,
To quickly ravage thoughts of idle sin,
And check the dance of someone's drunken wife
Before the crew of new cadets could dream
Of something bigger, pulling up parades
Above the heads who just escaped a stream
Of molten rock as music now invades
The sound of happy morning coffee beans
Stampeding down a hill of leafy greens.
