What We Do is Secret

A year and a half ago I covered the Germs show and have been waiting for the Darby bio pic since. So it was I took Cooky to see WHAT WE DO IS SECRET.

It also happened to be the first flick seen at the newly opened Landmark Theaters, and Mark Cuban did it right. These things are nice.

So our annual sojourn to the LA Film Festival was fun, and while I didn't make it, I heard the Germs - Pat, Lorna and Don, with actor Shane West - played in the Village. I must say, for the longest time I've lamented to any and all how ironic it is that LA is the movie capital of the world and yet we have no - and never have had - a world class film fest. (Ah, Filmex, recuerdo, yo recuerdo) That's slowly changing for the better, with Silverlake really coming on strong and the LA Film Fest now doing some very positive things.

And ending on a positive note, sometime later Cooky mentioned that she would have liked to been around LA during the punk era. I asked why, and she said that it seemed fun and interesting. That compared to the mersh crap going on now it was real.

I just smiled and told her that while there was plenty of goofy stuff, it was fun.

Talk to Me

Saw a screening of Kasi Lemmons', Talk To Me, with Fish and really enjoyed it. Cheadle is always solid but it's good to see Chiwetel Ejiofor gettin' his, despite my misgivings about Children of Men and how it was racialized. Taraji Henson gets hers too, and lookin' finer 'n shit.

As someone who was too young to fully participate in the counter-culture of the 60's and 70's, I of course still respond to that era with fondness; that much, the flick accomplishes well, replete with all the right if somewhat familiar soul funk sounds. (The Chambers Brothers' "Time" being the one exception as it's rock)

And Petey Greene's story is, of course, a nitty gritty one worth every dime. Interestingly enough, it's just as much a story about Dewey Hughes, Petey's success hungry agent, friend and later manager. In this way, TTM is like A Star is Born.

What I found interesting to think about was the way race was portrayed - intra-race as well as inter-race relations. Things like "Authenticity" and "Being Real" are negotiated and in flux in this movie in fairly fluid ways in the first part of the flick. I don't wanna talk about it because it'd be a spoiler, so....

The other thing I liked was the way it brought home how much the boomers cared - no matter how goofy they were, those muthaphukas gave a damn and did shit.

Gotta give dap on that.

Vanity (Un)Fair

As I glanced at the cover of Vanity Fair's, "Africa Issue," I did my usual furrowing of the brow. After all, what can one of my countenance do when confronted with the silliness, the stupidity and just plain full of crap chest thumping that mass media doles out? Truth is, crap has always been a staple. After all, over eighty years ago, what were the Dadaists and Surrealists rebelling against if not the mediocrity of ideas run rampant?

But this was pretty over the top big agency manufactured; 21 stars and otherwise notables, from Ali to Mandela to - god help us - George Dumbya Bush. Shot by no less than Annie Liebowitz.

What I find so annoying about this kind of patronizing - aside from the obvious pat-your-head unctuous-ness that goes along with patronizing - is the utter brazen-ness. I love the way white folks can just figure anything out, how their take is the take on a situation, from AIDS to terrorism.

Just right now I have endured the third viewing of the AmEx spam piece with Alicia Keyes, Cheryl Crow, and, Scorsese???

Caramba...

Much like the absent and sorely missed "Black Looks" blog piece that I posted a while ago, I think that the kind of patronizing our mass media conducts infantilizes the viewer/reader. Simply, they toss celebrity at huge problems, problems that require structural change, infra-structural change. I don't expect that they truly believe that they can help, but it makes me think of how in this modern age one goes to a Lakers game and walks into the Staples Center and is utterly bombarded by spam. Only now, with Vanity Fair and Africa, it's celebrity public relations spam. They're getting us to "buy in" to their "good-ness", no doubt the fruition of many an agent's connections.

FADE IN - BACKYARD, GEORGE TAKEI'S HOUSE - DUSK
A throng of celebs and power mongers imbibe under a BANNER which reads: "Happy B-DAY GEORGE". The CAMERA TRACKS IN to an AGENT and EDITOR - two of the many present.

Agent: I heard you're planning an "Africa Issue."
VF Editor: It's slated for June of '07.
A: Take your pick, you got the roster.
VFE: I dunno Jeremy....
A: Hey, I got you Ricky Martin that time.
VFE: That wasn't the "Africa Issue."
A: I still delivered, and he was white hot.
VFE: Like he didn't need us.
A: You know "People" woulda dropped trow for him then.
VFE: Depends on who was droppin' trow.
A: Ah, well. AFRICA! I like the sound of it...
VFE: You and every agent schmuck here.
A: Nevermind about my aspirations, let's talk cover.
VFE: (spritzes drink) OH LOOK whose balls have grown larger than his big mouth...
A: C'mon man.
VFE: It's gonna cost ya.
A: I got deep pockets. And then some.
VFE: Christ, you went to Yale Law School to ho around like this?
A: Hey, "Thaaaaat's poker." I mean, it's a living.

Bully

T2

John Conner: We're not gonna make it, are we? Humans, I mean.

Terminator: It's in your nature to destroy yourselves.

A Letter to O

I received this recently:

Greetings to all my colleagues, friends and family,

A funny thing happened on this fine day. I got to type these six magic letters: THE END. After 10 years and five months, 15 chapters and an epilogue at 598 pages, I have finally completed a first draft of my post WWII novel, "Justines." A rambling over grown weed of a story that began as that of a young girl growing up in a rough and tumble, male dominated East St. Louis juke joint. It isn’t as smooth as I would like. Loose ends and plot holes abound. Being the notorious perfectionist I am. But it is finished. At long last. The struggle is over. The true work now begins.

Had to share the news.

Ofay Peckerwood


Dear Ofay,

I think we've known each other for about the life span of "Justines." During that time I've come to know you as an uncompromising artist, but even more solid person. There's no speaking to "Justines," just yet, but there's no doubt when I say that you embody the best in us; an unwavering morality, rock solid fairness, an intellect that never sleeps, a great laugh, and loyalty that, when called upon, has never faltered.

Truly a brotha. Truly my brotha.

I salute your accomplishment. But far beyond your artistic accomplishments, you by far are your best work.

Excelsior,

Bruce Li

Manchild in the Promised Land

As of this writing the Cavs are stepping onto hoopdom's grandest stage against the heavily favored Spurs. What's so remarkable is the audacity of LeBron who, at 22, is nothing short of amazing. That's not news and plenty have written far more eloquent praise, but I'm going to make one comparison that I think is apt.

Before that though, let me say that I think LeBron's performance is the second most remarkable by a young player.

First place belongs to Magic; rookie year, who went in against the classic 76er team led by Doc, and so thoroughly dominated that to this day people who saw that performance speak in awe.

LeBron is the real deal though. He ain't no joke.