Yup. Happy New Year.
The fortune cookie-like suggestions on the timely single-function site, New Year's Resolution Generator, range from the completely pathetic (see above), the yawn-enducingly practical ("This year I will floss"), the oddly specific ("This year I will eat a whole tomato like an apple") and the potentially lifestyle-upending ("This year I will carry a purse"). Need to make a resolution? Try it out. (TheDailyWhat)
The cynical Stone is set-up like those neo-noirs John Dahl used to make in the 90s, except it’s stripped of any and all urgency. It does, though, retain the high-minded pretension toward something more meaningful that you’d get from, say, The Last Seduction. In this case, it’s an exploration of sin—its roots and its costs, themes underlined by the frequent snippets of religious talk radio smeared on the soundtrack. AM chatter is one of the pleasures enjoyed by Robert DeNiro’s parole officer; another is illicit intercourse, which he gets from an affair he reluctantly enters with the sexpot wife (Milla Jovovich, in the panty-less, Linda Fiorentino femme fatale role) of one of his cases (Edward Norton).
Last year the Movie Stills Collection posted an epic assemblage of every "The End" title from Warner Bros. movies available on DVD from between 1924 and 1967, and now, just in time for The End of 2010, the Collection's curator, Christian Annyas, has done the same with every available MGM end title from between 1925 and 1970. The one above, with its view of Times Square in the early 40s (from, hint, a film that co-starred Joan Blondell and Lana Turner) seems especially apt. Enjoy "The End" of 2010. (DesignYouTrust)
Mike Lacher, the internet humorist behind The Michael Bay-ifier and other funny websites, used his spare time on Christmas eve to launch the creepy childhood nightmare Tumblr Muppets With People Eyes, in which furry puppets' beady eyes are replaced with realistic human eyes, like some terrifying Hans Christian Andersen about a girl who becomes trapped inside her favorite doll or, scarier still, Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye. Or it's just a funny-stupid Tumblr where obviously fake puppets acquire incongruously realistic eyes. (TheDailyWhat)
Bowery-based sculptor Will Ryman, whose large, rough-hewn figurative sculptures have become increasingly visible over the last ten years, will be planting some of his trademark roses on Park Avenue in his first public art show early next year.
So, yeah. I'm pretty sick of talking/reading about the snowstorm. This timelapse video of the blizzard, filmed in Jersey by Michael Black, however, is really cool.
The Party Where You Cry—we've all been there, but chances are we weren't shedding tears for something so grave as the death of an entire class structure and way of life, like Burt Lancaster's melancholy Prince Don Fabrizio Salina. The ball scene that comprises The Leopard's full final third is justifiably famous, and the purplish claret, tawny flames in vintage candelabra, and fading frescoes look better than ever in this ravishing new restoration (cinematographer Giuseppe Rotunno approved the process, which makes his Technirama compositions bloom again). "Straddling two worlds and ill at ease in both," the Prince stands helplessly by as Italy in 1860 moves toward Garibaldi's revolution and unification. In awe at the Leopard's graceful deportment and dignity, you mourn with him.
Wanting to remind Madrid's more fortunate of the city's increasing homeless population and the municipal government's recent outlawing of taking food from the trash (€700 fine!), Spanish street art collective Luzinterruptus created this dumpster-diving Santas installation on the evening of December 23. Photographer Gustavo Sanabria tailed them through central Madrid during "Shopping With Santa," showing Mr. Claus engaging in all kinds of naughty behavior. So much for street art's rampant consumerism. (unurth)
As an archetype, the private detective is a relic—even for stories set in the early '70s. The closest we come in this age is The Investigative Journalist, which is why, in Red Riding: 1974, it's the scruffy cub reporter (Andrew Garfield) for The Yorkshire Post who takes the Marlowe-grade beatings and torturings from crooked cops when he gets Too Close To The Truth.
The distinction between street art and graffiti has always seemed like a bit of a line in the sand (or, um, a tag on a subway car?), but this chart mapping the brains of prototypical graffiti writers and street artists is about as concise and cynical a breakdown as one could hope for. See the full-size version here. (GOOD, RepresentLondon)
As you surely have no doubt noticed, things have been unusually quiet around these parts over the holidays. I will cite a deadly cocktail of post-Christmas depression and endless snow as the reason for our blogging lethargy (well, except for the office android Benjamin Sutton 3000); and as I do so, I will forewarn you that we're not likely to get a whole lot more prolific as the New Year approaches, because most of us are busy planning our outfits. See below for footage of one of our editorial meetings over the break.
Ben, I've been struggling for roughly 48 hours over whether or not I should say this out loud, whether or not I'll calm down with the passage of time. But in the days since we saw Blue Valentine my enthusiasm hasn't waned: Ben, I'm as riveted watching Ryan Gosling act as I am watching Brando in movies from the 50s! I'm not kidding you, man! If you had asked me last week to make a list of the best acted American movies of all time, it would have been a bunch of Elia Kazan films; if you asked me today, Blue Valentine might have knocked Baby Doll off the list. For real!
1. "Danger Zone": G. Dep's homage to his Harlem 'hood (like the same-named Big L track) was an amazing showcase for his monotone voice and internal rhyme-filled verses.
What if someone rewrote The Village so that instead of terrible, it was engaging, challenging, maybe a little mysterious? In Dogtooth, three semiologically scrambled children have been raised in a fortified, isolated house where they're taught that "telephone" means salt shaker and "sea" means arm chair. They exercise, re-watch home videos of themselves, and test each other's endurance (e.g., how long can you keep your finger under boiling water?). And the boy, at least, has mechanical intercourse with an outsider, a prostitute, brought in by their mad industrialist father.
facebook? did I miss something?
I never got a facebook site because I don't want to spend my free time…
"Welcome to the Machine . . . Where have you been? It's alright we know…