Edmund

Still the fairest of them all

The obsessive collector in me dictated that I should take a picture of it before I finally get rid of the protective cellophane cover. My Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs: Limited Edition Diamond Collector Set arrived today. It’s quite difficult to complete these animated Disney classics, you know. Back in the early days of DVD, I sold my Platinum Edition for a very, very hefty sum. I’m not parting with this one this time around.

Question of the day

From ABC News: “Do you have hidden biases?” My answer: Of course!

The marshal’s women

High Noon, one of my all-time favorite westerns, was on TV last night. It’s based on a pulp story called The Tin Star, but I can’t help associating it with The Bride Comes to Yellow Sky, a short story by Stephen Crane about a town marshal and his new bride. Last night, I also remembered why I love High Noon: Grace Kelly and Katy Jurado.

This is my mantra every time I watch the classics: Why can’t Hollywood make beautiful movies anymore? After seeing the faces of Grace Kelly and Katy Jurado in High Noon again, I came up with yet another mantra: Why are Hollywood stars not beautiful anymore?

The girl from San Pedro

From Austin Scaggs, “Madonna Looks Back: The Rolling Stone Interview,” Rolling Stone (October 29, 2009): 51:

A lot of fans consider “Live to Tell,” from your 1986 album “True Blue,” to be your defining song. What do you remember about writing it?

Sometimes when I’m writing songs, I’m just channeling. I could say that “Live to Tell” was about my childhood, my relationship with my parents, my father and my stepmother. But maybe not. It could be about something in an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel or a story that I heard once. It’s true, but it’s not necessarily autobiographical. I could say the same thing about “La Isla Bonita.” I don’t know where that came from.

Are you telling me you never dreamt of San Pedro?

I don’t know where San Pedro is. At that point, I wasn’t a person who went on holidays to beautiful islands. I may have been on the way to the studio and seen an exit ramp for San Pedro.

Bedtime ritual

I’ve been listening to an audio book of classic and contemporary ghost stories before bedtime for some nights now (—yes, I find macabre tales quite soothing most of the time). I was expecting company for the night, so I decided that I was brave enough to listen to Algernon Blackwood’s The Empty House. The guests didn’t come, so forget about it.

Angelic non-romance

I bumped into an “old friend” yesterday—my copy of The Vintner’s Luck, and I remembered that there was going to be a film version of it. I did some research about the movie, and here are some of the things that I discovered:

1. A picture of Gaspard Ulliel as the Angel Xas:

Is this from the scene where he says, “My name is Xas. Like spit and vinegar—sass. X-A-S. I’m of the lowest of the nine orders. Unmentioned in Scripture or Apocrypha”?

2. The film was shown at the Toronto International Film Festival last September, and Gaspard Ulliel was there. (And to think that I was actually plotting to visit our beloved Inay María in Brampton that month!)

3. The Angel Xas—the hero of the book—has practically no part in the film, and the forbidden (homoerotic) love affair between him and Sobran the vintner—the central theme and the actual soul of the novel—is only “suggested” in the script.

I love Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha and Gabriel García Márquez’ El amor en los tiempos del cólera, but I vowed never to see their awful film versions. I think I don’t like to see The Vintner’s Luck movie too.

Angelic romance

I was in charge of the fire in the film Kameradschaft . . . For almost three decades I’d watch films, but Kameradschaft was the first time I’d look at anything over the camera’s shoulder . . . And despite my faithful and unfading memory, I found myself regretting you—your voice, face, gestures—as lost evidence. Why remember, when I had nothing to show for it? Now my fire is as grey as the faces of the actors and extras I knew. That monochrome radiance, the fire’s speedy, repeating tumescence, was the best we could do—the most I could want. — from The Vintner’s Luck by Elizabeth Knox (London: Vintage, 2000).

What ever happened to the film version of The Vintner’s Luck? About three years ago, there were talks that it was being made.

I think of the book’s theme and plot as bold variations on the sons of God-daughters of men episode in Genesis 6.1-4. It’s one of the saddest love stories you’ll ever read. I’m waiting for my copy of its sequel, The Angel’s Cut.

Goodbye and hello

Winter has officially begun here in St. Anthony. I’m wearing my winter boots again. But I can’t drive wearing them—I don’t feel comfortable driving with them on. So, once inside the car, I put on my beloved, worn-out, soiled, sensible, most reliable and oh-so-comfy sneakers:

I’ve been wearing them for the last five years, but today I’ve decided to give them their much-needed rest. I was brave enough to do this only because I’ve been keeping an extra, fresh and new pair all along:

The fashionista in me, by the way, also hibernates during winter.

Largesse

Each year, The Folio Society—publisher of beautiful and elegant books—gives free stuff to its members. This year, the centerpiece freebie is Victoria Finlay’s Colour, a very colorful 440-page book about—you guessed right!—color, with more than 100 colored images. And alas! Folio Magazine returns—with David Niven on the cover—celebrating Niven’s comical 1971 autobiography, The Moon’s a Balloon.

Then there’s also The World’s Heritage: A Complete Guide to the Most Extraordinary Places (the topic bores me), The Folio Book of Card Games (I’m not interested in cards and in games—any game, that is) and the Folio Society Diary 2010, which features flora and fauna.

Flora and fauna freak me out, so I don’t think I’d be using the diary.

Another childhood memory ruined

Has the world run out of original ideas? Why do they keep remaking or “updating”—and hence destroying—the good things from my childhood?

I saw the trailer of the upcoming American computer-animated 3-D film version of Astro Boy last night. I tried to keep an open mind. I was even willing to give it a chance. But they lost me the moment I heard the characters uttering lines like “Cool!” and “He’s gonna kick ass!” I really can’t stand those clichés. Besides, it’s easy to see from the clip that this new version does not have the innocence, sweetness and cuteness of the original manga and anime. I really hope that Hollywood doesn’t discover Voltes V.