SUMMER MOVIES!

Summer is here, and that means dumb movies. Don't get me wrong, I love dumb movies. Nothing beats pushing aside the velvet drapes and settling into a broken chair with a barrel of soda and a 55 gallon drum of popcorn and opening a vein. Especially in the summertime. Winter is when the Oscar contenders parade before our eyes, the tepid period pieces, overwrought dramas, and literary adaptations, but summer screens are jammed with silly fun, chase scenes, crime, super heroes, bad sequels, cartoons, sci-fi epics, lightweight love stories, and giant toys. Not every movie can be "The Bicycle Thief," right?

"These few dollars you lose here today are going to buy you stories to tell your children and great-grandchildren. This could be one of the big moments in your life; don't make it your last!" -John Dillinger

My money's on this guy. Dillinger was a bank robber who said a few clever things and got riddled with bullets outside the Biograph theater. Hope I didn't spoil it for you. Read a book, for godsakes. Anyway, Johnny Depp is playing him in a new movie, and unlike Dillinger, Depp can do no wrong. In the box office, anyway. Dillinger's story has been made into several movies. Here's one of them. I could make some easy comments about crime movies and how they provide a catharsis for the viewer, but in the end enforce the social code. After providing vicarious thrills, the scofflaw dies in the last reel and order is restored.


Crime movies are essentially morality tales, and conservative in nature. In the old days these values were enforced by the Hays movie code, a set of industry guidelines controlling what went on the screen. A crook or a hussy MUST get punished; crime could NOT pay. Period. And there were detailed rules that had to be followed or the film couldn't be released. It wasn't until Bonnie and Clyde came out in the sixties that the crooks got away with it...no, actually they got riddled with bullets in the last reel, but they seemed to have some fun as endearing anti-heroes who wore their costumes well.

Bonnie and Clyde, 1967

They were glamorous and you rooted for them, and this caused quite a stir at the time. Their punishment wasn't swift and antiseptic but brutal and sadistic, the camera lingering on their bodies as they were shot in slow motion. Director Arthur Penn clearly sided with the outlaws, and the lawmen were portrayed as uptight authority figures, stingy obsessed jerks, reflecting the time the film was released in 1967.

The real Bonnie and Clyde weren't nearly as sexy, as you can see from this photograph. They look like, well, crooks. They had some style, sure, but they weren't exactly Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty. I wonder what tack the new Dillinger flick takes. What kind of crook do we deserve?

Johnny Depp as Dillinger, 2009

IL PALIO

Today is Il Palio, the rough and tumble bareback horse race circling the Piazza del Campo in beautiful, medieval Siena. In the race, ten horses and riders, selected from the seventeen contrade (neighborhoods), circle the Campo three times. The race lasts 90 seconds. Ironically, with its unfurled silk banners and medieval garb, and of course its incomparable setting, a piazza that hasn't changed since the Black Death, the race exists beyond time, a chunk of the Middle Ages catapulted into the present day.

To watch the race (and to hear a chilly English academic dissect it in dry sociological terms) watch this film clip.



After a chance encounter in Siena, we're rooting for the snails this year. To see why, and to watch another hair-raising race, read my previous post about the Palio here.

Latebreaking news: We just learned the Tartuca (tortoise) contrada won today's race. Good job, turtles!

WILCO RIDES AGAIN

Wilco, and the amazing suits


You Are My Face

Wilco showed up on Conan decked out in old Nashville style, looking like they had hijacked the Burrito Brothers' tour bus and stolen their Nudie suits...but where was Gram Parsons' peyote-and-pills ensemble? Don't tell me, probably behind glass somewhere. Weep not, for Gram, that grievous angel still watches over drunks and country bands smiling and peeing from a great height.

Gram Parson's cosmic cowboy duds behind glass

Gram did everything to excess and serves as a warning to all about overdoing the booze and the dope, but he sure wore a snazzy suit. Check it out. Handcrafted by Nudie himself, the tailor to all the great country stars from Elvis on up, but unlike the suit Nudie made for Porter Wagner this one carries marijuana leaves, pills, and peyote buttons. Gram never met a drug he didn't like, and now he's dead. End of lesson. The story goes Gram turned Keith Richards on to open E tuning and country music, and Richards turned Gram on to heroin. Not a fair trade.

Jeff Tweedy in a very cool suit. Is that Hello, Kitty?

Wilco carries that old time Americana spirit, and this is gentle late night whiskey drinking music. Ever since Uncle Tupelo, the prototypical alt.country band, broke into pieces, we followed Jeff Tweedy into Wilcoville. They can play straight country, or bring out some weird dissonant music that's as edgy as any dissonant electro, sometimes in the same song. They have a new album called, creatively enough, "Wilco, the Album." Go get it today. And if you see Jeff, could you tell him to hook me up with a suit?


One Wing, a new song

SUNDAY GRAVY

Meet the Bellinos. They're cooking up a batch of Sunday Sauce, aka Gravy in certain Italian-American enclaves. This is real "down home cooking," and nobody is putting on airs. This scene cracks me up. This sort of homemade ethnic food is discovered by foodies and tarted up in expensive restaurants, but there is no comparison with the real family recipe perfected over generations. Foodies will tell you all about osso bucco, say, or risotto, or polenta, as if it's something new--and in all fairness, maybe it's new to them. Bite your tongue. Smile, don't wince, when they mangle words like "gnocchi," "biscotti," "ricotta," and even "marinara." (Not to mention "bruschetta," which is pronounced "brew-Sketta" by the way, not "brew-SHETTA.") Oh, and by all means avoid correcting their mispronunciations; they'll only think you're a snob or a know-it-all--even if you first heard these words pronounced in Italian. That is, correctly. "But everyone says biz-SCOTTY," they'll say, feeling bruised. Or my favorite, "I've heard it pronounced both ways."

I know, I know. Enough talk. Now let's sit down and eat.

UMBRIA BELLA

Just over the Tuscan border lies Umbria, a region of hilly countryside settled by the Etruscans long before Romulus and Remus suckled at the teats of the she-wolf. The region is bordered by Tuscany to the west and la Marche to the east, and locals hunt the hills for wild boars and delicious mushrooms. They also grow grapes, which are made into world famous wines.


Asissi is an Umbrian town famous for St. Francis, a monk who challenged the materialism of the all powerful church and founded an order of monks known for their vow of poverty. The 12th century mystic is perhaps the most beloved of the Catholic saints and visitors come from around the world to pay their respects.

We stayed in at an Umbrian agriturismo. "Agriturismo" is an Italian term for "agricultural tourism," or what we might call a farm holiday, where rooms are provided for travelers as a way to help family farms survive. We stayed in a cabin on the farm overlooking the vineyards. It wasn't as rustic as you might think--we didn't exactly work on the farm. In fact, there was a swimming pool and a bocce court. Playing bocce in this setting made up for losing. Wendy's all-women team defeated every men's team that dared challenge it.

This is wine country. The grapes growing outside our door were used to produce six different wines, three whites and three reds, and we tried them all. We ate hearty Umbrian food and had a wine tasting one evening. We were near the border of Tuscany, and a local noted that the hill we facing a hill we faced was Montepulciano. Montepulciano, home of the Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, one of Italy's best wines (for a cheaper, but excellent wine, try the Rosso di Montepulciano). Another nearby hilltown is Montalcino, famous for it's remarkable Brunello. Wine snobs could go ape here, but the Italians seem to appreciate wine as part of the meal, which is part of la dolce vita. To them, it's excellent, but it's the local wine. Of course it's good!

Orvieto is a beautiful Etruscan town that rests like a crown on a mountain of volcanic Tufa rock. The high position helped it defend itself against marauders. Orvieto is famous for its beautiful church, covered with frightening apocalyptic visions, and its gorgeous fortress-like town. We walked through the town and soaked up the local beauty, touring the church and thanking God we weren't suffering the eternal torment of the damned.

We had lunch at a remarkable little spot, Trattoria dell'Orso, where we ate homemade tagliatelle served with wild mushrooms--and with cherry tomatoes, basil, and scamorza. The secondo was roasted chicken stuffed with truffles. Ciro Cristiano, the kindly co-owner (with Chef Gabriele di Giandomenico), recited delicious details of the food they were preparing (as opposed to breaking out a menu) and was an extremely gracious host.

We chatted about our travels. He asked if I was Italian, and I told him about my ancestry (Southern Italian, and Sicilian) and he told us about his trips to those areas further south (he is originally from Napoli) and insisted I visit them. After each course, he asked if we were full or if we'd like to hear what else was cooking. Afterward, we exchanged business cards, and he laughed at my cartoon self-portrait. The food, by the way, was extraordinary, and I had no better in Italy. It's not surprising this little out of the way trattoria was written up in the New York Times.

Tuscany and Umbria are absolutely beautiful, but Umbria is more remote and untouched. Umbria is probably what Tuscany looked like before it was "discovered" by Frances Mayes and "Under the Tuscan Sun" brought people in droves. Now the world has caught on, so it's not surprising to find "Tuscan-style" pizza advertised at Pizza Hut, or "Tuscan Tacos" at Taco Bell. As terrible as that may sound, this area will endure. It has survived countless invaders and it will survive the latest wave of tourists and tacky Americanized imitations. Still, you should get there as soon as you can because it would be a shame to miss this for too long.

SOMETHING WILD!

Melanie Griffith, Jeff Daniels, and a wicked Ray Liotta make this Jonathan Demme road movie turn from screwball comedy to nightmare thriller faster than you can say "psycho ex-boyfriend." A brilliant and entertaining film that surprises you at every turn, and one of the best films of the 1980s.

Charlie (Daniels) is a timid square who thinks he's a rebel (so many of those around, eh?) and punky femme fatale Lulu (Griffith) pulls him into a wild ride of sex and madness. You could go on about Demme's critique of middle class values, American violence, subcultures, and high school reunions, but that would spoil the fun and give you the wrong idea. If you've never seen this, watch it here in its entirety.

Live a little, Charlie!

SITA SINGS THE BLUES

Sita Sings the Blues is a beautiful animated feature film written, directed, produced and animated entirely by American artist Nina Paley.

The film weaves together events from the Ramayana, illustrated conversation between Indian shadow puppets, musical interludes voiced with tracks by Annette Hanshaw and scenes from the artist's own life. The ancient mythological and modern biographical plot are parallel tales, sharing numerous themes.

a note from the artist, Nina Paley.