Today at University they held one of their periodic Big Poster Sales, and I went and had a look and picked a couple up. There was a Grindhouse poster that was extreme;y cool, but I have a rule about only displaying the promotional material for films I have actually seen, so instead I bought one depicting the cover to Surfer Rosa by the Pixies, and a black-and-white print of Ursula Andress emerging from the sea in Doctor No. I'm pretty happy with both these purchases, but now I have a bare-breasted puritan and a slightly-below life-sized skin-diver on my wall, and it's sort of intimidating. Ursula Andress is a lot of pressure.It's not like this is just Elke Sommers or something. I'm sort of glad it's not Martine Beswick or I would probably have to start dressing behind a screen. The point of this is that cheesecake posters are a novel experience for me.

It is five o six in the morning and I just now finished watching His Girl Friday. Rosalind Russel was wonderful in it. Her delivery was incredible. But then, almost everyone had great timing and delivered an excellent performance. My one quibble is that, as is common in old films, they cast the non-entity fiance-who-we-aren't-supposed-to-root-for a little to well, by getting a guy who delivered one of the only bad performances in the picture.

However I was amazed and delighted at how nasty this film was, being so unrelenting in the jokes it makes at theexpense of the condemned criminal Williams, and asusualit was fun to pick holes in Cary Grant's accent. The guy could act-up a storm but he couldn't hold a drawl. Weird. Anyway my verdict is that it's probably one of the best films I've seen, and I'm confident in saying this about fifteen minutes after having watched it once. Although some of the references, like the Mayor wanting to hang Williams to secure a coloured vote, seemed strange because even though there true to real life, we've gotten used to not having them crop-up in films due to timidness. Films these days are simultaneously the most explicit and empty, neutered things around. Society is messed-up in this regard I guess. Dang repression.

I also got kicked out of my Philosophy class due to an enrollment mix-up. Tomorrow I will try and figure that out, since I told my professor about it a week ago and he still hasn't gotten me back in. An unreliable professor, Mr Matthew Sharpe? I will give him the benefit of the doubt.

I have once again been forced to admit that I'm not very good with people. This isn't related to anything really, but bears repeating.

Also, I am reading Heidegger for school. Heidegger believed most of the stuff that Sartre would later believe except that Sartre was capable of articulating these ideas to people who didn't already have doctorates. Basically, we don't really experience things on their own terms, the modern era has been rendered meaningless by the rationalisation out of existence of God, we need a new communal movement to bind us together and drive us towards something, and some complicated nonesense involving beings being measured by their temporality, so that a being exists to the extend which it exists in time, I don't really like or understand Heidegger.

Perhaps I should send everyone I know an email telling them exactly what I think of them?

Tags: 60s sex symbols, films, his girl friday, philosopy
Current Location: bed
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: tram rumbles