A grumpy Sunday during which I moped around and could barely get anything done was redeemed by a good meal with my old writer-artist friend ZP, and a solid movie directed by an old pro, Martin Scorsese. The flick was The Departed and it's an exciting gangster picture full of twists and turns. Jack Nicholson is in full deranged bloom as a maniacal Irish-American mob chieftain, and it's fun to watch Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio in their respective roles as turncoat detective and undercover cop matching wits with ole Jack. Alec Baldwin plays a top cop and has some really funny dialogue, and Mark Wahlberg and Martin Sheen are also excellent as two different types of crusading policemen. Finally, newcomer actress Vera Farmiga is both sexy and thoughtful in the role of Damon's lady friend, who develops a special link to DiCaprio's character--making for a most intriguing triangle. Our tickets cost eleven dollars at the theater near Union Square, but both ZP and I felt we'd really got our money's worth with this straightforward and unpretentious thriller, which was inspired by a Chinese crime film series.

Well, it's time to get ready for bed since I have to wake up around dawn to go out to my freelance gig in New Jersey, but I thank Scorsese for having put me in a better mood thanks to his virtuoso handling of The Departed. I also thank ZP for listening to me hash over my day's various annoyances while we ate our burgers...annoyances which do not merit being re-hashed here!

Hmm...I've seen three movies in theaters in the last seven days...I sense a new trend in my viewing habits.

As a big sign used to say on the "old" 42nd Street--"Get More Out of Life! See A Movie!"

I went to a movie memorabilia show today and had a real nice time. It was a good contrast to my stressful week of worrying about finding new sources of freelance income.

I bought a few DVDs of old movies, including a serial starring George Reeves, who starred as Superman in the 1950s tv show. I also got a girlie magazine from 1958 that had good pictures of Brigitte Bardot, as well as a striking color pinup of a forgotten but beautiful British brunette named Lyn Shaw...it's funny, too, but the magazine, not a famous or particularly successful one, had some good cartoons and also some short stories that looked worth reading...so forty-eight years after it hit the stands, HIGH magazine (for that was the title of it) found another satisfied customer...

I also got a film buff magazine from 1986 that had a good article about John Garfield, one of my favorite tough guys actors. Largely forgotten today by the general public, he was a big star in the late 30s and 40s. He was a rowdy Jewish street kid from the Bronx who got put on the path to success by a teacher who involved him in debating, boxing, and dramatics. He became a Broadway actor and then he went to Hollywood. He died in 1952 of a heart attack brought on by the stresses of being investigated during the days of the blacklist, when the patriotic loyalty of Hollywood talent was questioned by the government. This made it impossible for some actors, writers, and directors to find work as long as they were under a cloud of suspicion about whether or not they had ever been communists.

I've read a lot about Garfield but this article had a touching detail I'd never read before. When he moved into his first house in Hollywood (a rental), he hung a salami in the kitchen, to remind himself of his humble origins back in the Bronx. Hanging salamis have a special resonance in my own life, too. My father, who was born in Brooklyn but moved to Chicago, always had one hanging in our kitchen...the air would make it harden, and the taste was so delicious...we would cut slices off just to munch, or to use them for sandwiches...when I went away to college, my father sent me salamis...and I hung them up in my dorm room to harden...they don't have an odor, because they're encased in a plastic wrap...they just wrinkle and harden until they are ready to eat.

Anyway, salami is a comfort food to me. When I feel stressed, I notice that I often make myself a salami sandwich, or order a salami omelette in a diner...I've since come to recognize salami sandwiches or salami omelettes as a way of conjuring up the spirit of my father when I'm feeling insecure and anxious. I had my issues with him, but my dad always seemed to love me when he was cutting me a slice of kosher salami or making me a sandwich...I can see us sitting at the kitchen table, with the salami partly unwrapped to where it would be cut, and the knife sliding down to hack off a slice...my father would hand me the slice like it was the food of the gods. It sure seemed like just about the most delicious thing. When people share something they deeply enjoy, it's a way of showing love, isn't it?

Anyway, there was a special guest at the memorabilia show: Ed "Kookie" Byrnes, from the old 77 Sunset Strip show. I talked with him a little. A friendly guy, totally down-to-earth. He was signing autographs and copies of his autobiography. People of a certain age will remember what a huge teen idol he was in the late 50s, early 60s...he even had combs on display, combs being his trademark as "Kookie," always making sure his hair was in place...

Yes, I enjoy these memorabilia shows a lot. The dealers are a friendly and knowledgeable bunch of people...we talk about everything from pinups to movie stars...it's like time-traveling on a group tour...because everybody there really enjoys the vintage sights.

Let us stop for a moment and observe a moment of silence to honor the memory of a great actor who was born today 124 years ago--BELA LUGOSI. It was October 20, 1882 when he came into the world. It’s hard to imagine him as a baby, and without a cape, but nonetheless he was born of woman just like the rest of us.

Uncle Bela was the greatest of movie Draculas...immortal also as Ygor, twisted friend of the Frankenstein monster in Son of Frankenstein...and initially super-suave and then mirthfully homicidal as Dr. Richard Vollin in one of the most entertaining and loony movies of all time, 1935’s The Raven--not to be confused with the 1963 Roger Corman film of the same title.

A personal favorite of mine is one of Bela’s relatively benign roles, as Dr. Benet in The Invisible Ray. He plays the scientist who harnesses the healing power of the mysterious element Radium X, but then falls victim to the vengeance of the insane and radioactive Dr. Rukh (Boris Karloff).

Contrary to the image of Lugosi at the end of his life as a forgotten man, he was not forgotten at all, but beloved by young fans who befriended him in his last few years. They accompanied him everywhere from shoe repair shops to movie premieres. You can read more about this in the articles “Lugosi Lives” and “The Lugosi Legacy” in the new issue of Scary Monsters (#60), a fun fan magazine that is always packed with interesting kernels of new knowledge about the kings of horror cinema. I don’t work for the mag, I just love to read it. I included a link to their site below.

Meanwhile, moving into the present day of cinema, I can report that the film I saw last night, The Illusionist, is very entertaining, telling the story of a stage magician in early 1900s Europe. Edward Norton plays “Eisenheim,” a man of humble origin who becomes the entertainment rage of Vienna, whereupon he again encounters the highborn girl (Jessica Biel) with whom he was in love as an adolescent, but separated from because of his lowly social status. She is now a countess and about to be married to the Crown Prince of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the handsome but controlling Leopold (Rufus Sewell). Paul Giamatti wittily plays the police inspector caught up in the intrigue between the magician and the aristocrats.

The film is full of beautiful effects, the most memorable involving ghostly apparitions, butterflies, and swords, as Eisenheim defies the haughty Prince with emotionally charged magical performances. Ultimately Eisenheim and his beloved young countess risk everything not only to be together, but to challenge the Prince’s plans to usurp his father’s throne.

Chief among the film’s magical effects are the many lingering closeups of Jessica Biel, who is unbelievably beautiful to look at. Yes, you know what I'm going to say next (I'm so predictable): Miss Jessica now has a place of honor at the top of my Mental Pinup Parade. I know she was regular on some television show previously, but I’d never seen her before since I don’t watch much tv...and what a loss for me! Shame on you, Cranky! I will bend over for my spanking now...anyway, I am so glad I saw this movie on the big screen, where it felt as if you were looking right into her eyes during those closeups. O Edward Norton, thou art truly lucky to do love scenes with Jessica Biel! I understand that last year Esquire magazine elected Jessica as the most beautiful woman in the world--well, she would have been a worthy choice two years in a row. And she's got my vote for 2007.

I duly noted and appreciated how the film did not neglect to slip in a shot of Jessica in tight riding breeches, all the better to show off the shape of her stunning derriere.

As a portrayal of the derring-do required to be a great magician, conjurer, wizard, or whatever you wish to call it--The Illusionist delivers. Norton is suave and self-contained even as his great passion for the countess leads him to endanger his life with the most daring feats of his career. The movie didn’t overdo the atmosphere or costumes to the point where it was distracting; it set the scene nimbly with decor and dress, and proceeded to tell its story. Written and directed by Neil Burger, with fine music by Philip Glass, it was based on a short story by Steven Millhauser, which I will now have to dig up and read pronto.

Next up on my movie menu: The Departed with Jack Nicholson, directed by Martin Scorsese; and Flags of Our Fathers, helmed by Clint Eastwood. Lately, I don’t just want to watch DVDs, but want to head out to the multiplex again...I guess seeing California Split and The Illusionist back to back, two movies that are best seen in a theater, has reminded me forcefully of the pleasures of the giant screen.

ScaryMonsters

I’m going to see the new film The Illusionist tonight. It stars Edward Norton and that tasty morsel Jessica Biel. It’s about a stage magician in nineteenth century Europe, to me a most intriguing subject matter.

I’ve always been fascinated by magic as entertainment. As a kid, before I got really interested in movies, I was obsessed with magic tricks and actually performed shows at birthday parties to make extra pocket money. My father had a business card printed up for me to use, with the impressive title “Magician and Entertainer” underneath my name. I’m afraid I was a most mediocre and unimaginative prestidigitator. I was always afraid of messing up and letting my audience see what they weren’t supposed to. I fumbled my way through the standard effects, like the Chinese linking rings, making coins disappear and then reappear in a nest of boxes, cutting a rope into pieces and restoring it, snatching money out of thin air (never did that one very well at all), changing scarves into different colors, and making eggs disappear in a red cloth bag.

I’m afraid I wasn’t daring enough as a kid, or as a person in general, to ever be good as a magician. Although the evocatively-worded mail order magic catalogs--true masterpieces of salesmanship--whetted my appetite to buy new equipment that would finally turn me into a charismatic and accomplished performer, the art and craft of mystification was never my forté. I just couldn’t relax and “go into the zone” when I performed magic, using the phrase people apply to that state of mind that you achieve where time seems irrelevant as you immerse yourself in an act of creativity. When I write, I do go “into the zone,” but writing is a solitary act which is more suited to my personality. In contrast, the ultimate manifestation of magic is collaborative, all the practice in solitude of mechanical effects or sleight of hand aiming to achieve a compact between the performer and the audience; and if the wizard is always nervous that he’s going to screw up, he can’t really make the spectators feel comfortable and have genuine fun.

But every once in awhile I see a magic catalog or a display of tricks, and the old itch appears in my psyche, and I might spend two weeks teaching myself a sleight of hand move (badly). When my father used to show me how my tricks might be better performed, he always seemed to do them with brio and a relaxed manner--making me feel pretty inadequate to the task. He was a bit of an unfulfilled performer himself, once having thought of doing an Abbott and Costello type of act with a friend. Instead of following his impulse to entertain (or become an artist, another interest of his) he went to graduate school and became a professional man, and got married and raised a family far from any sort of glitzy spotlight.

I've always been entertained by the lore of early and mid-twentieth century magic, with its roster of legendary names like Houdini, the Great Herrmann, Chung Ling Soo, Thurston, Blackstone, et al, and its fantastic posters, which I think are second only to movie posters in their ability to get my adrenalin flowing. For his recent stunt of staying under water for seven days in a bubble in New York's Lincoln Center, contemporary magician David Blaine featured a poster that very much recalled the advertising style of the early greats.

So magic has always had its own special little shelf in the crowded nooks of my psyche, and I’m looking forward to seeing The Illusionist. Just keep me away from those magic catalogs...although I can still cut a deck of cards in one hand!

For those who are new to reading this blog, I am a freelance worker and my prospective income has taken a bit of a pounding lately due to some unexpected schedule changes by my main client. As the reality of having to find new freelance accounts sinks into my inertia-bathed brain, I did a bit of work on speculation this week, hoping it will bring in some extra cash. I was pleased with the result, and hope the potential client for it will be, too.

Still, I sometimes feel befuddled by anxiety and don't know where to start. I have to make "to do" lists to remind myself of steps to take. And I haven't made that list yet today...

A problem with working at home is that you can get easily distracted. I get less distracted when I have a specific task to accomplish; but when I have to do something more amorphous such as pitch my talents or ideas, I just want to bury my head in the metaphorical sand and read a film buff magazine. Oh yes, here's an article I MUST READ NOW about a rare Bela Lugosi film...

I go onto the classified ad site craigslist looking for potential freelance opportunities, and then when I've read enough of these grammatically-challenged ads offering no compensation for enormous amounts of work, my attention swerves to the always fascinating "Casual Encounters" and "Women Seeking Men' sections. Mm, a twentysomething Asian babe has fantasies of being a "slave girl" to a "white master"...however, that's not me. I'd rather be submissive myself to a haughty Asian chick and please her exactly as she'd like...

Why couldn't I get a job doing that?

Because I bet they're all taken, and understandably so.

Nonetheless, I'll keep my eye out for any ads like, "Evil Geisha seeks White Fool."

All right, I'm just horsing around. I really have to do something productive today. I can throw out a quip or two here, but when I really start to feel like I'm just goofing around with my day instead of making strides, I get depressed.

Sir Cranky depressed is not a pretty sight.

So let me make that "to do" list now. I'll check in again tomorrow.