What a lovely combination. I've enjoyed being at high elevations this week on Mountains Hood and Bachelor. Snowshoeing on Sunday and skiing yesterday. I haven't skied in twenty years and I'm not sure why it's been so long now that I've enjoyed it again. Lots of reasons actually, and all well in the past. Looking forward, it will not be more than twenty days before I'm on skis again.
I love Central Oregon. It's a paradise over here. When I was younger I would want to move to wherever I was visiting. I'm largely over that, but being over here always makes me think.
It's especially attractive now that my primary interests in life are my family, cycling, skiing, hiking and being outdoors as often as possible. For so long, film dominated my passion, often compelling me more than even my family. It seems that fire has died down. I think some coals are burning. I'm letting them be. No buckets of water, no piles of paper -- we'll see what happens. I'm quietly stoking the coals regularly seeing Dangerous Writing through and I'm committed to do the same with Made Crooked once DW is finished. I'm not writing anything new and for now I'm not planning on it until I'm inspired to do so. Perhaps inspiration is the domain of amateurs. That's fine with me.
Even though But A Dream has been rejected from five major festivals so far, I was contacted by imbd to submit a title page. That was of some consolation and you can see it via this link.
I'm going for a walk now in the bright sunshine of Sunriver.
Ciao,
Signore Direttore
2 comments:
I confess to enjoying Slumdog Millionaire immensely. The ridiculous fable didn't bother me much--maybe a moment--as an obviously fictive frame for a picaresque through the lower orders of slum life. I didn't find much false uplift in the crap and mire and degradation of Indian poverty. I also suspect that the fable-structure of the film fits well not only into Bollywood, but into the tradition of fables worldwide, featuring stories of gingerbread houses and witches, bickering of the Olympians or Indian pantheons, or Buddha, etcetera, etcetera.... The ending of Slumdog Millionaire managed to balance both hope and recognition of intransigent justice in a way that made me come out empathetic, but not crushed. My hunch is that the current times are right for that sort of effect.
I guess you wanted to respond to my post about the Oscars rather than Sun and Snow -- threw me off for a sec. Anyway, can't agree with you on this one, David. I don't see the structure or the tone of a fable. All I see is a messy telling of a contrived story, with emphasis on the telling. The "narrator" (camera, direction, acting) never slips into the background. I love the myths and fables you mention precisely because I can get lost in them. Their timelessness disengages my need for logic. With Slumdog, that wasn't even close to the case.
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