ON GOODREADS

LloydPigglyWiggly

. . . Trav S. D. reviews my book Fourteen Western Stories:

Really enjoyable — Fonvielle’s prose is lean and spare, but laden with the occasional archaism or folk idiom that give it a ring of authenticity. Especially loved the dialogue, the characters are all faintly well-mannered in a way that is both characteristic of the west and the 19th century. Reminded me of Charles Portis. And the yarns themselves are all gripping, although some end kind of abruptly. Also a couple of the tales contain appalling incidents not for the easily shocked

If you don’t know know, Trav S. D. is the author of the best (and most entertaining) modern history of vaudeville — No Applause, Just Throw Money: The Book That Made Vaudeville Famous. If you have even the vaguest interest in the subject, you’ll enjoy it immensely.

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Also on Goodreads Shelley Dell writes of the book:

story telling is an art. Lloyd Fonvielle tells a great story.

. . . and Bryan Castañeda gives it a five-star rating.

I’m very grateful to them all for taking the time to rate and review the book.

GIRLS

LenaDunham

As I was channel surfing last night I chanced upon the opening credits for an episode of Girls, the HBO series that just won a couple of Golden Globes. I’d never seen it before so decided to give it a try.

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It immediately reminded me of Seinfeld — clever, funny, sharply observed stuff about vapid, self-absorbed losers. Watching Girls I had the same feeling I used to have watching Seinfeld (in the rare times I did watch it) — that if I ever recognized myself or any of my friends in the characters on the show I would have to change my life radically or commit suicide.

Do the people who enjoy shows like this identify with the people depicted in them, or do they revel in feeling superior to and laughing at them?  Hard to decide which would be worse.

WHAT EARL SAID

EarlWeaver

You can’t sit on a lead and run a few plays into the line and just kill the clock. You’ve got to throw the ball over the god-damn plate and give the other man his chance. That’s why baseball is the greatest game of them all.

OVERLAND STAGE RAIDERS

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Loving B-Westerns is a kind of disease, and probably incurable. It’s not the worst malady in the world to suffer from, however — B-Westerns have a good deal of redeeming aesthetic value.

The acting in them is often indifferent, the plots are a messy combination of the formulaic and the preposterous, but they’re usually shot brilliantly in beautiful locations and feature extended episodes of superb horsemanship.

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What this means is that B-Westerns yield up their treasures best in first-rate prints — although they’re usually available only in really terrible prints. Hence my praise for Olive Films, which is issuing a series of B-Westerns in excellent Blu-ray editions, which allow one to savor the virtuosity of the horsebackers, the cameramen and the directors who made these delightful genre pieces.

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A case in point is the Olive Blu-ray edition of Overland Stage Raiders, a film that’s interesting on several counts.  It’s from Republic’s Three Mesquiteers series, from the time, in the late 1930s, when John Wayne was playing one of the mesquiteers.  It also features Louise Brooks in her last screen appearance as Wayne’s romantic interest.  She’s fascinating as always, mainly for her reserve and distance.  She doesn’t seem unhappy to be appearing in such a film — she just doesn’t seem to be all there.

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Sadly, she never gets to ride a horse in Overland Stage Raiders, which is a modern-day Western about a bus-line and an airline competing for business in a remote Western region.

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The mesquiteers do a lot of horseback riding, of course, protecting the good guys and rounding up the bad ones.  Silly as the story is, the film is mesmerizing visually — simply thrilling to watch in the Blu-ray edition.

The Olive Blu-ray Westerns are overpriced, but if you suffer from the B-Western malady, you’ll pay up and like it.

ESSENTIAL

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Forty years (!) after its release, after a deluge of explicit pornography has washed across and nearly drowned our culture, this film has lost its capacity to shock as it once shocked, with its sexual frankness embedded a well-made film starring a Hollywood icon.

What still startles and unsettles is the emotional nakedness of the performances by Brando and Schneider, the conceptual daring of Bertollucci, questioning the very possibility of portraying an authentic and humane erotic love in movies . . . assuming such a thing is even possible anymore in real life, perverted as real life has become by the diseased clichés of movies.

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It’s one of the most interesting, not to mention one of the greatest, films ever made, and one of the most beautifully shot — which is why it joins that list of films which justify buying a Blu-ray player just to be able to watch it in that format.