Party Down With the Seriously Sick

I'm not terminally sick, just seriously. No energy, lazy, feverish... Still, I managed to do a couple of things today. Maybe not what "priority" would normally drive me to do, but what the hell, it's not what you do that counts, it's what you WANT to do, right ?

So I got up seriously late. I need to get as much sleep as I can, to recover. And drink lots of water. Which is why I swallow one giant cup of tea every hour. I researched some things on the internet. I'm working on two things right now : a media analysis of Zaha Hadid's Rosenthal Center for the Performing Arts, in Cincinnati, and an argumentary piece about Highway 30's construction. I have two courses (a typo made me write "curses") remaining and these both are my final term paper subjects. Thing is... I'm running late ! Didn't plan on being sick and all.

Afterwards, I went to sit outside with my Powerbook but couldn't do anything next because my landlord came to sit with me to have a chat. We calmly argued about the rent hike he had given me and I made him lower it the best I could. Then my mother picked me up so we could get sumthin' to eat.

We went to Kilo and I ate a Sky sandwich. You know how big these mofo's are. Couldn't fit the sandwich in my mouth. Avocado + tomatoes = allergies !! Big lips. You know the drill. Went to pick up my free passes for SLITHER once we were done. Dunno what the movie'll look like. I ain't afraid but I heard I should be ? Afterwards, I drove myself to Boîte Noire, where I rented a Fassbinder western, a documentary about the WTC, and the dud SAN-ANTONIO.

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I've always been a pretty big fan of Frédéric Dard. If you set aside his mysoginy, the guy's alright; fun, playful, prolific. He wrote hundreds of San-Antonio books - reportedly one every two months. In the summer, he'd "take a break" and write a "more serious" novel under his real name. Lots of movies have been shot, based on his books. Joël Séria made a one in 1981 (SAN ANTONIO NE PENSE QU'À ÇA) and Guy Lefranc also shot SALE TEMPS POUR LES MOUCHES in '66.

And now that. This... piece of crap ! Litterally. I could find no redeeming value, except Michel Galabru being so very cabotin. Gérard Lanvin plays the lead, and Gérard Depardieu is Bérurier. Is it me or does his career start to stink ?



Anyway, there's not much to say : every actor does the minimum, and the script is soooo bad it hurts. Mysoginy unfortunately finds it way onscreen one too many times. I couldn't believe how mediocre everything about this movie was. The music, the "action" scenes, the punches... Holy fuck, there's even a scene in Rio, towards the end, where the DOP cannot even let us see a bit about the city. I know it's not a tourism documentary. But when the best thing about your movie is the breathtaking city you're shooting in, you'd better make good use of it, no ?

Well, no. I'm sorry to report I feel cheated :-)