We watched the SAG-AFTRA awards last night on I-forget-which-channel. We had tuned in because they were going to give a “Lifetime Achievement Award” to Carol Burnett.
Garry has quite a collection of such awards.
He calls them the “dodging bullets” awards. If you manage to stay in the business long enough and don’t die young, you begin collecting “Lifetime Achievement” awards. Which means your career is finished, but your friends would like you to have some hardware by which to remember it.
Garry paid his dues to AFTRA — American Federation of Television and Radio Artists — now part of SAG, the Screen Actor’s Guild, for his entire career. More than 40 years and it wasn’t cheap. He was also the union shop steward for a number of years.
So when the current prez of SAG got up and was talking about what great stuff they do for their members, Garry started shouting at the screen.
I gave in and bought a couple of Topaz filters. They’ve been sending me tempting emails for months … maybe years, come to think of it. But they are expensive and I have other filters. Finally, I gave in and bought the Clean filter — which really ought to be called the “Cartoon” filter — plus the gigantic Textures filter.
Textures works as either a standalone or as a plugin. It works better as a Photoshop plugin than as a standalone — which doesn’t make sense. I think I’m actually going to have to watch one of the tutorials because there’s a lot to it. But I’ve been saying that about Photoshop for about 20 years and I still haven’t done it. I used to write manuals for software, so I’m the kind of user I hated, the one who never looks at the book and just wings it.
On a more positive note, the things I have done with it have come out pretty well.
It took more than an hour to download and another hour to install. As I said — it’s big.
Clean is not a standalone. It only works as a Photoshop plugin.
The other day, my talented granddaughter gave me a makeover. I’ve been messing around with selfies and hated all of them … until I “cartooned” them with Clean. Voila!
It’s a bit intense for skin on portraits, but it’s a bundle of fun if realism is not your goal. The colors remain true. This last picture is about as realistic as I could make it.
The 1936 Hitchcock thriller, Sabotage, could be a story for the present day. Foreign saboteurs are planning terror attacks on a big city. No one is sure who these people are or why they are planning these things. In this adventure the city is London and the time frame is “the present,” in other words the mid 1930s. It is loosely based on a story by Joseph Conrad, Secret Agent. Hitchcock released another film in 1936 named Secret Agent. It is no relation.
In SabotageLondon experiences a blackout which most take in good humor. At a local theater, patrons are demanding their money back, and when the wife goes to see if her husband, the theater owner, is home he claims to have been there all along. We have seen that he has just returned. He is the saboteur.
Oskar Homolka, the Austrian actor, plays the theater owner. You are left to guess what European country or group he may be working for. Sylvia Sydney plays his wife, apparently an American, while her younger brother, played by Desmond Testor, sounds rather British. Homolka as Karl Verloc does not come across as particularly evil, but rather caught up in the plot.
Scotland Yard is suspicious of Verloc and has Detective Sergeant Spencer on the case. He is undercover as a grocer assistant at the business next to the movie theater. He ultimately befriends Mrs. Verloc and her brother to get information.
Unhappy with the results of the blackout, the saboteurs want Verloc to plant a bomb that will terrorize London. It is to go to the station at the Piccadilly London underground at a busy time of day. Verloc does not want to coöperate with anything that may cause loss of life, but is threatened by his contact who apparently has some hold over him.
The film was released in America in 1937 under the title The Woman Alone. I guess you could say Mrs. Verloc is alone in this story. She is unaware of her husband’s activities and seemingly has no one else. Well, no one else until the concerned Scotland Yard detective comes along. He obviously becomes fond of her as the story progresses.
Although early in his career, the film shows some of the aspects of the great Hitchcock films. As we build to what is supposed to be the big moment of the terror plot, we see the rapid fire cutting of scenes, to take in not just the faces of the people around the bomb, but the clock as we watch the time move faster and faster to when the bomb is supposed to explode. Things are not unfolding as planned, and then they take a Hitchcock style plot twist. We will leave the rest to you in case you wish to track this down, that is, the bomb maker, the other criminals, the men of Scotland Yard.
It is not going to land on the top 10 Hitchcock movies, or even the top 15. It is just an interesting early work of a director who will ultimately become a master of this type of intrigue and suspense. This certainly is not very satisfying when compared to other Hitchcock fare.
The 1930 drama, Murder, is an early Hitchcock piece that exhibits some brief moments of Hitchcock style, but basically contains all the elements of bad early “talkies.” It does not contain that much of interest. I fear its great reviews of more recent years are based on the reputation of the master of suspense and has little to do with this work.
The plot starts out like Twelve Angry Men, but does not go down that road for long. Written by Hitchcock, his wife Alma Reville and Walter C. Mycroft the story is based on the novel and play, Enter Sir John. The story opens with a young actress being accused of the murder of another member of an acting company. She seems to have been caught red-handed with the murder weapon at hand. One of the jurors, Sir John, does not think she is guilty and after all jurors give in to the guilty verdict, including Sir John, he decides to investigate.
The lead character is played by Herbert Marshall, who went on to a long career in Hollywood films. Norah Baring plays the actress about to face the gallows. Yes, they were going to hang the beauty. This give Hitchcock the nice opportunity to show us the shadow of the noose as the gallows are being built outside the cell window. There is no need to show the actual building when he can terrorize the audience through shadow and sound.
The lighting and editing are poor, more often than not. A little of that may be due to restoration. Hitchcock admitted in an interview years later that the actors were encouraged to improvise dialogue in scenes that were not quite finished. “The result wasn’t good; there was too much faltering. They would carefully think over what they were about to say and we didn’t get the spontaneity I had hoped for.”
This might account for the slow pacing and awkward pauses we find in many places. Also, the actors are playing as if they are in a theater rather than in a movie. It is not uncommon to see this in early talking pictures with actors who were trained for the stage. The over dramatization of all the actors is a bit uncomfortable. The type of staging seen here was more suited to the West End than the silver screen. At the same time, Hitchcock also filmed the movie in German with other actors.
If these two features offer anything, it is a look at life in London in the 1930s. You can see how a poorer class of people lived and at the very least you know the props and sets come right out of that time period. Unless you are such a Hitchcock fan that you need to track down these re-mastered works, you could take a pass on them. For some reason, they are available on DVD.
I started to write today’s Daily Prompt, but it was the third time around for “create an eighth deadly sin.” I began writing, but lost interest after a paragraph. If it was boring me, it would have put you into a coma.
I was going to write a brand new post. I had a terrific idea when I went to bed last night, but I had entirely forgotten it by the time I woke up today. Gone. All I remember is that there was something I wish I could remember.
I’m listening to a science fiction novel that’s been very highly praised by many reviewers. It’s duller than dirt. Worse, I’m not sure what it’s about. I can’t discern a plot or a character. No motivation, no action. Dull conversations about nothing in particular, but taking place in a spaceship. I hate it.
What’s happened to science fiction? What’s happened to literature? What’s with these murky books that meander, without any apparent plot, through time, space, and dimensions? Where are authors with stories to tell? With interesting and memorable characters? Have I outlived the literature I love?
I was going to go take pictures, but I can’t think of anything to shoot that I haven’t shot a dozen times before. It’s probably the mid-winter blahs, El Niño edition. It’s warm. No snow except for little piles of brown, melting stuff from the tiny storm last week.
It looks like winter despite the springlike temperatures. The sky is pale grayish blue, the sun a cold, diffused light which highlights the drab landscape.
I remind myself it’s not snowing. Which is reason enough for gratitude, even celebration. I’m think I’m going through Arizona withdrawal.
It’s Saturday. There’s nothing on my calendar until next Wednesday … and that’s just taking Bonnie for grooming.
New England has thus far been spared the heaviest of the snow, the worst of the blizzards. It could change, of course. February has not yet begun and that is typically our heaviest snow month. Still, it’s nice to still have safe sidewalks and no icicles dangling from the roof. It’s not just the lack of snow … it’s the unusually warm temperatures.
The downside? The world is rather gray and drab. A world awaiting new seasons … or … the rest of winter.
What one thing are you really glad you did yesterday?
Finally got my appointment for the CAT scan and blood work so I can have my cancer check up. And live in terror until I get the all clear. Or not.
My mother stopped having checkups after a while. She couldn’t stand watching the doctor’s eyes, wondering if he was hiding the truth.
Cancer can always show up somewhere else, somewhere new. It can be a variation on the cancer you had, or an entirely new cancer … like the one that killed your brother. Or your aunt. At least this year it isn’t on my birthday (like last year).
When people ask “How are you?” the best I can say is “To the best of my knowledge, fine.” Come to think of it, that’s all anyone can say.
Are you generally focused on today or tomorrow?
Today with a dollop of tomorrow. I am the keeper of the schedule, the payer of the bills. I’m the fixer. The planner. The agent.
Somewhere in the back of my mind is always a worry, a niggling (or not so niggling) fear that I’ve forgotten something important. These days, I’m usually right.
Would you want to have as a guardian angel/mentor? What would they tell you right now?
How about a wife? I need someone just like me to take care of me. I would tell me to relax, it’s all being taken care of.
Would you rather live in a cave house or a dome house made of glass?
Neither, sorry. I don’t want glass house or a cave house or one of those weird underground almost-a-hobbit-burrow houses.
I want a nice, clean ranch with no stairs. Good light. A new heating and cooling plant. An easy-care garden — and a gardener.
Last, but not least, excellent and very fast WiFi.
Just in time for Easter weekend…. a little blasphemy from The Nest! Here is the gang’s take on The Last Supper. This is far and away the largest solo piece of artwork I’ve ever done… and those of you who love looking for the little details in my comics will have a blast combing this picture! Be sure to click on the image to see it at full resolution… it is much, much larger than it appears on my blog!
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