Author Archive: Peter Jakobsen
We Gotta Go
Vale Andrew Lesnie, who died on April 27, a great cinematographer who enhanced the films he shot with dazzling light and shade – Babe, The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit and The Water Diviner among them. Vale Jack Ely, who died the following day, and mumbled his way, on April 6 1963, through the Kingsmen’s recording of Louie Louie, a lucky mix of prehistoric recording techniques, throwaway vocalising and Ely’s new braces, which gave a raw and dirty sound to an old standard. Two generations have extemporized their own smutty lyrics to this Dance Hall classic and TVC recommends the live…
Continue Reading →Lawrence of Arabia
"The trick is not MINDING that it hurts."
(Dir. David Lean) (1962) Despite Lesley having almost invariably impeccable taste, we strongly disagree with her charge that this is the Worst Movie of all Time. Dare we suggest L was prejudiced by the abundance of sand, the monolithic presence of her beloved Peter O’Toole, and the undeniable fact this is a ‘blokes’ picture’? Long (few films these days have an overture, an intermission, an entr’acte) but not overlong (compare and contrast The Hobbit), this is film history on an heroic scale, focusing on T(homas). E(dward). Lawrence’s fostering of the revolt in the desert by numerous squabbling Bedouin tribes, against the…
Continue Reading →Deconstruction of Desire
How strange to find Ms Kahlo at M. Manet's café...
Rich, bored, and the afternoon is wet. Turning the pages of Vogue, sipping anisette In the big window of the coffee house, Staring at him from shiny pages is a black girl in a white blouse. Without, on bumpy pavements tripped upon by swanky heels No rainbow settles with the rain splashed by Mercedes wheels And mediocre men and women scour shop-fronts in their quest To find something or, perhaps, someone who’ll pass their personal test. This street is where the rich pass time, Where recession does not stroll And at the sidewalk’s end there is no crime, No quiet…
Continue Reading →Lust
photo by Soffie Hicks)
A boy stands waiting on the line, Boredom stoutly kept at bay, Her sideways glance could speak a tome If noticed, but he missed and has to see the play. All he has left is the sleep of the just And protocol is honored in the breach, A life fully fit for drowning In silver surf way out beyond the beach. D’ya ever see the film called If? Who knows what the hell it was about But there’s a scene in it where The lads sit around, Turn a girlie magazine inside out; One boy — played by Malcolm McDowell,…
Continue Reading →The Terrorist Impulse
(Governo da Grecia, 1920)
Can I be labeled pious, Or a martyr, or a missionary, Naive or just a fool, If I cavil at the doings of a group of fat brigands? Hoeing into goat at table, Wiping mouths that dribble claret, Hawking, grasping, clamoring, Not washing their hands? Does the innocent observer Fall into the snare, enjoying feelings of contempt and loathing, Wallowing in smugness, Desperate to impose his disapproval and disgust? Yes, enraged by the indifference Of the gobbling hedonistic toughs Who fail to heed the warning smoulder, he must. One must.
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