We watched the film About Elly last night--it was good. I didn't know what to expect--a full-on thriller or a psychological drama. I knew it was going to be serious. It was serious--middle class Iranians cross traditional moral lines on a weekend vacation. There is then overwhelming tension caused by the threat of reprisal after a dramatic event. The Big Chill it was not. It showed at The Tivoli here in KC for a week or so this year.
It was a film with a unique tone, an enclosed, single location--and that enclosure was the beach, so the wide open, ever-present sounds of the waves got more and more oppressive. That was a cool move. If they had been at a resort the feeling of being beyond the pale in a conservative society would not have been so lunar.
Part of the upstairs revamp was to make this movie-watching space. This is where I go to skip the Super Bowl and to stop the drooling if I am burned out and muttering gibberish.
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I found this doodle in a pile of papers, stuck between a tax return and a 401K quarterly report.
This Mariam The Believer record has been on heavy earbud rotation at the office and while I'm running, along with Herbie Hancock's Headhunters. I'll never crack jokes about 70's fusion jazz again, that shit is dope. So is this:
