Rostropovich plays Bach´s Bourree - Suite No 3

Bach and Slava...what more needs be said...

All the King's Men

There have been 3 films of the Robert Penn Warren novel, "All the King's Men."

The story is about the rise and fall of the fictional and fascinating Willie Stark, a character based on the real life Huey Long, Governor of Louisiana.

There was a 1958 version of the story made for television. Most of us missed that.

There was last year's version, starring one of the greatest actors of our time, Sean Penn and a huge all-star cast. Now, I think I will rent that one and take a look.

And, most famously, there was the Robert Rossen version, filmed in 1949. I saw that movie, but, as I was 6 or 7 at the time and most likely half asleep in my chair, I have never remembered much about it.

Mr. Rossen made "The Hustler," a few years later, easily one of the greatest movies of all time with startling performances by Paul Newman, Piper Laurie, George C. Scott and Jackie Gleason. This is an iconic movie, with lines so famous they are quoted by any film buff who has had 2 beers in a row.

In the Rossen version of "All the King's Men," we also have an all-star cast: Broderick Crawford, who won the Oscar that year for Best Actor, John Ireland (nominated for Best Supporting Actor) and his actual wife, Joanne Dru, Mercedes McCambridge, whose major fame was the voice behind the spinning, puking head of Linda Blair in "The Exorcist," but who was magnificent as Luz Benedict in "Giant," and a very young and outrageously handsome, John Derek.

Mr. Ireland, who was born right here in Vancouver, had a career that included 197 credits!

The movie won the Oscar for best Picture, and I am writing about it, because I watched it Friday afternoon and found it fascinating for many reasons.

In some ways, the picture is superficial and obvious. And yet...and yet, the subtleties and shadings of character are quite wonderful to watch. There are no good guys, no bad guys. Everyone is in some way, large or small, compromised and corrupted, and at the same time admirable.

And because it was made in 1949, there are very different approaches to common problems in story telling.

For example, there is a dreadful set piece that lasts less than a minute showing small children leaving a school on a routine fire drill. Some of the children must leave by an outside metal staircase.

The camera shows us the children dashing down the stairs in an orderly and playful fashion. They've done this drill before, they are confident in what they are doing, and it's a clear relief from the monotony of the classroom.

Suddenly, we see a close-up of the structural support that is holding the staircase to the old, brick wall of the school.

The camera cuts back and forth between the children and support. The support breaks a little more loose each time we see it. After 3 of these builds, the support rips away from the wall. We hear some screams and that is the end of the scene.

Today, we would have to see broken limbs, blood spurting, the whole Scorsese/Tarantino craziness.

Yet, told in this old-fashioned, "indirect" way the scene is completely horrifying, completely effective. I hollered our loud, alone in my living room, "Oh No!"

Broderick Crawford had only one other role of equal stature and that was the comedy gangster in "Born Yesterday," with Judy Holliday and William Holden.

He became best known for a schlocky TV series called "Highway Patrol."

But as Willie Stark, he gave us a fully rounded, completely human portrait of a deeply flawed and wildly charismatic personality.

A Beautiful Contribution From Victor

I watched the Japanese-Einstein-Robot thingy and had an epiphany. No, really.

The Japanese are obsessed with robots because they are not making little Japanese. Their birthrate is far below replacement math. So we have this wonderful culture dying because they don't want to have kids. How ironic that they made an Einstein robot, a man who escaped, ....well you know.

This weary world has lost touch with fundamentals. Asians are aborting girl fetuses. Westerners are not reproducing. Africans are being devastated by AIDS.

As an aging man, who has been diagnosed with "an unpleasantness" ( forgive me, but as a boulevardier I do not discuss loathsome details) here is my advice to a world wrestling with the population question.

1. Find somebody to love.

2. No matter your sexual orientation, (S.O),there is somebody there for you.

3. If it works for your relationship, add a child to your love. Through birth or adoption. S.O. is irrelevant.

4. Most important. Be true. Subordinate the self to the family.

5. If you and yours fail in all this, you are still a family.

Even if there are just two of you who tried to have kids and failed.

Two old lovers in the same bed, warming each others' toes, please God as much as those who have been blessed with great grandchildren sitting on their knees.

HE doesn't judge us by our fertility. HE judges us by our morality.

Creepy Einstein Robot

One Japanese scientist has made a robot who looks exactly like him. He discovered much too late that now nobody knows who to put in the box at night.

That's What We Need - Another Department

Former attorney genera; Geoff Plant has released a massive new document called "Campus 2020 - Thinking Ahead." It is a detailed study, with recommendations, of colleges, university colleges and universities in B.C.

I received the document several days ago and I haven't had the time to read through it all as yet. So, this is not to denigrate or condemn the effort.

Nevertheless, two recommendations are ill-advised.

The first suggests that colleges should stop granting full degrees.

That would be fine if it weren't for the fact that several colleges, including LANGARA, all already granting degrees and spending small fortunes building programs of study and teaching staff to do exactly that. And they are doing first rate jobs in those programs. And they are successfully placing qualified and job-ready employees in the workplace.

To dismantle all of that would be retrogressive to say the least.

The second recommendation from Mr. Plant is that the Province create 5 "regional learning councils.

Good grief, doesn't anybody ever learn?

This is exactly the same mistake we have already made with Health Care and Public Schools.

In both instances, we have created terribly expensive, new, and unnecessary levels of bureaucracy that clearly hinder the smooth and timely delivery of service.

Hospitals and schools are not longer responsible for their own performance levels. CEO's of regional boards are paid in excess of $300,000 and leave on a regular basis with glamorous pensions and severance packages.

To add another costly, obstructionist set of regional authorities for post-secondary education is to yield to ineptitude and monies spent that should go to students and teachers.

If these are examples of what Mr. Plant has come up with, I'm afraid to finish reading his report.

Couldn't Have Said it Better Meeself

Guest blogger boulavardier, Victor, comments:

Today, the media reported two stories that are riotously funny in their juxtaposition. The bingo caller at our biggest radio station ( The Top Dog, actually the First Flea) read the stories in sequence without grasping the irony.

Story #1. Vancouver opened its first hi-tek public washroom where the poor folks on the Downtown East Side could pee in comfort.

Story#2. The poor folks from the DTES peed in bottles last night which they intended to throw at the police working the NPA nomination meeting.

So why are we peeing away money?

Michael Bublé - Call Me Irresponsible

Here's a pretty slick and flashy promo for our Burnaby Boy's new album, which will be released next Tuesday. He's an amazing talent and his story is somewhat astonishing.

In the caffe

"I'll always figure out a way to make it happen."

This might be his epitaph.

For at least fifteen minutes he had been sitting alone. He had an old yellow Sony portable music machine with him, but he hadn't been listening. He was staring out the window. He seemed to be looking at or seeing nothing, except perhaps what was in his head.

Big, square-faced, handsome in a dull, blank kind of way. He was "reasonably" dressed until you looked a little closer and noticed that his pants were dirty and that he was wearing grey work socks with his black brogues. Later, when his "guest" had finally arrived and they were deep in negotiations, he scratched nervously at his ankle under the rolled down sock.

The guest was Ichabod Crane. A reed, a wisp with a beard. And he came equipped - pen, notebook, questions.

Turned out this was an interview of sorts. The man was a framer and he needed work. Maybe they found each other on Craig's List.

The man listed all his skills. And he did this with a vigor and aggression that you couldn't have seen coming when you observed him in his silence.

Availability?

"If you look out the door and it's raining, chances are I'll be sitting at home watching a movie."

This wasn't reassuring news. Outside, a man had spent much time in perfectionist, obsessive deliberation parking his red and black Bugatti motorcycle. He was wearing matching red and black bike clothes, sleek and shiny and rubbery. When he took off his helmet, he was half-bald. What hair remained was pure white. He was easily in his sixties. Slim, pug-nosed, intense.

Do you remember Michael Mann's 1986 movie, "Manhunter?" It was the first attempt to film Hannibal Lecter. Never as good as Jonathan Demme's great success with "Silence of the Lambs," but still a chilling, scary movie. (It was later reworked as "Red Dragon," with Hopkins and Ed Norton.) Well, an actor named Tom Noonan played the psycho-killer, Frances Dollarhyde, in "Manhunter," and this is exactly what our motorcyclist looked like.

"But I'd love to work for you - inside or outside, it doesn't matter."

Ichabod smiled and wrote in his book.

"I may not be the best framer in the world, but I'll be there at 7 in the morning, and I'll be the last guy to leave."

He was smiling and loud and gregarious and happy. You could almost smell the disaster of his personal life, his eating habits, his furniture.

I Can Work! I can Work!

A rare congratulations to the Campbell Government.

As of next January, mandatory retirement at the age of 65 will go the way of the dodo bird.

Which is a darn good thing for people like me with no money. I will be 65 in December and I would keep right on working whether the government approved or not. I have to.

But it's nice to know that someone has finally said that this age discrimination had to go.

Many thanks, and pass the geritol.

The Best

Jon Stewart's "The Daily Show," seen here in Canada on The Comedy Network
(Mon-Thu, 11pm Westcoast time or whatever we're calling that this week) is the
only broadcast of which I am aware that dares to poke such huge, gaping and
hysterically funny satirical holes in the official fabrics. Whether it is Bush or
McCain or religionists or Democrats or show biz folk or himself, Stewart and his
writers just let it all hang out there. Stewart is a handsome, quirky performer
with unique style that either works for you or it doesn't.

This is a dangerous and subversive and courageous and democratic piece of
work. Mr Stewart is now rich and famous, and he deserves it all.

Nothing lasts forever and I have no idea how Mr. Stewart may re-invent
himself after this run, but it will be fun to watch and find out.

The Trail Gets Hot

Here is the first paragraph of an editorial in this morning's N.Y. Yimes:

"Congressman Rick Renzi, an Arizona Republican, was locked in a close re-election battle last fall when the local United States attorney, Paul Charlton, was investigating him for corruption. The investigation appears to have been slowed before Election Day, Mr. Renzi retained his seat, and Mr. Charlton ended up out of a job — one of eight prosecutors purged by the White House and the Justice Department."

Read the rest here.

It is about corruption at the highest level of the American government.

Great tap dancing by Eleanor, Fred and George

Please note that this is a one-shot, one-take wonder. Astaire was my all-time greatest show biz hero. He had studied every known form of dance, he was tireless in his preparation, and then he went out made it look like was just making it up as he went along.

We are Not Alone

It was only yesterday that I dared ask why the Premier is so comfortable chatting about political operatives working for him calling talk shows and pretending to be who they are not.

It was encouraging to see Vaughn Palmer asking the very same question in this morning's Sun, not to mention the entire NDP caucus asking the same question in the house yesterday.

The Premier's response is transparently below the required.

Starlight, Starbright...

How exciting to learn that we have a distant sister planet. Just turn left of this solar system, follow the known galaxy River Road, go past Ed's Eats, and there you be.

Even more rewarding to run into Mayor Sullivan's advance man on the new star, Ken Dobell, who has been awarded an additional $500,000,000 contract to develop poor people's housing in the red dust.

Now, when we look up at the heavenly skies at night, just before our last scotch and toke before beddie-byes, we can be comforted in the assurance that we are truly being taken care of by those who truly know how to take care.

So...take care.

Corinne Bailey Rae -- Like a Star

She was on Letterman last night and I just couldn't stay up that late...but, now we can see what all the rave is about.

The Money Went Where?

An important point was made by commentator, "Martino," the other day when I was blogging about City Hall.

He said it is time for regular and public audits. I would say they should be called "Performance Audits," and they should reveal in somewhat the same fashion what the Auditor-General reveals for us in her federal audits, what City Hall is actually doing with all this money they collect in local taxes.

We really have no idea at this point how our local tax dollars are spent, and what is more, most of us don't seem to care.

If we cared, and if we were informed, half the departments would vanish.

Rosemary Clooney -- But Not For Me

They're writing songs of love...she was magic, unmatched...

Who's On First?

For the first time in Canadian history, a man has been released on bail after admitting that he shot and killed a police officer.

The man is accused of murder. He claims he didn't know the guy he shot 3 times with a .357 Magnum was a police officer. So now a Quebec judge has released him on bail.

But...let's see.

He admits that he shot SOMEONE 3 times with a .357 Magnum. The small detail that this was a police officer that he shot and that all of this happened during a crazy shoot-out in a major drug and stolen cell phone raid doesn't seem to have impressed our learned fellow on the bench.

Shoot a cop 3 times, claim ooops, sorry, I didn't know he was constabulary, and you walk out on bail.

A milestone. A millstone. A new low for Canadian jurisprudence.

What are we going to do about making judges accountable?

Rapunzel, Do You Have Hair?

A pair of academics will analyze crime patterns in the hope of predicting your next bank heist.

Another professor, far, far away in another land, has figured out that French Impressionist Claude Monet had cataracts.

I guess this is why those places are called Ivory Towers.

That still doesn't explain why these daydreams are published as news. Perhaps for me and you and Dave letterman's writers.

LIne 4, Go Ahead. You're on the Air

There is something creepy about the Premier of the province praising "one of Dave's callers" after an appearance on a Victoria radio talk show.

Many of you will say, "Well, that's just business as usual. That's politics. That's how is works." And you're probably right.

But that still doesn't wash away the bad taste of knowing that the Premier thinks it's normal or just swell or ticketyboo to have a political operative play havoc with what others are mistakenly believing is a free and open discussion.

Clearly politicians think that such forums are simply toys and illusions, playthings awaiting their amusement and manipulation.