last days pt. 1

I have not forgotten to express my undying jubilation about the recent Criterion Collection DVD release of Whit Stillman's genius take on youth and nightlife in "The Last Days of Disco." Although it happened over a month ago, my brain is still trying to compute that I met him and his muse, Chris Eigeman at the Lincoln Film Center screening timed with the release of the DVD. Once I'm able to fully put together my thoughts I'll of course share it with The Look-See. Until then, I've compiled my list of five songs that could have been on the already brilliant soundtrack. I can only imagine Charlotte and Alice awkwardly swaying off beat to these personal favorites:

"Dance Dance Dance (Yowsah, Yowsah, Yowsah)
Chic


"Disco Nights"
GQ


"You Can't Turn Me Away"
Sylvia Striplin


"Wordy Rappinghood"
Tom Tom Club


"We Got the Funk"
Positive Force

dreams do come true

Funny how a movie I saw ten years ago is still as good, if not better upon a recent second viewing. Thanks to a certain benevolent VHS player owner and some friends that really know how to indulge me on my birthday, I watched "The Last Days of Disco" this weekend. A new birthday tradition, perhaps?

homecoming

My new home...

start spreading the news

It's funny to think that last Monday I was running around Manhattan for a day. I don't want to give away too much because I'd hate jinx myself, but I guess I'll state the obvious and say that I am more than excited about moving. Louisville has been kind, but a change of scenery is definitely in order. I saw my apartment for the first time and in turn met my awesome new roommates. I'll be living in the Clinton Hill neighborhood in Brooklyn and thanks to a guided tour from a dear friend, I'm already looking forward to movies at BAM and dinners at Chez Oskar.

Oh yeah, and naturally I did a little bit of shopping. Am I the only one that thinks Uniqlo is a little overwhelming? The stacks upon stacks of basics startled me and didn't lead me into one particular direction. I did like the cashmere sweaters, but with the late summer heat settling in, the thought of cashmere anything makes me break out in a sweat. And when will the price point break at A.P.C.? Not all of us mortals can afford such classic pieces at insane prices. I still have my eye on eventually owning a pair of their jeans, but $160 for a plaid shirt is a bit much to ask. My favorite new find was Odin, a contemporary menswear store in Soho that carries brands like Band of Outsiders, Comme Des Garcons, Rag & Bone, Trovata, Nice Collective, and Engineered Garments. What did I get you ask?

Rag & Bone
Classic Short, on sale for $59
Rag & Bone
Cardigan Vest, on sale for $59

I have come to terms with the idea that I might go in slight debt when I move because when you buy such well made pieces at such great prices, there is no turning back. None. The countdown begins...

"ballon! ballon!"

You know what is finally released on DVD today...

flashing lights: pt. 3

Nothing is guaranteed at Sundance. You may desperately want to spot a Colin Farrell or a Paris Hilton, but instead you get Bijou Phillips and her friends clad in miles of hair extensions and faux fur. You want to see the next "Donnie Darko", "Reservoir Dogs", or "Clerks, which all debuted at the festival, and instead you get the clunker with so and so and that one guy you saw in that movie last year. What I saw wasn't especially great, nor was it especially memorable or exciting. I should have done my homework before the festival because these are the five films I wish I would have seen:

CHOKE, directed by Clark Gregg
Actor and first time director Clark Gregg adapts Chuck Palahniuk's darkly humorous portrait of a sex addict and his equally flawed and compulsive friends, co-workers, and family. The last Palahniuk adaptation wasn't well received by critics, but every teenage male in the late '90s identified with the pre-millennial alienation of its anti-heroes. Will this film receive this kind of warm reception when it's released?

SMART PEOPLE, directed by Noam Murro
There was a lot of dark material at Sundance and this could have been the welcomed respite to all of that gloom and doom. This well reviewed film from first time filmmaker Noam Murro looks like the title, a funny movie with smart people behind it.

MOMMA'S MAN, directed by Azazel Jacobs
Manohla Dargis of The New York Times hailed, "the film beautifully combines the idioms of independent fiction narrative with the personal expressiveness of the avant-garde for a work of surprising emotional and structural complexity. This is independent cinema defined." Big praise for a movie about a man who abandons his family to move back in with his parents. Perhaps this is the movie that could restored my faith in independent cinema.

SUGAR, directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck
The directing duo Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck's astonishing debut, "Half Nelson", made Ryan Gosling a star and established them as filmmakers with an eye for emotional realism and a love for characters that pierce through the screen. The follow up is the tale of a Dominican baseball player recruited for an American league. Described as a searing and subtle work of masterful achievement this could be one of the films to watch this year.

BALLAST, directed by Lance Hammer
That obnoxious guy on the shuttle hated this movie but critics loved it and compared to a sobering drama as lensed by Terrence Malick. A film that takes its own time to tell the story of a suicide and those affected by it in the delta of Mississippi. IFC picked up the distribution rights and it premiered at the Berlin Film Festival last week. Why didn't I see this movie?

flashing lights: pt. 2

When we last left off at the epic madness that was Sundance, our heroes were sitting front row at the premiere of Tom Kalin's "Savage Grace." We pick up from there...

SUNDAY JANUARY 20
10:50PM The lights come up in the cramped theater and it's clear the audience is not sure how to digest this silly, poorly constructed film. The tone was caught somewhere in between uncertain incompetence and a campy Joan Crawford movie. Julianne Moore is sensational in most things, but even she can't save the sinking ship of a movie in which she has to utter lines such as, "He likes to fuck you in the ass!", after she catches her husband running away with his mistress or "You're the best.", after she and her sexually confused son make whoopee at their tony London home. I wasn't bothered by the sex or the nature of their relationship (see "Ma Mere" and see it done better), but it felt too hollow and not sure of how to expertly handle the balance between human pyschodrama and '40s weepie. Sadly Julianne Moore was not there for the Q&A, which would have made up for this mess of a movie. The young actor, Eddie Redmayne, who plays her son looks like a freckle covered Abercrombie & Fitch model (he is in the new Burberry campaign) answered questions plainly and at times with a stammer as if he was trying to convince us it was a good movie. Convince he did not.

11:45PM Scour downtown Salt Lake for a convenient store so Stephanie can get something to feel better. As if we didn't already feel like we were on another planet, we drove for what felt like an eternity in the ghost town of downtown Salt Lake until we finally happened upon a gas station. She got a Sprite and Fiddle Faddle and I got Pringles. We were on vacations, so it makes complete sense.

12:36AM Stephanie and I pass out while watching "Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency." Don't hate. It's kind of fun to watch pretty people get yelled at by the plastic surgery monster that is "America's first supermodel." Hopefully this will cure Stephanie's illness.

MONDAY JANUARY 21
9:31AM Open my eyes to the blinding reflection of the snow outside. I wipe the sleep out of my eyes and open the window to a foot of snow that fell while we were asleep. OMG!!!!

10:28AM The rental car is swamped in a big snow bank that we physically dig out with her feet and a small ice scraper. What a cold mess.

11:16AM After a delicious quick lunch at a local cafe we head to Park City and realize Salt Lake City does not shut down after such a massive snow fall, unlike Louisville that when it sees two inches of snow you would think we're on Orange alert.

1:07PM New strategy for the day: Pick a movie we want to see but stand in line for the film or two before it so our chances are greater to get in. Our college degrees are being put to some use.

2:18PM We get our wait list numbers for Mark Pellington's "Henry Poole is Here" and decide to go to the Main St. area to gawk at celebrities.

2:20PM The great thing about Sundance is the immediate reaction the audience has to a film, good or bad. While innocently sitting on the shuttle bus carting us to Main St., some guy in a skull cap and leather bomber jacket jumps on board and shouts to everyone on the bus, "DID ANYONE JUST SEE 'BALLAST'?". The bus is silent and puzzled. "OH MY GOD THAT MOVIE WAS HORRIBLE! IT WAS SO SLOW!!!!" He continues, "I MISSED MY FLIGHT FOR THAT MOVIE! I CAN'T BELIEVE SOMEONE CONVINCED ME TO STAY!!!" Someone finally obliges him and inquires why he chose to see it. He reiterates a friend told him to see and then proceeded to explain the entire movie to the passengers on the bus with total disgust. We got off at Main St. and that guy pays dearly for missing his flight.

2:37PM My lips were expressly dry for the entire trip. I noticed a skin care place that also carried Khiel's, which I need to reup on the face wash as I ran out that morning. While paying for my overpriced, but never underused, face wash and lip balm, an intense conversation about skin care begins between the sales girl, Stephanie, and myself. They talk a lot about methods of exfoliatation, but I'm too enamored with my new lip balm to offer input. I comment on the the Evan Spray Mist and how my lovely friend Bitch, Please swears by it to which she replies with a very funny story about how her and a male friend were driving up and down Main St. in an ice cream truck over the the summer during a music festival spraying anybody and everybody. You meet the darndest people in this city.

2:40PM Our immersion in skin care has caused us to lose track of time and we must be back to the theater at 2:45 to get a ticket. That of course is not going to happen but I assure Stephanie that there were plenty of tardy people at other screenings, I see no reason why we would be turned away. As I'm commenting on how little I paid for the face was as opposed to what I pay for it in Louisville I see a throng of people spilling out of some sponsored lounge. I can't quite tell what is going on. In one swift move a tall paparazzi shoves me to the side where I fall into the side of a pick up truck, to notice about thirty or so paparazzi trailing Matthew Perry. Yes, I said Chanandler Bong. He had film at the festival and looks relatively healthy, albeit totally annoyed at the attention.

2:59PM The line is long and not looking like we have a chance to get in. We were also put at the end of the line for the late people. Dammit.

3:11PM The waiting line is never without its own drama. A rather disgruntled man in front of us is going off about how ridiculous it is to get a wait list number and if you are not back a half an hour before the movie starts, like the rules state, than you have to get in a separate line behind the wait list line. I agree but at Sundance you have to play by the rules, and this man was not having any of it. He switched lines and was asked to get back in his other line. When the announcement is made that they would not be admitting any more people the man throws his number on the ground and storms out of the tent. Bad for him, good for us. When they don't allow anyone else in, the next line starts for the next movie. We got in a new line where our numbers were in the teens, which all but guaranteed us entrance to the next movie.

5:45PM After a quick lunch and another attempt at stargazing, we head back to the Eccles Theater just in time to get in line for the premiere of Terry Kinney's "Diminished Capacity." The Sundance line wrangles begin calling people in and you better believe we got in with plenty of time to scope out the best seats and brace ourselves for the true Sundance experience.

6:12PM The anticipation was building in the massive theater (pictured above). I chose to sit in the middle and toward the back (my general preference in theaters) where we plopped down with relief and excitement. Around this time camera flashes are going off a mile a minute and about fifteen rows ahead of us the film's star Matthew Broderick and his wife, Sarah Jessica Parker, duck into the theater and take their seats. Alan Alda and Virgina Madsen follow, also stars of the film. They are as short as you would expect them to be and for a festival more about the art than the glitz, they looked appropriate but casually put together. The lights go down and the movie begins.

7:55PM I suppose with any movie it's always a crapshoot as to whether it's going to be good or not and at film festival it's especially difficult to pick the movies that will last in the end, and this was a case of a movie not being bad, nor was it very good. "Diminished Capacity" follows these very vanilla movies about dysfunctional, but charmingly eccentric families that are thrown on an uncomfortable but triumphant road trip and along the way we laugh at their predicaments and hope that all will end well. It does here (which is not ruining anything), but what disappoints the most is how these actors who are usually so watchable either chew every scene they have like a cow munching on grass or sleepwalk to collect their indie cred and paychecks. I think last year was a very strong year in American cinema, but it was the studio releases or the films with sizable budgets that stood out. Where are the American filmmakers who really have something to say? An true independence voice (take that for whatever you want it to mean) is in serious need of resuscitation if this festival ever wants to call itself the preeminent independent film festival in the country. The cast was warm and funny at the Q&A, but just like that they were gone and in a way the Sundance experience was ending as well. We attended the after party for the documentary on water scarcity and privatization that our boss Gill produced. The beer was free and the people were nice but what an exhausting day it had been. Skin care, paparazzi, short famous people--it was quite the dizzying cocktail.

TUESDAY JANUARY 22
10:37AM Woke up just in time for the Oscar nominations. Jason Reitman getting best director, really? "Diving Bell" not getting best picture, really? A technicality preventing Johnny Greenwood from getting a nomination, really? Kathy Bates having nothing better to do on a Tuesday morning, really? Okay, I can believe that one, but more importantly it's a clear showdown between the bad boys and the badder boys. Will it be "There Will Be Blood" or "No Country for Old Men"? I get excited just thinking about it.

12:15PM Our flight is at 2, so after lunch a quick trip to Urban Outfitters was needed followed by the discovery of Forever 21 Man. I've only read about this, never seen in it person. It's as crowded and overwhelming as the women's store, and just as cheap in price and quality, but I see striped sweaters and military inspired jackets and I cannot resist. I make it out alive with a very French-looking striped sweater fit for Albert Finney at the beach in Stanley Donen's "Two for the Road" (that movie keeps coming up again and again for all things style related).

1:04PM I hate waiting for a flight. You're in a small seating area trying not make eye contact with anyone as everyone reads their gossip magazines and munches on the candy they purchased at the nearby magazine shop. Things took a turn for the worst at this point. Stephanie was not feeling well and I received about ten text messages informing me that Heath Ledger had died. I wasn't sure how to handle either situation, so I hoped that my traveling partner would get well soon and the news was untrue. A quick phone call before the flight departed and it was true, Heath Ledger was found dead in his New York apartment by his masseuse. He seemed to be really coming into his stride with films such as "Brokeback Mountain", "I'm Not There", and his last role as The Joker in the upcoming Batman movie. What a terrible loss and Stephanie wasn't doing much better.

6:19PM The plane ride was not an easy one. Stephanie felt terrible the entire time and the turbulence in the last hour stirred up my stomach and made me feel nauseous. We arrive in Nashville where similar to Louisville, the air is dense and dirty but refreshing and not 7,000 feet above sea level. I'm glad to be back home.

The rest of the story is full of bowel movements, vomiting, serious re-hydration, and me taking a Greyhound to get home, but that's of no importance when I think back about my Sundance experience. It was cold, exhausting, and not at all what I expected, which is the charm and allure of Sundance. A weekend of complete privilege and luck, I can't think of any other moment in my life in which my love for film, celebrity obsession, and all things that are wrong and right with those worlds, have collided and given me such an intense feeling of elation and enrichment.

flashing lights

The cold, thin air of the Utah mountains is a thing of the past now. The 2008 Sundance Film Festival was a dizzy whirl of wealthy ski bunnies, celebutantes, swag for the privileged, and oh yeah, movies. I think I'm not alone in my feeling that American independent cinema is in a bit of a strange period. Big name actors work for scale, play an addict or someone middle class and it's all very moving and easily packaged and next thing you know they're thanking God or their agents at the Oscars while wearing a get up that cost more than the budget of their film. It's also birthed two niches comedies in recent years--the eccentric geek fish out of water movie and the lovably dysfunctional family episode. These kinds of films are cute, easy to watch, but leave me wanting and expecting more from the hearts and minds of contemporary American filmmakers. Unfortunately the two films I saw were predictable yawns about dysfunctional families (although in completely opposed ways), but the kick about Sundance is everyone is a critic and is willing to share in a collective discussion about what was the best and worst Sundance had to offer. My film geekdom is usually so esoteric that film speak happens too infrequently, but at Sundance there is comfort in all of the film chatter. Put on your warmest parka because this my diary of my weekend at Robert Redford's playground. You think you know but you have no idea...

FRIDAY JANUARY 18
6:08PM Louisville is on the horizon as Nashville becomes the early destination for me and my trusty traveling partner Stephanie B.. We were both on a budget and found that it was cheaper to fly out of Nashville than Louisville. Oh, Louisville International Airport, how you always disappoint.

8:32PM Join friends of Stephanie's boyfriend Steve (yes, I've done the "The Science of Sleep" Stephane/Stephanie joke more than once) for a birthday dinner at a hip boutique restraunt, Mirror. The food is gourmet comfort food with tapas restaurant. Interesting mix, I know. The results were mixed. My Crispy Prosciutto wrapped Cipollini Onions were solid in texture and surprising in taste. However, the stack of food they called my entree left me a little cold because my mashed potatoes were lukewarm at best. I think they called it a "Deconstructed Chicken Breast" that was pan fried with a crispy texture layered over said mashed potatoes and grilled vegetables. The enormous cracked mirror mural facing me was more interesting than my meal. Good, but not the best.

10:45PM Post-dinner cocktails at 3 Crow Bar. Note to self: Ease up on the spending, you're not even in Utah yet.

12:37AM Post-3 Crow Bar cocktails at an establishment down the block (the name eludes me, sorry Stephanie). Damn, I never learn.

SATURDAY JANUARY 19
10:04AM Depart Stephen's for the airport. Layer like there's no tomorrow in anticipation for the bristling weather we're about to face.

4:30PM Layover in Phoenix, Arizona. It must have been 70+ degrees in the airport, thus all of the layers must come off. A quick expensive beer in a sports bar and we're off to Utah. Note to self: Avoid $8 beers at Sundance and must come back to Phoenix. The view from the lounge is gorgeously flat.

6:11PM Arrive in Salt Lake City home of the 2002 Winter Olympics, Mormons, and...I never discover what this town is known for or what goes on culturally.

7:33PM Change into my favorite black turtleneck, my favorite gray Marc Jacobs pants, Old Navy herringbone blazer, and black lace up shoes for a celebratory dinner. Stephanie steps out of the bathroom at the hotel wearing a black turtleneck. Twinsies!

8:17PM Dine at the Biaggi's Ristorante Italiano. High ceilings, low lighting, attractive hostess, this very well could be a scene from "Batman" where the crazed villain interrupts a dinner between Bruce Wayne and some babe. We start with the Stuffed Mushrooms and then I order the Black Fettuccini tossed with lobster, wild mushrooms and a homemade lobster cream sauce and Stephanie goes with the Grilled chicken breast stuffed with imported Italian ham and smoked provolone and gouda cheeses, topped with a lemon-basil butter sauce and served with sauteed asparagus and roasted herb potatoes. Sexy, I know.

12:27AM Pass out with a bottle of Pinot Noir while watching The Best of Tracy Morgan on "Saturday Night Live." Could he be any more hilarious?

SUNDAY JANUARY 20
7:45AM Wake up and realize all I've done so far is eat expensive meals and gab. Must get to Park City after the inclusive (although Stephanie told score us that one) continental breakfast.

11:15AM Attend the Annual Outfest Queer Bunch Party. Yet another opportunity to eat free food and grab some swag. Paris Hilton, Kirsten Dunst, Diddy, Ellen Page, Sharon Stone, and Quentin Tarantino are all rumored to be at this event. Of course none of them were there and sadly our first celebrity sighting was Lance Bass' ex-boyfriend and former "Amazing Race" contestant Reichen Lehmkuhl. The gift bag was also slightly disappointing: pleasure ring, latest issue of Instinct magazine, and a Melissa Etheridge CD. Yeah, that totally puts chicks in the mood.

12:48PM Walking about Main Street, the main drag at Sundance and home to the Egyptian Theater (pictured above) were Colin Farell's film "In Bruges" premiered days before we got there as well as Mary-Kate Olsen's film "The Wackness." Spot Paul Giamatti (who does not like to have his picture taken), Mena Suvari (too much makeup), Jon Foster (the kid Kim Basigner sleeps with to spite her husband in the vastly underrated film "The Door in the Floor"), and Christine Vachon (the bitchin' producer of Todd Haynes films among many other landmark independent films of the '90s). All of a sudden the crowds part for a photoshoot happening on the street. The stringy hair extensions and the prominent fang teeth look familiar...OMG! IT'S BIJOU PHILIPS! For reason or another she's posing against a Volkswagen SUV with a big hand bag, clad in the tightest black jeans and a big puffer jacket. Mouth is agape at this scene.

2:38PM Attempt to get into Michel Gondry's latest film "Be Kind and Rewind" at Eccles Theater. Naturally, it's a favorite with big names and we don't get in. The game that one must play at Sundance if you don't buy tickets in advance goes like this: Show up for a movie with $10, wait in a freezing cold line for a wait list number, obtain number, come back in line a half an hour before the movie starts, and based on how many tickets the film sold the event organizers and handlers will admit however many people in based on the amount of empty seats. Sounds clear and organized, right? A near riot it caused by some guy claiming to be the father of one of the actresses in the next film showing after "Be Kind", the Noam Murro dramedy "Smart People" told on a woman in front of him who let her four teenage daughters cut line after they left "Be Kind and Rewind" midway through. No cutting at Sundance! I'm convinced it's Ellen Page's dad (she's one of the stars of the film) and observe the hilarity of this enraged man as my toes begin to slowly freeze. The wait is over an hour where in I met Paul Dano's agent who just so happened to be standing in front of me in line. She also represents Zach Braff, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, some guy from "Grey's Anatomy" and the crazy mom from "Arrested Development." I beg her to tell me who was the actor Paul Dano replaced on the set of "There Will Be Blood" after weeks into shooting and has since remained a secret. She wouldn't budge but only gave me the tidbit that it was an unknown actor. Was she covering for Shia LaBeouf? It's a possibility.

4:48PM Informed by someone in line that the Amy Adams and Emily Blunt vehicle, "Sunshine Cleaning", is just okay. Ouch. Two likable new stars, how can that go wrong? Amy Redford's directorial debut (daughter of Robert), "The Guitar" starring Saffron Burrows, is also panned by someone in line and said, "it was...very weird" and "everybody was naked in it." Hmmm, sounds interesting to me.

6:17PM Tickets sell out for "Smart People" and there were almost thirty or so people in front of us. There's always Salt Lake.

8:25PM The premiere of Julianne Moore's latest film, "Savage Grace", is playing in Salt Lake at 9:15. Must make it.

8:45PM We get our waist list numbers and they're single digits this time. To celebrate we have a beer across the street at a local microbrewery.

8:52PM While standing in line in what was a surprisingly warm venue, I overhear that "Ballast" was "really dark and really slow, but you know, entertaining" and Alan Ball's "Towelhead" had people walking out of the theater. Where was I for these films?

8:55PM We're warned that this film has a red flag rating and no children are allowed admittance. The film deals with incest and other aberrant forms of sexuality. Everyone in line cheers and claps in unison at the excitement of seeing Julianne Moore make it with her son.

9:03PM The Sundance Fever gets to Stephanie. As I wait for her to return from the restroom, we're getting closer and closer to getting in.

9:04PM The moviegoer who saw "Ballast" is going on and about how she must to get into the theater because God forbid if she doesn't she'll have to go to P.F. Chang's down the street to nurse a glass or wine or two until her friends come out of the movie. She trades places with some guy in line and gets closer to me. Earlier I heard her talking about how she comes to Park City with her husband regularly because they're big skiers and they love getting out of the city for a vacation every once in a while. I'm going to bet she gets her way all the time.

9:07PM Five people in front of me and no Stephanie. AHHHHH!!!

9:12PM Stephanie re-emerges and it's clear she is not well. I offer to leave so we can get back to where we were staying for the night and she can rest. She's a trooper and agrees to see the film.

9:14:21PM We're told no more seats are available. NOOOOO!!!!

9:15PM Wait a minute, there are only three seats available and we were at the head of the line. We get in and scurry to the theater where we come in at the tail end of the director introducing the film and the lights go down. We're in the very front row. Fuck.

To Be Continued...

age of aquarius

While I was getting my oil changed this morning I flipped through the pages of the high society publication Town & Country. I don't think I've ever read it because it seems completely removed from everything I'm find interesting(it's too glossy in its depiction of the privileged and powerful). However, I did find myself fixated by the horoscope section devoted to predictions and possible outcomes for this year. Mine just so happened to be dead-on, almost freakishly so. Aquarians, pay attention, you might learn something:

"Relax, take a deep breath, and unclench your jaw. This year is going to be a breeze after the planetary pummeling you’ve just been through, and a bright new era of your life is dawning."

"You meet challenges head-on with cool logic and objectivity. You probably don’t even realize how stressed-out you’ve been. But there’s no question that the adverse influences of Saturn, Neptune and Mars during the past two years have been grueling. Indeed, the personal and professional uncertainties you’ve been fielding have not only put you through your paces, they probably would have sent less sturdy members of the zodiac round the bend."

"Professionally, 2008 will be a particularly upbeat and rewarding period, when you successfully establish yourself in new venues or brilliantly consolidate your present position. Your newly found confidence and poise will be apparent to all, and you’ll be the one everyone turns to for expert advice, or when the going gets tough. What’s more, with Jupiter on course for your birth sign in 2009, your achievements of this year are setting the stage for a particularly star-studded career cycle."

"Private retreats and getaways (you may find yourself particularly attracted to mountainous regions) will be superbly enjoyable and restorative, especially in early January, mid-July and late December. Any altruistic endeavors or worthy causes that piqued your interest and attention last year are likely to become a more central part of your life, and you may be playing an increasingly major role in your favorite charitable organization."

That last part is especially true because I can officially announce that through the benevolent powers that be at Gallery NuLu (you know who you are), I'm attending the Sundance Film Festival for a couple of days. Parties, ski bunnies, swag, film--what more could I ask for?

Click here for more.

new order

It wouldn't be the New Year without a few resolutions. I'm not worried about quitting a vice or changing my appearance, but instead this will be the year I owe it to myself to fulfill my young adult hopes and dreams. Well, maybe not all of them, but here are a few that can get me started:

Drink more water.
Become a better writer.
Watch Krzysztof Kieślowski's "Decalogue" series.
Get into grad school, find a new job, or move to a different city.
Learn how to change a tire.
Learn more about wine.
Watch HBO's "The Wire."
Make more money.
Save more money.
Ease up on the gossiping.
Develop a trademark dish.
Read more.
Travel more.
Love more.

my voyage to italy: pt. 7

There is nothing sexier than when a woman makes an exit and there's the surprise of a bare back. The only thing slightly closer is the way a woman's calf muscle looks while wearing heels or the way their backsides move in a snug and preferably short skirt. You almost wonder if clothing was made expressly for women. The soft curves and lines of their bodies give clothes a purpose and life that rarely exists for men. The way a top grazes their shoulder or a pair of jeans hangs just low enough cannot compare to the way men throw on a shirt or pants.

A staple in a woman's wardrobe, the little black dress is universal in its appeal and shape. I've seen the black dress worn the right way dozens of times before, but I will never forget the image of a woman wearing one while riding her bicycle in my neighborhood in Florence. Long-limbed and sun-kissed, she sat atop her vintage bike with an ease and comfort. She whizzed by me, obscuring her face only for me to discover the concern wasn't her face but what she said with the curve of her tanned spine and exposed shoulder blades. Her black dress draped to her knee like in a classic A-line shape, but it had a wide deep, plunging v-cut out in the back that revealed her confident and beautiful back. A loose bun at the base of her neck guided my eyes from top to the small of her back. Red slingbacks on her feet punctuated her simple but singular look. Quite simply it was stunning. There was something very Italian about that moment and that woman. I would never see something like that in America, nor would I want to because it would never come close to that fine Florentine riding her bike down a quiet street.

my voyage to italy: pt. 6

"Bicycle Thieves"
dir., Vittorio De Sica
1948
WARNING: CLIP IS A POTENTIAL SPOILER

I remember being absolutely devastated the first time I saw Vittorio De Sica's seminal "Bicycle Thieves." I watched it in a chilly screening room for a film class in college and it really provoked something in me. Never before had film come across as a medium that is not only made for the masses for entertainment but it can also be art that speaks about the human experience and serves as some sort of impetus for social and cultural reflection. "Bicycle Thieves" is everything I love about Italian cinema, especially in the post-World War II era of neo-realism. Not only is there a clear sense of time and place but we agonize as we watch a man struggle for his cultural identity in a land that is recovering from it being stripped away from them.

The set up is simple: a man searches for his stolen bike. However, his bike is a symbol of upward mobility and socio-economic security as it transports him to and from work. Antonio (Lamberto Maggiorani) is like many Italian men at the time, trying to re-integrate into the job market after the war. He soon learns though that being apart of the crowd can be too compromising and instill a false sense of hope, faith, and identity. Added to this is his young son, Bruno (Enzo Staiola), who travels with him on his day long odyssey. No other film so eloquently and affectingly reveals such genuine truths about father and son relationships. The father is the absolute model for his son and teaching him morals and values in the new Italy is as important to him as getting his bike back. Although his pride gets the best of him more often than not throughout the film, his son recognizes but never verbalizes that his father is not a super hero but a human being desperately and admirably trying to provide for his family.

Film is never this articulate or resonate. As I navigated my way through the contemporary Italy last summer that is so different from De Sica's world of economic rebirth and a people reclaiming their culture, I couldn't help think of Antonio and his stolen bike.

my voyage to italy: pt. 5

In my mind there is no one and nothing quite like Monica Vitti. She is more cerebral and elusive than Sophia Loren's overt come-hither sensuality. She is more adult and intelligent than Claudia Cardinale's bunny like sex bomb features. She isn't as outwardly expressive and coarse looking as Anna Magnani. She is in a class of her own. Her features and slow burning stares were an ideal source of inspiration for her maestro Micheangelo Antonioni's loose tetralogy of films ("L'Avventura", "La Notte", "L'Eclisse", and "Il Deserto Rosso") that explored modern isolation, bourgeois repression, and sex in the post-war Italy. In these films she is essence of the new Italian woman who defines on her own terms what she wants from the world, from her parnter, and most importantly, herself. Impossibly chic and watchable, Vitti saunters with an unusual stillness through Antonioni's films with very little dialogue to rely on, but instead what is resonate is the way she looks out of a window, allows a fan to catch a breeze through her hair, or walk down an urban jungle polluted with cars, office buildings, and technology. Her versatility is unparalleled and brings a unique gift to films such as "Modesty Blaise" and "The Phantom Liberty." Jeff Daneils's character in "The Squid and the Whale" hits on his nurse because her beauty is reminiscent of Vitti's. That comes as no surprise because when you watch a film starring Vitti you feel like it's an intimate and quiet occasion between you and a lovely lady staring back at you, waiting for you to escape with her but maybe she hasn't made up her mind yet. Vitti is unpredictable, unprecedented, and unequivocally a phenomenon.

Essential Monica Vitti moments:
*Wandering into a sea of gawking men much to her surprise in "L'Avventura"
*Writhing around a blood red room in "The Red Desert"
*Playing hard to get with Alain Delon in "L'Eclisse"

my voyage to italy: pt. 4

The Sartorialist is capturing the scene at Milan Fashion Week for men.style.com and I can't help but be reminded of the dapper and chic men of Florence and Rome that I saw last summer. This photo in particular is very much the definition of a the business men I'd see in my neighborhood in Florence. They would parade about during their daily siesta like the coolest of peacocks, proud and confident in their suited armor that is at once very stylish but comfortable and functional enough for them to ride their bikes to and fro. This common display of elegant and practical workwear is hard to find here in the States but in Italy you can find it at every turn.

my voyage to italy: pt. 3

"Everything in Its Right Place (Live)"
Radiohead

Radiohead was for all the cool kids in high school, so naturally I had no appreciation for them. However, "Kid A" was eventually shoved down my throat and what a mighty helping of ambient-electro-post-"OK Computer" despair and beauty. I loved every inch of that album and in a way it become a contemporary version of Bowie's "Low" for my generation. It was illusive, dreamy, and unrelenting in its dark tones and airy-techno textures.

I consumed so much of their music catalog that I found myself bloated and uninterested in their recent work. However, I reconnected with Radiohead on the plane ride to Italy. It was a night flight to Milan that was nerve racking but thrilling as it was my first plane ride ever. I fell asleep with my iPod on shuffle and woke up to "Everything in Its Right Place", a live version from an album one of my best friends from college loaned to me a few months prior. The hum of Thom Yorke's moody voice and chilly synthesizers were a welcomed addition to waking up to the rising grapefruit-hued sun that peaked through the blanket of clouds and expansive Atlantic Ocean. I listened to this album non-stop when I got to Italy and it became my security blanket of sorts. It was an ideal beginning to my imminent journey into a foreign but attractive territory.

my voyage to italy: pt. 2

One of the most exquisitely styled movies is also one of the most underrated movies of the past decade. Anthony Minghella's take on the seductive and illusory world of Tom Ripley in "The Talented Ripley" made a great impression on me upon its initial release. I remember being really excited about the generation of actors in the film, who at that point hadn't quite cemented their style and cinematic iconography quite yet. The film sumptuously shot on locations in Rome, Venice, and the sultry coasts of Italy presented a certain exoticism about the country. It's almost Italy as you want it to be--inviting, oozing with sensuality, and deliciously full of vitality and vigor. Watching a tawny Gwyneth Paltrow and Jude Law lounge on a posh beach on the Amalfi coast makes you want to jump through the screen and join them. Nights spent at smoky cafes and days spent on boats drinking Campari and swimming contributed to my burgeoning interest in Italy. It's an idealized and romanticized look at a country long ago but an attractive and convincing one nonetheless. "The Talented Mr. Ripley" is definitely part of my memories and reasons for venturing to a land where everyone looks dipped in gold and revels in a life of leisure and comfort.

The Talented Mr. Ripley
directed by Anthony Minghella, 1999

Does style like this exist anymore?

my voyage to italy

"La Dolce Vita"
dir., Federico Fellini
1960

It has been a full year since my first abroad experience. It's almost impossible not to label it life-changing like many young and impressionable minds so often describe it in their romanticized travel journals and tales they will eventually tell their families and friends upon arrival home. The sights and sounds of Italy will never leave me. The pace of Florence in the evening; the still allies of Venice; and the hot ball of bustling power that is Rome have become part of me. My eyes were wide and open to every moment I had the distinct pleasure to consume for the five weeks I spent in that gorgeous country.

Perhaps film fascinates me because of its ability to transport and show you a world outside of your window. I had never been on a commercial aircraft or across the United States border prior to June of last year. Shocking, I know. My destination was clear and had been set since my eyes first laid on the beautiful and damned world of Federico Fellini's "La Dolce Vita." Anita Ekberg splashing about in the Trevi Fountain while a seemingly stolid and enchanted Marcello Mastroianni handsomely gazed from afar spoke to me. Something about that moment between a vacuous movie star and her mesmerized tabloid journalist was unreal but visceral and tangible. I had to see this place in the flesh so that it wasn't the fleeting fantasy so many forgettable films had been before. I did see it and as I wiped the sweat off my damp brow from the pulsating heat of Rome, I turned the corner it hit me like a pile of cinder blocks. The air cleared and the heat seemed less sultry. There it was, I thought. There it was. The feeling of a life goal accomplished is indescribable. For a brief and dreamy moment I could hear the echo of Ekberg's voice calling me closer but desperately hoping that in fact it wasn't all a dream, and luckily it wasn't.

Trevi Fountain, July 2006