Monday, October 17, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
last day of the year
tmy own calendar, to answer the burning question. With my %&th b.day popping up like a medusa's head tomorrow I've decided to devote today to musical visual comments that, oblique as they may be, genuinely reflect certain aspects of my year.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
rollin and tumblrin
Both of my loyal reasders are probably aware of my new scamperings on tumblr, namely http://iloveagenre.tumblr.com and its' heavybreathing kid brother http:/dial-a-lad.tumblr.com. They're both good sources of momentary visual and erotic diversion, but lacking in depth.
Dear reader, am I capable of depth? am I a mere gibbering dilettante, rolling in pools of my own fluids, my harlequin costume darkly stained as a biscuit bag? Go to my livejournal, where,as davidbuch5, I intend to chronicle the day-to-day life, culinary, vinous, cinematic and even sexual,of a country-inhabitant who is queer as fuck.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
a word to the weird
It's a greyish afternoon in almost - summer Delaware. A few of you might remember my abortive essay in genre fiction, iloveagenre.blogspot.com. Specialists such as James Champagne, Oscar d'
Alessi and George Wines were very generous contributors. As the sky fades to a color like exposed Ilford paper, I ask, no, I beseech everyone of you who have something to say, even if it's only a question, to pipe up. I'm usually perching at Facebook, iloveagenre.com @tumblr.com or buchcond7@gmail.com.
Alessi and George Wines were very generous contributors. As the sky fades to a color like exposed Ilford paper, I ask, no, I beseech everyone of you who have something to say, even if it's only a question, to pipe up. I'm usually perching at Facebook, iloveagenre.com @tumblr.com or buchcond7@gmail.com.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Song of the Loon
Thinking back on the various tributes and remembrances of the late Elizabeth Taylor that I read in the past few weeks, I don't recall much, if any mention of her appearance in George Steven's ponderous but memorable A Place in the Sun. In Stevens' visual strategy, Taylor is often seen at a distance, a prize to be obtained, a goal Montgomery Clift must achieve or die. She was in transition from ingenue roles like Father of the Bride. Sometimes her real uncertainty shines through very effectively.
A Place in the Sun is not a great movie. Stevens tries too hard to make a significant film and fails to make a thoroughly enjoyable one. But there are two and a half great performances here - Montgomery Clift as the ambitious but weak George Eastman, Shelley Winters living comfortably in her role as a factory girl in trouble ( her scene with a doctor she hopes will abort her out-of-wedlock child is still startling) and the freakishly dogged Raymond Burr as the prosecutor at George's murder trial. Get yourself an espresso and enjoy a languid movie that, if not great, is still some kind of classic.
A Place in the Sun is not a great movie. Stevens tries too hard to make a significant film and fails to make a thoroughly enjoyable one. But there are two and a half great performances here - Montgomery Clift as the ambitious but weak George Eastman, Shelley Winters living comfortably in her role as a factory girl in trouble ( her scene with a doctor she hopes will abort her out-of-wedlock child is still startling) and the freakishly dogged Raymond Burr as the prosecutor at George's murder trial. Get yourself an espresso and enjoy a languid movie that, if not great, is still some kind of classic.