Thursday, January 31, 2019

Mektoub, my love: canto uno

 If you're ready to sit through 180 minutes of a multitude of characters - most of whom are hard to distinguish from one another -, endless banal gab reminiscent of the worst Eric Rohmer talkies, a drawn-out voyeuristic sex scene right at the beginning, an equally drawn-out sheep birth scene towards the end and never-ending bar, beach and restaurant scenes in between, then I would definitely recommend this French/Italian movie by Abdellatif Kechiche.

Refers to the movie Mektoub, My Love: Canto Uno from 2017, which for incomprehensible reasons won two awards at the 2017 Venice International Film Festival. After watching the film, I was so puzzled why it was ever made that I read synopses and articles about it on the Internet and wondered whether they were about the same movie or whether these articles were copied from something someone had written without seeing it.

Friday, January 25, 2019

The supersonic haiku

The TV talks, the radio 
talks, the people talk, the
pizza would if it could.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Based on a real pizzeria/bar experience. I decided to call this “supersonic” because the atmosphere created by the competing sound sources was definitely more than just sonic.

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

A bead of Chinese wisdom

“You never hear lambs complain about sheep’s milk.”

I’m not sure what exactly the significance of this bead of Chinese wisdom is even though it is entirely true.

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

Friday, January 11, 2019

The eventful afternoon haiku

Fell asleep watching
Sherlock Holmes’ private life – not
a single thing missed

– Leonard Blumfled (© 2019)

Razor edge of time reporting from the real life front. The movie (The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, 1970), even though directed by Billy Wilder, who has made great films, is only worth a few yawns ... or sleeping through part of it.

Wednesday, January 2, 2019

The new person heard about today haiku

named Scarlet now living in 
Miami. Good bye!

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2019)

One of those truth and nothing but razor edge of time poems. Probably just as significant as the red wheelbarrow.