What do you do if you sneeze whilst driving a cab?
Last night, our group hosted a dinner for visiting Italian academics. The Hoosier meal primarily consisting of pork and corn (a meal I don’t eat because of the pork). But one detail that I couldn’t skimp over was the wine. I’ll be damned if I serve Italians some coastal wine aged with formaldehyde. You know, because if you're going to eat pork before Ramadan and Rosh Hashanah, you might as well make sure the red wine is the next best thing to the blood of our saviour...er something. Plus, the last thing I need is to be sleeping with the fishes in a pair of concrete boots. Especially when the group of people we're hosting looks like they could put the Sopranos to shame.
The wine eventually became the focus of the conversation. Not so much the wine, but Americans focus on alcohol - the binge drinking and the high school keggers and what not. A regal woman in turquoise silk stated, this is not a problem for Europe. I was ornery, she continued, but we do not care about obliterating ourselves like Americans care about obliterating themselves.
I’ve never been to Europe, so I can’t vouch for this claim. But I do know that it becomes an issue when people drive under the influence, which is not a frequent occurrence in Europe since autos are considered a luxury. It could very well be that they are becoming just as obliterated, but walking home and not causing the physical damage that becomes headlines in the states (see Paris Hilton and Mel Gibson). I'm just saying that we have measurable statistics.
Speaking of obliterating oneself with alcohol, Toombsday and I saw Bent Hamer’s film adaptation of Bukowski’s Factotum last weekend. We arrived early, expecting the lobby to be swarming with Bukowski fans. Luckily, this only includes five people, so finding a seat was easier than expected.
The film did Bukowski justice -- reeking of alcohol and teeming with dysfunction. I want to say that the protagonist Hank Chinaski’s addiction was a slow descent into hell, to be captive to alcohol and love. But it wasn’t. It depicted the issue of alcoholism better than that. What I realized after leaving this film is that Bukowski’s opinion of the alcoholic would prefer to keep everything the same, which both defies and embodies the term factotum.
According to the film’s introduction, Factotum is a person who changes jobs frequently. To Chinaski, this means finding the next paycheck to get drunk. From chipping and delivering ice to boxing brake pads to dusting a newspaper’s two-story statue, all of these employs are symbolic. Though a shifting means of income for Chinaski, they represent the static status of alcoholism that Chinaski is addicted to - to keep himself desensitized from reality and any personal development. Symbolically -- ice, brakes, and a statue -- represent the frozen condition that Chinaski aspires to through alcohol.
What I found even more disturbing about this film is its lack of movement. There were barely any extras or any set design. Racing to the horse track to place bets, there is hardly any traffic. Running to the newspaper for his last paycheck, there are hardly any people on the streets. Everyone seems to be trying to run very hard to stay very still. At least until they get fired. Though unnerving, this sparse background complemented the nothingness that Factotum is about.
The synergy between Chinaski (Matt Dillon) and Jan (Lili Taylor) also represents this insular dysfunction. Of course, this work is inspired by Bukowski, so there is plenty of drinking and fucking. And both for the same end result -- to obliterate oneself. The interaction between the two is like watching two crabs in a bucket -- one tries to crawl out while the other tries to pull it back in, expending all their energy just to stay in the same isolated situation.
If my description of this film sounds dreary, it’s because it is. I would only recommend this film to people who read and enjoy Bukowski. That is unless you want to see Marisa Tomei’s tahtahs. Because you do get to see those for a few seconds. And that's a selling point (points?)in itself.
The wine eventually became the focus of the conversation. Not so much the wine, but Americans focus on alcohol - the binge drinking and the high school keggers and what not. A regal woman in turquoise silk stated, this is not a problem for Europe. I was ornery, she continued, but we do not care about obliterating ourselves like Americans care about obliterating themselves.
I’ve never been to Europe, so I can’t vouch for this claim. But I do know that it becomes an issue when people drive under the influence, which is not a frequent occurrence in Europe since autos are considered a luxury. It could very well be that they are becoming just as obliterated, but walking home and not causing the physical damage that becomes headlines in the states (see Paris Hilton and Mel Gibson). I'm just saying that we have measurable statistics.
Speaking of obliterating oneself with alcohol, Toombsday and I saw Bent Hamer’s film adaptation of Bukowski’s Factotum last weekend. We arrived early, expecting the lobby to be swarming with Bukowski fans. Luckily, this only includes five people, so finding a seat was easier than expected.
The film did Bukowski justice -- reeking of alcohol and teeming with dysfunction. I want to say that the protagonist Hank Chinaski’s addiction was a slow descent into hell, to be captive to alcohol and love. But it wasn’t. It depicted the issue of alcoholism better than that. What I realized after leaving this film is that Bukowski’s opinion of the alcoholic would prefer to keep everything the same, which both defies and embodies the term factotum.
According to the film’s introduction, Factotum is a person who changes jobs frequently. To Chinaski, this means finding the next paycheck to get drunk. From chipping and delivering ice to boxing brake pads to dusting a newspaper’s two-story statue, all of these employs are symbolic. Though a shifting means of income for Chinaski, they represent the static status of alcoholism that Chinaski is addicted to - to keep himself desensitized from reality and any personal development. Symbolically -- ice, brakes, and a statue -- represent the frozen condition that Chinaski aspires to through alcohol.
What I found even more disturbing about this film is its lack of movement. There were barely any extras or any set design. Racing to the horse track to place bets, there is hardly any traffic. Running to the newspaper for his last paycheck, there are hardly any people on the streets. Everyone seems to be trying to run very hard to stay very still. At least until they get fired. Though unnerving, this sparse background complemented the nothingness that Factotum is about.
The synergy between Chinaski (Matt Dillon) and Jan (Lili Taylor) also represents this insular dysfunction. Of course, this work is inspired by Bukowski, so there is plenty of drinking and fucking. And both for the same end result -- to obliterate oneself. The interaction between the two is like watching two crabs in a bucket -- one tries to crawl out while the other tries to pull it back in, expending all their energy just to stay in the same isolated situation.
If my description of this film sounds dreary, it’s because it is. I would only recommend this film to people who read and enjoy Bukowski. That is unless you want to see Marisa Tomei’s tahtahs. Because you do get to see those for a few seconds. And that's a selling point (points?)in itself.
posted by anarchic at 10:05 AM
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