favorite movie #82 - halloween edition: the man who fell to earth

Favorite movies that have had an impact on me - #82 - The Man Who Fell to Earth (1976) - I saw this film for the first time at the Cinema Village in New York. Talk about perfect casting for a beautiful, unearthly creature — David Bowie in he is first film appearance. Director Nicoloas Roeg started out as a cinematographer, and his films are always visually striking. Bowie plays Thomas Jerome Newton, an alien who has come to our world in search of water for his dying planet, who becomes distracted by pop culture and other things, like sex with Mary Lou (Candy Clark), watching television, and drinking. Dr. Nathan Bryce (Rip Torn) becomes suspicious of Newton, too ...

a book series from hunger

Whitley Strieber wrote The Hunger in 1981. It was his second novel and featured Miriam Blaylock, a glamorous female vampire, her current companion John. A third side to the triangle is a brilliant young doctor, Sarah Roberts, whose research may provide an answer to Miriam's immortality and what it might mean to the human race. The book was memorably made into a sexy, campy feature film by Tony Scott in 1983 with Catherine Deneuve, David Bowie, and Susan Sarandon as the trio. What makes The Hunger different from other vampire novels is how Strieber presents a scientific approach to vampirism — the answer to what makes Miriam different might be in her blood, and therefore could possibly be harnessed in the lab somehow. The day-to-day practical aspects of being a vampire — how to select victims, what to do with the bodies after feeding — are presented as a way to plausibly insinuate that vampires have been successfully and glamorously operating in the shadows of our society from time immemorial.

Miriam is a fascinating creature. She views humans as her food source, but she is also obsessed with their talents and inventions — music, poetry, painting, design. She is also extremely lonely. She periodically creates a companion by giving them the "gift" of her own blood through transfusion. Their ability to stay young "forever" alongside her is only temporary, however, as John is finding out. After 200 years or so they begin to age — rapidly. Could Sarah Roberts help Miriam halt this deterioration? And what is up in the attic of her fabulous Sutton Place brownstone?

David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve in The Hunger (1983)

There is nothing wrong with an author revisiting an old theme, as Stephen King has proven with Doctor Sleep. But it is imperative that the author respects the memories of their readers, and at the very least goes back to re-read their original novel as a refresher. Unfortunately this is not the case with Strieber's two follow-ups to The Hunger. Twenty years after the first novel can out Strieber decided to revive Miriam and her world in The Last Vampire, in 2001. Not only did he either fudge or completely forget what happened in the original novel, including stories of Miriam's origin, but he introduced a third character, intrepid vampire hunter and CIA operative Paul Ward, a truly annoying character. Ward's age doesn't seem to compute — visual and anecdotal clues seem to suggest he's in his 40s, but his behavior at other times seems much older, and then, later, during some truly bizarre sexual encounters, much younger. Plus, he doesn't seem to do any detecting at all, but just ends up right where he needs to be most of the time. Science had been thrown out the window this time around. There is no interest on how or what vampires exist or what they might have to teach us, but just kill or be killed. Strieber's second shot at Miriam isn't much better. The brilliant, elegant, and overly cautious vamp (how else did she survive all this centuries?) is no more. She seems to do one stupid thing after another, and in the last third of the novel is presented as a nubile young woman who is running a downtown sex club in New York City who is just hungering for a vampire baby? Yikes.

Things don't get any better in the third, and one can only hope final book in the series, Lilith's Dream, which came out in 2002. Miriam was still alive at the end of The Last Vampire, but Strieber seems to have forgotten that. This book instead follows an uber-ancient vampire, Lilith, who may have ties to the Old Testament. But who knows? And guess who's back — Paul Ward, going off half-cocked across the world in search of this creature.

If you run across any of these books I highly recommend The Hunger. The other two you would be better off skipping.

First published on Cannonball Read 10

when bowie met der bingle

Another of my favorite holiday songs is "Peace on Earth/Little Drummer Boy," by David Bowie and Bing Crosby. I remember watching this Christmas special, "Bing Crosby's Merrie Olde Christmas," on TV when it first aired in 1977. I can still see myself, sitting with my dad in the living room, our worlds colliding, as this odd couple sang this duet. It's sad and strange that the holiday season is the only time we get to hear these two guys on the radio these days ...

favorite song friday: fashion

The kid has been asking me to play this song lately when we take the dog out for her evening walk. Good taste is hereditary, huh? I forgot how much I liked this song and its noisy guitar work (via guitarist Robert Fripp).

favorite song friday: space oddity

We just saw and really enjoyed Ben Stiller's new version of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (review to come). The film has an original score by Theodore Shapiro, but the song that really stands out, and becomes a welcome ear worm, is the David Bowie classic "Space Oddity."

the glam that fell to earth: velvet goldmine

1998's Velvet Goldmine is more than just an attempt to capture Britain's (and marginally, America's) short-lived obsession with glam rock in the 1970s. It's a true aural-visual experience. There is dialogue, but not much of what the characters say is as affecting as how and what they're wearing while they say it.

Director Todd Haynes (Safe, Far From Heaven) has always had an eye for color, but the David Bowie-inspired Velvet Goldmine is a non-stop assault of jewel-toned and glittery beauty. The original idea for the project was a Bowie biopic, but Bowie didn't like the script and didn't allow any of his music to appear in the film. What may have first seemed a blow ended up being a boon to the project, as Haynes could take aspects of Bowies life and career, like his Ziggy Stardust character, and spin it off in his own direction. He not only had fun with his version of Ziggy, called Maxwell Demon, but also references Citizen Kane, and even channels an alien Oscar Wilde (many of the characters' dialogue is made up of Wilde quotes) to add to the benevolent excess.

Brian Slade, "Rock and Roll is a prostitute, it should be tarted up."

Jonathan Rhys Meyers as Brian Slade (courtesy of Fan Pop)

Velvet Goldmine poses the question, a la Kane, of what happened to '70s superstar Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), after he hoaxed his death on stage — and his fans and critics abandoned him after the deception. A British reporter now living in America named Arthur Stuart (Christian Bale) is tasked with the assignment of uncovering the disappearance of Slade. Stuart is at first reluctant, as his own troubled youth and sexuality are closely tied to Slade and glam rock. Scenes from Slade's rise and fall are intercut with interviews between Stuart and Slade's ex-wife Mandy (Toni Colette), and his attempts to contact rock star Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor), who was Slade's collaborator and for a time, lover. While Slade is clearly Bowie-esque, Wild's character has aspects of Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, and even Kurt Cobain.

Mandy, "What is true about music is true about life: that beauty reveals everything because it expresses nothing."

Toni Colette as Mandy Slade

Mr. & Mrs. Glam

The bisexual Slade seems to enchant everyone in his orbit. He seems to have genuine affection for his wife Mandy and lover Curt, but does he love them — can he love anyone? Fame seems to be the only thing that he truly desires or understands. He has as deep an impact on Curt, who truly loves him, as he does his young and naive fan Arthur, who only loves him from afar. As much as Velvet Goldmine may be considered a "gay" love story (and part coming-out film, from Arthur's point of view), what comes across most strongly while viewing the film is its romanticism. A very long kiss between Brian Slade and Curt Wild is heady and romantic, no matter what your orientation. Maybe, for just that moment, Slade is truly in love.

Curt Wild, "The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history."

Hello young lovers: Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor) and Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys Meyers)

Rhys Meyers and McGregor do a lot of their own singing in the film, but they are also ably abetted by  such music luminaries as Thom Yorke, Thurston Moore, Andy Mackay, Ron Asheton, and many others. Classic glam rock hits are reinterpreted for the film, including T. Rex's "20th Century Boy," The Stooges' "T.V. Eye," and Lou Reed's "Satellite Of Love."

When the mystery of Slade's disappearance is finally revealed, it isn't exactly equivalent to a "Rosebud" moment. But I was still sorry to see the end of Velvet Goldmine. There aren't many movies that are so beautiful to watch, from scene to scene, even frame-to-frame. That are so unabashedly sad, and goofy, and exhilarating, and romantic. I'm still thinking about it, days later, and may have to watch it again soon.

(b)ratpack

The kid loves Der Bingle. She's almost seven, but I think she's seen White Christmas that many times already. Over the holidays we watched that movie a few times as well as a special on PBS on Bing, featuring his many television specials and guests.

[on Frank Sinatra] Frank is a singer who comes along once in a lifetime, but why did he have to come in mine?

I actually remember seeing Bing's duet with David Bowie on television with my parents in Crosby's Christmas special first run, although I didn't realize at the time that Bing was recently no more. I guess my parents didn't tell me.

[about Elvis Presley] He helped to kill off the influence of me and my contemporaries, but I respect him for that. Because music always has to progress, and no-one could have opened the door to the future like he did.

I just downloaded some pix from the iPhone and lo and behold my budding iPhonographer had documented one of the best numbers on the special, Bing with Frankie and Dino. My little (b)ratpacker. Maybe I can rent Robin and the Seven Hoods next ...

[on Judy Garland] The most talented woman I ever knew was Judy Garland. She was a great, great comedienne and she could do more things than any girl I ever knew. Act, sing, dance, make you laugh. She was everything. I had a great affection for her. Such a tragedy. Too much work, too much pressure, the wrong kind of people as husbands.

Der Bingle quotes from imdb

Related articles

• Hear Bing Crosby at his best (sfgate.com)

golden years

I've been thinking about why I blog lately. Mostly, because I want to share something that happens in the world and put my own spin on it. But maybe it's also a way to tell little stories from the past that might reflect on the present.

I upload current and not-so-current songs onto my iPhone and then shuffle through my taste in music, past and present, while I walk through town. A song can bring me right back to a particular time in my life, as music can do. Golden Years popped up in rotation the other day and zap - I was right back in high school gym class. For some reason the teachers decided we should be "dancing" instead of playing volleyball, so there we all were, learning a line-dance move to David Bowie.

That memory brought back another Bowie reference from my past, when I was an art student in NYC. I was heading to MoMA, hellbent on seeing Jasper John's Flag painting. MoMA was undergoing a renovation and all the "greatest hits" were in the basement. I was so focused on my mission, that I barely noticed the other folks who stepped on the elevator to view the collection.

As we headed down, I heard two girls giggling in the corner of the elevator. I finally turned to see what was their problem, and there, looking straight ahead was David Bowie, wearing a shiny gold jacket, his hair the exact matching color of his jacket. He glowed.

As the doors opened, he exited and everyone followed him out of the elevator and followed him from painting to painting, staring in excitement, awe, and embarrassment. Except me. I went in the other direction, trying to find Jasper Johns. After a few stops at some other favorites, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I was staring at Broadway Boogie Woogie, and David Bowie, who was in an adjacent gallery, appeared to be staring at me.

No way.

I moved on to an Ellsworth Kelley. So did Bowie, to Broadway Boogie Woogie, casually glancing over. Hmmm. This happened at a few more paintings and then wait - finally - there was Jasper Johns!

I headed over to the Flag, happy to reach my elusive quarry. A few moments later, someone was standing very close, on my left side, practically leaning into me. I don't have to tell you who. I looked up at him in disbelief and he just smiled. I stood there for a while, trying to pay some attention to the Johns, but I seemed to have lost interest in the painting. I started to feel uncomfortable. His crowd of admirers had disappeared. The hunted was now the hunter. And I got to taste , for a moment, what it must be like to be hounded.

I pretty much had my fill of art at that point, and ducked out of the gallery. As I sat on the subway home, writing down the event in my notebook (like I'd ever forget it), I wondered why he had chosen me to follow, and why I hadn't been able to say anything to him. Mostly, I guess, because I didn't have much to say - "You're David Bowie?" Not too impressive.

When I got home I looked in the mirror and saw that there were three streaks of different colored oil paint in my hair - alizarin crimson, pthalo green and cerulean blue. A clue! I had been in such a rush to get to the museum directly from painting class, to go after my target, as it were, I had never noticed the paint in my hair.

A little paint, a little stalking, a fun little memory.