My first feature article for the online magazine popmatters.com, ‘The Swollen Eye of the Man With No Name’.
Sub-head: ‘Kurosawa’s samurai, Stuart Heisler’s gangster, Sergio Leone’s cowboy, and George Miller’s misfit suffer a similar black eye, but with dramatically different effect.‘
Emanuelle and the Last Cannibals, Joe D’Amato. Eurotrash grindhouse doesn’t come any trashier! It’s a cash-in on the soft-core sensation Emmanuelle (1974) which spawned dozens of rip-offs in the 70s. This one stars the delectable Laura Gemser, who also starred in the Black Emanuelle films, none of which have anything to do with the original except for sleazily sexploitation and similar titles. But wait, there’s more! EATLC also anticipates the gruesome proto-torture- porn flick Cannibal Holocaust (1980) in which the beautiful are damned…then stripped and eaten. Basically, in EATLC two strains of B-flick 70s aesthetic merge into a hybrid monster that showcases the worst of both. I can recommend this piece of indigestible garbage because it is riotous fun for both housebound painkiller addicted winos that have nothing else to get off with on a Friday night and for discriminating cineastes like ourselves.
This was posted to the #williamlgibson Instagram hashtag. On the shelf at Changi Airport Terminal Two — so that’s all three terminals at Singapore airport confirmed!
Next to Amy Tan and Tash Aw…well, that is keeping good company!
Keep those posts to Instagram coming…I’m thinking of a special giveaway for the best picture
Shirley Temple is dead. Amidst the usual fawning celebrity obituaries was this gem from The Guardian:
‘Graham Greene, infamously, reviewing Wee Willie Winkie [1937 Fox film] in the London weekly Night and Day, wrote: “Infancy with her is a disguise, her appeal is more secret and more adult … her neat and well-developed rump twisted in the tap dance: her eyes had a sidelong searching coquetry … watch the way she measures a man with agile studio eyes, with dimpled depravity. Adult emotions of love and grief glissade across the mask of childhood, a childhood that is only skin-deep … “‘
As usual, Greene nailed it perfectly. After reading that, watch the most famous clip from Temple’s childhood oeuvre:
There’s barely disguised lust in the way they film the little girl singing to a group of grown men that enhances the double entendre of the lyrics.
This sort of slavering male gaze is all over the adaption of Kipling (where the lead was a boy) that got Greene into so much trouble:
Of course speaking truth to power and pointing out the filth behind the innocence is never easy. People cling assiduously to their veneers of moral superiority and celluloid dreams of little blonde girls.
The Guardian notes that ‘Fox sued and the case was settled in Temple’s favour with the judge (a fan) deeming the libel “a gross outrage”. Greene fled to Mexico, and the magazine was fined £3,500. The settlement remained in trust for Temple in a British bank until she turned 21, when it was donated to charity.’
Hopefully the Shirley Temple’s in Mexico had rum in them.
Fan posted this image to Facebook. Enjoying ebook of Singapore Black with a Tiger beer and sambal prawns…just as it was meant to be!
Apparently there is now an Instagram hastag #willliamlgibson so if you use Instagram, get on that and post your copy of the book!
Interesting review over at popmatters.com of a book that it looks like I’ll have to get…interviews with some of my favorite jazz musicians. Makes me miss NYC and all the great music I used to see!
So I’ve got lots of photos from my trips around Asia which sometimes turn into larger projects. Other times they sit on my hard drive. In my spare time at work I’m teaching myself the video editing software Final Cut Pro. I’m also, of course, constantly promoting my own for-sale stuff. All of this adds up to a short video clip featuring images of erotic carvings on the Pashupatinath Temple in Bhaktapur, Nepal.
I first encountered the carvings in David Gordon White’s book Kiss of the Yogini and on a trip to Nepal later that year sought out the temple. The carvings are not pornography as that entire concept did not exist in that culture: rather they depict certain ritual sex acts–tantric sex–that are believed to bestow power from the life-force (read White’s book to get the skinny on all that). Suffice to say that when Sting or your hippie Uncle talks about ‘tantric sex’, they probably mean the version that blends elements of watered down Yoga breathing techniques with positions from The Joy of Sex. They probably don’t spend a lot of time collecting and drinking mixed sexual fluids during orgies in cemeteries.
Check out the temple carvings in my video. The music is from two sources: an SAE Institute graduate student’s field recordings in rural India, and ‘Apna Desh’ from Bollywood Steel Guitars on Sublime Frequencies.