I can't seem to sleep, can't seem to write- I woke at 4am something and browsed the channels (I sleep with the TV on almost mute) to find a very disturbing little clunk of cinema history.
Seconds (John Frankenheimer, 1966) is a very odd movie, not fabulous, but fascinating- I thought the ending was a rebirth (what with the long journey down a hallway while Rock Hudson screamed and had to be eventually gagged (the sound was almost like an infant) but I've just been reading reviews and commentary and no one else mentions that- of well. Maybe that's too Twilight Zone-
I used to have such a crush on Hudson- he was paired often with Doris Day (my idol- she was so blonde, so pretty, so good-hearted) and so handsome- who knew? I think I spent my life looking for that type of man- yummy, dark, and reticent, non-sexually sexual. You want names? Buy the book (I'm slowly writing it) but I've always been suspect of people that were too physical too fast and then puzzled when the follow-through missed something. Come close/don't get too close- heck, I even hate 'passing the peace' in church. I definately have intimacy issues.
Been reading my autographed copy of Profoundly Erotic- Sexy Movies that Changed History by Joe Bob Briggs (don't let the Texas-two-name fool you, this is a serious book) so my outlook may be a little corrupted. Of course, he doesn't mention my personal fave- the glove removal scene in The Age of Innocence. That scene gets me randy every time- though I suspect part of that is because it is an unfulfilled promise- whatthehell is wrong with me?
A man walks down the street, he says,
‘why am I soft in the middle, now?
Why am I soft in the middle and the rest of my life is so hard?
I need a photo opportunity, I want a shot at redemption,
don’t want to end up a cartoon in a cartoon graveyard. Paul Simon
Here's to angels in the architecture-