Mercer

I recently went to my very first networking event. A few minutes before I walked into the room filled with people I had never met before, I was terrified. I thought that going up to complete strangers and introducing myself would only lead to me stumbling over my words and growing very, very red in the face (I blush A LOT, for no reason whatsoever).

There was something that I kept silently repeating to myself and it was "Mercer. Mercer. Tess Mercer. Tess Mercer. Mercer." - for those of you who are not familiar with Tess Mercer, she is a main character in the eighth, ninth and tenth (the final) season of Smallville. Without giving too much away, Tess is an incredibly strong businesswoman, who follows her head and keeps her cool. Most of the time anyway. She presents herself as unyielding and independent, someone who is not afraid of power and will go to great lengths to get what she wants.
For someone who initially was not one bit keen on entering the big bad world (in miniature), she provided an imperturbable inspiration. I love acting, and so I reminded myself of her great triumphs, her posture, her manner of speaking and so on and so forth.
But something happened when I finally did step into that room: I grabbed a glass of champagne and became my very own version of Tess Mercer. No reminder needed, no inspiration.
Not a single thought was wasted on how I ought to behave, how I should present myself. It dawned on me that I had seen enough portrayals of powerful women to not be reminded how to be like them. It came completely natural. All this was obviously aided by the fact that I knew exactly what I was talking about (namely future FILMS of mine and CINEMA in general).

After about an hour, I stopped and basked in my very own glory for a minute or two. I had done what I came to do (mostly), I had not made a fool of myself, I had not gotten drunk (occasionally sipping on the drink and never getting a top up will prevent this). SUCCESS.

If it won't come to you naturally, I suggest you find yourself a persona to aspire to during these events. Nevertheless... A word of caution: do not stray too much from yourself. People will eventually understand if you're pretending to be someone you mostly definitely are not (if they are paying attention). So find a balance between acting confident and revealing the right amount of "you".

Mottos can help, as can songs that make you feel empowered. For me, the clear winner in the latter would be "Starlight" by Muse, a tune I was listening to when I got accepted into my first choice university.

Once you will have conquered your fear of the room full of strangers, you will feel an enormous surge of confidence. How long that will last only you can decide. Same goes for what you will do with the many contacts you will make at the networking event.
Throw yourself into it, body, heart and soul.
Literally.

Flesh and Form

I caught Gilles Bourdos' Renoir last Saturday.
Needless to say that I liked it a lot. Then again, I tend to like the French films I choose to see. Luckily.
The story paints two very different pictures of how a woman can be percieved by two different (yet not so different) men. Christa Theret plays Andrée Heuschling, also called Dédé, muse to Pierre Auguste Renoir, the famous Impressionist painter, played by Michel Bouquet. She is classically beautiful and presents herself as a somewhat mysterious and spirited young woman, two characteristics that further her relationship with the "Patron". She undoubtedly becomes his favourite muse, a fact that adds to her being disliked by most other woman who live with Renoir.
All in all, this sees quite innocent and idyllic, but complications arise when Jean (Vincent Rottiers), one of the painter's sons, temporarily returns from the war to heal from a wound sustained in battle.
Dédé and Jean subtly develop a mutual liking that slowly turns into an amorous relationship.
But will the Patron stand for it?
You'll find the answer to that on the silver screen when you go see it.

It is a sensual, beautifully shot picture that explores the collisions between different kinds of artists, as well as the troubles between a rigid father and an oppressed son. The answer to (most of) their problems lies within a young, sometimes selfish woman. Good luck with that.
Also, a little present for cinephiles looking to see the film, pay particular attention to film references and Jean's attitude towards the idea of becoming a filmmaker. It is all quite amusing, considering how famous he became only a few years after the setting of Renoir.

If you are looking for a comparison between this feature and another French film in terms of how it looks, then the best example I can suggest is La fille du puisatier, "The Well Digger's Daughter", directed by Daniel Auteuil, who also starts as the well digger. Another worthy French film.
They really do know what they're doing.

But I Do Not Even Like Pink

Taken in Canterbury, Kent, United Kingdom.

Past, Present & Beautiful

Flew to Italy the other day, went to visit one of my favourite places in the world, namely the castle of Miramare in Trieste.

(The side entrance)

 

 

(Small part of the park)

Raise The Dead

I apologize for the more than a month's silence, but life has been getting in the way of my blogging. Excuses, excuses. But I'm here now.

I might have the great privilege of seeing Neil Jordan's latest film Byzantium, a vampire flick starring Gemma Arterton, Saoirse Ronan and Sam Riley. The last time I saw Arterton, she was causing social havoc in Stephen Frears' Tamara Drewe (2010), and I loved her for it. I think she's a truly formidable actress with an impressive artistic range (see The Disappearance of Alice Creed and Prince of Persia: Sands of Time for more details).
Now, let's have a look at how vampire flicks have evolved since the genre rose from the dead (no pun intended) - from the 1922 German film Nosferatu, which I have seen a fair amount of and was terrified by it, to the very appealing performance by Gary Oldman as Count Dracula in Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula (1992), vampires have always held a certain fascination for me. How could they not? They are mischievous, dark and terribly alluring.
This sentiment was then colossally diminished by the heresy committed on the genre that is the Twilight saga. I believe that there is no place for childish, naive women here. I say that with the full knowledge that Gary Oldman's love interest Mina can among other things be considered as such, nevertheless, Coppola's film is not directed towards a "13 year old girls" crowd. This is the key factor in my argument. The market for the vampire film should exclusively be the keen intellectual who can spot and identify references within the genre in literature and painting as well as merely in cinema(Carmilla, the first official vampire novel, written by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu for example). Twilight with its clumps of screaming teenage girls have made a mockery of what "vampire" stands for. Even so, I recognize and maintain that the best thing to come out of this gibe are the Cullens, the vampire family. They're objectified, admired and somewhat shunned by the mere mortals, as they should.
I can not wait to see what Jordan has in store for the audiences of Byzantium. I do hope I'll like it, I'm a massive Neil Jordan fan - his work is the perfect balance between serious, cheeky and purely heart-breaking (remember The End of The Affair, Breakfast on Pluto and finally the very relevant Interview with The Vampire: The Vampire Chronicles?).
But I still have not encountered a vampire film that could beat my ultimate favourite of the genre: Dennis Gansel's Wir Sind Die Nacht (2010), a tale of three beautiful vampiresses who welcome an 18 year old "newborn" into their midst after their leader, the deadly Louise, falls in love (and lust) with her. Conflict, mutations and flawless pandemonium ensue. A true hell raiser.

Being Brief

Zero Dark Thirty (2012):
Actually a pretty damn good film. Jessica Chastain is impressive and Bigelow's style, which I very much disliked in The Hurt Locker (2008), is gripping. And although it is almost three hours long, it does not drag. A definite must-see.

To The Wonder (2012):
Terrence Malick being pretentious is 5 different languages. What I have learned from this film is as follows - Never let a fancy film title seduce you.
(His best work remains Badlands, 1973)


A very brief post, from a very tired girl. A thousand times good night!

Attic Findings

 

 

 

 

A pair of beautiful 19th century earrings I found in the attic two days ago. Thought they deserved some proper appreciation..

 

 

Musings & Two et plus

"Blood formed a neat pool of red underneath her fingers. Death claimed her, piece by piece, skin by skin, turning the once warm and welcoming body into an icy and pale statue." (The beginning of the beginning of a new short story)

Elizabeth and I are working on another blog together - it will be dedicated mainly to getting rid of our writer's block, one that normally always plagues us during these grey months.

Check it out HERE. The first post as you will notice is the post entitled "Musings" from this blog.

Musings

"Darkness descended on the cliff where she had been sitting since dawn. The air was thick with smoke, as the land behind her burned itself to the ground. Ashes to ashes. Below her, many miles away, the sea roared for her approval. Violent waves clashed with the mighty earth like the day she had risen from the remainders of another world. She barely remembered, and yet sometimes.. sometimes a sudden flash of light would bring her back instantaneously. She would twitch, a demon would possess her for a second, a minute, an hour. And then she'd be alone again, in that feeble body that had been given to her. She begged to stay in the warmth and familiarity of the world she had known for a brief while, but each time something would yank the darling spirit away from her, and she would be alone again. Flames licked across the coast. She could smell it, taste in on herself - her pale, ceramic-like hands, her delicate frame, her monstrous lips and her eyes, the only part of her that had ever truly known anything. A feeling, a sentiment, a trifle of love, a piece of a life long past. She shivered at the thought, engulfed in the fire's greedy arms. She continued to dream, to let her feet dangle from the cliff. They longed for the coldness of the water, even the itch the salt would leave as it always did when she returned underwater. Whether this was her destiny this time around she did not know. She could not determine whether it was in her best interest or whether she'd be condemning herself to an impetuous, impulsive and unnecessary death. The thought became an idea in her mind. Her eyes opened to another world, an escape. An escape. Another world? Another escape? Escape. She covered her face from fire, fire and water, wave and flame. Her skin burned and her mind was washed away. She awoke, deeply lost within herself. Escape?"

Battle Cry

In light of the recent publication of the Razzie Awards nominees, I thought it would only be fitting if my next post included some mention of it. That said, I didn't believe there was much justice done to the this year nominated films, who count among them Snow White And The Huntsman (Sanders, 2012) and the remake Total Recall (Wiseman, 2012).
Considering what these awards represent, I reflected on what they must mean to those who are in favour of "winning". After all, the Razzie Award is married to the little horrid word "worst":
Worst actor, worst actress, worst director, worst screenplay and so on.
Worst Bla Bla Bla.
No matter how idiotic I find some films (I particularly detest all those American pictures that knowingly defecate on cinema as a form of veneration, not to mention human intelligence), is it really necessary to give the people who created them an award for their performance? To record for all time that he or she won the prize for being "worst" of the year?

I think not.
Making a film, any kind of film, is no bloody picnic.

Besides, in previous years some truly talented actors and actresses have been nominated for/have received these derogatory awards. Angelina Jolie (whom I admire very much as a woman and as an actress) is one of them, inexplicably.

Here is my battle cry:

DOWN WITH THE RAZZIES