|January 22nd, 2014||#22|
Join Date: Dec 2003
Location: Virginia, CSA
3 times the author of that called the slimy kike "White".....
"First: Do No Good." - The Hymiecratic Oath
"The man who does not exercise the first law of nature—that of self preservation — is not worthy of living and breathing the breath of life." - John Wesley Hardin
|February 1st, 2014||#25|
|February 9th, 2014||#26|
Shia LaBeouf causes scene at 'Nymphomaniac' premiere
Shia LaBeouf causes scene at 'Nymphomaniac' premiere
BERLIN - Shia LaBeouf caused a stir at the premiere of "Nymphomaniac" at the Berlin film festival on Sunday.
LaBeouf, who has starred in the "The Transformers" movies and in "Nymphomaniac" plays a lover of the main character Joe.
Asked how it felt to perform sexually explicit scenes in the film, LaBeouf took an oblique swipe at journalists, suggesting they were like "seagulls following the trawler to get sardines". He then walked out of the press conference.
LaBeouf later appeared on the premiere's red carpet wearing a brown paper bag on his head. The words 'I am not famous anymore' were scrawled on the bag, which had eye holes cut out of it.
Danish director Lars von Trier premiered the "director's cut" of the film Sunday, but stayed away from the media on a day that also saw the premiere of a film about strict Catholicism's impact on a teenage girl.
Von Trier's film starring young actress Stacy Martin and a long list of actors as her sexual partners, drew long queues to cinemas, even though it is being shown out of competition for the festival's top prize to be awarded next Saturday.
Charlotte Gainsbourg appears in the second volume of the extended version of the film, which will not be shown in Berlin.
Von Trier appeared with his cast for a photo shoot, wearing a T-shirt that said "persona non grata" - an apparent reference to his having been asked to leave the Cannes film festival three years ago after saying that Hitler had had some good ideas. As has been his custom since then, he did not attend the news conference.
Asked if the director had been able to make the films he wanted, producer Louise Veth said: "Yes he has done what he wanted to until now so let's hope that it will continue.
"Of course this, with a sex topic, made it a little difficult because of public rules. Sex is more difficult than violence - I don't know why but that's how it is."
The pairing of the Danish director's steamy opus with the German-made "Kreuzweg" ("Stations of the Cross") about a Catholic family bringing up their daughter in a strict religious environment, made for an odd juxtaposition, but one the film's director, Dietrich Bruggemann, seemed to relish.
"OUR RELIGION IS CINEMA"
"Our religion is cinema and this is the cathedral and that's what you do on Sunday. first you go to church service and then you have some fun," Bruggemann told a news conference.
"Fun" would certainly not be a word for Bruggemann's harrowing film which shows a charming, pretty and bright young girl's descent into self-loathing, self-doubt and eventually anorexia in a deeply religious German Roman Catholic family.
She is torn between the teachings of her priest, played by Florian Stetter, who at catechism class tells teenagers that rock and soul music are instruments of Satan and that "impurity is the major sin of our time", and the attentions of a boy who invites her to choir practice in a more liberal parish.
Maria, played by Lea van Acken, is attracted to the boy, but also thinks music might help her autistic brother, who has yet to speak a word at the age of four.
Her stern and fanatical mother, played with Cruella de Vil panache by Franziska Weisz, forbids it, even if most of the music is Bach, because some of it is soul and gospel.
The confrontation between Maria, who is ostracised at her local school for her extreme religious views, and her domineering mother escalates, with devastating consequences.
Bruggemann said he and his sister Anna, who wrote the screenplay with him, were raised as Catholics and while their family was not radical, he had come to know that extreme versions existed, not just in Germany but elsewhere.
"If you go to the States all you hear is religion and preaching," Bruggemann told a news conference. "The question was what happens if ideology takes first place?"
The film follows the stations of the cross, with Maria cast in the role of a female Jesus, and for the most part the camera stays still throughout each scene, leading to long passages for the actors and actresses to play without muffing their lines.
"Nymphomaniac" follows sex-addicted Joe, played by Martin in this film and by Gainsbourg in the sequel, on an odyssey of self-discovery that explores love, death and loneliness.
Viewers are spared nothing in the erotic scenes - which play out in train toilets, in apartments, even in a hospital where her father played by Christian Bale is dying - but the overall impression is of a desperately sad emptiness.
Asked whether it was difficult acting in such a graphic film, Martin paid tribute to von Trier's qualities as director. "He is very trusting, he made the job very easy," she said.
Stellan Skarsgard, who has often worked with von Trier and in this film plays a father confessor figure to whom Joe recounts her life, echoed her comment, adding: "Lars is a very funny man."
read full article at source: http://www.torontosun.com/2014/02/09...aniac-premiere
|February 13th, 2014||#27|
[plagiarism as performance art - an actor jew tries to think]
We Went There: ‘#IAMSORRY,’ Shia LaBeouf’s Apology Performance Art Installation
WE WENT THERE
FEBRUARY 12, 2014
by MOLLY LAMBERT
In honor of Shia LaBeouf, I considered plagiarizing one of the dozens of identical blog posts about his new performance art project, #IAMSORRY, now in residence at the Cohen Gallery on Beverly Boulevard through Sunday, from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. every day. Half the people in the relatively short line for #IAMSORRY were bloggers, and the gallery is located across the street from BuzzFeed’s L.A. office. I shared sidewalk space with a blogger from The Daily Beast, and heard I had just missed The Huffington Post. All of these bloggers were presumably coming directly from the recently shut-down Dumb Starbucks in Los Feliz, a viral performance art project by Nathan Fielder of Nathan for You, which attracted a similarly media-heavy crowd over the weekend.
#IAMSORRY is a collaboration between LaBeouf, a Finnish performance artist named Nastja Säde Rönkkö, and British artist Luke Turner. Turner’s online CV says his “work investigates the operations and oscillations of art, exploring ideas of presence and excess.” Turner and LaBeouf collaborated on a “Metamodernist Manifesto” that they posted online. Here are the first three rules from the manifesto:
Shia’s oscillation at the Cohen Gallery involves a front door protected by a security guard, who waves an unimposing metal detector wand over you before letting you into the gallery space when a gallery girl knocks on the door from the inside. Visitors must enter one at a time, although what lurks inside is not as cool as James Turrell’s Perpetual Cell (currently at LACMA!). I waited in the line out front with some friends and a group of about six other people. There were some girls who seemed like they might be Shia fans, a guy in a UCB hoodie, and the aforementioned cluster of bloggers. You could recognize the other bloggers by their aura of ambivalence about the whole thing, as they have already been covering the Shia story as it has unfolded, bit by viral bit.
On the drive there I saw an ad on a Hollywood storefront for a youth production of The Wizard of Oz, with a promise that “everyone gets a part!” Child acting is one of Hollywood’s most unsettling and stalwart industries. Shirley Temple, the most famous child star of all time who also accomplished the unlikely feat of becoming a normal adult, died the day that former Disney Channel kid Shia began his performance piece at the Hollywood gallery.
I didn’t see anyone coming back out through the front door of the gallery, adding to the haunted house quality of the whole thing. Deciding I didn’t want to get murdered inside a mystery machine, I opted to scroll through posts on my smartphone by other writers who had already been inside. They all told the same story: There’s a table with objects on it; you choose one and then go behind a curtain into a smaller room where Shia sits in a chair opposite you wearing his now infamous paper-bag hat that reads “I AM NOT FAMOUS ANYMORE.” The line was pretty consistently five or six people, but dwindled down to three at one point. Shia is apparently not as popular as Dumb Starbucks.
Armed with spoiler knowledge, I waited my turn, which took about an hour. When I got inside, I saw the table and the objects others had described, which resembled a magic store in an RPG (specifically Zelda). There was a pink ukulele, a bowl of Hershey’s kisses, a Daniel Clowes book, some pliers, and a vase of flowers. There was no photography allowed. I did not see the “bowl of tweets” some had mentioned, which made me feel like I was losing a memory game. I was ushered by a young woman (Rönkkö) sitting behind the object table into the Chamber of Shiacrets.
Shia, as promised, was sitting in a chair with his Unknown Comedian paper bag mask. There were pronounced wet stains underneath the eyeholes, and his hands were on the table. I brought in a stem of daisies and laid it on the table. Then we had a staring contest for as long as I could tolerate, during which he teared up. Shia is either a big Marina Abramovic fan, or he thinks he is inventing performance art on the spot. Given that he is working with actual artists, I’m guessing it’s the former. I considered breaking the rules and taking a picture, but I felt too weird about it, which seemed like an intentional part of the piece. If Shia is now going to plagiarize famous performance art, I have a bad feeling he’s about to get really into Vito Acconci.
Shia’s foray into performance art is as annoying and obvious as Joaquin Phoenix’s, but slightly less obnoxious than James Franco’s, only because there is less of it. As a project about celebrity, authenticity, and who owns culture in the digital age, it’s pretty freshman year. As a stunt to promote Shia’s new brand as an avant-garde artist, it could be a lot worse. At best, it makes you think about what counts as art, albeit in a stonery “What does art mean, man?” way. Is blogging performance art? Is Twitter performance art? Is getting up every morning and going to bed each night performance art? Shia’s tears are crocodile tears, the tears of a child actor whose first trick was learning to cry on cue. As an audition, it’s impressive. As a work of art for the ages, it has nothing on Ghost World or Ice Haven.