Slight Return
Sorry for the unannounced gap in Parallax View transmission this past week. Sad to report there's no great drama or worthy gossip behind my blogging abstinence, just an unforeseen combination of supping beer; watching games; a visit to a police station (no worries, it was to pick up some lost property); watching a couple of DVDs; a late-night curry; a haircut, and latterly, some computer maintenance problems and a chest infection. My week in a nutshell, then: try to simmer down that jealousy now.
Things should return to normal(ish) as of next week, where I'll be trying to catch up on last week's gossip/links while trying to keep up with next week's developments simultaneously. There'll also be a few film reviews, and the concluding bumper edition of Mason and Dixon Watch as I finally finished the 700plus page epic this weekend.
Just a few quick links to keep you going until then: firstly, the sad news that film star Ingrid Thulin has died aged 76. Thulin is perhaps best known for her work for legendary Swedish director Ingmar Bergman but for me, her most striking role was in The Damned (1969) that superior Nazi soap opera from Luchino Visconti. The Guardian's Derek Malcolm gives her a considered and detailed obit here.
Plus, I've heard some outrageous gossip through spurious google searches over the past few years but - Julian Casablancas pregnant?!! I know The Strokes lead singer's carrying a bit of excess lately, but that's too cruel. And remember, pop kids, having your arse kissed by the NME each week for two years does not lead to conception.
Meanwhile, Jennifer Connelly is to star in a Hollywood remake of the acclaimed Japanese horror film Dark Water; childish not-safe-for-work fun can be found at the Peaches soundboard; and Chloe Sevigny has been dropped by the William Morris agency for her oral sex scene in 'art house abomination' The Brown Bunny.
On this last story: stupid William Morris agency - Chloe's career has been going nowheresville since Boys Don't Cry, starring in Macauley Culkin movies for fuck's sakes, until she got her chops around her co-star's cock, raising, um, unprecedented column inches which would have any self-respecting talent agency gagging with pleasure. Besides, critics are hurriedly re-evaluating the re-edited Brown Bunny as they're finally tuning into director/star Vincent Gallo's humour. And while one swallow doesn't make for a summer blockbuster, Sevigny could have the last laugh this time next year when she could be within spitting distance of getting Best Actress In A, Um, Supporting Role at next year's Academy Awards.
Finally, for this afternoon, East Sussex's Keane are top of a writers' poll for act most likely to breakthrough in 2004 nudging out Parallax View's tip Franz Ferdinand. I think I heard a Keane track once, but it didn't make much of an impression. I'm a little sceptical as well about a band, who, one record in, describe their own music as 'stadium rock' and have a singer called Tim Rice-Oxley whose vocals are compared to 'skyscrapers'. This year's Coldplay or 2004's Geneva? I guess we'll soon find out, as well as how Keane (named after the truculent and tough-tackling Manchester United midfielder) will react on not travelling business class on their first US tour, or playing to prawn sandwich eaters at this summer's Glastonbury Festival.
Sorry for the unannounced gap in Parallax View transmission this past week. Sad to report there's no great drama or worthy gossip behind my blogging abstinence, just an unforeseen combination of supping beer; watching games; a visit to a police station (no worries, it was to pick up some lost property); watching a couple of DVDs; a late-night curry; a haircut, and latterly, some computer maintenance problems and a chest infection. My week in a nutshell, then: try to simmer down that jealousy now.
Things should return to normal(ish) as of next week, where I'll be trying to catch up on last week's gossip/links while trying to keep up with next week's developments simultaneously. There'll also be a few film reviews, and the concluding bumper edition of Mason and Dixon Watch as I finally finished the 700plus page epic this weekend.
Just a few quick links to keep you going until then: firstly, the sad news that film star Ingrid Thulin has died aged 76. Thulin is perhaps best known for her work for legendary Swedish director Ingmar Bergman but for me, her most striking role was in The Damned (1969) that superior Nazi soap opera from Luchino Visconti. The Guardian's Derek Malcolm gives her a considered and detailed obit here.
Plus, I've heard some outrageous gossip through spurious google searches over the past few years but - Julian Casablancas pregnant?!! I know The Strokes lead singer's carrying a bit of excess lately, but that's too cruel. And remember, pop kids, having your arse kissed by the NME each week for two years does not lead to conception.
Meanwhile, Jennifer Connelly is to star in a Hollywood remake of the acclaimed Japanese horror film Dark Water; childish not-safe-for-work fun can be found at the Peaches soundboard; and Chloe Sevigny has been dropped by the William Morris agency for her oral sex scene in 'art house abomination' The Brown Bunny.
On this last story: stupid William Morris agency - Chloe's career has been going nowheresville since Boys Don't Cry, starring in Macauley Culkin movies for fuck's sakes, until she got her chops around her co-star's cock, raising, um, unprecedented column inches which would have any self-respecting talent agency gagging with pleasure. Besides, critics are hurriedly re-evaluating the re-edited Brown Bunny as they're finally tuning into director/star Vincent Gallo's humour. And while one swallow doesn't make for a summer blockbuster, Sevigny could have the last laugh this time next year when she could be within spitting distance of getting Best Actress In A, Um, Supporting Role at next year's Academy Awards.
Finally, for this afternoon, East Sussex's Keane are top of a writers' poll for act most likely to breakthrough in 2004 nudging out Parallax View's tip Franz Ferdinand. I think I heard a Keane track once, but it didn't make much of an impression. I'm a little sceptical as well about a band, who, one record in, describe their own music as 'stadium rock' and have a singer called Tim Rice-Oxley whose vocals are compared to 'skyscrapers'. This year's Coldplay or 2004's Geneva? I guess we'll soon find out, as well as how Keane (named after the truculent and tough-tackling Manchester United midfielder) will react on not travelling business class on their first US tour, or playing to prawn sandwich eaters at this summer's Glastonbury Festival.
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