CAPTAIN HOOKED/DOG PIE (PART 3)

ON A HILL ON ROBBER ISLAND: Captain Hooked and his crew, and Peter Pan's dog (I really need to think of a name for him), climb to the summit to get a better view. Hooked has forced the dog to reveal that Peter Pan is hiding out with the robbers.


Up til now we haven't seen the robbers. Can it be that Robber Island contains no robbers?


CAPTAIN HOOKED: (WHEEZING AND PANTING): "This'll do! You can see the whole island from here!"





CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Whew! It's a good thing I brought this bottled water! Oooooohh! That's good! Yeah...oooooh yeah, that hits the spot!"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "The mark of a good water is its mineral content. Just the right amount of feldspar, with a tad of sedimentary limestone and a hint of lotus leaf."





CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Careful, careful! We don't want to waste precious resources."





CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Wait a minute! What's THAT!!!!!????"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Gasp! It's some hideous jungle thing, and it's probably sucking my blood right now!!!!"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "HURRY! GET IT OFF!!! Please, please! I beg you! I can feel the blood draining out of my body now!!!!!!!!!!!!!"





The dog examines the "jungle thing" and discovers that it's a lady bug. He gently plucks it off.














CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Gasp! You saved my life! How can I ever repay you!?"





CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Wait! Water! The gift of life!"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Here, you take it! Don't worry about me! I've had a full life! Go ahead and drink it all, and don't look back!!! Take it, I say!!!!!"











Tries to sip up the water...but it's completely empty. Hooked drank it all.








CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Now where's that twerp, Pan?"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "I don't see anything, just trees and sand! I don't even see any robbers!"



CONTINUED BELOW.....


Still photos and captions (above and below) copyright Eddie Fitzgerald, 8/15/2008.
Color film (below) copyright Jim Arnold, 8/13/2008.

CAPTAIN HOOKED/DOG PIE (PART 4) (Eddie & Jim)

ON ROBBER ISLAND: Peter Pan's dog is a prisoner of Captain Hooked, and has convinced the pirate that Pan is living with the robbers. Hooked scans the landscape with his spyglass but sees nothing.


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "I have to tell ya, I don't see Pan, and I don't see any robbers."








CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Why would there be any robbers here, anyway?"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "I'm the only person they ever steal from, and I don't live around here."


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Now Mermaid Island, that's the place for a robber."


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "The mermaids have all that stupid fan merchandise of Peter Pan."


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Imagine buying that stuff?"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "You'd have to be so...Mmmph (His false teeth are removed in mid-speech)!"
































Robbers restore his false teeth, hat, etc.





CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Well, I don't see any robbers. This is a deserted island. You brought me to a deserted island!"


CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Haw Haw! I guess the joke was on me! You sure put one over on the old Captain!"

CAPTAIN HOOKED: "That's alright! A little DOG PIE tonight, and I'll feel OK again!"

CAPTAIN HOOKED: "Wha?....What's wrong?"

END CREDITS: I did the black and white photo story and genius filmmaker Jim Arnold did the color film of the robbers!

THE BEST WAY TO MAKE SPAGHETTI

Hmmmm. That photo (above) doesn't seem to fit here. I was trying to look like Julia Childs, but I think I ended up being Jerry Lewis in drag. Oh, well....

Anyway, to get to the subject at hand: I don't know much about spaghetti, so I thought I'd educate myself by watching some YouTube videos on the subject. Big mistake! It's pretty clear that most people on YouTube don't know how to make this dish. Not that I do.



Take the one above for example. Can you believe this woman? In the first minute of the video (I don't recommend watching more than that) she shows us the ingredients and they're all cans! She lovingly describes her can opener which no doubt has high-tech carbon fiber and titanium handles and hangs from a silver chain. Almost all the YouTube spaghetti recipes are like that! People love their canned goods! One guy ecstatically kissed his finger tips and said "Bellissimo" every time he opened a new can.  The only top-notch chef I saw seemed bored with the subject.

*Sigh!* I guess the people who know what they're doing just aren't interested in low-rent dishes like spaghetti. Anyway, I thought I'd put up a couple of the least offensive videos, just so you get a feeling for what the thinking is on this subject.

To save time I eliminated from consideration all recipes by old-world Italians. Spaghetti might have begun in Italy but it was perfected by Italian Americans, who alone know to how to make it right.  And I learned not to trust grandmothers...they work out of cans, just like everyone else. I also eliminated recipes by caterers. They make the dish the cheapest way possible. They're into volume, not quality.  Lastly, I eliminated all diet recipes. I eat dietetic foods most of the time, but when I take the time to cook something really special I want maximum flavor, even if I keel over dead afterwards.

So, after eliminating the can people, the cheapskate caterers and the diet fanatics, who's left? Well, there's a couple (below). Neither is perfect, but they're the best I could find. See what you think.



Boy, does this guy pour on the wine! He pours in a bunch, then uses it liberally to clean out 3 tomato cans (emptying the wine-soaked residues into the pan), then takes a woeful look at the pan and adds most of the rest of the bottle. His family seemed to like the result, though they were probably crocked.  Even so, he seems to have made a decent canned spaghetti, and has an appealing personality.

One of his commenters suggested adding veal, which sounds right.



This recipe (above) is made by a restaurant owner who appears to do it right. I had to deduct points, though, because he doesn't discuss the sauce. He's Italian American, and they like to keep their sauce recipes secret.

Like most IAs he disdains soupy anglo meat sauces and prefers to keep the sauce and meat seperate. In other words, he prefers "spaghetti and meatballs." The meatball meat is usually made with additions like milk, bell peppers, breadcrumbs and eggs.

That's all I have to say for now. Take a look at the olive and anchove recipe submitted by Buzz in the comments, Jorge's Marty Scorcese recipe, and the bizarre "Milton Glaser" recipe submitted by Hans Flagon. Was Glaser serious about that?

SECRETS OF "THE NUTCRACKER"

Here's three clips (above and below) of the Baryshnikov/American Ballet Theater version of "The Nutcracker." Together they add up to about 22 minutes, an eternity if you don't like ballet, and a frustratingly short time if you do. I do like it, particularly this version. It's so full of ideas!

For me this is a partly a story of initation into aristocratic secrets and values, and in that it sense it resembles Mozart's "Magic Flute". Of course in Magic Flute the theme was pretty much spelled out, and here it's only hinted at. I don't offer much evidence for this, I just talk about the way sequences make me feel, so I won't be surprised if some people disagree. That's okay. Part of the fun of art is the arguments you have after seeing it.

So let's get on with it. Here's what I'm seeing when I watch this ballet....

The opening narration introduces us to an overview of the Christmas party and the visit of Uncle Drosselmeyer, a mysterious bussinessman/scientist/wizard. Drosselmeyer distributes gifts to the children then: "Finally the surprise gift, the Nutcracker doll that Drosselmeyer creates for his favorite grandchild, Clara. With this gift Clara will enter an enchanted world where her beloved toy is transformed into a beautiful prince. Tonight is a special night for Clara. She's about to receive the gift of a dream."




The dance music at the party is charming and beautiful but is always threatening to transform into something serious and overwhelming, and constantly has to be roped back. You get the feeling that Tchaikovsky wants us to be aware of titanic forces that underlie the events of ordinary life, or maybe the mysterious nature of music itself, which always seems to demand an escalation of seriousness with every repeated phrase.

This is especially evident in the line dance which threatens to overwhelm us with power, but which is restrained by the composer from doing so. Even the incredibly cute dance of the boy soldiers threatens to get big and serious as it goes on, with one boy taking command and deftly brandishing a swinging saber.

Drosselmeyer enters and interrupts all this to test Clara by dancing with her to see if she's still in possession of the aristocratic virtues he prizes, those of self-discipline, charm, intelligence, idealism and earnestness. She is.



Satisfied that Clara, and to some extent the other kids, have passed the test and are ready for what comes next, Drosselmeyer presents his gifts. Among them are three mysterious and vaguely menacing wind-up dolls. The first is a harlequin, which executes a fun dance, but which knows nothing else of the world but fun. The second one is a dumb and awkward ballerina. She seems more human than the harlequin and is a disturbing reminder of the sluggish automaton in each of us that threatens to overwhelm our better selves. The third doll is the wild card, the exotic randomizer...the amoral barbarian with boundless energy for both good and evil.

With these dolls Drosselmeyer introduces the kids and us to the three hidden forces in the world, the three things everybody in the know will have to deal with in life.

Well, that's it...the secret message embedded in The Nutcracker. I wish I could have included a clip showing Baryshnikov as the nutcracker, and his amazing transformation into wakefulness and life. It would also have been nice to see his fight with the Mouse King, too. Oh, well. YouTube didn't have it, and the other video versions of this sequence weren't very good, so there's no use putting them here. I put up a charming video clip showing kids rehearsing for a kid version of The Nutcracker but that clip and another one vanished after I put them up. That's because I'm using a new beta version of Blogger, and it's still buggy.

"THE CHRISTMAS CAROL": TWO VERSIONS

I got an interesting Christmas present in my stocking this year: The 1935 Seymour Hicks version of Dickens' "Christmas Carol." What a treat! It's not a good film, and Hicks is a terrible Scrooge,  but seeing what this film did wrong made me realize what the 1951 Alister Sims version did right, so I was glad to have gotten it. If you're curious to see what I'm talking about, then read on.

For me the fascinating thing about the Hicks version (called "Scrooge") is that the mistakes it makes are ones I might have made myself if I'd directed it. It's like seeing someone fall down a manhole when they stepped into the very place I was going to step.  But those mistakes aren't evident at the start. The film begins just fine with grand and ominous music which turns into "Hark the Herald Angels Sing." Well, you can't argue with that. So far, so good.

Then we establish old London with a shot of the rooftops at night. No narration. The grand orchestral version of "Hark" is replaced with a cheesier version done by street musicians, and that motivates a pan down to Scrooge's office. A natural sequence of events you say but...uhoh...I'm already feeling antsy. Something's gone amiss. But what? The move seems logical enough.

Inside Scrooge's office we slowly dolly up to his back. The filmmaker wants to tease us with a back shot that doesn't reveal yet...a standard trick...but it's not working! Geez, I'm getting itchy, just thinking about it. Something is terribly wrong!

The camera slowly swings around and shows us Cratchit at his desk, struggling to keep warm. In the minutes that follow he tries to sneak some coal into the stove and Scrooge finally turns and yells at him. Once again we have what seems like a natural sequence of events...so why is it so screamingly wrong!?

I could go on like this, but instead I'll ask a question: the filmmaker obviously believes the relationship between Scrooge and Cratchit is the central conflict in the film. Do you agree?

And another quetion: Seymour Hicks serves up a Scrooge who's an elderly, one-dimensional miser. Is that really what Dickens had in mind? [Jenny Lerew makes an interesting answer in the comments to the previous post.]

I infinitely prefer the 1951 Alister Sims version, which in America is known as "The Christmas Carol." It begins with a page from Dickens' book (above) and this time there's a narrator. He says, "Old Marley was dead as a doornail. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing meaningful can come of the story I'm going to relate."

That's a marvelously playful beginning! The beautiful words inform us that this is a story which will be constructed with bricks of virtuoso dialogue and showmanship. The Hicks film attempted to make a conventional drama out of the story. Big mistake! Christmas Carol is a drama alright, but it's also a performance piece, a platform for unforgetable images and wit, a poetic edifice, a vehicle for word music. it's more than drama. All my favorite stories are like that, including cartoon stories.

Inside the stock exchange (above0 Scrooge walks up to camera as the narrator explains that "The register of Marley's burial was signed by Scrooge, and Scrooge's name was good on the Exchange for anything he chose to put his hand to." That's a beautiful sentence, isn't it? Anyway, he's stopped by two business men who inquire if he's leaving early because it's Christmas Eve. Scrooge responds with wonderful "humbug"-type dialogue and storms out.

I like the idea of beginning the story in a social setting, and especially one as formal and institutional as the stock exchange. The setting makes fills us with wonder that mankind can organize itself to accomplish great things, and yet still be moved to celebrate deeply sentimental holidays like Christmas.

The scene also introduces us to Scrooge, who far from being a rigid old miser, is a witty warrior ready to do battle with the sea of idiots he believes surround him. And I like the fact that Sims is a young man playing an old man. The role demands an actor who can plausibly seem to possess boundless energy if only he'd remove the obstacles that confine it.

Outside (above), Scrooge is acousted by a guy who begs more time to pay his debts. If Scrooge won't give him an extention he and his wife will have to go to debtor's prison.  The back and forth is so skillfully and musically done, and Scrooge's "humbug" dialogue is so funny, that the scene is easily elevated into a set piece. Arguably the scene inside the exchange was a near set piece, too. Dickens loves his set pieces. The film has barely started and we've already had two...but hold your hat! Another one is on the way, the best one in the whole film.

I refer of course to the one where the two public-spirited men hit up Scrooge for a donation for the poor. It's the most memorable thing in the film. Don't ever let anybody tell you that best scenes should be saved for the later part of a story. Set-ups are almost always the most important part of a story, and best scenes are used to greatest advantage there.

There's more to say, but I guess that's all there's room for. Soon I'll put up the Theory Corner Store where I'll sell pamphlets covering subjects like this in more detail than I'm able to do here.  The price will be low enough that you'll be to afford it even if you're living in a cardboard box, and have to read with a flashlight.

BTW: My friend Byron Vaughns is selling off part his comic collection. He tells me he's parting with his vintage HAHA and GIGGLE comics, some for as low as 5 bucks. I haven't seen them, but these titles are highly regarded by animation artists. Check out the list on his site:

http://www.byronvaughns.com/comic_book_sales.html