Un Canadien Errant

After the last time I went to the cinema my latest visit also included another first. The cinema was completely full. I had some time to kill this weekend before heading back to Wolv'. So I walked into the National FilmTheatre expecting to find what has always happened in the past. Either nothing of real interest or timings incongrous to my plans. But not this time! In fact I was so delighted by what I saw I ended up missing the train home. First up was 'Tristana' of Luis Bunuel fame which was pretty damn fine! There was a sharp intake of breath when the first French words were uttered. O no! No subtitles! But duly enough they arrived and a sigh of relief was taken by all of us that had studied German instead. Was ist los? It's always odd when the subtitler perceives the actual meaning to be meaningless enough to not subtitle them or obviously clear enough from the facial expression or some other give away like the use of a commonly understood word in that language such as 'Oui'. You're so used to being spoonfed the information. Sometimes it acts as a good kick to pay attention to what the actors are saying as well. Many'a physical joke or inflection has been missed, I feel, by the flashing text.

Anyway on to the real reason I missed my train. The music documentary to begin them, to bring them all together and in a panic set fire to them or however that bloody film went. Yes, I am of course talking about the brilliant 'Dont Look Back' (spelt without the apostrophe). Pennebaker's documentary about Dylan's first English tour (no Scottish or Welsh tour, those were the days) since becoming famous. Selling out venues like the Royal Albert Hall and generally meeting the great and good of the English rock scene of the mid 60's notable exceptions missing from the credits including Marriannne Faithful and John Mayall. Anyway, the first thing that strikes you is how weird it is to see Dylan in England, the film just seems so British, full of the nasty upperclass papermen and promoters in it for the money. At times he is like a shinning light through the crassness which is the English pomposity present in such unbound amounts. At other points he seems like the classic arrogant American abroad. Great moments include seeing Dylan eyeing up a fine selection of electric guitars through a shop window. The guitars featured are great indeed, all seemingly priced at £25. Wonder how much that is in today's terms. The tour was wholely acoustic. Dylan had apparently already recorded 'Bringing It All Back Home' so this takes some of the impact out of this event. In all a great film.

The image is of a guy named Masato. Japanese. Taken at the same party as the image shown as part of the Character 1 post. I like this image as it is blatantly not the guy that I knew. In flesh he was very quiet and unassuming. He was playing the guitar for us. Some Japanese pop songs as far as I could make out from the feel of them. Here he is converted to some shadey nightclub owner or general tough guy in the shadows. Again the eyes have it. The colours all work really well together and could be part of a comic very easily.