Criccipes - Chestnut Risotto

My parents are out of town for ten days. The house is my kingdom. The kitchen is my playground.

I usually have fun opening the fridge, seeing what's inside and making something up with it. Today I was inspired a warm and cuddly dish by this particularly precious weather.

Thus I give you THE CHESTNUT RISOTTO.

I made it for a party of me, myself and I so I used little quantities. I got a pretty good amount of food out of them though, maybe a tad too much for just one person. I ate it all but to be honest I have a big welcoming tummy. Draw your conclusions.

INGREDIENTS

150 gr. of chestnuts

100 gr. of rice

1 scallion

stock

butter

grated Parmesan cheese

Boil whole chestnuts in salted water for 10 minutes.

Get the engines started on broth. I had leftovers of some my mom made before leaving but if you don't, just get more boiling water and add a stock cube to it. You don't need much, just about three cups.

Drain the chestnuts and let them cool off for about 15 minutes. Open and crumble them into small pieces to your likings. I kept them fairly big because I wanted to feel them crunch under my teeth.

Put a thin slice of butter in a casserole, let it melt and pour one minced scallion in it. When it looks golden add rice to the mix.

When the rice is toasted chip in some wine and let it evaporate while stirring. Once the wine is out of the picture start pouring stock, one dipper at a time, and go on stirring until it dries out. Repeat with a little more stock. Sing something to yourself so the process feels less boring.

While the first dipper of stock starts boiling with the rice add your crumbled chestnuts and blend the whole lot.

Keep adding stock and stirring until the rice seems done (about 15 minutes). Maybe vary the songs you sing to yourself.

Turn fire off, add a slice of butter and grated Parmesan cheese as you desire and stir one final time.

Now you're ready to yum yum.

Buon appetito!

Rome Film Festival Diary - Monday

Monday was the day I saw The Social Network, and the actor in it. It was also the day I saw Rabbit Hole, and the actor in it. That’s as close to Hollywood as it gets.

First off The Social Network was the only foreign movie in the entire Festival that was shown in Italian. Damn you. I waited months to see this you fools. I abhor you.

As you all know I’m Italian, and not one of my parents or relatives are English speaking, so why do I care? I’ve always cared. I started learning English at the age of 12. Pretty late for being bilingual if you think about it. It was a choice, I wasn’t blessed with it. I did it for the movies, I did it because I never wanted to depend on the loathed dubbers anymore. And I busted my ass. Although it came pretty easy to me it definitely was an effort. I would go to class at night after school and work on writing, vocabulary and speaking, then I would come back home, rent a VHS (yes, a VHS) from Blockbuster (when it was still in business), set subtitles and go for the ride. Subs progressively came off and I could pick up more and more. Movie after movie I got to where I am.

Right now I watch movies in Italian in just three cases: it’s Italian movies, it’s freaking CGI explosion based Avatary movies that have to be watched in a theatre, someone puts a gun to my head.

That said, and after all these years of hard work, I sit down in the fucking cinema at the fucking Festival that shows pictures in their original languages and you just cannot present me with The Social Network in Italian. My Cambridge degrees will come after you!

I already wrote a review of the film on my Italian blog so I won’t go into the details but I will say that Jesse Eisenberg ensnared me in a creepers cage where I would wear an animal skin skirt and he would bang is chest and do whatever he pleased with me. He was that good. So good in fact I was first row at the press conference and ended up going to every junket he did that afternoon (I was free till 6.30 pm, that’s my official excuse).

He’s a charming little man and it seemed to me he has different colored eyes, don’t you think? … Ok well, that’s irrelevant. He knows how to own a room and gave the most engaging press conference of the entire event. Questions notwithstanding. Gosh, what boring questions.

Does he have a facebook page? No, because he doesn’t want to fuel online gossiping about himself.

Did Fincher make him shoot a lot of takes? Yes, 99 takes in the first scene, which he liked doing. It gave him 50 times to do it emotionally detached and 49 times to do it much more engaged and personable, thus he was able to create many different parts of the character.

Was it cold with the flip flops in the snow? Tons.

Has Mark Zuckerberg seen the film? Yes, he booked an entire theatre on opening day for all of his employees at facebook and one of them is Jesse’s cousin so Mark had the cousin send Jesse a text saying “good job”.

That’s what they had him go on about all day. All day. The Fincher story I saw him tell at least four times.

As far as I’m concerned he may not have completed College yet but he sure as hell seems educated and composed. He approaches the profession very seriously. He showed to be thoughtful about society and its issues, his take on facebook is that it allows quiet people to be very loud. And loud people like me to be even louder I would add. I’ll gladly stay in the cage with you Mr. Eisenberg.

      

This is a little video I made. Quite not legit so please keep it to yourselves! The guy is very down to earth, funny and cute. Giving homage with a 55 second silent stint where he does nothing but shines through.

Moving forward, Rabbit Hole is a quiet movie, very deep, great performances but all in all slow, slow, slow. I saw it for free and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Aaron Eckhart met with us, he’s a very quiet person, very deep, great performer but all in all he talks slow, slow, slowly. He looks like a thoughtful monkey, cute but mysterious. I will forever remember him like this.

Creepy profound eerie stare!

One thing he said made my day. He was talking about the actor’s craft and he suddenly dropped his name. I realized I’d never before been in front of a person who actually knew him. There and then I was one degree of separation from Heath Ledger, the undoubtedly best performer of my generation, my inspiration, my love.

I quote Mr. Eckhart and I won’t say anything else, because there really is no need.

The actors that I admire would do anything at any time and in any place, that’s where I want to be. Like when I was working with Heath in Batman he did what I was afraid to do, he did what I want to do and I do do sometimes, but I didn’t a lot on that movie, which was: he was completely and utterly free. That’s what an actor does, and I looked at Heath and I was just going: that’s where I could go. I just tried to go to Heath’s level. Heath surprised us in that movie and so he achieved something that very few actors ever achieved.

Last highlight of the day was The People VS George Lucas documentary, which I had been anticipating. I grew up watching Star Wars although I was never obsessed with it, then when I’m five my brother is born and he eventually fills the household with Jedi fever.

Before the screening I still had a few spare minutes, around 45, so I sneaked in a theatre where they were showing The Promise: The Making of Darkness on the Edge of Town, a Springsteen documentary; I found myself a secluded seat in the darkness on the edge of the room and I slept through it. Sorry Bruce.

Recharged and curious it was finally time for George Lucas. The film was cute, the director was there. Nerd-o-meter jumped to the roof.

From computer to sci-fi geeks, a lot of action and compelling performances this was probably the best day of the entire Festival for me. At 8 pm, after 13 hours on the premises, I embarked on my journey back home. My body is on the underground train, my mind still in the cripples cage. Work it.

Rome Film Festival Diary - Sunday

Sunday like it’s a working day. Interesting. Early rise, but this time car drive instead of metro ride to the Auditorium, makes it feel less worky-ish already. I was in for a movie called Let me in. I found out while lining outside the theater, five minutes before the screening, that it was a horror. I gasped. Looked around for some sign that would suggest me the way. Switch to another movie? Get in?

I’m not too fond of horror movies and here’s why. There’s two categories for these type of films:

First. Very splattery and mostly aiming at you getting sick to your stomach, with blood geysers, black vomits siphoned around the screen and whatnot. Not that much horrific, just stupid, I mean what am I watching? Don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite directors is Quentin Tarantino, I got nothing against blood fountains, it just depends of what use you make of them. I once was so stupid as to agree to watch Silent Hill. Oh come on… The possessed nurses from a Lady Gaga video are supposed to be scary? The men without the heads, the big walking turkeys? What do I make of them? And don’t get me started on The Final Destination 3D. What was that even supposed to be? This guy’s interiors are splattered all over your third dimensional aura and pieces of a vehicle fly over your head, along with knives, nails, drills, snakes and shattered glasses. What is this, Disneyland? What am I, four? How in the world do adult people believe that that could be remotely scary for other adults? I won’t even go into the Saw franchise cause I’ve never seen one of those abominations and nor I plan to, ever.

Second. Dark and eerie, this type of movies plan to have you worried about the littlest swish in the room. They would like to mess with your head, but most of the times just fail miserably as even my couch can predict what’s behind that door, or around that next corner. The only good examples I have for this category are The Blair Witch Project, which I watched when I was 14 and in full hormonal swirl, and Scream, which was still predictable but nicely, ironically done. Other than that we face a full blown dullness. The Ring. What was scary about that? The dirty hair maybe. Should I be worried to answer my phone after I watch it? Yeah right.

Either way the point is these movies are not scary. They are either disgusting, in the first case, or boring, in the second.

I find a lot more adrenaline, and do get scared exponentially more (I’m really just a big chicken shit after all) by thriller movies. More so if they have a spiritual side to them. Let’s try with The Sixth Sense. Not much of an advertised scare but it slowly builds on you; sometimes even after all these years when I wake up in the middle of the night to go pee I’m afraid I’ll meet the dead lady playing with the thermostat in the hallway. Here’s another thing, I bought this cool App from iTunes that records any noise that occurs while you sleep. I have a teeth condition that I want to keep an ear on, also I’ve been told I talk a lot in my sleep and no one ever volunteered to tape me, so I decided I was going to do it myself. Anyhow, I bought the App something along the lines of 10 days ago and I have yet to use it because I’m afraid during the night it’ll pick up noises that I don’t want to ever know were whooshed in my room, like spirits talking, like in the movie.

I say if a story sticks with you for so many years and has you still a little conscious about stuff, than that was a scary story, nothing less.

Well the film I saw Sunday mostly belonged to the first category, kind of sugarcoated though, I mean just the right amount of blood was in it. It tells the story of a teenage girl vampire (not heavily made-up, greatly coiffed, super fit and sparkly) that develops a deep friendship with a troubled kid her same age. It wasn’t scary, not at all, but it was an interesting tale of friendship. Yes, the horror side of the film didn’t impress me, the relationship side did. It comes from Cloverfield’s director and it’s ok to pass a couple hours.

Which is exactly what I did. After that I was out to a bunch of press stuff. First Matt Reeves conferenced about making the movie, and being best friends with J.J. Abrams. I hate you am so happy for you.

Then walking around the Festival I saw Valeria was doing an interview show, so I went in, and ended up staying there for more than an hour.

Finally two well regarded Italian actors, Margherita Buy and Silvio Orlando, were doing a joint symposium to discuss their careers. I was curious about what they had to say, but they actually said close to nothing, except how lovely it was to work with one another. Cut the crap, I’m going home.

Acting it out

It’s the first lesson of a brand new year of acting class.

I do act on the side.

This will be my fourth year going steady. I’m switching to a new instructor, actor extraordinaire and affirmed film dubber (although I hate dubbed movies for the life of me I appreciate the hard work there is behind it and I ADORE his voice [he was Marshall Flinkman in ALIAS, I’ve said it all]) Franco regards groundbreaking theories on the lines of Stanislavskij and focuses his interest on energy, deriving muscular tension and movements. Very fascinating, not to mention life changing approach to Acting, capital “a”, for those in love with the stages of the world, like myself. I’m talking cutting edge stuff that would make Bob DeNiro pee in his pants. And my parents know nothing about it.

They do know I go. But that’s it. Earlier as I got back I hoped once again, to be once again disappointed, that they would be waiting to ask how it went, that they’d be interested. Not a word. I should be used to this by now but I’m actually not.

My parents love me and I love them, and they’ve never had me lack for anything. Except this one little thing. I blame it on their upbringing. We are said to breath our parents in. Theirs were not very good at expressing feelings, also let’s say not the most participative human beings, thus so are mine. It was right after the war when they were growing up and people back then had massive stuff to care for before even thinking of asking their children about their thoughts. But times have changed, we now have that luxury. What makes them not see that? It’s just habits I guess, worse yet character traits, are hard to lose. They probably are a little too conceited in their own bad days, or making plans for the upcoming ones, or just winding down after whatever amount of social activity they can endure, hence what happens around them sometimes fails to ring in. They don’t understand how important it is that they don’t just show me the money, supporting me financially in this endeavor, or in any of my other ones for that matter, but that they also do show me the interest.

Do we ever stop needing our parents’ approval?

It’s frustrating because I recognize a little of that in me too sometimes and I want to eradicate it with all my might. When I have kids I’d rather have some dirtier dishes or one more untaken-care-of crappy mood, but make sure I ask them how their day was every damn time they get back through the front door.

It’s sad because when I win my brush in front of the mirror I never mention them in my thank you speeches for being supportive, I thank them for being enablers. When I wrote my dissertation’s dedication I thanked them for the possibilities they offer me, not for their encouragement.

I feel so much accomplished right at this moment in history, but every time I get back home and my mama doesn’t show that she cares, and she is proud, a little bit of my triumphs are taken away from me.

Admit one

I understand off-side.

Rome Film Festival Diary - Saturday

I had no intention of waking up today, not at least in the spam of one-digit hours. The party for La scuola è finita went on till 3 am and that meant I had been up and running for 21 hours straight.

Just got too much of a glamorous packed day under my belt so with the new morning (afternoon really) I opted for a strictly-film streak. I started at 4 pm with The Freebie and 6 hours later I was sitting at my fourth consecutive screening. Two of them were also premieres, with cast and director attending: Made in Dagenham and Oranges and Sunshine. So I got my little share of razzle-dazzle out of it as well. The last one was an Iranian movie called Dog Sweat.

By the time the clocked ticked midnight I was out of the theatres and a little confused. That had never happened to me, but I was now roaming the dark, empty parking lot mashing up storylines from the different films, like I very much believed that that was the actual very bulky plot I had just seen. So all of a sudden a couple from Teheran decided to sleep with other people while she went on strike from a car factory and children were deported from England to Australia.

Maybe someone should look into this scenario. Just throwing it out there. Consider it a gift from me. And my deranged mind.

Possibly to blame is the fact that I ran this marathon solo. All alone.

I'm not sure about how I feel on going to the cinema by oneself. That has never happened to me outside of press screenings either now at the festival or before during year round previews. Is it somewhat nerdy? Or rather sad? Regular paying-moviegoer cinema I mean. I would think if you do that, it means you have no friends... But then again do you really need other people to enjoy a film? It's not like you can talk through it anyway...

I am personally becoming accustomed to it and I kind of actually like it. I am a solitary beast after all. I very much prefer shopping by myself for example. I feel free when I’m alone. The kind of freedom I only otherwise experience when I skip around the house naked. I would spend my birthday shopping alone, and have the time of my life. Maybe it’s fair I add going to the cinema on my own to the list of favorite fantasy birthday activities. And who knows, one day I might really do it to celebrate.

One thing is sure. I will never be satisfied with just one movie per night ever again. That splendid feeling you get when you come out of a screening and you know you will be immersing yourself in another totally different brand new world in just a while is extremely lushious. Like a big fat righteous asset you get because you’re too cool for no reason. Intoxicating!

The only downside, and this I did miss that night, is being able to discuss what you think about the movie right on the spot when it finishes, when you’re still permeated by its spell. That is most likely why journalists write reviews in the first place. Because they watch the films on their own and afterwards they need an outlet to unleash their thoughts on them. That’s my very poetic view on the matter for tonight (of course in the real world journalists get to know each other preview after preview as there’s always the same people in attendance, and thus the magic of this idea bursts)…

Chasing this train of thoughts though I had the insane idea of revamping my old review blog and starting writing Rome Film Festival pieces on it. It took me a whole day and I’m already behind on so much stuff but I am an instinct follower, what can I say. It’s in Italian and you may speak it or you may be happy to learn it through your reading, regardless, that’s where you’ll find my movie related opinions.

http://cricci-venividiscripsi.blogspot.com

I carved myself the outlet I needed, so when I do go watch a movie alone on by birthday there’s where I’ll be rambling from.

Rome Film Festival Diary - Friday

It was a busy pumpkin in Cricci Land.

Second day at the Festival started at a time which is not represented on my watch, namely 6.30. Usual hour underground ride to get there and 9 o’clock screening of John Landis’ new movie: Burke & Hare. Nothing & Special. The man himself was also there to share some of his undoubtedly fine but equally uptight sense of humor with us mortals. He was somewhat patronizing with the translator and his phone even rang during the conference. It was me calling to ask for a job. No. It was someone who got the wrong number. Swear to God. Imagine that, you dial your mom to make sure you got the right grocery list and you get a freaking Hollywood director. Still it was very unprofessional to keep the thing turned on, although he did mention he was out of it due to jet lag mayhem. He was also very crafty at making it look funny, as it was indeed kind of a smirky-ish situation. Plus he’s John Landis for Eddie Murphy’s sake, you can’t just go and overlook that. That’s to say that I’m largely still wondering if the episode, or the interview in its entirety, bothered me or not. Big questions in life.

John Landis talking to us, not the phone, on the left. John Landis taking picture of us like animals in a zoo on the right.

Day turned to night and it was time for the big “La scuola è finita” premiere. I got to meet with everybody from the crew after a year and a half and that would have been just about good enough. But the director had other plans and called the producer on the phone bequeathing him the pleasure of telling us to meet him at the top of the red carpet, because we were walking it down with the cast as a follow up to the previous day protest. Say what?! I wasn't prepared at all. When has the moment I was ever the least prepared for a red carpet been? That was precisely it!

But you know it’s a tough job and someone’s gotta do it. So we all unveiled our secret weapons and our biggest smiles and we started marching.

It was pretty fun. Nerve-racking but definitely entertaining. We were certainly not up front and personal with the engaging flash bulbs or the curious fans at the railings, whom I bet didn’t even notice we were there. But we were slowly pacing behind Valeria, donned in a dreamy moss green gown that truly belonged on the red velvety stream. And when I say Valeria I mean Valeria Golino, probably the most notable and productive Italian actress of the last two decades. She was in Rain Man, just to give you an idea. She is the sweetest, most educated, well spoken and elegant human being I’ve ever met. Totally weird from someone born in Naples, like my mom. If I were to pick one word for her it’d be grace. Graceful on the job, graceful with colleagues, graceful during lunch breaks when she would recount of that time she was being directed by Sean Penn or acting with Steve Buscemi, graceful with journalists and the public, graceful with me, whenever I meet her. I couldn’t have asked for a better debut actress-wise and she knows, I’ve told her.
So escorting her, or rather being escorted by her, in this brave new ride down the carpet was a big fat ruby cherry on top of a cupcake, with icing, and sugar, and a little chocolate chip sprinkle. Unstoppable artery clutching heart attack. That kind of sweet!

Starting the flood. Can you spot Valeria? 

Red Carpet face!

Once inside we got to our exquisite seats, couple of rows in front of the actors, one ahead of the Festival’s jury’s President (so I turned around a lot to have a look at his reactions during the screening. Some of them screamed "bored!" unfortunately), in the midst of the action, and of the clapping, and of the feeling very important for once.

I had already seen the movie the previous day so no surprises there. But it was nice to find out that the production had organized a little party afterwards. We had no choice. We danced the night away.

Admit one

When I'm in a hurry, I skip foundation.

Festival Internazionale del Film di Roma

The first day of my first ever festival is ending. I'm riding the underground home as I write this.

And there's more to this already glorious collection of firsts. The most important and most anticipated one for a person who does my job has claimed a place in the mix, and not just any place, first, obviously!

I just came out of the press preview of "La scuola è finita", my first ever feature film. Of course you're wondering, and the answer is YES. A thousand times yes. I'm in the credits! For the first time!

And yes again, it's intense. I would have cried if someone hadn't sneaked behind my back making me feel uncomfortable. It's like you've won a little prize, though one for which no one else can compete. It's a trophy you snatch from yourself, and that's probably the greatest satisfaction!

Also in this packed day:

I watched an extremely ginormous Sam Wortington from the second closest row in this movie called Last Night. He has all the right freckles in all the right spots let me tell ya. I kind of hoped he would show up for the press conference afterwards but instead he sent forward the Brit with the grit.

While I wanted to slap her continuously on her teeth with my boot, it actually pains me to say that Kiera Knightley showed some wits, whereas, may she not be mad at me, Eva Mendes sounded like her brain was depotted and she was sent to an engineering conference. Oh she was funny, but only to herself.

I know you can't see a thing here but let's pretend you recognize Kiera and Eva in the second and third from the left respectively. Please, for me! It's my grandawesome day!!

I was in a splendid meeting with Kurosawa's Script Supervisor and AD. If you guessed anything about me and my dream job you'll know I was all over the room shushing people by dangling my disgruntled fist in front of their eyes like a Disney character.

I took part in a great protest march against financial cuts to the arts and the audiovisual market. As I'm trying to explain to the people from L.A. that I talk to, the situation here is disastrous. So disastrous the bottom of the bottle is actually above our heads.

Four thousand people walked as one on the red carpet tonight, and then sat on it for two whole hours, discussing tax credits and funds. The Kieras and Eves had to give up strutting their stuff on the parade, instead they came in from the back door and spoke about supporting the cause. That's easy to say from above your Loubs ladies!

I'm stating the obvious by saying this subject deserves its own post, so I will leave it at this for now. You guessed right, I will indeed talk politics in said post. Lower your eyebrows skeptics, that's an exception I'm willing to make for my sweet lover, Monsieur Cinemà.

Last but not least this is me in one of the happiest, most fulfilling throw onto bed ever!

Tomorrow we start it all over again at 9.00 am sharp. Alarm clock says 6.30. I say "what da---?!". Goodnight movie lovers!

I'm back, back from the Future

It never gets old. I figured there'd be a time when I'd stop saying this, but that time ain't come yet, and at this point I doubt it ever will. Latest test, the big screen, passed with McFlying colors! (I know I'm just a lame nerd, turn your backs on me while you still can)

The funny is still funny, the flux capacitor still fluxing, the suspense still suspended, the story is still alive.

There are some facial expressions these actors gave 25 years ago that talk loud, clear and to the damn point even if you have seen them a gazillion times.

I'm thinking stuff like this:

I will add more tomorrow as I get the time to grab them from the DVD.

Each turn surprised me even if I was in total control of the steering wheel, let's face it I know this script by heart in TWO completely different languages.

But I will never do it justice with my humanoid vocabulary so I'd better not waste my time on that. Especially since tomorrow marks the start of the Rome Film Festival and I have to be early, in good shape and looking great at the utmost opposite point of the city.

Speaking of, my point is, I was interviewed today at the screening because I was wearing my Back to the Future shirt (people apparently thought I'd had this great, forward idea, stopping me like I was a celebrity. I thought I'd just got dressed with the only natural thing you would wear to such an event). I was asked to voice whatever I wanted on the film. Anything. I stood blank. Mumbled something. Then felt like a stupid cow.

As I said, words can't but stop at some things, and this is one of them.

******************

Update!

A little more than one day as passed since I solemnly declared that I was going to grab pics from the DVD, and I've been very busy as you all know with the Rome Film Festival, but a solemn promise is a solemn promise. So tonight I put myself to it and rediscovered (I forget every time) that although I regularly purchased my copy of the movie I can't do whatever the fuck I want with it. It is in fact prohibited that I snap pics of it however I please. I am terribly annoyed about this and while I do understand copyright issues I am going to fight this fascist dictate!

So I ended up spending the last hour downloading free softwares, scanning forums and overall just trying to hack my mac. I will proudly say that the regime is defeated! Aided by Captain VLC and Lieutenant Apple Preview I tapped the Cricci flag deep in the enemy's ground and blew a rounded, tonic raspberry in its face.

I love this movie and I want to share iconic moments from it with other fans, maybe I want to print one out and keep it in my wallet. As long as I'm not using it for illegal purposes I should be able to take a look at a frame of the film I bought with my sweated money whenever I feel like it, even if I'm not in front of a screen. Therefore I encourage you to save this caps I made and spread them around in a BTTF-loving-lawfully-driven manner!

So these are the faces that still make me laugh 25 years later. I'll tell you I was laughing again while I was working on them, does it make me very tired, hopeless or awesome? You decide!

Strictly chronological order:

George McFly enjoying his son's take on greasy hair.

Marty McFly double-takes on a kid who looks familiar.

The Flux Capacitor is what makes time travel possible!

Doc thinks Lorraine is a psycho.

Doc enjoys watching what Marty can come up with concerning the rhythmic ceremonial ritual.

Marty McFly has an Edipo moment.

The wire just got unplugged. Again.

Do you want to tell me which one is your favorite? I really care!

Leave a comment below.

Today is the day

I was two that year, so that’s not possibly when I saw it the first time. Still I can’t remember when it was. I can’t even track the times I have actually watched it because they’re so lost in the blurry memories of childhood. I have one word for you: ancestral.

People say stuff you can’t remember never happened. I say if I can’t remember how my love for Back to the Future started it means I was born with it. It was my density.

And it is indeed. It is my density to see it on a big screen tonight. I have been waiting for this moment since I can’t even tell, hence, forever.

My text message alert sound is a recording of Doc saying “Great Scott” I snatched playing the DVD on loud TV 6 to 7 years ago, while not everybody gets it, it speaks volumes to me. It means something. I went crazy in a bar the other night when a cover band played Johnny B. Good and I said “Chuck. Chuck. It's Marvin - your cousin, Marvin BERRY. You know that new sound you're looking for? Well, listen to this” to a plain yellow wall. It meant something to me. There’s always a way to quote Back to the Future and to find a little of it in our everyday life. Even after 25 years. That’s how rich of a phenomenon it’s been. Have you ever looked at Calvin Klein underwear like they were just Calvin Klein underwear?

Back to the Future forged my carefree attitude in life and toward filmmaking. Marty McFly shaped everything I look in a man up to this day, and of course no one I ever find even remotely measures. I will live with its legacy forever and I wouldn’t ever want to change that. Of all the historical film moments in the history of cinema I am glad I was born just in time to be here for this one.

And I will celebrate this tonight.

From my pilgrimage to the Universal Studios in Los Angeles, August 2006 (second visit - first one dated 1998, pictures under wraps due to house renovation)

My little memorabilia collection. Hoping to nourish it soon with this...

The Flux Capacitor replica. Now this is heavy.

****************

And now a few reminders of why this day is so amazing. If they were ever necessary...

I didn't know about this and it rocks my socks!! (Bonus points for showing Peter Jackson, another fave of mine)

This is an oldie but-ah, hum... It's an oldie where I come from...

Undercovers - Not without my daughter

The episode this week feels like a lame Alias installment, so in Undercovers world, that’s pretty awesome! Sadly there’s no Leo. But plenty of Stupid Sister, frankly waaaay too much. To the extent that we are painstakingly greeted by her and one obnoxious phone call she’s trying to keep underwraps in order to cover up some shady biz. Either she’s hiding the fact that she drinks again, in which case we couldn’t care less, or she’s a spy too and plays for the opposite team, to which I would reply BRING IT and momentarily excuse the writers for showing her face. But then again maybe she’s just having an affair with Leo. So thrust her back into the dark.

Moving on, there’s a ninja in a dumpster in North Korea. You get my attention now. The ninja infiltrates an office building and steals a thoroughly compartmented object a la Sydney Bristow and the old red floating ball. He manages to escape the guards from the window and lowers himself down to the floor beneath where he strips of ninja attire and sits at his desk. Woah, high treason. He looks like a slim Ken Tanaka, and goes to meet his daughter Gogo Yubari to tell her he must be going far away and someone will come for her. I wonder who that someone is. I hope it’s Leo for a sec, but I’ve already given away that he’s MIA. Wait a minute! Oh God, maybe he’s making out with Stupid Sister. Ew, gross.

Baldie explains to the Blooms that Ken Tanaka is a genius who wants to defect and go all CIA. They have to extract him from a conference in Geneva, where he is escorted by Korean guards because Korea has sniffed sniffed the smell of betrayal. Of course we can’t leave Baldie without a comic relief moment and we are treated to him shoving the Blooms out of his hotel room once the quesadilla he was waiting for arrives. That isn’t even remotely funny you guys!

That same night the Blooms are in bed trying to learn 8 years of physics in 8 hours in order to pass as believable scientists on their mission. This feat sounds so easily accomplishable that they decide they can spare a little time having sex. So they do. Have sex. Because they hadn’t humped last week and we were missing it.

The household back-story involves Sam wanting to organize a dinner party whereas Abs is a sociopath and doesn’t want to have friends. This kind of reminds me of the episode where Giuliana & Bill wanted to have people over, she tries to cook cannelloni for them and Jacobi almost throws up when he tastes them.

Back on track. Of course tartan jackets and horn rimmed glasses solely do a good job of making them look like scientists, so much in fact that they don’t really need to be prepared for the role. In hindsight they were fairly perceptive when they opted to do the nasty.

Besides, Flunkman knows how to search around Wikipedia and he reads out loud right in their earpieces. Revenge of the nerds. Abs flaunts his stuff saying smart is the new sexy. Very true. Flunkman being the exception obviously proves he’s smart AND a virgin. I think the problem there is your face honey.

The extraction doesn’t go smoothly but it’s indeed carried out, with the most unfortunate help of the chem. engineer double major virgin who blocks the elevator where Ken, Abs and Korea in the form of two guards are traveling, so that Abs can electrocute the guards and save the princess.

The princess though isn’t happy with his conditions anymore. He will comply with the CIA and hand them the device he stole at the beginning (which apparently does some serious shit) only if they bring Gogo Yubari stateside. Abs thinks he can be bribed with cars and houses and forget about her, but the wife disagrees, and because she feels bad about missing her sister’s party (which I won’t dwell into) she has a suddenly heighten family morale hence believes that Ken is right in wanting his daughter with him. Baldie says NO. “No one goes to Korea, no one moves. Roger that?”. Sam says “The hell”. Korea here we come!

The Blooms sans Flunkman pose as Canadian food inspectors, whatever that is, thus ensuing in a little French. I highly dislike this move. As a condition of their stay they are assigned a guide and confiscated passport and cell phones. They ask the guide to detour in a picturesque market where it’s easy for them to escape, then head to the house where Gogo Yubari is supposed to be. Supposed that is, because we were shown right before this that she has been taken by the police. While Sam is about to find out about a message Gogo managed to leave on the floor before being captured, there’s some noise coming from outside and the door to the apartment opens. Please be Leo. Be Leo. Aaaand… No.

It’s the Blooms’ French counterpart. A married spy couple looking for Gogo as well. Princess Ken Tanaka double dipped and is going to allow himself only to the best bidder, and that is whoever brings his daughter back. With sugar on top.

They find out the message on the floor points to a police station where Gogo is held hostage. The Blooms and the Depardieus decide to join forces in the rescue. Gerard is also very knowledgeable on this specific area of Korea because he posed as a journalist there for years. I don’t trust them one bit. Meanwhile Stupid Sister texts because she wants to hold on Sam’s skirt while celebrating her sobriety but Sam’s skirt is not there. I don’t like her one bit.

The police station is covered by a laundry business so the foursome make up a plan involving big carts full of dirty clothes to sneak in. At sundown. The girls distract the surroundings while the guys beat the crap out of people. When they get to Gogo she is about to be tortured. They knock the guards out and guess what? Taking advantage of a tiny moment of distraction on Abs part while he devours his wife’s ass with his eyes the Frenchie kidnap her. I knew they were scumbags. French.

Back in Geneva they want Ken Tanaka to hand them the device in order to see his daughter. Because Flunkman has fallen asleep he manages to sneak out and go meet them. When the Blooms get there he’s nowhere to be found.

I wonder how they boarded the plane back without their passport, considering they were flying solo and lacking any CIA approval nor connection.

Anyhow, the room where Ken was staying had been bugged so they’re able to locate the meet up place. Sam goes right there. The guys are left figuring out where Tanaka must have hidden the device and of course they pinpoint it in one split second: it’s in the podium at the conference centre. Right that moment the Depardieus learn the same thing. The wife stays behind with their hostages and Gerard goes retrieve the device. He is met by Horn Rimmed Abs minus the tartan and engages in a run through the kitchens where he is piteously defeated among the zucchines.

Meanwhile Sam on a cop bike and donning a leather jacket smashes the French bitch to the ground and rescues Gogo.

The power of family is then restored and even Baldie can’t argue with that. He’d offered Korea a bottle of whiskey and they had forgotten about the international intrusion. Sam hugs it out with Stupid Sister and has meal for two with her husband. Turns out dinner parties are overrated and Giuliana Rancic was right all along. Roll credits.

By the way, I liked this shot.

My two cents on: Buried

Brilliant. Brilliant. Brilliant. Inception’s got nothing on it!

Buried just came out here in Italy and I’m mad as hell, they keep doing it. Dish us the great movies in time you bastards!

Oh no, I was just a tiny bit bitter, and bitter is the last thing I want right now. Because instead I’m ecstatic actually, I am thrilled and inspired by the power of moving pictures… Oh you have no idea!!

These things are what I live for. Challenges. Wits. Human beings bending their arms and making it happen!

I was scared to go see it at the beginning, when I had a look at the trailer the first time I was - the hell you’ll see my face Mr. Johansson. But somehow the hype increased with the passing weeks, and not because there was any type of exaggerated marketing, it simply grew on me. That’s what art does by the way. And then it was show-time this Friday and I felt the urge. I booked tickets online today and I felt kinda eerie the entire afternoon. Creepy films have ways of sneaking up on me in my dreams. I am very careful with my choices on the matter. So I tiptoed to my seat in the theatre and I was quiet for a while. Pondering. Then I took a breath, the movie started and I was never able to produce a single thought again for the whole 94 minutes. I was completely absorbed.

This work not only has the strength of a fresh, brave concept, it also develops it poignantly. No considerable gaps in the plot, no dull moments, no pathetic resolutions. No nothing. Just plain awesomeness. The story is strong and the storytelling backs it up completely.

Cortés breeds these great, unexpected camera movements, jumping back and forth around our very own insurmountable line. Considering what I do for a living – well, that’d be the case if they were paying me to do it (Hey, I won’t accept sour remarks here, this is a happy piece!) – that was both weird and exciting to see. He is all over the place with his equipment!

When the screen goes pitch black he always comes back with an unexpected angle. And I mean you are bound to do that if you want to keep an audience’s attention alive for an hour and thirty four minutes with one man inside a box as big as his own damn frame. Without showing any boobs.

Also I appreciated that they managed to keep it at a fairly realistic lighting without having to be boring with it. Reynolds is in fact equipped with his fair share of disco bulbs. Such a kaleidoscopic rainbow of horrors, one color for each demising stage. Well played.

Speaking of the Rey-man he’s brave enough to step up to it, and he does a fairly good job. Honest performance would far better critics than me say. You’ve come a long way from Van Wilder uh? I was still hoping you’d lose your shirt here and there though, like old times. No such luck.

I've heard our leading actor say that if Alfred Hitchcock had been presented this script he would have totally directed it. Funny cause that was my first thought.

Lil' connection here Mr. Reynolds, you wanna explore it?

                  

A special post scriptum for the deserving movie’s artwork. The poster looks amazing, and again very Hitchcocky. Plus I love how they incorporated press praise into it.

To some it up, there’s nothing I didn’t love about this picture.

Fucking great movie, that’s all I have to say.

A long long time ago in a country far far away… (Episode 3)

Cricci has returned to her home town of Rome in an attempt to snatch a degree in film studies from the clutches of the vile gangster Jabba the Hutt.

Little does Cricci know that the world is about to change for ever.

Just a few days after my return to home base 9/11 strikes, thus going back to America will never be as easy as it had previously been for me.

I’m talking to you, freaking code of small jars of liquid, cream and vapor possessions, with your hideous zip bag and the damn water you make me swallow whole at the damn metal detector. I swear I’m trying hard to find a way to hold a plane hostage with my 400 ml Lancome face cleanser but THERE ARE NONE. None. Understood you idiots confiscating me my products all the time? I’ll keep searching for one though and oh when I find it… Can you feel my breath on your necks airlines??

I’m also talking about the eminent sect of the Visas. Only if you were bread rightfully, married a member, or participated in a rite of initiation during which you donated gallons of your own warm blood, you’d have a shot at being looked at by them. Poor Visas, they risk ruining their pretty, pure paper eyes if they meet your non-American ugly face.

Don't you worry, digression is over now.

Getting settled in College at first was simultaneously weird and fun. See we don’t manage our own classes in high school. We have no choice whatsoever on what we’re learning in our teenage years. Actually hold on, “whatsoever” is an extreme choice of vocabulary, we are indeed allowed to express a preference on our appreciated field of study, but on that solely, not over single subjects. The first time we are in fact encouraged to do that is when we hit higher education. So of course when that merry occasion occurs you are petrified.

As for me, being the person I am, I got a kick out of it, bought a different colored pen for each subject, created charts and timetables and was at the top of my game, grinning while doing it.

Then again of course we’re in Italy so everything sucks. I mentioned before that I’m not a politic person, I wouldn’t be dwelling in those matters with a gun to my head, but it is fair to say that in our country hands-on education is a highly disregarded concept. And I will leave it at that.

Having chosen to pursue a College career in filmmaking, I was hoping we would be doing a little filmmaking. How fucking naïve of me. I spent the first year of my new exciting life sipping from the same old canister of boiled Italian literature, world history and art chronicles. Wow, how electrifying!! If I wanted to appreciate the world of poetry, human evolution and paintings I would have chosen it!

To be fair there were a couple of theatre and cinema related classes. All we did in there was talking, talking, talking, and never doing, but at least they were somewhat associated to film studies, which is, I will never stress it enough, the name of the degree. They were a couple as I mentioned and we ran out of them quickly. All that was left in our film studies degree, I’ll stress it again, was history of dance (?), anthropology (lmao) and ethnical music (wtf), so of course after a little more than a year I was discouraged as eff you see kay. I stopped being consistent in class attendance and I slept away to sunnier lands.

I started working in tourist resorts!

PS. I apologize for my jokes on fair and square aircraft regulations, and the kind, intelligent people who make us follow them. Also I care to clarify that I love the Visa King. Hail to you. Can you let me in now??