American-edged Germany in memorable film
I finally saw Inglourious Basterds today and I came out deeply satisfied. Lately, I’d been watching a series of war and post-war movies set in Germany or German-occupied countries. All were marvelous, including German films Der Tunnel (The Tunnel) and Das Leben der Anderen (The Lives of Others) – originally called Sonata for a Good Man, and the Dutch masterpiece Zwartboek (Black Book).
I was pleased to see some similar faces such as Daniel Brühl and Diane Kruger, both who played similar characters in Joyeux Noël, a fantastic multi-country co-production. And unforgettable was the smoking-hot Til Schweiger, who played basterd Hugo Stiglitz. But mostly, it was the flawless acting which allowed me to be surrounded by the scenes and not be put at arm’s length like many flashy Hollywood films prefer to do.
Kudos to you, Herr Director. If I ever see your towering presence again in Austin, I will salute you. Maybe a Heil Tarantino would be in order.
Other foreign actors I’d love to see more of in American films (and in meatier roles) are:
- Marion Cotillard
- Benno Fürmann
- Guillaume Canet (who is also a promising new director)
- Jason Statham
- Jean Reno
- Carice Van Houten
- Sebastian Koch, and others I’ll mention later.
Anyway, if you haven’t already seen it, do. It’s not a blood-fest. It’s a well-thought-out dramatic piece with plenty of bits of comedy to entertain.
A delight!
Roma, you suck, but you coulda been cool
So I neglected to rant about my April trip to Rome. This is probably because I’d returned to Barcelona and successfully washed Rome off of me in the Catalan city I call “where my heart is.” Pardon the euphemism.
After I arrive in the slut I call Rome, I take a loudly-squeaking, graffiti-covered train – think of an old lady in metal form – and then get ripped off by a seemingly warm-hearted taxi driver. “Oh, your first time in Rome, eh?” – which in Italian means “I am going to rape your wallet, but with a huge smile on my face.” He even asked what I was doing so far on the other side of the city, when in actuality the train station and my hostel were on the same side and it was a mere five-minute drive from the station. The meter he was using was very odd – no decimals – and was completely different from any other meter I saw for the rest of my trip.
I pay the damned 20 euros – though it should have been about 8 – because I just want to get to my hotel, dammit. So, bye, a-hole. Hello, f-ing Rome.
My hotel, Hotel Lodi, is an oasis in the grime-ridden, tourist-ridden, old-crap-ridden, noodle-ridden hole I call Rome. The hosts are friendly, it has a lovely courtyard, one of the staff just out of the blue cooks lunch for a few of us, and it is outside of the touristy areas.
The rest of my Roman experience is pretty much crap. The spirit that I thought was the core of the Italian existence is missing. It is as if the tourists have sucked the life out of the city. The city is in ruins, not just its old buildings. Because my guy in Barcelona requested it, I take various pictures of famous sights, but I am unimpressed. I had gone there to live like a Roman, but Romans are no fun anymore. Clubs are small – bars are more the norm – and other than the weekend and a few random clubs on a Monday – namely, an American-filled, hip-hop meat market – I’d say the nightlife, not so great. Roman guys are weird-looking in general – kind of Neanderthal or nondescript, and there’s very little variety in food. And guess what? Carbonara is not good for you. Oh, how it hurts!
I had only booked 4.5 days there, but 3 is enough. I frantically Skype–> fail – -> internet –> fail –> call, to get my flight changed so that I can get back to my beloved Barcelona 1.5 days earlier. I pay 100 euros for the favor – more than my original ticket – and escape!
Of course, my experience could have been a lot better had I remembered to contact people via couchsurfing.org, before my laptop started spazzing. After the fact, I saw that there were an impressive % of good-looking Roman couchsurfers who could have made the trip bearable.
ACTUAL GOOD THINGS ABOUT ROME:
1) A drink called a Spritz, which is Campari, sparkling white wine and sparkling mineral water and twist of orange. My first I had at the Caffe Ducati, which on a late Saturday night was sadly one-tenth full. But the drink was nice. Note: Campari by itself is disgusting!
2) Shopping - not the best I’ve seen but I bought a unique leather purse for 40 euros and a comfy, pretty tiered top. Rome had a Fornarina and Stuary Weitzman shop, plus a lovely billboard of Marion Cotillard, one of my top three fave actresses in the world. She’s a mix of gutsy and vulnerable.
3) Amazing starving artists - do you see this dude doing a masterpiece in chalk? Crazy, eh? Here’s a link to him and his fellow artists: http://madonnaripugliesi.blogspot.com/
Quick, get your love on, Bruce Lee style
Bruce Lee’s former Hong Kong home will only be a love hotel until plans to make it into a museum take effect. A design contest jump-starts the conversion plans, while the current hourly-rate hotel serves its most expedient customers. Check out Yahoo! News article to see where I found out. And no, I’m not saying that the dude in the picture resembles Bruce Lee in any way besides sharing a possible few DNA strands. It’s just a photo that’s supposed to elicit a similar emotion to that possibly experienced in a love hotel.
Celebration of unique blogs
I don’t know how these girls get the pics they do, but what a lovely little blog full of pictures and frivolity featuring soccer stars – mostly the pretty ones – throughout. Got to appreciate some pics you don’t see everyday, at least in the States. It’s also kind of a tribute to families which soccer players also seem to create, at the very least after the DNA evidence grows to about three feet tall and starts to ask why Mommy and Daddy aren’t married yet. Check out Kickette for good times.
Confederations Cup Soccer Championship Highlights
I tweeted commentary for the first time via my twitter i.d. as I watched the Confederations Cup final between Brazil and the United States and the third place run-off between South Africa and Spain. Tweeting about five or six times per half so it wouldn’t get crazy, I figure I might keep it up for other competitions.
Now on to the highlights.
- Bottom-of-the-barrel U.S. rockets into second place in group play beating Egypt 3-0 to move on to the semi-finals.
- Italy gets bumped off in an embarrassing 0-1 loss against South Africa, a great part of the reason the U.S. advances.
- Egypt loses in a hotly contested (at least by Egypt) group play match against Brazil 4-3.
- Brazil squeaks by on a questionably-called free kick to beat South Africa 1-0 in the semi-final while no free kicks are called in South Africa’s favor for similar and worse fouls during the crucial part of the game.
- The U.S. beats a too-casual Spain an impossible 2-0 using a power-in-numbers defensive strategy that proves to be a brick wall, and taking advantage of Spain’s conservative midfield and defensive positions to score on two of many breakaways won.
- Brazil beats the U.S. 3-2 after being down 0-2 at the end of the first half. But it really should have been 4-2 with a “ref didn’t see it” goal by Kaka caught in-goal by Howard.
- Spain wins most stylish uniform – part-royal, part-Star Trek. They also win most gang-bangable.
- South Africa wins most attractive crowd with their white-white teeth and their beautiful facial features.
- South Africa wins “most want to take an uzi to” for blowing those horrible horns throughout the games.
World Cup 2010
Hard to believe, especially since the hairstyles of some of the most noteworthy players of the last one still persist, but World Cup 2010 is coming. There are a ton of qualifiers going on just this weekend, so no need to wait. I prefer to watch mine with dedicated beer-guzzling fans in my local pub.
Rugby and Nudity
I had to mention nudity in the title because I wouldn’t have discovered this sport had it not been for the nudity. It all started with a “taping of” DVD I’d rented done by Pedro Usabiaga, a photographer who has shot some of the best-known European celebrities and athletes but has a penchant for shooting hard male bodies. It’s called Private Diary if you want to go check it out. Anyway, when I was searching for it on amazon.com, Amazon’s clever recommendation tool told me I may also like Dieux du Stade, an almost-nude or nude celebration of some of the hottest rugby players of the French Stade rugby team and others they’ve recommended for the honor. So, I bought a couple of their DVD’s and the heavy coffee table book. Inspired by what I saw therein, I began investigating some of the teams these players were on, and thus began my interest in rugby as a spectator’s sport. It looks even better that soccer. Their shorts are shorter and sometimes they wear muscle shirts. They’re big dudes and they have pecs, which soccer players tend to lack in favor of speed and leg strength. It’s very aggressive and they don’t wear pads. What a celebration of human potential!
Dance the night and morning away
Nightclub Apolo, Barcelona
So if you’re a party girl or boy like I am, you’ll appreciate the social network for partiers, Tilllate.com, TILL LATE in English, TEE-YAH-TAY in Spanish, just so you don’t get blank stares like I did. You can see photos taken at the hottest clubs throughout Europe. I’m in one of the pics, but I look a little odd so I’m not going to tell you where to look. I’ll just say May 8.
My favorite clubs in Barcelona are: Space (best on Friday unless you’re a tater-tot – then go on Thursday), La Madame (only on Sunday nights if you’re not a gay man), and Apolo (famed for its inventive Monday mix but great all week). The above crappy pic is one I took at Apolo, but at least it’s authentic. Pacha was my favorite till it shut down but can be found in other international hotspots including Madrid, Ibiza and Manhattan.
Unfortunately, I can’t tell you my favorite clubs in Madrid because I was essentially taken to places and just went with the flow. Ten days out of thirteen I stayed up till 6 or 7 a.m. Yeah, Madrid! Not as fashionable or vain as Barcelona, but they know how to live it up and do it in a laid-back way, kind of like San Francisco with hotter people. It’s a city where beer is a food group. I think I ate one meal a day the whole time I was there. Ask for the drink Tinto de Verano for a beer-substitute – weak, girly, and refreshing. Kapital is worth a visit; it’s the largest meat market I’ve ever seen with its seven floors and as many themes. Just don’t go during a Spanish holiday like I did. Trust me on this.
Clubs in Spain open around 1 a.m., get busy after 2, and close at 5 or 6. Then, you hop on the the metro and you’re good to go. There are after-parties but they’re not for the faint of heart or for the gullible. Lots of drugs, some errant knives and wasted people wielding them – I’ve seen the scars – so beware. Both Madrid and Barcelona are pretty compact and I was in the center of each, so getting to and from wasn’t a big deal or expensive like it can be in Los Angeles and Paris.
I know I need to add a travel section. I’ll get to it, give me some time. Ciao!
International Music
A few music stations I enjoy: Maxima FM (Spain), Alouette (France), and Enjoy Station (France). And check out the popular international social network Last.fm and XenoModa’s international music directory.
New look, first post
So intead of tweaking my new WordPress digs to look super, I’ve decided to start writing again. Shocking. I realize I’d forgotten to rant about Rome, so I’ll do that in the next post. Now that I have this nice, new, easy-to-use way to add entries, I’ll have no excuse not to share my latest findings with you. I have collected so many site URLs and waited for the right moment to package and post them, but I’ve decided I don’t need to. I can post a single site when I like, then add it to my various directories. No excuses! No procrastinating! I am finally free!