||[Jun. 4th, 2008|10:24 am]
an amateur historian
"All writing is garbage. People who come out of nowhere to try to put into words any part of what goes on in their minds are pigs." --Artaud
I was sitting in my office the other day reading an old copy of the New York Times and trolling through the obituaries, I saw that Anthony Minghella had died. I clipped the included image and pasted it into my diary. I sat there for a long time, quietly, staring at the picture... This image--this film and Michael Ondaatje and its story... All of them have a history. And it's sad. And tragic. And deeply personal to me and thoughtful too... and seeing this and reading the words about him: his "careful eye for cultural and historical detail" gave me pause. Hmmm... Yeah, so I really liked this guy.
"The son of parents who made ice cream on the Isle of Wight off the coast of England, Mr. Minghella used expansive tastes in literature and deep visual vocabulary to make lush films with complicated themes that found both audiences and accolades."
And then, later, Sydney Pollack dies. And he's quoted in the Minghella obituary too.
“He was interested in the magic,” Mr. Pollack said. “Not fake magic, like hiding the ball under the cup, but real magic, the kind that occurs between people. Nowadays, everybody making movies wants to get the clothes off fast and the guns out quick, he was just the opposite. He was interested in the poetry, lavishing the viewer with story, and scope and richness. Look at what you got for your $12 ticket with Anthony.”
“There was a real authenticity to his work,” Mr. Pollack added. “He made movies about the world that we live in, where stuff happened that no one could have anticipated.”
And there are so many things I would like to talk about--things that have been on my mind that I haven't said to anyone. I've just been writing about them in my little book--keeping it all to myself. I wonder if its healthy or not... and then there's the part of me that doesn't mind so much.