Portland is My Land

Dear Portland-

Happy Anniversary!

Not only is it the 150th anniversary of Oregon itself, but we are celebrating ten years of togetherness. Okay, maybe I'm just the one who's celebrating. You obviously have other things on your mind. Dude, I even got you a card! What did you give me? Grief! Okay, I'll calm down. I guess this means more to me than it does you. Insensitive brute...

It's difficult to believe that a whole decade has done come and gone since I moved up here to this wettest of all possible worlds and now, I can honestly say to you that is this is the place I call home. Yeah, I said it. I can no longer call myself merely a Californian immigrant and must now claim my status as an Oregonian, third class. (or is it low class?) Yes, I have officially joined the ranks of the Hazlenutted Beavers and settled in Land of the Semi-Occasional Sun.

Y'see, I've grown fonder of you over time, even though you never made it easy on me. I wrote you an open letter to you many moons ago telling you so. (see blog post Displaced in Dis Place) I grew up a little in that time and by gum, so did you, you damp rascal you.

Portland, you finally settled into your identity and you are so much the better for it. You no longer long to be Seattle and aren't pissed off because you couldn't be. You found your voice, one that probably lay silent from years of bitter jealousy and snotty indifference. You've become a gatherer and nurturer of independent spirit in the Northwest, inspiring creativity on all levels from the written word to food innovation to the great and wonderful art scene encompassing painting, music, theater and film...with a public that supports it all. I love it the way you embrace the weird.

Of course you've got your problems.

Recently, I had the horselaugh at the expense of my hometown, Stockton, being named Most Miserable City in the US by Forbes Magazine. Two weeks later, Business Week names you, dear Portlandia, Unhappiest City in America. This is based on double digit unemployment (Oregon placing the highest in the US), crime rate, weather (lack of sunshine), depression (according to insurance claims and doctor visits) and suicides (based on hotline calls and death stats). Jesus, Portland. Stockton may be miserable, but they're not unhappy. No wonder you used to be known as Sweden West.

Then there's that self-righteousness streak in politics and lifestyle choices that you haven't been able to shake. Sometimes, when you are at your most inclusive, you become your most exclusive. Sometimes it's like dealing with a room full of Bill Mahers. Then again, maybe it's your duality that makes you so special and infuriating at the same time.

Gosh. I must be starting really care about you. here I go making excuses for you already.

Things looked swell last November when your constituents voted in Sam Adams, the first openly gay mayor of a major American city. Now many of them want to drum him out of office because he lied about having a tryst with an eighteen year old. "Hey, at least he was legal!" Adams cried in defense. Yeah. Barely. Said affair took place on the lad's 18th birthday. What kind of naive nitwit takes a chance like that before he gets elected, a job he'd been groomed for over the last decade, and lies about it when it comes to the fold, making the whole matter worse in the eyes of his own supporters? Talk about about blowing a big opportunity. Literally.It's too goddamn bad. I hope Adams can get past this big stink. He really showed what he was made out of during the big winter storm, helping you, Portland, get out of that icy mess and keep running before he even took the oath of office. Meanwhile, Tom Potter, the mayor in name only, was drunkenly packing all his shit up and giving a big middle finger to you, the only finger he lifted during that near-disaster. So Sam earned my respect during that period. Baptism by fire...and ice. I hope he gets over this hump, so to speak.

Over time, I've accumulated a list of things that I love about this place. Great people, including actual celebrities other than the TV newscasters who seem to be the only recognizable folk of previous years. We got your Academy Award nominated film director Gus van Sant, the gorgeous high priestess of rockdom Storm Large, Pink Martini, radio goddess Daria O'Neill- to name but a few. We got your various festivals. Sometimes it feels like one long party with a different celebration every single week. There are film festivals, beer fests, food fests, the month long Rose Festival, etc., etc. etc. I think there's even a Festival Festival-one that celebrates all things festive. Maybe it's all to compensate for the weather, though Portlanders party down in the rain also. They have to. Sometimes there's no choice. Add to this mixture incredible vistas around every turn and culture up the ying-yang, if that's your idea of a good time, and you got yourself a wondrous place that even rivals my beloved San Francisco.

As for me, the years have blown by way too quickly. We moved up here when my grandson, Sebastian (see blog post The Great Sebastian), was born and who is now, well, ten and growing way too quickly. Some of the finest moments of my entire have been spent in his presence and I am the richer for it. I've been up long enough to form some relationships with some people, not as many as back in California, but that's my problem dealing with my anti-socialist nature. But there have been a couple close to me that have passed away in the last year, another mileage marker in my life and, well, their's as well.

Lew Bowen was my first boss when I applied to AAA Coffee Service, hiring me with absolutely no experience and not a clue in the goddamn world. I started out washing coffee pots and ending up managing an entire warehouse, moving the whole kit n' kaboodle to the other side of Portland when we were purchased by another company. I'll always be grateful to Lew for giving me a break when I really need one.

Then there's Jauna Gilnett, who we just lost last week, a true jewel of a human being. She really was the heart and soul of the department I now work and one of the most decent, honestly good people I've ever met in my life. I miss that goofy cackle of hers that always brightened my day,

Life isn't fair. It doesn't have to be. That's our responsibility.

Anyway, Portland, I just wanted to thank you too for making the most out of this last decade. I look forward to many more.In the meantime, stay off that damn suicide hotline. If you need to talk, call me instead. I'm in the book. I always screen, but if I see that it's you, I'll pick up.

Honest.

Take care

Your buddy,

Scott

That is SO Last Year-Part Two

Anyone that knows me or has been able to gather from my writings is that time is an issue with me. I am everything's going down the proverbial terlet, as Archie Bunker used to call it . Okay! I admit it! It's cheap therapy and you're all invited!

indeed a slave to time. There's never enough time, time is wasted, the passage of time is cruel, I'm in age denial...etc., etc., etc. So why do I handcuff myself to these year end wrap ups? I suppose I take the opportunity for reflection to remind myself that not

2007 HIGHLIGHTS
THE SOPRANOS-Infuriating in its final hour, still one of the very best shows ever produced for television. I still maintain that the last episode was one of its weakest, but on second viewing the ending kind of grew on me. Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" playing on the diner jukebox while the Mafioso nuclear family ate onion rings? Actually, kind of sweet.
Other TV gems:
MAD MEN, ROME, JEKYLL on BBC America, the season finale of RESCUE ME, the EXTRAS finale special and MR. WARMTH: THE DON RICKLES PROJECT, the best work John Landis has produced in over 20 years.
The whole dizz-guzzting Britney fiasco did mange one bright note. A local Portland band called Nickel Arcade wrote the first pre-emptive Britney Spears memorial song "I Hope That There's Vodka in Heaven". Find the video from these lil' rascals on You Tube.
Storm Large and Wade McCollum in the Portland Center Stage of CABARET made me proud.
SPAMALOT was also a kick in the ass. So there.
The rediscovery of one of the finest film essayist around, former Portland resident Kim Morgan’s ongoing blog SUNSET GUN. read her work at http://sunsetgun.typepad.com/

BEST FILMS OF 2007 (the year they were released, if I have to adhere to the rules of time)
PAPRIKA-The first anime I've seen in a cinema was one of the great mind-trips of the year.
THE SIMPSONS MOVIE-It was exactly what I wanted it to be. For those who complained "It's ten years too late", get in your time machines, go back to 1997 and screw yourselves.
DAY WATCH-Them Russkie vampires! They sure am wacky!
Most of GRINDHOUSE-I loved everything right up until Quentin Tarantino's DEATH PROOF, which he totally botched with his now tiresome wanking.
BLACK SNAKE MOAN-Like a one long wet fever dream set to the blues, this little gem could have played the Grindhouse circuit all by itself. Craig Brewer is a filmmaker to watch.
THE HOST-A giant monster movie for the new millennium. Come on! Give it up for the Koreans! It beat CLOVERFIELD to the punch.
THE DARJEELING LIMITED-Wes Anderson makes films like no other. This may be a bit slight, but I'm a fan and probably an apologist like I always tend to be when I admire an artist.
PAN'S LABYRINTH-A sweet and sour fairy tale from a new master, Guillermo Del Toro.
The best of the year: EASTERN PROMISES-God bless David Cronenberg. After all these years, he has more integrity in his little finger than almost any one of his peers. Unflinching, uncompromising, Cronenberg's the Man. So is Viggo Mortensen.
Keep in mind that I haven't seen about ten to twenty of the rest of 2007. I gotta play catch up, that's for sure.

2007 began a rediscovery in the passion I have in the world of film. Probably one of the best gifts someone can give me is a free subscription to a home film delivery service like Netflix or in this case Blockbuster. It is also the worst I could get since I am incapable of nothing more than watching movies. I am a junkie and this fed-and nearly overfed-my habit. for the first six months of 2007. By the end of June, had seen over 100 films and I can honestly admit that enough was enough. I was full.With this fine gift, however, I found myself able to further my film education, immersing myself in as much variety as I have never have before. There are filmmakers whose work I had been unfamiliar and genres untapped by these eyes, so I took a journey around the world cinema and came home happy, but most assuredly spent.



There were some documentaries that played right into my psyche and drew me back into the filmaholic world I knew oh so well. At times I felt like the obsessive fans like Henri Langlois, whose life is viewed in HENRI LANGLOIS: PHANTOM OF THE CINEMATIQUE or Jerry Harvey, mad programming genius of the cable’s fabled magnificent obsession Z CHANNEL in the documentary of the same name, kindred spirits that made me feel not so isolated in the world. Then again, there were the wack-jobs of CINEMANIA, that made me realize that there but for the grace of God go I. But on the other hand, Langlois died an overweight pauper and Harvey killed his wife before he offed himself, so gee, where does that leave me?


So now I give you, recommendations all, the absolute best of

FILMAPALOOZA 2007

The films of Jules Dassin-NEVER ON SUNDAY, NIGHT AND THE CITY and the real jewel in the crown-THIEVES HIGHWAY

The films of the unsung French maestro Jacques Becker-TOUCHEZ AU PAS GRISBI, LE TROU and CASQUE D'OR

Incredible film noir: OUT OF THE PAST and my new favorite Robert Siodmak's THE KILLERS


Anime-mania:Hiyao Miyaki's entire catalogue and Satoshi Kon's brilliant MILLENNIUM ACTRESS

Radical Politics: THE BATTLE OF ALGIERS, ASHES AND DIAMONDS and THE SPOOK WHO SAT BY THE DOOR

Two new entrants for the WTF Film Festival: Takashi Miike's murder musical HAPPINESS OF THE KATAKURIS and Alejandro Jodorowsky's brilliant THE HOLY MOUNTAIN

So many classics: Bunuel's VIRDIANA, Lang's TESTAMENT OF DR. MABUSE, De Sica's UMBERTO D., Bergman's WILD STRAWBERRIES, Roeg's BAD TIMING, Peckinpah's RIDE THE HIGH COUNTRY, Fellini's I VITTELONI, Powell's THE LIFE AND DEATH OF COLONEL BLIMP, Clement's PURPLE NOON, Miike's AUDITION, Chaplin's THE GREAT DICTATOR, De Palma's SISTERS, Cooper's OVERLORD

And that was just the REALLY good stuff. There was more...LOTS more.

I can always claim that in 2007, I furthered my film education. That's just a pretentious way of saying "I sure watched me a whole buncha movies!"

Yes, I gorged myself...and I am months behind on a pair of projects that should have been completed by now.

What can I say?

I ran out of time.

Come Hear the Music Play

There are times when the stars align and things go perfectly as planned.

In the best casting news I have been privvy to in a long damn time, nothing has been better than the casting of Portland's very own red hot mama, Storm Large, as Sally Bowles in Portland Center Stage's production of Cabaret. I couldn't imagine a better match of stage role to performer if I tried. Even though PCS has been accused of "stunt casting", that is, casting a celebrity in the lead to as an audience draw as opposed to a seasoned stage actor, this time the gamble really paid off. Storm's natural stage presence, honed to perfection in her own years as a cabaret performer in her own write, perfectly adapts well to this show and ceratinly the boozy, coked-up chanteuse known as Sally. Her instincts are correct, even when she has to adopt a semi-British accent, which, honestly I had my own doubts concerning her ability to pull off. No worries. She manages quite well, thank you. Storm can't help but shine however in the musical numbers including the title tune, "Don't Tell Mama" and particularly "Maybe This Time". Her rendition of that song turned me into mush.

Actually, it was easier to accept Storm in the role normally associated with Liza Minnelli, who won an Oscar in the film version of Cabaret, probably because I had anticipated seeing my girl for the very first time on stage. I watched her out-shine, out-perform and out-class everyone on that insipid Rockstar:Supernova reality show last year. I've also enjoyed her various interviews on several local radio shows, particularly The Rick Emerson Show on KCMD AM 970. But sadly, I've missed her shows with her group The Balls and have vowed to catch her live somehow, somewhere. Well, wish fulfillment accomplished. Still, I gotta see her in concert. I owe to myself.

However, it was difficult to erase the memory of Joel Grey in the iconic role of the Emcee until I saw local legend Wade McCollum's performance. This amazing actor strutted around like a gargoyle that had just crawled off the cathedral and stepped into a titty bar. This guy is everything he is cracked up to be and without, this production would only be half a show.

The show, masterfully directed by Chris Coleman, amps up the raunch factor but maintains its timeless message. For example, that haunting ode to Nazi fascism, "Tomorrow Belongs to Me", begins as the recording of a young soloist on a gramophone then later transcends into a chilling anthem that ends Act I.

Cabaret is the first all-Portland production I've attended and sets the gold standard for anything I see here in the future. Storm should be proud to be a part of it, just as Portland, the town she calls home, is proud of her.

Summer Bloggin' Numero Dos

You know, there’s something so gratifying about taking a leak in a major department store and hearing a song by someone you actually know coming through the speakers. Such was the case today when I took a comfort break at the Nordstrom can and listened to my friend, Grant Lee Phillips singing TRULY, TRULY. It reminded me of our days back at the Palace Showboat Theater when he and another performer would sing Rush songs in the men’s room, just because the acoustics were so good.

Continuing on with my Summer '06 Endreport.
(Yeah, as if this stuff is so damn important that it has to be serialized…)

Wrapping up the movies section, I ventured out a few times to view the aforementioned and chastised SUPERMAN RETURNS: THE QUEST FOR FRANCHISE CPR and A PRAIRIE HOME COMPANION, which I covered in an earlier piece (look it up yourself. What am I-your mom?)
I also caught the following:
ARMY OF SHADOWS: I am a sucker for French crime dramas and while this doesn’t fall into that genre, it was directed by a master of the game, Jean Pierre Melville (LE SAMOURAI) which is why I jumped at the chance to view it. This is an ultra-cool as all get out look at the French Resistance in WWII, a 1969 film that had finally made it to the American shore this year. While about twenty minutes too long, ARMY was a fresh approach at a subject that seemed milked dry.
undt
CLERKS 2: Kevin Smith is a very funny man. Rosario Dawson is a very hot woman. 'Nuff said.

However….my favorite films of the season were DVD rentals.
WISCONSIN DEATH TRIP is the best documentary I’ve ever seen. Writer/director James Marsh’s film version of Michael Lesy’s book concerns the horrific and bizarre events that occurred in a small Wisconsin community during the late 19th century. The recreation of this farming community going absolutely bug fuck is just astounding. A hauntingly beautiful piece of work.
and, because I’m a new fan of Korean cinema…
3-IRON-A great twist on a love story when a drifter who breaks into homes not to steal but to merely spend the night, discovers one that is occupied by an abused wife and the two fall for each other without speaking a single word to one another.
TV this summer had several riches to enjoy as well.
RESCUE ME ended another sensational season, one that both made me laugh heartily as well as bawl my eyes out toward the end.
DEADWOOD came to an unfortunate close with a season that matched its first and sometimes surpassed in its intensity. Special tribute must be paid to the jaw dropping performance of Gerald McRaney, the most incredible villain turn of the decade. Who knew Major Dad was such a goddamn good actor?
BUT….
the summer belongs to one star, hopefully rising to the heavens but one who has earned my respect and admiration for being a class act all the way. I watched the dumbass AMERICAN IDOL rip known as ROCKSTAR:SUPERNOVA where a supposed “supergroup” of has-beens and who-the-fuck-is-this-guy auditioned potential lead singers for their band. (Just who is Gilby Clark anyway and why does he look like Travis Tritt on heroin?) From Portland, Oregon came the Amazonian goddess Storm Large who heads up the local band Storm and the Balls (click on the title of this blog to link to her site). While she didn’t make the band (a blessing, considering these guys are going nowhere after their national tour following the show), Storm did make it down to the final five and was able to showcase her enormous talent for a national audience. Her rendition of Dramarama’s ANYTHING, ANYTHING sent chills up and down my spine that still resonates down to my soul to this day. I regret that I have not seen her perform live, but I vow to rectify that error in my judgment as soon as possible. If there is one thing that I’ve learned from this extraordinary lady this summer is that I feel like I am now an Oregonian because she made me feel proud to be living in the same air space she occupies.

Storm, I love you, baby…especially when you’re LADYLIKE.