I dunno dude’s reaction to that missed FT at the end wasn’t very #based
April 2013
1 post
March 2013
4 posts
To start, a promise: over the coming days, I will make no effort to persuade you, kind reader of OW//OB, to believe that Phish is anything other than what you think them to be. This isn’t going to be an exercise in evangelism. You will not be asked to play the Scott Aukerman to my Harris Wittels. I will not try to convince you that the lyrics to “You Enjoy Myself” are profound, or that the boredom you experience while listening to a 30-minute version of the same song is a personal failing, the result of simply not listening hard enough—though you’ll have the chance to try this for yourself with one of the best 30-minute versions ever in a post coming later today. I will not, as Matt Hendrickson once did in the hallowed pages of the Rolling Stone, claim that Phish were the most important band of the 90s. I will not try to convince you that they are important at all.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to reblog everything here this week, but I figured I should at least get this one just as a final heads up for anyone who might be interested in way too many of my words on a band you probably hate.
Thank you, Kerry & Lauren! And also thanks to Ed Droste for the kind words and support.
Next week, we’ll take a look at long-running, genre-bending, and “opinion-splitting” jam band Phish.
Guest writer is Phil Coldiron, who is the editor for film & electronic art at Idiom Magazine, and has contributed to a number of film publications, including Cinema Scope, Slant, Moving Image Source, and LA Weekly.
You can also find Phil on Tumblr as well as on Twitter.
Till tomorrow,
— Hendrik
I promise that I’m not going to try to convince anyone to like Phish.
November 2012
1 post
August 2012
4 posts
“A call to the arms of love: on the love of film as a politics of film, on critique-as-love and love-as-revolutionary-force, in memory of Alexis Tioseco, Nika Bohinc and my father; or, another letter I would love to read to you in person.”
So much love for/from every word here.
“I guess in a way I longed to be rad/When I was with her it felt wrong to be sad”
David Berman reading poetry over the Avalanches is a thing that I am on board with.
July 2012
5 posts
June 2012
2 posts
May 2012
3 posts
April 2012
2 posts
March 2012
8 posts
Full audio of the Nicole Brenez + Kent Jones lecture at Columbia University, 3/1/2012 as part of Jane Gaines’ “Sites of Cinema” series.
Huge thanks to Patrick Wilson for his help on making this as listenable as possible.
If you’d like to download for on-the-go listening, click here.
February 2012
6 posts
January 2012
4 posts
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October 2011
1 post
September 2011
2 posts
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Sleepwalk (Sara Driver, 1986)
The mood from Duelle. A story from a napkin that Pynchon threw out when he was making notes for Lot 49. A lead actress with the most expressive nose this side of Laura Dern. Sara Driver gets at an image in the most complicated manner she can, usually finding about 18 different shadows and then circling them with a few more distractions – even when things seem like they’re moving toward a point of coherence it’s a movie at odds with itself. What sets her apart from Rivette and Pynchon: where their disintegrations lead to new narratives – Gravity’s Rainbow falls apart and still has 200 pages to go, Out 1 sustains itself hours after it’s irrelevant whether or not there was ever even the idea for a conspiracy – Sleepwalk ends after just 75 minutes with the movie expelling some characters and others deciding they don’t much feel liking being in a movie anymore. Suzanne Fletcher lying down to sleep, adrift and with her son still missing, is one of the great acts of resistance in the history of cinema: this situation is shit and I won’t stand for it, so take your movie and shove it. If only we were all that brave in the face of injustice.
August 2011
6 posts
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Numéro zéro (Jean Eustache, 1971)
First things first: dialectical film: two cameras – one moves, the other doesn’t. The movement of the one is purely optical, which is both psychological and historical; the stasis of the other is purely scientific. A film about history: of the 20th century; of a woman; of a family; of a future; of Jean Eustache’s beautiful life. A film about science: an experiment in two concurrent and contiguous halves: the doubled recording of 9 reels of 16mm film, occurring in real time; hypothesis: the cinema is both purely objective and subjective. The creation of one history – the one that we watch that’s called Numéro zéro creates a parallel history: one we’ll never see, the phantom film of the other camera. As Odette Robert tells us about a 20th century, Jean Eustache tells another one, which is both more abstract and more concrete. It’s one that’s built equally of a presence – the production of a reality and the reality of its production – and an absence – the phantom of the other camera becomes the 20th centuries that Odette can’t tell; they are the ghost that’ll haunt the cinema forever.

