Los Angeles Irish Film Festival

Thursday, the last day of September 2010, was a huge successful festive kick-off to the fourth LA Irish Film Festival at the new location for the Academy of Motion Picture, Arts and Sciences (on Vine Street in Hollywood). 

The festival kicked off with two rare silent films, great finds from the archives, with an original musical composition by the extremely talented Eimear Noone.  From 1914 is a film about the story (one of the many stories) of Ireland's fight for independence using patriot Father Tom Murphy, who had a price on his head, and the famed Irish leader (depending upon who you talk to) Robert Emmet.  Included is news footage from the day that included a piece with the big man himself, Michael Collins.  the second silent film, with an original composition by Noone, was the very funny "William Rogers in Dublin," from the American Cowboy's trip to the city in 1927.  It was most likely Rogers who, unwittingly, set a precedent for teasing the Irish just for being Irish.

The festival was off to a successful start and officially began with the contemporary dramady (a word the Irish probably detest), "Pierre's Bounty."  Unfortunately, it won't get a wide release in the States but will be available on DVD.  It's funny, it's unpredictable, and it has the ever so good Jim Broadbent. 

Followed by cheer and regalia till sometime in the early hours of the first day of October, 'twas a good start to a weekend of talent and cheer.

I was back for the closing night (I prefer to bookend these kinds of things) at the Aero Theatre on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica.  The documentary, "BallyBrando," about the making (or the monumental unmaking) of a film "Divine Rapture," that had begun filming in Ballycotton in 1995 starring Marlon Brando, Johnny Depp, Debra Winger, and John Hurt.  After 10 days of filming in the small Irish village, the movie came crashing down on everyone's hopes when the young producer, Barry Navidi, found out that he'd been "had," and the escrow account that contained all the production monies was a fraud.  some of the best interviews include the village locals who entertained and boarded the American interlopers, only too briefly.  Brando's cook said, that Brando told her that Ireland made him feel "more at home here than anywhere else in the world.  It's nice because this was all weeks after the disastrous suicide of his young daughter, Cheyenne.  Perhaps the documentary will do what the feature film could not do, put Ballycotton on the motion picture map.  If you ever had the opportunity to see this documentary, see it.

Followed by a brief Colin Devlin set on his acoustic and electric guitars.  Good stuff.

The festival closed with a screening of the 1990 film, "The Field," starring Richard Harris and, once again, John Hurt (can't really get enough of John Hurt).  "The Field," is a poignant, yet sad, tale of an Irishman and his field and an American interloper coming back "to find his roots," as the locals sneer.  This Ireland at its most heartbreaking, depressing, and it's what gives them a reason to drink.  Jim Sheridan, the film's director, was at the last minute unable to make the evening.  He was supposed to conduct a tribute to Richard Harris by way of interviewing Harris' three grown sons, Jared, Damian, and Jamie (and his grandson joined them on stage but I didn't catch the young boy's name).  Middle son Damian was a bit snarly and wouldn't take the bloody gum out of his mouth as he spoke.  All three work in the film industry, to varying degrees of success.  Their talk, moderated by Paul Quinn, was unfocused and did little to enlighten anyone but to the fact that as children these boys met a lot of famous people.  One of the brother's began with, "well, my step father is Rex Harrison," and that pretty much began the litany of names dropping.

A reception followed across the street from the Aero at EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY (a children's book and art store).  They kindly opened their doors for us as their first public opening.

The series was compiled by Lisa McLaughlin-Strassman (who also uncovered the two silent films that opened the weekend) and Juli C. Lasselle.  Gwen Deglise assisted. Rachele Rath, my new friend, organized the voluteers.

Any day is a good day to be Irish, but this was the best weekend to be Irish in Los Angeles.  Thank you to the Irish Film Board for keeping their doors open in these economically challenging times and for funding some of the best artists in the world.  I felt like I was in the middle of the Saudi Arabia of Northern Europe--there is an oil well of talent yet to be found.

Blessings to all!

Fagots Stay Out

This is the sign that hung in a neighborhood bar in West Hollywood from the mid-fifties to 1970.  This is how Morris Kight tells the story:


"This sign was a great catalyst for the gay movement.  In spring of 1970 we did a change-in, sit-in, shop in, boycott and picket.  It took all that to persuade [the owner] to surrender us the sign and to never discriminate again in employment or service."

The pickets went on for months and in an unusual twist for the times the LA County Sheriff's were on the side of the demonstrators.  Especially odd since the sign went up in the fifties when the Sheriff's Department warned the owner that his place was picking up "a reputation."

So the the sign came down in 1970 and became a central piece in the Morris Kight Collection.  The new owner of the place (escrow hadn't even closed when the demonstrations began) enjoyed the free publicity that the sign (and the demonstrations) generated that he scrawled out a new fagots stay out sign (questionable spelling and all).  That sign would get taken down and put back up over the years.  At one point, he even had it match books printed.  Finally, West Hollywood incorporated in 1984 and the very first thing the newly elected mayor did was to march into the bar and demand that that sign come down and that discrimination against homosexuals would no longer be tolerated.

Washington D.C., did you hear that?

9/11 12,13,14...

And life goes on. It's different, sure. Those who are eager to pontificate will ask, 'what did we learn?' Well, we learned that there are no weapons of mass destruction--other than our own imaginations. But I'm not certain everyone of us learned that.

Our 9/11 memorializing has turned into "angry protests." We are set upon ourselves. We are determined not to get along. We, human beings, always return to a pattern of isolating a group of individuals for being a certain way. It's a pattern since long before WWII and Nazi Germany. Humans need to hold themselves above other humans. It's odd when you stand back and simply observe the behavior. I recently came across the Dr. Martin Niemeller poem, First they came:

In Germany they came first for the Communists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant.

Then they came for me, and by that time, no one was left to speak up.

Dr. Niemeller, a German theologian and a Lutheran pastor, anti-Nazi, wrote that poem sometime around 1955 (there are disputes over the exact time of writing and the exact wording)
years after WWII ended. Today, I'm so sorry to say, we'd have to add a line about Muslims. What we, the collective American bargaining-away-civil-liberties We, are saying is that they--simply because they are Muslim--are not afforded equal opportunity because of who they are. This is race bait. We treat them differently, like bogeymen, simply because they are not like us. There is no proof that the iman or anyone involved with the "Cultural Center," is a terrorist, is associated with terrorist activities, or will harbor and train and provide seven lucky virgins for every terrorist in America.

And there were NO weapons of mass destruction.

People are saying it's an issue of "sensitivity." Yes, sensitive to all races and creeds. It's in the constitution--not in those exact words but certainly in the spirit of "being sensitive."

The owner of the property sited for an Islamic Cultural Center did not accept Trumps offer of 25% over what he paid for it. Yeah, yeah it's trump tooting his horn again but there is some legitimacy to the idea that this is not about money for the Muslim community. Does that make sense to anyone else?

This is about the bigger principles upon which we lean everyday. If this country wants to tout freedom of religion, then we need to exercise tolerance.

What I'd like to see--maybe this could work out--if the Muslim community behind the Cultural Center would extend an area, a space to share all religions. A place where every person who was killed in the Towers that day will be represented through their religion.

And then watch the bigots shout and go at each other.

Baked

Mark Haskell Smith has just released his third novel, Baked. It was the perfect summer detour for me having been hugging the non-fiction for the past few years for the Kight biography. Baked took me on a ride through the marijuana industry (and make no mistake about it folks--it is an industry), introduced me to a stray Mormon, some (new) kinky sex tricks, and inside the head of an LAPD detective desperately in need of a vacation.

I've been so wrapped up in piecing together a non-fiction story, the life of Morris Kight, that I may have forgotten the joy of writing for the sake of the joy of writing. Haskell Smith gently reminded me of what I've been missing.

I wish Mark Haskell Smith all the success in the world with Baked.

Now back to my regularly scheduled input/output. But I'll be blogging more.

a win for the little guy

This is kind of old news, for me, but it's getting a little attention now so I may as well fan the flames. The facts are a little mixed up in Bob's blog. the fact is I won three separate claims in small claims court against Burger King for harm caused by their blatant disregard for noise control laws. Specifically, they disregarded laws that prohibit construction from beginning before 7AM on weekdays, before 8AM on Saturdays, and "never ever on Sundays." That's a direct quote from the law.

"The law" that Burger King corporate and franchise owners feel they are above or immune from the consequences of the law. And generally speaking they probably are, except in the case when they disturbed this hard-working gal once too often and when the construction began, it was way too violent. It was a protracted battle compounded by their abuse of the drive thru window speaker box that went off from 6AM to 2AM on weekends. Come on, even renters have a right to a good sleep.

Dealing direct with the franchise owner was unfulfilled, they couldn't even say "sorry." So I thought about and thought about it and came up with a good plan of counter-attack. Out of the 8 days of being woken up by their construction noise, I picked the 3 most egregious (2 Saturdays and a Sunday) and file three separate claims, one for each day, to compensate for the consequences of them breaking the law. I won.

It's worth it. If you feel wronged by an entity that seems too big to lose--take action. Even if I didn't win the money, it was nice to be heard in a court and watch the judges look of disgust as he questioned "the defendant" as to why this happened. The answer was vague. But my petition was very clear.

You can win too.

Thank you to Neighbors from Hell dot com for the encouragement and to Bob for the kind words.

I haven't evaporated

Just incredibly busy. I'll have something to say soon.

Moving Money

I have no idea what happened to the previous link, but here it is again. And here is more information on the whole Move Your Money movement that is taking place.

Do what you want with your money. It's yours. I'm not selling you anything either. But please don't sit back and say there is nothing that you can do about the mammoth banks control over everything. Stand up and say, no thanks!