Redrose Cinema Essay

2009-05-06T16:20:00.000-07:00

2009-05-04T10:38:00.000-07:00

FLYING AWAY WITH HER

Flowers reborn on a sunny wednesday afternoon.
Cherry blossom beauties under the blue sky.
And those roses, carmine red roses.
Deep in my heart they remain.

And, above all, that beloved Silver Screen,
a faithful lover called Cinema.
Reminding me of its old fashioned charm.

The Technicolor, the Vista-Vision,
the old Paramount studio lot.
The non diagestic sound, the violins.
All squeezed into one last image.
A Bird and a Lady.

All of it, now, orchestrating the ballet of my heartbeats.

A last kiss and the red curtains close.

THE END

Roll credits.

2009-05-01T05:10:00.000-07:00

YELLE A TOUT POUR PLAIRE

Click on picture above to see the video

Matin de printemps.
Vent du Sud
Chaleur controlée.

Une mélodie ritmée et ritmique.
C'est "à cause des garçons",
Dit-elle.

Victimes de la Mode.
Victimes de l'Amour.
Victimes de la Dance.

2009-04-29T04:11:00.000-07:00

I WANT MY MTV

"You stare into my eyes each night at your devotions and my sense of time becomes your own, a thousand sofa-sunken evenings fused to one, lit by a mesmer fire of crackling cellophane irradiance.

You sit at night there on the couch beside your partner, yet have only eyes for me.

You listen to my voice in rapt attention, yet grow bored or easily distracted when your loved one speaks.

And when at last you part indifferent to each other, who will you resort to in those lonely, post conjugal evenings if not me?

I am the only pure and true relationship that you will ever know."

Alan Moore on the power of television in "Light of Thy Countenance"

2009-04-27T10:46:00.000-07:00

1000 DREAMS TOO MANY

An empty staircase.
No lights, no sound.
Skin deep silence.

A perfume, to guide my sins.
A whisper, to turn me on.
A mirror, to swallow my pride.

Dark limitless fantasies.
Exacerbated by fear.

"Handle with care" he said
"Watch the slippery floor" she answered back.

Dreaming of you.
You, always you.

Meaningless dreams.
Meaningless you.

2009-04-19T02:00:00.000-07:00

LA SINDROME DI STENDAHL

Click on the above picture to watch the video

The Stendahl syndrome, Stendhal's syndrome, Hyperkulturemia, or Florence syndrome, is a psychosomatic illness that causes rapid heartbeat, dizziness, confusion and even hallucinations when an individual is exposed to art, usually when the art is particularly 'beautiful' or a large amount of art is in a single place. The term can also be used to describe a similar reaction to a surfeit of choice in other circumstances, e.g. when confronted with immense beauty in the natural world.

2009-04-18T06:11:00.000-07:00

HER NAME'S CAMILLA RHODES

Cowboy: When you see the girl in the picture that was shown to you earlier today, you will say, "this is the girl". The rest of the cast can stay, that's up to you. But that lead girl is "not" up to you. Now you will see me one more time, if you do good. You will see me, two more times, if you do bad. Good night.

Taken from David Lynch's "Mulholland Drive"

2009-04-17T02:04:00.000-07:00

DEEP WET DREAMS

Underwater fantasies.
The emulated reflection of a time being.
The real battle of you by yourself.
Mirrored unreality.

Underwater battle ground
The two of you.
The beauty of the clash.
In your eyes a sea of despair.

The playground of the deep.
Head in the light,
Heart in the dark.
How deep can we go?

2009-04-16T01:45:00.000-07:00

FOOLS RUSH IN

Click on the picture above to see the video.

"Fools rush in
Where angels fear to tread
And so I come to you my love
My heart above my head

Though I see
The danger there
If there's a chance for me
Then I don't care

Fools rush in
Where wise men never go
But wise men never fall in love
So how are they to know

When we met
I felt my life begin
So open up your heart and let
This fool rush in"

Lyrics from the song "Fools rush in", sung by Vincent Gallo Sr.

2009-04-15T03:45:00.000-07:00

DOGMATIC NONSENSE

2009-04-14T17:03:00.000-07:00

THE FALLING STARS

"Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, even without realizing what he's doing - that isn't important?

If someone loves a flower of which just one example exists among all the millions and millions of stars, that's enough to make him happy when he looks at the stars. He tells himself, 'My flower's up there somewhere...'

But if the sheep eats the flower, then for him it's as if, suddenly, all the stars went out. And that isn't important?"

Taken from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupery

2009-04-12T09:52:00.001-07:00

THE LOVE BELOW

"You had the tango too much

you say you'll keep in touch

back home in your rolls royce

you smile and think of the boys

all of sudden your sight obscures

and your memories drift the air

and you finally feel secure

you're another star up there

a star up there."

Lyrics from the Song "Masterpiece" by Gazebo

2009-04-11T14:14:00.000-07:00

SATURDAY MORNING RECAP

2009-04-10T03:58:00.000-07:00

HOME IS WHERE THE ART IS

The Pride and Joy of Redrose's last hometown.

The Beauty and The Beast

at their most colourful peak.

Head to Head, Red to Black.

Soft to violent, Glamourous to Dirty.

Exciting, rough, arousing, unrealistically cynical.

Fashion absurdities, artificiality made Art.

Some unpleasant hometowners say:

Art is everywhere.

Jeff and Redrose say bullshit also is.

2009-04-09T08:35:00.000-07:00

YOU, GENEROUS YOU

Media and politics: a bag of nonsense.
The reflection of our Gossipy social intolerence.
Hell on earth.

A striking image in that old history book.
A face against the warm pavement.
And the surrounding coldeness: we, the people.
A manipulated crowd insensible to the fall.
Our decadent fall.

Revolutions are dead,
As dead as our feelings.
And I, witness of the atrocity,
in my emotionless indifference,
look at a motionless being.
Speechless.

My heart's broken into pieces.
Can't feel, won't feel.

A striking new image: you by my side.
Sparkling eyes.
Smile on my face.

Unintentional accidental clash:
Edgy moments awake my superficial indifference.
Silence follows, concetration's lost.
Hidden inside me, your eyes, your smile.
Charming and haunting.

An unwritten future in need of you.
A new revolution in need of its Wild Cat.
Graceful reawaken emotions.

You, generous you, able to challenge me.

2009-04-07T14:12:00.000-07:00

THEIR GOLDEN CAGE

Bonnie Parker: What would you do if some miracle happened and we could walk out of here tomorrow morning and start all over again clean? No record and nobody after us, huh?

Clyde Barrow: Well, uh, I guess I'd do it all different. First off, I wouldn't live in the same state where we pull our jobs. We'd live in another state. We'd stay clean there and then when we'd take a bank, we'd go into the other state.

Dialogues taken from "Bonnie and Clyde"

Arthur Penn, 1967

2009-04-06T09:24:00.000-07:00

ENCORE ET TOUJOURS

Un matin de printemps.
Notre premier voyage à Paris.
Nos jours heureux en 1998.

Une petite chambre d'hotel,
pas très loin des champs Elysées.
Nos nuits, nos jours, notre amour.

Tes questions,
sur les marches du Sacré Coeur.
Mes silences.

Notre possible retour en Espagne,
tes questions,
encore et toujours.

Nos doutes, nos craintes.
Loin de nous, nos pertes.

Et notre amour,
encore et toujours.

Un matin d'avril, à Brighton.
Loin de toi, loin de tous.
Mes silences sans toi.
Sans questions.
Sans doutes.
Sans amour.

La Rose Rouge à mes côtés.
Mon ami imaginaire.
Celui qui me parle encore de toi.
Et ce souvient de ce matin de printemps.
Encore et toujours.

2009-04-03T14:41:00.000-07:00

HER CARMINE MOODS

Blinding Red Blooded Carmine.
Full of sinful promises.

Heartache in her breathing.
Darkness in her smile.
Salted tears taste of sorrow.
That unsolved mystery of hers.
The all or nothing days,
in a lost highway strip joint.

Anaphylic-shock reaction.
Carminic acid overdose.
A short story in the making,
with a single coloured ending:
A Red Carmine suitcase,
a symbolic getaway to her new life.

A perfect Hollywood ending.

2009-04-02T06:47:00.000-07:00

DEATHPROOF:
ROLL CREDITS

Stuntman Mike(sitting on his haunches):
"The woods are lovely
dark and deep
And I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep"
Did you hear me, Butterfly, miles to go before you sleep.

2009-04-01T02:17:00.000-07:00

DEATHPROOF EXHIBIT(C)

The melodic car crash opus was lifeless without its remaining 6 minutes. But Redrose felt the climatic peak of this 8 minutes video had to be shown.

Just a (death)proof of his good (or bad) faith.

Click on the picture above or this link to see the video sample.

2009-03-17T14:21:00.000-07:00

DEATHPROOF EXHIBIT(B)

"I was wrong. Cos they couldn't turn me on
Most men fear me, they say I was much too cold.
I didn't mean to kill the groove
They call me Regina"

Lyrics from "Regina" by Lifelike

2009-03-15T15:41:00.000-07:00

DEATHPROOF EXHIBIT(A)

"To send me blue valentines
like half forgotten dreams
like a pebble in my shoe as I walk these streets
and the ghost of your memory
is the thistle in the kiss and the burgler
that can break a roses neck
it's the tattooed broken promise
that I hide beneath my sleeve
and I see you every time I turn my back"

Lyrics from "Blue Valentines" by Tom Waits

2009-03-14T14:59:00.000-07:00

2009-03-12T13:39:00.000-07:00

HERE'S LOOKING AT YOU KID

Early March, somewhere south Great Britania.
A colourless thursday.
Breakfast on the seafront, tea and cigarettes.
Seen greater moments, greater places.
All's a bit too slow now.
Too quiet and too thoughtful.

Sam's injecting good vibes.
Bright star and Wild Cat.
In her eyes, a city on fire.
A sensual Heatwave.
Love that Wild Cat.

2009-03-11T03:29:00.000-07:00

MY NIGHTMARE WITHOUT YOU

Paul Gallier: I didn't think you were ready, but you are. I knew it when I saw you with HIM.

Irena Gallier: Who? Oliver?

Paul Gallier: You want to fuck him, don't you? You dream about fucking him! Your whole body burns, it burns all along your nerves, in your mouth, your breasts... you go wet between your legs.

Irena Gallier: Stop it!

Paul Gallier: Every time it happens... you tell yourself it's love. But it isn't. It's blood. And death. You can't escape your nightmare without me, and I can't escape my nightmare without you. I've waited a long time for you.

2009-03-10T14:07:00.000-07:00

ONLY THE MOMENT

This time he is close to her,
he speaks to her.
She welcomes him without surprise.
They are without memories, without plans.
Time builds itself painlessly around them.
Their only landmarks are the flavor of the moment they are living
and the markings on the walls.

Is it the same day? He doesn't know.
they shall go on like this on countless walks in which an unspoken trust, an unadulterated trust will grow between them,
without memories or plans.
Up to the moment where he feels
-ahead of them- a barrier.

From Chris Marker's "La jetée"

2009-03-05T12:27:00.000-08:00

COMMERCIAL BREAK

2009-03-02T13:52:00.000-08:00

THE BEAUTIFUL ROSE

At times, one needs to take distance and jump into the beauty of simplicity.
Words can deceive by being too harsh. They sometimes lack precision.
Images are the pure reflexion of the wordless.
They can be described as the end of the real.
A precise pictural moment stuck in time.
When an image has the power to make you feel the grand magnificence of a moment then words have no reason to be.
But when words marry those images and allow the real to transcend.
Then you're close to a state of grace.
Redrose knew beauty was lying in between the complex layers of images and words.
A hidden territory close to his heart.
"Words and images are our only hope to transcend", he thought while thinking about those friends, he missed so much, those mavericks, from that southern spanish town, who saw as much as Redrose did, the beauty in those images and those words.
To those friends.

2009-03-01T13:39:00.000-08:00

JUST ONE LAST DANCE

A dance hall, not a dance floor.
Girlish hand moves.
Candy perfumed Hair.
Bobby Kennedy lookalikes.
Tuxedos and cuban cigars.
Pearly white smiles.
Praying Mantises.
At the top of their game
Decadent fortune tellers.
Wall street workholics.
Charm of the size of a Swiss Bank Account.
Smile while you can,
Financial crash is just around the corner.
Dance while you can
Your days are counted.

2009-02-26T15:47:00.001-08:00

SHAMPOO

Jackie Shawn: You must be a very important executive.

Sid Roth: Well, whatever I am, I could get you whatever you want.

Jackie Shawn: Hm? [points to George]

Jackie Shawn: Well, what I really want is to suck his cock

2009-02-20T07:33:00.000-08:00

COMMERCIAL BREAK

2009-02-19T15:07:00.000-08:00

IT STARTS WITH DESIRE

"Desire for an idea is like bait. When you’re fishing, you have to have patience. You bait your hook, and then you wait. The desire is the bait that pulls those fish in - those ideas.

The beautiful thing is that when you catch one fish that you love, even if it’s a little fish - a fragment of an idea - that fish will draw in other fish, and they’ll hook onto it. Then you’re on your way. Soon there are more and more and more fragments, and the whole thing emerges.
But it starts with desire."

David Lynch in "Catching the Big Fish"

2009-02-15T10:04:00.000-08:00

ON HIGH AND BLUE TOMORROWS

Nikki: Are you enjoying yourself, Freddie?

Freddie Howard: Well... There is a vast network, right? An ocean of possibilities. I like dogs. I used to raise rabbits. I've always loved animals. Their nature. How they think. I have seen dogs reason their way out of problems. Watched them think through the trickiest situations. Do you have a couple of bucks I could borrow? I've got this damn landlord.

Laura Dern and Harry Den Stanton on the shoot of "On high and Blue tomorrow"

2009-02-13T05:18:00.000-08:00

A BED OF ROSES

"Oh how much more doth beautie beautious seems,
By that Sweet ornament which truth doth give,
The Rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that Sweet odor,which doth in it live:
The Canker blooms have full as deep as dye,
As the perfumed tincture of the Roses,
Hang on such thornes,and play as wantonly,
When summer's breath their masked buds discloses:
But for their virtue only is their show,
They live unwoo'd, and unrespected fade, Die to themselves .
Sweet Roses doe not so,
Of their sweet deathes, are sweetest odors made:
And so of you, beautious and lovely youth,
When that shall vade, by verse distils your truth."

Sonnet by William Shakespeare.

2009-02-08T14:23:00.000-08:00

SING WHILE YOU CAN

"I would like to have praised a loving god and all his loving creation. To have seen hosts of translucent angels ascending spinning shafts of golden light into the deep blue caverns of heaven. Hell, they'd all have these massive titties, wouldn't they?"

Robert Downey Jr, "The Singing Detective"

2009-02-03T04:10:00.000-08:00

PROTECT ME FROM MYSELF (OUTRO)

2009-01-31T08:04:00.000-08:00

PROTECT ME FROM MYSELF (INTRO)

Travis Bickle: I'll tell you why. I think you're a lonely person. I drive by this place a lot and I see you here. I see a lot of people around you. And I see all these phones and all this stuff on your desk. It means nothing. Then when I came inside and I met you, I saw in your eyes and I saw the way you carried yourself that you're not a happy person. And I think you need something. And if you want to call it a friend, you can call it a friend.

Betsy: Are you gonna be my friend?

Travis Bickle: Yeah.

2009-01-28T10:51:00.001-08:00

KILL ALL ROMANTICS

So many strips of life torn to pieces by time.
The absence of the loved ones. Her absence.
Distance as a recurring point of internal division.
Unchallenged unsatisfaction.

Sweet memory bliss, moments of joy.
Her smile, her hand, her smell.
That very dark hair of hers, shaken by the wind.
The beauty of existence itself.
She was all that to Redrose and more.

The meaning of it all.

That distant love feeling fades away.
The need to let go takes over.
And the fatal conclusion follows.

Tears can't explain. Tears won't explain.

2009-01-24T13:14:00.000-08:00

BE MY EMBRACE (ONE ANSWER)

Light a match,
bring the flame over to your eye
Slipping past, you won't see me before you die
Breaking down our sleep, my head's still aching
This war is killing you and all around me

Wide as the rivers run
Still got time for someone
Be my embrace now

Be my embrace now

All lyrics taken from "Embrace" by PNAU

2009-01-24T11:04:00.000-08:00

BE MY EMBRACE (ONE SHOUT)

On a night like tonight
you saved my life
Red and green
wet shoes slip on refracted lights
Running faster than my legs can take me
Shouting louder than my lungs allow me

Wide as the rivers run
Still got time for someone
Be my embrace now
Be my embrace now

2009-01-09T10:43:00.000-08:00

MISHIMA's LOTUS FLOWER

"By means of microscopic observation and astronomical projection the lotus flower can become the foundation for an entire theory of the universe and an agent whereby we may perceive the Truth. And first we must know that each of the petals has eighty-four thousand veins and that each vein gives eighty-four thousand lights"

Yukio Mishima "The Priest of Shiga Temple and His Love" in Death in Midsummer, and Other Stories (1966)

2008-12-13T07:29:00.000-08:00

THE RED CAR DRIVE

Wheels sticking to the warm tarmac.
The never ending road. Full darkness.
Two rings of fire to guide him.
Next stop neverland. Quick left turn.
For a short moment, the lights of the valley on the left side of his wounded face.
Red, greens and yellows.
Engine roars like a wild beast.

"Drive away from the lights"

Noise's too loud.
Clock ticks as fast as the beat of his red blooded heart.

"The Yellow line, follow the fucking yellow lined road".

Shadowy figure rises. In the distance, closer and closer.

"Need to push that brake. Fast"

Bourbon mixed with E, flowing in his veins.
Time's broken=Slo-mo moves.

-------[Clutch brakes down.
The wheels of the beast spitting smoke and fire.

LAST desperate attempt to ease the pain.

"Stop the colors, stop them now"

Eyes closed, car stopped. Afraid to see the truth?
Smell of burned rubber and smoker's sweat sliding along his cheek. Summer hell in San Fernando.

Her figure crosses the rings of fire.

High heels sticking to the warm tarmac.
The never ending beauty. Full Color.
Two green glowing eyes to charm him.
Next stop loveland. Quick move out of the red beast.
For a short moment, the reflection of her short dress in his wounded eyes.
Red, greens and yellows.
Heart pounds like a wild beast.

Redrose's interpretation of Alex Prager's Picture "The Big Valley"

2008-12-04T07:28:00.000-08:00

PATTY HEARST

"Oh Lord, Patty! Oh, Lord!"

2008-11-30T15:04:00.000-08:00

DJ WHAT?

Shaky BEATS
HUGE playground
Fascinating, Dazzling
DIRTY CORRIDORS
never ending CORRIDORS
LASER glows
ALL around HIM
A 1000 faces
in the DARK
GREEN LASER SHINES
D&B
FUCKS HIM UP
BIG TIME
Not to worry
Stay HIGH
DJ HYPE
mike in hand
POETRY on
the DANCE FLOOR
NOISY BUGGER
FAshioN VicTIMS
STUDIED
TRASHY LOokS
What THE HELL waS ReDRosE
Doing There?
ALL's fucked UP***

Friday night at FABRIC , london, pitching a film script on the dance floor.

2008-11-24T04:38:00.000-08:00

IN CHAINS, NEVER IN LOVE

it DOesn't MATTER where you go, DOes IT?

2008-11-07T14:05:00.000-08:00

SO RED THE ROSE

They both got up in the forest of dead roses and moved towards the stricken castle. They walked and staggered in fine formation toward the moat. The water was cool clear blue. They passed through the gates and up the wide marble stairs to the tall lone turret on top...where they could see all the way home.

Quoted from Sydney Pollack's "Castle Keep"

2008-11-06T06:42:00.000-08:00

ELLE (L) UNDER THE FIREWORKS

Redrose went back to his blog. The night lights made his heart smile once again. Bright lights, small city, figures burning under the rain and her face in the close distance. Sweetness and charm in her smile, drops of water running down Redrose cheeks. Her boyfriend in the distance, Red lights in Redrose eyes.

Redrose's 5th of November in Lewis, watching her eyes shine under the fireworks.

2008-10-16T16:08:00.001-07:00

DIAL M FOR MOORE

At the moment people who are using shamanism and magic to shape our culture are advertisers. Rather than try to wake people up, their shamanism is used as an opiate to tranquilize people, to make people more manipulative. Their magic box of television, their magic words, their jingles can cause everybody in the country to be thinking the same words and have the same banal thoughts all at the exact same moment.

Alan Moore the magician and the shaman

2008-10-16T02:51:00.000-07:00

YOU FREUD, ME JANE?

Then I dreamed I was in a huge
theatre where one of my motion
pictures was being shown.
But the theatre was absolutely
empty, not a full seat anywhere.
On one wall was a gigantic
mirror, and when I looked into it,
I didn't see my own face...

Alfred Hitchcock Presents Episode 69: The Three Dreams of Mr. Findlater (1957)

2008-10-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

FAYE FADES AWAY

Jake Gittes:There's something black in the green part of your eye.

Evelyn Mulwray: Oh, that. It's a... it's a flaw in the iris.

Jake Gittes: Flaw?

Evelyn Mulwray: Yes, it's a sort of birthmark

2008-10-11T12:51:00.000-07:00

A LOVELEY WAY TO SPEND AN EVENING

"What is it that you fear?", she whispered, while looking straight into Redrose's eyes. Fear, he thought, was not of his concern, and was in any case related to the situation he was living or had lived with her. It was time that worried him more than anything else. Clocks. The flow of the river.

So Redrose thought he should think twice before answering. Slow it down, don't rush. Don't make it hard on both of you.

"Nothing" he replied back. A predictible answer. But how could Redrose explain? He and his notion of indirect faithfulness, of being there for a few only. Unable to embrace humanity in its whole, he had made a choice. A choice based on a simple fact: be there for the ones you care. And Redrose could only care for a few. Very few.

She was one of them. An important one. But she, fragile she, expected something else. And that something he could not give. How much longer would social codes make her suffer? Her past, her losses, her betrayals, her bleeding heart didn't help. And the word love, abused, violated to such extreme we don't even know when and how to use it. Our mistake, underrated mistake.

Her request was a projection in time of the intangible.

Redrose was looking at her. "We waste these moments by discussing a future that might not be, always one step ahead of ourselves." And after a short pause, while her eyes melted in the darkness of the room he concluded, "This is now and this is us. Future has no reason to be"

2008-10-10T10:20:00.000-07:00

VOCALE POLLY MAGGOO

There was no need to shout. Redrose was upset, very upset and could not write a note on the blog about his friend Polly as he was planning to. So he thought he should hang that picture anyhow, just to convince himself to take it all as a joke.

Confused about this silly note on the blog?

So was Redrose on that Friday afternoon...

2008-10-10T02:13:00.000-07:00

AND ON THY CHEEK
A FADING ROSE

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful, a faery's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

Excerpt from John kaets' "La Belle Dame Sans Merci"

2008-10-07T13:41:00.000-07:00

GIVE MY LOVE TO THE SUNRISE

Redrose was spending another rainy afternoon in his new town. He was quietly walking back home when a few drops of water started knocking on his head, hammering with grace his confused thoughts. For a moment, words he was once trying to forget, came back to life. Very specific words, almost meaningless on their own but so powerful when united. "We could have gone off together" words said.

Something was still haunting him. Another blurred piece of the puzzle that composed his broken life came into the light at the very same moment his mouth whispered "together". His cinematic memory was still playing him some painful tricks, but at this stage fo the play handling pain was not an issue. For Redrose, it was just like opening an umbrella on a rainy day.

Elsa: After that I knew I couldn't trust him. He was mad. He had to be shot.

Michael: And What about me?

Elsa: We could have gone off together.
Michael:Into the sunrise. You and me? Or you and Grisby?
Elsa: I love you.

Michael:One who follows his nature keeps his original nature in the end.But haven´t you heard ever of something better to follow?

Elsa: No.

Dialogue from "The Lady from Shanghai", 1948, directed by Orson Welles

2008-10-04T07:12:00.000-07:00

IN ME TOO THE WAVE RISES

Virginia Wolf's words took a sudden meaning while Redrose watched the picture of that blue sea. The loneliness of the soul, the desperate search, the commitment in order to survive.

In me too the wave rises. It Swells; it arches its back. I am aware, once more, of a new desire. Something rising beneath me like the proud horse whose rider first spurs and then pulls him back.

Virginia Wolf's "The Waves"

2008-10-03T16:26:00.001-07:00

SIR ALFRED'S FLOWER SHOP

I've always dreamed of
a murder in a tulip field.
Two characters: the killer
behind the girl,
his victim. As his shadow
creeps up on her, she
turns and screams.
Immediately, we pan
down the struggling
feet in the tulip field.
One petal fills the
screen, and suddenly a
drop of blood splashes
all over it.

Alfred Hitchcock in François Truffaut, "Hitchcock Interviews" Touchstone Edition, Simon & Schuster, New York, 1983.

2008-10-02T14:23:00.000-07:00

ANOTHER KIND OF FLOWERS

Eight and a half mesmerizing flowers.
The Valley Girls.

http://www.alexprager.com/

2008-10-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

BROKEN FLOWERS

The first time he saw those roses in front of that white fence, clashing against that blue sky he felt strangely moved, almost aroused. A simple stripped composition.

Then the colors melted and took various forms. Shadows won over. The flowers turned into bright faces. Still, their beauty moved and aroused.

2008-09-28T10:10:00.001-07:00

TO THE UNFINISHED BEAUTY

As many others, Redrose still wondered why that epic graphic novel Big Numbers never made it till the end. Alan Moore and Bill Sienkiewicz, both misunderstood. Forever lost in NeverLand.

2008-09-17T14:53:00.000-07:00

FADING FLOWERS

A new story should start with the end of the story that preceded it. In this case, the end is marked by an image: the picture of some fading flowers in a garden. Roses to be more specific. Motionless companions which were once the reflection of his solitude.

This is the final sequence of that script:

SEC 37- EXT DAY- REDROSE'S HOUSE

General wide shot. REDROSE packs a last box into the car. He looks back at the house and hands the key to the landlore. They shake hands. The landlore starts walking towards the main gate and opens it.

The car drives away between some trees while the camera pans down revealing the dying Roses next to the pool.

End credits.

But Redrose had another ending in mind. The true ending of his story, the one that would link him to the new story:

THE NEW STORY

The new story starts on a computer screen, while this man, named Redrose, decides to write a blog. End and beginning take place on the same day but could not be more different. Redrose do not know where to start. He improvises and writes, almost on the go some words that come to his mind: waste, alone, time, silence, past, betrayal... He needs to put some order in those words. Right now he can't. So he stops writing and starts remembering the important sequences of the day: the last glimpse at the garden before leaving the house, the phone call to his neighbour friend, Dick Laurent, and a goodbye to Polly while hiding behind his sunglasses. He remembers abandoning friendship at his best.

But Redrose did not feel sad. Nor happy. He had become almost emotionless. Unable to accept other beings emotions, he was only able to express his own through images, through montage, through the only faithful lover he had: Cinéma.

But Cinéma and flowers could not be the answer to everything. Time was running out and Redrose could not keep on avoiding his fate, so he decided to leave in order to come back with a better knowledge of love and emotions. Just like a little prince would do. But deep down inside of him, he knew he wouldn't come back. Still, the images of those flowers haunted him. He had to see the big picture again in order to make up his mind once and for all. So he did... or was about to do at the moment he was writing this blog. Uncertain future which would, hopefully, open up his heart again and allow him to go back to his flowers.