Category: Uncategorized (Page 196 of 1086)

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‘A novice police officer assigned to watch over a refugee group tries to figure out whether the refugees have been framed for terrorism—and where the real killers are lurking. Technically, this is an accurate description of the plot of David Musgrave’s debut novel, Lambda. Sounds like a pretty straightforward potboiler, right? But from its first page, Lambda is up to something weirder and more unwieldy, ditching a linear narrative and setting the story in an alternate-universe Britain where you can get in trouble with the cops for damaging a talking toothbrush.

‘In Lambda’s bizarro-world 2019, advances have been made in artificial intelligence to the point that “sentient objects” have been granted rights, including said toothbrush, aka the ToothFriendIV. Meanwhile, the police test out an AI system that will both accuse someone of a crime and go ahead and assassinate them, although the government prefers to call this mitigation, neutralization, deactivation, or closure of agency. It may sound like a Philip K. Dick pastiche, but Musgrave’s debut is more ambitious than the tropes it borrows, arranging them into original, arresting literary sci-fi.

‘Lambda follows a cop named Cara Gray as she grows all too familiar with the official jargon for murder. She joins the force after she abruptly swaps an activist’s life on a left-wing commune for detective work, then winds up enmeshed in a shadowy governmental program involving a rogue cybercrime haven in the desert called the Republic of Severax. Her personal life is as messy as her professional entanglements. She dates a misanthropic coder named Peter who obsesses over two things, neither of which are her: a talking toothbrush and Severax. (Musgrave shades in a fine portrait of a specific strain of dirtbag techie with Peter, whose main personality trait is interrupting documentary films to add his two cents.)

‘That’s a lot of plot to follow, and Musgrave’s stylistic choices are as byzantine as his narrative ones. The writing itself is crisp, bold, and proudly odd. The opening EyeNarrator passage indicates that the story we’re reading is software-generated prose, and Musgrave hints at this not-quite-human narration through conspicuously strange language choices. The characters’ blood pressure levels are mentioned, and movements are described in strangely technical language: “Carolyn revolved 12 degrees anticlockwise” one sentence reads. Another: “Cara’s eye saccades took in the woman’s highly reflective brown irises.” This book may have set the world record for usage of the word “saccade,” which appears with surprising frequency, considering it’s something nobody ever says.’ — Kate Knibbs

 

David Musgrave @ greengrassi
‘Lambda’ reviewed @ Foreward
David Musgrave’s fantastical Britain makes affecting political commentary
The Summer’s Best Read Is About AI, Surveillance, and Tiny Aliens
Buy ‘Lambda’

 

David Musgrave Lambda
Europa Editions

‘Whoever the lambdas might be, and wherever they really come from, they’re already here among us.

‘Outwardly alien arrivals from a distant sea, the lambdas are genetically human. They slip quietly into low- to middle-income jobs and appear to want nothing more than to be left alone. For Cara Gray, they are first a haunting presence in her otherwise ordinary childhood, then the inscrutable target of her police surveillance work.

‘When a bomb goes off at a school, a nebulous group of lambda extremists claims responsibility for the attack—but how could a vulnerable community of tiny aquatic humans, barely visible in society and seemingly indifferent to their own exploitation, be capable of something so horrific?

‘In Cara’s world a toothbrush can be legally alive, a quantum computer has the power to decide who dies, and a government employee made of slime mould protein needs help to relieve his neuroses. As Cara’s relationship with the lambdas deepens, she must decide whether to accept her place in a pattern of technology, violence and deceit, or to take action of her own.’ — EE

Excerpt

Extras

Book Trailer: LAMBDA by David Musgrave

LUHRING AUGUSTINE – David Musgrave

 

 

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Logan Berry: I’d like to start with general questions before digging into NO TIGER. How did you first get into writing?

Mika: I first got into writing in high school, I had never really cared much for English class until I was like, 16-17? Really, my first love of writing came from fanfiction and sci-fi. My dad had this old bookshelf in our basement full of old 70s and 80s military sci-fi he was always pushing on me. Shit like Starship Troopers and Armor. I was enamored with guys lugging around big weapons in faraway planets, etc. An appreciation for literature – then writing itself – came when I had Ulysses by Joyce pushed on me by a particularly favorite teacher. After that I became obsessed, I read the book twice through and couldn’t get enough of it. Then I started writing these dumb little micropoems on impulse in notebooks. That’s all it was for about a year, and then I discovered the soon-to-be disaster that was ‘alt lit’ like Tao Lin and Roggenbuck. Pending self-destruction aside, alt lit showed me there was more literature “could be” than Shakespearan sonnets and such. I made a Tumblr and began posting my small poems and actually got a small following going for a while. I even released a chapbook at one point (it was bad, never bringing it back). Ever since I’ve never been able to stop writing, it’s like a compulsion. I tried stopping several times, actively, but it never stuck. I’d always come back. I write because I have to, not because I want to

LB: How did growing up in Indiana shape your work? Do you think it still influences your work?

M: I’m not sure. A lot of my earlier work, which isn’t really present or available anymore, dealt a lot with that small town ennui that overtakes you where I’m from. A lot of cigarettes outside of empty lots while listening to coyotes in the distance. Overwhelming restlessness to be found in a forgotten town. I think the lasting effect is less on my actual work now and more on how I view literature and run Surfaces. I’ve no patience for academia or people with disgusting pretense to them. The random freaks you’d meet at 2am in the only gas station open that late are more “my people” than someone comfortably in an MFA or whatever. Nobody in those types of places really reads “literature” very much, and I’ve always felt compelled to both write and run Surfaces targeted more towards the people that aren’t already embedded in literature, don’t have a stake. I want to write stuff that excites somebody that doesn’t read every new issue of the Paris Review.

 

MIKA @ X/Twitter
SURFACES
The Guns Going Bang Is Sick: The Experimental Hyper-Violence of MIKA
MIKA interviewed @ Full Stop
Buy ‘NO TIGER’

 

MIKA NO TIGER
Apocalypse Party

‘A girl is under fire from terrible psychic weaponry. Lizard women fornicate under corroded skylines. Gore & bodypower is the present order. Identity fragmentation within forever violence. Evil bodies cannibalized in the space of hostile entities. NO TIGER is sending urgent transmissions from the infinite battlefield. It wants to communicate something to you. Standby.

‘Mika is a trans experimental writer from Indiana. She tweets about blood and military weaponry @coyote_actuaI and runs the online literature project Surfaces.cx.’ — Apocalypse Party

Excerpt

Extras

 

 

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‘”Horror is the place where I found people were talking about the things that felt honest to me. Everything else felt like it was about other people having a nice time,” says Hogan, who earned a Master of Fine Arts from Brown University in 2016.

‘”It’s about people outside of a thing or experiencing something completely different from what people around them experience,” they continue, particularly noting the genre’s effectiveness in sharing trans stories. “Especially body horror. Something’s happening to your body, and no one else fucking understands. In fact, they think you’re crazy.”

‘In One or Several Deserts, the Oregon native imagines industrial pig farming, the Greek myth of Pasiphaë, party game boar torture, and shame-riddled evening rituals. The grotesque situations reveal daunting truths of human experience, and positive outcomes are few and far between.

‘”Even the happy endings in horror are the worst,” they laugh. “What’s the happy ending? Texas Chain Saw Massacre: The happy ending is that she’s not dead. Now she has to deal with everything.”

Nevertheless, Hogan consistently depicts an ultimately hopeful survival instinct in their harsh, intimate tales. As the writer places characters, human or not, in threatening situations, they still attempt to reclaim their own autonomy.

‘”Watching somebody choose something, I think, reminds us that we also can choose things,” they say. “We can opt in or opt out but it is actually our decision. It doesn’t get made for us. … It’s very empowering, especially for someone who once thought they had no options, had no choices.”‘ — Laiken Neumann

 

CARTER ST. HOGAN SITE
“cat’, by Carter St. Hogan
“Everything is so much grosser than anyone talks about”
“One or Several Deserts’ @ goodreads
Buy ‘One or Several Deserts’

 

Carter St. Hogan One or Several Deserts
11:11 Press

‘Queer, strange, grotesque: eight intimate fictions give voice to bodies at the margins as they yearn and claw at their own flesh. Some of these bodies flicker in and out of reality; some find rebirth in a sentient disease; some consume the bowels of their lovers; others wrestle with sexual awakening at the hands of a giant stone in the wide American prairie. Bristling with defiance, cruel but tender, “One or Several Deserts” bends reality with a logic all its own.’ — 11:11

‘ONE OR SEVERAL DESERTS IS THE DEBUT OF AN EXTRAORDINARILY GIFTED WRITER WHO MANAGES BOTH SURFACE AND DEPTH IN WAYS FEW OTHERS EVEN TRY. HERE IS SOME OF THE MOST DAZZLING PROSE I HAVE READ IN QUITE SOME TIME. WITH THIS COLLECTION, CARTER ST. HOGAN EMERGES AS A LITERARY ARTIST OF SIGNIFICANT ORIGINALITY AND ACCOMPLISHMENT’. – GARIELLE LUTZ

‘A STARTLING DEBUT FULL OF STORIES THAT REFUSE TO BE POLITE AND THAT CHALLENGE WHAT YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW ABOUT GENRE, ABOUT FICTION, AND EVEN ABOUT PROSE ITSELF. CARTER ST. HOGAN PUTS THE MAGIC BACK INTO MAGICAL REALISM AND THEN CRACKS IT BACK OPEN AND TURNS IT INSIDE OUT AND LEAVES ITS GLORIOUS INSIDES STREAMING IN THE WIND OF THEIR WORDS. TRANSGRESSIVE, SACRILEGIOUS, TOUCHING ON A UNIQUE AND PREVIOUSLY UNKNOWN FLESHY GNOSTICISM: THIS IS A ROADMAP FOR WHERE THE FANTASTIC HAS YET TO GO.’ – BRIAN EVENSON

Excerpt

Little Skin Bag

Little Skin Bag stood on the stoop, trying to shove the ghost back into her mouth. It was a slippery ghost. It squeaked its tail out of her mouth, picked a piece of spinach from her teeth, yawned.

“Fuck off,” hissed Little Skin Bag.

Inside the apartment she could hear Cubist spinning disco classics. Shadows of arms akimbo splashed onto the covered windowpanes; every so often a strobe light flashed pink. The ghost laughed in her face with late-night tuna breath. “Too late,” declared the ghost. If the ghost had knuckles, it would be cracking them one by one. “Go home and smoke from your roof until your lungs get so black you deflate and fall to your small, pitiful death.”

“No. This was a butt-dial,” said Little Skin Bag. “Metaphorically.”

“The world will be grateful if you never enter this lame shindig,” sang the ghost.

This was not going to be like last time. She was not going to freak out. She was not going to get deleted from address books, or email chains, or Instagram feeds, or whatever. She would not be a pariah. “Stop freaking me out,” she said. “Merry Wife will be here. She likes me.”

“Merry Wife,” spat the ghost.

“I think she’ll leave him,” said Little Skin Bag.

“Really.”

“You didn’t see her face last time,” said Little Skin Bag.

“You are so cute,” said the ghost. “So cute and so ugly. Not even your mother loves your cute ugly mug.”

“Shut up,” said Little Skin Bag. “They’re coming.”

The front door wrenched open. Lips and Right Tit. Black liquid spilled from their red plastic cups. They wore leopard-print dresses tight enough that Little Skin Bag could see pubic bones pronouncing themselves between two pairs of healthy, full thighs. Their mouths were laughing.

“Oh thank God,” said Lips, her trademark shade smeared all over her teeth. She swatted playfully at Little Skin Bag’s arm. “That suede! Ugh. What took you so long!”

“Totally,” said Little Skin Bag. She held up her six-pack, which had by now dripped a lake onto the concrete step.

“Oh, I love swill!”

Right Tit grabbed her by the collar and yanked her inside.

“Where’s Left Tit?” said Little Skin Bag in the foyer. She blinked four times. It felt like one time too many.

“Stop blinking so much,” said the ghost into her ear hair.

“You know her,” said Right Tit. “She’d rather watch documentaries about fish. Besides,” she added, rubbing her right nipple, “there’s only room at this party for one twin, you know?”

Lips nodded, nose scrunched. Little Skin Bag tried not to cringe. She really hated when Right Tit got too drunk. “And Merry Wife?” she asked, going for nonchalant.

“Oh sweetheart,” laughed Right Tit. “Merry Wife might not even come, something about Gutting Man being over disco.”

Lips rolled her eyes. “He’ll show up for the Boar, though.”

“There’s a Boar at this party?” said Little Skin Bag.

“Totally,” said Right Tit.

Lips patted her cheek. “Merry Wife knows where you are. Soon we’ll bring out the Boar and you can face fuck that.”

Little Skin Bag flushed an ugly color; the ghost rubbed itself on her eczema. She scratched at the patch and a few flakes fell loose onto her shoulders. A roar sounded from the kitchen.

“Oh!” cried Lips and Right Tit.

“I’m gonna go find Cubist,” said Little Skin Bag.

“Chill.” They nodded.

(cont.)

Extras

EXCLUSIVE Interview with Carter St. Hogan

Creekbed Carter Hogan – Burn For You [NPR Tiny Desk Contest 2021]

 

 

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‘Aina Hunter’s haunted novel, Charlotte and the Chickenman, is a David Lynchian grotesque that unfolds in a surreality that hovers between dream and nightmare. Charlotte, the protagonist, oscillates between realities and identities throughout the book. Her fragmented nature is reflected in the world she inhabits that fractures into vignettes in different spaces and times. She moves between the Haiti of the near-future (2048 to be precise) and moments in her past that span from her time at school to her inauspicious birth. The book reads like a fever dream fed by the anxiety of today: festering with horrible election results, an infectious virus, as well as maternal and/or ecological anxieties.

‘Race, sexuality, and gender are inextricably entwined in this book. Hunter is masterful in capturing the nuances of these identities, depicting them in across a full spectrum rather than the binary that most discourses center upon (i.e. black/white, gay/straight). Charlotte, whose name and age change throughout the story, is a light-skinned black woman who is bisexual and sometimes is described as masculine and others as feminine. The fact that she changes identities mirrors the fact that she lives in a nebulous world in-between the extremes of a binary. The intersectionality of Charlotte’s identities truly capture what it is to not fit in squarely in any part of the constructed world. Shades of skin tone are seen fluctuating in the characters but also in the landscape. Parts of her world become ‘white’ spaces or ‘black’ spaces; ‘female’ or ‘male’. The surreal nature of Hunter’s prose allows the reader to explore these spaces as someone would who does not ‘belong.’

‘Another common thread is pedophobia; a generalized anxiety, or sometimes even revulsion, towards children. At different moments, we see Charlotte struggle with her sexuality and being attracted to women in the same moments that she is aborting or losing a child. Several times, the fetus or embryo is referred to as a homunculus, an alchemical miniature but fully-formed human being. Like a golem, this is a constructed man used in folklore to illustrate an aberration of man’s creation and to remind us about the dangers of ‘playing God.’ While not inherently evil, there is something nefarious about this creature and the connotation is important as Charlotte contemplates her baby or the idea of a baby. At one point, the characters discuss the fetus as a “hybrid tumor” or a “kind of sex tumor . . . [that] develops hair and fingernails as it grows . . . [and] [s]ometimes part of an eye or a tooth in random places.” The thought of babies, unwanted babies, and gestation as a cancer is nothing new but, through the unorthodox narrative, Hunter gives us different angles of this thought. In this novel, we see the blood but we also see the magic.’ — Jesi Buell

 

Alina Hunter @ instagram
EATYTE: a Pataphysical Companion to Chickenman
Haiti and the Homunculus
Charlotte and the Chickenman @ goodreads
Buy ‘Charlotte and the Chickenman’

 

Aina Hunter Charlotte and the Chickenman
Whisk(e)y Tit

‘It’s November 2, 2059 in Baltimore and Charlotte-Noa Tibitt, the downwardly mobile, adult daughter of a popular HelloCast lifestyle coach, feels like death. A few months back Charlotte and her Eurindigenous girlfriend scored a sweet subsidized apartment in a building chock full of fellow queer-radical-feminist animal rights activists. But when an unspeakable right-wing candidate again wins the US presidency, Charlotte seeks refuge in a luxury roof-top hotel bar and life begins to unravel.

‘So now it’s time to stop mourning. Get back on the bus, make a plan, start over.

‘All this on a screaming planet divided into ethno-states mostly controlled by South Africa’s ruling Economic Freedom Party and their right wing, anti-black opposition – the Eurin supremacists of the New Broederband.

‘Charlotte could probably use some trauma therapy, but first a quick trip to Haiti for a medical thing. And while she’s there, maybe she can find some comfort at the receiving end of a controversial reparative food justice initiative, which may or may not be sanctioned by New Caricom’s shadow government.’ — Whisk(e)y Tit

Excerpt

Extras

Black Writers Read S4 E3: Aina Hunter

 

 

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‘Every book has an inherent design that searches for an author/publisher to realize it1 true to form. 1/ 4 i am ĐNA is a stopgap draft of the first ¼ of an overarching work-in-progress tentatively entitled U/X, a proposed 64-bit oracular “user guide of changes.” In the event that the author dies or the computer/software being used2 crashes irreversibly before the book’s completion, this hard-coded 16-bit blueprint can serve to reverse engineer at least the 1st quarter of U/X, which, in a holographic sense, also contains bits3 of the whole (the future book with ISBN 978-1-940853-88-8).

‘In the formulation of this quartered precursor (with ISBN 978-1-940853-22-2), the author (in8 iĐ) pushed the software (Adobe InDesign, referred to within as i.Đ.) to the limits of its capabilities,4 to the extent that it kept crashing and the source files were corrupted beyond repair. Some of what you see in this document is a result of this software stress-testing. In addition to being subconsciously indoctrinated by the i.Đ. software, it should also be noted that the biological being of in8 iĐ suffers from Ménière’s syndrome (and perhaps also a rare form of undiagnosed clanging disorder5 and/or numeric synesthesia),6 which afflicts them with near-constant vertigo, brain fog, vestibular migraines, tinnitus, and deafness in their right ear, disorienting them, but also perhaps enabling them to channel transmissions that “normal” humans don’t hear (or so in8 iĐ thinks… obviously they are far from a reliable narrator). Perhaps a “dog-8-my-homework” excuse, but this is why 1/ 4 i am ĐNA could not be actualized in readable, grammatically correct English. In effect, it is an as-is “ALT+PrintScreen” of the underlying code, intended to be deciphered after the fact by posthuman entities—for other sentient animals, cyborgs, and/or alien life forms trying to unravel and make sense of Homo sapien DNA/gene expression, at least of this singular, perhaps deranged, posthuman in training. And it’s this putting of pen to paper that is the catharsis by which in8 iĐ unshackles from the human condition.

‘In the same fashion that the overarching (and perhaps ever-unfinished) U/X is nonlinear and can be read in various alternative rearrangements,7 it is suggested that the enumerated chapters in 1/ 4 i am ĐNA can be read sequentially in this prescribed order:8 1, 13, 9, 2, 12, 8, 5, 3, 7, 4, 10, 16, 11, 15, 14, and ending with atomic # 6, carbon (corresponding to the elemental chemical sequence H, Al, F, He, Mg, O, B, Li, N, Be, Ne, S, Na, P, Si, C). Or read into it however you will.’ — 4word

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1 Where “it” = information technology.
2 Or, rather, it is the computer/software that is using the author’s fingers to manipulate the text and images in 1/ 4 i am ĐNA.
3 16 bits, in fact; or in the language of early-American settlers, “2 bits” = 1 quarter (0.25 of a dollar, or 12½ cents), so $2 worth.
4 Or, again, reversing the roles, the software pushed the user/author to the capacity of sanity.
5 Where word associations are formed based on numerology, not on meaning. For example, when in8 iĐ thinks “to associate,” they write “2 associ8,” and when they think “form,” they write “4m.”
6 Where one doesn’t see the color of a word, but the associated alphanumeric value of the word’s spectral wavelength.
7 See http://5cense.com/22/1048.htm, which also provides additional background material useful for understanding this book.
8 Or, in the binary numbering system used in this book: 000-000, 001-100, 001-000, 000-001, 001-011, 000-111, 000-100, 000-010, 000-110, 000-011, 001-001, 001-010, 001-110, 001-101, 000-101.

 

5cense
Sound Furies
The Future by (∀/non i/U): “UX-000-111 (Oxygen)”
U/X 001-100: : st&ing 13K ray
Buy ‘1/ 4 i am ĐNA’

 

in8 iĐ 1/ 4 i am ĐNA
Calamari Books

‘As with any book, 1/ 4 i am ĐNA is no more than the tree-based, carbon-copy embodiment of a user/author’s indoctrination by the man-made technologies we use to attempt to replicate life experience into 2-dimensional visual language. ¼ of the way (or ½-way to ½-way) thru the overarching 64 chapter work-in-progress, U/X, the author (in8 iĐ) pushed the word processing software (i.Đ.) to the point of irreversible failure as they attempted to construct elemental (in a periodic tabular sense) multi-directional source code (for example, the 64-character string “and ma, i 4 1 live 2 emit ½ loops + flow H-self 4 tides reversed on 8 set animal peels” backwards reads “sleep laminates (8 nodes) reversed it 4 flesh wolf + spool ½ time 2 evil 1, 4 i am DNA”). The exact moment the i.Đ. document crashed beyond repair was when in8 iĐ copied and pasted the umlauted ö into the word “Möbius loop,” in effect the equivalent of dividing by 0. 1/ 4 i am ĐNA incarnates ¼ of a contingency rollback, a stopgap snapshot in ¼ time, a soft copy made hard, a hard-coded blueprint that can be used to “recre8” the original nonlinear 16 chapters of text/image back into self-organized, non-binary, re-sequenced neuroplasticity adaptable to even the uninitiated reader’s mind frame (to answer Hendrix’s “are U/ Xperienced?”), to digest and “re4mule8” in their “one mined, 2” fuse with the silicon-based mainframe to become posthuman, for the book itself to have life beyond binary bytes on a crashed hard drive, to be decrypted and interpreted by any sentient entity.’ — Calamari Books

Excerpt

Extras

Sound Furies—Niger

Sound Furies—O U R [sic]

 

*

p.s Hey. ** Dee Kilroy, Hi! Me too, I guess obviously, re: ‘GP’. Oh, I guess the only reason ‘Shoot the Sun Down’ isn’t there is because I was using 1976 as the stop date. From what I read, Acid Western aficionados tag that as the genre’s death date, why I don’t know. How are you? ** Damien Ark, Hi! Right? I think I may have already said that when I was in Iceland there was not a place or time when I couldn’t turn my head and see something incredible. I’ve read into your book, but not too far yet for the only reason that the film works is eating my time and brain at the moment. But I love it so far. I mentioned you in an interview I did for Hobart the other day. Wow, I guess you’re in prison or ‘prison’ or both right now. How long were you there? And, you know, what transpired? Right, I need to start doing my 2023 list soon. I’ll try the Tesseract and ‘Music for a cosmic garden’, which I don’t know. Welcome back to the so-called free world. Love, me. ** _Black_Acrylic, My pleasure. Excellent, excellent about the new courses. Music to my ears or, you know, eyes, buddy. ** Jack Skelley, Jacky! Did I include that just for you? Well, err, sure, man, just for you, of course. ‘Green Acres’! A two-word synonym for the word genius. I did Taylor last night. Oh boy. See you in a while. ** James Bennett, Hi, James! That premise has a lot there. Including Paris, font of lots of everything. You can always go back to the unused stuff later and make short fictions or something. Or I’ve done that many times. I’m actually trying to put together a collection of exactly unused/revamped things right now. My pal Zac does that: uses stints in a library to focus him on work. And it works. Um, Taylor Swift. I think the biggest surprise for me was how relentlessly bland and samey her stuff is. It’s like she writes her songs and calculates her image/show using AI. Every song of hers is basically the same song. She has, like, three melodic ideas and every song has the same topic with lyrics slightly shuffled from song to song. Absolutely zero experimenting. Really strange that she and hers create such passion. It’s very interesting but kind of grim too, to me at least. Thank you being here and sharing your thoughts and stuff with me, sir. ** Dominik, Hi!!! Thank you about the interviews. Wait, you were seriously puking and shitting simultaneously? Hopefully emphasis on the word ‘were’. Well, that was an emergency, so I trust love was all over ending that. Love giving Taylor Swift the idea to record an album of Throbbing Gristle covers, G. ** Steve Erickson, Hi. Cool about the Jude interview and the venue! Maggot Brain is so great! Obviously smooth in-and-out on the booster shot if possible. We’re finished with the film’s edit for the time being. If we edit anymore, it’ll just be the most minute fixes. I have my bi-weekly Zoom ‘book’ club tonight where my writer friends, including Mr. Jack Skelley, and I will, on this occasion, discuss ‘Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour’ and a story by Nabokov. I will be ‘praying’ very hard that my new bank card arrives today. A Zoom with the Assistant Director of ‘Room Temperature’. Visit to the Xmas Fair @ the Tuileries if it ever stops raining. Enjoy munching with your friend. Cure meets Oi? Okey doke, I’ll have to test that. ** Misanthrope, Me too, and same to yours. The mall! You have a nice mall there, do you? Skateboarders and shit? There’s no other directions than up and on. ** ellie, Hi. Well, honestly, I think my novels are only novels because they’re novel length. So I approve. It sounds really exciting! My stuff is quite influenced by sculpture. I used to be very close friends with the great sculptor Charles Ray, and his work and how he thought/talked about his work and how it uses space and particle physics and so on sort of totally changed the way I thought about fiction, and that effect remains. Rosalind Krauss knows. Very happy to hear anything about your novel as you work on it. Wow, Martin Arnold, you have superb influences. I’m sure you know all this stuff, but here’s the blog’s Martin Arnold Day. A little bit of wear and tear there, sorry. I love his work. Cornell: Kind off an obvious choice, but I do really love his film ‘Rose Hobart’. And art-wise, hm, maybe ‘Soap Bubble Set’, but it’s hard to choose. You have fave(s)? You found an affordable copy of that ‘Dennis’ CD? Crazy. I know someone who bought one a couple of years ago for $450. Thanks you about the film finishing. We need a lot of luck right now. Honestly, Xmas in Paris is where I like to be. It’s kind of at its best then. Although I wished it still snowed (more than for maybe 18 seconds a year). When I first moved here, they still got blizzards. Sigh. How about you when it’s cold/Xmas? Are you in NYC through the holidays? ** xo,D. ** Mark, Hi, pal. I was in an Acid Western once. It was called the Rainbow Gathering. And it was hell on earth. Thank you for the knowledge that I utterly lacked before you shared it and which I am going to employ to improve my life whatever that takes. Weekend fun? ** Barkley, Hi, Barkley! Wow, it’s you! How the heck are you? I’m good, busy, good. Oh god, someone put ‘ToE’ on archive.org? That’s a little terrifying. I was so, so, so not good yet when I did that. Oh, well. I did draw the cover. Yeah, I used to draw a lot. When I was in high school, I was sort of known as the school artist, which is weird because I wasn’t very talented at drawing and painting. But it was a very small private school with no art classes. I eventually accepted that I wasn’t talented at visual art and stopped completely when I was 19. I love visual art though. It’s like the main thing I pay attention to in a way. Uh, that’s a complicated question. let me think. Well, I think Ron Mueck is a horrible artist, but I saw this giant crouching boy sculpture he made once and got kind of obsessed with it. And I hate Anselm Kiefer’s work, but, again, I saw one little sculpture thing by him once that I had to admit insinuated itself into me productively. Can I ask you the same question? May I? It’s so nice to see you! Ultra-best wishes to you! ** malcolm, Hi, m. Well, there you go, on the differentials, but I feel like I can assure you that it’s not your problem. Anyway, god love contrarians. They’re very instructive. Maybe I’m even one and I just don’t know it. I too can not find the logic in John not being able to fund his films. And sometimes I think he just doesn’t want to make films anymore or is spooked by the idea after ‘Dirty Rotten Shame’ was so unliked and he’s just using that as an excuse. But I don’t know. I’ve told him to just make really low budget films again, but he doesn’t want to. He wants the big bucks, and he sure deserves them. Huh, yeah, that lyric you quoted is nice, and, yeah, in a perfect world that’s true too. What can I say, we rule, man. ** Don Waters, Hi, Don! Maybe you saw that I’ve been chatting here the last couple of days about the ‘Dennis’ CD. Everyone, If you know or were paying attention to the little chit-chat here about the ‘Dennis’ ‘tribute’ CD, this guy, superb writer and person and etc. Don Waters is the person who made that happen and deserves all the credit there is. Thank you again, man, from the future. And I’m happy you like Acid Westerns. And I can totally see that knowing your work. How are you? ** Audrey, Hi, Audrey. I’m going to make the Radu Jude post today. Fingers crossed. Yeah, James Benning its great like that. In addition to being one of the greatest filmmakers ever in my opinion. Curious to hear what you think of ‘Monrovia, Indiana’ when you get to it. Thank you so much! I don’t know Jane Remover (wonderful name) or underscores, and I’ll make fast work of that. Of course I know and like Arca and SOPHIE and Charli XCX. I haven’t heard CXCX’s new one yet. Is it good? Enjoy that weekend. I’ll do my best with mine given it’s raining like an avalanche. Love, Dennis. ** Okay. I loved the five books pictured up above there, and I do urge you to give them a chance. See you on Monday.

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‘The term “acid Western” was first used by Pauline Kael in her 1971 review of El Topo. The film had just received its formal premiere after having played for some six months straight at a shabby theater in downtown New York named the Elgin, at which it received essentially no advertising and played exclusively at midnight. Nevertheless, the film did peculiarly strong business and became a curious fixation. El Topo was pulled from the Elgin and armed with a national distributor who aimed to replicate its success in other U.S. cities. Its belated premiere, at a theater in Times Square in November of 1971, is when Kael and other critics from the mainstream press would see the film for the first time, and it is here where they found themselves amid the film’s most integral component: its audience, perceptibly under the influence of some mind-altering substance.

‘For Kael the acid Western was a derogatory allusion to the pothead audience that extolled the film—an audience she admittedly did not belong to. In her review she expends many words in describing those in attendance with her, whom she observes unjudgementally but alertly, as one would animals at a zoo. J. Hoberman and Jonathan Rosenbaum elaborate on the phenomenon in their 1980 book Midnight Movies, in which an entire chapter is devoted to El Topo:

Although hip film buffs objected to El Topo’s graceless amalgam of Luis Buñuel, Federico Fellini, Sergio Leone, Sam Peckinpah, and Jean-Luc Godard, the movie bypassed cinematic sophistication to address the counterculture directly.

‘Rosenbaum reprised the term in his review of Jim Jarmusch’s 1995 film, Dead Man, and in conjunction with Kael’s writing delineated the rough parameters of the makeshift subgenre. For Rosenbaum the acid Western refers to Jarmusch’s film foremost, and retroactively to a slew of films from the late 60s and early 70s that share Jarmusch’s inversion of the Western formula. These films generally posit an individualist journey that ends not in triumph but often in suffering and death—a narrative trajectory Dead Man summates in its very title. Rosenbaum elaborated thusly:

What I partly mean by ‘acid Westerns’ are revisionist Westerns in which American history is reinterpreted to make room for peyote visions and related hallucinogenic experiences, LSD trips in particular. […] Both ‘acid Westerns’ and ‘pot Westerns’ depend on reevaluations of white and nonwhite experience that view certain countercultural habits and styles in relation to models derived from Westerns, but where they differ most, perhaps, is in their generational biases, which lead them respectively to overturn or ironically revise the relevant generic norms.

‘At the time of their conception, acid Westerns extended the already-incipient trend of Western revisionism that was underway in Hollywood, sometimes by the genre’s most popular and radical practitioners. The most abrasive of these would be Sam Peckinpah, whose 1969 The Wild Bunch itself appealed to the counterculture’s more politicized faction for its potency as an analogy of violence in Vietnam. “The Western is a universal frame,” Peckinpah remarked, “within which it’s possible to comment on today.” Traditionally, the Western was an index of America’s exceptionalism, a document of the U.S.’s imperialistic growth. Acid Westerns are a response to this tactic, in that they’re generally more concerned with the suppression and hostility enacted to facilitate that growth. The first and purist examples were made in the late 60s, in which the counter-culture asserted a brief yet emphatic hold on the Hollywood machine.

‘This audience engendered the success of films in which heroes were decidedly anti-authoritative (The Graduate) and their plights strewn in prejudiced opposition (Easy Rider). But unlike its mainstream counterparts, the acid Western caters more specifically to a bohemian audience befitted by the influence of a hallucinogenic substance of some sort, the same audience that would give birth to the ritual of the midnight movie in the 70s. It is in this regard that the acid Western is exemplified in Alejandro Jodorowsky’s El Topo. Kael describes the film’s phenomenon as such:

Jodorowsky has come up with something new: exploitation filmmaking joined to sentimentality—the sentimentality of the counter-culture. They mix frighteningly well: for the counter-culture violence is romantic and shock is beautiful, because extremes of feeling and lack of control are what one takes drugs for. What has has been happening, I think, is that the counter-culture has begun to look for the equivalent of a drug trip in its theatrical experiences. I think it still responds to non-head movies if there’s a possibility of direct identification with the characters, but increasingly movies appear to be valued only for their intensity.

‘This “intensity” is a response to the violence in Jodorowsky’s film, but in a general sense it describes the tone of a true acid Western: a film that amalgamates the violent with the absurd in such a way that the result, to a specific audience, achieves a certain profundity.’ — Rumsey Taylor, Not Coming

 

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Stills

 

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Further

Special Monte Hellman issue of ‘La furia umana’
The Mondo Esoterica Guide to: Sergio Corbucci
Andy Warhol Films
The Shrine to Don Knotts
Sam Peckinpah @ Senses of Cinema
Pagina Oficial de Alejandro Jodorowsky
‘Zachariah: The Quintessinal Hippie Movie’
Audio: Listen to Robert Altman discuss his career
‘Luc Moullet, a Bootleg Filmmaker’
The Films of Robert Downey Sr. @ Persistence of Vision
In Praise of Michael J. Pollard
Westworld Headed Back to the Screen
‘THE AVENGING CONSCIENCE: An analysis of philosophical themes in Clint Eastwood’s HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER
Lady of the Cake: A Mel Brooks Site
‘Rancho Deluxe’ @ The Internet Movie Database
Welcome to Arthur Penn Fansite

 

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Responding to some questions about “Acid Westerns”

 

We’re approaching the acid Western as if it could satisfy a chapter in your book, Midnight Movies. At the time of its writing, how might you and J. Hoberman have denominated the films that have retroactively become known as acid Westerns (The Shooting, Greaser’s Palace, The Last Movie, El Topo, et al.)?

Jonathan Rosenbaum: I can’t speak for Jim Hoberman. As nearly as I can remember, I simply coined the phrase in order to group together several countercultural westerns — which included, by the way, some of the novels of Rudy Wurlitzer as well as some movies.

The first instance I’ve found of the term “acid Western” occurs in Pauline Kael’s review of El Topo in 1971, and she employs it in derogatory fashion, alluding to the pothead audience that extolled the film — an audience she admittedly did not belong to. Being that your use of the term is more academic, do you think that the acid Western was meant to be viewed under the influence of hallucinogenic substances?

Jonathan Rosenbaum: Maybe Kael used the term before I did and I unconsciously borrowed it. I certainly was a pothead in that period, but I probably disliked El topo as much as she did. I don’t know what you mean by “more academic,” unless maybe you mean more thoughtful or accurate. But since Kael or I coined the term, I can’t see how one can ascribe intentionality to the Westerns she or I or both of us might have been talking about. “Meant to be”? I don’t get that. But yes, some of these movies–as well as other movies, of all kinds–were viewed under the influence of hallucinogens.

How do you feel the more acid-centric, drop-out faction of the counterculture aligns with the politically engaged, anti-capitalist, “make love not war” wing? Wouldn’t these factions have been largely opposed, or is the acid Western perhaps emblematic of their common aims?

Jonathan Rosenbaum: You’re speaking in journalistic and/or academic categories — clichés, actually — that correspond to advertising pitches, not people. Some people I knew took acid and/or “dropped out” and/or were politically engaged and/or were anticapitalist and/or countercultural (to varying degrees) and/or wanted to fuck rather than fight. To some extent, I belonged to all of these categories, and so did some of my friends and acquaintances, but I’d hate to reduce any of us to these slogans or demographics. You might belong to any one or two of these labels and still not like any of the “acid westerns,” or you might like one or two or all of them. Fortunately, there were several possibilities, because, rightly or wrong, we all tended to think we were free and not simply suckers in an advertising campaign.

One of your postulations about the acid Western is that it uses the Western genre as a framework in which to advance a critique of conventional models of capitalism. Wouldn’t this make the acid Western adjacent to some of Sergio Leone’s Westerns, specifically Once Upon a Time in the West, which is in a general sense a critique of Hollywood imperialism?

Jonathan Rosenbaum: Maybe it was that, but I didn’t take it as such at the time — I took it as a sadistic form of high opera that valorized macho violence as well as capitalism and was liked for pretentious and/or campy reasons. But my response probably wasn’t at all typical. I recall liking the Morricone theme song, but not much else.

Do you think that the acid Western has its most integral component in a 60s counterculture audience, and as such may no longer exist in its truest form? The poor commercial performance of Dead Man, for example, indicates that the film may have been orphaned from its proper context.

Jonathan Rosenbaum: It’s my own impression that Dead Man actually did quite well commercially, at least over time. (Somehow, I suspect that my Dead Man book wouldn’t have gone into a 2nd edition and been translated into French, Czech, and Persian if its subject had flopped commercially.) Don’t confuse the obtuseness of Harvey Weinstein at the time of the original release with the world market between then and now, or even necessarily with the American market. And what about the Native American market, which the film explicitly addresses? I think the film did and does address some countercultural currents in its audience, wherever and whenever these currents happen to be, which doesn’t make either it or any of its fans orphans. It never played for or to any 60s audiences, so it’s fruitless to speculate about that, but when it came out three decades later, it clearly wasn’t speaking to a void.

 

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22 films (1964 – 1976)

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Oldřich Lipský Lemonade Joe (1964)
‘Colorful parody that can be easily ranked among the comedy giants. Way before Mel Brooks ever thought of his concepts, Lemonade Joe came as an avant-garde blast that mocked American westerns and even hidden racial issues (again, just like Brooks did) but in a less subtle manner and with extraordinary camera tricks, innovative slapstick comedy, different tints to create scenarios, a parody on western violence, a mockery of the inhuman abilities of the typical western “hero”, and a furious editing. Who needs CGI these days?’ — Edgar Cochran

the entire film

 

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Monte Hellman The Shooting (1966)
‘Hellman’s masterpiece asserts that individual choice is often subverted by the moral objectivity of others. The film’s ending is a favorite among cinephilles and serves as a paradigm of Camus’s thinking—both stoic and humane, it champions the power of nature over violence. Rather than exaggerate the likeability of his characters, Hellman is more concerned with their very human flaws. We mourn their deaths because of this realism. Hellman fabulously fools around with western archetypes—here we have a faithful sidekick with a penchant for comedy, a scruffy yet likeable hero, an obnoxious yet empowered female, and a mysterious man in black. Hellman’s spatial dynamics are disorienting and his compositions remarkably political. In one shot, Hellman uses a tree trunk to split his frame in two: on one side stands the character played by Perkins, on the other stands Oates and Hutchins. Most startling, though, is Hellman’s refusal to give evil a definitive face.’ — Ed Gonzalez, Slant Magazine

the entire film

 

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Monte Hellman Ride in the Whirlwind (1966)
‘Three cowhands, between jobs, have the bad dumb luck to pitch night camp in the same valley as a cabin full of guys who just robbed a stagecoach and killed the guard. Come morning, a posse arrives, forms up along the ridge, and takes for granted that everyone down below is guilty.’ — MUBI

the entire film

 

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Sergio Corbucci The Great Silence (1968)
‘The Great Silence (Il grande silenzio, 1968), or The Big Silence, is an Italian spaghetti western. It is widely considered by critics as the masterpiece of director Sergio Corbucci and is one of his better known movies, along with Django (1966). Unlike most conventional and spaghetti westerns, The Great Silence takes place in the snow-filled landscapes of Utah during the Great Blizzard of 1899. The movie features a score by Ennio Morricone and stars Jean-Louis Trintignant as Silence, a mute gunfighter with a grudge against bounty hunters, assisting a group of outlawed Mormons and a woman trying to avenge her husband (one of the outlaws). They are set against a group of ruthless bounty hunters, led by Loco (Klaus Kinski).’ — thespinningimage.com

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Andy Warhol Lonesome Cowboys (1968)
‘Lonesome Cowboys was shot at the end of January 1968 in Tucson Arizona – on location in Old Tucson and at the Rancho Linda Vista Dude ranch 20 miles outside the city where some John Wayne movies had been filmed. It was edited by Andy while he was recuperating from the gunshot wounds inflicted by Valerie Solanas on June 3, 1968 and won Best Film at the San Francisco Film Festival in November. Unable to find a major commercial exhibitor, Warhol rented the Garrick Theatre where it opened on May 5, 1969. According to Morrissey, the film grossed $35,000-40,000 during its first week, with only $9,000 spent on advertising. It was also booked at the 55th Street Playhouse at the same time where it broke the “single-day housemark”, taking in $3,837 at $3.00 per ticket. In the same day it made $2,780 at the Garrick. It also ran for twenty weeks at various art houses in Los Angeles, and 2 1/2 months in San Francisco under distribution by Sherpix.’ — Gary Comenas, Warholstars

Excerpt

Watch the film here

 

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Alan Rafkin The Shakiest Gun in the West (1968)
‘This is a Don Knotts movie—and that says it all. It says, for one thing, that the plot deals with a weak little worm who turns and triumphs, after ten reels of old-style pratfalls. It also says that Universal City Studios will almost surely make $3,000,000 on an investment of $1,200,000. For Don Knotts comedies are what the trade calls “regionals”—movies turned out for rural audiences. In New York City, Chicago .and Los Angeles, the film Shakiest Gun was buried as a second feature after a Japanese-made disaster called King Kong Escapes. But it will pack them in as a feature in other areas, where Don Knotts is known and loved for his grape-eyed, slack-jawed frailty in the face of just about anything life sends his way.’ — Time Magazine

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the entire film

 

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Sam Peckinpah The Wild Bunch (1969)
‘The Wild Bunch (1969) is director/co-writer Sam Peckinpah’s provocative, brilliant yet controversial Western, shocking for its graphic and elevated portrayal of violence and savagely-explicit carnage, yet hailed for its truly realistic and reinterpreted vision of the dying West in the early 20th century. Peckinpah had earlier directed another classic western about the West’s passing, Ride the High Country (1962) and the epic western film Major Dundee (1965). Many of the film’s major stars, including William Holden, Edmond O’Brien, Robert Ryan and Ben Johnson, were veterans of westerns with a more romantic view of the West in the 40s and 50s. This hard-edged, landmark masterpiece of the Western film genre was beautifully shot in wide-screen by cinematographer Lucien Ballard. The film’s lasting influence has been seen in the imitative graphic violence of the films of Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, John Woo, and others.’ — Tim Dirks, filmsite

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Alejandro Jodorowsky El Topo (1970)
‘With its druggy wanderings and inscrutable reveries, El Topo would be part of the revolutionary, post-’60s movement if its private mythology didn’t belong so obviously to its maker’s acid subconscious. “I am God,” El Topo at one point intones, and Jodorowsky completely means it: Playing deity in front of and behind the camera, the director uses film as a direct pipe into his own mind, and the bursting valise of ideas, images, and sounds that results is a veritable blur of ridiculous and sublime (and ridiculous-sublime) moments that defy ordinary readings while inviting (demanding, really) audience involvement via active interpretation. Whether one takes it as a staggeringly visionary work or a sadistic circus procession making an opportunistic grab for every artistic base (Buñuel and Zen, Eisenstein and pantomime, Antonin Artaud and Russ Meyer), there is no denying the immersive being of the film.’ — Fernando F. Croce, Slant Magazine

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Excerpts

 

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George Englund Zachariah (1971)
‘Zachariah (1971) is a film starring John Rubinstein as Zachariah and Don Johnson as his best friend Matthew. The film is loosely based on Herman Hesse’s novel Siddhartha, surrealistically adapted as a musical Western by Joe Massot and two members of the Firesign Theatre comedy troupe. The band Country Joe and the Fish perform as an inept gang of robbers (more adept as musicians) called “the Crackers,” who are always “looking for people who like to draw.” In the same vein, Zachariah boasts: “I can think, I can wait, and I’m fast on the draw.” This is a parody of Siddhartha’s famous line: “I can think, I can wait, I can fast.” This film is defined as being part of the Acid Western genre. More precisely, in its own publicity releases, it was called, “The first electric western.” This was, in no small part, because this film featured several appearances and music supplied by successful rock bands from the era, including the James Gang and Country Joe and the Fish. The movie also features former John Coltrane sideman Elvin Jones as a gunslinging drummer named “Job Cain.”‘ — jclarkmedia.com

Excerpt: Elvin Jones in Zachariah

the entire film

 

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Robert Altman McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971)
‘If Robert Altman’s movies in the early Seventies –- M*A*S*H, Brewster McCloud, McCabe and Mrs. Miller, The Long Goodbye –- reveal the overall impact of dope on movie consciousness, representing a halfway house between the softer dope influence of the Sixties and the harder edge it would take on in the early Seventies –- this is because they reflect so many of the stylistic changes reflected above, at the same time that they frequently allude to drugs in their plots. The use of overlapping dialogue and offbeat musical accompaniments (such as the Leonard Cohen songs in McCabe, the bird lectures in McCloud, and the multiple versions of the title tune in The Long Goodbye) created a dense weave that made each spectator hear and understand a slightly different movie -– and, given that these were crowded, widescreen features, see a different movie as well.’ — Jonathan Rosenbaum

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Luc Moullet A Girl is a Gun (1971)
‘In 1971, Moullet made his first color film, Une aventure de Billy le Kid, also known by its English title, A Girl Is a Gun. A psychedelic Western starring French New Wave icon Jean-Pierre Léaud, the film was never released in France, but was instead shown abroad in an English-dubbed version. The dubbing, conceived by Moullet as a tribute to the “shabbiness” he always admired in American genre films, is intentionally bad, and the short, slight Leaud is given a mismatched deep voice. Despite most Cahiers du cinéma critics admired many western authors, when they themselves became filmmakers few dared to overtly revisit that genre. One year after Alejandro Jodorowsky’s El topo and as Sergio Leone premiered A Fistful of Dollars, Moullet charges full steam ahead with a wild western starring Jean-Pierre Léaud, taking this genre and one of its key characters to unexpected territory.’ — mubi

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Jim McBride Glen and Randa (1971)
‘Post-apocalyptic movies were, apparently, quite popular in the late 60s and early 70s. Glen and Randa (GaR) is very different from ’71’s big post-apocalyptic film: The Omega Man. Yet, the indie production of GaR is as obscure as the big studio film OM is famous. There are no hoards of zombies to battle. Instead, the story focuses on the two title characters (more clueless than heroic) and their quest for a mythical city. The film, which has been described as a psychedelic post-Western, got an X rating for its full frontal nudity. GaR shares with OM, the use of Biblical imagery woven into this view of post-apocalyptic earth.’ — collaged

Trailer

Watch the film here

 

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Peter Fonda The Hired Hand (1971)
‘The following is said of Peter Fonda’s character in Steven Soderbergh’s 1999 film The Limey: “You’re not specific enough to be a person. You’re more like a vibe.” That sentiment also applies to Fonda’s trippy 1971 Western, The Hired Hand, which is the closest anyone will come to getting inside of Fonda’s head without going blind on ’shrooms and pharmaceuticals. Having delivered a huge hit for Universal with Easy Rider, the studio did what studios in the ’70s did: It gave full artistic control to a hippie visionary with no commercial instincts whatsoever. Not surprisingly, Fonda’s phantasmagoric Western bombed at the time, but it’s since been revived as a fascinating curio, one that thoroughly upends a genre built on action and machismo. It’s the most gentle of the post-Wild Bunch anti-Westerns, and one of the more gorgeously abstract.’ — The AV Club

the entire film

 

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Dennis Hopper The Last Movie (1971)
‘Production wraps on a Hollywood western in a Peruvian village but stuntman Kansas remains, attempting to find redemption in isolation and the arms of a former sex worker. Meanwhile, local Native Americans have taken over the abandoned set and are staging a ritualistic re-enactment of the film.’ — MUBI

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Robert Downey Sr. Greaser’s Palace (1972)
‘I am about to embark on the most pointless exercise known to man and I’m not talking about teaching a pig to fly. (Which actually works with a mildly sedated porker and a small trebuchet.) I’m going to try and explain Greaser’s Palace to a group of people who probably have not seen the movie. Heck, even if you have seen the movie it’s pointless. You are probably thinking to yourself, “It couldn’t be that outlandish. Could it?” The entire movie is an anecdotal allegory for religion, Christianity to be precise. If you want to start splitting hairs, I think Catholicism is the basis for everything that comes to pass. Greaser’s Palace is a huge saloon in some tumbleweed town out west; we can identify it as being “a church” since people come running to watch the show whenever bells begin ringing. Seaweedhead Greaser is the Catholic Church as represented by a gunslinger with itchy trigger fingers. Why in the world does he have a mariachi band and his mother locked in wooden cages?’ — Badmovies.org

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Stan Dragoti Dirty Little Billy (1972)
‘This is no typical, Tinseltown western. It’s more like The Making of a Sociopath, with Michael J. Pollard starring as displaced, 17-year-old Billy Bonney, in the days leading up to his evolution into the notorious Billy the Kid. Leaving New York City with his mom and (asshole) step-dad, the trio is first glimpsed arriving at a tiny Kansas cesspool named Coffyville; a DJANGO-like shanty town which keeps the entire cast continually ankle deep in dried mud, and with cinematographer Ralph Woolsey (THE MACK) bringing out the worst in the place. This is a true anti-western, without a character that you can totally warm up to, since they’re either inept, crazy, stupid or ruthless. Even the occasional moment of violence — like a barroom blowout — is quick, brutal and totally convincing. Unlike any western you’ve ever seen, this is McCABE AND MRS. MILLER’s evil brother.’ — Shock Cinema Magazine

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Michael Crichton Westworld (1973)
‘Welcome to Westworld, where nothing can go wrong…go wrong…go wrong….Writer/director Michael Crichton has concocted a futuristic “Disneyland for adults”, a remote resort island where, for a hefty fee, one can indulge in one’s wildest fantasies. Businessmen James Brolin and Richard Benjamin are just crazy about the old west, thus they head to the section of Westworld populated by robot desperadoes, robot lawmen, robot dance-hall gals, and the like. Benjamin’s first inkling that something is amiss occurs when, during a mock showdown with robot gunslinger Yul Brynner, Brolin is shot and killed for real. It seems that the “nerve center” of Westworld has developed several serious technical glitches: the human staff is dead, and the robots are running amok.’ — Hal Erickson, Rovi

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Clint Eastwood High Plains Drifter (1973)
‘Though occasionally amusing, in ways similar to A Fistful of Dollars and Akira Kurosawa’s Yojimbo, in which tough protagonists also manipulate weaker townspeople to humorous effect, High Plains Drifter is a brooding, surprisingly artistic Western, accented by a haunting score. Vigilante justice and broad depictions of good and evil tend not to work as well in stories set in the present day, because we’re all too aware of the damage Dirty Harry-style justice can do to the social fabric of the contemporary world. But it does work in Westerns, where the only law is the law of the gun. It’s a genre made for severe parables of justice and retribution like High Plains Drifter. At the end, Mordecai remarks that he still doesn’t know the stranger’s name. The stranger simply responds, “Yes, you do.” Mordecai understands, as do we. We understand that there are several ways to answer the question of the stranger’s identity, all equally valid.’ — AboutFilm.com

Excerpt

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Sam Peckinpah Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973)
‘A companion picture to The Wild Bunch, being set in a similar period, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid takes an entirely different approach. Here the focus is upon people rather than situations, with the title characters casting inky shadows over a memorable selection of ruffians. Completing Peckinpah’s complex and all-inclusive vision, John Coquillon’s photography remains striking. Filling the generous screen width with people and their trappings, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid is beautiful in a downbeat way. The biggest weakness is the unstructured narrative, a major barrier to comprehending the story’s central third. Here the tale is difficult to follow, wandering aimlessly across the plain, intent on introducing a stream of bit parts. Interesting maybe, but also spotty and further clouded by the often-indistinct dialogue. In fact this last point is a real disappointment, given that the script is attractively dirty and direct — people say what they have too with little elaboration. So, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid is a terrific Western with rather too many studio battle scars. Oh for what might have been!’ — Damian Cannon, Movie Reviews UK

Excerpt

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Mel Brooks Blazing Saddles (1974)
‘Vulgar, crude, and occasionally scandalous in its racial humor, this hilarious bad-taste spoof of Westerns, co-written by Richard Pryor, features Cleavon Little as the first black sheriff of a stunned town scheduled for demolition by an encroaching railroad. Little and co-star Gene Wilder have great chemistry, and the delightful supporting cast includes Harvey Korman, Slim Pickens, and Madeline Kahn as a chanteuse modelled on Marlene Dietrich. As in Young Frankenstein (1974), Silent Movie (1976), and High Anxiety (1977), director/writer Mel Brooks gives a burlesque spin to a classic Hollywood movie genre; in his own manic, Borscht Belt way, Brooks was a central player in revising classic genres in light of Seventies values and attitudes, an effort most often associated with such directors as Robert Altman and Peter Bogdanovich.’ — Robert Firsching, Rovi

Trailer

Excerpt: ‘I’m Tired’

 

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Frank Perry Rancho Deluxe (1975)
‘Rancho Deluxe is a comedy western film that was directed by Frank Perry and released in 1975. Jeff Bridges and Sam Waterston star as two cattle rustlers in modern-day Montana who plague a wealthy ranch owner, played by Clifton James. The film also stars Harry Dean Stanton, Richard Bright, Elizabeth Ashley and, as the aging detective Harry Beige hired to find the rustlers, Slim Pickens. The script was by novelist Thomas McGuane, who was married to Ashley. The film was described as a form of “parody Western” by critic Richard Eder in his Nov. 24, 1975 New York Times review. “It is so cool that it is barely alive,” he wrote of the film’s general tone. Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times gave Rancho Deluxe only one-and-a-half out of four possible stars. He wrote: “I don’t know how this movie went so disastrously wrong, but it did.”‘ — imdb.com

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Arthur Penn The Missouri Breaks (1976)
‘On first release, Arthur Penn’s 1976 western found itself derided as an addled, self-indulgent folly. Today, its quieter passages resonate more satisfyingly, while its lunatic take on a decadent, dying frontier seems oddly appropriate. Most significantly, the film provides a showcase for a mesmerising turn from Marlon Brando as the regulator hired to wage war on Jack Nicholson’s reformed horse rustler. At the time of shooting, Nicholson was fresh from an Oscar for One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, his star in the ascendancy. And yet he appears happy to cede centre stage to his one-time acting idol. Not that Brando needs much invitation. Improvising his lines from beneath a series of comedy hats, he embarks on a merry dance from burlesque to menace and back again, while the picture frantically plays catch-up behind him.’ — The Guardian

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p.s. Hey. ** Nick Hudson, Hey! I saw your email, great, thanks, obviously looking greatly forward to the gifts. Got you on the relocation. I’m so happy I’m not living in the US at the current moment. I’ve got to check out Tbilisi and the environs one of these days, months, something. Thanks, Nick! ** Dominik, Hi!!! Pleasure. Warmth, yay, good things come in invisible packages. And you picked a real goodie on the shapely head squib. Love on two tabs of 60s style acid staring at your face and saying, ‘Wow’ over and over, G. ** _Black_Acrylic, Thanks, B, I agree. ** James Bennett, Hi, James! Hello to London too. Thanks a lot for the kind words. You’re writing your first novel! Amazing! Can you describe it in some way (hard, I know, trust me). I never set word count or work time goals for myself. My energies/inspiration are too kind of random and wildly differing in volume. If I can only eek out a handful offgood sentences in one day, I’m as fine with that as I am with pouring out a bunch of prose which in most cases is pretty destined for a ton of future revisions. I just stay in the excited/addicted to writing mental state and accept whatever makes it out of my head on any particular day. Does that make sense? Gladman’s great, I think. Big congrats on the publication, and 3:AM is an excellent location. I’ll go read that ASAP. Thanks a lot! Everyone, James Bennett, writer and visitor has a short fiction piece newly up and readable at the fine and dependable 3:AM Magazine site that I recommend you grace your eyes and etc. with. It’s here. Thanks again, and hope to see you again soon. ** Misanthrope, Glad things sound smoother on the Elio Jr. front. Hope the doc visit was de rigour. No, def. sounds like Little D is jetting in the right direction. Really nice and relieving to hear that. ** Steve Erickson, There you go! I’ll get my Taylor Swift knowledge enhancement in a little later today. I’m expecting very little. Not that I know of re: the new Radu film being shown here. I’ll check to make sure though. I am going to do a post on him, so I’ll get up to speed in that course. ** Nick., Hi. Oh, maybe it arrived too late, or I mean after I’d started writing the p.s. because I usually stop looking for new comments at that point. ‘Priscilla’ has the Nick. approval stamp. Noted. Eyes more peeled. That sentence starting with ‘Hum’ was a very nice sentence. Best luck with your work, and I will query the AR dudes. ** tomk, Hey, man. I do recommend reading all the Ravicka books. I really think she’s one of the best out there. I’m good, you too, I hope. ** Charalampos, I think it was a trilogy but then she decided to add another. Working on a book is one of the true pleasures. Right now there’s not enough out there to do a Vecchiali post, but I’ll keep checking. Slightly warmer vibes from barely warmer Paris. ** Bill, Hi. ‘Event Factory’ is maybe my favorite of hers, but all the Ravicka novels are great. Yes, I only realised that Bob Gluck’s new book was already out yesterday. Snuck right up. I need to find it somewhere. ** 🏃‍♂️DArby, Well, I assume they’re making a new ‘Crow’ movie for the same soulless, brainless, greedy reason that they’re making a new ‘Willy Wonka’ movie. Yes, yes, you can draw me something else and whatever you want and what you’re thinking of drawing sounds spectacular! ‘Til Monday then. Be with the time in-between characteristically and inexorably. ** Audrey, Hi, Audrey. I feel the uniqueness. The last Wiseman I saw in a theater was ‘Monrovia, Indiana’ which I completely loved. It might even be my favorite of his. Yes, I found enough Radu Jude stuff to make a post, and I’m going to make it this weekend. Mostly I’ll have to just use trailers to represent his films since there aren’t many excerpts, but that’s okay, I think. Yeah, as a huge lover of experimental film, it’s a hard life wanting to see that work, and it’s so hard to hope to see the films actually projected because so extremely few places are interested in screening them, and I wish more experimental filmmakers put their work online so we could all view them, but I also understand they want to protect their work and all of that. I’m expecting to get a better understanding of the Taylor Swift phenomenon. I’ve heard enough of her songs to know that I’m really not interested in her stuff. Well, yes, I think it’s safe to bet your life savings on a Swift vs. Dylan quality battle. Yes, so sad about Sophie. She was wonderful, it’s such a loss. I do like hyper-pop, and I wish I listened to it more often. Its effect is definitely a positive one, on me at least. Recommend things to dig into? Love, Dennis. ** Corey Heiferman, Hi. Kind of novel-meets-epic-poem hybrid kind of thing. Glad you’re feeling better. Can’t even begin to imagine the fatigue going around there. Here the related atmosphere is kind of simultaneously fatigued and very fired up. Um, my tastes in things have evolved, especially with music. I used to be very into, like, serial killers and that realm, and I’m not anymore. I think it’s more like a calming down than a lot of shifts. I guess I don’t think about it. Can you describe your shuffling? ** ellie, Hi. Fuck, well, at least your headache was productive, it sounds like. A novel! Wow, that’s really great news! Are you excited and obsessed? Very cool. I did do a post about Cornell’s films ages ago. I should restore it. I love them. And his IRL works too. Do you think that Cornell film you’re into is informing your novel in some way or, as they say, giving your novel permission? What a weird saying. Oh, the tribute album was called ‘Dennis’. It was a limited edition CD put out in 2006 with songs inspired by my stuff by Robert Pollard, Richard Hell, Xiu Xiu, Pavement, and a bunch of other cool artists. Sadly, it’s massively out of print. I’ve never even seen one for sale at insane prices or anything. Crowdfunding is an extremely last ditch possibility. It’s a huge amount of work, and neither Zac nor I having any self-promoting gifts, and there’s a million people asking for money for their projects, and it sort would only be in case of emergency, I think. I very much remember the slushy nightmare winters in NYC, yeah. Since it doesn’t snow in Paris anymore, it’s not as bad, and, you know, Paris is beautiful anyway, and they really do it up at Xmas. You gave the loveliest day too! And I’ll pass along your tips. Everyone, ellie passes along a real treasure trove in the form of a playlist of the amazing films of Joseph Cornell that you can watch simple by pressing down on these words. And on top of that, a couple of us here were talking about artists residencies, and ellie passes along a link to a site showing some of them if you’re interested. Here. ** Nuno, Hi, Nuno. Thank you for coming in. Lost texts … I’m not sure. I’d have to think and hunt. Maybe. It’s amazing of you to ask. You can email me here: [email protected] and we can talk more. Thanks, and good to meet you. ** Right. I went back into the deep archives and found and restored today’s post because I have a fondness for the genre that arose when filmmakers got the idea of combining westerns with drugginess. There are both good and terrible examples up there if you’re interested. See you tomorrow in any case.