Category Archives: personal

Blog Post of Lost Souls

Spoiler Alert!  I am going to pretty much recount the entire plot of The Island of Lost Souls (1932).  I did not realize the year till I looked it up just now.  I guess most readers have had ample opportunity to catch this flick.

I have not written about an old horror movie in a long time.  I have a bunch of them on my DVR, and on a recent Sunday, I felt the urge to relax, crochet, and watch.  I thought, Charles Laughton, Bela Lugosi, what’s not to like?  So Island of Lost Souls it was.

The movie opens with a ship rescuing a wild-eyed guy from a derelict, and I thought, “Oh, swell, the whole thing’s going to be a flashback.  This guy just escaped from the bad island and he’s going to tell us all about it.”  It is a hoary device much used in the cinema and elsewhere.  It’s not a horrible device, but I have to ask, “Why?”  Only I did not have to ask it this time, because it wasn’t what happened.  The ship was on its way to the mysterious island.  One cliche successfully avoided!

Wild-eyed guy, who recovers from his wild-eyed-ness pretty quickly and is named Parker, is on his way to meet his fiance, who is waiting for him where this ship just happens to be going.  He is able to send her a wireless, so that’s a relief for both of them, as well as an important plot point later (I did include a Spoiler Alert, remember?).

Now we come to what I think is a pretty good piece of plotting.  Plotting 101, I’ve learned:  cause and effect.  Because this, then this.  The ship is carrying enough wild animals to stock a zoo.  The obnoxious, belligerent captain finds this so disturbing he drinks.  A lot.  Because of his drinking (and because he is an obnoxious, belligerent sort — see, character causes action as well), he has a confrontation with Parker in which Parker decks him (ooh, unintended pun:  they’re on a SHIP and Parker DECKS him!).  Because of this, the captain, who is also vindictive, throws Parker overboard into Dr. Moreau’s boat when Dr. M is taking delivery on the animals.

Dr. Moreau is at first put out by the intrusion, but he is soon reconciled as he conceives of a sinister use for Parker. At least, Dr. M does not see his purpose as sinister.  He sees it as a golden opportunity to further his scientific research.

I did not understand his scientific research one bit, and I’m thinking that H.G. Wells (who wrote the original story) just made it up as he went along.  Years ago I read a book about how to write science fiction, and the folks that wrote it seemed to think that the reader maybe ought to believe that what you wrote was at least kind of sort of maybe perhaps remotely possible.  Obviously, H.G. Wells never read that book.   I daresay it was written after his time.  No matter, on with the blog.

So Parker, although he is not supposed to be snooping (what a surprise) (and what a surprise that he does), soon finds out that Dr. M and his colleague (the doctor who was on the boat and partially responsible for rescuing Parker.  I forgot to mention him) are doing some sort of heinous experiments that involve a lot of screaming. In fact, the lab is known as the House of Pain.  I flashed back to army basic training every time I heard “House of Pain,”  but never mind my little psychological glitches.

The nefarious purpose Dr. Moreau has for Parker is to introduce him to this beautiful but mysteriously ignorant young woman.  Dr. M tells Parker she is a Polynesian or some such, and although Parker is fooled, we are not.  We know she is one of the doctor’s experiments.

It turns out — and this is where I just can’t picture what sort of science was used — that Dr. Moreau has made all these men out of animals.  And isn’t that typical Hollywood — and theatre in general — all those men and only one woman!  Well let’s don’t get me started on the dearth of good female roles anywhere in theatre.  This blog post is getting long enough as it is.

Apropos female roles, however, the part of the fiance is not negligible, as such parts often are.  Because she has received the wireless from Parker (see, cause and effect!), she is waiting for him when the ship docks.  Belligerent Captain tries to blow her off, but she enlists the help of the American Consul to get the whole story out of him.  Soon she is off to the rescue.  I suppose someone will carp that she needs the help of men to save the day, namely the consul and the boat guy, but I feel this is mere quibbling. We all get by with a little help from our friends.  I guess the consul and boat guy could have been women, but this was 1932, after all.  Let’s not ask for miracles.

Full disclosure:  I stopped paying a lot of attention after Fiance sets off to save the day.  I did look up and watch the dramatic conclusion.  It was climactic and not unearned.  On the whole, I feel Island of Lost Souls is not the usual cheesy fare I delight in writing about.  I enjoyed it and do not rule out watching it again sometime.

 

A Metaphor on Mental Meanderings Monday

As regular readers know, I have been having trouble writing lately.  This morning before work, I opened my notebook (for those just tuning in, the spiral-bound paper kind) and penned the following:

Once again I draw a metaphor between writing and running.  One one reason, I have not been doing enough of either.  In many respects it is a sound comparison.  Both can be difficult.  Both are wonderful when going well, painful when not.  You have to get through the painful parts to get to the good parts.

The most important aspect of either is:  You have to do it. You can’t just sit and think about it, although some thought is necessary.  It does not count just to by the best running shoes, socks and bras, nor yet a fine new notebook and perfect pen.  You can’t just stretch, and you can’t just make notes and outlines (I personally have never successfully worked form nor even completed an outline, although I am a prodigious note-maker).

I don’t know how much further I can go with this, but at least it got my pen moving.

After writing that much, I turned back a few pages and wrote a few more notes on the murder mystery I am writing for a fundraiser for the Herkimer County Historical Society (preview of coming attractions).  I know I said you can’t just write notes, but notes are a very important part of murder mysteries.  They are not just notes I write from.  They are notes I give the actors to help them build their characters and aid them in the improvised sections of the performance.  Just to give you a little peek into how these murder mysteries are put together.

I guess I don’t know if my little comparison between running and writing has any value to any other writers nor yet holds any interest for any readers.  However, it worked pretty well as a pep talk for myself, and I’m going to call it good enough for a Monday Mental Meanderings.  This blog is just about to go All Tempest All The Time, and right now, I have to get ready for rehearsal.  I hope to see you all on Tired Tuesday.

 

Wrist to Forehead Bad Seed

We are watching The Bad Seed, a DVD of one of our favorite cheesy movies.  Spoiler Alert:  I’m going to give away major plot points to this movie, if not the ending.  I don’t know if I’ll give away the ending and I know that by the time I finish the post I shall be far too lazy to go back and edit this paragraph.  In my defense, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday.  If you will not accept this defense, I will explain, shut up.

The Bad Seed, for the uninitiated is a movie made in 1956 about Rhoda, a little girl who kills people, and the devastating effect this has on her mother, Christine.  It was considered very shocking at the time, first as a novel, then as a Broadway play.  Who could believe that a sweet little girl was a murderer?  And that she had inherited the murderous gene from her grandmother?  Apparently her mother was just a carrier.  Well, I guess a lot of things skip a generation.

Steven’s biggest problem with the movie is that Rhoda right away seems like the kind of bad-tempered brat that might kill people.  She is supposed to be the perfect little girl.  She wears dresses, she keeps her room clean, she makes perfect curtsies at appropriate times.  The busybody landlady wishes she had “just such a little girl.”  We’re all supposed to buy into it too, apparently, and be shocked as we slowly realize what she is really like.  Steven does not see how it can even be a mild surprise much less a shock.  I have to agree.

My biggest problem, though, is that she never really cops to being a a murder.  Everything is, “But it wasn’t my fault!”  If Claude Dagel hadn’t said he was going to tell on her, she wouldn’t have had to kill him!  If he would have just quietly drowned when she pushed him off the dock, she wouldn’t have had to hit him with her shoe.  At least that would have been manslaughter, although this point is not thoroughly hashed out in the dialogue.

Steven is also bothered by the close-mindedness of Rhoda’s grandfather, Christine’s adoptive father, who pours self-righteous cold water on the theory of the “bad seed.”  Christine, who has been chewing up the scenery ever since little Claude’s death was announced on the radio (providentially, as it often is in movies, as soon as the characters just happen to turn it on), is horrified when she realizes her biological mother was a beautiful murderess.

The high points of the movie are the two scenes with Eileen Heckert as the drunken mother of the murdered little boy.  What a piece of acting!  She lift the movie temporarily above the melodramatic abyss.

I probably could do a much better write-up for this movie, and perhaps I will sometime.  I’m pretty sure I have mentioned the movie before, although a quick search of my posts did not show it.  I say, no matter.  It is Wrist to Forehead Sunday, and I have written something.  Have a lovely rest of your weekend.

 

Not Enough Monsters on Slacker Saturday

All I want to do is sit on my couch, crochet, and watch a monster movie.  Taking a nap would be a nice Plan B, but it is a little late in the day for that.  I was going to make a Scattered Saturday post but feared it would be such a lame one that I decided to go with Slacker Saturday instead.  I think I’ll share a couple of pictures, though, to liven things up.

As I mentioned, I had rehearsal for The Tempest in Little Falls..  It was not an official rehearsal but the meeting of a few characters to go over lines for one of our scenes.  I shall now share with you a picture I took of last Thursday’s Preview Performance, which, alas, includes none of the people who weer at today’s meeting.

Prospera and Ariel, discussing Ariel’s employment situation.

As you can see, we had a nice sized audience.  Enough to fill the chairs, with a some people standing behind, although that may only have been so they could make a fast getaway.  After all,  a few of them had dogs.

This was a good angle for me to watch the scene from.

This one is a little blurry, but you can see the audience a little better.  I think they enjoyed it.

Also not as clear as I would have liked, but showing two more characters.

You can see Ariel and Ferdinand in this one.  They are the love interest, although that is really just a subplot.  Still, they make a cute little couple.

I see none of the pictures feature the “monster,” Caliban, so I can’t connect up with my first line about watching a monster movie.  Oh well, what do you want from me on Slacker Saturday? In my defense, our rehearsal was from two to almost four in the blazing sunshine.  You know how that fries my brain (and if you don’t know, I’m telling you now: it fries my brain).  On to the monster movie, which may feature in tomorrow’s Wrist to Forehead Sunday post.

 

Short on Excuses, Long on Monsters: It’s Lame Post Friday!

If ever there was a day I needed Lame Post Friday, this is it.  Fortunately, it is in fact Friday, the day I have decreed that I am allowed to make a really lame post.  I know, what is my excuse the rest of the time?  Well, regular readers know, I have different excuses on different days.  However, my purpose today is not to muddle around with excuses but to make a short, reasonably entertaining post and get back to enjoying my Friday.

Sons of bitchin’ graboids! Pardon my french.

This may be worthy of Non-Sequitur Thursday, but we can’t always have these things exactly when we would like to.  I went into Downloads on our laptop, looking for something to pep up my post a little.  I could not see what this was a picture of, so I inserted it in the post, thinking I could always delete it if I didn’t like it.  But how could I delete a scene from Tremors, one of our favorite movies!  We never saw any of the sequels nor yet the television show.  I felt they might taint my memory of the beloved original.

When in doubt, there is always Nosferatu.

I recently found this picture of one of my all-time favorite guys.  I shared it on Facebook, just because, and now I share it with you, for a similar reason.

I would SO buy this book if I ever found it!

For the sake of using three pictures (it’s kind of a thing with me), I include a beautiful pulp fiction paperback cover.  Now that I am looking at it, I see it is a novelization of a movie.  Interesting.  I would still buy the book, even though I do not care for novelizations.  I have a minor collection of pulp fiction paperbacks which I purchased purely because I find the covers so delicious.

So this is my Friday Lame Post for the week. It entertained me to write it.  I hope at least some of my readers are likewise entertained.

 

What’s Wrong with Monsters, Anyways?

He’s an ex-marine.

When in doubt, lead with the picture of the half-clothed muscular guy.  Oh dear, was that sexist and exploitative?  I was just trying to get your attention.  These are more pictures from LiFT Theatre Company’s preview performance of The Tempest last Thursday at Benton’s Landing in Little Falls (see yesterday’s post, if you haven’t already).  The chest-baring dude is our Caliban, a son of a witch (no, really, his mother was a witch; she’s not actually in the play, but they mention her) and kind of a monster (although the guys that call him “Monster” are drunk).

It’s too bad her face is in shadow; I’ll try to get better shot for a future post.

And here is our Ariel, a tricksy spirit who is servant to Prospera, the deposed Duchess of Milan.  I don’t have a great picture of Prospera, but here is a not too awful one of her and her daughter, Miranda.

Don’t worry; she’s nicer to Miranda in other scenes.

 

Antonia is in the foreground; Trinculo is on book.

Trinculo is one of the fellows who calls Caliban “Monster.”  Caliban is apparently not offended by this form of address.  Right now Trinculo is “on book.”  For the uninitiated, that means he is standing by in case an actor forgets a line.  The actor has only to yell, “Line!” and the prompter supplies it.  In the movies, I’ve seen prompters backstage during performances, loudly whispering forgotten lines to hapless actors on stage.  I personally have never been in a play where this was the case.  However, we presented the Preview Performance as a Work on Progress.  Hence, the prompter.

Astute readers may have noticed that I have referred to people by their character names only.  Well, you see, I did not want to take a chance on misspelling anybody’s name, and I do not have ready access to this information.  I know, real bloggers research this sort of thing in advance.  And here we come to the ugly truth about me.  I can’t worry about that now.  I have rehearsal in less than two hours and I haven’t even showered yet.    Additionally, today is Non-Sequitur Thursday.  I’ll just slap a catchy headline on and hope for the best.

Oh crap, now I have to think of a catchy headline.

 

A Few Pics from the Preview

You know, time does not fly JUST when you are having fun.  It flies other times, too.  Not usually at work, of course.  I’m not at work right now (I can’t get online at work, for one reason).  Time flies when you have a limited amount of it and a great number of things you were hoping to get done.  Well, I just won’t get everything done, that’s all.  And I will not make the blog post as long as I had hoped (some people may not find that to be a tragedy, I’m sure).

Today’s post was to have been a cross between Wordless Wednesday and Wuss-out Wednesday.  For one reason, I wanted to share the pictures I took at last week’s preview performance of The Tempest in Little Falls.  However, it seems I have quite a few shots, and my internet keeps going on (bad modem?  lousy router? operator error?).   My new plan (my plans are nothing if not flexible!) is to spread the pictures out over a few posts.  It! Could! Work!

“I don’t always wear pumpkin pants. But when I do, it is for Shakespeare.”

I led with one of my favorite shots.  This is Ferdinand, the son of Alonso, the king of Naples.  He really was posing like The Most Interesting Man in the World.  As a matter of fact, in the play, Miranda finds Ferdinand the most interesting man in the world.  Of course, she does not have much basis for comparison.

This was also described as a pirate outfit.

This is our director.  He also plays one of the sailors in the first scene of the play then goes on to lay Stefano, the king’s drunken butler.  One thing we do in community theatre is multi-task!

They may look nice, but they are up to no good!

These are Antonia and Sebestian.  Antonia has deposed her sister, Prospera, the rightful Duchess of Milan.   They spend a good amount of time in Act II making fun of my character, Gonzalo.

Looking regal and kingly.

And this is Alonso, the King of Naples.

You may have noticed that a number of the names begin with the same letter: Alonso and Antonia (Antonio in the original script).  Sebastian and Stefano.  There is also a Francisco, to get mixed up with Ferdinand.  I couldn’t believe Shakespeare could do such a thing!  When I start to name my characters, I write the alphabet at the top of the page and cross out letters as I use them, just to avoid such confusion.  The fellow who plays Alonso is also a writer. When I remarked about the alliterative names (the one time I do NOT like alliteration), he said, “Yeah, Shakespeare made a rookie mistake.”  I have to love someone who thus off-handedly accuses Shakespeare of a rookie mistake.  Rock on, Alonso!

Ooh, look everybody, I’m over 400 words!  I may have wussed out, but I am far from wordless (really, am I ever wordless?  Those who know me in person will tell you I am NOT).  I hope to see you all on Non-Sequitur Thursday.

 

Back on Track? Not Exac’

See what I did there?  I was going for a jazzy kind of thing, like in “I Get a Kick Out You” when Louis Armstrong sings, “I get no kick from cocaine!  If I took a sniff it would bore me terrif’…”

That by way of introduction to a Running Commentary post.  I have not been running very much lately and in fact did not intend to run today.  I felt too tired and my legs felt stiff.  Then I thought my legs might feel less stiff if I exercised them. Maybe a nice walk, I thought.  I have been working on my feet for the past two (ten-hour) days, but pacing between machines is not the same as taking a walk.  Then I thought, oh what the hell, and got into running clothes.  I did not have to run for a long time, I reasoned.  Twenty minutes, half hour tops.  After all, I was rebuilding.  And I almost never at any time run very fast.

Today I ran even slower than usual.  It was a shuffle, it was a plod.  I figured anybody looking at me might think, “I can do better than that!” and thus be encouraged to reach their own fitness goals.  But I kept going.  I wondered if there were any 5K’s around here in the near vicinity.  Could I run 5 kilometers?  Did I want to run in a 5K?  The answers to the last two questions were yes, and no. But I kept going.

As I was running down Caroline Street, I noticed a kid on a bicycle a couple of blocks ahead of me.  Was that the chubby-legged swine that gave me the finger when I was running some time ago?  Yes, I remember petty little insults from long ago, although I try not to dwell on them.  I don’t think it was the same kid.  In any case, he was far enough and headed further away from me that I did not have to worry about further insults, if any.

It was not particularly difficult to run, but it wasn’t much fun either.  I wondered how long I should run for.  Maybe less than 20 minutes?  No, I could make it for 20.  More than 20?  Let’s not push it.  I passed a guy sitting on his porch with his feet up.  I would certainly rather be doing that, but I could not share that thought with the guy, because he was talking on a cell phone.  I like to interact with people as I run by.  I ran by a little kid on a bicycle with training wheels.

“Hey, buddy, will you give me a ride home on the handlebars?  I’m small!”

His mother chuckled.  Of course it was a joke: I know I am not particularly small, especially where I sit.  I started to chuckle myself, picturing my fat butt fitting on those little handlebars.  If I didn’t break the bike, which was likely to happen and not likely to be funny.

I ended up running for 22 minutes, my favorite number.  For once my cool-down walk did not feel terrific (terrif’?).  However, I ran, I wrote a blog post about it.  I’m calling that win on Tired Tuesday.

 

Not Really a Monstrous Monday

When in doubt, include a picture of a monster.

I added that picture after I wrote the following two paragraphs.  I kind of ran dry after mentioning the cooler temperatures and zipped over to Facebook seeking inspiration.

I’m afraid this is a Monday Mental Meanderings post, and not very mental at that.  What can I say, it is Monday and I’m tired.  I know, other people are tired.  I’m sure there are people who are more tired than I am; there are certainly people who work harder than I do, that have more on their plate I have, oh yeah, and are thinner, smarter, better writers… where was I going with this?

It has not been a heinous day.  For one reason, the temperatures cooled off.  I love cooler temperatures.

I have rehearsal in less than an hour.  I did study my lines for a while on break at work today.  I feel moderately ready, although there are a few speeches I am still shaky on.  I will have time to look over them again before we do that scene, I hope.

I also wrote while on break.  I started a post on an old monster movie I watched on Sunday.  I do not think it is a cheesy movie, although the science in which the mad scientist indulges is definitely spurious, a staple of many cheesy movies.  I was writing the post in my head as I worked (my job doesn’t take a lot of brain power, luckily) then tried to put the words on paper once break started.  Of course some of the words were different.  You’ll have that.  Then as I wrote them, I thought of other ways to write what I wanted to say.  I’ll work on it some more.  It is fun to write.  I’m glad I started doing it again, however ineffectually.

Now I must brush my teeth and get ready for rehearsal. It will be fun.  There are very nice people in the cast.  Ooh, I still have to write about last Thursday’s preview performance and share some of the pictures I took.  A preview of coming attractions.  Happy Monday, everyone, even you, Frankenstein’s Monster.

 

Pedestrian Post with Pictures

Steven and I decided to take a little stroll after dinner, so I brought along my Tablet to take a few pictures.  It was a lovely afternoon for a stroll.  After stopping to chat with  neighbor, I saw some flowers I wanted to snap.

This is an apartment building that used to be a school.

Hmm… I guess that one did not come out very clearly, but I liked the purple flowers.

Maybe I’ll go back after dark and try to get a picture of these lit up.

Steven noticed some solar lights and wondered if ours still work.  We did not put them out this year.  It’s kind of a rebuilding year for our lawn; we have not done much with it except get the nice young man who lives across the street to mow it for us.

Steven thinks this would make a delightful movie/opera house.

Eventually we turned down Main Street, and I suggested I take a picture of this building, which we have long admired.  The “for sale” sign that I had noticed there previously was gone.  I wondered if somebody had bought it or if they were just doing the trick of taking the sign down for a while so when they put it back up folks will think it is a new listing.

I love the color; the picture does not fully do it justice.

Continuing down the street, we saw a building that had seen better days, but there was one lovely flower in front of it, so I took its picture.  Soon we were approaching the Historic Four Corners, which regular readers may recall is a favorite spot of mine.

I wrote a blog post about this cemetery once, a long time ago.

This is the Herkimer Reformed Church.   I love the old gravestones.  Next I wanted a shot of the Suiter House, home of the Herkimer County Historical Society.

It’s even more interesting inside.

The house was built by Dr. A. Walter Suiter, who played a pivotal role in the trials of Chester Gillette and Roxalana Druse, two famous historical murderers of the area.  Steven played Dr. Suiter in the play Roxy, presented by the Historical Society at Ilion Little Theatre in 2015 (I played Roxy.  Perhaps you read a few of my blog posts about it).

Across the street is the Herkimer County Courthouse, where Chester Gillette and Roxalana Druse were tried for their respective murders.

Still a magnificent-looking building.

Of course I had to take a picture of the 1834 Jail, which housed both Gillette and Druse.

Who put that tree in the way!

Steven suggested I take a picture of him on the steps.

“Try to look like Dr. Suiter,” I suggested.

“In my party shorts with my Mr. Incredible t-shirt,” he said, as if he thought that was a problem.  He just smiled handsomely instead.

“Romeo, Romeo, wherefore are thou…” Oh, wait. Wrong play.

Continuing down Main Street, I took a picture of Christ Episcopal Church.

Another handsome, historical building.

We cut though the little park next to Basloe Library (another of my favorite places), and I got a picture of some nice flowers.

I did not read the NOTICE on the building. I hope it did not say not to take pictures of the flowers.

After that, I thought I had taken enough pictures, so we continued our walk back home.  Now I see I am over 550 words and I have successfully avoided having another Wrist to Forehead Sunday post.  I say, not a bad ending to the weekend.