THE LAST OF SHEILA Comments

Clinton Greene is a bastard. His wife is killed by a hit-and-run driver after a drunken blowout at a party. A year later a small circle of “friends” gather, at Clinton’s request, to spend a week on his yacht and play games. They all know that “games” with Clinton are usually at their expense. And it doesn’t take long for the man’s venom to ease out, in small, petty shots and more lingering, painful ways. Soon there are accidents, and then an apparent murder. The guests are all related to moviemaking in some fashion, and all harbor secrets.

I watched The Last of Sheila again last night, not even for the purpose of writing down thoughts, but just to let it wash over me again when I was having trouble deciding what to do with my evening. And these many decades later, the film’s charms have not lessened. It is one of those films I saw too young, then grew up and realized what the hell was actually being discussed.

But the most intriguing element to me - and it strikes me every single time when that credit rolls past - is that the film was written by Anthony Perkins & Stephen Sondheim:

So It Goes: Alien

No, I haven’t seen Romulus yet. I have read an awful lot about it, and a lot of opinions.

My hope is that the next Alien film will start with Ripley waking from her cryo-chamber on the Sulaco as it approaches Earth's primary orbital station. She looks in the mirror and realizes she has aged, resulting in Weaver muttering “well, fuck.” Cut to a station engineer and an on-call physician alternately explaining how the cryo-chamber malfunctioned on the trip home, causing her to very slowly age while in stasis. One of the side effects were the wild dreams she had about her lives and deaths on various worlds, the aliens, etc...and when she mentions them, the doctor and tech blanche, and she asks why. They explain, Earth was overrun by the xenomorphs years before, and what's left of mankind is safe aboard various stations circling the planet.

I mean, that’s all I’ve got so far…

R.I.P. Gena Rowlands

“We don't take the time to be vulnerable with each other” -JC

Work In Progress, Or Done? I Can’t Tell

Last two months have been, for the most part, creatively dry. Sat down last night and started this. Did some pics this morning. Started a new poem (or song) last week. But prior to that, nothing happening for many weeks.

Not sure if I should leave it as is (because I’m great at ruining something by going too far), or work on it. Either way, it feels goods to get started again.