First, the film. I stumbled upon a 1970 movie called Brewster Mccloud a few years ago, when all the video rental stores were selling video tapes for like 25 cents to make room for the digital video disc medium. With a taste for the supersaturated and tacky, it seemed like a good pick by the cover and description. The film is about a young, reclusive creature named Brewster who resides in a fallout shelter in the astrodome in Huston, Texas. He is building a pair of wings and training his body in an attempt to eventually fly away. This may sound like an iccarus situation, but it's way more neccesary than all of that. His companion Louise cares for him, when he ventures to the outside world where people are oftentimes harsh, racist, and violent. He and Louise are birds trapped in human bodies, essentially. There are wierd car chases, a murder subplot, and a romantic interest (Shelly Duval, who i really love. This was actually her first time in a film.) who leads directly to Brewster's downfall. The movie deals with Human restraints and the things done in an attempt to feel as though we are free. The entire film is cut with another bird trapped in a human body, a professor relating bird life to the human experience - I think this is the best part about it. Out of print, but really worth seeing.
ZINE REVIEW Today I skimmed a zine called "a punk kid walks into a bar." from 1999 or so. Because you'll probably will never encounter it, here are the highlights.
"The thing about Godzilla. Does he hate people? In all the Godzilla movies I've seen, it just seems like he stumbles into the cities by accident, and then simply reacts when people start shooting at him. Poor Guy"
"when looking at someone far away with binoculars and they yawn, it is hard to tell if they are yawning or just very calming and controlledly screaming."
"all of my dreams involve combing my hair" and, aside from that I'm over it.
and finally, this is the band I have been waiting for for quite a while to come into my existence. They were truly ahead of their curve in 1981. I love the whine and candidness of these like neo-beatniks.
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