Tuesday, May 09, 2006

The Hot Club

Standing on the Hot Club deck on a beautiful Friday at 5 PM, the crowd was a steady flow, ebbing back and forth. It was a moveable feast. Two women next to me helped to dispose of empty bottles and they, like me, were just there to enjoy the day. After taking my empty bottle on the 3rd time, one of the young women said to me: "How about a tip?" I said "Seabiscuit in the second race." She responded, "Don't eat yellow snow."

There was a waiting line to get into the Hot Club. It went halfway across the parking lot. I had never seen that. Later, surrounded by a sea of humanity, I realized that there is quiet in the din.

It was Cinco de Mayo. And while Mr. D. couldn't be there I recalled his words of wisdom: "I go to an Irish pub on Cinco de Mayo and a Mexican bar on St. Patrick's Day."

Dr. John and I were taking about tattoos on women. Neither of us liked them. A woman walked by with her bare shoulder showing the 'B' that signifies the Boston Red Sox.

The HC won't allow motorcycles in the parking lot anymore. That hasn't deterred the bikers from coming, now they just park in the street. And truth be told, the bikers don't cause any problems. But the sight of several choppers in a row reminded me of the movie, one of the Clint Eastwood orangutan ones, when Clyde knocks over a chopper setting off a domino display of falling bikes.

The Herbster, who has been known to tell a story or two, told me that his friend once bumped into a motorcycle standing in a row with several others. The Bumper loudly exclaimed, "Whose piece of shit is this?" Herb said that when the owner stepped forward, the Bumper told him, "Mine is way better." Herb says that the Bumper then bought the bikers a round of drinks and soon all were the best of friends. That is if you believe Herb's story, of course.

My spies tell me that a certain regular was set up with a blind date. A girlfriend told the blind date that our guy was 'a little gray'. After the blind date met him she said, "It's all gray!"

Sunday night a woman was dancing to the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Give It Away. As she strutted her stuff, a male in her group told onlookers, "There's a party in her mouth and we're all coming."

Brendan was wearing a shirt that said, Jesus Saves, The Devil Spends.

The Victor told me that after reading my movie reviews, he checked out Rob Zombie's two flicks. He liked both House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil's Rejects. Vic said I should see The Night of the Flying Daggers.


Continuing what I started a few issues back, here is another of my favorite lesser-known gems. To Live and Die in LA has a pulsating score by Wang Chung, which parallels the fast pace of this action film noir.

Starring a young William Petersen (Manhunter, CSI) who relentlessly pursues counterfeiter Willem Dafoe, the movie never lets up on the gas. Director William Friedkin is known for the chase scene in his The French Connection. The one in To Live And Die In LA is even better.
Friedkin has a marvelous cast that also includes John Turturro, John Pankow, Dean Stockwell, Darlanne Fluegel and Robert Downey, Jr.'s dad.

In the DVD extras, Friedkin calls this his 'counterfeit movie' and not just because of the subject matter. The early scene showing Dafoe counterfeiting $20's is a classic in its own right. In the making of stuff, we learn that the whole crew could have been arrested for the counterfeit money that they made for the film and, in fact, the prop director took some souvenirs home and his son was arrested for trying to pass a fake $20 (with one-side!).

The chase scene took 6 weeks to film and was left until the end of the shoot. Petersen and Pankow were aware that if anything happened to them filming the chase, their scenes were already in the can and a movie could still be made.

The movie drips with cynicism and Friedkin has crafted a concoction that is at once exhilarating and sobering. This Machiavellian tale will toss you to and fro like a car careening out of control on a dangerous mountain curve. Hang on for the ride of your life.


Post a Comment

<< Home