Sunday, August 26, 2012

Nicole Kidman strips off for V Magazine




Nicole Kidman strips off for V Magazine

Nicole Kidman casts her wholesome image, and her clothes, aside for the latest issue of 'V Magazine'.
The Telegraph
BY LAURA HUBBERT | 23 AUGUST 2012

Nicole Kidman 'gets cheeky' for V Magazine. Styled by Carlyne Cerf de Duzeele
 Photo: MARIO TESTINO/V MAG
We're used to seeing Nicole Kidman on the red carpet - elegant, ladylike, demure, are the words that usually spring to mind. But this is not how you would describe her latest shoot for V Magazine 's travel-themed issue. Nicole stripped off except for a bottom-baring Chanel skirt (if you could call it a skirt) with kohl-rimmed eyes and a shaggy Debby Harry-esque bob to further ramp up the sex appeal.

According to the Daily Mail , photographer Mario Testino said all the right things to put the 45-year-old actress at ease. "Beautiful, beautiful," he was heard exclaiming during the shoot, "You are so hot it is beyond! Look at your body! It is incredible."

Nicole dares to bare for photographer Mario Testino MARIO TESTINO/V MAG
It's likely that the shoot was somewhat inspired by Kidman's latest role in The Paperboy , where she plays a trashy woman from the southern US who obsessively writes to prisoners. V Magazine founder James Kaliardos explained his vision for the shoot in an email to New York Magazine , saying: "I wanted to strip Nicole's image bare... I kept saying, 'This isn't Portrait of a Lady'. " He seemed pleased, however, with Kidman's attitude to the shoot: "She barely looked in the mirror and just said, 'Great'."
The Australian actress showed off her sexy side in the V Magazine shoot MARIO TESTINO/V MAG
And going by what she says in the accompanying interview, Nicole should be pleased with the results. "I don't really make decisions, I go with the flow. If I were a strategically minded person, I think I would have a far different career," she said. "But I would be more outlandish if I could. A lot of times you just don't get the chance."
For the full interview and more photos of naked Nicole, head over to V Magazine and pick up a copy of the Travel Issue, out August 30th.

Friday, August 24, 2012

The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng / Review

Japanese garden in Yokohama
 Photograph: Photo Japan

The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng - review
Kapka Kassabova on an informative, if bland, Booker-longlisted novel

The House of Doors by Tan Twan Eng review / Tragedy in the tropics


Kapka Kassabova
Friday 24 August 2012

I

t is impossible to resist the opening sentence of this sumptuously produced, Booker-longlisted novel: "On a mountain above the clouds once lived a man who had been the gardener of the Emperor of Japan." As with Tan Twan Eng's first novel, The Gift of Rain, in a setting of quasi-mythical lushness a refined, patrician character must come to terms with a painful history. Amid "the stillness of the mountains" and "the depth of the silence", a story slowly unfolds. Very, very slowly.

The narrator is the austere Supreme Court judge Teoh Yun Ling, who has retired from public service in Kuala Lumpur to return to the Cameron Highlands, where she has unfinished business: her past and that of her country. As Yun-Ling reconnects with old friends at the hill station and the tone becomes contemplative, we slip into chronologically complex flashbacks. Slowly, the narrative turns to the main dramatic event: the fascinating relationship between Yun Ling and gardener Nakamura Aritomo.

Self-exiled from imperial Japan after a dispute with his employer Emperor Hirohito, Aritomo settles in the hilltops of Malaya and begins to build Yugiri, a "garden of evening mists". Into his life comes independent Yun Ling, daughter of a prosperous Chinese Malaysian family, and the sole survivor of a prisoner-of-war camp. It is 1951, and she is a prosecutor of war criminals and a hater of all things Japanese – except one. Her request to Aritomo is simple: build a garden for her sister who perished in the camp, and who loved the gardens of Kyoto. The taciturn Aritomo is not in the habit of pleasing anyone or apologising for his country's crimes. Instead he offers to teach Yun Ling the art of Japanese gardening, for two years. Almost against herself, she becomes his apprentice, then his lover, and finally, the canvas for his masterpiece: horimono, a full-body Japanese tattoo. The chapters in which this redemptive relationship unfolds through the rich metaphors of gardening, tattooing, tea-ceremonies, and Zen philosophy are the psychological core of the novel.

Meanwhile, we learn about existential gardening concepts such as shakkei, "borrowed scenery"; that "every aspect of gardening is a form of deception"; that the "Art of Setting Stones" is back-breaking; that a garden is the expression of spiritual states. We learn about archery, which Aritomo practices as a form of meditation. We learn about tea-growing, and about the sexually charged practice of horimono (did you know that the subject becomes addicted to the pain?), and chilling details about Japanese war-camps where those such as Yun Ling were "guests of the Emperor", as the obscene term went.

This is a novel that overflows with historical and specialist information, and like The Gift of Rain, it showcases Tan Twan Eng as a master of cultural complexities. The secondary character, Magnus, is a South African whose heart is in Malaya, and who – like Yun Ling – becomes entangled in the pre-independence turmoil of the 1950s. Indeed, all the characters, including the righteous Yun Ling and the wise Aritomo, are slowly revealed to be morally ambiguous, compromised by actions that haunt them. The theme here is remembering and forgetting, illustrated by a suitable double metaphor: there is a Mnemosyne garden statue, and Yun Ling suffers from aphasia.

This novel ticks many boxes: its themes are serious, its historic grounding solid, its structure careful, its old-fashioned ornamentalism respectable. The reason I found it impossible to love is the quality of the writing. There is no discernible personality in the dutiful, dull voice of Yun Ling, and non-events stalk us on every page: "for a timeless moment I looked straight into his eyes"; "For a long while he does not say anything. Finally he begins to speak in a slow, steady voice." The self-conscious dialogue resembles a history lesson collated for the benefit of the western reader, and everything is ponderously "like" something else, so it takes twice as long: "We were like two moths around a candle, circling closer and closer to the flames, waiting to see whose wings would catch fire first." Despite the dramatic events, the overall effect is one of surprising blandness, like something you've read before.

 Kapka Kassabova's Twelve Minutes of Love is published by Portobello.

THE GUARDIAN




Obituaries / Tony Scott


Tony Scott


A former advertising director who followed his brother Ridley (now Sir Ridley) to Hollywood, his glossy, commercial sensibility powered films such as Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop II and Days of Thunder – testosterone-filled movies described by one critic as “visual amphetamines”.
A director with little interest in ideas or morality, he created a visual sheen that lingered in the memory long after narrative and characters were forgotten. Although he was accused of vulgarity and excessive love of hardware, Scott instinctively understood the power of images and was obsessive in his quest for visual impact.
But for all the reviewing community’s artistic unease, Scott was that rarest of beasts: a British filmmaker with a blockbuster reputation. That he lived in Hollywood, collected Ferraris and Harleys and hustled through relationships, only further alienated the sensibilities of his European peers.
He had extraordinary energy, producing and directing movies, making advertisements and, with his brother “Rid”, buying and managing Shepperton studios. Often involved with 20 projects simultaneously, he relaxed by climbing mountains and running. If his films were often accused of having a shiny core where the insight or empathy might have been, no one disputed his contention that his interest lay with “people who live their life on the edge”.
Anthony David Scott was born in North Shields on July 21 1944, seven years after his brother Ridley, and educated at Stockton-on-Tees. He enjoyed painting and rugby, while the proximity of the moors encouraged a love of the wild he retained all his life. Each summer in his youth he hitchhiked to the Alps to climb.
While at grammar school, he appeared as the title character in his brother’s first short film, Boy On A Bicycle. He then studied painting at Sunderland Art School, Leeds College of Art and Design and finally, on a scholarship, the Royal College .
Realising that he was unlikely to sustain a career as a painter, he joined his brother’s fledgling television production company. Ridley recalled: “I knew he had a fondness for cars, so I told him, 'Come work with me and within a year you’ll have a Ferrari.’ And he did.”
Ridley also taught Tony the techniques of making lush, high-quality shorts and, when he left for Hollywood, passed on several gold-tinted franchises, including the Hovis advert, featuring another boy on a bicycle. While Ridley enjoyed early success with Alien and Blade Runner, Tony made thousands of commercials, evolving a singular visual style and winning awards for his work for Chanel, Marlboro and Levis.
After Ridley’s success, and that of fellow “out-of-advertising” British filmmakers such as Alan Parker, Adrian Lyne and David Puttnam, it was inevitable that Tony Scott would try his luck in Hollywood.
But his first feature – the dark, moody The Hunger (1983), starring David Bowie and Catherine Deneuve – was almost his last. A self-consciously arty, Gothic tale of a vampire forced to find a cure for her rapidly ageing lover, the film was a self-confessed “total knock-off of Nic Roeg’s Performance”, and most memorable for a lesbian love scene between Deneuve and Susan Sarandon.
Despite sumptuous cinematography (albeit compromised by Scott’s fatal attraction to the shorthand of advertising — coloured filters, exquisitely photographed smoke, fluttering curtains, shafts of light streaming through blinds), the film was mauled by the critics and Hollywood insiders. The director recalled that, after the first screening, “on my parking space my name was painted out. I couldn’t get anyone on the phone. Nobody had the balls to tell me I’d been fired.”
He returned to making commercials until the producer Jerry Bruckheimer hired him to direct Top Gun (1986). Initially he couldn’t “see” the movie. “I wanted to make Apocalypse Now on an aircraft carrier. Then I got it. It’s rock-and-roll, silver jets in a bright blue sky, good-looking guys.” Taking his “look” from a Bruce Weber photograph — Scott was a self-confessed magpie — he created the ultimate feelgood movie in which Tom Cruise’s air force recruit tried to pass out top of the flying academy and retain the love of Kelly McGillis.
The film, described by one critic as “a sleek, pulsating paean to testosterone”, took $350 million at the box office, propelled Cruise to superstar status and Scott on to the Hollywood A-list.
He was rewarded with Beverly Hills Cop II (1987), a hugely successful action sequel starring Eddie Murphy’s wisecracking, rule-busting policeman which confirmed Scott as a director capable of delivering high-energy drama loosely attached to a plot.
Both hits were made with Jerry Bruckheimer, who kept Scott’s less commercial instincts at bay, and when Scott made his next film without Bruckheimer, it showed. Revenge (1990) was a darker thriller, a story of adultery in Mexico starring Kevin Costner and Madeleine Stowe. It leaned towards a darker palette reminiscent of the paintings of Francis Bacon that had inspired Scott as a student – and was panned.
Back in the cockpit with his usual producer and a familiar star, Days of Thunder (1991) was Top Gun in a different machine. With fighter pilots replaced by racing drivers, Cruise reprised his role as the talented but reckless young buck who has to control his emotions as much as his motor. But the movie failed to repeat his earlier success, the public evidently taking the view that there was no point in watching the same film twice.
Scott was conscious that he was being typecast as a director of blockbusters, so when he was introduced to a video store employee, unknown scriptwriter and fledgling filmmaker called Quentin Tarantino, he tried to buy the rights to True Romance and Reservoir Dogs . Tarantino refused to sell Reservoir Dogs, using the money Scott paid for True Romance to fund filming it.
But his script for True Romance, a Bonnie and Clyde-themed tale of a hooker and her lover on the run from almost everyone, was sharp-edged and allowed Scott the opportunity to focus on individuals as much as action. Although it attracted a cast including Brad Pitt, Dennis Hopper, Val Kilmer, Gary Oldman, Patricia Arquette, Christian Slater and, in a cameo, Samuel L Jackson, initial reactions were lukewarm — though it attained cult status after the by now ludicrously hip Tarantino blessed it.
Having established his ability to handle the egos of multiple stars in a single picture, the permanently pink baseball-capped, cigar-toting Scott had little trouble attracting Hollywood’s finest to his projects. Crimson Tide (1995) starred Gene Hackman and Denzel Washington as two submariners without radio contact to base who take opposing views over whether they should launch a nuclear attack on a Russian island.
The Fan (1996), which portrayed a baseball fan stalking his hero, starred Robert De Niro, Ellen Barkin, Wesley Snipes and Benicio Del Toro, and was followed by Enemy of the State (1998), a hi-tech thriller in which Will Smith’s hapless lawyer was forced to take on the government machine. An opportunity for the director to pay homage to Francis Ford Coppola’s paranoid classic The Conversation, what Enemy of the State lacked in originality it made up in pace and in Gene Hackman’s beautifully understated portrayal of a tired, cynical investigator.
Spy Game (2001), which had to be cut after the September 11 terrorist attacks, again examined the not always beneficent power of the state. The film portrayed retiring spymaster Robert Redford’s attempts to spring his young partner (Brad Pitt) from a Chinese jail, where he faced execution for spying, despite the refusal of his bosses to help.
Scott’s technical skills and his obsession with cinematography at the expense of narrative were again visible in Man On Fire (2004). This starred Denzel Washington as a tortured ex-CIA agent hired to protect a child in Mexico City who was, to no one’s surprise, kidnapped. Displaying all Scott’s capacity for hi-tech mayhem with hand-held camera shots and jump-cut editing, the hackneyed story bounded along furiously towards its inevitable conclusion.
Domino (2005), which starred Keira Knightley as the heiress-turned-bounty hunter Domino Harvey, was universally panned, as much for its woeful miscasting as for the over-exuberant editing which elbowed what little plausible narrative there was aside.
Denzel Washington also starred in two of Scott’s more recent films, The Taking Of Pelham 123 (2009) and Unstoppable (2010). Latterly Scott had been producing for television as well as films.
For a director of such energy and success, Scott was a surprisingly soft-spoken man who retained his Geordie accent all his life. He indulged his love of fast cars, motorbikes and women, and his highly publicised affair with Sylvester Stallone’s ex-wife and the female lead of Beverly Hills Cop II, Brigitte Nielson, put paid to his own second marriage.
Reportedly a man who needed only three hours’ sleep a night, he awoke to three cups of black coffee and a large Monte Cristo – the first of 12 each day. He was a passionate mountaineer who claimed to be never happier than when “5,000ft up on a cliff face”. An art collector of catholic tastes, he acquired works by artists ranging from Robert Rauschenberg to Guido Reni.
The Scott brothers did not suffer from sibling rivalry; rather, they worked together over Shepperton, understood their respective strengths and rejoiced at each other’s success. “Ridley makes films for posterity,” Tony once observed. “My films are more rock ’n’ roll.”
Tony Scott, who apparently committed suicide by jumping from a bridge in Los Angeles, married three times and divorced twice. His second marriage was to the BBC producer Glynis Staunton. He is survived by his third wife, Donna, and their two children.
Tony Scott, born July 21 1944, died August 19 2012

The Top 10 Henry James Novels

Henry James

The Top 10 Henry James Novels


By Michael Gorra
Aug 24, 2012

Michael Gorra's new critical biography, Portrait of a Novel: Henry James and the Making of an American Masterpiece, tells the story of how James' most popular and enduring novel, The Portrait of a Lady, came to be written; and of what happened to him because of it. Gorra, the Mary Augusta Jordan Professor of English at Smith College, gives us his favorites of the prolific writer's novels and longer stories.


Some readers like the bright effervescent comedy of early James, where the dialogue can remind you of Mozart; others the grave majesty of his late style--those sentences that seem to pulse with the very force of thought. Me, I’ll take them both. He’s the most prolific of great American writers: twenty novels, over a hundred stories and novellas, and volume after volume of travel sketches and criticism. He’s also the most polished, and his critics used to complain that he wrote too well, that his books weren’t the comfort food they were used to. Nowadays, of course, he seems like the voice of leisure itself, of a world with the time to look and think and linger. These are the novels and tales to which I return with the most pleasure—the ones I most look forward to rereading.


1. The Portrait of a Lady (1881) - When James began this book he was a promising young writer with a special line in depicting the lives of Americans in Europe. When he finished it he had become a figure in the history of the novel itself. This story of a young American woman in England and Italy—of her stifling marriage and her desperate fight for freedom—stands as a link between two centuries. It’s the bridge on which the loose expansive Victorian novel flowed over into the formal concentration of modernism; the link, say, between George Eliot and Virginia Woolf.



2. The Golden Bowl (1904) - Sure, it’s hard, and you’ll feel proud of yourself when you finish. It’s meant to be hard, because James’ characters are all trying to figure out what the others know about a situation that none of them can quite bring him or herself to name. Maggie Verver’s best friend is sleeping with her husband; the best friend who has also just married her fabulously rich widowed father. Watching Maggie awake into a pained consciousness of the world around her—well, it’s like an enormous wave that grows and grows and never quite breaks.



3. “The Aspern Papers” (1888) - Lies and secrets, Venice and treachery. An old woman guards a clutch of love letters from a long-dead poet; an editor wants them and will do almost anything to get them. James wrote many stories about writers and artists, and thought so hard about the relation of art and life that he burned many of his own letters and hoped that he would have no biographer. This story will make anybody who does write about him wonder about the claims of privacy and the inevitability of betrayal.



4. What Maisie Knew (1897) - One reviewer said this novel was fully as indecent as if it had been written in French. It’s the first important novel in English to turn on a child custody case, and more timely now than ever. This family is blended in all the wrong ways, and little Maisie—whose age is never specified—has to puzzle it all out.



5. The Ambassadors (1903) - James’ own favorite among his works, and a book consciously based upon a cliché, the old idea that as soon as an American arrives in Paris his whole set of moral beliefs and practices will immediately fall to pieces. Yet suppose it’s all for the best? For with Puritanism in tatters, just think about the possibilities for growth and change…



6. Washington Square (1880) - Set in New York at right about the time of James’s own birth in 1843, this short novel describes a provincial city that didn’t yet reach much north of 14th Street. His prose was never more epigrammatically brilliant than in this book about a stubborn daughter and a pigheaded father. My students always love it, and they immediately get its point—so now I’m waiting to see what my own daughter thinks about it.



7. The Bostonians (1886) - Any good liberal—and James was one—who has ever chafed at the excesses of his or her own side will love the satire of this book’s opening chapters, which take on the whole of New England’s reforming spirit. (But Boston wasn’t ready to be laughed at; the book bombed.) A more enduring strength is its treatment of gender roles in post-Civil War America, and especially its account of what came to be known as a “Boston marriage”: the domestic partnership of two educated women, where our knowledge stops at the shut door of their room.



8. “Daisy Miller” (1878) - The story that made James’ reputation, the tale of an impossibly well-dressed American girl and her adventures in Europe. Look at her, taking a moonlight walk with an Italian in the Colosseum. Is she “fast” or just badly brought-up? Readers argued about her over the dinner table and in the pages of America’s magazines alike, and in the end Daisy is killed by bad manners. Only they aren’t her own.



9. “The Turn of the Screw” (1898) - The longest and greatest and scariest of James’ ghost stories. An isolated house, a high-strung governess, two charming children, and two dead servants. I’ve never forgotten reading it for the first time on a November midnight—when the ghost appeared I really did jump up from my chair. Read it once, and then read it again and see if you think it’s still the same story.



10. The Tragic Muse (1890) - I know, I know—for this last one I should pick an undisputed classic like The Wings of the Dove, the third of James’s clutch of late masterpieces, or maybe “The Beast in the Jungle,” his great tale of a blighted heart. But I’m fond of this underrated novel, James’s most thoroughly English book. Usually he shunned the multi-plotted novels of his Victorian peers. Here he pays them tribute instead, setting one narrative line in the world of the theater, and the other in British parliamentary politics. Each of them turns on the question of vocation, and neither of them really ends happily. James’s first readers always complained about that with him, but today it’s just one of the many things that makes him seem our contemporary.





Thursday, August 23, 2012

James Thurber / The Bear Who Let It Alone




The Bear Who Let It Alone
By James Thurber

In the woods of the Far West there once lived a brown bear who could take it or let it alone. He would go into a bar where they sold mead, a fermented drink made of honey, and he would have just two drinks. Then he would put some money on the bar and say, "See what the bears in the back room will have," and he would go home. But finally he took to drinking by himself most of the day.
   He would reel home at night, kick over the umbrella stand, knock down the bridge lamps, and ram his elbows through the windows. Then he would collapse on the floor and lie there until he went to sleep. His wife was greatly distressed and his children were very frightened.
   At length the bear saw the error of his ways and began to reform. In the end he became a famous teetotaler and a persistent temperance lecturer. He would tell everybody that came to his house about the awful effects of drink, and he would boast about how strong and well he had become since he gave up touching the stuff. To demonstrate this, he would stand on his head and on his hands and he would turn cartwheels in the house, kicking over the umbrella stand, knocking down the bridge lamps, and ramming his elbows through the windows.
   Then he would lie down on the floor, tired by his healthful exercise, and go to sleep. His wife was greatly distressed and his children were very frightened.

 Moral: You might as well fall flat on your face as lean over too far backward.






Wednesday, August 22, 2012

James Thurber / The Last Flower






THE LAST FLOWER
by James Thurber

These are pictures from James Thurber's "A Thurber Carnival", most specifically "The Last Flower". It is a very compelling story and has a very universal theme. I set it to the Summer Overture from the movie "Requiem for a Dream" movie soundtrack.

http://youtu.be/X1RrEAroZbw