#kinski

[bkblaise]

Kainess from my Twitter "Winning Blue Lock is just a piece of cake, right Ness?"

[tomtom0160]

[enlitment]

Karlova Koruna Château | Chlumec nad Cidlinou, Czech Republic

(look at all the books! It took a lot of restraint not to leaf through them)

[dustedmagazine]

Unlettered — Five Mile Point (Self-Released)

Unlettered wields a fuzzed-up guitar clangor, burying distant, disembodied voices under vibrating piles of distortion. Shoegaze-y glamor slides off into post-rock dissonance, the surfaces glimmering, the tension roiling beneath them. You’ll get a good whiff of Kinski’s trance-y chug, some angular anarchy a la Polvo and the submerged melodic felicity of Bailter Space, especially circa Wammo.

Unlettered is essentially a one-person project, centered around Mike Knowlton, who spent the 1990s in the NYC-based noise/punk/math band Gapeseed. Unlettered’s music unfurls more smoothly than this scratchy, scrappy, stop-start predecessor. Tunes like “The Great Dwindle” power on relentlessly towards the far horizon, trailing clanking bass notes, churning guitars and haunted vocals; cosmic wins out over chaotic.

Knowlton works mostly alone, but his wife Kelly Grimm guests on a couple of tracks. She channels Kim Gordon to his Thurston in droning “Median Coverage,” intoning mystic, uninflected poetry above a sinuous, reverberating framework.

I like “Dither” the best, with its clarion bass line cutting through crashing, fuzzing, oddly subdued guitar noise, so very like Kinski’s “Dayroom at Narita Int’l” in its blend of dream and mayhem. Over an album, however, the chug and churn gets repetitive. The droning mantra settles into a blur, even a bore, if it’s not violated occasionally. Unlettered is good but would be better if it kicked the doors down once in a while.  

Jennifer Kelly

[ich-hoere-dir-zu]

[radiophd]

kinski -- crybaby blowout

[bellamer]

The reason I’m scared for a Nightbreed revival or reboot is that I feel like they’d discard all of the other Nightbreed we barely know about and make all different characters instead of just expanding on already existing characters.

I think the only ones that would make it in a new adaptation are Kinski (maybe), Peloquin, Shuna Sassi, maybe Annastasjia’s comic story and then maybe Lude’s comic story.

But like I feel like they wouldn’t adapt Leroy Gomm or Chocolat or any of the others and that would piss me off. Like a lot.

[omegaremix]

Omega Radio for April 3, 2016; #109.

Fight Amp “Goner”

Free Children Of Earth “Terminal Stasis”

Primitive Weapons “Quitter’s Anthem”

You Fucking Die “Sterile Art”

Pigs “Another Hour In Dick City”

UXO “Blind Suicide”

Summer Cannibals “Full Of It”

Scumbag Millionaire “Dead End”

KEN Mode “Daeodon”

Dirty Nil, The “Wrestle Yu To Husker Du”

Church Of Misery “Make Them Die Slowly”

Deja Vega “Friends In High Places”

Black Cobra “Negative Reversal”

War On Women “Servilia”

Chelsea Wolfe “Carrion Flowers”

Making Fuck “Mormon Guilt”

Deafheaven “Come Back”

Whores. “Daddy’s Money”

Baroness “Morningstar”

Drug Church “Then Try”

Primitive Weapons “Or Do Ideas Have You”

You Fucking Die “This Is How Words Are Made”

Super Unison “Close Your Eyes”

Kinski “Detroit Trickle Down”

Meshuggah “Obzen”

Ironboss “Motherfucker”

Neurosis “Locust Star”

Boris & Merzbow “Huge”

Deluxe metalcore, doom, sludge, and stoner.

[in-penumbra]

Nosferatu: Phantom der Nacht (1979)

[rwpohl]

faustine et le bel été, nina companeez 1972

*

slacker, richard linklater 1991

[kraminos]

1- Klaus Kinski & Werner Herzog (Cobra Verde 1987)

2- Werner Herzog, Claudia Cardinale & Klaus Kinski (Fitzcarraldo 1982)

[tomtom0160]

[pascalkirchmair]

"Klaus Kinski", black and coloured inks on cardboard, 29,7 x 42 cm

クラウス・キンスキー  

[samprestonbigbadabruce]

Thoughts on first viewing of ‘Paris, Texas’

Previous to this, I’d only seen one film from Wim Wenders, which was a 2014 film called The Salt of the Earth, which followed photographer Sebastiao Salgado. I know this because I went on Letterboxd to check, but whilst I am sure it’s full of beautiful imagery (I mean, it’s about a photographer who takes photos of landscapes, territories, and plant life), it left little impact on me. A case of “looks pretty, but not much substance”.

When watching films, I am one of those that can appreciate great cinematography, beautiful images, etc, but I have little patience when it comes to style over substance. I need to have something with dimension to make the scene worthwhile. If it’s just a camera watching some water running or a field of grass for three minutes just because, I’m probably not going to enjoy the film. Let me discuss three examples to give you evidence:

I love The Assassination of Jesse James by Andrew Dominik, despite being a slow burner of a movie with lots of scenes dedicated to the surroundings or having a gorgeous image like a silhouette of Jesse James walking in the dark to rob a train. The reason I love it is because the scenes such as Jesse’s silhouette helps build up the legend and mythical nature of the outlaw, making him a deity, before the gradual deterioration of that legend in the eyes of Robert Ford.

One of my favourite scenes of all time is ‘The Lighting of the Beacons’ in The Return of the King. I remember the first time I saw it in cinema, I was holding my breath as the camera covers these fields, these mountain tops, etc, he gorgeous scenery of New Zealand on display. However, these shots matter because it also follows the lightning of beacons between Gondor and Rohan, Pippin having lighted the first beacon to call for aid and we follow this journey to Rohan, seeing the answering of the call. It’s a moment that has the context of Gandalf trusting Pippin, who rises to the occasion, and the question of whether Rohan will come to Gondor’s aid after King Theoden earlier hinted they wouldn’t. That doesn’t even consider the wondrous music from Howard Shore, a God among composers.

And yet, I can’t stand The Tree of Life. I am not a fan of Malick, one because I feel he’s inconsiderate of the actors he brings in, using them for multiple scenes then cutting them without communicating to them, leading to the moment where Adrien Brody went to the premiere of The Thin Red Line having been made out he was the leading role, only to be cut down to 90 seconds. But more than that, I find The Tree of Life more concerned with looking pretty than focusing on a fascinating story of Sean Penn as an adult struggling with the tempestuous relationship he had with his father Brad Pitt. You have these scenes focusing on Penn, Pitt and Chastain that should be emotionally hard hitting, with Pitt especially impressive, but Malick is too busy following a blade of grass. It says something when the most beautiful scene, the creation of the universe and life on our planet, could be cut out completely and you wouldn’t miss it. Malick is too busy chronically masturbating the visual screen and hoping you’ll ask him what it means. It means a waste of my fucking time.

So after all that, imagine my surprise when I thought this film was great. Harry Dean Stanton has always been an underappreciated actor to some degrees, as he could be guaranteed to add a bit of class to a movie. If I remember correctly, Roger Ebert used to say that no movie that features Stanton can be truly bad (which means Ebert would be a fan of The Avengers, you heard it here first). And yet, this is one of the few films that has Stanton as the main actor.

In fact, Stanton also has the similarly talented Dean Stockwell in support. The first half of the film has Stanton almost completely mute, more akin to a mystery box with Stockwell the protagonist, before transitioning to Stanton as the lead in the second half when he begins to look for Jane, and it’s wonderful to see both actors entrusted to carry their half of the movie.

The inclusion of Wenders’ photography and cinematography is actually vital in this movie as it helps sell the feeling of seclusion in the desert, giving Stanton’s Travis an otherworldly mystery to his character.

Hunter Carson is only 8-9 years old during this movie, and he could have been an uncomfortable albatross as the main focus for the characters. Instead, Carson as Hunter is excellent, a realistic depiction of a confused 8 year old whose gradual change of body language towards Travis is subtle but impactful. He is probably the silent MVP of the movie.

The third act where Stanton as Travis and Nastassja Kinski as Jane is engrossing. It’s mostly a monologue where Travis opens up and admits his mistakes to an unaware Jane, but the decision to have the two separated by both glass and sight is inspired. It evokes the chasm between the two due to their previous actions, but also allows both to bare themselves in ways they otherwise may not. Stanton can see Kinski but not touch her, and yet turns away from her due to his shame, whereas Kinski cannot see but can hear Stanton and stares at her own reflection throughout. I find this decision fascinating, as Stanton staring away also enforces his decision that he must leave her behind, while Kinski staring at herself allows her to face her history and previous actions.

The reveal that Travis was once so jealous and nearly cruel is a shocking reveal but is wonderfully reminiscent of the underlying possible depths to the world the characters inhabit. The desert was beautiful, but a terrifying location that swallowed Travis for four years. The marriage between Stockwell and his wife as parents for Hunter is heartwarming but built upon a self-deluding lie as Hunter is not really their child. And the supposed gentle nature of Travis and flaky abandonment by Jane is actually a damaged relationship that required Jane to escape Travis and leave Hunter with her brother-in-law instead.

This is almost perfectly embodied in the title itself, as you hear the word Paris and instantly think of France, when Stanton is actually focused on Paris in Texas, where he was supposedly conceived. It takes the obvious and unpacks it to reveal a more humane, personal aspect.

I forgot to mention that the soundtrack was amazing.

Overall, this movie has been stuck in my mind ever since I watched it, specifically that end scene, and that’s what Paris, Texas does, it burrows within without letting go. I didn’t expect to love it as much as I did, but that third act is probably worth a star or two singlehandedly. The first 90 minutes can sometimes feel a little bit slow or even drag slightly, but that ending makes the journey worthwhile, bit like every road trip itself.

[radiophd]

kinski -- passwords & alcohol

[bellamer]

Kinski my beloved. I just remembered he existed and got all warm inside. Just… Kinski 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰