Sure, in the end it’s just another commercial. Using this format, however, Stella Artois gives us a glimpse of more than a 30-second spot devoid of any intellectual calories whatsoever.
Have 12 minutes to spare to watch this beautifully shot documentary?
One of the greatest NY films ever made is by far The Pope of Greenwich Village. It’s got everything: ethnicity, loyalty, treachery, passion, triumph, defeat, comedy, the whole enchilada.
Mickey Rourke, Eric Roberts, Daryl Hannah, Geraldine Page, Kenneth McMillan and Burt Young have dynamic chemistry throughout the film’s 121-minute running time. Simply superb acting all around. Amazing the film hasn’t garnered more attention and accolades.
Eric Roberts is Paulie, the guy we’ve all known somewhere who, despite our better judgment, is simply that likable character we keep giving second chances to. He panders to Rourke’s Charlie, the hero who, in spite of knowing he’d be better off alone, can’t ignore his feelings of empathy for his knucklehead cousin. I won’t spoil it by revealing any more details than that, but suffice it to say it’s a story of a struggle that’s as old as the hills though in a very balanced way between the hardcore consequences of life, taking risks and the comedy that comes along with every tragedy, all set to a great soundtrack.
The film is also a very picturesque portrait of a city that I will never miss but am thankful for the memories of. This film, though set in the early-mid 80’s, is representative of those memories in a grimy yet attractive way that only that city can be.
Pollee and I watched the film again last night and have been bantering on with “That twat robbed ya?”, “it’s all in the gene”, “Dressed up like a fa%^ot on Fire Island”, “He’s a real pro” and countless other gems from this, arguably one of the most overlooked films of all time, praised here and in so many other places.
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My new pal, David Cevoli, wrote earlier this week about the influence Neil Young, Joni Mitchell and others of that era have had and continue to have on him. He’s a gifted musician and though I’ve not had a chance to listen to him in person, I’ve listened to the demos he’s posted on ReverbNation and I’m looking forward to his first full-length album – it’s currently in progress.
Meanwhile, I began thinking of the first time I ever heard/saw Neil Young, which happened to be on the same night at the Beacon Theatre in 1990.
Two of my housemates scored some last minute tickets street-side as we were walking past the venue after dinner and next thing I knew I was listening to Victoria Williams getting booed off the stage to chants of “Neil, Neil, Neil”
Something about that weird, negative vibe got to me, BIG TIME. That, plus the seemingly extreme incline of the Beacon’s balcony made me just get up and leave for awhile – I rushed out and ended up somewhere else, halfway up a stairwell, where I found some space and which I realized later led up to some sort of room for media VIPs. I sat on the stairs for a good hour at least, well into Young’s set, trying to calm down enough to return to my seat and the rest of the show.
That’s when Neil started to play “Heart of Gold” and immediately I knew I’d heard this music somewhere before. It instantly calmed and reassured me and I returned to my pals and enjoyed the next 2 hours before we were dumped back out into the breezy summer night with that tune stuck in my head like glue for the next few days.
Thanks for jarring the memory, Cev. Cheers.
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