A Takeoff For Preston Sturges’ Unfaithfully Yours

If a symphony can’t fit in your overhead, ram it, until de gambas crack, and all who are batons are renamed goner. An animal mandible ain’t even percussive packed in business travelers’ rolly carts. Hear how underpants muffle; how houndstooth three-button golf shirts mute? Do bald ballerinas wear tutoupÈes? I’m a brick of frozen music, a uvula in a vacuum, a kernel of truth in the patented collapsible cornhole known as “illusory prizemoney” –no, formerly illusory prizemoney. They’ve restructured in Chapter 11: in which all the world’s bones reform into one big bone and laminate a mountain in shareholders’ honor. This Chili’s has an opal wall? Lynch me a suspicion! The struggle of crass against crass is a deep-fried public school the clean-up crew can’t get unbreaded. Mothers Against Ratiocination with ANTLERS OUT TO HERE toss applesauce Molotovs and pray for Tarte Tartin. They cry real Chapter 11 tears. Real water-damaged board-game-closet tears. Real articles may have shifted tears.

An Accounting for City of God

La Terra Trema. Sanford & Son. Mamma Roma. Miracle in Milan. Metropolis. Sunrise. Modern Times. Days of Heaven. Children of Heaven. Mean Streets. L’Atalante. Land Without Bread. Man of Aran. Accattone. Toni. Central Station. The Gleaners and I. Vagabond. Manufacturing Consent. Hoop Dreams. El Norte. Grapes of Wrath. La Strada. Go West. Stroszek. Keep Busy. Killer of Sheep. Au Hasard Balthazar. Los Olvidados. My Own Private Idaho. The Grin without a Cat. Kes. A Raisin in the Sun. Greed. Black Legion. The Citadel. Bitter Rice. Sugar Cane Alley. Streetwise. Days of Heaven. The Outsiders. Amarilly of Clothesline Alley. Riffraff. Riff Raff. Ladybird, Ladybird. Raining Stones. The Firm. Made in Britain. Welfare. Zemlya. Scarecrow. The Farmer’s Wife. Pather Panchali. Boyz in the Hood. What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? Memories of Underdevelopment. Man of Iron. Man of Marble. Chico and the Man. The Silence. The Cow. Coal Miner’s Daughter. Matewan. Roger and Me. Gummo. Harlan County, Kentucky. Rocco and his Brothers. Saturday Night Sunday Morning. Regeneration. Fat Albert. A Corner in Wheat. Man’s castle. A Brief Vacation. Nights of Cabiria. Our Daily Bread. Cry the Beloved Country. Roots. My Left Foot. The Man without a Past. Rabbit Proof Fence. The Color Purple. West Side Story. The Apple. On the Corner. Oz. Dodes Ka-Den. City Lights. Aparajito. Freaks. Broken Blossoms. Bread and Roses. Lilya 4-Ever

A Cut and Run for Bergman’s Cries and Whispers

It is early Monday morning and I am in pain. It is late Monday night and 10:49 looks planetoid. 10:50 looks like safety. 10:51 and this is living. For someone so solar-systemically flawed the hemisphere of morals is easy to sleep off. Indifference causes wrinkles. Charles Dickens kills. I have suffered greatly for cause and effect, watching fear of boredom drip its giblets into countless shallow catch pans. This essay. I know how long it is, I’m trying to see how deep.

An Immediate Reprisal for Kiarostami’s Ten

Now is a serviceable religion. Now is a preserved Pleistocene mud puppy. Now is roundedness amid crystalline chits. Is there a worse word than interview for what an interview is?
I prefer opera. And the lunar, lenticular, reniform, arcuate mouths of the frog- and bog-men you talk about the supermarket with, prefer parachute. There is no way to escape saying. Now is a tracing paper parachute. Now is an accurate description of the tact of a thermometer. Now is how the lost glovers of Gloversville feel about gloves. Enough now.