DAF

Deutsch-Amerikanische Freundschaft

During my High-school years weekends were spent mostly club-hopping in the Hillbrow area.

My buddies and our girls would meet at someone's house at round about 7pm, after which we'd go to a pub or restaurant and chat away till about 10pm or so. Then it's off to Hillbrow where we'd start our evening off by going to the Chelsea hotel to listen to live bands and warm-up for the night ahead.

One club stood out amongst the rest and that was San Lorenzo in Kotze street, Hillbrow. During the period, the music we listened to was combination of Depeche Mode, Human League, Soft cell and so forth. It was not long after a trip of mine to Durban that I returned having heard some awesome music being played in the clubs at the coast. One of the bands that transformed our thinking from disco to 'club music' was to be DAF(Deutsch-Amerikanische Freundschaft). A five-piece band playing Electro punk music which Depeche played in a more subdued form in later years. The music is recognisable by strong metalic-type sounds created with synthesizers. DAF were arguably the grandfathers of techno, and had a huge influence on the music of the later Soft Cell and Pet Shop boys.

So during an off period here at work I did some searching and managed to download some of their music from the 80's. I was immediately transformed back in time, and realised how timeless the music of the era was. DAF could easily re-emerge on the music scene at this time and be equally as popular as they were then.

Listen to 'Der Mussolini' and 'Kebabtraume'. Excellent shit!

Thursday chic flic nite.. no more

Under normal circumstances I'm not one for what I call 'lame movies' or 'chic flics', but occasionally I watch one by accident. I say by accident, because I will never deliberately put myself through two hours of torture, watching something I don't enjoy as a norm.

This has nothing to do with crying in a movie at all. Or your buddies finding out you watch chic flics with your grilfriend, Thursday nights on E. I've cried in many movies, or at the very least had a lump in my throat on more than ten occasions. I simply don't give a shit whether or not my buddies care what I do with my girlfriend on any given day, nevermind a Thursday.

I've been single for almost 4 months now, and with the pointless chic flics a thing of the past, I've made up for the void by getting a dvd or two to watch on Thursday nights.

I wasn't to keen at first, but with a 'whatever' attitude I got hold of Slumdog Millionaire and popped it into the machine last Thursday.

It's a mini epic in the life of a young Indian boy who grows up in the slums of Mumbai and becomes a winner on the "Who wants to be a millionaire" Tv show.

I enjoyed it, and it is actually quite watchable without the need for crying, even during the sadder parts. And of course it helps that the little mud-splattered girl-friend, turns into a really hot number as they all grow up.


Worthwhile watching, with or without the girlfriend.

I also revisited some Coen-brother oldies like Fargo(excellent!) and Big Lobowski?(Hillarious) recently. Tonight it's back to a classic from 1955 - 'Bad Day At Black Rock' starring Lee Marvin, Ernst Borgnine and Spencer Tracy. Should be fun.

Film noir

Film noir (meaning 'black film') is a distinct branch of the crime/gangster sagas from the 1930s. Strictly speaking, film noir is not a genre, but rather the mood, style or tone of various American films that evolved in the 1940s, and lasted in a classic period until about 1960. However, film noir has not been exclusively confined to this era, and has re-occurred in cyclical form in other years in various neo-noirs. Noirs are usually black and white films with primary moods of melancholy, alienation, bleakness, disillusionment, disenchantment, pessimism, ambiguity, moral corruption, evil, guilt and paranoia. And they often feature a cynical, loner hero (anti-hero) and femme fatale, in a seedy big city.

During the evenings of the past two weeks or so, I made myself comfortable in front of the television after supper, and slipped in a dvd or two to watch until the late hours.

My choice of movie was pre-determined, and featured the Film noir classics of the 40's and 50's. I was mostly dissapointed, partly because I viewed the films from a modern perspective, which was the wrong thing to do. I was overly critical, as many of the scenes seemed unrealistic and amateurish in the context of modern film-making.

So I changed my attitude and rather tried to watch the movies for their enjoyment and entertainment value. I was more impressed the second time around. What the critics of the time viewed as dark and risque came to the fore if one understood the moral thinking of the time.


After watching Sunset Boulevard again, I moved on to The Killers, and enjoyed it immensely. Then came Out of the Past, with Robert Mitchum and Jane Greer, with it's twists and turns and my first view of a very young Kirk Douglas(father of Michael Douglas). The plot twisted and turned with every loop of film, and although the ending was a tad predictable, I thoroughly enjoyed it.


Tonight I move to the darker - The Night of the Hunter - , again with Robert Mitchum, but this time as the darker figure of a preacher(self-proclaimed) who searches for the hidden loot of a cell-mate waiting for the gallows.


'Lord, you sure knowed what You was doin' when You put me in this very cell at this very time. A man with $10,000 hid somewhere and a widow in the makin'.

And what would Film noir be without the Hitchcock classics; Vertigo, Psycho and Shadow of a doubt.

Once the classic roots have been planted, I may find myself critical of modern film-making, who knows. I do know I'm itching to start the modern era with a bit of the Coen brothers.

Cheers!

“Yes, this is Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, California. It's about five o'clock in the morning. That's the Homicide Squad - complete with detectives and newspapermen. A murder has been reported from one of those great big houses in the ten thousand block. You'll read about it in the late editions, I'm sure...”

“The poor dope - he always wanted a pool. Well, in the end, he got himself a pool.”

This was the third film I saw from the bygone era of movie-making. The first being ‘The man who knew to much’, and then from a later era, the more enjoyable ‘Paris Texas’.

I’m sorry to say it(Sunset) bored me to near death. Honestly, I held on by the thinnest of threads, hoping a scene would come along and save me from falling asleep in front of the tv.

There were only two memorable scenes, and the cause of me watching the entire thing: The opening scene with the camera panning, from the street name along the asphalt while the opening credits role; and the excellent shot from the bottom of the pool while flashing cameras probe the water past the floating body. I was stumped how they managed such a good shot, and I'm not gonna spoil it. Read up if you want to know how they did it.

And of course the machinegun-fast one liners.

Apart from that, the only other thing I remember was the amazing quality. The black and whites were crisp and clear, as if it was made just yesterday.

Max Burdett: Give me a Jack on the rocks. It doesn't have a fancy name, but if it was good enough for Frank, it's good enough for me.
Luc: Frank? Who's Frank?
Max Burdett: Sinatra.
Luc: Did Frank take an umbrella?
Max Burdett: [laughing] Not even when it was raining.