So I spent a good portion of this week feeling pretty ill. That’s ill in a lying in bed moaning all day way rather than a nineties fresh beats rap way. I don’t know that my condition compromised my writing at all this week, but let’s just say it’s a little more difficult to write a review of a deliberately languid, existentially fraught Russian mood piece under those circumstances.
My other piece of film writing was for the latest entry in our Oeuvre series on Samuel Fuller. After writing on one of his touchstone war pictures, I got a chance to review a crime thriller virtually shimmering with classic film noir style. It always takes a little extra restraint on my part to not simply spend my allotment of words repeatedly quoting tart, sharp lines of dialogue. I did manage to slip one characteristic exchange in there.
Finally, I tiptoed into a new area, writing a concert review for the first time. And I don’t just mean for the first time on Spectrum. I believe this is first time I’ve ever tried to encapsulate a concert-going experience into words more elaborate than, “Yeah, it was awesome.” (I’m usually a little more articulate than that, but the general point remains valid.) It was very odd to be sitting there in the venue scribbling down notes–I was never going to remember the details of the set list without it–and there are plenty of instances when the value of the free tickets isn’t going to outweigh my preference to just lean back and enjoy the show. Still, I surely wouldn’t have see a good Cut Copy show without this avenue. The next pricey ticket I have my eye on is in late November. We’ll see.