A Little Belgian...

I’ve been getting more and more into Tintin recently…I read all of the books when I was younger and they were in my cousin’s closet…I later stole all of them…and was ordered to bring them back sometime later…rather embarrassing! Anyway…you have to love the comic-strip…it’s so big and far-ranging and convoluted and far-fetched but it hooks you, I don’t know how but it does. It’s funny…because it’s not funny (like Asterix…which was hilarious when I first read it…and is now slightly less funny in a different more adult context) yet Captain Haddock is hilarious…and Thomson and Thompson just annoy me, as does Calculus…silly old man that he is. And it is unbelievable…Tintin has so many bloody narrow escapes and somehow has he-man strength and can use his head to beat down any opponent. And that Captain Haddock…he gets consistently spat on by llamas in one adventure so at the very end…he spits on one! Now that’s writing!

I’ve started purchasing them again for no other reason than to have them all (OCD, I’m sure) so today I bought Cigars of the Pharaoh and The Crab with the Golden Claws. I’m a little too excited at this purchase…so that’s scary in itself.

I think I might buy the DVD of The Adventures of Tintin – the Canadian cartoon series that translated most of the stories into film format that I watched growing up...

I am a loser, aren’t I?

But at the same time…I also bought my brother a DVD of Duck Tales…so I can least spread the loserdom a bit…but just a bit.

Who's the loser now!? Ha!

It's still me, isn't it?

Damn.

Journey's End...the Journey

So rehearsals have been going pretty steadily since this production of R.C Sherriff's Journey's End began in early March. So steadily in fact that I only just realised that the show opens in a month's time! Anzac Day...April 25. Good God.

Not that I'm too nervous or worried at this point. This show is an 'ensemble' show in the strongest sense of the word...it's finely balanced and there's not one typical 'star' performance in the cast...not that there's no one that good...far from it...it's that there isn't one role that stands out above the others. That's a testament to the play and also to the performers involved. There's such a diverse range of character and of talent that I'm really looking forward to performing this play in a month's time. Learning the lines is a different thing. This is the first time for me where there's been only a month and half or so of rehearsals before a show opens. True, in the past I've done musicals which need more time to get choreography down and music learnt, but a play with this much dialogue...talk, talk, talk...and since I've got a very line-heavy role...there's a bit of challenge that's been put down. As of this week it's books down for rehearsals. 3 Acts. 6 Scenes. And I'm in every single bloody one of them and always with something to say.

The play is set during the First World War and takes place entirely in the officers' dugout. Hilarity ensues. Not really.

It has been an interesting rehearsal period so far. Driving down/across/out to Mordialloc or more specifically Parkdale three nights a week (including Friday night) has been a slight challenge, only because there's no freeway or expressway for me to put my foot down. It's a long drive in that nothing interesting really takes place on the drive, it's really just a straight line for 30-40 minutes. But a good time to go over lines if ever there was one!

Plus working with about 9 actors, all male of varying ages and types has been fun. Getting to know them gradually, and trusting them more and more on stage has been great...especially as there is some emotion on stage (considering the time period in which the play is set)...that sounds a bit art wanky...but it's fun to finally put the books down and bounce lines of each other and see what develops and comes of it...once the stress of having books down wears off.

So tonight is scheduled as: Act 1 (Books Down)...this isn't too big an Act for me, which is good, and I've got the lines down (or so I think!) so it should be interesting to see how tonight turns out!

The Ghost Who Walks...my ass.

Watching random bits of TV on the weekend...it's the first time K and I could actually watch Channels 7, 9 and 10 in months...we apparently didn't miss much. Flicking over from channel to channel I caught the movie version of The Phantom, the adventure comic strip created by Lee Falk, starring Billy Zane, Kristy Swanson, Catherine Zeta-Jones and that guy who was with Samantha for a period of time in Sex and the City in an Indiana Jones hat. What a piece of crap that was. My God. I watched various parts of it and then kept flicking back to Easter Parade with Fred Astaire and Judy Garland, which turned out to be miles ahead of the interesting accident that was The Phantom.

Sure, it's a daunting task taking a beloved comic strip that was close to 50-60 years old at the time the movie was made...but to come up with such a stinker. It came off as so tongue in cheek, I just didn't get it. Why do the movie from this angle? Why make the character played by Treat Williams so hammy...the action and fighting so fake...it just seemed so bland and drab. Now I admit that I am a fan of The Phantom, and considered the idea of transforming the 2D into a reality an impossible task (consider that when The Phantom is Kit, you still never really see his eyes) and making the Ghost Who Walks suddenly a flesh and blood creature who you knew was flesh and blood kind of takes the thrill away from it all...The Phantom has survived generations on legend, the Tom-Toms, and just pure brilliance...I just couldn't see how they could make a character that is so unattainable attainable. And clearly they didn't. Not that I didn't like Billy Zane, with a better director and script he would in essence be a very good Phantom...but in these surroundings, I just felt awkward and sorry for the whole venture.

Now The Shadow...that's a different thing entirely. I love that film. Not love as in worship. But love as in it's a great piece of fun, that has the right mix of what I think The Phantom was going for. True The Shadow died at the Box Office but it had Alec Baldwin as a perfect Lamont Cranston and John Lone formerly of The Last Emperor and M. Butterfly doing his version of villany. Watching it, you find yourself enjoying it, perhaps against your own better judgement, but it succeeds at what it's trying to accomplish. It's evocative, cheesy, slightly campy, self-referential...and The Shadow has the similar theme of The Phantom that would make it unfilmable...the Shadow has the ability to cloud men's minds and to know what evil lurks in the hearts of men...it's that unattainable thing again, it's something that can't really be captured on film...yet The Shadow does a good job at it...or maybe I'm just pissed that I saw Billy Zane's eyes all the time...I expected these pupil-less white eyes behind the black mask and under the shadow of Kit's fedora...but to no avail.

All this talk makes me wish they had made that film version of Mandrake the Magician that was purportedly to star Kevin Kline, I think that would have trumped these two merely on the star power of the lead. Ah well. We'll have to make do with Jonathon Rhys Meyers who I don't like based purely on his performance in Match Point...slimy worm that he is. Plus, he's no Kevin Kline.

The Ghost Who Walks Can Never Die; Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow Knows! and a Man in a Top Hat who wears a Cape...a Cape I tell you...chilling.

The Pictures

Hot, hot, hot.

What in the world is going on? I am cooking. Anyway...in an attempt to beat the heat K and I went to the Astor last night to see a double feature. A double feature? you say. Yes...they still exist...and the cheapskate within me cannot resist the bargain of paying something like $13 for two films in a nice old cinema.

Now the double feature is a tricky venture...one may be great but one may suck, one may be boring but the other fantasmagorical...etc, etc. We'd been to one of these before...the first feature was the beautiful Irish musical film called Once that everyone loves, including me...and the second feature...yep, you guessed it, Mel Gibson's bloody epic Apocalypto!! What were they thinking!? Well...shut your mouth! It was a perfect combination! It brought together a film we really wanted to see and one that we would never even think of viewing...and WHAM! It was really great. They balanced themselves out so that a perfect night could be had. Sure the latter was violent but it was also exhilarating and breathtaking and intense, and the former was light, bittersweet and just beautiful to watch.

Now I'm aware that was probably a rarity...the right moviegoer and the right time and at the right place...if it was a week later I might have hated the whole experience but it worked a treat...so it was with mixed emotions that I went to this double feature last night...the movies on offer: Cloverfield followed by Stardust.

Now we had no desire to see Cloverfield when it first came out or even now come to think of it, but K had wanted to see Stardust since it first hit the cinemas sometime last year but didn't get the chance to, so that was what we were really there to see.

Well, Cloverfield had us at different opinions. K thought it sucked and I thought it sucked less. I appreciated it for what it was...a different approach to a pretty specific genre of cinema...but we both had similar gripes...particularly the dialogue. Hokey pokey to say the least. It's fine if you're going to make a monster/disaster movie in the traditional vein...you can have dialogue like 'They're gone, they're all gone' and it doesn't seem so...crap, but in Cloverfield where they're going for some form of cinema verite...people don't talk like that in real life...or have 'actorly' inflections when they say the crap dialogue...so it just sounds awful.

There were fans in the audience...well one in particular who had seen Cloverfield 25 times...she was a priceless addition to our movie going experience and actually made the first film worthwhile...but the time the credits rolled on she was bouncing away to the 5 minutes of musical scoring, and conducting the whole thing pretty much at the end...priceless.

Also the monster was scary enough...but I've seen scarier movie monsters before:

You tell me what film she's from...you get a prize.

And on to Stardust - we really enjoyed it. It was fantasy but still quite British in a quirky way and Charlie Cox and Claire Danes were really quite good together...with some good chemistry...plus the fey Robert De Niro, Spike from Press Gang, Ricky Gervais, that guy from The Fast Show, and Peter O'Toole and Ian McKellan fighting it out for impressive British vocals, it made for a nice end to the evening.

But Claire Danes doesn't look right with light hair and light eyebrows...just didn't click for some reason. And doesn't Ricky Gervais have some fangs on him? They look quite sharp and pointy.

Arrivals

There's been a bit happening over the last week...none of it important really...except one big mammoth event...the birth of another Antonas!

You'd think the universe would have had enough of the little buggers but sure enough...out pops another one. Now I'm pleased and proud as punch...especially because the Antonas gene produces some damn cute and photogenic kids...and it makes me an Uncle for the...6th time now! Not bad for a strapping young 25 year old...Jesus...I am getting old, worst part is, soon I won't be able to say I'm 25...it'll be 26. My youth is slipping by ever so slowly but also so damn quickly...it doesn't seem like it but it was 8 or so years ago that I finished high school. Such promise...wasted? Who knows! But the one thing a new nephew does...remind you of how old you really are...and appreciate a new life with all the promise and possibility it holds.

...

That doesn't even sound like me!

But it's true.

Welcome Bruno and Yassou, Yassou!

Not sure if that's right in the circumstances but the only other thing I can say in Greek is Happy Easter...and that's not for another month!

Hanging with Mr Cooper

I am a genius. Clearly. As if any more proof were necessary, yesterday I pulled a gem of geniosity out of my bulbous head that saved the day!

Picture this...

K had bought a dress from a designer clothes store in Melbourne for the wedding last night in Adelaide that looked beautiful on her...really beautiful. She brings it home and thinks nothing of it. Then before she leaves for Adelaide she tries it on to see what kind of shoes to wear/buy for it. She finds that it's a bit bigger than she remembers. I look at it and still think it looks beautiful but K isn't so sure. Anyway, she goes to Adelaide on Thursday night and tries it on for her sister, R. R also thinks it's too big. Posh, I say...it looks great on her...what is wrong with you people!? So on Friday she goes to a major department store and tries on the same style dress from the designer but a size smaller and...WHAM! It's the right size...exactly what she tried on in Melbourne!! The assistants in the Melbourne designer store had given her the wrong size! So...what to do? K rings the store in Melbourne but they will only be able to give store credit if the dress is returned unworn on Tuesday when we got back to Melbourne...that was no good. We couldn't return it to the major department store because they aren't the designer store...crap. So...thinking caps on...bearing in mind this was happening on Saturday at around midday and the wedding was at 4pm! So I come up with a corker of an idea...why not buy the right size dress from the major department store today and return the wrong size dress the next day to the major department store as if that was the one you bought! Genius! So that's what I did...I bought it and said it was for a my girlfriend's anniversary...and the next day I came back and said she really disliked it, and they asked 'Why? I think it's beautiful.' And I said, 'Yeah, she must have lousy taste. She said it looked like something from Silence of the Lambs.' (A little extra colour always helps a story like this) and they refunded me the money...and that's what happened...and it went off without a hitch...perfect. I was as pleased as non-alcoholic punch.

P.S. The dress looked fantastic on K!

P.P.S I didn't look so bad either!

P.P.P.S Who am I kidding...I looked great!

James Antonas is currently in talks to transfer this story to the big screen a la other screen hustlers such as The Sting, The Colour of Money and Schindler's List.

Tiger...Would.

I woke up at 4:15 Saturday morning for my flight with destiny with the taste of dread in my mouth, but luckily after brushing my teeth and a quick gargle that taste was replaced by one of minty burning.

And to be perfectly honest...I had a perfectly adequate flight. Despite the early morning flight, there was virtually no difference between the Tiger Airways flight and any other Virgin flight I've ever had! The only differences I could notice were that you had to walk to the terminal at Melbourne Airport (a mere 200 metres) and then walk to the plan (probably another 200 metres) and that there was no in-flight 'entertainment'...no Radio Q or Virgin TV...and no great loss either! They still try to sell you food and refreshments and little tiger mascots...but who cares...I would definitely fly with them again...especially at that price...and, as a feisty woman noted this weekend, if you die, you're not going to know about it! Wise words indeed.

Cut the formalities

Why oh why are there people out there who still insist on making their wedding a formal or black-tie affair? I don't understand it.

It is a given that it is the 'bride's day' and all that...but no matter what the guests are wearing the bride is still going to look the same and wear the same gown...so why make everyone else suffer in monkey suits?

It is a known fact that close to every man looks terrible in a tuxedo. You get dressed up in your formal threads...you are guaranteed to look average or below average...unless you're George Clooney...then you can wear whatever you damn well please and you will always look classy.
And it's no picnic for the women let me tell you...frumpy garbage bag dresses...or plunging neck and back lines that are most suited to the escorts partners of footballers at the Brownlows. You're either Bjork or a whore. Tough choice.

Let's not forget the money involved in such a thing...sure it's easy for man to own a tux and use it whenever a formal occasion arises...but these suits will age and begin to look cheesy and ripe for op-shop fodder...and the ladies aren't even afforded this luxury...sure they too can buy a dress for a formal occasion...but they can never wear that dress again if people who are going to a subsequent formal occasion were present at the first formal occasion...so...another dress, another Estonian Community Centre.

So here's the rule...unless you are a celebrity good looking celebrity with friends who are celebrities good looking celebrities...don't make your wedding black-tie. Simple as that.

George Clooney - classy like herpes.

Tiger, Tiger, burning bright

So K and I are going to my cousin's wedding in Adelaide this weekend. The wedding is on Saturday afternoon-evening. Now usually we would have left on Friday night, but I've got a rehearsal that night so K left on Thursday afternoon and I'm going Saturday morning.

On Tiger Airways.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for budget travel...particularly the price...but in terms of aviation...you kind of want the best you can get. But monetary limitations forced me into making this choice. I could have flown Qantas or Virgin but they were too pricey for that time and day...a good $100 more than the Tiger Airways ticket, which was in the ballpark of a bus ticket to Adelaide.

But I haven't heard any stories about Tiger Airways since it's inception...so I'm a little nervous...hence the title of the this post. What am I in for?? I'm expecting a rattling aircraft with no seat belts or leg room where you have to brace yourself when the 'plane' comes into land...of course I'm exaggerating...but seriously, how can an airline afford to be that cheap? From what I remember of the initial information about the company was that they cut back on luxuries and made it the bear necessities. But when I've flown Virgin, so far the least luxurious air travel I've experienced, the only luxuries I could determine were a TV/radio and them offering snacks for an inflated price. So...when I wake up at 4:30am tomorrow and get on my 6:30am plane ride...what is going to be missing? Surely, eliminating TV/radio and beer nuts does not shave off $100 off their costs...does it!?

Plus you're only allowed 15kg of luggage before they charge you exorbitant amounts for 5kg more...maybe that's where they get you...you don't realise how much your luggage actually weighs until you check in and WHAM!! A $60 fee for packing an extra pair of condo...um...socks.

Anyway...we shall see. And I'll let you know how it went...if I'm still alive. :(

Tiger Airways Flight TT 7302: Melbourne to Adelaide

Censorship!

I have been censored! Censored! Me!? I don't understand it at all.

I had offered to write a little something for a work newsletter last month, so after 30 minutes with my brain to the grindstone I came up with this hilarious piece of self-worship: http://jamesantonas.vox.com/library/post/james-antonas-is.html

I thought it might be a bit risky, a bit risque, a bit rhiskey...and sure enough I was shot down. Okay, they had warned me previously that any piece I submittd couldn't contain any references to religion or politics or constitute an attack on anyone...and apparently my piece seemed to have those three things in spades.

...

Fine, I said. Well, it was a little more vulgarly colourful than that, but in essence...fine, I'll try again.

I decided to take a shot a doing an advice column style piece as inoffensive as possible and as 'advice column-y' as possible, here was the result: http://jamesantonas.vox.com/library/post/james-antonas-column-of-love.html

Harmless, no? And this was accepted. Great, they said. And the quote about mistakes being the younger sexier cousin of regret went down a treat around the office water cooler. So that was that I thought, in a week or two it would be published, I would be lauded and praised as the saviour of newsletter musings and would be roundly celebrated.

Think again.

Today I was informed that I had been 'edited' (she actually did the air quotation marks)...and I went 'Yeah, that's cool...it was a bit long! Ha ha ha!' (I laugh like that in awkward situations) And then she said, 'No, you've been edited out completely!' and then she made a 'No Deal' sign with her arms.

Ha ha ha.

And then she had to gall to say that if I wanted to write something again for next month that was shorter and more appropriate that would be okay!

Fignuts! Spit in my face...Tear out my heart...um...Raid my pantry and take those Ferrero Rochers I hid behind the Country Cheese crackers for a rainy day when I would just need some chocolate comfort...etc, etc.

I feel like Salmon Rushdie or someone young people have actually heard of...Woody Harrelson...yeah, I feel like Woody Harrelson when he was continually prosecuted by religious types for running a magazine that catered to the male demographic and then he got Edward Norton to represent him because Eddie knew the legal system after Richard Gere got him off for murdering a priest by pretending he had a split personality. Those guys know their stuff.

Anyway...censorship sucks. Pure and simple.

Two James Antonas’ sites are better than one...

As if one self-indulgent site wasn’t enough…Mr Arrogance had to go and create another one. Well excuse me for having interesting and witty things to say…well…things to say…and anyway…you don’t have to read this, no one’s forcing you.

…

Actually, please keep reading. I’m forcing you. Please.

…

Phew.

There is method to my madness. You might not think so, but there is. For those observant few, you will notice that my other site jamesantonas.vox.com is labelled The James Antonas Site, whereas this one is labelled The James Antonas Blog. Biiiig difference.

But the real reason is this…desperation. Sweaty, awkward desperation. I need to know you are out there, that you are reading, thinking, caring, loving me…who couldn’t!? And this blog allows feedback from anyone and everyone. Just post a comment after a post and I’ll know that someone other than myself and the guys in the IT department downstairs who screen and filter my internet history are reading this drivel. Just make a comment and click Name/URL and just leave your name or click Anonymous...whatever you want!

Go on…go for it…post a comment…you know you want to!

Oh Mein Papa

It's a rare day today, a rare day. Not only do you lucky buggers get two posts but it is also the day we celebrate the birthday of Papa Antonas.

That's right, it's been a whole year already...and here we are to wish my father a very Happy Birthday! And it isn't just a regular run of the mill birthday folks, no siree. My pa has now reached the historic age of 64!

64!

Amazing! What a feat of nature! What a medical marvel!

Not only am I surprised but I am deeply moved as the man has worked non-stop for the last 56 years...according to his recollections he spent his childhood working the counters of his Uncle Andy's neighbourhood snack bar where he would water down the frozen butter or half fill the drinks but charge a customer the full price...happy times indeed. But he is still ticking! Not only ticking but going strong!

Here's the most recent photo of Dad taken at Christmas in mid-chuckle as he noticed a rather inappropriately placed bon-bon...

Happy Birthday Dad!
Love your Son

please send money

Kirilie Blythman

I am in love.

...

Yes I'm sure you care, but I don't care.

...

I do so have a heart...and a brain and the nerve.

...

Her name is Kirilie Blythman. Kirilie Blythman. Doesn't it just trip off the tongue? And so exotic sounding...Kirilie Blythman...well the last name not so much...but don't you worry about that...in due time, with a little coercing, a bit of coaxing, some emotional bribery and an engagement ring...that name will be...Kirilie Blythman. Yep, she's not one for changing her name. But I don't care. Who can blame her...Antonas doesn't exactly gel with most people especially the derivations...Anton's ass, A tonne of ass, Atomic ass, Untoned ass...etc, etc.

Anyway, she's a beauty and I love her. And apparently, after five years...she loves me too. So that's a plus.

Stunning, eh?