The Czech Rod Serling

hotelozoneThe American Cinenatheque is currently running their annual fantasy and science fiction festival right now, but I hadn’t really bothered to pay attention to it because the lead highlights were a run of Caroline Munro movies, a dubious new Tobe Hooper movie, and some current stuff that didn’t really stand out.

Buried in the schedule’s fine print though was this:

End Of August At The Hotel Ozone (Konec srpna v Hotelu Ozon) 1966, 80 min. Dir. Jan Schmidt. Scr. By Pavel Jurácek. Decades after a nuclear holocaust and the world is devoid of men, leaving only an isolated band of feral young women on horseback roaming the forests of Europe – until they reach the last vestige of civilization, the Hotel Ozone. Superb, thought-provoking sci-fi, something like Andrei Tarkovsky directing Mad Max with an all-female cast, with memorable b&w cinematography by Jiri Macak.

Voyage To The End Of The Universe (Ikarie XB-1) 1963, 84 min. Dir. Jindrich Polak. Scr. By Pavel Jurácek and Jindrich Polak. Another Czech sci-fi rarity, this was briefly released in the U.S. in the early ‘60s by AIP and then promptly disappeared – until now. A crew of astronauts encounter a deadly plague during a cross-galaxy voyage, in this excellent precursor to both Star Trek and 2001: A Space Odyssey. Another beautiful b&w film, with eye-popping ‘60s Euro pop-art design. Prints courtesy the Narodni Film Archive in Prague. [Both films in Czech with English subtitles.]

Pop-art Eastern European apocalypse movies are like my narrowcast target demographic so I have no idea how I’ve missed both of these until now, but both are must-sees when they hit your local film geek pusher. End Of August… plays out almost like a documentary – not much dialog and what there is of the plot is the typical struggle of civilization versus barbarism versus the disconnect people have because of that. Tarkovsky’s The Sacrifice is a later reference point. Perhaps even a gender-reversed Le Dernier Combat. Even more remarkable than the cast of unknowns is the dead village use to film in. It’s not a set, it’s an actual abandoned town that just barely held together by the overgrowth of vines holding the buildings up.

Voyage To The End Of The Universe is the absurdist 2001. A future communist utopia sends it’s first interstellar spacecraft (the Ikaria) to Alpha Centauri and along the way encounters a derelict spaceship of decadent capitalists (hilariously shown as an outer space gambling casino with roulette wheels and card tables and a swankily dressed crew), deals with crew ennui (apparently by elaborate dance routines), and pesky space radiation which may or may not be beneficial. Faster than you can say “1845 Franklin Expedition“, members of the crew pass out and/or go insane and the fun begins. So the script is kinda dippy, but the Panton-esque sets and the mostly electronic (slack-key guitar grafted onto the Forbidden Planet bleeps and bloops) soundtrack is just flat out amazing.

So who’s this guy Pavel Jurácek? Based on the two movies I’ve seen so far, he’s the Czech Rod Serling. Their favorite themes are similar – societal tedium and the breakdown of systems and people. Idealization of a home that’s unreachable (or may not even exist). Not much more about him on the web except that he unsurprising fled Czechoslovakia in 1967 when the Soviet Union invaded and only managed to make one more movie in 1970.

There’s another night of his movies at the Cinematheque, and I’m not missing it for anything. From the description of one:

Joseph Kilian (Postava K Podpirani), 1963, 38 min. Dirs. Jan Schmidt and Jurácek. This stunning, Kafka-esque short follows a man who sees a shop marked “Cat Rentals,” and rents a kitty for the day. But when he tries to return the animal, the shop has vanished. Terrified by the late fees he’ll incur, he searches desperately for the one official who can help him: Joseph Killian.

voyage_universe

JFK’s Terminal 5 to reopen

jfk_twaterminalVictory for everyone! JetBlue and the NY Port Authority have agreed to reopen the TWA terminal at JFK airport (one of my fave NYC buildings if not one of my faves period) while building a new terminal directly behind it. Hilariously, the NYT story asks: “but exactly how Terminal 5 will be used, besides as a small diversion for JetBlue passengers walking to and from their new terminal, has not been determined.”

Ummm, that’s enough diversion for me. Construction begins in 2005, but you can check out the building at the Terminal Five art event which conveniently opens just before I arrive in NYC for good.

[via Gothamist]

Where magneto-reluctance and capacitive directance modialy interact

rockwell-retroencabulatorI have no idea what it does, but I’m deathly afraid that my inverse reactive current supply cannot automatically synchronize cardinal grammeters. “It” in this case is Rockwell’s retro-encabulator which replaces old pre-fabulated amulite base-plate machines that had a malleable logarithmic casing. It’s also completely hyperbullshitic – the optimized version of the “all sizzle no steak” cliche.

iPod random play brilliance – Part I

Been listening to random play iPod in the car lately and on today’s trip out to the storage unit I got the following genius sequence:

Shocking Blue – “Pickin’ Tomatoes”
Fleetwood Mac – “I Know I’m Not Wrong”
Young Marble Giants – “Include Me Out”
Jerry Goldsmith – “You’re A Foolish Man Mr. Flint” (from the In Like Flint soundtrack)
Deep Purple – “Speed King”

Roy’s Cafe and Amboy

amboy-busterTonight’s episode of Huell Howser’s California’s Gold television show was a rerun of his visit to windblown Mojave Desert town Amboy. Amboy has always just been barely hanging in there ever since I-40 bypassed that stretch of US-66, but Route 66 tourism and the occasional movie appearance guaranteed at least a little business over the years.

I first learned of Amboy in early 1984 after a couple of us drove all night around the southern Mojave and wandered into Roy’s Cafe around 6 in the morning and had breakfast served to us by a old gent who seemed to be as old as the desert itself. The food was, well, adequate, and the guy liked to spray Raid everywhere, but for the middle of absolute nowhere it was hella good and Roy’s decor hadn’t changed much (if at all) in fifty years. Buster Burris was the gentleman in question and had lived in Amboy since moving there in the 1930s. The Howser show interviewed Buster, and I got to wondering if he was still alive and what Amboy’s status is.

Buster finally sold the town in 1995 and moved to Twentynine Palms where he eventually passed away in 2001. The new Amboy owners put the town up for sale in February of this year (asking price $1.8 million), but no news on a buyer yet.

A little something I snagged from that first 1984 visit:
amboy-roycard