Watched "Wayward Cloud" (or, much more charmingly, "A Cloud at the Edge of the Sky") by Tsai Ming-Liang and his beng-muse Li Kashing. It opened with a wide-angle of an empty subterrannean passage echoing with footsteps, and closed with the female protagonist caught in a cathartic fellatio, her pretty snub nose buried in Li's pubic verdure. In between we are treated to mock-awkward musical interludes: a sequinned Li in lizard guise crawling about a water tank, a girly paean to erotic submission, a comic drag sequence involving watermelon-patterned umbrellas, a muffin-top diva hip-jerking her way through a flame-poufing room infested with a multi-limbed male-beast, and Li as a giant plastic penis assaulted in a public lavatory by a conical-breasted clog-dancing bevy of taiwan lians. Rich-throated songs from a gilded era elevated the sequences from directorial hubris to a certain kind of jolly kitsch. And the many mechanical, buttock-slapping-against-thigh sex scenes worked to enhance the erotic frisson of the eventual act, when Li pursued sweat-soaked intercourse with an unconscious actress, while his besotted beau watched in thrall, vicariously working her way to an orgasm till Li sprang to seed his benificence in her mouth, and such was the strange lingum-logic of this movie as a new song begun.
Two days ago went for ice-cream with the CG and SJ, the elective girl from Shropshire doing her thing in Dundee.
I've been eating so much it's shameful, really :).
America's Next Top Model is utterly addictive. They are so desperate, and so thin. Tyra Banks and her crew of men are such b*tches. And Janice's skin looks, erm, smooth. |