Monthly Archives: April 2018

Shulman and Bosch

History repeats.

While I have not had TV service for some two decades now, I do subscribe to Amazon Prime and they make available a lot of content, including their ‘made for TV’ series as Amazon moves to become a major movie studio.

One which caught my eye recently is the Harry Bosch series of detective thrillers, set in Los Angeles. The cinematography here appeals immediately, capturing that sun bleached look of the poorer parts of a city I love. Bosch, a somewhat dour and jaded Hollywood homicide cop, lives in a magnificent stilt house in the Hollywood Hills. You know, one of those due to become an insurance claim receivable when the Big One hits, for these Hills homes are perched on uprights which will be the first to go when tectonic plates commence shifting.

The story line, for no straight cop could afford this place on his salary, is that Bosch participated in the making of a cop movie – there’s a poster on his wall testifying to this – which rewarded him richly, affording him the magnificent home (1870 Blue Heights Dr, Los Angeles, CA 90069) along with some really cool vintage tube hi-fi hardware. The latter, sadly, is wasted on his preference for jazz, which is so much noise in my book, but each to his own. Here’s Harry in his pad:

This image, used in several episodes, immediately harkens back to the greatest modern architectural photograph of a Neutra inspired home, that of the Stahl house, taken by Julius Shulman:

The Stahl House.

If you like your detectives hard bitten, cynical and rule bending, with more than a dash of Philip Marlowe (and some of the complexity) thrown into the mix along with fine acting and cinematography, Harry Bosch is your man. The intense and splendidly named Titus Welliver is Bosch.

Funny Face

Three minutes of absolute magic.

I pontificated on Essential Blu-Ray movies a while back and that short list remains valid today. These movies are essential not to the cinephile or auteur. Rather, they are key for any photographer.

None meets the definition of ‘essential’ better than Stanley Donen’s 1957 Funny Face with Fred Astaire, Audrey Hepburn and the powerhouse that was Kay Thompson. But the movie director had two special tools in his arsenal. One was the aristocratic couturier Hubert de Givenchy, recently deceased. No man more defined ‘elegant’ when it came to modern couture and in Audrey Hepburn – an actress of surpassingly bland acting talent – he found the perfect mannequin. The two would remain linked in the minds of the fashionistas for decades. The other was the ‘go to’ fashion photographer of the ’50s and ’60s, America’s own Richard Avedon, yet another Columbia dropout. When editor Diana Vreeland left Harper’s Bazaar for Vogue she took Avedon with her and the rest is history. A great collaboration defined fashion photography for two decades.

Avedon served as the expert photography adviser on ‘Funny Face’, as this wonderful image with Fred Astaire shows:

Just over half way through the movie the photography crew finally has the somewhat gauche Hepburn more or less beaten into modelling shape and what follows is three minutes of absolute magic. In those three minutes Astaire is shown crafting seven showstopper images as he directs Hepburn in various posing routines in magnificent Parisian locations.

Here he is getting ready for the first with the same giant plate camera in the Avedon image above:


In the Tuileries Gardens, outside The Louvre. The most perfect urban space on earth.

He uses a Rolleiflex as often as the plate camera, even adopting the tricky upside down orientation shown here:

Then the fun begins.



With the balloons at the petit Arc de Triomphe.


At Gare du Nord with the Flèche d’Or, the Paris to Calais train. Givenchy at his very best.


At the florist’s.


The Louvre.


Fishing in the Seine.


Not any doves. Parisian doves.


The Coup de Grace. Givenchy outdoes himself at the Paris Opéra.


7 images. 3 minutes. Absolute magic.

HAL is 50.

And his prophecies are coming true.

Science fiction is a genre for morons. It makes for bad writing and even worse movies. Plot lagging? No problem, throw in some shape shifting. Longueurs too long? Easy. A spot of time travel and disappearance is called for. SF is the poor writer’s opt out of doing the hard job of producing quality prose. SF is also a leading opiate for the masses with their endless taste for all those cretinous Star Wars movies. Hey, a fool and his money are easily parted.

This month Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece, ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ turns fifty. Many who did not pay attention, or who never watched it in the first place, describe it as a science fiction movie. It is nothing of the sort. It is about Artificial Intelligence and machine learning, and shows a world where the machine tries to control man. (It bears adding that the one time ‘2001’ goes seriously sci-fi – as opposed to AI – in the very last chapter, comprises the most frustrating and failed part of an otherwise great movie. Yes, needless to add, time travel is involved).

In the modern era that machine is, of course, Facebook, and Mark Zuckerberg is the lunatic Dr. Chandra of yore, the machine’s father. Only this latter day Dr. Chandra is far smarter. He has monetized his theft of your data and over 2 billion check-ins monthly to his odious platform testify to his genius.


HAL and Facebook are watching and listening. HAL lip reads the astronauts, now conspiring against him.

I cottoned on to the evil of Facebook early on. Obviously the revenue model (‘free’ to users) meant that the suckers were being played, their profiles sold to advertisers and politicians. Why does Facebook not adopt a revenue model where users pay and their data is not sold? Because no one would pay. So if you buy Zuckerberg’s promises to fix the security holes you are stunningly naïve. There is nothing to ‘fix’ so long as you, the user, are the product to be sold.

While the inherent evil of Facebook was clear to me from its creation, I also harken back to a sunny spring day in 2012 when I was walking my son home from his intermediate public school in the Bay Area. I noticed through the fence that every child in the playground was staring intently at the cellphone screen in his hand, tapping away with both thumbs. The surrounding basketball nets remained untroubled by balls. “What are they doing, Winnie?” I asked. “Oh! dad, don’t you know? They are all on Facebook sharing rumors and pictures of friends”.

So I flashed back to The Unfair Advantage I have always sought for my son. If these stupid kids were willing to sacrifice quality study or play time for obsessive use of a rumor system, and if their even dumber parents were willing to allow this, then the child opting not to use that system would automatically have an Unfair Advantage. His available time for productive pursuits would skyrocket.

But I decided to bide my time. I knew Winston used Facebook, albeit in moderation, but a catalyst was needed to get him to stop.

That catalyst appeared a couple of weeks ago when it was disclosed that Facebook data likely installed a traitor in the highest office of the land, with subsequent depradations and destruction of America’s international status to follow. Winston was well aware of this scandalous theft of data of fifty million (70 million? 100 million? 200 million? Take your best guess) Facebook-using morons, garnered through trickery and deceit, then resold for political gain.

I pounced.

Here’s the email:

The ‘THIS’ link is here.

Frankly, I did not fancy my chances of success yet, minutes later, this arrived.

HAL’s plaintive complaint “I can’t do that, Dave” has morphed into “Yes, I can” in my son’s courageous decision.

My son’s Unfair Advantage grows daily. As Stanley Kubrick once memorably put it, “Never get into a fair fight”.

Should you have your child delete Facebook? Please, no. I would rather my son had as little competition in life as possible.

Stanley Kubrick and author Arthur C Clarke set forth the evils of AI for all to hear and see fifty years ago. Now they are laid bare and the users are the victims. Just like Mission Commander Dave Bowman on that space mission and his fellow astronauts, all murdered by HAL in the emotionless pursuit of his mission.


Killing HAL. Keir Dullea as astronaut Dave Bowman guts the murderous HAL’s memory banks.

Given the above, my enjoyment of ‘2001’ has never been greater.

Follow-up – just one day later:

HAL must be spinning in his grave:


Duh! What did you thing they did with it, WaPo? Click the image.

Easter visitor

A flash of red.

It’s impossible for one’s peripheral vision not be attracted by the Cardinal, a bird of such exotic color that you simply cannot miss him.

The Cornell Lab of Ornithology hosts a definitive bird site which shows the Northern Cardinal mostly inhabits the eastern half of the United States but with some migrating as far west as south eastern Arizona, and thank goodness for that.

Panny GX7, 200mm Nikkor with MFT adapter.