Bonfire Opera
"A bird caught in a cathedral," Rat Kings, and an Austrian coming-of-age gem
It’s that time! I’m happy you’re here. I hope you enjoy all the things. Eighteenth substack post here. we. go:
Welcome to the last substack post of 2022! I started this baby off strong and then screenwriting deadlines obliterated me and I thought “is anyone even reading this substack besides my mom?” I was violently humbled when I found out that my mom was not, in fact, reading this. I lost momentum and can fully own that this substack fell by the wayside for the latter half of 2022. However, I am resolved to buckle down, breathe fresh life into it, and go full throttle in 2023. I’m thinking of adding some interviews, and voice notes (if Patti Smith does it so can I!?) PLUS more fun finds to keep this substack sexy, strange, and deranged for us all.
Sending you all good thoughts and hopeful dreams for the New Year. As my friend Corey Clifford said to me via text the other day: “2023 is gonna be our bitch!”
Paradise Hope / Paradies: Hoffnung (Dir. Ulrich Seidl)
This is the third film in the PARADISE TRILOGY, from the Austrian director Ulrich Seidl. PARADISE HOPE tells the story of 13-year-old Melanie (played with grounded immediacy by Melanie Lenz) who is sent by her mother to a camp for overweight kids. One of the mantras the kids are forced to repeat is "If you're happy and you know it, CLAP YOUR FAT”. Insane.
At this camp, Melanie falls head over heels for Arzt, the much older doctor/camp director played by Joseph Lorenz. Joseph Lorenz reminded me of the big bad wolf. He’s bizarre, sweet, and disturbed. There’s a scene in the woods in the third act where he’s full-on unhinged but in such a quiet, desperate way that it’s fascinating to witness.
The film is a slow burn. It’s odd, tender, and sometimes hilarious. The camp looks like a candy-colored prison. Design-wise it walks a thin line between a pastel-colored mental institution and an upscale summer camp. The static shots appear highly choreographed almost to the degree of say, a Wes Anderson film. At the same time, there’s an air of repressed chaos bottled up inside the kids as they struggle to maintain discipline and self-control. The tension explodes with some much-needed debauchery when the campers let loose in their dorm rooms.
My favorite scenes involve innocent and open moments between Melanie and her friend Verena (played by Verena Lehbauer). Moments where they share a pillow, play with each other’s hands and talk about crushes.
Watch the Trailer:
Rent on: Amazon, Vudu, Itunes, Google Play
playlist for you:
Fav songs released in 2022 PLUS a few fav songs not released in 2022.
TikTok obsession:
‘Tis the holiday season and that means the American Ballet Theater is back with their savage dances in full RAT.
Behold #Rattok:
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weekly yoga class in LA:
I missed teaching yoga so much that —
I decided to teach a weekly Sunday morning class IRL
SUNDAY MORNING @theworkpilatesla
10am - 11am
open level | all welcome
*space is limited
?s DM or email theworkpilates@gmail.com
*By Emma Mead
a poem, as promised:
Bonfire Opera
In those days, there was a woman in our circle
who was known, not only for her beauty,
but for taking off all her clothes and singing opera.
And sure enough, as the night wore on and the stars
emerged to stare at their reflections on the sea,
and everyone had drunk a little wine,
she began to disrobe, loose her great bosom,
and the tender belly, pale in the moonlight,
the Viking hips, and to let her torn raiment
fall to the sand as we looked up from the flames.
And then a voice lifted into the dark, high and clear
as a flock of blackbirds. And everything was very still,
the way the congregation quiets when the priest
prays over the incense, and the smoke wafts
up into the rafters. I wanted to be that free
inside the body, the doors of pleasure
opening, one after the next, an arpeggio
climbing the ladder of sky. And all the while
she was singing and wading into the water
until it rose up to her waist and then lapped
at the underside of her breasts, and the aria
drifted over us, her soprano spare and sharp
in the night air. And even though I was young,
somehow, in that moment, I heard it,
the song inside the song, and I knew then
that this was not the hymn of promise
but the body’s bright wailing against its limits.
A bird caught in a cathedral—the way it tries
to escape by throwing itself, again and again,
against the stained glass.
