The Science of Sleep

Did you ever see that Chemical Brothers video, Star Guitar? Where the point of view is as if you’re sitting on a train, traveling somewhere in Europe, and as you look out the window, the pace of every building and landmark you pass miraculously hits each beat in the song? Or the White Stripes' video, Fell in Love With a Girl, that’s all in Lego-animation? Or any number of Bjork’s distinctive storybook/sci-fi videos? All of these concepts come from the brilliant and slightly insane mind of Michel Gondry. The same cinematic genius that brought the nearly unimaginable story of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to the screen and entertained us with Dave Chapelle’s Block Party. He's done it again with his new film and first screenplay, The Science of Sleep.

Created in the same vein as Eternal Sunshine, Science of Sleep is another setting where Gondry collides reality with fantasy, forcing viewers to step into an ulterior world. We are taken on a journey through the dreams of Gael Garcia Bernal's (yum) character, Stephane -- a pleasant but not so mentally stable young innovator, who Gondry loosely based on himself.

Science, I can say with certainty, will be like nothing you've ever experienced before. I know many of you enjoy your standard cookie cutter film with all the basic elements in place: beginning, conflict, climax, conclusion. I do not know if Science will meet this criteria, but I promise that, even if you hate it, you will be thinking about this film days after you leave the theater, possibly even weeks. It'll have you taking your dreams more seriously and questioning how each of us perceives our "reality." Let go for a few hours, reach back into your brain and remember what it was like to imagine anything at anytime; when running through the park was like trekking through a safari and eating fruit roll-ups for dinner was perfectly acceptable.

Gondry is one of my greatest inspirations. His work is unique, memorable and he is fearless in his storytelling decisions. Visually, he continues to break the mold and set new standards with his music videos, commercials and films. I have three people on my list that I want to work for/with before I die and he's one of them. So, Michel, if you're reading this, I will be your student if you'll teach me.

The Science of Sleep is opening in theaters tomorrow, September 22.

For a more realistic experience of dreams (oxymoron, I know) check out: The Science of Sleep: An exhibition of sculpture and pathological creepy little gifts, from Sept 6 - 30 at Deitch Projects located on 76 Grand Street in New York City. "The exhibition allows you to immerse yourself in the sculptural experience of the movie in three dimensions. The sets are listed as 'recreations,' and include 'a bedroom, office, TV station, cave, and creepy little gift room. This pink heart-like room will contain the creepy gifts that Gondry makes for his muses, like the gifts the protagonist, Stephane, makes for Stephanie in the movie."

http://wip.warnerbros.com/scienceofsleep/
http://www.directorslabel.com/michel_gondry.html
http://www.howdoyoudream.com

Death is the Mother of Beauty

I read the above phrase in a poetry class freshman year of college. I thought it presumably melodramatic at the time, until I realized how true it was. You see, I am what one might call the anti-poet. I enjoy lucid language but I find at times much of poetry is just a veil for what people really need to say and I have little patience for that. More often than not, I just say/write what I mean. Literature will always be interpreted by the reader, no matter the genre. We all have internal dictionaries and we certainly resort to selective perception. Which is why literaries have, for centuries, praised poetry. It presses you to think, penetrating your mind, poking at braincells that were otherwise inactive, instead of spoon feeding the idea. However, for a very longtime (and often still) I felt an aversion toward poetry -- I had no desire to take someone's work, who obviously had a very strong point to make, and take it for myself any way I wanted. We've been told that poetry is a form where the reader has the freedom to translate for themselves. But that's a lie, isn't it? There is a correct way to read a poem. To understand why the writer made the choices he/she made. Why that rhythm? why that word? why that tone? The writer had an intention, they had a goal in mind when creating a piece of work. Yet, we take it, like we do any lyric, and create a world we can relate to, don't we?

Death is the Mother of Beauty, I read at eighteen years of age. It just made sense to me and I trusted it. This was the first 'thing' I was able to understand without being told what to think. It wasn't so abstract once I figured it out and now these words stay with me. No, I still have not grown a fondness for poetry (not the way I have for literature). On occasion I will pick up a book of collective poems and attempt to build my taste -- there are very few works that appeal to my senses. I'm hoping that my understanding and admiration of poetry will be something to cultivate in the future. But for now just tell me the way it is, don't give me any frills. Maybe we are what we read.

I'd be curious to learn what others feel about the phrase at hand.

Are You Having Trouble Sleeping?

Try Rakhee's Sleepy Time Playlist! These serene sounds will lull you to a dreamy plain and subdue ill-wanted stimuli. (Depending upon seriousness of insomnia this list can be supplemented with 1 glass warm milk and 1 chocolate chip cookie, taken before bed):

• Le Moulin, Amelie Soundtrack
• Sentimental Mood, by Duke Ellington
• Bombay Theme, Bombay Soundtrack
• Life in Mono, by Mono from Great Expectations Soundtrack
• The Build-up, by Kings of Convenience
• Misread, by Kings of Convenience
• Come Away With Me, by Nora Jones
• Bulletproof, by Radiohead
• Waiting Line, by Zero 7
• Sparks, by Coldplay
• See You Soon, by Coldplay (b-sides)
• Brothers on a Hotel Bed, by Death Cab For Cutie
• Company Calls Epilogue, by Death Cab For Cutie
• An Imagined Affair, by Elbow
• Such Great Heights, by Iron and Wine
• Tongue Tied, by Aqualung
• Neon, by John Mayer (acoustic)
• Pink Moon, by Nick Drake
• On a Day Like Today, by Keane
• Hamburg Song, by Keane
• Farewell and Goodnight, by The Smashing Pumpkins
• Mermaid, by Sade

And if tonight my soul may find her peace
in sleep, and sink in good oblivion,
and in the morning wake like a new-opened flower
then I have been dipped again in God, and new-created.

~D.H. Lawrence

Famous Last Words

Imagine: You lay there, on your deathbed, surrounded by loved ones and right before you exhale your last breath you utter your last words, memorializing you forever to your children, and your children's children. This is of course if you have the good fortune of dying a slow, well thought out death. *snicker* But if you happen to get hit by a bus or fall out of a window, and die instantly...well then, your last words (or yelp rather) will not be that memorable.

In any case, here is a fun list of some famous last words that I found quite entertaining and interesting -- some are funny, others tragic and terribly romantic.

"This is absurd. This is absurd".
~Sigmund Freud (last words)

"Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something."
~last words of Pancho Villa (1877-1923)

"Now, now my good man, this is no time for making enemies."
~Voltaire (1694-1778) on his deathbed in response to a priest asking that he renounce Satan.

"Either the wallpaper goes or I do."
~Oscar Wilde, last words (1854-1900)

"Get out of here and leave me alone. Last words are for fools who haven't said enough already."
~Karl Marx, last words, 1883

"Get my swan costume ready."
~Anna Pavlova, ballerina, 1881-1931

"All right, then, I'll say it: Dante makes me sick."
~Lope Félix de Vega Carpio (1562-1635), Spanish dramatist and poet. On being informed he was about to die.

"Josephine..."
~Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821).

"Call the office and tell them I won't be in on Monday."
~Betty Allen, who worked until her death at 93.

"Friends applaud, the comedy is over."
~Beethoven, Ludwig van (1770-1827)

"You too, Brutus?"
~Caesar, Julius Gaius (100-44 B.C.)

"Nothing, but death."
~Jane Austen, writer, d. July 18, 1817 When asked by her sister, Cassandra, if there was anything she wanted.

"I love you Sarah. For all eternity, I love you."
~James K. Polk, US President, d. 1849 Spoken to his wife.

"La tristesse durera toujours." ("The sadness shall last forever")
~Vincent van Gogh

"Drink to me."
~Pablo Picasso

"Am I dying or is this my birthday?""
~Lady Nancy Astor, d. 1964 When she woke briefly during her last illness and found all her family around her bedside.

"Damme cafe, vou escrever!" (Give me coffee, I am going to write)
~Olavo Bilac, Brazilian poet

I've always been a big fan of quotes. Mostly because I like how a simple sentence can sum up such profound moments in life. Quotes can be comforting, inspiring, moving or they can just make you laugh-- they can say the right thing when nobody you know can. Just like a song or a great novel, one little quote can speak volumes and stay with you as a pillar forever.

What would YOUR last words be? (As if dying weren't pressure enough!)

Hotel 3F

For all of you aspiring New Yorkers, understand one thing, your home -- whether it be a spacious loft or a 9x10 studio, where the kitchen sink doubles as a shower -- will become a virtual hotel room. Nearly every weekend since I've lived here my roommate and I have hosted visitors. Weekends free of plans or obligations have become somewhat of a dying breed these days. But you know what? I've come to realize that I love it! It's true, I do -- I love my apartment packed with people, suitcases filling each corner, waiting in line for the shower, cleaning up after those damn scavengers I call friends, laughing til 5am, tossing in bed next to "Snory McSnorerson" (you know who you are)! And I've also come to realize that I find joy out of showing people a good time. It's a great feeling to know that the weekend was a success and that my guests had a blast.

Why is this worth writing about you might be wondering. Well, coming from a girl who used to enjoy most of her time alone, this is quite an interesting analysis. Could it be New York has turned me into more of a social person or perhaps I've just come to miss and appreciate my friends and family more? And seeing them is a bigger treat than it ever used to be?

I do appreciate those rare weekends where I have no plans, nobody to answer to, no reason to wake up early on a Saturday -- As a matter of fact, I think this weekend is one of those rare weekends...hmmmm...What on earth will I do with myself? *sigh*