Best Laid Plans

Sorryless5 Comments

The two-car garage that served as a storage shed located on the west side of the farmhouse was dying slowly, one freckled piece of fire and smoke at a time. A lit cigarette and a gas can was all it took to provide the tenants on Euclid Drive with an impromptu popcorn outing. Dantley fixed up his posse- Josh, Emie, Jess and her special friend Alanna- with a couple buckets of the salty treat as they sat on blankets and watched heat, fuel and oxygen provide a free concert on a lazy Saturday evening.

“This is better than streaming,” Josh observed as the cinders snapped, crackled and popped for a rapt audience.

“You need a hobby,” Emie smiled.

“Sex doesn’t count?”

“Fucking kids,” Detective Riggs spit as he joined the gang while the fire department soaked up the flames. “A couple little assholes from down the block decided to sneak a smoke in the garage . . they didn’t kill the ash and well . .”

“Who sneaks smokes in the garage anymore, I mean seriously?” Dantley observed.

“Thankfully the space was pretty much empty save for a couple boxes and a painting,” Riggs claimed.

“Oh shit! The Dunk!”

“Say what?” Riggs asked.

“That’s what it’s called. It’s a print by the artist Ernie Barnes . .” Dantley began.

“The cat who did all that funky art for the show Good Times?”

“Yeah, I was selling it to Monica for a benefit auction she’ll be hosting,”

One of the firemen delivered the canvas wrapped work to Riggs, who began to unwrap it. Unbelievably, neither the canvas wrap nor the print had sustained any damage, at all.

“Everything in that garage? Blacker than yours truly . . but this canvas and the print? It’s as if they was watching the fire from these damn blankets you got laid out here, I ain’t ever seen anything like it . . .” Riggs said, shaking his head in amazement.

“How?”

“It was Alice, Theodore and Mildred!” Jess squealed.

“Wait, there were other kids besides those two knuckleheads?” Riggs asked, his ears perking up enough to show his hand. He was going to miss cop life, more than a little.

“Chill, Mr. Retirement. She’s talking about the dead people we tried to dial up on our séance nights,” Dantley chimed in.

“Huh?”

“Jess sees dead people,” Josh added.

“Okay then please explain how your print looks as if you just pulled it off the wall upstairs,” Jess challenged the men.

“I don’t know . .” Dantley replied sheepishly.

While the gang contemplated the possibility of a paranormal intervention, Monica crashed the party now. She went right for the artwork, inspecting it as Riggs and the firemen watched her from a safe distance. Dantley marveled at how she could silence grown men so easily.

“Dantley left it in the garage for you to pick up. In case he wasn’t home when you came by . .” Jess smiled, diming out her part-time pal.

“Thanks kid,”

“What? You left this in there?” Monica said, gesturing at the bonfire.

“I scored another painting and I didn’t have the space for this one upstairs. But hey . . it’s like it never even happened! Amazing, right?” Dantley said as Monica simply shook her head.

Kyra’s car pulled up along the side of the road and she made her way over to the fire party as Dantley closed his eyes tight in the hopes she was simply a mirage. And then she spoke.

“Dantley, were you sneaking smokes in the garage?” She asked.

“Oh shit, you caught me. Riggs, take me in. For the love of God?” Dantley said as he held his cuff-ready hands out in a mock gesture of desperation.

“I’ll let you handle this on your own, my boy . .” Riggs smiled as he wished the gang a good night.

“I missed the part where you were invited to this party,” Monica glared, turning her attention away from the matter at hand for now.

“Excuse me?” Kyra replied.

“Were you invited?”

“I just got back into town,”

“Let me guess, you’re fresh off a bad breakup,” Monica said.

“How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,”

“Well I was just passing by and . .” Kyra stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words.

“It’s funny but you’re always passing by. Uninvited. And so now? You can leave,” Monica said in a straight razor voice.

“Umm . . okay?”

“That means now,” Monica said as Kyra rose from the blanket. “Oh . . and you owe my man Dantley a bottle of tequila, which you can leave on his doorstep. Thanks and buh bye . .”

“I’m voting for you next time,” Josh told Monica as Kyra slinked away into the night.

“Next time huh?” Monica smiled.

“Well, I’ve been playing the conscientious objector in the past few elections, truth be told,” Josh blushed.

“It’s alright. Want me to let you guys in on a little secret? The first time I ever voted in any election at all? I voted for myself,” Monica confessed.

“That is gangster shit right there. You have two votes now,” Emie said.

“And how about you two cuties?” Monica asked Jess and Alanna.

“We’re too young to vote,” Jess frowned.

“Forget voting. I’m talking a full fledged dance party with your names on the marquee. Dantley told me about how that asshole principal at Alanna’s school wouldn’t let you two attend Junior Prom together . . so I started making phone calls and . . how does the Trust Performance Arts Center sound?”

“No . . . WAY!” Jess and Alanna squealed in unison.

“Way. Next Saturday night . . save the date,”

“Oh Em GEEE. Monica, you are a superstar!” Jess said as she jumped into her arms with Alanna right behind her.

“Yeah well, you can thank Dantley too . .”

When the girls finished hugging it out with Monica, they moved to Dantley as he flashed his favorite politician a loving wink. Then they went running back to the house to tell mom.

“We have some business to attend to upstairs mister. Good night people,” Monica said as Dantley followed along.

“Yeah uh huh . . business,” Josh laughed.

“You’re a doll,” Monica told Josh as she climbed the stairs.

“You hear that? Our state representative thinks I’m a doll,”

“Uh no, dolls don’t have this much facial hair,” Emie countered.

“Teddy bears do,”

“For the last time, Teddy bears aren’t dolls Josh,”

“You’re wrong, you’re so wrong about this . . .”

Back upstairs, Monica and Dantley talked business.

“You might just be the luckiest sonofabitch I’ve ever met,” Monica said as she looked over the framed artwork.

“Don’t I know it,”

“And don’t take this the wrong way, but wrapping it in canvas? I mean, I get that you had it insured but still,”

“Why would I insure it?” Dantley asked.

“Umm, because that’s what people usually do when they have high-value original artwork?”

“Good one,”

“We’ll have to go to the bank first thing Monday morning to complete this transaction. You good with that?” Monica asked.

“Yeah right, the bank. Just take it. I think you’re good for a hundred and fifty bucks,” Dantley winked.

“What?”

“That’s what we agreed to. Right? A hundred and fifty dollars for the print?”

“Dantley. We agreed to a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. For an Ernie Barnes original,”

“What? No!’

“Yes! How do you not know this?!”

“What? No!”

“Don’t you remember when I took it to an appraiser?”

“Oh, you were serious about that?”

“You buy and sell vintage crap!”

“Not art!”

“Holy shit you didn’t know!” Monica laughed as she embraced him.

“It’s real?!”

“Oh it’s real baby. And to think . . I could have taken advantage of you,”

“You still can,” Dantley said as they kissed.

“Before we get to that, I have a favor to ask,” Monica said.

“What’s that?”

“Be right back,”

Monica peeked through the blinds to make sure Riggs was gone before going downstairs to her car that was parked around back. When she returned, Dantley was constructing Martinis in the kitchen.

“I just figured we owed ourselves a celebratory drink,” Dantley said as he toted a shaker and two glasses to the coffee table. Thankfully he had set them down before he saw what else resided on the very same coffee table now. The black bag.

“What in the blessed fuck is going on here,”

“That’s the one,” Monica confessed.

“But . . . it . . that . . the police . . it’s . . the Godamn thing is in the property room downtown Monica!”

“Yes, one of the black bags is in the property room. Just not this black bag,”

“I don’t understand,”

“After . . . Vincent, I got to working this thing into more and more. I turned one black bag containing two million dollars into three black bags containing two million dollars. It took a lot of money making, and a lot of years but I got there. So I made three black bags,”

“Why?”

“To throw off anyone looking for the thing,”

“Three bags huh? One for you and one for each of the boys,”

“Yes,”

“And the one found with David?”

“Was his,”

“How’d he get his hands on it?”

“I’m still trying to figure out how he found my hiding spot for it, but rest assured neither of the boys was ever going to find the original,”

“They didn’t know? That there were three of these?”

Monica shook her head. “They couldn’t. David would’ve burned through his in no time and so I couldn’t tell him,”

“Which meant you couldn’t tell either one of them,” Dantley finished as Monica fell into his arms.

“I was playing the long game, what with Riggs up my ass for all those years and David moving from one bad habit to the next. Now I wonder if I was wrong about all of this. Maybe if I had told them, David would still be here,”

“Don’t do that. Nick killed his brother because he was afraid David was going to turn on you once he ran out of second chances. Nick didn’t give a damn about the money but he was never going to let anything happen to you,”

“Well, this is the bag. The real one,”

“Can you do me a favor and hold off on asking me whatever you’re gonna ask me until breakfast?”

“Only if you’re making French toast,”

“Deal,”

Cam- Burning House

Best Laid Plans

Sorryless21 Comments

One month later. Their month, not ours, even if it’s been nearly half a month since my last entry into the loves and losses of Dantley Grisham and friends. But really, who’s counting? Well . . I am. And we’ve only got a couple installments left of this puppy, I promise. Those of you who’ve remained on this ride, you’ve been exceedingly patient with me as I wandered through the wilderness searching for the thing and I thank you for it. Humbly and much. 

Monica Greene wept.

Granted, it did not possess the divinity of Jesus weeping outside the tomb of his old pal Lazarus, but her tears were every bit as genuine and regretful. It happened on the morning she received the phone call that her only living son Nicholas had turned himself in. He had confessed to the murders of the architect Pedro Mel and his brother David.

As per the former, Nick had accompanied his mother and Pedro on their lover’s getaway to the secluded island of Rokovoko many years earlier. Mama refused to leave her then teenage son at home after he had threatened to take his own life, and so the lover’s getaway turned into separate beds for Monica and Pedro. Nick told authorities he killed Mel while he slept on the sofa because he objected to how he treated his mother. He left out the part where he killed Pedro because of the threats he had leveled at Monica during a gin induced rage on the night in question. Mel knew what Monica had done to Vincent and Maury and Nick just couldn’t stand the idea that a dime store Romeo such as Pedro Mel might take down his mother.

David’s murder, that was different and the same. David also knew what had transpired between his mother and her two deceased husbands, but unlike Mel, he would never tell. But while he abided by the family seal, David was every bit the degenerate gambler looking for an easy way out of his own mess. Nick had murdered David after he caught him attempting to leave town with that black bag full of money. Nick killed his brother because he knew full well the contents of that bag were to remain intact, no matter who possessed it. David would’ve pissed it all away in six months. Monica had earned the bag in the most cold blooded of terms. And while she had spent her way into a better life with the money she had stolen from her two favorite thieves, she had summarily returned every last dollar back once her life found runway. To her way of thinking, she had cleaned the money between those dark days and all future ones. The bag, thus became her talisman. Whatever awaited her, heaven or hell or nothing at all, she would be taking that bag with her in spirit.

Nick’s arrest ended the career of Detective Riggs. He was done chasing ghosts. He was ready to fish on Monday mornings and switch out the cream in his coffee with rum and go to Matinees by himself and stay busy enough that his wife Maria wouldn’t force him to get a part time gig. He hadn’t wanted it to end this way, he really hadn’t. Monica had always been his great white whale, but it was painfully obvious she was cursed and bulletproof. Both. Still, he felt an overwhelming sadness for the woman he had vowed to put behind bars. That chance gone now, but so too, her sons; one was dead and the other was almost certainly never going to hit another drive-thru in this lifetime.

The latest scandal to befall Monica Greene’s political career only furthered her road to bigger and bolder conclusions. One week after her son’s full confession and arrest, a statewide poll found her to be the overwhelming favorite if she decided to run for Senate. In this day and age, scandals no longer sealed a politician’s fate, they strengthened it.

Amy and Dantley met at La Cosa Nostra, an Italian eatery where all the workers dressed as mobsters and the menu featured staples such as the ‘Bugsy Bialy’ and ‘Corleone Soup’. They ordered a couple of espresso smoothies and adjourned to the courtyard out back.

“Yanno, I hate the fact that I love this drink so much . .” Dantley said.

“You’re a purist in a long lost world, handsome,”

“How you holding up sunshine?”

“Honestly? I have no fucking idea how I’m doing. I was sleeping with a double murderer all this time. I even introduced him to the boys and you know I don’t take that kinda shit lightly, not after my train wreck of a marriage,”

“Babe, you saw the best in Nick and as fucked as it sounds what with all the shit that’s come down, there was a lot of best to the guy,”

“I think so too,” Amy said, her voice clipped by the tears threatening to release themselves once again. Dantley clutched to her hand as they sipped their drinks and deliberated silently on other things to talk about as he loosened a Marlboro from its box and torched it. He got through the first sip before Amy snatched it away from him.

“You’re not smoking these days, I hope,”

“No Dad, only when you’re around,” She winked.

“How did life ever get this crazy?” He asked to no one in particular.

“I could go for less crazy,”

“Amen to that. Hey, let’s go to the range, whaddaya say?”

“You’re not serious,”

“I am serious. We can take our aggression out on a bucket of golf balls, pick up some food along the way just so’s we can annoy all those Betty and Bob By The Books who try to turn us in for ignoring the “No Outside Food Allowed” sign. Why not?” Dantley smiled.

“Shit, I thought you were suggesting a shooting range. I was gonna have to kick your balls into your rib cage,”

“That’s a really shitty visual,”

“Yeah, let’s hit some golf balls while I tell you all about my journey into celibacy,” Amy said.

“Oh come on, you’ll be out there again in no time,”

“I’m gonna hold out for Rob Lowe,”

“He’s married,”

“It works for you, doesn’t it?”

“I’m nobody’s blueprint,”

“Damn you for making sense, Dantley Grisham,” Amy said as she rose from her bench and embraced him.

“I got you girl,”

“You kept me from screaming today and for that, I thank you . .”

“Yanno . . if I had a dime for every time a woman told me that? I’d have a dime,”

“Life’s funny that way, isn’t it?”

“Hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious,”

 

BERJAYA

Wordless Wednesday – Not Quite

Dale41 Comments

So… this little fella could barely fly and went right into my pool where he spread his wings and floated until I scooped him out.  Brought him to the edge of the pool to dry off and the silly thing flew right back in.  Scooped him out again and this time, brought him to the edge of the balcony, next to the grass.  He eventually hopped off and hid under my raised garden.

BERJAYA BERJAYA BERJAYA BERJAYA

A Tale As Old As Rhyme

Sorryless26 Comments

BERJAYAEvery now and then, sports will give you a moment that makes you go dayum! 

That dayum moment arrived for New York Knicks fans last night at some time after eleven pm on the East Coast. It happened when OG Anunoby grabbed the long rebound off a Victor Wembanyama miss, cradled the ball in his arms and then released it high into the Texas night as the clock had exhausted itself for another season.

I’m sure plenty of Knicks fans refused to go to sleep early on Sunday morning for fear they would wake up to find they had dreamt the whole thing. Honestly, the Knicks magical run to the crown feels dream-like. They were down 2-1 in their first round series to the Atlanta Hawks and so of course, the sports call-in shows were screaming for a change. Welp, they got it. The Knicks went 14-1 from that point on, dispensing with Atlanta in six before steamrolling Philadelphia and Cleveland to reach the finals for the first time in more than a quarter century.

In spite of that dominant run, they were being fitted for silver medals by most of the experts.  It was the widely held opinion that either the defending champion Thunder or the new kids on the block Spurs were going to hoist the hardware come June. And then the Knicks showed up and took every haymaker the Spurs threw at them. New York fell behind by double digits in the first two games in San Antonio and so of course they came back home leading two games to none.

Game three was the Victor Wembanyama coming out party as the Spurs prevailed. They cut the Knicks and in so doing, they proved that the Knicks could in fact, bleed. The experts got to stepping again, writing about how Wemby was the newest villain to steal the Garden away from the home team. Just as Jordan and Reggie Miller and Tyrese Haliburton had done in years gone by.

BERJAYA

And then game four happened. And everything you believed before gave way to everything you knew after it was over. There was magic in the night and the Knicks used every bit of it when they came back from twenty nine points down to stun San Antonio in front of a Garden crowd that knew better than to leave before the credits started rolling. And yes, the Spurs had a lot to do with the end result in that game with their youth and inexperience as they blundered their way into the record books. But still, you had to give the Knicks props for having the audacity to keep getting off the canvas. Analytics gave them a one percent chance of winning that game midway through the third quarter of game four. But that was before OG Anunoby’s “Hand of God” tip in gave the Knicks the lead for good. A tip in off a three point heave that clanged off the backboard and flew twelve feet into the air as OG cut between three Spurs defenders to gently nudge the biscuit in the basket? Yeah, to hell with analytics.

This Knicks team is just different. They scratch and they claw and they clutch to the top rope until they collect the senses that done got splattered all over the ring. And then they punch back. It’s as if the spirit of Rocky and Rudy got together and created a basketball team. They came back from being down 22 to Cleveland and then they somehow upped that ante, storming back from double digit holes in all five games of the NBA finals.

When the Knicks fired Tom Thibodeau after last year’s series loss to Indiana and replaced him with Mike Brown, the collective yawn was palpable. Brown was a journeyman coach whose three previous NBA stops resulted in exactly zero finals appearances. And if you’re looking for some irony, try this on for size. Thirty years ago, the Yankees fired the guy we believed held our best chance to win a title and replaced him with Joe Torre. A journeyman manager . . . stay with me on this, whose three previous MLB stops resulted in exactly zero World Series appearances. Yeah, turns out the sporting Gods knew the assignment.

Brown, like Torre before him, won the whole damn thing in his first take with his new team. And you don’t have to be a Knicks fan- most of us who’ve been pulling for them the last few weeks aren’t- to be happy as hell for him. He’s a good basketball man.  He’s a good man. He showed up in New York and he accomplished what Hall of Famers like Larry Brown, Rick Pitino, Pat Riley and Phil Jackson could not. And not for nothing but if he wanted to run for Mayor, Mamdani would be wise to start clearing out his office.

The guy was an afterthought until he became a legend, and his ascent mirrors that of his charges. Dallas cut Jalen Brunson loose because it believed Luke Doncic was the championship piece to their puzzle and umm . . how’d that turn out for the Mavericks? Karl Anthony Towns was kicked to the curb by Minnesota and then summarily trashed as being too soft. I hope they enjoyed watching him this week. OG Anunoby was just a guy on that Toronto Raptors title team and now he’ll never have to buy another drink in the tri-state area. Mikal Bridges was “the worst trade ever” according to New York sportswriters but hell, that was all the way back in April. This bunch wasn’t anointed or inevitable and right now, they couldn’t give a damn about any of that because they’re the last team standing.

Check out this block party. One block out of an entire city that was doing the same exact thing last night. Oh, and then keep scrolling down because obviously, this post, like the Knicks run, refuses to end . . .

New York Knicks Fans Sing Empire State Of Mind

They were down by as many as sixteen points last night and as one pundit remarked, it felt as if the Knicks had the Spurs right where they wanted them. Because they did. When I checked the score to find they were down by eleven, it honestly felt as if they were winning. They went on a 21-7 run to close things out and all that Wemby chatter will have to wait till next year.

Last night was fifty three years in the making. Delivered to a town and a team that has braved its way through a ton of haymakers over the last half century. It was closing in on midnight when the dream became reality. Finally.

The party might never end.

JAY Z- Empire State Of Mind ft. Alicia Keys

Best Laid Plans

Sorryless27 Comments

Dantley was having that dream again. The one where Jesus girl had him handcuffed to the bed while running through an inventory of dirty ideas in that affected ski bunny barista lisp that sounded like foreplay to his ears. She slinked her way up to him, brandishing the snub nosed revolver he’d purchased from his rainy day fund and it brought a smile to his face.

He awoke to find the dream in a head on collision with reality with Monica straddling him,  that very same Ruger pointing at his face. She was Karen to his Henry Hill, the lost soul to his Angel of Death. She was the beginning of his end and in that moment, a peaceful, easy feeling washed over him.

“Listen to me,”

“As if I have a choice?”

“You’re closing up shop on the gossip bingo party,”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and your little friend . . you need to quit talking about my family business,”

“What? The family business where people end up missing or dead?”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about,”

“We’ve speculated, sure . . same as anyone who reads your Wiki page. But I’ll cease and desist if you feel it will impinge on our . . . situation,”

“My first husband Vincent was a substitute teacher when I met him. He was thirty-two, I was a junior in high school. Do the math. I snuck out of the house one night and he treated me to Sizzler and I guess he figured I owed him something for the fine dining experience so we had sex in the backseat of his ’62 Buick . . .”

“Jesus,”

“I fell in love with the piece of shit,” She said as her eyes welled up.

“You were a kid,”

“There I was, no family except for a grandmother who was half blind and completely alcoholic and this fucked up father figure of a man who promised me a better life. Three years later I was pregnant with twins. I quit my job as an assistant manager at a car dealership . . .”

” . . . I turned thirty in the same town, two kids, working overnight shifts in a convenience store just to make ends meet while Vincent slept with every girl in the local titty bar. And that’s when I knew it was live or die time. That’s when I knew I would do anything it took!” Monica’s hands began to shake as her face transformed into an angular distortion.

“Okay . . .” He replied in a traced whisper.

“So whatever happened back there . . . happened. I regret nothing,”

“I’m on your side Monica,”

“Good,” She replied, leaning into him for a kiss before jumping out of bed and placing the Ruger on the bedside table. “It wasn’t loaded, but you already knew that,”

“Yeah . . sure,” Dantley lied.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Anything but Sizzler . .”

“You are such a cheeky monkey, you know that?” She burrowed into him and they kissed more deeply now. As far as love things went, theirs was a glorious fuckstorm.

“What about Maury?”

“I would load the Ruger this time but it’s obvious you’re not daunted by the idea of having your face blown off,”

“Just a question,”

“I think I almost loved him. Until he started drinking again and he was taking everything out on me. I bet you his godson Riggs doesn’t know about that side of him, ”

“All I know is that a guy who lived in the same place his entire life went missing and was never found,”

“There you go again, speculating. For fuck’s sake Dantley, stop being predictable . . it’s so unbecoming,”

“Listen, I don’t give a great good fuck where Vincent or Maury ended up. And I’m not even gonna mention the mysterious circumstances surrounding the deaths of Pedro Mel or Graham,”

“You just did. Mel was lost inside his own head and Graham was worse than that and I didn’t have anything to do with how things ended with either of them. You don’t have to believe me but since I’m already on the hook for my first two husbands, why would I quit while I’m behind?”

“I didn’t say anything,”

“Let me finish. You already know enough about those situations to convict me in the court of public opinion if you chose to,”

“I don’t . . choose to,”

“Mel and Graham, they were tortured souls. Now I’m sure I did Graham no favors during our last conversation when I basically told him he should just end it all, considering his already frail state of mind,”

“I think I’ll make waffles,” Dantley said, changing the subject as he entered the kitchen. He found a brand new Bunn coffeemaker on the counter, courtesy of his sugar mama.

“You like?” Monica beamed.

“Oh shit babe, you shouldn’t have,” He smiled as he inspected his brand new toy.

“Don’t go throwing that one down the stairs,” She laughed.

“I’ll miss that ritual, but I guess it’s time to stop collecting carafes huh?”

“Death doesn’t faze you . . I mean, not in the least,”

“And?”

“It’s one of the things we have in common,” Monica smiled.

“I knew you weren’t really gonna take me out though. It would’ve ruined your chances of becoming Senator or President or Queen of some misbegotten country that doesn’t know how much it needs you yet,”

“That assumes I don’t have a cleaner,”

“That a girl,” Dantley said as he kissed her.

Bad Blood- Neil Sedaka 

Hollywood Is Dead, Long Live Hollywood!

Sorryless35 Comments

BERJAYA

Curry Barker lives here now.

He’s the twenty-five year old YouTuber who wrote and directed the supernatural, psychological horror film, Obsession. A movie that has thus far grossed over $160 million bucks worldwide. And yeah, umm . . that’s on a budget of $750,000. Which has people wondering if the Hollywood we knew is preparing to meet up with the former King of France, Charles VII at the big ole’ Captain’s Club in the sky.

The answer is clear. Yes. And no.

Yeah it’s going to change the way this town does its business. But that’s been happening since the first reel made its way into the can. D.W. Griffith brought silent film to life and about eight people on the face of the earth could write a book report about the guy without needing ChatGPT. Oscar Micheaux trashed the narrow minded tropes of black people by depicting them as doctors, lawyers and businessmen and who remembers him? And as for the guys people do remember, Coppola and Scorsese made high art out of crime and punishment. Spielberg ushered in the era of the summer blockbuster. Tarantino showed us what independent filmmaking could offer. Nolan made nonlinear storytelling a fixture of the craft. Each and every one of these fellas were going to change things. And did.

The point is, change is what Hollywood has been doing, like, forever. It only feels as if everything has remained the same because production companies keep baking up reboots and relying on blockbusters when scores of more deserving ventures (Not so shameless Hamnet reference) get a sliver of the spotlight.

It’s really not personal though, it’s strictly business. Hollywood needs the reboots and the blockbusters. It’s how they butter their bread. For every art movie that wows a niche audience, there’s gotta be a Tom Cruise who behaves like a fucking maniac in the latest impossible mission. You want one, you’re gonna have to deal with the other. But I’m fairly certain that even Orson Welles would be impressed with all the cinematic works that have been brought to life since he left the building.

And just for the record, I ain’t putting Curry Barker on this Rushmore bus just yet. He just got here five minutes ago and as brilliant as his first joint is, he’s got a bunch of airline miles to go before he can sleep in those rooms. But lemme tell you, the kid is making sure Hollywood notices. And they have. The peeps at A24 were so impressed after viewing Obsession at a film festival that they asked him to reboot Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Yes it’s another reboot and yes, he would be a fool to say no. He’s going to have to stroke their egos while using his creative own. And you know what? As much as I bitch about reboot redux, I’ll go see his vision of the thing because quite simply, he has our full attention, for good reason.

Imma dish a quick review of Obsession and as much as it rankles the ankles of my OG pal Joe Pesci, there might be spoilers, so you can quit this post now if you plan on seeing this flick.

Michael Johnston plays Bear, the lovesick dope who pines for the affections of Nikki, played brilliantly by Inde Navarrette. Problem is, he’s stuck in the friend zone until he buys something called a One Wish Willow in a gift shop. He sits in his car after driving Nikki home one night and stews over his inability to tell her how he really feels. So he gets the brilliant idea (sic) to open the box and snap the willow as he wishes for Nikki to love him more than anything in the whole wide world and guess what? It works!

That? As it turns out . . ain’t great.

Once Nikki and Bear get together, it’s all French toast and painting toe nails. The requisite musical montage ensues, in which their love thing is presented in a fast forward cascade of silly, romantic scenarios. This time lapse is followed by a few scenes of comic relief that feel inescapably hopeless because you know it’s not going to last and that when this love bill comes due? So does all reason.

And that’s the thing. Brilliance doesn’t come from the big ideas. It comes from the small ones and the common ones and the mundane ones, made big by the manner in which they are presented to us. Obsession is just the latest love gone wrong song where boy meets girl, boy wishes girl would give him the time of day and then BOOM! But this boom achieves a sonic thrust.

Pretty fucking literally.

BERJAYABarker uses sound like a master. He doesn’t simply revitalize the art of the jump scare, he reinvents it. It’s why the quiet moments in this movie leave you holding your breath in anticipation of the hellish inevitability that awaits. I haven’t been taken by the sound of a horror flick like this since The Exorcist, and coming from yours truly, that is high praise.

The maestro of this mayhem purposely goes cheap on the lighting, allowing him to paint a visual dimension to the ominous mood that hangs like a dark cloud over each and every scene. He allows the moviegoer to imagine what lives in the dark and yanno, that there is a director who knows his shit. By taking something away, he gives us so much more.

What separates this movie from other supernatural horror movies is the relatability it provides. Maybe a few of us out there have had a poltergeist for a roommate or have gotten lost in a forest with a witch that wants to eat our eyeballs. And hells bells, there are probably more than a few of us who believe they are raising the antichrist’s child. But by and large, it’s not that common a thing.

Crazy partners? Yeah, most of us have had some experience with a crazy partner and lived to tell the tale. About halfway through this movie, when things are going from bad to worse to nuh uh, I actually laughed out loud after a particularly horrible sequence of events. Not because I’m a psychopath (at least as far as I’m aware). No, my visceral reaction was the result of having experienced a similar situation(s). It taps into those memories, taking you back to that intersection between love and hate where you would have been just fine if a Mack truck ran the light on you. It’s ridiculous and it’s terrible and it’s all too real. Barker does that. He knows our secret rooms.

BERJAYAIf the image above looks familiar, it’s from The Exorcist. It’s the iconic snapshot of Father Merrin, played by Max von Sydow, arriving at the MacNeil residence in Georgetown. This is a movie I swore I would never watch again thanks to Captain Howdy and Linda Fucking Blair. Obsession is pushing me to it because I find the parallels between these two movies to be fascinating enough that I am compelled to make the jump. Without a parachute.

Damn this kid.

Love Will Keep Us Together 

 

 

Best Laid Plans

Sorryless30 Comments

“I stayed up last night writing a eulogy until it occurred to me that Mel would’ve kicked my ass for being so presumptuous,” Dantley began. His voice was shaky but his legs were inspired by the brave face Trudy was showing as she sat in the front row, dressed all in black. His lovely bride of thirty-eight years, an anniversary that had now graduated into that sacred place called forever.

“Well, he wouldn’t have really kicked my ass because let’s face it, he was the last of the pacifists, yanno? But he would’ve given me that disappointed look that was so much worse than any ass kicking. Because you really had to mess up for Mel to look at you sideways. Mel forgave. He was kind. He was patient. He listened. These were his superpowers. You might not consider kindness, patience and forgiveness to be  superpowers but I can assure you that we live in an age where the stuff is in shorter supply than the Beatles Yesterday and Today album. And . . these things . . they’re much more valuable. But it came naturally to Mel,”

Dantley took a breath and then a deeper one as he glanced back at his now former neighbor. He kept his gaze stuck to the man until the words came back to him, as if he were riding on a spell gifted him from the other side of that mystical door through which all the very best things got stolen.

“Damn . . . it really did come naturally to Mel. Not just forgiveness, but everything and I do mean everything. All the good stuff, he was made of it, and there was never a day when he wasn’t busy giving it away. He liked to say he owned nothing and he wouldn’t have it any other way and I think it took me way too long to figure out what the hell the man was talking about. But I did,”

“I have to disagree with Mel though, because he did own something. He owned the moments. All of ’em. Every single one. I remember one of our last conversations . . I was feeling mighty sorry for myself and Mel was having none of it. And then I started talking about do overs and he just stopped me right there and said ‘Dantley, every time we wake up . . it’s a do over’.”

“I’m gonna miss the hell out of him,”

Dantley stepped away from the podium and embraced Trudy in silence before moving back to his circle.

“How’d I do?” Dantley asked after tucking himself between his friends.

“Aside from all the ass kicking talk, I never realized how eloquent you could be,” Josh said.

“I had no prepared speech, man,” Dantley replied.

“Oh don’t listen to him Dantley, it was beautiful,” Emie said, taking his hand in hers and squeezing tightly.

“It really was beautiful, handsome . . .” Amy agreed, taking his other hand and squeezing tightly.

“Even at a funeral you’re scoring with the ladies,” Josh smiled.

“Hey, funerals are a top five hookup spot, didn’t you know?” Dantley observed.

“Jesus, I say one nice thing about you . . ” Emie said mockingly as she removed her hand from Dantley’s, the slightest of smiles creasing her face.

“Handsome, can I talk to you for a second?” Amy asked.

“Sure,”

The pair removed themselves and made way for the hallway in search of a private place where they could chat as Josh gave his pal googly eyes.

“You’re such a child,” Emie said.

“Hey, we’re watching a master at work here, give the man some respect will you?” Josh whispered as his friends exited the room.

With this being the last service of the day, the funeral home was empty so Amy and Dantley were able to find a quiet spot at the far end of the hallway. The space housed an impressive collection of corner cut casket displays. As the name explains, the display consists of one corner of a casket. Many funeral homes utilize the corner cut in order to save space. Dantley closed the door behind them and Amy spilled the beans, confessing that Nicholas had told her he needed some space.

” . . and that’s why he’s not here,”

“Oh shit babe, I’m sorry. You okay?”

“Yeah I’m good. This is for the best, really. I had a feeling about the guy and it wasn’t good,”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he knows way more about his brother’s death than he’s letting on,”

“You don’t think he had anything to do with it do you?”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be shocked. I’m not saying he did and maybe I’m reading too much into some of the stuff he said . . .”

“Give me a for instance,”

“He said he was glad his brother was dead,”

“That’s not great,”

“No it’s not. And get this, the other night I overheard him on the phone with his mother. He was talking about how he didn’t think he could . . and I quote . . “Live with what I’ve done,” . .”

“Yeah well, Monica is the opposite. I know she’s got her hands in everything that’s happened but I have no way in. She’ll never crack . . the woman is Kevlar,”

“It doesn’t creep you out that you’re sleeping with a possible serial killer?” Amy asked.

“I’m a harmless diversion for her . . a good time when she has an hour to spare in her busy schedule,”

“Poor baby,” Amy laughed as they came together in an embrace. Which slowly turned into a longer embrace . . . which turned into a kiss . . which turned into the pair stripping off enough of their formal wear as was necessary and having at it on a desk. Moans and curses happening in whispered laughter until the door to the showroom opened.

They ducked behind the desk and got dressed as best they could. They were a disheveled sight to see, Dantley’s tie turned sideways and Amy’s hair a brilliant mess as Trudy and her sister moved inside the room before realizing what they had interrupted.

“My . . God! How could you?!” Trudy’s sister Brenda scolded before storming off.

“Trudy . . we’re so sorry . . really,” Dantley apologized as Amy sheepishly nodded her head.

Trudy stood silent for several moments before a smile began to form.

“Mel . . would have loved this,” She said, winking at the two before leaving the room.

Several hours later, Dantley leaned over his porch railing as he smoked the day’s last cigarette. Amy and him had agreed to cool their heels as far as a rekindling of their former love thing went. It was the smart move, at least for now.

He caught sight of Trudy as she returned home and he went downstairs to greet her.

“I’m sorry for walking in on you kids today,” She apologized.

“Trudy, I’m the one who’s sorry . .”

“Nonsense. I told you already, Mel would have wanted this day to be about love and hope so I have to believe he’s laughing his ass off about the whole thing,”

“What about your sister?”

“Brenda was just pissed because she hasn’t had sex in forever,” Trudy replied.

“Thank you,” Dantley said humbly.

“So . . you and Amy?”

“No. We got caught up in all that love and hope Mel was sending out I guess. But we have some things to figure out,”

“You’re a beautiful couple,” Trudy said as she gave Dantley a kiss on the cheek before heading inside.

“Hey Trudy?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind fetching me a blanket? For old time’s sake?” Dantley asked as he took a seat on the porch.

Trudy returned with a blanket, which she handed to Dantley.

“Goodnight Romeo,”

“Goodnight mama,”

Dantley stretched out and lost himself to the stars above.

Spaceship Orion