Eclipse 1945: Madonna of the Seven Moons

Mm-hm.

Well, that’s not threatening at all!

I’m enjoying this. It’s a quite weird movie. That is, it’s not clear what this movie is going to be about. I think…? that the movie started with the woman above being raped (by that guy with high wasted pants up there), but then we’re warped to a time twenty years later, and it’s mostly about her daughter.

This one, in the stylish shorts.

So I’m guessing it’s going to be about late repercussions of trauma or something? But told as a frothy comedy?

And what’s happening now?! Has she been taken over by a spirit? She’s suddenly wearing a shawl! Is she Roma now?

YES! IT”S A PSYCHOTIC BREAK!

This movie is awesome.

I love that:

Gainsborough is sometimes criticized as a purveyor of “high toned” tosh for shop girls

I’ve always aspired to be a shop girl.

But it does drag on a bit, doesn’t it?

Madonna of the Seven Moons. Arthur Crabtree. 1945.

This blog post is part of the Eclipse series.

PX97: The Complete Maus

The Complete Maus by Art Spiegelman (173x240mm)

If you’ve following this blog series, you may be asking yourself — “didn’t that guy already talk about Maus? Excessively?” Yes, I have like a lot.

So I don’t quite know why I bought this edition now — I think it just popped up (because of the banning thing) and I may have been thinking that it’d be nice to have a complete hardback edition?

I was also wondering whether they’d spruced it up a bit since the paperback edition back in the early noughties, or perhaps added an introduction by Stan Lee (“again with the mice!”) or had a redesign by Chip Kidd or a new afterword by Michael Chabon. Something horrible like that.

I don’t actually recall any of this — I was really surprised when it showed up in the latest shipment of comics from over the pond.

But since I’ve got it, let’s just take a look at it?

The book is very handsome and sturdy. And, *phew*, no redesign, and absolutely no additional texts. It’s just as devastating a reading experience as ever.

It’s printed on matte paper, and looks really good.

The other complete edition I have, the paperback from 2002, uses shiny, non-absorbent paper, which makes the artwork look really sharp… but also kind of incongruous?

So this may be the best edition of Maus I have, and I’m happy I bought it anyway.

And… I don’t think I’ve got anything further to say about Maus that I haven’t already, so I think I’ll just stop there.

And this is the final post in the Punk Comix mini bonus track section (but I may do further posts in the future if I happen upon some other books from this generation that are interesting).

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.

Eclipse 1966: 愛の渇き

This is an odd movie, even for a Koreyoshi Kurahara movie.

But he’s gotten a new lens! The bits in the margins are no longer in squash-o-vision, so when he pans the camera, it’s no longer nauseating.

OK, the lens is still kinda fishy, but not as extreme as in earlier years.

So, OK, this movie is all about that woman being horny for this guy?

In that case… perhaps… this isn’t the most brilliant casting ever? Because it’s just not quite clear why that is.

But I mean, it’s kind of brilliant anyway. Lovely cinematography.

As pretty as this movie is, it’s a bit on the aimless side? I think I see what they’re going for, but they’re not getting there consistently. Some scenes are great, and some are just… there.

Thirst For Love. Koreyoshi Kuraharai. 1966.

This blog post is part of the Eclipse series.

Eclipse 1964: 黒い太陽

Wow. That’s the most thrilling title sequence ever.

And the characters and situations seem so familiar from Koreyoshi Kurahara’s previous movies, and that… somehow makes it even more exciting? No, I can’t explain it either. It’s actors from The Warped Ones back in the same and in different roles? Or something?

The movie seems even more out of control than the previous ones. He’s using the wonky lenses to bewilder rather than trying to avoid the effects as in earlier movies.

This is earnestly trying to say something about racism, and it lands in… the uncanny valley between “Is this the most offensive movie ever?” or “Is this really brilliant?”

I mean, it’s got both blackface and whiteface.

Black Sun. Koreyoshi Kurahara. 1964.

This blog post is part of the Eclipse series.

PX21: Crashpad

Crashpad by Gary Panter (168x247mm)

I wrote about a different edition of this book here — that was a luxurious edition for book fetishists (I think Panter said), but it included the smaller pamphlet as an insert.

Now Fantagraphics has published it as a standalone standard comic book, so I thought I’d have a look and see whether anything’s much different here…

… but as far as I can tell, it’s pretty much identical.

The only difference is the incidia on the back cover.

Still a good book, though.

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.