Werner Herzog Reads “Go the F**k to Sleep” in NYC (NSFW)

Sev­er­al weeks back, Go the F**k to Sleep, the irrev­er­ent new chil­dren’s book, gained nation­al atten­tion when pirat­ed PDF copies went viral on the inter­net. But don’t feel sor­ry for the author and illus­tra­tor. The book is now #1 on the Ama­zon best­seller list; Samuel Jack­son has nar­rat­ed the offi­cial audio book (you can prob­a­bly snag a free copy through this Audible.com deal); and Wern­er Her­zog delight­ed fans when he read the (not safe for work) book at the New York Pub­lic Library book par­ty held ear­li­er this week. And, yes, this is the real Wern­er Her­zog — not the imper­son­ator who passed around pop­u­lar read­ings of Curi­ous George and Twas the Night Before Christ­mas on YouTube …

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230 Cultural Icons: A New Collection


Time to roll out a new media col­lec­tion — a big col­lec­tion of Cul­tur­al Icons. Here you will find great writ­ers, daz­zling film­mak­ers and musi­cians, bril­liant philoso­phers and sci­en­tists — fig­ures who have changed our cul­tur­al land­scape through­out the years. You’ll see them in video, or hear their voic­es in audio.

The list cur­rent­ly fea­tures 230 icons, all speak­ing in their own words. The col­lec­tion will inevitably grow as we add more mate­r­i­al, or as you send sug­ges­tions our way. For now, how about we whet your appetite with 10 favorites? Then you can rum­mage through the full col­lec­tion of Cul­tur­al Icons here.

(Note: Down the road, you can access this col­lec­tion by click­ing “Cul­tur­al Icons” in the top nav­i­ga­tion bar.)

Sal­vador Dali Video – Sur­re­al­ist artist appears on â€śWhat’s My Line?” (1952)

John­ny Depp Video – The ver­sa­tile actor reads a let­ter from Gonzo jour­nal­ist Hunter S. Thomp­son.

Anne Frank Video – It is the only known footage of Anne Frank, author of the world’s most famous diary, and it’s now online.

Pat­ti Smith — Video — The â€śgod­moth­er of punk” recalls her friend­ship with artist Robert Map­plethor­pe.

Quentin Taran­ti­no Video – Pulp Fic­tion direc­tor lists his favorites films since 1992.

Leo Tol­stoy – Video – Great footage of the last days of the tow­er­ing Russ­ian nov­el­ist. 1910.

Mark Twain – Video – America’s fabled writer cap­tured on film by Thomas Edi­son in 1909.

Andy Warhol Video – In 1979, Warhol cre­at­ed pub­lic access tele­vi­sion pro­grams. In this episode, he chats with Bian­ca Jag­ger & Steven Spiel­berg.

Tom Waits Video – The raspy singer reads “The Laugh­ing Heart” by Charles Bukows­ki.

Vir­ginia Woolf — Audio — Record­ing comes from a 1937 BBC radio broad­cast. The talk, enti­tled “Crafts­man­ship,” was part of a series called “Words Fail Me.” The only known record­ing of her voice.

Get the rest here. Don’t miss us on Face­book and Twit­ter!

 

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Walt Disney Presents the Super Cartoon Camera (1937)

In 1937, Walt Dis­ney Stu­dios shot Snow White and the Sev­en Dwarfs with a new-fan­gled cam­era, the mul­ti­plane cam­era, which allowed car­toon ani­ma­tion to take a quan­tum leap for­ward. Thanks to this new “super car­toon cam­era,” ani­mat­ed scenes sud­den­ly looked more real­is­tic and three-dimen­sion­al. You only need to watch this pre­sen­ta­tion by Walt Dis­ney him­self (record­ed in 1957) and you’ll see what I mean. Dis­ney shot many of its clas­sic fea­ture films – Pinoc­chioFan­ta­siaBam­bi, and Peter Pan – with the mul­ti­plane cam­era, and it remained in pro­duc­tion right through The Lit­tle Mer­maid, filmed in 1989. Today, only three orig­i­nal Dis­ney mul­ti­plane cam­eras sur­vive.

A big thanks to Sergey for send­ing this vin­tage clip our way. If you see a good piece of open cul­ture, don’t hes­i­tate to send it our way…

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How Walt Dis­ney Car­toons Are Made

Disney’s Oscar-Win­ning Adven­tures in Music

Don­ald Duck Wants You to Pay Your Tax­es (1943)

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Errol Morris and Werner Herzog in Conversation

Bran­deis Uni­ver­si­ty has just post­ed a ter­rif­ic dis­cus­sion between film­mak­ers Wern­er Her­zog (Griz­zly ManThe Cave of For­got­ten Dreams) and Errol Mor­ris (The Fog of War, The Thin Blue Line) from 2007. The two doc­u­men­tary titans shared the stage for over an hour, talk­ing about their long friend­ship, the mak­ing of doc­u­men­taries, and Her­zog’s film Encoun­ters at the End of the World. No shoes were served.

via @jessebdylan

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Wern­er Her­zog and Cor­mac McCarthy Talk Sci­ence and Cul­ture

An Evening with Wern­er Her­zog

“They Were There” — Errol Mor­ris Final­ly Directs a Film for IBM â€¦

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

 

 

“Lift” — A Portrait of Life in a London High Rise

How do you ade­quate­ly por­tray life in a high-rise build­ing? Lon­don film­mak­er Marc Isaacs found a rather uncon­ven­tion­al answer to this ques­tion. He installed him­self inside the lift/elevator of a high rise on the East End of Lon­don. And for ten hours a day, over two months, he would ride up and down with the res­i­dents, with his cam­era point­ing at them. It is fas­ci­nat­ing to see how the res­i­dents react to him being there — some are sus­pi­cious or even hos­tile at the begin­ning. Oth­ers open up about their per­son­al lives and their dai­ly life in the build­ing. And then oth­ers bring him some­thing to eat, a chair to sit down on, or even lit­tle presents. The result is a mov­ing and “qui­et­ly fas­ci­nat­ing med­i­ta­tion on the mun­dan­i­ties of Lon­don life.” Writ­ing about the film, the Times Online put it best: “Isaacs has an astound­ing gift for get­ting peo­ple to open up to him and he uses film the way a skilled artist uses paint. The result is beau­ti­ful, heart­break­ing and pro­found­ly humane.”

Here’s some bonus mate­r­i­al: a review of “Lift” and Isaacs’ two oth­er short doc­u­men­taries “Calais” and “Trav­ellers,” a Sun­day Times arti­cle enti­tled “Marc Isaacs on his doc­u­men­tary art,” and an inter­view with Mark by The Doc­u­men­tary Film­mak­ers Group dfg.

By pro­fes­sion, Matthias Rasch­er teach­es Eng­lish and His­to­ry at a High School in north­ern Bavaria, Ger­many. In his free time he scours the web for good links and posts the best finds on Twit­ter.

Saturday Night Fever: The (Fake) Magazine Story That Started it All

Thir­ty-five years ago today, New York mag­a­zine pub­lished “Trib­al Rights of Sat­ur­day Night,” a beau­ti­ful­ly-writ­ten paean to the danc­ing teens of the city’s bor­oughs. And the sto­ry focused on a work­ing-class dis­co dancer named Vin­cent:

Vin­cent was the very best dancer in Bay Ridge—the ulti­mate Face. He owned four­teen flo­ral shirts, five suits, eight pairs of shoes, three over­coats, and had appeared on Amer­i­can Band­stand. Some­times music peo­ple came out from Man­hat­tan to watch him, and one man who owned a club on the East Side had even offered him a con­tract. A hun­dred dol­lars a week. Just to dance.

“Vin­cent” become the mod­el for Tony Manero, the hero of John Bad­ham’s 1977 dis­co-gan­za Sat­ur­day Night Fever, a hit film which launched the 70’s hottest dance craze and the career of young John Tra­vol­ta. Plus it gave us the best-sell­ing sound­track album of all time and intro­duced the line dance, an exer­cise in ine­bri­at­ed com­mu­nal humil­i­a­tion that would dom­i­nate the dance floors of Amer­i­can wed­ding recep­tions for decades to come.

With all this to its cred­it, per­haps it should­n’t mat­ter that Nik Kohn’s arti­cle was more fic­tion than non-fic­tion, and that “Vin­cent” was, in Kohn’s own words, “com­plete­ly made up, a total fab­ri­ca­tion.” The osten­si­bly con­science-strick­en jour­nal­ist came clean in the Guardian in 1994:

My sto­ry was a fraud, I’d only recent­ly arrived in New York. Far from being steeped in Brook­lyn street life, I hard­ly knew the place. As for Vin­cent, my sto­ry’s hero, he was large­ly inspired by a Shep­herd’s Bush mod whom I’d known in the Six­ties, a one-time king of Gold­hawk Road.” [Ed. Note: The Guardian piece is not avail­able online, but it was quot­ed exten­sive­ly in Char­lie LeDuf­f’s 1996 arti­cle, “Sat­ur­day Night Fever: The Life”]

Mr. Kohn’s own life sto­ry is also worth a movie or two. In 1983, accord­ing to the New York Timeshe was indict­ed on drug traf­fick­ing and con­spir­a­cy counts for the impor­ta­tion of $4 mil­lion worth of Indi­an hero­in. His nar­ra­tive abil­i­ties came to his res­cue once more, this time in the form of a plea-bar­gain in exchange for his tes­ti­mo­ny. His charges were reduced to pro­ba­tion and a $5,000 fine.

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

Chaplin Meets Inception: The Final Speech of The Great Dictator

Char­lie Chap­lin is said to have added his 4 1/2 minute final speech to The Great Dic­ta­tor (1940) only after Hitler’s inva­sion of France. The speech both show­cas­es the actor’s con­sid­er­able dra­mat­ic gifts and makes a pre­scient, elo­quent plea for human decen­cy. So the idea of adding any kind of extra music, espe­cial­ly a com­po­si­tion by the fre­quent­ly bom­bas­tic Hans Zim­mer, might seem like first gild­ing the lily and then dous­ing it with lysol and neon paint. But we think this Zim­mer track from the 2010 sci-fi head trip hit Incep­tion actu­al­ly kin­da works. Give it a look/listen and let us know what you think.

You can find The Great Dic­ta­tor and many oth­er Chap­lin films in our col­lec­tion of Free Movies Online.

via @stevesilberman

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

X‑Men: Science Can Build Them, But Is It Ethical?

Ever since Jack Kir­by and Stan Lee cre­at­ed the very first install­ment of the The Uncan­ny X‑Men for Mar­vel in 1963, the beloved team of mutant super­heroes known as the X‑Men have con­quered almost every medi­um in pop­u­lar cul­ture from tele­vi­sion to video games, to movies and of course com­ic books. Their endur­ing pop­u­lar­i­ty isn’t hard to under­stand: What Amer­i­can teenag­er (redun­dant, we know, since all Amer­i­cans are basi­cal­ly teenagers) could ever say no to an angsty band of telegenic out­siders who are per­pet­u­al­ly reviled and per­se­cut­ed for the very attrib­ut­es that make them supe­ri­or?

But there’s more than nar­cis­sism at play. The core of the X‑Men myth — genet­ic muta­tion — is some­thing sci­en­tists have been learn­ing how to manip­u­late for decades, and now it’s just a mat­ter of time before we know how to build X‑Men of our own. But just as in the case of nuclear bombs, killer virus­es and 3‑D action movies, the fact that we can make them does­n’t mean we should. In the above video from Emory Uni­ver­si­ty, Bioethics pro­fes­sor Paul Root Wolpe explores this moral dilem­ma via the lat­est iter­a­tion of the beloved mutants’ saga: X‑Men: First Class (In the­aters June 3rd, and, praise be to Mendel, NOT in 3‑D).

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

 

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