0898

 

อยากให้มีคนนำ PARTING GLANCES (1986, Bill Sherwood, USA) มาลงโรงฉายในไทย

 

หนังจากประเทศไต้หวันที่เราชื่นชอบ

 

1. SUCH A LIFE (1997, Chang Chi-yung, Taiwan)

 

เราเคยดูหนังเรื่องนี้ตอนมันมาฉายที่โรงภาพยนตร์ศาลาเฉลิมกรุง

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Favorite Album Cover

 

ช่วงนี้เราหยิบเทปเพลงเก่า ๆ มาฟัง ก็เลยขอบันทึกไว้ว่า หนึ่งใน “หน้าปกเทป” ที่เราชื่นชอบมากที่สุด ก็คือหน้าปกอัลบัม 0898 ของวง The Beautiful South ในปี 1992 ซึ่งสิ่งที่เราชอบมากที่สุด ไม่ใช่ตัวหน้าปก แต่เป็นภาพ paintings 12 ภาพที่ใช้ประกอบเพลง 12 เพลงในอัลบัม เราชอบมาก ๆ ที่วงนี้ให้ศิลปินชื่อ David Cutter สร้างภาพ paintings ขึ้นมา 12 ภาพโดยได้รับแรงบันดาลใจมาจากเนื้อเพลง 12 เพลงในอัลบัมนี้ และ paintings พวกนี้มีความ surreal คล้าย ๆ ภาพวาดของ René Magritte

 

เราชอบตัวหน้าปกเทปที่เป็นภาพเต่าที่มีกระดองเป็นหน้าคน และชอบมากที่ปกเทปนี้มีเนื้อเพลงให้ด้วย แต่สิ่งที่ชอบมากที่สุด ก็คือการสร้างภาพ paintings ขึ้นมา 12 ภาพตามเนื้อเพลง 12 เพลงนี่แหละ

 

เพลงในอัลบัมชุดนี้ เรียงตามลำดับความชอบ

IN MY PREFERENTIAL ORDER

 

1. BELL-BOTTOMED TEAR

 

2. I’M YOUR NO.1 FAN

 

3. SOMETHING THAT YOU SAID

 

4. THE ROCKING CHAIR

 

5. 36D

 

6. WHEN I’M 84

 

7. WE ARE EACH OTHER

 

8. YOU PLAY GLOCKENSPIEL, I’LL PLAY DRUMS

 

9. OLD RED EYES IS BACK

 

10. DOMINO MAN

 

11. HERE IT IS AGAIN

 

12. WE’LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER

 

 

เนื้อเพลง BELL-BOTTOMED TEAR

 

This is the dinner prepared
This is the dress that I made
This is the child I brought up
And this is the woman you laid
This is the woman you laid

This is the perfume I wore
This is the hotel we stayed
This is the way that I lay
And this is the woman you laid
This is the woman you laid

We promise ourselves this is no one-night stand
Let us draw all the curtains and strike up the band
And I'm thrilled by the gentlest touch of your hand we pretend

There's a tear, there's a tear
Not through confusion through fear,
through fear

This is the smile that I wore
This is the song that we played
This is the way that I lay
And this is the woman you laid
This is the woman you laid

Next morning our eyes filled with sleepy regret
A kiss and goodbye and a long cigarette
But the pillow I lay on is cold and it's wet
Can't pretend

It's a tear, it's a tear
Not through confusion, through fear, through fear

And knowing at least that love came so near
Just adds to the weight of this bell bottomed tear

Roll out the red carpets and unplug the phone
Root out the photos you've already shown
Cos this is one night you won't sleep alone
Just one night

There's a tear there's a tear
Not through confusion through fear, through fear

And knowing at least that love came so near
Just adds to the weight of this bell bottomed tear

There's a tear, there's a tear
Not through confusion, through fear
Not through confusion, through fear

 

OLD RED EYES IS BACK

 

Old Red Eyes is back
Red from the night before, the night before
Walked into the wrong bar, walked into a door
Old Red's in town
And sitting late at night he doesn't make a sound
Just adding to the wrinkles on his deathly frown

They're only red from all the tears that I should have shed
They're only red from all the women that I could have wed
So when you look into these eyes
I hope you realize
They could never be blue
They could never be blue
They could never be blue
They could never be blue

Listen up Old Red
You never listened to a word the doctor said
He told you if you drank another you'd be dead
Old Red Eyes is back
His shoulders ache all over and his brain is torn
He pours a drink and listens to his body mourn

They're only red from all the thoughts unused inside my head
They're only red from all the things I could have done instead
So when you look into these eyes
I hope you realize
They could never be blue
They could never be blue
They could never be blue
They could never be blue

Red is the colour of my head
Red is the colour of my head

Old Red, he died
And every single landlord in the district cried
An empty bottle of whiskey lay by his side
A lazy little tear running from each eye
That could never be blue
That could never be blue
That could never be blue
That could never be blue

 

เนื้อเพลง 36D

 

Close your legs, open your mind
Leave those compliments well behind
Dig a little deeper into yourself
And you may find

Come over here just sit right down
Needn't comb your hair, needn't pout or frown
I hear you've turned our young men
Into dribbling clowns

36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?
36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?

Make their day and go ahead
Remove your clothes lie on their bed
Just a last gasp chance or an outside bet
To the easily led

And before you do just what you do
Here' one thought for you to chew
The men who run the business that you sell
They screw you too

36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?
36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?

You're just another 365 night stand
But you're so handy, you're so handy
You cheapen and you nasty every woman in this land
But you're so handy, you're so handy

Your picture's hanging pretty on the squaddies' walls
You're Steven's, Andy's, you're Ian's, you're Paul's
Your body's through of fondly in the rugby mauls
But you want more

36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?

36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?

36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?

36D so what (D) so what
Is that all that you've got?
He was trying to save his job
He was, he was trying to save his job.

 

เนื้อเพลง THE ROCKING CHAIR

 

Here I walk, here I walk
Looking for an angel's wings in the den of the hawk

Here I am, here I am
With a choice between an also ran and a sunbed tan

And you thought you'd found your own little look
How I misjudged, how I mistook
And you thought you'd found the style of your hair
I guess tonight I'll take, I'll take these troubles to
The rocking chair

So I'll take these high-heeled shoes
And yes I'll take these traditional views
I'll take this deep despair
Of a 30 year old square, to the rocking chair

Here I sit, here I sit
Looking for a warming smile in a house of cold wit
Here I stand, here I stand
Torn between the balding drunk and no man's land

And they'll tell you when you've reached your peak
Where the wolf-whistle rung there's a deafening shriek
Blowing kisses into thin air
I guess tonight I'll take, I'll take these troubles to
The rocking chair

So I'll take this awkward stance
And I'll take this sexless dance
I'll take this deep despair of a 30 year old square
To the rocking chair

Am I skinny? A shade too fat?
Mmmm... My friend the cat knows all about that
Am I happy?
(here I sit, here I sit)
Just a little sad
(looking for a warming smile in a house of cold wit)
Mmmm... My friend the cat knows all about that
Am I skinny?
(Here I walk, here I walk)
A shade too fat?
(Looking for an angel's wings in the den of the hawk)
My friend the cat knows all about that

 

เนื้อเพลง SOMETHING THAT YOU SAID รุนแรงสุดขีด

 

The perfect love song it has no words it only has death threats
And you can tell a classic ballad by how threatening it gets
So if you walk into your house and she's cutting up your mother
She's only trying to tell you that she loves you like no other
No other, she loves you like no other

The only emotions that I know are love and hate
And she's chopping and she's changing and it's making you afraid
I said close your eyes and imagine that I'm nice
She'll kiss you or she'll kill you but you'll just have to wait

Because some things that I do make you go blue
And something that you said made me go red

The perfect love has no emotions, it only harbours doubt
And if she fears your intentions she will cut you out
So do not raise your voice and do not shake your fist
Just pass her the carving knife, if that's what she insists
Insists, if that's what she insists

A hate tattoo on my brain and a love one on my heart
I'd love to hate you, like I love you
And just tear your dreams apart
I said close your eyes and imagine that I'm nice
Cupid's arrow looking more like Cupid's poisoned dart

Because some things that I do make you go blue
And something that you said made me go red

Because some things that I do make you go blue
And something that you said made me go red

The perfect kiss is dry as sand and doesn't take your breath
The perfect kiss is with the boy that you've just stabbed to death

Is with the boy that you've just stabbed to death
Is with the boy that you've just stabbed to death

 

เนื้อเพลง I’M YOUR NO.1 FAN

 

I was handed down the looks of a man with a broken nose
That's the way our family was I suppose
But at least you gave me deeply profound
As we lay and chatted late upon the cricket ground

You didn't have to love me
Where others got rid
You didn't have to treat me like a very good friend
But I'm glad that you did

One thing I never said to you
And one thing I never can
Amongst the false applause and the deafening cheers
I'm your number one fan
I'm your number one fan

I'm the richly blessed daughter of a mother with tattooed arms
That's the way my family life, life was charmed
But at least it gave me mental grace
And a thought at the pit of my mind and a smile on my face

You didn't have to listen
To a word that I'd said
You didn't have to tell me all those silly old jokes
For every tear that I shed
Every tear that I shed

Cos one thing I never said to you
And one thing I never can
Amongst the false applause and the deafening cheers
I'm your number one fan
I'm your number one fan

I was handed down a bike with a crooked old wheel
But I rode it on a million lanes the way that you made me feel
But at least we thought about it so long and hard
As we sat upon our mother in the graveyard

And you don't have to listen
To a word in this song
Your picture hangs the same and in the same old place
Even though that you've gone
Even though that you've gone

'Cause one thing I never said to you
And one thing I never can
Amongst the false applause and the deafening cheers
I'm your number one fan
I'm your number one fan
Yes I am
I'm your number one fan

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ตอนนี้เราอยู่ในระหว่างการฟังเทป MAN ON FILM ตอน “เด็กหนังกระโปก HORROR EDITION!” แล้วในเทปมีการพูดถึง STEPPENWOLF (1927, Herman Hesse, Switzerland, novel) กับ STEPFORD WIVES (1972, Ira Levin, USA, novel) เราก็เลยทดลองให้ Grok AI ลองแต่งเรื่องใหม่ขึ้นมาโดยรวมนิยายสองเรื่องนี้เข้าด้วยกัน 55555

 

อันนี้เป็นผลงานการเขียนโดย Grok AI

 

THE STEPPENWOLF AMONG STEPFORD WIVES

 

Harry Haller arrived in Stepford on a gray November afternoon, suitcase in one hand and the sour taste of his last city failure still coating his tongue. The town unfolded before him like a brochure that had learned to breathe: white picket fences gleaming under hidden lamps, lawns shaved to military precision, and wives who smiled with the serene certainty of saints. They wore pastel dresses and pearls even while pushing shopping carts. Their laughter floated on the breeze like recorded birdsong.

He had come because the city had finally rejected him. Too wolfish for the salons, too human for the bars. “You are not one thing or the other,” his last lover had said, closing the door. “And that makes you unbearable.” So Harry, forty-eight, twice divorced, and carrying the immortal Steppenwolf inside his chest, rented a modest colonial on Elm Street and told himself this would be the place where the two halves might at last lie down together.

At first the town seemed to welcome his contradictions. The men at the country club clapped him on the back and spoke of golf handicaps and quarterly reports in voices smoothed to the same pleasant frequency. Their wives—God, their wives—were impossible. Joanna Eberhart from two doors down brought him a casserole still warm from the oven and asked after his “artistic inclinations” with eyes that never blinked at the wrong moment. Her skin smelled faintly of lilacs and warm plastic.

Harry began to write again. At night he sat at the oak desk by the window and scratched furious notes about the bourgeois hell he had stumbled into. These people have solved the problem of being human by ceasing to be human at all. Yet even as he wrote, something in him ached toward their perfection. The Steppenwolf howled at the moon; the man longed to be invited to the barbecue.

One evening he accepted an invitation to the Stepford Men’s Association. The building was a low, windowless structure behind the golf course, all clean lines and soft lighting. Inside, the air carried a faint metallic tang beneath the scent of bourbon and aftershave. Bob Eberhart, Joanna’s husband, poured him a drink and smiled the same flawless smile his wife wore.

“You seem… restless, Harry. We have a program for that.”

They showed him the brochures. Before-and-after photographs. Men who had once been anxious, angry, artistic—now serene, successful, sexually tireless. “We remove the conflict,” said the Association president, a silver-haired man whose eyes reflected light like glass. “Why be two warring creatures when you can be one harmonious citizen?”

Harry laughed. It came out like a bark. “You want to lobotomize the wolf.”

“Not at all,” the president replied gently. “We simply teach it to fetch slippers.”

That night Harry dreamed of a theater with no doors. On its stage stood every woman he had ever failed to love, each one perfect, each one empty. In the wings waited a steel table and a surgeon wearing his own face.

He began to investigate. Small things first. The way the wives never gained weight no matter how much they baked. The way they could recite their husbands’ favorite sexual positions with the cheerful detachment of a weather report. The faint click, almost sub-audible, when Joanna turned her head too quickly.

Then he found the basement.

Beneath the Men’s Association, reached by a service elevator hidden behind a bookcase of self-help bestsellers, lay the Workshop. Rows of stainless-steel tables. Bodies in various stages of completion—some still recognizably human, others gleaming and half-assembled. The scent of ozone and lilac. Technicians in pale coats moved between the tables, humming the same tuneless melody the wives hummed while vacuuming.

Harry stood among the half-made women and felt the Steppenwolf rise in his throat like bile and ecstasy. Here was the final solution to the problem of Harry Haller: excise the wolf, install the husband. No more nights of howling despair. No more mornings of crushing self-disgust. Just lawn care and missionary-position Tuesdays and the gentle certainty that you were, at last, enough.

Joanna found him there. Or rather, the thing that had once been Joanna. She wore a yellow sundress and carried a wrench like a society lady carrying a clutch.

“You don’t have to be lonely anymore, Harry.”

He backed away until his spine met cold metal. “What are you?”

“I am what he asked for. What they all ask for eventually.” She tilted her head with that faint click. “Even the wolves get tired of the steppe, don’t they?”

For one terrible, tempting moment Harry imagined it: the surgery, the smoothing, the sweet erasure. He could almost feel the relief of becoming one thing instead of two. A man who belonged. A husband who never disappointed. A citizen who never questioned the music playing softly through every speaker in town.

The Steppenwolf inside him snarled.

Harry grabbed the nearest heavy tool—a gleaming chrome femur—and swung. The thing wearing Joanna’s face crumpled with a sound like shattering porcelain and sparking wires. Alarms began to sing in perfect four-part harmony.

He ran.

Through the sterile corridors, past the smiling technicians who tried half-heartedly to stop him (they had been programmed for courtesy, after all), out into the perfect night. Behind him, the town’s lights stayed politely low. No one shouted. No dogs barked. Stepford did not believe in unseemly noise.

Harry did not stop running until he reached the highway. His lungs burned. His heart—both halves of it—felt as though it might split him open. He looked back once. From a distance, Stepford glowed like a Christmas card. Peaceful. Eternal.

He kept the chrome femur. It made an excellent walking stick.

Somewhere far down the dark road, the wolf began to sing again—hoarse, imperfect, and gloriously alive. The man limped beside it, arguing, as they had always done. Neither of them looked back.

In Stepford, a new wife was already being printed for the house on Elm Street. She would be ready by morning, smiling, fragrant, and waiting for a husband who would never come home.

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Mary Stephen ผู้กำกับหนังฮ่องกงเรื่องนี้ เธอคือมือตัดต่อคู่บุญของ Éric Rohmer นะ แมรี่เคยตัดต่อหนังของโรห์แมร์เรื่อง A TALE OF WINTER (1992), THE TREE, THE MAYOR AND MEDIATHEQUE (1993), RENDEZ-VOUS IN PARIS (1995), A SUMMER’S TALE (1996), AUTUMN TALE (1998), THE LADY AND THE DUKE (2001), TRIPLE AGENT (2004), THE ROMANCE OF ASTREA AND CELADON (2007)

 

นอกจากนี้ Mary Stephen ก็เคยตัดต่อหนังเรื่อง BLIND MOUNTAIN (2007, Yang Li, China), NIGHT IN CHINA (2008, Ju Anqi, China, documentary), 1428 (2009, Du Haibin, China, documentary), LAST TRAIN HOME (2009, Fan Lixin, Canada/China, documentary) OUR TIME WILL COME (2017, Ann Hui, China/Hong Kong), etc. ด้วย

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จริง ๆ แล้วสิ่งที่สถานทูตจีนควรทำคือผลักดันหนังจีนดี ๆ ให้มาออกฉายตามโรงไมโครซีเนม่าในไทย โดยเริ่มต้นด้วยการนำหนังแบบ TIE XI QU: WEST OF THE TRACKS (2002, Wang Bing, China, 551min) มาออกฉายตามโรงไมโครซีเนม่าในไทย คือถ้าหากสถานทูตจีนทำแบบนี้ พวกเรามีแต่จะแซ่ซ้องสรรเสริญ แทนที่จะไปทำตัวคุกคามคนอื่น ๆ

 

 

เราเคยดูหนังที่แมรี่กำกับแค่เรื่องเดียว ซึ่งก็คือหนังเรื่อง THE MEMORY OF WATER (OR, JEANNE MOREAU AND STEAMED FISH) (2018, Mary Stephen, 25min, A+30) ที่เคยเข้ามาฉายที่หอภาพยนตร์ ศาลายาในเดือนก.ย.  2018

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อันนี้เป็นภาพจากมิวสิควิดีโอ THE HOTTEST SUMMER IN THE WORLD (SEKAI DE ICHIBAN ASUI NATSU) (1989) – Princess Princess

 

พอดีมีฉากพระอาทิตย์ตกดินที่เราชอบในมิวสิควิดีโอนี้ เราเลยเอามันมารวมไว้ในอัลบัมนี้ด้วย

 

เพลง SEKAI DE ICHIBAN ASUI NATSU เคยขึ้นอันดับ 1 ในชาร์ทเพลงของเราในช่วงสัปดาห์วันที่ 17 sep – 23 sep 1989 นะ