Long Walk to Freedom

The thing that strikes me about this book is how much Nelson Mandela reminds me of Said. I wonder if Said was modeled after him. It's unbelievable, the way Mandela talks of regarding "common law prisoners" not as enemies but as potential converts. He twists everything so that he can state his political views. Everything is about injustice and discrimination. It's admirable, to some extent. I can see how people respect him. As for me, it's the kind of thing I can't stand. I firmly believe in the Fowler school of politics: if a plantation owner beats his slaves, I'm against him. It's highly individualized.

It's weird. Mandela just seems so damned idealistic, I find myself thinking, "Wait, shouldn't he know better?" He even pulls off a letter-writing campaign a la The Shawshank Redemption. He defends prisoners, just like Said does (although with considerably more success). He even has high blood pressure. I guess this makes it easier to understand Said. It just doesn't make him any more likable.

(no subject)

I spent the afternoon doing homework. Homework for Queer Cinema and Medicine, which is to say watching slashy films (one of which was Longtime Companion, which I've already seen and which quite frankly bores me). The other was The Celluloid Closet, which I found highly entertaining. It was a serious documentary about the evolution of queer cinema, and much of it was spent talking about slashy subtext in early (read: pre-1960s) films. They showed this hilarious clip from The Maltese Falcon. Peter Lorre's character is gay in the novel, but they can't say this in the film. Instead, they have Sam Spade smell perfume on his business card as a hint. Then, when he enters and begins talking, it goes to a medium shot/close up of him fooling around with his cane. It's practically in his mouth. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing in the oh-so-quiet library. And then there was a scene from another film where the two male leads were like "Hey, can I hold your gun?" "Sure, wanna hold mine?" "OK." And then there was Ben-Hur (and they had the screenwriter to substantiate it!)...

And I want this movie. I need it like a junkie needs a hit. I mean, look what the reviewer wrote:

This 1970 Billy Wilder comedy-drama about a major defeat in the career of Sherlock Holmes may have little to do with the legacy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but in its uncut form it happens to be one of the finest films of the decade. Robert Stephens makes a perfectly splendid Holmes, brilliant, sophisticated, and deeply flawed, while Colin Blakely plays Dr. Watson as a drinker and ladies' man with more personality and intelligence than is often granted him by filmmakers. The case (which has some echoes of Doyle's story "The Bruce-Partington Plans") begins with Holmes aiding the distressed Madame Valladon (Geneviève Page), who is searching for her missing husband. The inquiry shifts to Scotland, and despite a stern warning from the hero's brother, Mycroft Holmes (Christopher Lee), Sherlock pursues events that reveal a top-secret government plan. Lush, energetic, funny, gorgeous to look at, and ultimately tragic, the film is layered with Wilder's familiar collision of cynicism and yearning, hope and betrayal, grace and isolation. --Tom Keogh

Y'hear that? Holmes is deeply flawed. Right now I would sell my soul for a copy of this film.