I’ve been writing about music for a couple of years now, and have attended countless live shows. Generally I like to take a buddy to this things, as it’s just more fun to have someone to drink with, chat with and sometimes commiserate with, depending on how good/bad the band is. On one particular December night my show buddy wasn’t feeling well and begged off. Left to my own devices, I braved the cold winter night and walked up to Dundas and Bathurst to check out a young group of musicians in a bar I’d never been to before. The venue was the Hard Luck Bar. The band was Courage My Love.
Archive for Emer Schlosser
People who make wide sweeping statements is a pet peeve of mine. One in particular is blankly by state they “don’t do old movies” or “don’t do black and white”. What does that even mean? Deciding one doesn’t like something based on nothing more than colour (or lack there of, in this case) is just plain ignorant. And shining preconceived notions on cinema based on the year it was made is simply ageist. Sadly, I find I come across many who won’t watch anything made before they were born. When John Hughes is the earliest director one can name I feel pangs in my heart. This is not to say I have anything against John Hughes (au contraire, huge fan!), nor do I turn my nose up at modern movies, I love them. It’s just that I love them and then some. For some reasons films from the ‘30s, ‘40s, and ‘50s hold a very special screening room in my heart.
In a time when it was taboo to kiss, I understand the allure of a virile monster sinking sinister teeth deep into the sensitive flesh of the neck to nestle into a pulsing vein and suck the very essence of your life. Sexuality was repressed and here was an escape. But what is repressive about today’s North American society? We have celebs flashing snatches to paparazzi, porn out from behind the beaded curtain in the back of the bygone video store and on cable, sex is a subject splattered in big glossy letters across the majority of magazine covers at grocery checkouts, and just Jersey Shore alone should be enough to demonstrate how uninhibited people have become. And yet, the bloodsuckers are back like fangbusters.
Having too much fun at the opening party for the Female Eye Film Festival at the great Cherry Cola’s (more about that on Monday), I neglected to contact Jim Slotek to fill in for the still on assignment Geoff Pevere this week. Coming to our rescue is good friend, writer, and film maker, Emer Schlosser, who you can read all about at the end of this columns she has so graciously written for us at a moment’s notice. What? A woman who gets martial arts action flicks? Is it possible she also might like the Three Stooges? Here’s the talented (and adorable) Emer Schlosser….