2013: John McCain is snapped playing poker on his phone while the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations meets to debate action against Syria. In his defence McCain later tweets: “That damn hearing was three hours long. That’s twenty-three minutes longer than Zero Dark Thirty.”
1938: Neville Chamberlain’s poker face lets him – and Britain – down. The following day Germany begins its occupation of the Sudetenland.
1990: George Bush Snr mishears an aide and attempts to begin a game of charades with Iran. Adding insult to injury, he then miscounts the number of syllables in ‘Ayatollah Khomeini’.
2003: Determined to avoid the same mistakes as his father, Bush Jnr goes ‘all-in’ sitting at a specially constructed casino-quality card table.
A commemorative pack of playing cards is later produced, ensuring that the prosecution of the search for the upper echelons of the toppled Iraqi regime doesn’t get in the way of anybody’s Texas Hold’em.
Jake-from-the-office revealed last week that the human body effectively replaces itself every seven years, on the basis that by the end of said seven years every cell in your body has been substituted by a new one.
Could it be this, I was quick to ponder, that explains the infamous itch? Could it be that after seven years together we suddenly feel this sudden niggling sensation, brought on by the corporealisation that nothing of the actual human being we first found ourselves enamored with materially remains?
“You know, he’s not playing King Lear. It’s Batman! Certainly within his skill set.”
Cockle-warming to see Matt Damon sticking up for old pal Ben Affleck, but he’s wrong, as this page from Frank Miller’s ‘The Dark Knight Returns’ clearly shows:
How’s that for Lear? Old, weary of power, naked but for the loyalty of a young girl (and the odd faithful steward). Miller’s Batman wrestles with retirement amidst a violent power-struggle, with a cast of players defined not by the moral binary of a tossed coin but the prismatic chaos of a house of cards.
Envisaging a coming-together of Batman and Superman, ‘The Dark Knight Returns’ has been cited by Zack Snyder as “the thing that will help us tell the story” for his forthcoming movie mano-a-mano, having been touted by said director as long as four years ago as a comic he would “love to see [...] made into a movie”.
It would be a new kind of crazy to imagine Snyder attempting as faithful an interpretation as he did for Alan Moore’s WATCHMEN, and the director himself is clear that “we’re not adapting this thing”. Comforting nonetheless to know that he has it in his sights.
More comforting at least than the news that Matt Damon thinks Ben Affleck would make a shit King Lear.
This is more than just a pretty picture. Never saw TWIN PEAKS when it first aired, but we watched the original pilot last night and I more than once thought of THE SHINING. The pace, the poise, a cast of sleepy characters about to be awoken by the intrusion of the inexplicable, against a sweeping backdrop of isolation and elemental encirclement.
The comparison seemed most vivid in one moment, as a camera slowly advances along a quiet school hallway, business as usual in the empty spaces that know nothing of the abduction, and rape, and murder of schoolgirls, and care even less. For Lynch and Kubrick alike, it is the closed doors behind which nothing is happening that hold the greatest promise.