One woman, one man: Good Dick. It all sounds so simple

Good Dick is Glaswegian ex-pat Marianna Palka's writing and directional debut. Released in October of last year, it was a massive hit at Sundance and won Palka 'New Directors Award' at the Edinburgh Film Festival. It was apparently, but not evidently, "shot for a pittance with friends for cast and crew", including Palka (the woman) and longtime boyfriend and the film's co-producer, Jason Ritter (the man). This parallel coupling comes to light so sweetly not only because the "longtime" is nine years (they are 28 and 29 respectively) but because they produce "one of the most fascinating on-screen movie couples in quite some time." Cinematical

Palka's labour of love is a "battle-scarred comedy about the pained romance of pair of social misfits -– he's a homeless video clerk, she's a misanthropic porn addict." Palka describes the film to come out of fear, a fear of being "an inactive observer and opinionated commentator" and subsequent metamorphasis into "an active, courageous participant in my own artistic journey". Mainly because she has this unashamedly Scottish but slidingly American accent and a slightly odd face, Palka's words do not come across as pretentious or at all zany. If anything they help to cement my suspicion that her film is to be appreciated beyond the admonition, by herself, that it is "a modern fairytale". Good Dick seems quirky in that indie sort of way because of the soft focus and that darkened high-contrast in the cinematography, the twee soundtrack that kicks in half-way through the trailer when the characters desires are realised, and that 'controversial' title. But there is such a genuinely subtle nature to her story and her characters that it transcends fantasy and manages to strike a balance between social comment and something just so beautiful and unexpected it shrugs off the indie-edgyness. This may mainly be because of the blurred boundaries of the acting between Palka and Ritter, but rather than being self-indulgent, both maintain their modesty and their honesty about the films ethos.

The "unique courtship" of Good Dick's main characters came out of Palka's frustration with the myth of "the archetypal lover [that] is no longer associated with film." claiming "It's rare to see a male character who's actually loving." She says "I wanted to reintroduce the wonder of sexuality; the titillation of not seeing everything, the romance of a film about real people whose sexiness abounds because of their authenticity. These days sexuality has somehow become associated with all things false, and I think it’s a mirage." Ritter has said "I was pleasantly surprised by this bizarre story about these two characters that were unlike any characters I had ever met." Palka wants to reintroduce the courageousness and the chivalry back into love and the idea of love, and back into film, into writing, making, and distributing film. Suffice to say, the filmmakers are self-distributing.

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Cool Runnings

Unfortunately not a homage to one of the finest Jamaican Bob-sled inspired films to grace the cinema, but some musings on extreme running…

"Every time your foot hits the tarmac, the equivalent of 84 stone (that’s six grown men) thuds through your fibula and tibia. Knee joints grind against each other; the tissue of your meniscus cartilage tears and bleeds internally. For the body to work at its optimum, the temperature of your legs must rise from 37° C to 38° C - making the first five miles torture. As lactic acid accrues in your muscle cells, each stride burns like fire. Blisters throb and burst painfully; toenails bleed; your heart palpitates as the right ventricle weakens with the effort. At mile 12, with your blood sugar levels depleted, you’ll hit ‘the wall’ - as your body is forced to cannibalise your fat reserves to produce energy. If you last until the 20-mile mark, even your mind will start playing tricks on you - the analytical right-hand side of your brain telling your information-gathering left-hand side to just stop. Why don’t you walk?"

Yes! Why don’t you just walk. For god sakes please walk.

Running, even the perhaps limited experience of it I have garnered from my uni gym’s treadmill, can be a cathartic experience. However, after reading this little intro of an article in January’s edition of FHM (an unexpected delight) in which the unnamed writer goes on to interview the "possibly insane" long distance runner Dean Karnazes, to whom this 20-mile opener (or more specifically the 26.2 miles of a marathon) is described as "a mere jog to the corner shop for a Twix" I am less inclined to pursue my dreams of running myself fit around the lauded British countryside, and am more attracted by the idea of copping a lift round the shop for that aforementioned chocolatey snack.

The flight side of the biological human reflex fight or flight, running is second nature though it seems such an unnecessarily painful endurance for the body. This year on 7th April, 38 runners in temperatures as low as -36C completed a marathon in the North Pole, including British man Ted Jackson (see above). I think this man is crazy; the accompanying picture does not discourage this suspicion.

Apart from skeletal and joint damage running can cause the body in regular conditions, especially on hard surfaces, running in extreme temperatures such as the Antarctic puts enormous strain on the heart, presents the possibilities of hypothermia and frostbite, and, without protective goggles, the reflection of the suns ultraviolet rays will effectively cause sunburn to the cornea leading to possible permanent vision loss.

All this sounds invariably like scare-mongering I’m sure, and on the rare occasions I’ll mosey up to the gym I’ll still run the obligatory 20 minutes, and I’ll be feeling the tightening in the backs of my calves, and the burning in my throat, and the banging of my little heart that doesn’t know what its done to deserve this pounding. I used to sprint at school, I chose running over everything else on sportsday, but running like this is not for me. So I’ll come wobbling off that glorified conveyor belt and think if I’m going to be insane for something, it’s not going to be this.

Purpose

Because one of my few but mild passions is writing I have been encouraged, and have eventually willingly, jumped on the blog-wagon. I endeavour the content of my blog to maintain inspiration from these African proverbs, because I think they are often the wisest and most profound;

'Lack of knowledge is darker than night'

'One must talk little and listen much'

'Having a good discussion is like having riches'

I aim in this blog to discuss (albeit with myself) musings, problems, ideas, etc about old things and new things that I like or will later have a discussion with a real person about. To educate myself about the wider ideas in life. I want life to be more exciting than writing on a page, although writing can often be very exciting indeed...