The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

The Art of Cinema #143

Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla
(William Beaudine; 1952)

1 comment :

r.j. said...

Dear Maurice "Morrie" Duke who produced this was the father of my oldest - childhood friend, Alan Duke. I ran into both Morrie and Alan at a West Hollywood restaurant, only months before Mr. Duke's passing, several-years ago. After a pleasant, nostalgic reunion, oddly, the conversation turned toward the making of this production. Morrie told me how honored they all felt to have Lugosi on-board, and how everyone more-or-less deferred to him on the set, giving him the respect they all felt he deserved. Understandably. Pathetic that he ended this way, but hey, it was eatin' money. (Morrie Duke was the nicest man in the world, by the way, as are both his children).