FINGERS

Last night, Eric and I popped in FINGERS, written & directed by James Toback, starring Harvey Keitel. I remember catching this a long time ago on IFC and liking it all right back then. I like it even more now. Keitel's performance is pretty outrageous and frightening. The story is so over the top---a concert pianist who's also a collector/thug---, but having seen nearly all of Toback's films in the past year, it is pretty tame by comparison. Toback is a terrific filmmaker: he might not have the greatest visual chops, but in terms of sheer intelligence, bravado, and weirdness, he is a class all his own. This past summer, a bunch of us caught the French remake, THE BEAT THAT MY HEART SKIPPED. That too is a very good film and is pretty faithful to the original though in considering the use of location, New York City in the 70s serves the story far better Paris in the 00s. Rent it on Netflix. It's only 90 minutes long.

In other news, it's no suprise that Rove wasn't indicted and that Libby was. He's been charged with a few serious felonies, but surprise surprise, not charged with the biggie of revealing the identity of a covert CIA agent which is what this investigation was originally about, but of course, this being politics, is no longer the case.

LOVE
ALEX