| Upcoming Changes | Oct. 5th, 2006 @ 10:12 pm |
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Hiya!
I'm back home and finally able to resume my life. Most of September was spent on the island of Susak with Mom, who was recuperating splendidly from her leg injury, and this weekend we finally got back to Zagreb, in preparation for her trip to the States. Actually, I still haven't gotten confirmation that she got there -- what with her bad English and a metal implant in her leg that just might trigger off alarm systems, I hope something hasn't gone badly. But my brother will be there, and he'll surely be able to help if something untoward does indeed happen.
Meanwhile, things are beginning to go back to normal. I had limited internet access on Susak, but frankly, I thought it best to spare you the woes of my inner turmoils at the time. Having decided to lay off active involvement in the movie business and film criticism for a while, I had to do a lot of soul-searching on the ways in which to readjust my -- well, my whole life to the circumstances. Frankly, I didn't come up with any magic answers: all I did was apply myself to my translating chores, and tried to lead a balanced life. It helped, to a point; and after a month of thinking, I also figured out what to do with my online presence.
This journal will undergo a bit of a facelift (I'm not too tech-savvy, so don't expect a beautiful page!), a change of name, and a change of purpose. Once a week, no more, I'll post a short essay on a topic that tickles my fancy. And that'll be basically it -- until I'm comfortable going anywhere within a proverbial ten-foot pole of my personal life. The upshot is that the essays will be the only essays I write: I won't be doing any sneaky Croatian-language film-reviewing and essay-writing on the side, designed for publication in media that noone reads. I'll tackle things from movies and literature to the blogging/forum culture and the more general issues of the world we live in -- a wider scope than the reviewing of your usual blockbuster du jour gives you, and even if noone reads these short pieces (why would you, if I'm so notorious with replying to your replies?), it will provide an outlet for my various ruminations.
Anyway, this is coming as soon as I redesign the page. Meanwhile, Mom just called from Dr. Brother's car -- she's safe and sound in New Jersey, her flight was just slightly delayed. Sunny and I are tremendously happy and relieved to hear the news. And so is Granny, who just celebrated her 84th birthday today, hale, healthy and happy as ever, with the few family members who are still here.
Cheers, all! |
| | Sep. 15th, 2006 @ 07:03 pm |
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Sick as a dog. First it was just general malaise, now I can barely go through my daily translating quote without feeling completely dizzy.
It's not nice being ill on your own, but I'm managing somehow. Have ordered the new/old R2 DVD of Empire Strikes Back to cheer me up, so that's something to look forward to. Of course, only later did I find out that I would've gotten slightly better quality at a slightly lower price if I ordered the NTSC R1 copy, as this new version is sourced from an NTSC transfer. Still, apparently they did a very good job, and the movie looks good even though it's non-anamorphic.
See? I can only spout geekicisms while I'm this woozy. Any more meaningful human contact is just out of the question. I think I might be depressed, although I don't see why. I mean, I kept my job, the White Jazz thing blew over nicely, and I've had some rather happy news and experiences this week. Still, I hope my usual bouncy self reasserts itself in the days to come. It'll make the daily routine of translating/cleaning/shopping/swimming a tad more interesting. And I could probably write -- there's all this pent-up writing inside me and it's bursting to get out. Not that it would ever find an audience here, or be good enough internationally, but it's just something I've been shirking for far too long. I hope it gets released.
Oh, and little Mia actually passed her entrance exam for the acting academy here in Zagreb, in severe competition. Bless her heart, now she's going to become one of those people, and within a year I won't even recognise her. Still, it made her happy, and she deserves a bit of that this year. |
| Thank you! | Sep. 10th, 2006 @ 11:23 pm |
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Guys, I had no idea about the kind of response I'd get to my last post. ![[info]](http://img.greatestjournal.com/userinfo.gif) trailer_spot did send me a couple of incredibly supportive e-mails, but I figured he'd be the only person reading this blog after so much time. I mean, I was away doing other things, neglecting this community, and then I come back and say it was all quite shitty and... yeah, I didn't expect anyone to understand.
But people DO understand. I actually checked my e-mail!
Massimo from Venice: "We're not cross with you, Vlad, we just hope you can stay at our place next year."
Christine from the Wiesbaden festival: "I want you to come next year. We'll cover the airfare and accomodation."
And a few personal things. What, I'm not universally reviled? I think I would react like George Bailey if I had any emotional resources left. No, seriously, guys, I love everything that you wrote, even if I was too messed up to actually open this page and read your comments until tonight.
It's kind of about what happened this week, when I came back to my publishing house, Algoritam, to talk about my next assignments. (I've finished The Golem's Eye, the second book of the Bartimaeus Trilogy, during the latest leg of my vacation.)
The visit turned out into a battle to preserve the integrity of my "White Jazz" translation. It took me three months to finish it, and I handed it in in early 2005. Then the redactor sat on it for FIFTEEN months doing nothing, just waiting to meet me face to face. And she did that this week -- she happened to be there when I walked in, and before I had the time to get introduced, she told me I didn't know English, I shouldn't be allowed to translate books, and I should probably just jump out the window and die.
All this in front of my boss.
Of course, when we sat down and talked about the specific issues she had with my translation, it turned out that she preferred different renditions of US institutional terminology, to make them more consistent with their Croatian counterparts (not that that's a very wise thing to do), and that she wanted the 1950's terminology I employed bumped up to the current slang terms (something I vehemently disagree with). But I kept my cool, and she ended up looking like a total ass. And then I left the office, and she, in a huff, printed out three pages of my translation and doodled all kinds of idiotic changes onto them.
I'm actually taking a sample of her "improvements", along with my originals and the Ellroy original text, to my publisher tomorrow. And we'll see if he really wants to have such a completely falsified lingo in his translation.
Oh, I wish you guys knew Croatian. You have to take my word for the kinds of things that would be totally obvious to someone who speaks the language.
But that's one battle I think I'm gonna win, because I have reasonable arguments on my side. What worries me is that the people like this person have hoarded so much power in this country, infiltrating unis and institutions and even private publishing companies, that people like me are soon going to get completely pushed out. It's the Pula story all over again -- bullying, shouting, bullshiting in the name of bringing everyone under the sway of a humorless, talentless, obstinately Procrustean agenda.
But I'm not letting this floor get out from under me. I need my translating job to make ends meet, and to finance that postgrad study that I've postponed so long.
I'm picking myself up, slowly, and I WILL MAKE THIS GJ WORTH READING FOR MORE THAN MY SELF-PITYING RANTS in the near future. Lylassandra, Isthisthingon, Mardybum, Kaja, Platinum-Cobra, Wumbawoman, all of you -- thank you for the bottom of my heart for your patience, well-wishing, and encouragement. You are better people than I am, but at least you're there to inspire me.
I need to make a "hugging you all" icon soon, or something. |
| Where was I? | Sep. 7th, 2006 @ 01:01 am |
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Well, the past month or so (with interruptions) I was on the island of Susak, a total exotic backwater place far out in the Adriatic, with no cars, no internet, no nothing, just Mom (with healing leg), Kitty Sunny (with healed leg and completely traumatised personality), and sundry inhabitants. I was recuperating from my Pula experience, and translating like a madman, just to catch up on my REAL working obligations.
Still, Sunny refused to be cuddled, petted, or held by me. She hissed and scratched a lot whenever I'd show up. But with Mom? Oh, she's her lapdog -- goes on limpy walks with her, obeys her every word. I suppose my mom has a way with cats, just like Aragorn with horses. And I happen to not have inherited the gift.
(BTW, Mom refers to Sunny as my sister. So if my sister is traumatised, two can play this game.)
Pula? Wasn't good. Outwardly, it was, though. Kinda. Best attendance in years, highest ratings in a decade, yadda whatever. Inwardly, hugely criminal behavior in the top decisionmaking echelon, bullying instead of teamwork, nervous breakdowns galore, incompetence shielded by surliness. Three months of that. And you wonder why I haven't posted anything all this time. To top it all off, I never got paid.
Yeah, I lost around four thousand Euros altogether, and it seems that my Cannes trip will end up being funded out of my own pocket. I said I would give my utmost to dive into Croatian cinema this year, and all I got was a cautionary tale that I'm too old to heed. So right now I'm taking a sabbatical from Croatian cinema, that blighted, godforsaken phenomenon with very few redeeming features.
Also, I think I've been developing a fullblown stress disorder. It took me a while to figure out just how much I was hurt by Cleo's decision to stop talking to me last year; it's just not the same thing when your soulmate is not there for you anymore. And these few days that I've been back, I've shirked the internet completely -- I haven't checked out her LJ, and I even haven't checked out MY OWN EMAIL OMG, just because it's bound to be chock full of angry messages from my Venice roommates.
Dammit. I just totally wasn't able to fund my own trip to Venice this year, even though I had a cheap shared room there, and the movies promised to be excellent. Not with the kind of losses I had to face.
So now my roommates are probably pissed off at me royally. I did try to find someone else to stay in my bed, but failed, and now they'll have to collectively share my expense. (It's the apartment we used to rent at a flat rate, so any new roommate would be welcome, as the cost would be spread among more people.)
I know I'm bad to shirk my own email. It's just that the blows and disappointments have been multiplying to the point where I have a hard time adjusting.
Am probably vastly overreacting. Still, I'm posting here for the first time in umpteen months, so hopefully I'll come back to being my old self soon.
Hugs to all who read this, it will mean a lot. |
| | May. 9th, 2006 @ 12:46 am |
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I know that this journal has been running dreadfully behind, but now it's either going to completely collapse under the weight of real life, or blossom into something richer and stranger. (It'll all depend on my wireless connection, really.)
The thing is, I've just been named the Executive Director of the 53rd Pulafilmfestival, the main Croatian feature fest, held in one of the best-preserved Roman arenas in the world. And now... well, the job is as hectic as it sounds.
Plus, I'm keeping my regular translating employment, plus the film reviewing gigs. And I'll be shuttling between my home city of Zagreb and Pula on an almost daily basis -- the festival is in just over two months' time, and there's just so much work to do! Thankfully I'll have a hotel room at my disposal there until the end of July, plus a free cellphone, and my new laptop will prove extremely handy. I mean, I burned the promo CD of the previous years' photos while waiting for the local equivalent of AAA to come to the rescue of the car which drove me on one of my shuttling trips today. On the shoulder of a highway. How did I ever manage to live without my Vaio?
The promo CD is for the Croatian promo desk at Cannes. Yeah, I didn't know I was going to Cannes. Until today. And now I'll be the official representative of the Croatian cinema.
This is all SO SO SO surreal. All I ever wanted was to be able to make a small, decent film. But, seemingly, I'll be forced to do every other film-related job in this country before the powers-that-be decide to have mercy on little me and my foolish aspirations.
P.S. Cleo, if you ever read this, girl, I'll organise a live reading of the Gladiator m15m in the Arena. Just give me a shout. I miss your RAAAAAs, anyway.
P.P.S. June, if you ever read this, girl, we still need to film the ending of the docu. On Brijuni. Ditto about shouting. Just do it via e-mail.WMS::  exanimate |
| » Among other things, I saw Mission: Impossible III yesterday. |
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And yes, it's everything that I expected it to be. I, who have bought every single season boxset of Alias and Lost out there, who download every single episode of Lost up to and including S.O.S. (yes, I know it was Lostnesday yesterday, I'm working on it), I, who have tooted the horn of J.J. Abrams to my fellow critics and filmmakers who never even heard of the man, after the press screening. I have some mighty high standards to hold J.J. up to, based on his own work and on De Palma's work on the first M:I movie, and yeah, he delivers.
Suffice to say this: noone, not even Greengrass and Liman in their Bourne films, and certainly not any of the Bond directors, have played with the whole spy game genre with such a deft hand and such a profound combination of geeky adoration for source material and intelligent ways to circumvent its trappings since... well, since James Cameron in True Lies, or, more to the point, Alfred Hitchcock in North by Northwest. Of course, the latter film was the original inspiration for this whole genre, but J.J. and his good old Alias writers, Kurtzman and Orci, basically give us a state-of-the-art update of the entire concept for the 21st century. This is the new yardstick movie by which the likes of Casino Royale will be measured: and those guys had better have their shit together if they want to make a difference. J.J. has made the movie Hollywood can only thank whatever pantheon it believes in for, and a movie that kept me on the edge of my seat, my nerves, and my emotional involvement, for the best part of its two hours.
And yes! It has Lawrence Fishburne who Doesn't. Talk. Like. This. And. Actually. Pokes. Fun. At. Himself, and it has Phil Hoffman doing the baddest badass since Lecter (toughhh words here, but I stand by them), and Maggie Q being your best buddy and the gorgeousest thing on the planet in just a few moves... J.J. doesn't have the luxury of building a mythology here, unlike in Alias, but he builds on whatever the first two movies have left him with and just flies with it. He IS the most talented person in Hollywood at the moment, and M:I III is the most assured big-screen debut since... well, I dunno. Star Wars, Jaws and The Terminator were second features. And they weren't sequels to a troubled franchise. J.J. is rescuing Star Trek now, and I can't stress how grateful the Trekkies and the Trekkers must be for that.
J.J. is not a genius, btw: he's just so incredibly good at what he does. Why can't everyone raised and trained in Hollywood be as good as he is?
Okay, enough spoiler-free reviews of the current blockbusters. How about me? Yes! I survived England, even though my ex fiancé turned out to be my worst nightmare of who she could be at this point in my life. I finally met Susanne and Andrew and Chi in person, lovely, adorable people all, and much ale was had, and V for Vendetta was seen at the largest screen in Europe with a view of the Big Ben right outside the exit (even though, yes, Susanne, thank you, the Big Ben is the bell, and the tower is called something or other inane), and William Blake and Henry Fuseli originals were seen, ditto the Sutton Hoo mask, and London in itself was a marvellous, marvellous experience, and, heck, even Devon was nice, I can't help it if Teresa traded me in for a lesser guy, can I.
And why haven't I updated since then? Well, I had to dive headlong into the National Short Film Festival, where I ran the press service and the daily bulletin. Suffice to say that my press conferences were held in a café where I had to literally beg the barman not to grind his espresso beans during the proceedings, and that my bulletin was achieved without a phone line, a printer, an internet connection, Microsoft Word, Adobe InDesign or Quark Express, namely, without any hardware or software actually needed for it. My new laptop, the Sony Vaio VGN-FE11M did a lion's share of the work, but the young crew was indispensable. I met a few 20-year-olds who I'll be proud to know from now on, and they more than made up for any and all of the Festival's failings. And, besides, the short subjects were good -- and my friends won the top awards. Gigo Vitez, the director of the sitcom I assisted with last year, won Best Screenplay for his short film about the lynching of a paedophile priest, and Ivona Juka, an old, old friend, won both the Grand Prix and the Critics' Prize for her docu about a troupe of prison inmates -- filthy thieves and murderers all -- performing the Midsummer Night's Dream, and being their intolerable selves. I still am trying to fathom where Ivona got the strength to actually spend so much time with people of that sort, and how she got them to become so real, ugly and heartbreaking as they are, for her camera. But I've spent a lot of time with her since her win, and she's quite amazing in very many ways.
So much for this fortnight's update. I'm tired as hell and expectant as the seventh heaven, mind you.
May. 4th, 2006 @ 01:10 am
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| » Devon Sightings and Other Horror Stories |
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Okay, so I'm back in London after spending two days in Devon with my ex, Teresa. It was an educational experience. This is what I learned:
-- A 50-minute bus ride in London can actually take 100 minutes, causing you to miss a train;
-- Do not despair, another train will be there shortly. Hopefully run by the same company;
-- Once you arrive in Devon, at the English Riviera, sleeting rain and buffeting winds are to be expected. However, if you're with someone dear to you, you'll gladly walk three miles uphill in that weather, laughing the whole time;
-- Then again, once you get dry, you might realise that in her case "moving on" might mean "has completely forgotten everything of importance that ever happened between you two, including the one moment that you remembered as the most romantic in your entire life";
-- And you will spend time like you would on a holiday, going on walks around the counryside and being relaxed, but you'll also feel quite empty at the end of the day.
So that was this particular experience. Educational, but not entirely pleasant. Then again, I have so many femscars on my heart that I honestly don't think one more will matter in the long run.
Thankfully, one of Teresa's coworkers offered me a place to stay at in London over the next four nights, as I was suddenly left without accomodation after a previous arrangement fell through. So the trip proved to be essential in more ways than one! I'm now at the quite Christmassy North Pole Road in White City, and have just had a few pints with Susanne, and my boss, Neven, who's in town just randomly with his family.
It's good being back in London. Although the English countryside is still the prettiest in the world, bar none...
Apr. 13th, 2006 @ 06:47 pm
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| » England, or Being Too Busy |
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No, seriously, the days are just passing in a whirl. Not helped by the fact that I have my daily quota of translating to do, and also had to write eight pages of film reviews for the Croatian National Radio today. Which means that I missed most of the gorgeous weather in London today, except for my evening meeting with Jonathan Stroud, in which much beer was drunk right behind the National Gallery, which he so gleefully destroyed in Book II of the Bartimaeus Trilogy. Jonathan is so awesome, though. A truly nice, smart, funny man, and someone I liked dearly.
Other highlights: The British Museum (finally!), the Hilde af Klint exhibition (Theosophy!), jumping around the fountain in the Somerset Place, spending a lovely Saturday morning with Carlo, Michael, Liz, Maria and Emma in Borough Market (crowded!), the constant view of the Gherkin Building (penile!), meeting Mr. and Mrs. Susanne (go old LJ friendships!), jetlag (severe!) and fretting about meeting Teresa tomorrow (after five years!).
I still have to write the closing paragraph of that NEVERENDINGLY HUGE radio review, and I'm tired as a cargo elephant and as nervous as a mouse it just inhaled, so wish me luck.
Apr. 11th, 2006 @ 12:32 am
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| » Four hours to go! |
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Apart from bouncing around the place, I've managed to:
-- Borrow a laptop, because my own hasn't arrived to the distributor in time;
-- Charge all my batteries in the lappy, DV camera, digicam, and mobile phone;
-- Print out the reservation code for the flight and shuttlebus service to Victoria Station;
-- Arrange sleeping accomodations for the first week of my stay;
-- Obtain phone numbers of everyone I was originally scheduled to meet;
-- Obtain detailed information on how to get to Paignton on Tuesday;
-- Get a haircut;
-- Swim another kilometer, to spend some of this rampant energy;
-- Arrange a paragliding experience early on Sunday;
-- Watch four documentaries in competition at the festival into which I'm dipping headlong upon return;
-- Exchange about two dozen e-mails with everyone I'm meeting;
-- Cuddle Sunny and Mom lots.
All that's left now is to put the washed and ironed clothes in a bag, and wait for my uncle -- he turned 60 yesterday, and is taking me to the airport after 4 PM! Which means I still have two hours to bounce around the apartment some more, or perhaps talk to my recently-arrived Treebeard Bust...
YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!
Apr. 7th, 2006 @ 01:42 pm
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| » London Update |
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Okay, so I'm leaving in fifty hours. Not a long time! Only half the people I contacted have bothered to respond, but even so my England schedule seems to be quite crowded. It goes basically like this: I'll be in London Saturday, Sunday and Monday, then leave for Devon early on Tuesday, stay there for a day, go to Exeter on Wednesday, to Reading on Thursday morning, and by evening, I should be in London again. And staying there over the Easter weekend and the following Monday.
Most of the time in London is unscheduled, except for a beer date with Jonathan Stroud which still hasn't got a... date. And I'll be checking both this blog and my e-mail (vcsever@yahoo.com) all the time, so feel free to contact me for any reason, including, but not limited to, cups of tea, art films, exhibitions, concerts, church services and clubbing, throughout the time I'll be in London.
Yay!
Apr. 5th, 2006 @ 04:03 pm
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