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Wednesday, Aug 16, 2006


Bruno Kirby’s career was made up of mostly supporting roles. He was almost never the lead, nor did he ever have to carry an entire motion picture on his spry Italian shoulders. Instead, he was the perfect partner, a flashy fireplug who used his passion and his presence to match up flawlessly with his usually more famous co-stars. His death on 14, August 2006 at a mere 57 years of age (after a battle with leukemia) marked the end of a still strong, still vital acting career. Easily moving between crazy comedy and intense drama, Kirby’s credits were varied, and always interesting. It argued for his versatility as a performer, as well as his no nonsense upbringing – a philosophy that emphasized the work, not the size of the dressing room or the number of lines.


Born 28 April, 1949 in New York City, Bruno Giovanni Quidaciolu Jr. was the son of famed character actor Bruce Kirby. His childhood on the outskirts of the greatest city in the world left a lasting impression on both his personality and his voice. Gifted with that hilarious honk that highlighted a certain ethnicity and spirit, Bruno would parlay his heritage into an amazingly diverse creative canon. Starting out while in his early 20’s Bruno made notable appearances in TV shows like MASH, and in movies like Cinderella Liberty. While on the set of the 1972 sitcom The Super, Bruno would become friends with co-star Richard S. Costello. It was an auspicious combination, as the rotund Italian American character actor was just about to become famous as Clemenza, Vito Corleone’s right hand muscle in that year’s masterpiece The Godfather. When Francis Ford Coppola was looking for someone to play the larger than life figure as a young man, thoughts immediately turned to Bruno, and soon, the relative novice found himself working alongside eventual Oscar winner (for his supporting work as the young Vito) Robert DeNiro in the equally epic sequel.


It was a sign of good things to come. Bruno parlayed the part into a series of sensational supporting turns. He was Marty Lewis, the fictitious version of Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner opposite Bill Murray in Where the Buffalo Roam (1980). He was Albert Brooks’ best friend in Modern Romance (1981) and was extremely memorable as the Frank Sinatra loving chauffer mandated to drive the unappreciative Spinal Tap around in that famous 1984 mockumentary. As he got older, he started splitting his time between comedy, and more serious, dramatic fare. He was the by the book antagonist to Robin Williams free-spirited DJ in Good Morning, Vietnam, and costarred as the cynical pal of Billy Crystal in two extremely popular mainstream comedies – 1989’s When Harry Met Sally and 1991’s City Slickers. He even reconnected with his Godfather roots, starring opposite the legendary Marlon Brando in the mobster spoof The Freshman (1990).


Throughout the ‘90s, Bruno continued to excel in parts that combined his Mediterranean heritage with his genial, almost goofy, good nature. From Nicky (opposite another Corleone, Al Pacino) in Donnie Brasco to a pair of performances as leading attorneys in two of the nation’s most famous landmark trials - he was Barry Sheck of OJ fame in 2000’s American Tragedy, and Vince Bugliosi in the 2004 remake of Helter Skelter  - he remained ever sharp, always careful to be both true and interpretive of the people he was playing. Most recently, he was part of the exciting ensemble that makes Entourage one of HBO’s most popular satiric series. Unfortunately, he was already aware of his circumstances. When he learned of his illness a few months ago, Bruno swore he would battle until the end. Sadly, the conclusion came far too soon for such a tremendously talented man. While his career may have been made up of moments, it will be the overall oeuvre that forever defines the amazing Bruno Kirby.


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Wednesday, Aug 16, 2006

Sometimes stories speak for themselves: RIAA Wants to Depose Dead Defendant’s Children; But Will Allow them 60 Days to Grieve.  But there is a happy ending (such as it is): RIAA’s “abundance of sensitivity” ends harassment of grieving family.  Not that their change of ‘heart’ wipes the record clean for the RIAA- they’re just aware of how bad PR can hurt them.  You know that they’d still be on the family’s case of news of this hadn’t leaked out.  Though it’s a lot to read, the Slashdot comments on this story are worth pouring over, especially some readers’ recommendations about how to show your displeasure with the RIAA (i.e. tell them directly, boycott their clients).


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Wednesday, Aug 16, 2006
by PopMatters Staff
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Wednesday, Aug 16, 2006

I always thought satellite radio was a technology equivelant of Colecovision, something that would be obsolete before it ever gets real momentum behind it. So this WSJ report on the industry’s doldrums fit nicely with my worldview: “Last year, XM lost $667 million, and Sirius lost $863 million. And Sirius is facing a potential exodus of subscribers as a clutch of promotional one-year trials soon comes to an end.” Satellite radio seems like an intermediate stage before a real breakthrough that everyone can see coming, which is having portable Internet access sustained by a cellular-phone-type network—why have satellite radio when you can have Internet radio?


That the satellite radio firms basically have to give away subscriptions through a variety of free-trial deals, and the fact that most people won’t subscribe even when the hardware is built right in to their new cars tells you something about the inherent consumer indifference to this technology. There’s just no real demand for it. Perhaps this is because everyone senses that a cell phone will likely be able to deliver everything a satellite radio feed can soon enough. Also, it seems a lousy way to get music. Who needs satellite radio’s multiplicity of channels when you can download a gazillion songs and plug an iPod into your car stereo? Wouldn’t most people rather have 60 GB of their own music to play in whatever sequence they desire rather than a subscription to music someone else plays for you? I don’t think most music consumers are willing to let go of the idea of songs a product one buys and owns; satellite radio and Napster’s subscription service and other similar concepts try to sell people on renting music in general—all of it, whatever music has been recorded. But people don’t want all of it so much as they want to own a small piece of it and tend that small piece with care, curating their own musical museum of selfhood. The sort of music consumer who is not interested in the minutia of managing playlists and so on is probably indifferent to the added spectrum of sounds satellite radio affords and is content with FM. These customers need to be sold on the fact that it is commercial free, but I suspect that they probably don’t mind commercials—they pace one’s listening experience, are probably found to be amusing in some cases,  and at any rate spur one to act, to start scanning for something else. Commercial-free radio can start to seem like Muzak, someone else’s sound design intended to program my moods. Of course, everybody I know who has satellite radio just uses it to listen to Howard Stern. But others just download Stern on Bit Torrent and listen to his shows at their leisure on their iPods. How far can a cult of personality really carry a technology?


More than anything, though, I think radio is a local technology (traffic reports, weather, news, school closings, local talk radio, etc.)—once it ceases to be local, responsive to local events—once it no longer includes your theoretical participation—it is easily replaced by prepackaged entertainment you can actually own.


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Tuesday, Aug 15, 2006

From the User’s Guide to Indian Films Intro


The movies described in the User’s Guide are the hit list of Indian cinema. They’re not only the best films of all time, but they give you the best glimpse of what Indians enjoy, their sense of tragedy and comedy, their aspirations, their regrets. In short, it’s a visual chronicle of Indian society in the last fifty years. Enjoy.



Week 3: Mother India
1957, Color, Hindi.
Dir: Mehboob Khan


Mother India is Pather Panchali’s commercial counterpart: a sweeping epic about a poor, beautiful village woman struggling to raise her crops and feed her family. A box-office blockbuster in its day. Mother India is a mélange of Sounder and The Grapes of Wrath. The movie, an ode to the hordes of rural laborers who make up the backbone of the economy, was a matter of pride for post-Independence-Nehru India and became the first Indian film to be nominated for an Academy Award. The film’s socialist director, Mehboob Khan, used the narrative as a platform to advocate the central beliefs of his party. Forty years later, in an India fat with success, the leftist ideals of Mother India seem dated. But only ten years before its release, the partition of Pakistan sparked a series of devastating communal riots across the subcontinent, leading to the murder of thousands of Hindus and Muslims. It seemed that in a country obsessed with belief, the only way for its disparate peoples to survive alongside one another was without religion - organized religion, that is.  Faith as a primal vehicle for life and ritual is very much alive in Mother India, and the visual symbols and references to Hindu mythology and practice is what gives the film its raw, emotional power: the eternal wheel of life echoed in the roll of the plough from the beleaguered oxen, as well as the film’s title, the nation embodied as Mother, the pagan sacred goddess of life and death, articulated with quivering intensity by the film’s radiant star, Nargis.


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