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Images for a Generation Doomed The Films and Career of Gregg Araki provides an interpretive critical history of director Gregg Araki's career trajectory to date. In doing so, Kylo-Patrick R. Hart articulates the most noteworthy attributes of this New Queer Cinema pioneer's trademark post-punk filmmaking style as well as the unique challenges he faces during the third decade of his filmmaking career. ... Read more

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Black-and-white film stills highlight the complete screenplays for The Living End, about life in the AIDS era, and Totally F***ed Up, about six friends struggling with issues of identity and sexuality in the 1990s.15,000 first printing. ... Read more

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Chapters: Sessue Hayakawa, Chris Tashima, Gregg Araki, Philip Kan Gotanda, Kayo Hatta, Lily Mariye, Iwao Takamoto, Steven Okazaki, Rea Tajiri, Jeff Adachi, Cary Joji Fukunaga, Robert A. Nakamura, Renee Tajima-Peña, Richard Sakai, Lane Nishikawa, Paul Mayeda Berges, Desmond Nakano, Jon Moritsugu, Karyn Kusama, Michael Toshiyuki Uno. Source: Wikipedia. Pages: 71. Not illustrated. Free updates online. Purchase includes a free trial membership in the publisher's book club where you can select from more than a million books without charge. Excerpt: Sessue Hayakawa Hayakawa Sessh, June 10, 1889 November 23, 1973) was a Japanese and American Issei (Japanese immigrant) actor who starred in American, Japanese, French, German, and British films. Hayakawa was the first and one of the few Asian actors to find stardom in the United States as well as Europe. Between the mid-1910s and the late 1920s, he was as well known as actors Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks. He was one of the highest paid stars of his time; making $5,000 a week in 1915, and $2 million a year via his own production company during the 1920s. He starred in over 80 movies and has two films in the U.S. National Film Registry. His international stardom transitioned both silent films and talkies. Of his English-language films, Hayakawa is probably best known for his role as Colonel Saito in the film The Bridge on the River Kwai, for which he received a nomination for Academy Award Best Supporting Actor in 1957. In addition to his film acting career, Hayakawa was a theatre actor, film and theatre producer, film director, screenwriter, novelist, martial artist, and an ordained Zen master. Hayakawa was born Kintaro Hayakawa (, Hayakawa Kintar) in Nanaura Village, of Chikura Town, of Minamibos City, in Chiba Prefecture, Japan on June 10, 1889, the second eldest son of the provincial governor. From early on Hayakawa was groomed for a career as a naval officer. However at th...More: http://booksllc.net/?id=845665 ... Read more

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This is nonfiction commentary.Chapters: Smiley Face, Gregg Araki, Mysterious Skin, Nowhere, the Doom Generation, Totally Fucked Up, the Living End, Nowhere: Music From the Gregg Araki Movie. Source: Wikipedia. Pages: 42. Not illustrated. Free updates online. Purchase includes a free trial membership in the publisher's book club where you can select from more than a million books without charge. Excerpt: Smiley Face is a 2007 American/German comedy film written by Dylan Haggerty and directed and co-produced by Gregg Araki. It stars Anna Faris as a young woman who has a series of misadventures after eating a large number of marijuana cupcakes. The supporting cast includes John Krasinski and Adam Brody. This is the ninth feature film directed by Araki. The story describes an eventful day in the life of Jane F (Anna Faris), an unambitious young actress who enjoys smoking pot (marijuana) and lives in a Los Angeles apartment with her nerdy, somewhat disturbing roommate Steve (Danny Masterson). The film begins at the end of the day, as Jane talks to herself while sitting on a Ferris wheel, then flashes back to that morning. In order to increase her enjoyment of a video game, Jane becomes intoxicated by smoking some pot, then she unknowingly consumes a much larger quantity by eating an entire platterful of pot-laced cupcakes baked by her roommate. When she realizes the cupcakes had pot in them, she uses the money for the apartment's utility bill to buy some more pot so she can bake more cupcakes to replace the ones she ate. However, the money is not enough for the amount of pot she needs, so she promises to pay her dealer the rest of the money in Venice that afternoon during the annual hemp festival. What follows is a relentless stream of disasters caused by Jane's intoxication. First, she begins frying the pot to make cupcakes, but it burns when she is distracted by a phone call. Next, she tries to drive to an acting audition, but has ...http://booksllc.net/?id=4401133 ... Read more

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This digital document is an article from The Advocate (The national gay & lesbian newsmagazine), published by Regent Media on February 1, 2009. The length of the article is 1217 words. The page length shown above is based on a typical 300-word page. The article is delivered in HTML format and is available immediately after purchase. You can view it with any web browser.

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Title: Don't slam Sundance; the excitement around this year's Sundance Film Festival has been muted by talk of boycott in response to Mormon efforts to pass Proposition 8. Director and Sundance veteran Gregg Araki explains why he thinks turning your back on the film festival is exactly the wrong approach.(SPECTATOR: Film)
Author: Gregg Araki
Publication: The Advocate (The national gay & lesbian newsmagazine) (Magazine/Journal)
Date: February 1, 2009
Publisher: Regent Media
Issue: 1023Page: 90(2)

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BOMB Issue 41, Fall 1992, featuring: Interviews with Richard Tuttle by Bob Holman, Television by Tod Wizon, Anna Deveare Smith by Thulani Davis, Ran Vawter by Jessica Hagedorn, Jessica Stockholder by Stephen Westfall, Donna Tartt by Jill Eisenstadt, Robbie McCauley by Lynne Tillman, Fabian Marcaccio by Shirley Kaneda, Lillian Lee by Lawrence Chua, Poetry and Architecture by David Shapiro, YoYo by Lynn Geller, Gregg Araki by Lawrence Chua. Fiction & Poetry by Patrick McGrath, Max Blagg, Ursule Molinaro, Hilton Als, Willie Perdomo, Carol Weston, Steven Henry Madoff. Art by Gergory Crane, Pamela Glick, Hunter Reynolds, Carol Jacque, Jimmy Wright, Leonardo Drew. ... Read more

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Up at the League, says a friend, there had been one night a brisk conversational discussion, as to what would happen on the Morrow of the Revolution, finally shading off into a vigorous statement by various friends of their views on the future of the fully-developed new society.

Says our friend: Considering the subject, the discussion was good- tempered; for those present being used to public meetings and after- lecture debates, if they did not listen to each others' opinions (which could scarcely be expected of them), at all events did not always attempt to speak all together, as is the custom of people in ordinary polite society when conversing on a subject which interests them. For the rest, there were six persons present, and consequently six sections of the party were represented, four of which had strong but divergent Anarchist opinions. One of the sections, says our friend, a man whom he knows very well indeed, sat almost silent at the beginning of the discussion, but at last got drawn into it, and finished by roaring out very loud, and damning all the rest for fools; after which befel a period of noise, and then a lull, during which the aforesaid section, having said good-night very amicably, took his way home by himself to a western suburb, using the means of travelling which civilisation has forced upon us like a habit. As he sat in that vapour-bath of hurried and discontented humanity, a carriage of the underground railway, he, like others, stewed discontentedly, while in self-reproachful mood he turned over the many excellent and conclusive arguments which, though they lay at his fingers' ends, he had forgotten in the just past discussion. But this frame of mind he was so used to, that it didn't last him long, and after a brief discomfort, caused by disgust with himself for having lost his temper (which he was also well used to), he found himself musing on the subject-matter of discussion, but still discontentedly and unhappily. "If I could but see a day of it," he said to himself; "if I could but see it!"

As he formed the words, the train stopped at his station, five minutes' walk from his own house, which stood on the banks of the Thames, a little way above an ugly suspension bridge. He went out of the station, still discontented and unhappy, muttering "If I could but see it! if I could but see it!" but had not gone many steps towards the river before (says our friend who tells the story) all that discontent and trouble seemed to slip off him.

It was a beautiful night of early winter, the air just sharp enough to be refreshing after the hot room and the stinking railway carriage. The wind, which had lately turned a point or two north of west, had blown the sky clear of all cloud save a light fleck or two which went swiftly down the heavens. There was a young moon halfway up the sky, and as the home-farer caught sight of it, tangled in the branches of a tall old elm, he could scarce bring to his mind the shabby London suburb where he was, and he felt as if he were in a pleasant country place--pleasanter, indeed, than the deep country was as he had known it.

He came right down to the river-side, and lingered a little, looking over the low wall to note the moonlit river, near upon high water, go swirling and glittering up to Chiswick Eyot: as for the ugly bridge below, he did not notice it or think of it, except when for a moment (says our friend) it struck him that he missed the row of lights down stream. Then he turned to his house door and let himself in; and even as he shut the door to, disappeared all remembrance of that brilliant logic and foresight which had so illuminated the recent discussion; and of the discussion itself there remained no trace, save a vague hope, that was now become a pleasure, for days of peace and rest, and cleanness and smiling goodwill.



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"But why Turkish?" asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes, gazing fixedly at my boots. I was reclining in a cane-backed chair at the moment, and my protruded feet had attracted his ever-active attention.
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A Sherlock Holmes Story.

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