For those hording toilet paper

I was wasting some time during lunch today and was watching Blow Out. I have some screen caps elsewhere but I haven't assembled them yet nor does it really matter too much to me right now. I wrote this bit and wanted to add something to it.

I have only watched Blow Up once. Once! Great movie. I first read about it in Roger Ebert’s Great Movies, a good bit of reading, I must say. While I don’t agree with Ebert on a majority of his reviews on horror movies, I owe him a lot for his influences in watching films from history and incorporating his views and experiences into his writing so that I could sense and understand why each movie was important to him and needed his voice supporting them. I just love films that are capturing this specific point of time when fashion was taking off and the idea that the camera has a voice of its own, speaking in image, sometimes saying a lot, sometimes asking us to reach in and try in our quest for understanding what the author behind the lens had to say.

Sometimes, as is the case with Hemmings in Blow Up, the man behind the camera is so wrapped up in his entitlement as a “great photographer” those working in front of the lens suffer his wrath. This guy has an idea, and there are times when it comes to him as he looks through the lens. Regardless, those “performing” for him are under heavy scrutiny if they are unable to feed his hungry artistic desires. He wants something and expects those that work in front of his camera to deliver that whatever it is. Perhaps the best moments in front of the camera happen by chance or when he least expects it. Sometimes out of a period of nothing does he find his inspiration.

 I wanted to add that despite what I had to say up there about the artist and his vision that this doesn't discount the fact that he's a self-centered douchebag who considers himself some god with a camera, bellowing out his proclamation that the pouty-faced (and obviously really nervous as to make an impression) models should feel privileged to pose for him. I just want to punch this jerk in the face. His skill using the camera has entitled him to reap the pleasures of his reputation and "birds" just love to congregate as close as they can around his presence. Without his talent what would this photographer be? A prick probably running around with the clowns in the city.