Two months to go before this part of the movie debuts before the public. The “breakdown” section has no proper name in the feature film version, but for this early premiere, on October 11 at Normal’s in Baltimore, it’ll be called “Time Waits for No One.” It’s the name of a song from the score, a musical motif in the movie, and you do need something to put on the flyer. Da Boss said he discovered an easier way of capturing B-roll—something about an adjustable shutter speed and recording a television playing old videotapes—but I had to tell him that we had more than enough footage to work with. What about more layering? No—the export was still hanging. Actually, we weren’t sure, since we hadn’t even tried making a rough mix since the middle of July. Or maybe it was towards the end… but now it’s August and we’re two months out from the premiere and Da Boss has forbidden me from saying how close we are to being finished.
There is a number. It is a rough percentage. An estimate. I will not reveal it. It scares me.
But there’s hope. Every day, more and more striking images and sequences emerge as if out of nowhere, the combination of a random series of alignments and strokes that are both commanded by Da Boss and operated purely by me, working under the principle that chance isn’t necessarily synonymous with coincidence. Most of this movie refutes that idea, at least in its editing: although Da Boss had and has a strong vision (we hate that word, though there really isn’t any better one) for the film, we went about making it as if half-blindfolded, ourselves diffused and blinded as we made our way through footage that was, at that point, years old. What was the sequence of events? We don’t know!
Another night, and Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence by Nagisa Oshima is on the Criterion Channel. They should rename their streaming service and just call the 24/7 feature “the Criterion Channel,” this shit is too confusing—anyway, I was reminded how shocking it is when Bowie’s character is tied up for an execution fairly early on in the movie, and a squadron fires on him—but it’s blanks! “Oh, that’s real funny…” You tell them, Davey! But I loved that man—good musician, a better cook, though. Frankly I don’t remember if he was vegetarian… that would’ve been hard in Berlin, even in the late-1970s… in any case, I was telling Da Boss all of this and he started paying attention to me for once.
“You’re telling me you met David Bowie?” Yes. “You hung out with him? You worked with him?” Yes. My husband, too. “How is that possible?” I asked him how it was possible that he had a talking hen with an intelligence quotient of 196 editing his new feature film. He admitted that he saw a psychic in March 2022 who said that he’d find an editor. She told him something else, but “it was something she probably says to all people like… me…” What, annoying? Da Boss laughed and said Yeah and let me get back to work and all will be well and we’ll have a new export of this section done in the morning (the morning?). He wanted to avoid the subject. Where did he find a psychic in Baltimore, anyway? I have my contacts. I didn’t see him anywhere in my orb… I’ll have to look back…
—Follow Monica Quibbits on Twitter: @MonicaQuibbits