I had a lovely time being Nurse Ginger for the weekend! The makeup was so fun to put on. I made thick eyebrows with reckless abandon, tons of eye makeup, and pointy fire engine red lips. I know that the beauty marks are not dead-on compared to the picture, but to be fair you see them move on her face from shot to shot in The Devil's Cleavage.
Never thought about it before, but fake beauty marks are pretty odd in general. It's the one aspect of makeup that is a believable facial feature. That's one face-lie you don't want to get caught up in. It would be cool to really have beauty marks, but I'm okay with not actually having monster eyebrows.
This is what I'm going to be for Halloween: Nurse Ginger from George Kuchar's 1975 film, The Devil's Cleavage. I am aware that 99% of the people I encounter with this costume will have no idea what I am specifically (unless people actually read this blog entry). However, Halloween is about enjoying yourself and being someone different for a night. It doesn't really matter if people know what my character is, I just know it will still creep people out. And it's not me, so that's step one of having a great costume. Oh no, I'm not a sexy nurse, not a zombie nurse, just a nurse with severe makeup that carries a bottle of fake vomit with her. You know.
Me on 10/31/11
Halloween is also about respecting the dead. Director George Kuchar passed away on September 6th of this year. And it was just this year that my love for the films of him and his brother Mike was ignited. After viewing the documentary, It Came From Kuchar, I realized I had seen one of his movies in a film class: Hold Me While I'm Naked. The film really touched me in it's pre-Water's campyness, but I never knew about the other films until recently. George was teaching film at San Francisco Art Institute and still making awesomely weird movies until his death.
So this year, in honor of a great film-maker/makeup artist, and a weird character, I will try to do Ginger justice. Stay tuned to see the finished product.
Absinthe was hugely popular until right around WWI, when it became illegal. Before then, it was mysterious in it's qualities, and widely available. Then, bootleggers began making it on their own, and it continued to be mysterious underground.
A major discussion in the documentary,Absinthe (2010), is how will the drink change since absinthe has become legal again? Most of the persons interviewed said that absinthe would never be the same after legalization. The number of bootleggers during the prohibition created many different versions of absinthe that will be out-shone by mainstream competitors. They reason that the legalization will lead to only a couple major companies making the absinthe, taking away the mystery, the variety, and most importantly the "charm."
It's like the simple ecological concept, that taking the diversity out of our environments will ultimately destroy them. If we take absinthe out of the underground who knows how a major corporation will alter it for mainstream consumption. Mainly it just wont be as much fun.
However, in the film there were a few supporters of the legalization of absinthe, and very rationally, their point is that the legalization would officially discredit those making a bottled green slurry with the name absinthe on it. Standards will be established to make a true absinthe that will give you an authentic experience, and will not make you go blind. That might out-way the fun of drinking something illegal and unchecked.
Why Aleister Crowley is the main image of this video is unclear, but it certainly caught my attention.
It's the conundrum of wanting to keep things the way they used to be, but being very particular of how far back your "used to be" is. Ironically, the way it was before the prohibition seems to not be in the forefront of their minds. The absinthe scene of 1800's Paris sounds like the kind of everyday life hipsters wish existed: artists, poets, scholars, bohemians and aristocrats alike getting wasted together nearly everyday from 5-7 (the "green hour" as it was called). Instead these people seem to be pro prohibition just so they can stay underground. The bootleggers worked too hard, the clandestine drinkers worked too hard to find the bootleggers, to have it come so easy for everyone to enjoy.
I don't think (to the delight of people who care about things being too mainstream) that absinthe could ever be as big as it was at it's inception, even after legalization. But if we all had access to the real, pure thing, you have to admit it would be sweet. [Insert cheesy metaphorical quip involving the sugar cube used in absinthe preparation]
The original absinthe craze sounds like nothing American's have ever truly experienced in alcoholic mania. One could say Four Loko was like absinthe, in that it was an extremely potent and infamous alcoholic beverage that was like nothing else out there. However, it only lasted about a year before it was banned, and I don't believe it was ever sighted as a catalyst for any great paintings or poetry, or converging of classes.
As for the documentary it self, it's pretty bare-bones, but informative. The only real complaint I have is that at a certain part, someone said commonly bootlegged versions of absinthe had copper compounds to make it green, which can explain commonly reported symptoms of absinthe drinkers at the time. However, it is never said what the symptoms of copper poisoning are. It was an easy Google fix, but it would have been more compelling to hear it from those interviewed. Clocking in at only 69 min, Absinthe is short and sweet... (much like the life of a sugar cube over a glass of absinthe?)
