Tuesday, March 31, 2015

The Mark of Zorro movie

The early thirties and forties came up with a lot of comic book type heroes and villains, but by far one of the best was the Zorro series, which went  on to become a Disney TV series, and later in these later years a great series of movies starring Antonio Banderas as Zorro.

Enjoy

John

from Wikipedia

The Mark of Zorro is a 1940 American adventure film directed by Rouben Mamoulian and produced by Darryl F. Zanuck for 20th Century Fox. The action movie stars Tyrone Power as Don Diego Vega (Zorro), Linda Darnell as his love interest, and Basil Rathbone as the villain. The cast also includes Gale Sondergaard as the scheming wife of the corrupt local governor, Eugene Pallette as Zorro's local friar, and J. Edward Bromberg as the governor, along with Montagu Love, Janet Beecher, Robert Lowery, and Chris-Pin Martin. Diego's mute servant, Bernardo is absent in this film adaptation.
The film was Nominated for Academy Award for the Best original score in the 1941 Academy Awards. In 2009, it was named to the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress for being "culturally, historically or aesthetically" significant and will be preserved for all time.[3]

Plot[edit]

The film is based on the story The Curse of Capistrano written by Johnston McCulley, originally published in 1919, which introduced the masked hero Zorro. The story is set in Southern California during the early 19th century. The plot deals with Don Diego Vega (Tyrone Power), the apparently foppish son of wealthy ranchero Don Alejandro Vega (Montagu Love), who returns to California after his education in Spain. He is horrified at the way the common people are mistreated by Alcalde Luis Quintero (J. Edward Bromberg). Don Diego adopts the guise of El Zorro ("the fox"), a masked outlaw who becomes the defender of the common people. Meanwhile, he romances the Alcalde's beautiful niece, Lolita (Linda Darnell). He simultaneously flirts with the Alcalde's wife Inez (Gale Sondergaard), filling her head with tales ofMadrid fashion and culture and raising her desire to move there with her corrupt husband. In both his guises, Don Diego has to contend with the governor's ablest henchman, the malevolent Captain Esteban Pasquale (Basil Rathbone).

Original version[edit]

The movie is a remake of the lavish 1920 smash hit silent film starring Douglas Fairbanks, Sr. and Noah Beery, Sr.. The 1920 film introduced Zorro's iconic all-black costume, subsequently incorporated into Johnston McCulley's later Zorro stories. The 1920 film was the first in a popular array of swashbuckler action pictures starring the acrobatic Fairbanks, who had previously appeared mainly in comedies.

Cast[edit]

Batman connection[edit]

In the DC Comics continuity it is established that The Mark of Zorro was the film which the young Bruce Wayne had seen with his parents at the movie theater, moments before they were killed in front of his eyes by an armed thug. Zorro is often portrayed as Bruce's childhood hero and an influence on his Batman persona. There are discrepancies regarding which version Bruce saw: The Dark Knight Returns claims it was the Tyrone Power version, whereas a story by Alan Grant claimed it to be the silent Douglas Fairbanks original. Bob Kane was himself inspired by Fairbanks' Zorro, including similarities in costumes, the "Bat Cave" and Zorro's cave, and unexpected secret identities, especially since the Batman character predates the Tyrone Power remake by a year. The posters for The Mark of Zorro and the 1981 film Excalibur were used for a scene in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice,[4]
In the animated series Justice League Unlimited, a flashback of the fateful night establishes that for DCAU continuity Bruce and his parents were attending The Mark of Zorro but does not indicate which version. In earlier episodes of Batman: The Animated Series, the fictional character Gray Ghost—a pulp fiction hero inspired by The Shadow—is the inspiration to young Bruce Wayne.

Home media[edit]

The film has been released twice on DVD. The first was released on October 7, 2003 and featured the movie in its original black-and-white, as part of 20th Century Fox Studio ClassicsCollection. The second was released on October 18, 2005 as a Special Edition, and featured both a new restored black-and-white version and a colorized one, prepared by Legend Films. Both versions contain "Tyrone Power: The Last Idol" as seen on Biography on the A&E Network, and a commentary by film critic Richard Schickel.

The Green Hornet with Bruce Lee, Episode 2


Yogi of High Hopes "A Journey to the Center of the Earth Story" by John Pirillo



Yogi of High Hopes

"A Journey to the Center of the Earth Story"


Rush gazed at the cyclopic stones that hemmed them in on their journey to salvation or damnation. Beside him sat Everett, looking as worn and beat-up as he probably did. Ahead and to the side stood Rowlf.

Our original mission to find the source of the The Big One, a gigantic earthquake that killed billions and uprooted our civilization forever. One that had devastated most of the upper earth, sending it to hell in a hand basket, handing us a lot of sour grapes to eat.

We had pried a hot rock from the lava river before us and slid it back into the curve away from all the dreaded heat, allowing ourselves a few minutes, maybe hours of warm comfort to while away time, which we seemed to have more than our share of as we sought a way back home, or at least to the source of the destruction. We were hoping at that time to at the very least get home, but as the miles wore on and the days and nights, our hope began to falter, so we took times like these to bolster our courage and give us enough stamina to face another day deep beneath the earth we once lived upon.
So I had begun a short story about my younger, more reckless days.

I was young then, maybe even younger than my years, or perhaps older. You tell me. I looked out at my friends through bloodshot eyes, and they looked back at me with the same. We were getting loaded. High on pot. It was the sixties. All my college friends were trying it, except for a few who didn't inhale. 

I had Beatle length hair and a John Lennon beard that made me look like something out of the Yellow Submarine, a popular cult film that the Beatles lent songs to. "We all love a Yellow Submarine."
Love, not live. 

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked at my friends there, all zoned out, listening to the Rolling Stones and "I can't get no satisfaction."

Neither could I, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Then like a might god of the past a very tall friend of ours stepped into our living room, his face blazing with a smile that told us he was stoned. But as it turns out, he wasn't. 

I've just met this crazy guru." He told us.

He sat down and enthralled us with a tale of a fat old man with long gray hair who closed his eyes and floated about three feet off the carpet he had been seated on in a lotus position.

"No freaking way!" My best friend, Henry, snapped. 

He didn't disbelieve him; he just didn't think it was possible to be that cool.

We all got up and said to our friend, whose name was Dig. "Show us the way, brother."

He took us in his psychedelic van to a home on the fringes of Sacramento, hidden by tall Walnut trees and spreading acres of brush and flowers. We were all excited. Not one of us was stoned then. Dig had told us it wasn't cool to learn the mediation this man taught if we were stoned, so we figured it made him high, what did we have to lose, and it cost nothing. Or so we thought at the time.

"Here we are!" Dig announced as he damped his headlights, and got out.

We all piled out and followed him to a door with a huge OM symbol on it.

"Cool." Henry cooed.

I didn't know. Why did he have to advertise that way?

I followed Dig inside and we walked into a huge room with an older man, a long gray beard and dreadlocks, seated in a lotus position speaking to a rapt crowd of Hippies and Straights.

"Within each of us is something so powerful, so simple that if we but acknowledge it, but tap into it, we become like gods."

Then he began to float up off the floor.

Everyone gasped, including me, that is until I saw for a brief moment the pneumatic device that was pushing his body upwards, and then his long white dhoti fell back into place, hiding the metal thrusting him upwards. He smiled at everyone in a benign sort of way as they began putting dollar bills, fives, tens and twenties into a bowl that was in front of where he sat. 

He nodded his head, as if doling out blessings to each of them as they did so. "God be with you." He said to each, as they raised, dumped money in, and then headed for the door. 

When the last had left, Dig introduced us.

When my turn came he said. "This is Russ. He's an adventurer. I think this is the kind of adventure he needs more than climbing trees and mountains."

I disagreed with those words, but respected him enough to mum myself, even though I was burning like a ticking bomb inside myself about the fraud I had seen.

The old yogi descended to the floor, then nodded to us each to sit in front of him. I remained standing. 

"I can see by your faces that all of you seek something greater than yourselves." He told us with a smile that would warm up an iceberg.

I wasn't buying it.

I edged closer to him as he spoke. He didn't notice, he was so caught up in his dialogue.

"We are all divine creatures, waiting but for the right touch to ignite our souls and send us to our flaming glory with God, the Invisible Father."

I didn't disbelieve a word he said, only his motives. I had been aware for some time that the drug scene was a dead end, I just didn't want to admit it to myself yet. I didn't want to lose my friends, which I knew I would. I knew that if I left and came back thirty years later, they would still be smoking grass and saying, "Cool Man."

So I did the only thing a rational young man could do, who was impulsive, sometime hot headed and adventurous. 

Rush kicked at the small heated stone in front of him and Everett. Rowlf stood behind them, his insectile eyes hooded by the thick carapace eyelids that veiled them, but listening to the tale as well.
"So what happened next?" Everett asked expectantly. They used their down time to regale each other with tales of their past and both were becoming more and more close as they did so, realizing how much they had both gone through in their struggle to grow up as they saw it into human beings worthy of the status of being human.

"Wried!. Rowlf snapped.

Rush looked at his tall friend, thankful to have the powerful being as a friend. "No. Not died. Exposed."

"Rowlf nots undestand."

"I was a naughty boy. I peeked."

"Pweeked?"

"I plucked the hem of the dhoti and threw it up, exposing the platform the yogi sat on. He was so flustered that I had done so that he accidentally activated it and shot up towards the ceiling even higher than before."

Everett burst into laughter, as did Rowlf."

Rush grinned. "I was exiled by Dig for doing that. None of my friends liked me after that."

"That's kind of harsh." Everett said.

"Yeah. But not because I exposed the yogi, but because I quite doing drugs."

Rush grinned. "I realized on that night that you don't need drugs or alcohol or anything else to be happy."

"Sounds like the end to a Disney fairy tale." Everett pointed out.

"Yeah, except in this case, there were drugs."

"Yeah. There's that."

"Twat shish dwugs?" Rowlf asked, his face turned askance in curiosity.

"You don't want to know." Rush answered.

"Dwo." Rowlf answered.

Rush sighed. "Very well. They are chemicals that people use to make themselves feel like someone else."

Rowlf laughed.

Rush gave him a surprised look.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Rowlf fweel wike shomeone else shonely twin say eat him." He said, then laughed again even more so.

Rush smiled. "Then let's hope no one ever does eat you."

Rowlf hiked himself to his full height and pounded his chest. "Eat dem fwirst!"

He laughed and laughed.

Everett and I looked at each other.

Monday, March 30, 2015

A few abstract textures and fractal designs I made.







Baffled and Bedazzled, Murder Yet Again "A James Moriarity Story." by John Pirillo



Baffled and Bedazzled, Murder Yet Again
"A James Moriarity Story."

Same old story. Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl eats boy. Period.

James scratched his mop of hair thoughtfully a moment with the tip of his pen, probably adding some ink to the stains already on his scalp, but at that moment he didn't care. A person had died tragically and he needed to record it before it slept from his memory. 

August 21, an auspicious day for Kenneth Anger, a young man dead set on conquering the world with his cleverness and his ability to swift talk any young woman into his inner sanctum. He prided himself on his looks, his sharp mind, and his nose for smelling out the young pretties that he hoped to carve away from their happy niche in life, and add to his list of conquests. Little did he know at that time that as he was carving one niche, someone else was equally as dead set on carving another kind of niche.

"What a beautiful day!" He exclaimed, casting his thick bedcover, which his grandmother had knit for him as a child and he had kept as his good luck for many years now, not just for warmth. He slipped his slender, well proportioned feet into some handmade slippers that had been imported from the Chinas, then slogged his way into the bathroom of the flat he shared with his Jewish roommate, Naier God, an industrious young man, shy and reclusive, who had never dated a single young woman yet, as he neared the ripe old age of eighteen.

"Naier!" He called out.

"Mister Anger?" Came the return reply from the bathroom. 

"I need to avail myself of our potty at once."

"Yes, Mister Anger."

Naier piled out of the bathroom, slipping on his tattered pants, which he had purchased from a second hand street down Augur Way. A tiny shop that specialized on reselling old clothing and other old things.

He and Naier had both found something they desired there. Naier the pants, and he a lucky charm. It was a young woman, the top half of her body emerged from a body of water, the bottom half invisible. Her face had an inviting smile.

"Were I to meet this one, I would surely fall in love." Kenneth had exclaimed as he purchased the charm.

The saleswoman, an elderly woman of cracked face and sharp eyes, had given him a piercing stare. 
"Be careful what you wish for, young man."

"Oh, I am. I am." He replied tartly, unmindful of the warning tone of her voice.

She had given him another look, then made a sound of disgust, and handed over the charm as he handed over the cash.

He finished scrubbing his body, then emptied himself, slid into his natty suit he had purchased uptown, putting on the top hat that all gentlemen of station wore, and headed for the flat's door.

Naier had followed him. "When will you return?"

"When I'm through shopping."

Naier cringed. He knew what that meant and found it instantly distasteful. So much so, that he didn't hide his feelings about it.

Kenneth clapped him hard on the back, causing Naier to fall back in alarm. "Naier, you really do need to get our more." Then he had clasped the door handle and exited the flat, heading for the docks. He found the women who went there to be easy to talk to, and also...he grinned...more willing.

He reached the docks a bit later than planned, having had to take a more circuitous route to the Wet Bar and Grill, a pub for the locals there, where a young man of his age would be accepted, even if a bit offsetting to the native sailors who frequented the place.

He had settled into his usual corner at that time and noticed an older gentleman seated there. The man was gigantic. He easily towered over all the men in the place, had a strong face, if somewhat rounded, and earnest eyes that seemed to look into a person's soul.

"Good morning, sir." He had greeted the man, settling opposite him.

"And to you, young man." The stranger had replied.

"I hear the breakfast here is to die for." He had told the older man, who looked startled for a moment, then laid aside his mug of tea to rise. 

"Pray that not be the case."  The older man had told him. The older man had been James, though young Kenneth knew it not at that time and never would.

James went to another booth and sat down there, and began furiously making notes in a small leather book he carried. It appeared well used, stained and cumbersome, but small enough for a man of his side to handle easily enough.

"Drink sir?" The Barkeeper asked, wiping the table where James had been.

"Who is that man?"

"Oh him? He's investigating a murder case."

Kenneth's heart skipped a beat for a moment. "Here?"

The Barkeeper smiled, revealing tobacco stained teeth. "Not likely. But on a nearby merchant vessel, the Queen of the Atlantic."

"Heard of her." Kenneth acknowledged. "Never thought something like that would occur."

"Strange thing too." The Barkeeper said.

"How so?"

"The young sailor who died had been eaten to death."

Kenneth laughed, taking it as a joke. "Speaking of eating. I'll take my usual and a pint of ale."

"Coming right up, young man." The Barkeeper replied, heading for the back.

Kenneth was giving some thought to the conversation when he felt someone sit next to him. How unusual he thought, and then he turned and looked into the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. They were large and luminous, as if he were gazing into the depths of the depths of the sea. Her eyebrows were a soft brown and her hair was loose and freely hanging, but in a unique style he had never seen before. Other than that, she looked perfectly normal. And lovable. 

At that moment he uttered, much to his dismay. "I think I'm falling in love."

She blushed, and then put a hand over his. "I hope I am not intruding upon you, but I am quite hungry and new to this town, and hoped you might be able to help me in two ways."

"Most certainly." He replied, touching his hat in a friendly gesture.

She dimpled, and then smiled coyly at him.

"Perhaps we could grab something to eat here and bring it with us as you showed me the town?"

"What an excellent idea." He proclaimed, feeling the web threading before him to capture this n new denizen of feminine treasure.

They took their food and left the Pub. A moment later James came out as well, his eyes on the two of them. At first he started off in a different direction, and then as they continued into the city, he followed at a discrete distance.

"My name is Amberly." She told Kenneth as he very carefully took her free hand and pressed it with his own. She squeezed back.

"You're a bold one, you are."

"Seize the treasure is my motto."

She smiled. "I like that. We're almost there." She told him slowing.

"Almost where?" He asked in perplexity. He thought they were heading to the park nearby, but instead she guided him back again towards the pier and a lone vessel that was moored there, its flags of an unusual color, laying slack in the lack of a morning breeze.

"What is this way?"

She laughed. "Why our meals of course. I have something wonderful to show you."

He smiled. "Of course." His heart skipped a beat, when he saw something a bit unusual in her smile, but he was so dead set on adding her to his list of trophies, that he ignored his intuition, squashing it flat.

She urged him towards the moored ship. He followed, like a lamb to the slaughter. When they proceeded up its gangplank, he became more nervous. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"I always know what I'm doing." She told him.

As they reached the main deck a huge man with a dark face and menacing brows stepped from the Captain's Cabin. "I'd like you to meet father. He's eager to eat you."

"You mean meet me, don't you?" He corrected her.

The words no sooner left his lips when a number of other crew members arose from various hiding places and surrounded them. "What's the meaning of this? I'm an important person, you touch me and you'll be punished to the full extent of the law."

The Captain loomed over him, smiling, revealing very sharp teeth, chiseled to points. "Aye, we'll be punished all right, but not by the likes of you, mortal." He laughed, and then lunged forward to grab Kenneth.

Kenneth dodged his grasp and ran to the Captain's Cabin and threw himself inside. He slammed the door shut and bolted it. "I'll just wait out this insanity." He said to himself, his whole body trembling with fear.

"Why, what a pretty young thing we have here." He heard from behind him. He turned and what had been invisible in the shadows of the dark cabin was a beautiful face, even more so than the young woman.

"This is my lucky day." He said out loud, congratulating himself on locking himself inside.

"Come to me, young man, I think we need to talk." The woman ordered him.

He went to her, with fancies of a warm and comfortable dalliance dancing in his heart and mind, but when he got further into the back, she rose slowly higher and higher, revealing that the bottom half of her body had scales like a fish. He cried out in horror as she lunged for him, her mouth open, 
revealing sharpened teeth.

On the pier James had been following the couple, and saw the altercation. He had come back with Inspector Bloodstone, knowing he couldn't protect the young man by himself. They boarded the ship. The Captain and his crew all leapt from the main deck into the Thames, vanishing into the depths of the waters, with no further sight of them.

The scream came from inside at that moment.

He and the Inspector rushed to the Captain's Door and broke it down. Inside they found a hatch that opened to the waters, open and a large fish's tail slithering through it. 

"Bloody Hell!" The Inspector cried out at the sight, then again as he spotted the remains of Kenneth Anger. 

James finished his journal entry, and then closed the leather book containing it. He put his hands on his eyes and rubbed them.

He had pieced the tale together from Naier and the young man's propensities from his conquest, his deductive powers and Crystal Palace allowing him to see the entire episode up until the death of the young man.

He had fallen from the Crystal Palace in horror when the young woman's mother had begun eating on young Kenneth, and so now he sat there somberly in the flat that was 221B. Here he shared his work and his companionship with his good friend, John Watson, who had recently lost his best friend, Sherlock Holmes, to a terrible fate.

James rose and looked out on the street below.

"Death come not as a friend to me,
Sheathe thy deadly claws,
Shut thy foul maw
And crawl away.

For you shall bedazzle me, baffle me
And eat my soul no more."

James thought of the elderly poet, Poe, who had written the verses a moment, and then at the sound of Watson coming up the steps, he turned a cheery smile to his companion to greet him. The past was gone, tomorrow was now.

"Watson!" He greeted as his friend entered. 

"You look good." Watson noted.

"Fresh sea air will do that for a man." James answered mysteriously.