I noticed
Blow Up was on one of the cable channels the other nite, and recorded, and then watched it, or watched part of it then recorded it, and watched the rest of it. I remember watching this movie when I was like thirteen or fourteen. All I could really remember about the movie was that it was about photography, and there was a murder, and there were a couple of girls that showed their titties. At thirteen or fourteen, girls showing their titties was always interesting, and memorable.
The first thing I noticed this time was that Herbie Hancock did the score, and then there was supposed to be a song in it by The Yardbirds. The Yardbirds were sort of famous for their guitarists, one of whom was Jimmy Page. I think Clapton played with'em. There was another one who was famous, but I forget his name; (widipedia reminds that it was Jeff Beck). So I was sort of waiting for The Yardbirds song, and then David Hemmings walks into this '60's Posh Club, where everybody's just standing around watching The Yardbirds. Oh, their playing some heavy blues rock, and there's Jimmy Page wailing on the guitar, and there's some blond haired singer I should also know, and there's some other guy getting frustrated with his equipment, who ends up destroying his guitar, and ... Well, everybody's just standing around. Nobody appears to be grooving to the beat, if you know what I mean, and then the guy destroying his guitar throws it into the audience, and apparently right at David Hemmings, so that everybody goes crazy, and starts diving for the pieces, and all David Hemmings wants is to get the hell out of there, which ultimately he does, being chased by some other guy, because he, David Hemmings, has somehow ended up with the fingerboard of the guitar, and, well he runs away. When he gets outside, when he gets away, he realizes he's holding the fingerboard, and he throws it on the ground like it's trash. Some other guy on the street sees him do this, and for a moment picks up the fingerboard and examines it, then throws it back down on the ground.
Oh, the titties were still there, but somehow the girls looked prettier than I remembered. There was something in their eyes...
It is a strange movie. But it's about photography, and it is photography.
Another thing I remember is thinking that David Hemmings walked funny. I can distinctly remember him walking through a door and a short entranceway, and thinking "he walks funny." I don't remember seeing this scene this time around. I definitely don't remember seeing anything where I thought "he walks funny". Hmmm. Perhaps this is a sign of aging?
The Herbie Hancock score was actually very good. And once I thought I heard this guitar riff that could only be Jimmy Page, but ... apparently it was Herbie Hancock and company.
I don't know that you ever actually know the name of the photographer David Hemmings plays, so I suppose it's okay to say it's "David Hemmings", but of course, it isn't. (Or is it!?!!)
As I say, it's a strange movie. But as you watch the wind blow through the boughs of the tree where the dead body no longer is, well, I felt like I was reading poetry. Something I don't do often, but, less so, do movies.
