49. 25 Posts from Facebook

1

I have seen lots of arthouse films and consider myself to be quite adaptive to innovative styles, unconventional narrative structures, minimalisms, and so on. None of these films, however, has baffled me more than the enigmatic "Last Year at Marienbad", a film so sovereign in its form and technique that I have always described it as the best example of how far from traditional norms cinema can possibly develop. 

(28.07.2011)

2

Kirjuta paberile väikestes trükitähtedes sõna "club" selliselt, et c-täht ja b-tähe paun oleksid võimalikult ümarad ning l- ja b-tähe labad nii pikad, et kui nende tippude vahele kirjutada - mida ka tee - number 26, siis jääb u-täheni, mille võid tegelikult ka ära jätta, veel tükk tühja maad. Seejärel ühenda, kui vajalikuks pead, kõik lahtised otsad lähima punkti või joonega naabertähel ning küsi endalt, mida tekkinud kujutis sulle meenutab. Just sellise logoga meelitab kliente üks Lauteri tänava tervisekeskus! 

(29.10.2011)

3

Today on the bus an old man talking to a random passenger could not help wondering that a former KGB officer who had sent his brother to a Czechoslovakian prison for eighteen years and could not write without mistakes had become, after Estonia regained its independence, a priest. For him these two positions were separated from one another, on the axis of moral value, by a distance so remarkable that, in an exalted tone of voice, he emphasised this 'contradiction' more than once. I smiled at his simple-mindedness. 

(16.03.2012)

4

I am looking for books about the history of human sexual behaviour, that is, books about what people actually do when they have sex (and consequently, what acts are considered sexual), how they find their partners, from where, etc. etc, not metaphysical mumblings about sexuality (I hate that word) or overviews of the sexual habits of a particular subculture or of the people of a certain era (always too vague). Porn films are too unreal and are today's phenomenon, brothels are too exclusive (the madam couldn't help me much), the sexual experiences of one person are not comprehensive enough. Does anybody know any of such books? Or am I like Borges, describing books yet unwritten? 

(28.06.2012)

5

kaks paksu lesbit vahetavad minu kõrval pingil õrnusi üks kutsub end alfaemaseks kuigi sõnast alfaisane oleks ta võinud üle võtta pigem teise poole annan talle parema nime röhilesbi 

(03.07.2012)

6

Après avoir traversé toute la ville avec les drapeaux de la France (« À la recherche des Français perdus »), je me suis installé sur l'escalier d'un parc désert juste à côté de l'ancienne enceinte de Tallinn. Avec cette photo-ci je vous envoie, mes amis français, mes salutations les plus chaleureuses. Joyeuse fête du 14 Juillet ! Et vive la France ! 

(14.07.2012)

7

melancholy languor ennui nostalgia fatigue spleen lethargy disquiet tedium nausea malaise anguish angst

interesting that these beautiful-sounding words refer to the most horrible (because vague) psychological states in the world

the idea of sickness is bearable because it is linked with the idea of cure 

(14.08.2012)

8

I like it 

• when people use the subjunctive mood in English, 
• when they use the 'ne' expletif in French, 
• when, in French, they leave a space between the word and the punctuation sign that follows, 
• when Russians speaking Estonian use an adverb of manner right before the verb.

I am often confused

• when, in a French text, I see a verb in subjonctif imparfait (I always need some time to figure out how it is formed, and why this mood and this tense is used), and 
• when, in English adjectives derived from verbs, native speakers stress the third syllable from the end, and not the second (e.g., 'indicative').

I hate it 

• when people use the construction 'to be like + a quote' in English (lack of verbs in their vocabulary),
• when, in Estonian, they use both the conjunction 'et' and the interrogative word to introduce an indirect question ("küsisin, et miks ta..."). 

(11.11.2012)

9

eesti keeles on embus embuse embust aga tähendusega embamine võiks olla ka emme embe emmet huvitav kas sõnal ema emme on sellega mingi etümoloogiline seos 

(7.02.2013)

10

If I had done it in public, this would probably be called a performance. The total number of crisps is 63n+51, where n is the number of heaps. I deliberately did not count the heaps because the idea was to try my patience and clean my mind, not to find out how many crisps there were in the package. Whenever I thought there was a mistake in counting, I began anew. The windows were closed and all possible noises were turned off. I was hungry. It took me two and a half hours to count all the crisps. During that time I also checked the time twice, took these photos and, as it got dark, turned on the light. The next time I will do it with grains of rice. To prevent it from becoming interesting, I won't distribute them in heaps any more but will move them one by one from container to another. This experiment could be useful when you are upset and need to calm your nerves. But I am sure it is more useful when you have no reason to do it. 

(24.05.2013)

11

Sometimes I wish that my enthusiasm for certain things in life would fade away completely, that my desolation would be total, that the things I do to keep this desolation away would be rooted out of the world so that I could be, like the characters of this film, a pure being.

At 10 o'clock in the morning, unemployed middle-aged labourers have just woken up. Some of them are having their first cigarette of the day. I watch them with admiration, with envy even. Where are they going? What are they thinking of? How do they spend their days?

(On Uzak by Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 20.06.2013)

12

The greatest jokes are darker than dark, so dark that I am not sure any more if they are jokes at all, that even the teller himself doesn't know if he meant them as jokes or as interesting stories only, jokes at which I may laugh but not because they are funny, or rather, at which I try to skip the laughing part because I feel there is so much more into it than humour.

Yet, with all this, it is with the warmest, almost paternal feelings that I think of this film.

(On The Death of Mr. Lazarescu by Cristi Puiu, 21.06.2013)

13

I was watching this film out in the country at St John's Eve four years ago. My mother came by with one of her friends, who, seeing me in pyjamas on the living room floor, felt sorry for me and invited me to join them. I smiled and thanked her. They left.

This way I have also spent some of my Christmas Eves, New Year's Eves, even birthdays.

(On Russian Ark by Alexander Sokurov, 23.06.2013)

14

It is fashionable to say that one should never watch a film right after having read the novel on which it is based, or to quote Hitchcock, who said that only a mediocre book could be made into a good film. It is even more difficult with screen adaptations of good plays. It seems to me that many of the few directors who have ventured into this difficult undertaking have given up the attempt to translate the play into the cinematic language quite at the beginning. The resulting films remain intendedly theatrical; they can be seen as filmed versions of stage performances; sometimes they are only of mnemonic value, but they can also be real homages.

''Vanya on 42nd Street'' [by Louis Malle] is one the best examples of this kind of filmmaking: even though the less-theatre-more-film direction is clearly visible here, Chekhov remains Chekhov.

(24.06.2013)

15

Actually, ''Satantango'' is more than a film. Watching it is a performance. I want it to be shown at the Sõprus cinema at one night in one of the bleakest months of the year. I would like to film the audience during its entire run. If there would be no audience, I would film the empty cinema.

(On Sátántangó by Béla Tarr, 26.06.2013)

16

Deux bises à chacun de vous, mes chers amis français ! Trois bises à tous les garçons français que j'ai baisé (sauf ceux du sud de la France) ! Que la France vive ! Qu'elle fleurisse ! Vive la femme qui a parlé des passions littéraires de Fabrice Luchini à une conférence à Tallinn il y a quelques mois ! Vive la chanteuse qui a récité (« en français, bien sûr ») un poème de Victor Hugo pendant un concert nocturne au Rooftop Cinéma ! La fille corpulente avec un sourire timide dans la réception du Musée Marcel Proust à Illiers-Combray, je t'adore ! Benjamin, Baudelaire, tous les flâneurs parisiens et l'Ennui, c'est avec vous que je vais passer ce jour de grande solennité ( à la place d'agiter mes drapeaux de la France dans la rue ). Une pensée pour vous qui habitez dans un petit appartement à Saint-Germain-des-Prés et qui n'avez jamais de l'argent ! Et toi, mon bouquiniste fâcheux... 

(14.07.2013)

17

augustus died in 14 ad

this is almost two millennia ago

a long time

yet to form a continuous chain from that time to today less than thirty 70-year-old men are needed

try to picture thirty people forming a chain on a field

(10.08.2013)

18

4:35 pm binge sleeping

(15.01.2014)

19

In Dushanbe, 

• construction sites are everywhere, 
• Stalinist architecture flourishes, 
• most streets have no name (driving on them is called Tajik massage), 
• machines that look like ATMs are actually for cell phones, 
• pictures on walls are always slanting, 
• slim cigarettes are popular, 
• you're allowed to smoke indoors but can get fined if you do it out on the street, 
• bread tastes perfect, 
• instant coffee is preferred and people slurp it,
• hosts at restaurants shake your hand, 
• men, when dancing, move around women and constantly bend down as if trying to fix their dress, 
• there are only five or six guys on Grindr and Hornet (almost all the rest are in China), 
• people are very polite and, instead of ''mhmh'', ''OK'' or silence, verbally respond to everything I say, 
• I can have a long discussion on Rumi, Nizami and Omar Khayyam, and, if spent more time here, could even meet people who can recite the whole ''Masnavi'' by heart.

(23.02.2014)

20

There are many antique shops in my neighborhood. Lots of middle-aged middle-class couples from Northern Europe and the US; not so bored husbands. Lots of small coffee shops, with façades and interiors like those my Western friends like to photograph. My favourite restaurant only 30 meters away; the menu is oral, for 13 liras I get the most delicious chicken with coriander ever, and much more. Orhan Pamuk and the Museum of Innocence. Lots of fashionable people. Beards and strong calves. A terrace with a view on Hagia Sophia, the Sultan Ahmed Mosque and Gülhane Park. I have figured out where I can buy bread in the morning and fruit at night, where the closest tantuni place is, where I can get sunscreen (it is around 30°C every day, and I discovered I have sun allergy). Börek with meat; somebody said it is very Turkish to eat it at your front door in the morning. I have a doorman; he is always there somewhere, but I never see him. A local guy (probably a drug addict) who asks foreigners for one lira and when they say they don't have it accuses them of trying to trick on him. A transsexual bar next street. The loud music from the street that up to three million people pass every day occupies my room at nights, but when I go out there is more or less peace and quiet. Every day at around 11AM and 11PM a pss-pss-pss: a woman whose window opposites mine calls a cat. Construction workers interacting loudly, even now, at midnight. Phones ringing on the street; I often mistake them for a doorbell. Laughters and quarrels. A guy singing a melancholic song in vibrato. Three days ago, not far away, I saw a sheep on a small side street.

(In Çukurcuma, 15.07.2014)

21

You have arranged a meeting with someone for the first time. You have seen their photos but you don't know how they look like in real life. You are at the meeting place. You think you see them but you are not sure if it is them (at least you think you are not sure). You pretend that you haven't recognised them while hoping they will come to you first. They won't. You will need a few minutes to gather yourself. Then, more confident, you will go to them. After that, if it's them, things will be easy.

Should these few minutes of pretense be seen as a problem?

(Let's forget, for a moment, that they are just as responsible for the outcome of this situation as you are. This is about YOUR behaviour.)

They should, because, first, even if you're not sure if it's them, you are lying or inhibiting yourself, and, secondly, they might start thinking that you don't like them, that you're trying to win time to get out of this situation. Your behaviour could strike their pride. They would take these few minutes of inaction as a personal offense, or at least as a lack of interest, and they would probably not forgive you.

They should not, because timidity and nervousness are very common when meeting new people, even if you meet new people all the time. Yes, there is something disturbing about your temporary indecisiveness, but they should forgive you because addressing a stranger is never easy.

Is it a problem when

1. they see your behaviour as a problem (they are too soft, too proud, insecure)?
2. they don't see your behaviour as a problem (they are too indifferent to defend their honour)?
3. you see your behaviour as a problem (you have inner conflicts)?
4. you don't see your behaviour as a problem (you are cold, egoistic, with bad manners)?

Which is the biggest sin?

(04.08.2014)

22

Today I went to Bostancı not because I wanted to see or do something there but because I always thought that the name Bostancı sounded beautiful

Proust, «Noms de pays : le nom»

Nâzım Hikmet Ran, the greatest Turkish poet of the 20th century, spent the 1961/1962 New Year's Eve in Tallinn and wrote a poem about the New Year tree there and about a woman called Marina dying in Moscow

Ma ei tea, kuidas on näärid inglise keeles.

Eesti keelde tõlkinud Ain Kaalep, kogumikus "See punane õun" (1965), "Yılbaşı Ağacı" in Turkish

(01.09.2014)

23

In this beautiful Sufi-influenced poem by the 16th-century Spanish Catholic mystic St John of the Cross, the soul/the lover goes out on a dark night to find union with God/the beloved. This poem (or at least its English translation in the musical adaptation by Loreena McKennitt) could also be interpreted, from the first to the last line, as a night-time cruising adventure of someone.

• "Upon a darkened night / The flame of love was burning in my breast" = appetite for sex
• "Shrouded by the night / And by the secret stair I quickly fled / The veil concealed my eyes" // "In secrecy, beyond such mortal sight" // "Oh night thou was my guide / Of night more loving than the rising sun" = what should be kept in secret offers more pleasure
• "Without a guide or light / Than that which burned so deeply in my heart" = a hungry body knows where to go
• "That fire t'was led me on /.../ To where he waited still / It was a place where no one else could come" = a club, a park, or a place where someone's always waiting
• "Oh night that joined the lover / To the beloved one / Transforming each of them into the other" // "Beneath the cedars all my love I gave" = the act
• "I lost myself to him / And laid my face upon my lover's breast" = orgasm
• "And care and grief grew dim / As in the morning's mist became the light / There they dimmed amongst the lilies fair (3x)" = post-orgasm

(On ''Dark Night of the Soul'', 04.12.2014)

24

There is always a tint of displeasure when I listen to music.

Many years ago you didn't listen to music at all, you even said that you didn't like music, and I thought that you were senseless, literally, that you lived your life with a vital organ having been amputated.

I have the same organ of mine in my hands now. I don't want to throw it away, but I don't know where to put it.

They often say that music is the most sublime of the arts, that its non-existence would be a bigger loss for us than that of literature, theatre or sculpture.

I always think for some seconds when I enter the name of a performer in YouTube search. I usually search for the one that I listened to a day or week before. And the same few songs.

Songs. I cannot listen to most of them – irrespective of their genre or quality – for more than three times. They are short. They may contain the whole world in three minutes, but what are they next to the love that slowly builds itself on an active long-time commitment? (The advantage of thousand-page novels and three-hour films!)

I can only listen to classical or experimental music on a daily basis when I do it systematically, when I learn about a composer, a period or a style. Pleasure from learning rather than from listening. (Again, the time factor.)

Music as a social form of art. I like the type of performing musicians the least and the type of novelists, translators and philosophers the most. I don't go to concerts very often because there the whole room is full of people that like the same music as I do.

I prefer natural and technological sounds to composed music. Wearing earphones out on the street equals imprisonment.

Sometimes I listen to films.

When you ask what kind of music I like, I answer, silence. When I really have to specify a genre, I answer, folk music.

Folk music is not world music. The latter is a rather uniform and thus boring popular genre. A genre for tourists, not for travellers.

The biggest commonality for the different types of music that I listen to: the places and the times where they bring me. Personal memories and collective psyche. Geography and history were my favourite subjects at school in my formative years.

I like music for what it is not.

(06.05.2015)

25

I am at a café where a lot of university people are having their breakfast. A man comes, greets in English a girl he seems to know, and then, either because their level of acquaintance is poor or because her Estonianness becomes apparent - she responds politely but then shuts off and goes on writing something -, sits at a table next to hers.

I wonder how he will leave the café. What will he say to her? Will he say anything at all? What gestures will he use? Will she reciprocate as before? Will she show any initiative as well? Will I witness his leaving? A shudder runs through me when I think of his leaving. Where should I go to not witness his leaving?

I know that it will be to no avail. All these questions are meaningless, because even though I don't know what he will say and how she will respond (althought it is not difficult to guess), he will leave anyway. His future act of leaving cancels all the details, all the motivations for it. I am paralyzed by this imminence, and this paralysis is total, making everything even remotely probable seem unavoidable, underlining the absolute unavoidability of my own death and the end of all things.

He leaves the way I thought he would. I am alive.

(It appears to me that she, too, could have left first. The consequences of that leaving would have been cosmic.)

(03.08.2015)

42. On New York: A Documentary Film

New York: A Documentary Film (1999-2003; directed by Ric Burns) is an outstanding phenomenon in the genre of the television documentary. First of all, its total length of 17.5 hours, divided between eight episodes, guarantees that the selection of the essential topics from the history of New York City is not too violent, that all these topics are treated thoroughly and that the leftovers do not appear as tragic. Most TV documentaries are about what I already know and thus urge me to turn to literature to find a more detailed and systematic coverage. New York: A Documentary Film, on the other hand, provides a significant number of facts for those who want to create, bit by bit, their own history of that vibrant city. It does not merely demonstrate the facts related to its subject, as is often the case with overviews of history; it explains the less visible social, cultural and economic changes that have shaped the city's story, and it attemps to convey the atmosphere of the city. Emphasis has been put on the causes of the events, and the significance of these events in historical perspective is described in a way that does not outbalance the details. This equilibrium works well in that it gathers together all the signs that personify what New York City has been and is.

The biggest asset of this epic documentary is the deep love its makers have for its subject.

One of the interviewees states that there is no big novel about New York City as there are about London, Paris and Saint Petersburg. New York: A Documentary Film could be this missing "novel" – a rich, beautiful and emotionally captivating monument in honour of the greatest city in the world.

***

Scenario:

• New York Conspiracy of 1741
• Battle of New York 1776
• Alexander Hamilton
• Washington Irving "Rip Van Winkle", "A History of New York"
• Dewitt Clinton and the Erie Canal
• The New York Herald
• P. T. Barnum and Barnum's American Museum
• Walt Whitman
• Panic of 1857
• Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux, the construction of Central Park
• Abraham Lincoln's Cooper Union Speech
• 1863 Draft Riots
• George Templeton Strong
• Fernando Wood
• Bethesda Terrace
• Cornelius Vanderbilt
• William M. Tweed & Tammany Hall
• Panic of 1873
• J. P. Morgan
• The construction of Brooklyn Bridge
• Lower East Side
• How the Other Half Lives, Jacob Riis
• The Sidewalks of New York
• Consolidation of New York City, 1898
• The New Colossus, Emma Lazarus
• Al Smith
• Building of New York subway
• Shirtwaist strike of 1909 and Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire of 1911
• Hoovervilles in Central Park
• Jimmy Walker
• Fiorello La Guardia
• Robert Moses
• Harlem Riot of 1935
• 1939-1940 New York World's Fair
• Triborough Bridge
• Cross-Bronx Expressway
• The Death and Life of Great American Cities, Jane Jacobs
• Protests about the demolition of the Pennsylvania Station
• Philippe Petit
• Construction of the WTC towers

I created the scenario on the basis of the documentary in autumn 2010. I began the review in January 2011, but I never completed it. I edited the text in July 2015. 

36. Lilla jopp ja valge vihmamantel

Nägin mitu päeva vaeva, et oma märkmeid Ilmar Raagi „Eestlanna Pariisis“ kohta arvustuseks vormida, kuid peagi sain aru, et see film ei suuda siiski mu pingutust õigustada. Avaldan vaid ideekavandi.  

Kodukultuur versus ideaalkultuur. Viimase koondkujuks sobib hästi see filmi peaosatäitjatest, kelle nimi tiitritesse esimesena ilmub.

Tegevuspaigaks mütoloogiline Pariis. Triumfikaar, millega kulmineerub Anne esimene öine jalutuskäik (ja millel on ka narratiivne funktsioon, sest see paigutab Frida korteri kindlasse linnaossa ja ühiskonnaklassi), Eiffeli torn, öine Seine... See, et pariislased ise Louvre'is ei käi (või pigem see, et nad väidavad, et nad seal ei käi?). Et Prantsusmaa on armastuse ja võrgutamise kultuur (eestlaslikku ingellikkust ja prantslaslikku seksapiili on filmis läbivalt kõrvutatud). Segaduses välismaalased Pariisi metroos, kui rong peatub ja uksed ei avane.

Kust osta hommikuks croissant'e?

Tegelikku Pariisi tungib kaadrisse väga vähe. Tänavastseenid on steriilsed, inimtühjad. Lõhnapoes on Anne ainuke klient. Inimesi näeme vaid seal, kus ilma ei saa (kohvikus, Eiffeli torni juures).

Arusaadav, miks filmi pealkiri on „Eestlanna Pariisis“ ja mitte „Pariis eestlanna pilgu läbi“ vms.

Aga äkki on selline maneerlikkus taotluslik? Ehk näidatakse meile vaid seda Pariisi, mille jaoks Annel on silmi, Pariisi, mida ta on suuteline ära tundma (vastandina tundmaõppimisele)? Parfüümid, uus kleit ja kingad, sest Pariis on moepealinn. Filmi lõpus nagu turist, kes, kohver käes, käib läbi vaid sümboolsed kohad. Just nagu kirjeldaks keegi, kes pole Pariisis kunagi käinud, seda, mida ta tahaks seal teha.

Anne ja Carmela Soprano. Mõlemat tõmbab koju, kuid Carmela õpib Pariisi kohta ka midagi uut. Anne silmad on lahti vaid valitud hetkedel. Võib-olla peegeldab see umbsus Anne kodutust. Carmela ei pea, saba jalge vahel, Ameerikasse naasma. Anne kui vang, Pariis kui paratamatus.

Kas filmi vead tulevad Anne isiksuse iseärasustest? Kas need on üldse vead? Kas tegu on hoopis ühtsusega tegelaskuju/narratiivi ja misanstseeni vahel?

Selles naiivses kramplikkuses, millega lihtinimesed oma keskpärastest maitse-eelistustest kinni hoiavad, on mõnikord midagi väga kurba...

Vaevumärgatav naeratus, mille Anne kiiresti maha surub, kui ta Pariisi lennujaamas papitükil oma nime näeb. Ta vist häbeneb mind, sest mul tuleb temaga sammu pidada, et autoni jõuda. Anne versus mannekeen vaateaknal (ehk on siin midagi liiga palju?). Mees kohvikus (mida ta Annet vaadates mõtleb?). Anne kui teenijatüdruk ja Frida hirmutamistaktika ohver (Prantsusmaa mõjub sisseastujale tihti just sellisena – hirmutamiskultuurina). Telefonikõne koju. Need kohmetud seismised ja tegevuse otsimised, käte sättimised, vargsi kapi avamised jne.

Anne kui eestlane. Anne kui naine, kui keskealine naine. Need kaadrid on filmi kõige liigutavamad.

„Eestlanna Pariisis“ kui sotsialiseerumishäbi analüüs. Harjumuspäratus keskkonnas, kus mult eeldatakse aktiivset suhtlemist, olen enamasti eneseteadlikult kohmetu, kuid kohe kui avaneb väljapääsuvõimalus, neutraliseerib mingi ootamatu, kontrollile allumatu, ehk isegi jumalik jõud selle ebamugavustunde ning ma saan rahus koju minna. Aga rahu on üürike, sest kohe tõstab minus pead filosoof; filosoof, kes nõuab säärase fatalismi asendamist selge teadlikkusega sellest, millised suhtlemisprobleemid mul lahendamata jäid.

Anne naasmine enne äralendu Frida korterisse mõjub kui deus ex machina. Et filmi helge noodiga lõpetada.

Anne ja Ukuaru Minna.

Pool või kolmveerand filmi. Ei näita, jutustab. Ajakirjaniku kombel. Justkui kuulmise järgi. Kompositsiooni laialivalguvus poleks probleemiks, kui tegu oleks naturalistliku filmiga, kuid siin on detailid liialt alla joonitud, müütilised. 

„Eestlanna Pariisis“ ja Hou Hsiao-Hsieni „Punase õhupalli lend“: sarnane narratiivne lähtealus, kuid esimene on umbsevõitu, teine on värskem.

Kas pole see, et Anne üht öist jalutuskäiku saadavad filmi heliribal trompetiviisid (?), mitte austusavaldus Jeanne Moreau läbimurdefilmile „Lift tapalavale“, milles tema tegelaskuju Miles Davise muusika saatel samuti öises Pariisis uitab?

24. On Queer as Folk

The strength of the statement that Queer as Folk (Showtime, 2000-2005) is a television series that deserves remembering depends largely on the aspects of the show the critic chooses to emphasise. On the one hand, it is impossible to downplay the sociocultural significance of Queer as Folk; after all, it was the first TV-series that centered around gay characters and did it in a three-dimensional way, a phrase one of its actors used to refer to the unusual sexual and social frankness visible in almost each of its episode. More than being close to reality in its depiction of the life of the people who belong to a social group self-labelled as gay, it is realistic because of the deeply self-conscious and permanently playful reliance on the signs, stereotypes, and, if you wish, clichés widely spread within that group. Queer as Folk is thus an important cultural document of the mind of its creators, reflective of that of the majority of the gay community; it gives a thorough and funny, although unsystematic, overview of the gay perspective.

The fact that Queer as Folk is extensive rather than intensive in its nature is simultaneously the show's major default. It wants be representative of the general homosexual experience without paying attention to the possibility of the idea that homosexual identity could also express itself in ways clearly different from those depicted in the show. Therefore, it is extensive, but not extensive enough. Furthermore, the characters of Queer as Folk, even though colourful (especially Sharon Gless's Debbie), tend to be psychologically flat. Rather than naturally inhabiting the fictional world that has been created for them, they behave as extensions of their creators' minds, whose manipulations are, especially in the final seasons, clearly visible. This flatness makes the narrative of the series nothing more than mediocre; the creators of the show seem to have thrown together all the precious bits of gay consciousness without knowing how to organise them in a meaningful way. There is a lot of wit involved but not enough art of original storytelling. (Remember that Queer as Folk was created at the time when several landmark shows concurrently proved that there could be auteurs in television.) In terms of its intrinsic values, Queer as Folk is, henceforth, just an average TV-series, no better than Desperate Housewives, much worse than The Wire. It is its groundbreaking social role, and the subsequent status as an icon for a significant amount of people, that makes it a cultural phenomenon worthy of admiration.

18. Poirot: Still Alive

Some British detective dramas seem to have lost their charm and vitality in the course of more than a decade-long run. One cannot avoid thinking about Midsomer Murders here, which is now a poor reflection of what it used to be ten years ago. Aging is clearly not a problem for Agatha Christie's Poirot, the newest episode of which, Murder on the Orient Express, premiered in the United States on July 11.

Although the value of every adaptation can be assessed on the basis of the comparison to the original work only, in this case, to the Agatha Christie's 1934 novel, these adaptations have several qualities on their own. Of course, Murder on the Orient Express has been one of the most popular Poirot stories, and its conclusion, which reveals that instead of one suspect all twelve are guilty of the murder, remains stunning in any faithful adaptation in any medium. The particular value of the Poirot episode has first a lot to do with its cast. David Suchet, though visibly older than in 1989, when the series began, is still brilliantly convincing in his portrayal of the Belgian detective, and even now we regularly find the names of veteran actors and actresses in the show's cast list (in this episode, Eileen Atkins's role as Princess Dragomiroff is particularly noteworthy). The way the visual narrative uncovers the real identity of the victim - an Italian mafioso who had kidnapped and killed a three-year-old girl -, the murder of whom is later revealed by Poirot to be a revenge by the party of twelve, reminded me of the way convicted killers are normally presented in newspaper articles and books about the cruellest murderers ever. The actor really looks like a perverted criminal, and his portrayal, thus, affects the way we evaluate Poirot's dilemma at the end of the episode - whether or not to reveal the facts concerning the murder to the police. Poirot's inner struggle about such a Robin Hood-like treatment of justice - it is revealed that Poirot is a devout Catholic - is, compared to the novel, more highlighted here, and the way he is distanced from his positivist worldview and shown as a vulnerable human being makes this episode stand out.

What makes Murder on the Orient Express an episode especially close to me is its mise-en-scène. The train, on which the murder and the investigation take place, is at one point depicted as having stopped due to a snowstorm somewhere in the Balkans, and these frames reminded me of a similar scene in Pasternak's Doctor Zhivago. The similarity was so strong that it forced me to light candles, turn on Russian Orthodox music when writing this article, and imagine that it is snowing outside. Furthermore, the direct reference to a train in the title (titles like Shanghai Express, Chungking Express, 4.50 from Paddington, etc. always arise my interest beforehand for some reason) alongside with the fact that the events of the plot take place in the context of the pre-war British colonialism is an additional merit.

All these features made me recollect the time when Sunday night was the high peak of my week. The Estonian national television station aired shows like Poirot, Marple, Midsomer Murders, and Wire in the Blood then, and I always celebrated it with a good old English tea and a specially baked bara brith. These characteristics also forced me to reconsider my view that, today, good television is only made in the USA.

16. Two Souths on HBO: One Bloody, Another Floody

When one tries to compare the two Southern-themed drama series that HBO has launched since autumn 2008, one will soon come to the realisation that True Blood and Treme represent radically different approaches to the depiction of the setting in a television show.

In True Blood, a Gothic vampire saga now running its third series, the setting functions primarily as a background for the numerous twists and turns of the plot. Although the title sequence of the show - probably one of HBO's best - portrays a wide variety of phenomena that refer to the Deep South setting of the series (for example, shots depicting the bayou landscape, local architecture, religious fanaticism and the predatory nature of sexuality), the show itself is rather inconsistent in picking up these elements and using them systematically to accentuate the authenticity of the action. Instead of relying on the cues available in the environment in which the show is set, a huge proportion of external plot lines was brought in in the first two series of True Blood. Take, for instance, the entrance of Greek mythology into the second season of the series, a move that had nothing to do with the show's original setting. Numerous equivalents of the Southern folklore just seemed to remain unrealised here, giving way to the necessities of entertainment.

Since the plot and the setting of True Blood are, to a large extent, essentially incompatible, the story events of the show could take place in whatever part of the United States. But they do take place in Louisiana, and it seems to serve a purpose. Naturally, the swamp mystique could, on its own, be a great source of inspiration for a vampire-themed allegory - the past and present of Louisiana offer a lot of possibilities for that -, and this seems to be the case here, too. Yet for some reason, it was not a resource that Charlaine Harris, the author on whose Sookie Stackhouse Novels the show is based, as well as Alan Ball, the main creator of True Blood, chose to fully exploit. Instead, references to the locale remain chiefly in the field of mise-en-scene (accents, locations and design); even those directly affecting the plot tend to concern minor details only. Already the fact that Bon Temps, a small town in which the series is set, is a fictional location is a sign of a considerable distance from the attempt to portray the environment in a way that is maximally faithful to the physical reality. Therefore, the poetic approach to the depiction of the setting dominates in True Blood. On the basis of the plot, the setting is under constant manipulation here, and the world the show presents is quite different from the one outside.

Being fiction, Treme too cannot ignore the ultimate incompatibility of the real and the represented. It can, however, follow the details of the physical reality in a more consistent and precise manner than True Blood or even present these, instead of the plot, as the axis of the show. Depicting the daily struggle of the citizens of post-Katrina New Orleans in rebuilding their lives as well as the city itself and its unique culture, Treme is, indeed, so remarkable for its fidelity in details that, in the first viewing, one would probably find it quite hard to orientate in a mesh of references to the show's real setting. For example, most of the series is shot in location in New Orleans; original New Orleanian music (diegetic!) can be heard in large quantities in every episode; local colloquialisms, most of which will probably remain obscure to the bulk of the viewers, are thoroughly used in the dialogues; also, non-actors are involved in supporting or minor roles. One could go further and say that even the major characters are nothing more than accessories of the setting in Treme. In opposition to the rational and goal-oriented protagonists of True Blood, who seem to be little affected by their environment, the characters of Treme are, indeed, highly sensible of, or even defined by, external (and not only post-catastrophic) conditions. Henceforth, stressed by the use of an ensemble cast, the possibility for a romantic identification with one or a few characters remains rare, and instead, New Orleans itself comes forward.

There is, of course, a plot in Treme, but instead of dominating over the setting by reducing the role of the latter to the one of luxurious decoration merely, the depicted events are much more naturally intertwined with the space of the show, compared to most other television series. Thus, Treme represents a realistic approach to the portrayal of the setting: as in the physical world, in which the environment has always prevailed and will prevail in the future over smaller or larger narratives, in Treme, too, the setting is allowed to speak for itself. One apparent consequence of this approach is bigger adaptability required from the viewer; Treme must be enjoyed differently than True Blood. In Nancy Franklin's words, Treme prohibits the viewer from loving the show, while instead, asking him/her to value it. An emotional connection between the viewer and the series is, thus, eventually much closer, but it also needs more time (probably more than the length of ten episodes) to establish itself.

Compared to the difference of representation of the setting, then, the pure fact that True Blood and Treme are both set in the same geographical area remains rather unimportant.