Wednesday, December 11, 2013


In 1995 - France proudly presented - La Haine the film directed by Mathieu Kassovitz, openly inspired by Z, by Costas Gavras. It won best screenplay at Cannes, was nominated for pretty much every other category, and build the grounds for the actor Vincent Cassel's International fame, and acclaim.

It stole the limelight, but the merit was there, 150%, and nearly 20 years on, its undeniable, La Haine is a classic, an opus, a jewel of French cinema. This is France, this is culture, this is the real deal.

I'm still dumbfound, as to how The Artist (2011) won an Oscar, a BAFTA and countless other major film industry prizes. Witnessing this, I sadly realised, I was the only one to miss the point; to hate it; to hate the actor, and cry seeing John Goodman involved in this feature. 

America awarded a young pretentious actor known for awful films in France.
 To see him conquer Hollywood, is the biggest mystery to me. 
Who on earth is this much of a visionaire to cast Jean Du Jardin, that I can't see the talent in this piece of shameless prick? 
(I cringe at merely spelling his name). 
How could that joke represent France? 
Have the gods gone crazy? 
Money makes the world go round, we know, and who could win over The Weinstein company. 


These days, we're all hating street art, and if you're not, you've got bad taste. If you're not sick of it, you live in the countryside. If you love it, it means you're dating JR, Banksy, WK Interact, KAWS, or some pioneer like them, which is then legitimate or at least excusable. 
If you're defending street art, its perhaps because you're making a lot of cash of their back, which makes you lame. If you're hating me, you're a street artist. In which case, as we say 
"No one is perfect."

Miracles do occur 
- like in this sticker - 
This is a take on La Haine, and its a picture of the three main characters - Vinc, Hubert and Saïd.

 The street artist, I'm assuming French, is pretty witty. He placed LOVE instead of HATE.
(La haine means hatred)
I saw the sticker on the Metro, I missed my stop to carefully peel it off.
Did I brake the rules of street art? 
- My silence says it all -

Anyways Its now covering my wallet and protected by translucent cellar tape. 
The moral of the story, is that I then went to buy the film, and the thrill was equal as then. 

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