Scoring a Gibson's Touchdown

It's Grey Cup weekend and the Winnipeg Blue Bombers are facing off against the Saskatchewan Rough Riders.

My friend's son Simon Ho, who tends bar at Toronto's trendy Drake Hotel, entered a drinks competition sponsored by Gibson's whisky. He invented a drink called the Gibson's Touchdown. It won and is now billed as the official drink of the Grey Cup by Gibson's. Here's the recipe:

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice and combine:

- 1 1/2 oz. rye whisky

- 1/2 oz. orange juice

- 1/4 oz. maple syrup

- 1 oz. cranberry juice

- Dash of bitters

- Shake and serve in a rocks glass filled with ice

- Serve with pretzels or other salty snacks



I served the drink last night to friends. We discovered that the dash of bitters is an essential ingredient--otherwise the drinks turn out a bit too sweet. I used Averno bitters and served the drinks stirred rather than shaken with a slice of orange as a garnish.

We drank the tasty cocktails before dinner with cheese, crackers, spicy Thai-flavoured chips and corn chips.

One consumer of the drink was so taken with it that he wrote with the following remarks:

"Thaza darngolly good kinda drink, graycop er not. Tried er out shevral times B4 dinnar an gollyjeez that crunbry an maplesyrup an oranj shur nokkkt me fera looperoony, eh? Wifey wuz sayin givsome, givsom, tuchdone, tuchdon. Bud I sez Too late, eh? I drunk itall. We ar rye outta ran, eh, er rAnoutta rye."

Change of season

Autumnal warmth and colours have lasted an extra month so far this year. Usually by Remembrance Day we've had our first snowfall--as far as I remember . . .







Crocuses are already blooming in this Manning Avenue garden.

The Dalai Lama chats with Torontonians

The Dalai Lama spoke at the Rogers Centre in Toronto to an audience of about 16,000 people on Halloween.


He wants to promote human value, peace and harmony, he said. He spoke on a variety of topics.

"There is too much exploitation of animals," he said. "We almost treat animals like vegetables."


He spoke for just over an hour, and then took questions for another 20 minutes. The questions had been selected from ones asked on his Web site.


A translator helped the Dalai Lama when he was at a loss for English words. He also read the questions.

A different kind of altar

Story and more pictures to be added later . . .

Ophelia, cemeteries & suicide

A friend of mine killed herself a few weeks ago. I knew her for about 20 years. We met at the Art Gallery of Ontario where she organized special events and functions. I was a waitress in the member's lounge.


The day I found out she'd killed herself, I saw this graffiti in Philosopher's Walk near the Royal Ontario Museum. I wondered how many people would share this sentiment.



She would visit the member's lounge for a glass of wine after she finished work on Wednesdays--the one day of the week that the gallery stayed open late. We liked each other, but we didn't socialize.

We were both very good pals of a talented, yet troubled, artist friend who killed himself in May 2005. I also met him during the two years or so when I worked at the gallery. He was a waiter in the restaurant and a gifted jeweller and artist.

The two spent a lot of time together. She was an excellent friend to him.

She was laid off after 25 years or so of working at the gallery. He killed himself on her last day on the job.

He was quite ill physically and was suffering from depression. He was an alcoholic and abused drugs. He threw himself on the subway tracks at the Queen Street station after checking himself out of St. Michael's Hospital.

The last time I saw him he was so high that he could barely speak. We went to see the film "Ray" at the Bloor Cinema and he passed out and slept through the entire movie. He phoned me at about 1:30 a.m. to apologize.

We tried to meet again a couple of times, but he never showed up.

He had tried previously to kill himself. I had intervened and taken him to the hospital on one occasion. I had also helped get him out of jail when he got into a mess while holidaying in St. Eustatius once.

After he killed himself, she and I got together from time to time.

I hadn’t heard from her for quite a while, but I sent an email to her husband about a week before she hung herself on her back deck.

Apparently, she left no note, but had been suffering from insomnia and anxiety.

The memorial was held while I was away in England.

While I was in London I saw an exhibition of the work of John Everett Millais at the Tate Britain. His romanticized image of Ophelia after she killed herself is shown below.


These are not the first friends I've known who have killed themselves.

A long time ago, when I lived in Ottawa and was in Grade 8, a friend killed himself while sniffing glue.

CEMETERY OUTSIDE ALL SAINTS CHURCH

This church in Maidstone was built in 1395, but the site has had a church on it since 650. I am not sure of the age of these tombstones in the pictures because the dates are worn off.





Construction on St. Mary's Church in Chiddingstone began in the 13th Century.





CEMETERY NEAR ORANGEVILLE

I went to this cemetery in May of this year. It is outside a village near Orangeville, Ont.

Queues and exits at the film festival

Today was tough because I had a very early 9 a.m. screening of David Cronenberg's Eastern Promises followed by a 2:30 p.m. screening of Roger Spottiswoode's Shake Hands with the Devil.


Eastern Promises was shown at Ryerson University. There was a densely packed line up of people penned inside crowd-control fences outside when I arrived.

The film started half an hour late. Cronenberg made an appearance to introduce the film.


"What are you doing here?!" he said to the audience in jest because of the early start time. "This is the premiere of this film at this time of day."

The film had its gala premiere opening last night.

He also said that this is the first time he's made a film entirely shot outside of Canada.

Eastern Promises revolves around the story of a woman who dies in childbirth at Trafalgar Hospital in London. It is an urban gangster film about Russians in London--an interesting twist to the genre at a time when west and east seem to be reigniting a Cold War.

Although the film does not specifically make reference to the Alexander Litvinenko affair--Litvinenko was a former FSB officer who died in London last year from radiation poisoning--it shows aspects of the secret underworld of international espionage and gangster activity. The Russian gang is involved in trading heroin from Afghanistan.

In Eastern Promises, Cronenberg deploys elements of the urban gangster film that hearken back to Mervyn LeRoy's 1931 classic Little Caesar, including a strong subtext of homosexuality and impotence.

It also includes Cronenbergesque scenes of over-the-top gore and exaggerated caricatures that delighted the audience. Squeals and groans were heard throughout the auditorium at various particularly grisly points in the film.

GRAND EXIT

After the film, getting out of the theatre was a challenge: It was even more difficult to get out than it was to get in.

I wanted to take the usual shortcut across the Ryerson University Kerr Hall Quadrangle after leaving the screening because I was headed to points southwest of the theatre. However, in order to do so, I had to hastily and stealthily remove several crowd-control fences and squeeze between large oil drum-like containers to make my escape. I think I made a gracious, if illicit, departure from Ryerson considering the circumstances and didn't notice any angry staffers in pursuit.


I had been caught the previous evening trying (oh horrors) to get out the "in" door at the Elgin Theatre and was chastised by front-of-house staff.


After lunching at Eggspectation on Yonge Street with a Facebook friend I once again joined the queue outside the Elgin for Shake Hands with the Devil.

POWER OF VISA

I was with a friend for this screening. We were told that the platinum and gold Visa card advance entry privileges do not apply for films that begin before 6 p.m.

After the screening I buttonholed the front-of-house manager to discuss the procedure for platinum and gold Visa card holders. It turns out that those in possession of the cards are allowed to enter the theatre up to an hour and a half ahead of time. They are entitled to use a lounge where they are given complimentary "things" including Lindt chocolates, she said, and then escorted into the theatre before anyone else so they can choose their seats.

Once inside the Elgin, I made a dash for the balcony and my friend made a dash for the orchestra. I phoned her and we consulted from our respective seats on which was the best location. She felt she would be too close to the screen in the seventh row and came upstairs.

RWANDA FILM

Producer, director and cast all traipsed out on stage to introduce the film, which tells the story of former Canadian General Romeo Dallaire and the U.N. mission he headed in Rwanda in 1993.


The film focuses more on the story of the Rwandan genocide than Dallaire's ability to cope emotionally with the situation, although the film is based on his autobiography. The cinematography is dark and there are titles to explain where and when the action is occurring from time to time.

The film got a standing ovation as did a surprise visit from Dallaire as the credits were rolling.


"This film is part of a campaign to never let the Rwandan genocide be forgotten," Dallaire said. "I believe we have entered an era more evil than the colonial era."

Then--completely unrelated to the film festival--on the way home, there was an unusual sighting on the subway.

Tales from the film festival queue

Today I saw two films at the Toronto International Film Festival.

Altogether I bought tickets to see 10 films during the festival:

Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg)
Shake Hands With the Devil (Roger Spottiswoode)
Chacun son cinema (35 directors)
Useless (Jia Zhang-Ke)
Paranoid Park (Gus Van Sant)
No Country for Old Men (Ethan and Joel Coen)
A Thousand Years of Good Prayers (Wayne Wang)
Le voyage du ballon rouge (Hou Hsaio-hsien)
It's a Free world... (Ken Loach)
Short Cuts Canada Programme (various)

The procedure for buying the tickets had to be done in stages and was very complicated.

Although I have tickets, it is still necessary to queue up outside the various theatres for at least 45 minutes before each film to get a good seat and prevent the festival from reselling the ticket.

Today I saw Chacun son cinema and No Country for Old Men at the Elgin Theatre on Yonge Street.

The line up for Chacun son cinema was uneventful. I heard later in the day that the film wasn't very well attended so the balcony in the 1,200-seat theatre wasn't opened to the public.


The rake of the orchestra level is not steep enough to see over heads in front properly for film screenings--especially if there are subtitles.

Chacun son cinema is a collection of three-minute films by 35 directors from various parts of the world. Jane Campion's dark and sinister contribution is the only one made by a woman.

These snippet films give spectators a good understanding of how the world's most accomplished directors can play with and manipulate the medium.

Most of the stories use elements of cinematic tradition to highlight characteristic aspects of movie going. Thus, the film in its entirety--which was made to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the Cannes film festival--has appeal for both film aficionados and standard movie audiences.

The directors make many references to films which are considered among the most important in film history for their technological and artistic innovation.

Three such films are Workers leaving the Lumiere Factory directed by Auguste and Louis Lumiere in 1895, The Rules of the Game directed by Jean Renoir in 1939 and 8 1/2 directed by Frederico Fellini in 1963.

But equally important is that the film provides an example of the way watching films on a mobile phone--a fairly recent technological innovation with a potentially huge impact on spectatorial viewing conditions--could become successful and satisfying in a three-minute format with the right director in charge.

David Cronenberg stars in his three-minute film, which is titled "At the Suicide of the Last Jew in the World in the Last Cinema in the World". It's a commentary on the--at times--absurd coverage of breaking news on television.


QUEUE MAYHEM

There was chaos in the queue outside the Elgin this evening before the screening of No Country for Old Men directed by Ethan and Joel Coen. I got into line about 45 minutes before the 6 p.m. start time. About 15 minutes later I noticed another queue forming alongside mine. I asked a film festival volunteer why it was formed. He said it was for people with special tickets and platinum or gold Visa cards.


About 10 minutes after that, I discovered that it wasn't for people with special tickets, but that it was for people with platinum or gold Visa cards.

It wasn't fair that the rules weren't made clear from the outset. Some people were able to benefit by trading places with those who had been told that the line-up privileges were for people with any kind of Visa card. However, it also meant that some people got booted from spots that were quite far up in the line because they didn't have a card.

Unfortunately, my spot in the line did not give me a clear view of the celebrities who showed up to the delight of fans massed against barricades across from the entrance to the theatre. I shot a few Hail Marys with my very unsuitable camera, but came up with pictures of unknown cops and people.

BALCONY SEATING

I decided to sit the balcony for the Coen brothers screening. A huge amount of seats had been reserved for Visa dignitaries of some sort who never showed up. The seats were later released so that "regular" people could sit in them.

The Coens and a large number of cast members were on hand for the screening, but the brothers only introduced the talent and said nothing else about the film.

Not surprisingly, the narrative of No Country for Old Men is laced with bizarre coincidences and acts of violence. It has all the familiar auteurist qualities of a Coen brothers film. The extent of the unrestricted narration makes it difficult to stick with and identify with any single character.