Barfly by
Saddleback
"Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead."
For the uninitiated, Charles Bukowski (1920-1994) is something akin to the patron saint of the down and out bum, and like many an American jazz artist, he is held in much higher esteem in Europe than here in the States. Although he didn't run with the likes of Ginsberg and Kerouac, he is often associated with the Beats for the immediacy of his writing and its lack of concern with formal structure. His life was the stuff of legend; a good example of his wild ways can be found in John G. Hill's account of two encounters with Bukowski in the late '60s, called The Ugliest Man in Town. (Be forewarned, the narrative is NOT for delicate sensibilities.) Wanda: "I can't stand people. I hate them. Do you hate them? Henry: "No, but I seem to feel better when they're not around." There's nothing pretty about this film; it's often brutal and raw. This was my third look at Barfly, directed by Barbet Schroeder and presented by Francis Ford Coppola. It was Bukowski's only screenplay (he was mostly known for his novels, poems and short stories), and I found its derelict depiction of the seamy underbelly of society to be every bit as hypnotic as the first viewing. Not for the faint-of-heart or the queasy stomach, it’s a semi-autobiographical account of his early years as a writer. The two main characters, Henry Chinaski (Mickey Rourke) and Wanda Wilcox (Faye Dunnaway), are "immersed in an effort to escape the embalmed method of living which grips most of American society," according to the author. "It is that fearful desire to continue to exist at any cost, their lives or anybody else's. Henry and Wanda refuse to accept the living death of acquiescence. This film is a focus on their brave madness." (Bukowski appears briefly as a bar patron at The Kenmore early in the film when Chinaski first meets Wanda.) Wanda: "Don't you hate cops?" Henry: "No, but I seem to feel better when they're not around."
OK, so I'm exaggerating, but there's something about this fruit bomb monster that ain't quite right. I remember ordering some of this at the little winery on Money Lane in Oakville two and a half years ago; at the time, it was showing even more big, bright overripe fruit than the '96 Saddleback Zinfandel. It's all sweet oak/red currant/black cherry/raspberry in both bouquet and flavor, with only hints of any of the darker cassis notes that one normally associates with Cabernet Sauvignon. The huge fruit overshadows some tannins that still remain to be resolved, but there's enough acidity to keep it lively right on through the fairly long finish.
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