This sketch animation, on post-it notes, was made by Artur Jones. The audio is from a taped telephone conversation between Rodney Rothman, a writer, and his teenage flame Jessica. The complete transcript of the conversation can be found in the anthology Things I learned from the women who've dumped me, edited by Ben Karlin. Check here for Arthur Jones' excellent post-it note reading series.
Miranda July performing Things We Don't Understand And Definitely Are Not Going To Talk About . Performance took place in The Factory (2006), in New York City.
In 2006, Boris Dvornik and Velimir Bata Živojinović publicly reconciled on Croatian TV via a video link. Živojinović spoke from a hospital in Belgrade, where he awaited a heart surgery: "My dear Boris. Listen. I would give you my heart if it was worth anything... Can you hear me?... You can hear and see me? I can only hear you... and again my heart is full. You will see me. This is not so tragic and horrible as it is talked about. Many people did this operation before me and they are well. But I wish to see you. I wish for you to come the night before the operation, so that I can see you and that all this passes nicely and that we can continue to give eachother company like 50 years ago. At this occassion, I am giving my regards to you and all the viewers of your TV in Croatia and the whole nation in Croatia. I give my regards from my heart as this heart is. I have no better one." When asked how he would react upon finding Boris Dvornik at his hospital bed, Bata responded: "You see, I will recognize him, but I don't know what's up with me, I have somehow grown old, he will have a hard time recognizing me... I am afraid of strong emotions, they... in this moment I am trying to show as little as possible of my emotions, because a man in my years is given to tears. I will do my best not to raise tensions, because in this moment I need that least. I know best what I feel and how I will react once I see him... To endure this as men and heroes."
Young Velimir Bata Živojinović and Boris Dvornik, each a legendary Yugoslavian actor in his own right, the former a Serb and the latter a Croat, in the partisan film Sutjeska (1973). Before the war broke up Yugoslavia, Živojinović and Dvornik were best friends. In 1991, however, Boris Dvornik broke all ties with Velimir Bata Živojinović with a statement read to the public. "... Remember Brioni, Bato, and the late Tito. More than any of us actors, you were his guest... Nobody of us knew him as well as you, and I believe that he loved none of us actors as much as you. And now, suddenly, you blame him for the suffering of Serbs. You shouted and demanded in public that his photograph be taken off the walls of the Serbian assembly. Bato, others could do that, but you not. Maybe all the others. But you not. By acting in this way, you are spitting into your own face. And you shout at this same assembly that all Croats should be killed. Do you, Bato, not understand that this is no longer shooting a movie? These are no fakes, Bato, here they shoot with real ammunition... For thirty years, your telephone number has been written in my address book. Who should I now call after thirty years on this number? I understand now that during all these thirty years I was your friend for real, but you were my friend only on screen. We have destroyed bridges, Bato, railways, raised barricades, killed many enemies, but all this was only a movie. We shot that to warn the generations that something like that should never be repeated again. And what is this now? You chose the side of the shadow and blood, where the real killing is taking place. I used to know this person who unfortunately for me does not exist any longer. I would love it, Bato, if you realize that this is no longer a movie but reality, in which unfortunately the shooting of bullets takes place. Goodbye, Bato."
The legendary Velimir Bata Živojinović, a John Wayne of Yugoslav partisan movies, in an awarded Serbian film Pretty Village Pretty Flame (1996). The original title of the movie, Lepa sela lepo gore, more correctly reads as beautiful villages burn beautifully. Now themselves grown up, Šojka and Velizar from Sivi dom (Zoran Cvijanović and Nikola Kojo) fight the war of John Waynes.
Žarko Laušević, by far the most promising actor to come out of the Sivi dom young actors' pack. After his stunning performance as Šilja, he stole the hearts of producers and directors and collected the best roles. How come then that we lost track of him? In 1993, in Podgorica, at 33 years of age and drunk, Žarko Laušević fired a CZ-99 gun killing two people. Having spent several years in prison, he left for New York where he works on construction sites, eerily echoing Šilja's destiny. Sve što želim u ovom trenutku... The song is Sonja, an old Russian song of a murderer, imprisoned in Siberia, here performed by Tea Hodžić. The original track and the lyrics can be found here.
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