I really love Jane Birkin, I probably first saw her on a Yardley commercial as a kid. She shows up in such films as Blow Up, The Knack and How To Get It, and this oddball flick which I've provided a clip from: Je'Taime Moi No Plus, a movie directed by Serge Gainsborough, her husband and producer of her records at the time. It is a 90 minute meditation on watching his wife being sodomized by Warhol Superstar Little Joe Dallesandro. A more peculiar movie I've never seen. There was a much better (sexier) clip on Youtube but it was taken recently removed. You can buy a French copy of the DVD on Amazon.
These days Jane still makes records, acts and does charity work all over the world.
Brigitte Bardot has intrigued me since childhood. She never made a Hollywood movie.
Some say she never made a good movie, but I love Roger Vadim's And God Created Woman and Godard's Contempt, in both flix she basically plays herself. If ever a woman was born to be described as feline it is Bebe. Brigitte Bardot has survived three suicide attempts. Now retired she spends her time helping furry quadrupeds
Gillian McCain is the co-author (with Legs McNeil) of Please Kill Me: The Oral History Of Punk (Grove Press. 1996), the best book on punk rock ever written. She's also authored several volumes of prose poetry: Tilt (Hard Press, 1997), Religion (The Figures,1999), even made a record with Alan Vega and Ric Ocasek called Getchertiktz. She is currently
working on three or maybe five, book projects.
I would have been dead many years ago had I not met her.
BTW there's a funny picture of me and my old pal Ike Turner on Eric "Roscoe" Ambel's blog (click the Knucklehead link on the right), I believe the photo was taken by Bob Gruen at Tramps around '97.
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3 comments:
Alright! Enough of the book and music reviews! BB and Jane!
Way to go!
PS: "Please Kill Me" was a I-can't-put-it-down book.
Gillian, on the remote chance you ever decide to give The Hound the heave-ho, I'm single.
Dear Mr. Hound,
I may have been aware of Jane Birkin for 40 years. (I've watched "Blow Up" a number of times, I vaguely recall the Yardley commercials, "Je T'aime" is burned into my auditory memory, etc.)
Not until this past week have I come to appreciate her utter physical beauty in the '60s. This appreciation has brought me to your blog. It's comforting to know that there's another in the world who shares my sense of the archetype of the ideal female physique.
Viewing just a few shots of Jane from long ago has awakened in me a sort of out-of-body sensation. I find myself wanting to "meet" that Jane. This is not an idle and impossible fantasy, but a new sense of my essential being.
Just a few Janepix have connected me profoundly with - what? - the purpose of my DNA. It may be fashionable to speak of one's role in this life in terms of manly achievement, but I now know otherwise - with utter certainty.
I want to ask Jane, "What is the meaning of life?", listen to her answer, believe it with the conviction of the convert, then shuffle off this mortal coil in short order, assured of the eternity of my being.
Men are born men for a reason, I suppose. I was born because there is Jane.
Rick
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