I've been getting a lot of questions/requests regarding possible streams and thought it might be helpful to catalog everything we've watched so far! I'll keep it pinned and updated moving forward.
Longtime crowd favorites (streamed at least three times) are marked with a single asterisk.
Why isn’t [specific actor/video] on this list?
The video is currently marked not for trade.
We haven’t gotten to it yet.
The footage does not exist or is too incomplete.
It isn't on a platform I can stream it from.
There's something particularly off-putting about the video or actor.
How can I get a copy of a video listed here?
There's a list of publicly available bootlegs here, and there are many other adaptations on the Phantom Retrospective channel. Otherwise, contact @glassprism (or another trader) for a possible trade, or check her website for info on which master(s) to contact.
For general stream info, please see the Saturday Streams FAQ.
On to the list!
Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera
1988 Broadway: Michael Crawford, Sarah Brightman, Steve Barton
1989 Broadway: Cris Groenendaal, Rebecca Luker, Steve Barton
1989 Los Angeles: Michael Crawford, Dale Kristien, Steve Barton
1990 Los Angeles: Michael Crawford, Mary D’Arcy, Reece Holland
1991 Los Angeles: Michael Crawford, Dale Kristien, Michael Piontek
1993 U.S. Tour: Franc D’Ambrosio, Tracy Shayne, Ciaran Sheehan
1993 Vienna: Alexander Goebel, Luzia Nistler, Alfred Pfeifer*
Doctor Who: The Ultimate Speedrun Marathon - 1996 TV Movie
Ok, I was warned this one was basically locked behind endless streaming paywalls or was otherwise just lost media. I was a little discouraged, so I was ready to just crack on with Series 1, but then I found the whole damn thing on YouTube. Lucky!
youtube
General Thoughts
Paul McGann was a ton of fun as the 8th Doctor! He was obviously having a ton of fun in the role, which I’m sure he must have been a fan of. He’s since retuned to the role in cameo appearances and such years later, so his infectious love of the material is apparent. I’m not sure if he was aware that his tenure as the Doctor would be relatively short, but he really makes the most of it. I also love his look! It’s a fun missing link from the campier looks of the OG Doctors into the more modern/tactical looks of the modern Doctors. I also liked the detail that his clothes were basically just a Halloween costume he stole after he woke up from his regeneration. Really clever.
Speaking of his regeneration, it was fun to see Sylvester McCoy return for an extended cameo as the 7th Doctor. I haven’t seen his Seasons yet, but I was familiar with him from The Hobbit and Sense8, so I really just like him as an actor. He’s also evidently having a lot to fun here, despite only about 20 minutes of screen time. As a newer fan, I’d say this is a great introduction to the fun of the Doctor’s personality and purpose in the modern era, as well as carrying the torch from the OGs.
I was really surprised by the setting being 1999 San Francisco, considering this is a pretty famously Anglo-centric show. It must have been a fun breath of fresh air at the time for fans, but I also enjoyed it as a new fan. It had a fun ‘90s neo-noir vibe to it that ‘90s England or some fictional future realm maybe couldn’t have gotten cross just right. (Also, idk if this is canonically the Doctor’s first visit to America, but I just found it funny that as soon as he steps out of the TARDIS onto American soil for the first time, he gets shot.)
Moving onto the Doctor’s companion this time around, we’ve got Daphne Ashbrook as Dr. Grace Holloway. She’s smart and resourceful and overall just really cool. An underrated companion, in my opinion. Her introduction in this movie is probably one of my favorite things about the franchise so far! She’s first referred to in the story as “Amazing Grace” by a fellow surgeon, followed by her having to rush into the 7th Doctor’s surgery straight from an opera house, all while still wearing her gown. Iconic.
Her relationship with the Doctor and her chemistry with Paul McGann is a ton of fun. They’re (for the most part) intellectually matched, so it’s fun to see the Doctor have a literal Dr to bounce off of. I do wish she had accepted the supernatural sci-fi truth of it all a bit sooner, cuz her having to come to terms with that takes up a good chunk of the runtime, but once she’s in the thick of it, she’s able to carry her weight. Also, idk if this is correct so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but Grace and the 8th Doctor appear to be the only Doctor/companion pair that are romantic with one another. idk how this aspect is liked among the fans, but I personally didn’t mind it. They’re quite cute together, so you really root for them.
Now for the villain. I know nothing of the Master so far, aside from the obvious that he’s an evil Time Lord who can also regenerate, albeit not as successfully, since the conflict of the movie is the Master trying to steal the Doctor’s lives after he uses up his own. I thought he was cool enough, and as a horror fan, his wormy-possession form reminded me a lot of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday. I assume he’ll return as a big bad later on, but he’s a little one note here. He gets the job done, and Eric Roberts is obviously having a lot of fun chewing the evil scenery.
Favorite Moments
The Doctor’s little “these shoes fit perfectly!” was cute lol
Just one look at my blog will show anyone that I’m a massive Frankenstein fan, so the parallels drawn between the monster’s reanimation to the Doctor’s regeneration was super cool. Paul McGann also plays it really big! His “Who am I?!” dramatic moment after he comes back to life is classic monster-movie cool. Very Boris Karloff of him.
The one hospital orderly reacting to the 7th Doctor’s body disappearing by saying “You think he got up and went to a better HOSPITAL???” was so fucking funny oh my god
The look of the TARDIS’ interior appears to be carried over from how it looked for the 7th Doctor, but it fits the 8th Doctor so well. It’s like a gothic mansion, which just clicks so well with 8’s overall vibe.
The setting being at the direct turn of the millennium into Y2K was genius! It was sooo sooo cool I loved it
Paul McGann and Daphne Ashbrook are sexy as hell I need them so bad
Overall, Doctor Who 1996 is a fun and stylish entry! Highly recommend for those who haven’t seen it yet.
Now, that’s it for the 8th Doctor for the time being. Onto the modern era show, starting with Christopher Eccleston taking the reigns as #9.
San Francisco Opera releases historic audio recordings
For its centennial celebrations, San Francisco Opera @SFOpera announces 'Streaming the First Century', a project offering free access to historic recordings.
1932 La Traviata, with Richard Bonell, Gaetano Merola, Claudia Muzio, Armando Agnini, Dino Borgioli, photo by Mortor
As part of its centennial celebrations, San Francisco Opera has released the first instalment of Streaming the First Century, a project offering free access to historic recordings.
The new online hub at sfopera.com/firstcentury features recordings from the company’s past, along…
At one point a week and a half ago, we were all in California. Linzy was in the San Francisco Bay area. We were in Irvine, about an hour south of Los Angeles.
For Linzy, the time away served as a much appreciated break before two big concerts this month, the first coming this Saturday for The Little Lies who're appearing at the Old Edmonds Opera House... and the second happening less than a week later, the following Thursday. It's another biggie, the debut performance for the band Midnight High in support of their album, Avenue, an album one reviewer describes like this:
"Avenue features shimmering 80's synths that you'd expect to see in a Madonna record or even featured on the Stranger Things soundtrack, before contrasting them with a fuzzy electric guitar. The drums have an irresistible forward motion, keeping the energy at high octane levels with their lush harmonies providing an electrifying boost alongside them." @a1234music
On stage, Linzy will be on one of those synths and is part of the lush harmonies. She spent the better part of March in rehearsals and prep... all alongside her daily professional work.
So that month. Was full. And a little re-energizing with friends in San Francisco in-between March and April was just the ticket.
For us, we weren't looking at our trip as a break from anything. It simply fell into a space where our schedule overlaps Kimmer's cousin's schedule. As such, the timing has no special significance other than it's always a great time no matter where in the year it falls.
It wasn't intended as a break is my point. It wasn't meant to wall off before from after. After all, before would take care of itself. It would simply continue on the other side of our trip as is usually the case.
However.
We actually launched out of our trip into something different. A different schedule for sure. And some decisions made on the road that we're putting in play now.
So.
The trip did wind up being a break, a good opportunity to course correct a little, firm up the picture going into the coming months that's definitely a different picture than the one we had before our trip.
Funny how that worked out.
But also fortunate that we got some time away.. and within that time away took the opportunity to consider the life we're crafting whilst not actively in the rushing stream of our daily lives.
San Francisco Opera Releases Streaming the First Century: Session 1
San Francisco Opera Releases Streaming the First Century: Session 1
Stock photo
As part of its centennial celebrations, San Francisco Opera today released the first installment of Streaming the First Century. The new online hub at sfopera.com/firstcentury provides free access to selected historic recordings from the Company’s distinguished past, along with rare artist interviews, archival photographs, program articles, oral history excerpts and newly captured…
I want to make a million Krasteva Eboli gifs but I’m too tired and won’t be able to before the video gets taken down so here are some more screencaps instead
When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery. Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white. I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King. I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images. I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.) It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.) But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them. Google was no help, and at the time that was that.
I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house. I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.) I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon. Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky. I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant. I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway. Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment. I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.
Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone. Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody. Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.
The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else. If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it. Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.
I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college. I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest. The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link. Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.
The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards. They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???” (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.) When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.
Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches. Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively. Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find. The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.
The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits. Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on. Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano. Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory. Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes. Is she mourning? Is she longing?
Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King! Not on us!” She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.
Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz. The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color. The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips. It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits. The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others. It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.
Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance. Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask. The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask. Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged. As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd. I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint. Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.
By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock. It does not hide her for long. The King steps towards her and extends his hand. Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand. They walk away together hand in hand. The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene. The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.
As I said, that’s what I think I understand. It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd. I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true. It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste. I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent. Naturally, no subscription site has it available. Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it. Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.
When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.) I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night. It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks. I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.
I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco. I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents. I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month. I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other. I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means. I don’t mind the nightmares. In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it. I’m being mindful. I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head. I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.
Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it. My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.
When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness. I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again. I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive. The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze. It sings to me.
I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it. During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.
Poetry Reading: Aja Couchois Duncan, Roberto Harrison, & Paolo Javier
Sat. Nov. 13 | 7 pm CDT | $Give What You Can | *HYBRID* In-person at Woodland Pattern and live streaming via Crowdcast.
Aja Couchois Duncan is a social justice coach and capacity builder of Ojibwe, French, and Scottish descent who lives on the ancestral and stolen land of the Coastal Miwok people. Her debut collection Restless Continent (Litmus Press, 2016) was selected by Entropy magazine as one of the best poetry collections of 2016 and awarded the California Book Award for Poetry in 2017. In 2020, Sweet Land—a collaborative opera project which brought together composers Raven Chacon and Du Yun, librettists Aja Couchois Duncan and Douglas Kearney, and co-directors Cannupa Hanska Luger and Yuval Sharon—was produced in the Los Angeles State Historic Park to critical acclaim. When not writing or working, Aja can be found running the west Marin hills with her Australian Cattle Dog Dublin, training with horses, or weaving small pine needle baskets. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from San Francisco State University and a variety of other degrees and credentials to certify her as human. Great Spirit knew it all along.
Roberto Harrison's poetry books include Tropical Lung: exi(s)t(s) (Omnidawn, 2021), Tropical Lung: Mitologia Panameña (Nion Editions, 2020), Yaviza (Atelos, 2017), Bridge of the World (Litmus Press, 2017), culebra (Green Lantern Press, 2016), bicycle (Noemi Press, 2015), Counter Daemons (Litmus Press, 2006), Os (subpress, 2006), as well as many chapbooks. With Andrew Levy, Harrison edited the poetry journal Crayon from 1997 to 2008. He is also the editor of Bronze Skull Press which has published over 20 chapbooks, including the work of many Midwestern poets. Most recently Harrison served as a co-editor for the Resist Much/Obey Little: Inaugural Poems to the Resistance anthology. He was the Milwaukee Poet Laureate for 2017-2019 and is also a visual artist. He lives in Milwaukee with his wife, the poet Brenda Cárdenas.
The former Queens Borough Poet Laureate (2010-2014), Paolo Javier was born in the Philippines and grew up in Las Piñas, Metro Manila; Katonah, Westchester County; El-Ma’adi, Cairo; Burnaby and North Delta, Metro Vancouver. He’s produced three albums of sound poetry with Listening Center (David Mason), including the limited edition pamphlet/cassette Ur’lyeh/ Aklopolis and the booklet/cassette Maybe the Sweet Honey Pours. The recipient of a 2021 Rauschenberg Foundation Artist Grant, his fifth full-length book of poetry, O.B.B.—a (weird postcolonial techno dream-pop) comics poem that also includes illustrations by Alex Tarampi and Ernest Concepcion—is just out from Nightboat Books.