The second of (currently) eleven Henri films, Henri 2, Paw de Deux remains our favorite encapsulation of pretentious ennui that we have yet to see. The first Henri short was made as a film project at the Seattle Film Institute by filmmaker William Braden, a former wedding videographer, who has since parlayed his series of Henri shorts into a book deal and TV commercials (for a cat food we would never feed out cat). Henri, by the way, is actually Henry, a former shelter cat and Seattle native that is by now in the twilight years.
In the same flavor as the video above, let us share with you another old chestnut that we go in the mail some years ago: Dog's Diary vs. Cat's
DOG DIARY
8:00 am - Dog food! Oh boy! My favorite!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! Oh boy! My favorite!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! Oh boy! My favorite!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! Oh boy! It's my favorite!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! Oh boy! My favorite!
CAT DIARY
Day 983.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow — but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released — and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously on their side. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe... at least for now.
Lastly, let us not forget the terrors of: Kitler!
DOG DIARY
8:00 am - Dog food! Oh boy! My favorite!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! Oh boy! My favorite!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! Oh boy! My favorite!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! Oh boy! It's my favorite!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! Oh boy! My favorite!
CAT DIARY
Day 983.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards! There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage. Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow — but at the top of the stairs. I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released — and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously on their side. The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe... at least for now.
Lastly, let us not forget the terrors of: Kitler!
No comments:
Post a Comment