Some of you may have heard of the notorious Starbuckle coffee parlour in the artist's district near the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Vermont Boulevard in Los Angeles. Recently, it was pointed out to M. Chariot that the Starbuckle Family own more than one shop, though I have no… Read full post »

I was trying to impress her by saying something about the political scene, and the expression on her face said "yet another American moron." French, beautiful, older, she had taken me for one last look at her extravagant Los Angeles home. "As an artist, I suspect you have an… Read full post »

_{· The Finical Filmgoer ·}

On a recent evening my dear friend, the tenuous Mademoiselle Hysterique, appeared at mon petite domicile with a tiny pink box of assorted pastries and a tittery ecphonesis regarding a foreign film of recent discovery. Gathering her at the door, we settl… Read full post »

I don't know what creates the fretful tone here: the matrons, the young fashionistas, the management or the program on the television. On the flat screens, one can see beautiful, wild little animals snapping and clawing ineffectually at boisterous, teasing Australian animal enthusiasts… Read full post »

_{· The Finical Filmgoer ·}

On Thursday last, I invited my close friends, the penetrating Monsieur Objectif, the somewhat tenuous Mademoiselle Hysterique and an artistic young married couple, the charming if a bit vert Monsieur et Madame Frisson, to my tiny flat for a viewing o… Read full post »

_{· The Finical Filmgoer ·}

I invited my dear neighbor, the penetrating Monsieur Objectif — composer, gentleman gardener and friend — to my bachelor pad for a light repast and a screening of the degenerate étude from Leos Carax, Pola X.

We dined on small bits… Read full post »

There lives in my neighborhood a notoriously alluring woman who owns a tiny, moveable storefront antiques shop. I say moveable, because it has been moved several times in the years I've lived here. Suddenly it will be gone, and just as suddenly it will reappear… Read full post »

Un Martini du Monsieur must be drunk alone!

- 1.5 ounces Martini red vermouth
- 1 dash absinthe
- 1 dash orange bitters

Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass.

Keep stirred with Quill Pen.

Deadly.

…

Meeting place for artists, writers, persons engaged in extramarital affairs, those with a fondness for rich desserts, musicians, whores, the laptop-dependent, feminist ladies, individuals vaguely connected to the movie industry bloviating on chit-chat thingamajigs, alcoholics, illustra… Read full post »

_{Whereupon witnessing the solid, unreproachable, camera-ready marriages of the political candidates, the author ruminates on his own untidy connubial past.}

As one thrice-divorced, M. Chariot knows something of the caprice of l'Amour, and hopes to spend not a little time blogiating on the subj… Read full post »

If there is one thing Monsieur Chariot cannot abide, it is sloppy pronunciation. And thus I flew into a rage on the Metro today, when the conductor announced "Los Angeles Convention Center, next stop. Staples Center, next stop."

And yet he pronounced… Read full post »

You're considered an intelligent person. Thoughtful. Well-spoken. Urbane. At social gatherings in your local Bohemia, when you speak, people appear to turn slightly, to put down their tea — to listen. At night in your little bed, in your heart, you wonder if perhaps you have something… Read full post »

On Sunday morn during the reprieve from our cheerful labors here at Open Salon, M. Chariot packed his tiny wooden easel and a selection of aquarelles, and then Metro'd a la plage for a bit of plein air — a style of painting developed in France in/… Read full post »

_{· The Finical Filmgoer ·}

Monsieur Chariot recently rented The Innocents, a favorite from 1961. If you love atmospheric, psychological horror and you haven't seen this classic, it is time to update the Netflix queue. The Innocents is based on Henry James' novella Turn Of The… Read full post »

_{· The Finical Filmgoer ·}

Directed by James Ivory from a book by Henry James and a screenplay by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala, The Golden Bowl presents the viewer with a marvelously layered and complex story of sexual passion and its relationship to character.

A charismatic but impecunious… Read full post »

Can anyone identify these famous cute images?

Boggling. I don't need to tell you I was in-a-word flamboozled. Room-spinning, hand-flapping dis-be-lief!

Monday morning found M. Chariot installed, as is my wont, on a threadbare, yellow brocade wingback before my tiny escritoire, quill pen at the ready. It was exactly 5 o'clock Ante Meri… Read full post »

As one who for the better part of the New Century has maintained a most rigid and unsentimental devotion to the Scientific Arts, M. Chariot has endured untold hours studying the likes of Nephrology, Qui Gong, Iris Diagnosis, Tibetan Astrology, Hair Chemistry — a vast range… Read full post »