I've been writing DVD liner notes for a number of years, and they always are a unique challenge. Somehow, one has to fill up a certain amount of space with text that is informative and hopefully interesting. The past year I've been busy doing liners for BCI's Deimos line of Paul Naschy and Spanish horror DVDs, and as these appear as foldout six pagers, there's much that can be written, if I like. I'm not mandated to write a certain length, but I have a goal of at least a thousand words. The reality is that once I get going, I proceed much further than that, nearing the two thousand mark on occasion. At times, these liners write themselves--meaning, the ideas and background information flow freely. At other times, at the beginning, I wonder how I will be about to write one hundred words, let alone a thousand or two. Both scenarios presented themselves with the liners I am finishing off now, both for Naschy films--HUMAN BEASTS and BLUE EYES OF THE BROKEN DOLL. It may be a case of burn-out, but I just didn't know what I could write about BLUE EYES OF THE BROKEN DOLL. I felt that HUMAN BEASTS would be the easier of the two, as I knew I would want to write about Naschy's involvement with Japan and Japanese capital. But even then, there would be serious work ahead. Well, as it turned out, while mulling over the BLUE EYES "angle," I had an inspiration of just what I wanted to do with the piece, and now I've more text on BLUE EYES, the supposed difficult assignment, and less on HUMAN BEASTS. No matter. I am thankful for the burst of inspiration, wherever it comes from, wherever it goes.
Today (Sunday), I managed to get one more detail into my HUMAN BEASTS liners: the English translation of the Japanese title of the video release. I went to St. Mark's Place, here in Manhattan, which nowadays has been taken over by Japanese food shops, restaurants and sushi bars, and many Asian kids, not all of them Japanese. I thought I would have an easy time of it, and with a copy of the Japanese cover of HUMAN BEASTS, I approached several store clerks... to find that none knew how to read Japanese! Either they were almost too young to care about ever learning the language, except maybe in talking it with their parents, or they were not Japanese. Disappointed, I made my way home, determined to stop in one last place--a Japanese restaurant on Second Avenue that was closer to home. I always see female waitresses there, so I was hesitant about going inside and showing the rather brutal and gory video cover. I still wasn't certain I would go through with my intention, when I saw a young Japanese guy cleaning up the floor near the entrance. So I rushed in before he could escape into the back and politely asked him if he would translate the writing on the cover. There was still a chance he wouldn't know either Japanese or English well enough to do the job, but he did it perfectly, adding that the film was in the horror genre, as his translation of the title was rendered with a little amused embarrassment. Thanking him "very much," I left the restaurant, but in turning a corner, I decided to go back and ask him to write down his name, as I wanted to acknowledge his help with a thanks at the end of the liner notes. And so, the translation of the Japanese title will appear in the liners, as will this young man's name.
So it goes. Piece by piece, these liners get filled up with factoids and research and some opinion. And it can take two hours of pursuing someone who reads Japanese, or two hours to translate an article in an old Spanish cinema magazine, for the gift of a single sentence.
