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If you’re an ALIVE reader, you know our mix and depth of material is extensive. We cover everything from music, gardening, finance, golf, automotive, cooking, beauty, film and fashion; to sports, travel, trivia, law, psychology and humor. Where else can you learn about the world of private investigations, facial cleansers, the Galopagos Islands and Honey-Glazed Butternut Squash Salad, all in a single issue of a magazine?

In addition to being regular contributors of features and columns in ALIVE, many of our writers, like Bob, Peggy, Harry, Trina, and Anita, are accomplished authors as well, having their own, highly acclaimed books in the marketplace. (Just do an author search on Amazon to find their books).

While ALIVE may have already cornered much of the writing talent in the East Bay, the fact is we live in an area rich in editorial expertise, so we thought it might be of interest to share a bit about the Indie Publishing industry. Beginning on page sixteen, you’ll read Anita Venezia’s first hand account of her experiences as a newly published author, attending a writer / publisher trade show. If you are an aspiring author, you don’t want to miss this piece!

And, speaking of aspiring authors and publishing … ALIVE is excited to announce our own upcoming launch into the world of book publishing, under the banners of ALIVE Publishing Group and ALIVE Book Publishing. With an “official” start date of April 2, 2012, ALIVE will begin offering comprehensive book publishing and marketing services to local authors.

Now, more than ever, if reading (and now writing) are your thing, you’ve come to the right place — ALIVE!

First off, we begin the year with an historic, important event. While it is controversial as many regard it’s timing as ill-conceived, the withdrawal of our troops from Iraq is reason for celebration, if only for the reason of once again uniting families that have been painfully and fearfully separated by war.

We must all hope and pray that the return of our troops is completed in an appropriate, successful way that will be honorable and long-standing. Our nation, the liberated people of Iraq, and the entire free world must recognize nothing less than an enormous obligation to the men and women returning, and more importantly to those who will not return, that the sacrifices they made will not have been made in vain.

Next, it is an election year, which brings the opportunity (and responsibility) to all citizens to support or oppose candidates and policies that impact us collectively and individually. Regardless of the candidate or position, just the fact that we have this opportunity reminds us to breathe in the air of positive expectation, and feel encouraged that we have another chance to do what we can to get things moving in the right direction.

I join the rest of our crew here at ALIVE in wishing you all the best in the New Year ahead. May you rejoice in what we hope are many positive, fond memories, and may you be empowered to shake off anything that might stand between you the joy that is yours for the taking!

The film stars Carlo Ljubek as Alexander (Sashko) and Miki Manojlovic as Alex’s grandfather, Bai Dan. The opening scene is Sashko’s birth in 1975, followed by a flash forward to today, where Sashko is a young man, riding in a car with his parents.

He sustains a life-altering injury as the automobile crashes. His parents are killed and he is struck with total amnesia, not remembering anything of his life or identity before the accident.

Defying the strict, disinterested and impersonal grip of the medical establishment’s institutional approach to Sashko’s treatment, his grandfather, Bai Dan, takes control of the situation and convinces his grandson to leave the hospital in order to join him in a mission to recover Sashko’s past.

Bai Dan happens to be a renowned backgammon champion, and the game he made for Sashko when he was only seven years old is the touchstone first employed to connect Sashko with his earlier life. The film uses flashbacks of Sashko’s childhood and his family’s dramatic struggle to emigrate from Bulgaria during the waning years of Soviet block domination as vehicles for revealing to Sashko the rich yet difficult odyssey that his life has traveled thus far.
With the expected warmth and gentleness of a grandfather, and a firmness of conviction and wisdom learned, having lived under the spectre of a totalitarian state, Bai Dan takes Sashka under his wing as the two embark on a tandem bicycle journey across Europe, from Germany, back to their roots in Bulgaria.

The film adeptly weaves the young man’s personal journey and struggle within the cultural and historic one that his parents and grandparents ultimately survived. As Sashko’s memories return, the grand story and import of his heritage is artfully portrayed through the story.

Throughout the film, Bai Dan offers a steady hand to both Sashko and the audience, often through his knowledge and life application as a backgammon sage, as he tells his grandson, “life is like the dice in our hands; fate is determined by the skill and luck of the player.”

The simplistic first impression of this film gives way to the realization of a more complex, rich storyline—the hallmark of well crafted cinematic expression. The performances are solid and believable and you are left feeling very good, indeed, at the end of this film. Four out of five stars — you won’t be disappointed!

In the spirit of the season, I believe it is long overdue that we recognize one particular group — one profession, to which it is no exaggeration to state that our entire system, indeed, our way of life, depends. Members of this profession have been mocked and maligned — the butt of numerous jokes — for as long, I would say, as relationships between people have existed.

Like anyone who has lived and worked for more than a “few” decades, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and work with a vast numbers of individuals of different professions; many with impressive resumes that include advanced degrees in their particular field — engineers, lawyers, doctors, accountants, educators, psychologists…you get the idea. By their accomplishment in earning their various professional ranks, by definition, all of these individuals have achieved “success.”

And yet, without exception, the degree to which these individuals have been able to use their advanced, specialized knowledge and training in productive ways has always been dependent upon other skills that, to my knowledge, are not included in any curricula of the aforementioned professions.

I am referring, if you haven’t already guessed, to the profession of sales. The act of “selling,” is a relational skill — many would say an art—which everyone possesses in some measure. Every job applicant must “sell” their prospective employer as to why they should get the job as opposed to other applicants, and when your group of friends decide which restaurant you’ll visit for your Friday night gathering, the one you go to will likely be determined by the individual with the most persuasive argument.

While we all possess a measure of sales ability, some have chosen sales to be their vocation — to sales “professionals” it is their passion. The fact is, professional sales people comprise much of the membrane between what is and what will be, as it is through effective selling that every new idea is advanced.

Sales professional ought to be appreciated and held in high esteem. So this holiday season, I pay a special tribute and thanks to sales professionals everywhere. You make all of our lives better for the work you do every day.

Active and inquisitive, Mirco is a typical boy, ever willing to challenge authority. One afternoon, after playing with friends, Mirco returns home to repair a broken toy and is distracted by the forbidden fruit of his father’s shotgun hanging high on the wall, well beyond Mirco’s reach. But parental securing of the gun is no challenge for Mirco, as he climbs up to take it and the inevitable happens.

The accident leaves Mirco partially blind, only able to discern shadows. As Italian law does not allow blind children to attend regular public schools, and Mirco’s heartbroken parents cannot afford a private tutor, Mirco is sent to a well known Catholic boarding school / institution for the blind, in Genoa.

The school’s stern headmaster (Norman Mozzato), also blind, has apparently discovered the ideal solution for finding “appropriate, productive” lifestyles for these young boys he considers hopelessly handicapped. As his own life’s dreams and ambitions apparently died along with his eyesight, so too must it be for everyone else. There is no place for the “luxury” of creative expression, in the world of the blind.

But Mirco has other ideas. And while he has some difficulty in adjusting at first, we soon learn it is not a bitterness for his being blind that troubles him, but for the attempts of others to stifle his inner passion and creative spirit. What first appears as an understandable anger becomes revealed, simply, as the yearning of the creative soul seeking an outlet for expression.

Mirco befriends another boy named Felice (Simone Gulli) who has been blind since birth. In one poignant scene we glimpse that Mirco has some unique gift for capturing and communicating the essence of reality, transcending visual blindness by describing colors to his new friend. “Blue is like riding your bike and the wind hits you in the face,” Mirco tells his new friend, and “Red is like fire. Like the sky at sunset.”

The persistence of Mirco’s creative energy becomes focused, as he discovers a reel-to-reel tape recorder and soon, teaches himself how to use it. He learns a new way to bring his imaginations to life by telling stories with recorded sounds. When Mirco’s teacher, Don Giulio (Paolo Sassanelli) assigns an essay about the four seasons to be written in Braille, Mirco follows his own path and creates a recording that tells the story. Don Giulo recognizes the boy’s genius, but the headmaster, of course tries to deny and extinguish the Mirco’s blossoming, creative e spirit.

Mirco attracts the attention of a girl, Francesca (Francesca Maturanza), who becomes a collaborator in his audio fabrications, and it isn’t long before their exciting new activities enchant the other children in the school, even the class bully, Valerio (Andrea Gussoni).

The film follows a predictable path, as the mean-spirited headmaster tries to maintain order, but Don Giulo rises to champion Mirco’s cause, and the children perform for their parents in an “ear opening,” watershed performance. While it may come off as bit simplistic, its impact is enhanced by the fact that the film is based upon the true life story of the award-winning, Italian sound editor, Mirco Mencacci.

Produced and directed by Cristiano Bortone, Rosso Come il Cielo (Red Like the Sky) is a delightful, must-see film by any standard. Its well crafted cinematography and artful directing make it visually rich, and all of the roles are superbly acted. Without a shred of hesitation, it is five out of five, very solid stars for this film!

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Sometimes, I find myself shaking my head and chuckling at what appear to be mere antics of what surely must be just a few, confused, ignorant individuals. Then, I worry that these may really be well-meaning, otherwise intelligent people who sincerely believe in what they are doing.

As a rule, we don’t include much that is controversial in ALIVE, but what I see happening today troubles me to where I am compelled to share my point of view.

I fear that, as a nation, we are on the verge of major trouble, not so much for my generation, but for our children and the generations to come. The “Occupy Wall Street” movement is a foreshadowing of this trouble, as it demonstrates an attitude and way of thinking that is destructive to the very fabric and fiber of our nation.

We face tremendous economic and geo-political challenges today, but underlying these are social and cultural issues that many seem content to ignore, for fear of being cast as “intolerant,” or “politically incorrect.” And the fact that many self-serving, egomaniacal politicians are willing to pander to what they apparently have calculated to be blocks of voters, fanning flames of discontent by pitting groups against one another, is nothing less than shameful. Division, dependency and weakness are being encouraged, rather than resolve, strength and self-reliance. Our citizens are being led to believe that the people are to depend upon and serve the government, when it is the other way around.

The apparent widespread acceptance of the notion that when some people achieve success others have somehow been denied, should be soundly condemned as the fallacy it is. But that is not the case. The fact that Steve Jobs worked to accumulate tremendous wealth over his lifetime, in no way caused others to live in doorways throughout American cities. In fact, it is only by the efforts of wealth creators, like Jobs, that the so called “ninety-nine percent” have any hope at all of changing their material condition. If Warren Buffet, Ted Turner and Bill Gates want to be considered for sainthood, they’ve always had the choice to give their capital to the needy. But the fact is, as anyone who understands how capitalism works knows, they could probably help far greater numbers of people by using their resources to create new business ventures.

When I was about twelve years old, my uncle, Wayne, said something that has stayed with me. He said, “Someday there is going to be a revolution in this country, but it won’t be the kind of revolution we are used to reading about in history books. Someday, the producers of the world will revolt against the non-producers.” Kill the goose that lays the golden egg and all you have is no more eggs.

The Occupy Wall Street movement is an embarrassing display that serves no purpose toward making our citizens or economy stronger. Each one of the self-proclaimed “99%” should consider what life would be like if the one percent decided that camping in the public square was the best use of their time.

It is a tale created to depict an historical incident—a massacre of innocent civilians—that occurred during the later stages of World War II, in a mountain village near the Italian City of Bologna. Known as the Massacre of Mazabotto, it was a heinous war crime of particular brutality, in that of the over 700 people murdered, many were women, the elderly and children.

The film’s Director and Writer, Giorgio Diritti, adeptly captures the innocence, earthiness and simplicity of a people who, although apparently struggling for basic needs, seem set apart from the rest of the world’s troubles. The portrayal of the basic day-to-day peasant’s existence seems somehow appealing and comfortable at first. But this all changes.

The film is recounted primarily through the eyes of a young girl, Martina (Greta Zuccheri Montanari), who does not speak. The story gradually unfolds as Martina’s mother, Lena (Maya Sansa), is expecting another child.

The surrounding conflict that rages in the rest of the world is presented by mere hints at first, as we learn of the increasing bombing of the neighboring city of Bologna, and are introduced to a band of local underground resistance fighters, opposed to the Italian Fascists and their Nazi allies.

Martina has no understanding of who these foreign soldiers are or why they occasionally visit their village, buying eggs, wine and bread. “Why aren’t they at home with their own children?” she muses. Diritti masterfully blends scenes in ways that captivate, drawing you in through the eyes of a child. In one scene, Martina awakens in the middle of the night to a soft, distant sound of an airplane passing, high above. She peers out the window to witness the silent, ethereal fall of parachutes. The scene has a surreal quality that is altogether beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

The audience’s exposure to and realization of impending horror increases along with Martina’s. Stark, graphic reality assaults the audience just as it destroys the young girls’ last remnant of innocence, as she witnesses a captured Nazi soldier, forced to dig his own grave, then coldly executed.      

The intensity of the film progresses, as the rebels’ agitations cause the Nazi intruders to over-react, eventually striking out with the mass murder of the innocent villagers. Martina becomes the conduit of hope for humanity, as she saves her infant brother from the tragedy. It is the infant child who will be the Man Who Will Come, as his life represents the survival of their people and a future of peace.                    

The film is extraordinary in its realistic portrayal of how common people, with no apparent political interest or ambition, are easily snared in the carelessly constructed, destructive webs of war, only to have their lives senselessly destroyed. Because of its historical context, the film well serves in reminding us that the kind of brutality and moral vacuum that permitted the atrocities we see in the The Man Who Will Come, are still very real and, unfortunately, the case, in many parts of our world today.     

It was appropriate that our nation collectively recognized the tenth anniversary of the September 11^th tragedy. The official dedication of the Ground Zero Memorial and the many ceremonies that paid homage were befitting as well. It is important that the date of September 11 always be a date of remembrance.

Yet, this is now October—so why are we running a story related to September 11^th in this issue of ALIVE?

The answer lies in the fact that while 9/11 was a horrendous and tragic event, for most of us, it was just that — an event; one that can be properly observed, once a year, to then be forgotten for another year. We are able to suppress, delay or “compartmentalize” the mixed feelings of anger, fear, and heartbreak that that terrible day evokes, for those of us old enough to remember it.

But what of the families of the victims? What about the first responders who were there, who witnessed 9/11—who performed and served under the most dreadful of circumstances? Men and women who lost close friends and co-workers. For these, 9/11 marks a date in time with an entirely different meaning.

We are honored to include in this issue, in an exclusive story by Anita Venezia (page 16), the eye-witness account of retired New York Fireman, Sean Hickey, who was one of the first firefighters on the scene when the World Trade Center buildings collapsed. His job, at the time, was intended to be search and rescue, but as you will discover, it sadly became something else.

Our message is simple—we must never forget that for the victims and first responder of 9/11, the wounds are real. While all of us were affected in some way, those who lived through it will carry the scars, every day, for the rest of their lives.

Thank you, Sean Hickey, and thanks to your fellow first responders. We pledge to you that the price you paid to serve us all will, truly, never be forgotten.   

On the surface, the storyline of Autumn Spring seems simple enough—two older men, having some fun, being a bit naughty. A couple of pranksters with no intent to malign, they’re not quite careful enough as their high jinks sometime backfire, creating problems they hadn’t planned on. I couldn’t help but thinking this would turn out to be a toned-down, lighthearted, European-flavored mix of “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” and the “Bucket List,” but this movie impressed me far more than either one—and I liked both of those movies.

The film opens with Fanda (Vlastimil Brodsky) and his close friend Eda (Stanislav Zindulka), touring a palatial estate with a realtor. On this day, Fanda is a wealthy “Maestro,” the retired conductor of the Metropolitan Opera. With a dismissive air he notes a few “shabby” characteristics of the mansion, informing the realtor that he might purchase the property—if the owner considers lowering its multi-million dollar price.
As we discover, it’s all an act of course. These guys are having just some fun—harmless fun, but expensive fun—as in; the realtor has shelled out money for a limo, lunch, wine and a suite at the Hilton for this esteemed, potential buyer.

Fanda trips up, accidentally revealing his true identity as nothing more than a retired pensioner. The realtor is not amused and demands repayment for his expenses. It is a considerable amount of money, so Fanda and Eda begin anew their shenanigans in an attempt to raise the cash. Of course, they are unsuccessful.

Enter Fanda’s wife of 44 years, Emilie (Stella Zazvorkova). Disciplined, pragmatic and realistic to a fault, Emilie is Fanda’s antithesis. They are well along in years after all, so Emilie is taking great pains to plan for the couple’s eventual and certainly approaching demise. You could say she is obsessed with death, as she daily counts and divides their pennies, the major portion going into their “funeral account jar.”

You can see where this is going, as Fanda “borrows” some of the funeral money to pay his debt. Ultimately however, Fanda is just too kind hearted to carry his deceptions to complete success and his “innocent” lies eventually catch up to him. The breaking point is reached and hell hath no fury like a “by the book” wife of 44 years. Emilie’s had enough of Fanda’s irresponsible ways and with the blessing of their conniving son, Jara (Ondrej Vetchy) who would like to send papa to the old folks home so that he can have their apartment, Emilie files for divorce. Fanda vows to change his ways, is forgiven, and this time keeps his word. Finally satisfied, Emilie’s life is in order, just as she wanted it. She is happy, as they can now look forward to death together.

The story turns gently and subtly, eventually blossoming into a rich and poignant look at what it means to live and to love. Was Fanda’s behavior due to an immature, irresponsible attitude, or perhaps merely a case of longing for some long-lost, youthful exuberance? We learn the truth as Emilie’s eyes eventually open to see the man she has loved for so many years, as she understands that Fanda has had it right it right all along. He’s been on a mission—to live life in the moment, quietly enjoying the experience, all the time wearing an “inner smile.”

Autumn Spring’s screenplay, by Jiri Hubac, is clever and engaging and the acting is superb throughout. This is a touching and meaningful film, well worth seeing.

Autumn Spring plays in an exclusive East Bay premier engagement at the Orinda Theatre, for one week only, beginning September 16th. The film was selected for this screening by the Lamorinda Film and Entertainment Foundation, whose mission, in part, is to bring “dynamic programming of popular and diverse films” to our region. For tickets, go to www.lfef.org, or www.orindatheatre.com. You can view a trailer of Autumn Spring on our website at www.aliveeastbay.com.