While the EU is sanctioning its citizen by pretending to sanction Russia, the Russians have become the largest exporters of oil in India. Starting from a few percent in 2022, the India now receives its oil from Russia in a very reasonable price, $62.21 per barrel. The Saudi oil per barrel would cost $86.96 and even the Iranian oil just $77.77. Finland should normalize its relationships with Russia, leave EU, WHO and NATO for starters, and mind our own business. And mind it by running it by using cheap gasoline from Russia. If people in the EU and the USA only knew how their energy bills are kept artificially high "because of Ukraine", the conflict would end in a week. Or less. Now chances are that we buy Russian oil as Indian oil and at much higher cost than sixty bucks per barrel.

"A man is reunited with his childhood friend and her husband, who believe he knows the truth about the death of her rich aunt years earlier." The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (Paholaisnainen) is a 1946 American film noir drama directed by Lewis Milestone from a screenplay written by Robert Rossen (and an uncredited Robert Riskin), based on the short story "Love Lies Bleeding" by playwright John Patrick. Produced by Hal B. Wallis, the film stars Barbara Stanwyck, Van Heflin, Lizabeth Scott and features Kirk Douglas in his film debut. The film was entered into the 1947 Cannes Film Festival. "On a rainy night in 1928 in a Pennsylvania factory town called Iverstown, thirteen-year-old Martha Ivers tries to run away from the guardianship of her wealthy, despicable aunt, Mrs. Ivers, with her friend, the street-smart, poor Sam Masterson. She is caught and brought home where Martha's tutor, Walter O'Neil Sr., presents his timid son, Walter Jr., as the one responsible for Martha's recovery. Scolded by her aunt, Martha defiantly states her name is not Ivers, but Smith, her father's name..." Cast Barbara Stanwyck as Martha Ivers Van Heflin as Sam Masterson Lizabeth Scott as Antonia "Toni" Marachek Kirk Douglas as Walter O'Neil Judith Anderson as Mrs. Ivers Roman Bohnen as Mr. O'Neil Darryl Hickman as Sam Masterson as a Child Janis Wilson as Martha Ivers as a Child Ann Doran as Bobbi St. John Frank Orth as Hotel Clerk James Flavin as Detective #1 Mickey Kuhn as Walter O'Neil as a Child Charles D. Brown as McCarthy Blake Edwards as Sailor (uncredited) Robert Homans as Gallagher (uncredited) Gladden James as John (uncredited) Cast notes - This film marked Kirk Douglas' screen debut. Producer Hal B. Wallis was on his way to New York to look for new talent when he ran into Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, who suggested that he go to a play which featured Bacall's old drama school classmate, Issur Demsky, who later took the name Kirk Douglas. Douglas later wrote in his autobiography that Van Heflin was very helpful to him in his first time on a film set. In contrast to his later, tougher roles, Douglas plays an alcoholic weakling. According to Tony Thomas, "it assured Douglas his future in films". - Future film director and producer Blake Edwards had an uncredited bit part as a sailor who hitches a ride with Sam. Critical reception The film has received acclaim from modern critics. It holds a 100% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes, based on 10 reviews. Dave Kehr from Chicago Reader wrote in a glowing review that the film "is pervaded by [Rossen’s] guilty-liberal fascination with power and money." And continued by saying "Director Lewis Milestone does little more than accent the hysteria of Rossen's script, though his portrait of the company town, bound in factory grime and feudal loyalty, is nicely done." Awards and nominations John Patrick received an Academy Award nomination for Best Writing, Original Motion Picture Story. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Strange_Love_of_Martha_Ivers https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0038988/ https://odysee.com/@OpenAllNight:7?view=lists

John Waters shorts - 1989 - Close Circle of Friends.

Hotel Chelsea / Chelsea Walls (2001) The Chelsea Hotel used to be grand, the place to live for New York City artists. Mark Twain, Thomas Wolfe, Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Sid Vicious… they all passed through the hotel's halls. Still, even though the iron façade has become rusty, new dreamers come every day, hoping to be inspired by the ghosts of the past. Grace (Uma Thurman) and Audrey (Rosaria Dawson) are young poets, who constantly struggle with issues of art and love. Never learning from experience, they always seem to let the wrong men into their hearts. Grace should love Frank (Vincent D'Onofrio), an artist who respects and understands her. But she still responds to the siren call of the lover who went to Hollywood. Similarly, Audrey lets impenetrable Val (Mark Webber) back into her life, knowing he will leave again and maybe never return. Down the hall, Bud (Kris Kristofferson) is a writer who faces more endings than beginnings. He pretends that his wife, Greta, (Tuesday Weld) and his mistress, Mary, (Natasha Richardson) are his muses. But his novel is really fueled by an endless supply of alcohol, memories, and unfulfilled dreams. For every worn out writer, there are two new musicians who come to town. Ross (Steve Zahn) and Terry (Robert Sean Leonard) have just driven in from Minnesota, eager to experience the sights and sounds of the Chelsea Hotel. These new hotel residents, young and full of expectations, mingle with the old hotel ghosts and guests, ultimately becoming interchangeable. They form a community, linked by their dreams. The Chelsea Hotel never really leaves the people who live there, nor do they ever really leave it. Ethan Hawke, who directed the film, said about it that "“I think of it more as a double album than a film.” ...A tone poem of sorts, “Chelsea Walls” is a character meditation, rather than a character study. His film is slowly paced, achingly acted, and as languid as a pool of blood in a hotel hallway. It has almost no plot, no beginning, no middle, and no end. It simply is. And, with a few exceptions, it is something we want to see. There are not so much stories here as characters and moments. Not even moments… non-moments. Filmmaker and scripter Ethan Hawke would rather meander through the hallways of the fabled Chelsea Hotel in New York City, opting to pause here and there to collect a moment. His characters are vulnerable and hurt. They float through the hallways, between the walls, and into the rooms like mere ghosts of humanity, like artists. There is Kris Kristofferson as an aging writer coping with his immense sexuality and the notion of its loss. There is Uma Thurman as a would be artist caught in a purgatory of love with a men, not allowed to become a real woman because the men in the world will simply not allow her the freedom to grow. There is Robert Sean Leonard and Steve Zahn as two newbies to NYC who play beautiful and emotional songs in the bathroom. The beauty of the songs are a smoldering yet surreptitious indication of the dark elements threatening to crush Leonard. There is Rosario Dawson, a young poet stuck in the nether-world of love while her innocent and teenage boyfriend Mark Webber proves himself to be heading down the wrong track, thanks to the input of his brother Kevin Corrigan. There is Jimmy Scott as a gambler, a jazz singer lost and lonely in his world built on its own meaninglessness. Hawke rambles through these characters like a man on Quaaludes. He often lingers too long. (The Kristofferson story is not only reminiscent of several other films out there, it’s quite dull). Sometimes he doesn’t linger long enough. (The Jimmy Scott story goes nowhere). Sometimes it is perfection. (The moment where Dawson shaves Webber is flawless in its exploration of innocence about to be lost). Hawke’s film is masterful in its use of music. Not only do characters in the film play music on screen, but the score by Jeff Tweedy of Wilco is perfection. Tweedy often brings us songs that sound like Eno’s ambient work with acoustic guitar thrown in. The film plays, indeed, like the double album Hawke thinks it to be. It’s like listening to an old Dylan album. Only you’re listening with your eyes as much as your ears. You are listening visually. Chelsea Walls isn’t for everyone. It's of an acquired taste. Some people will hate it. But if one simply goes expecting to see glimpses of life, moments that pass, time in perfect and perfunctory order, they will be awed by its power to crystallize moments. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0226935/ https://odysee.com/@OpenAllNight:7?view=lists