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Posts Tagged ‘movie mania’

The last day of July was a good day for saving DVDs.

Can’t stop, won’t stop. This time I can save them all.

All things being equal, I’d rather be camped out at a video store than writing here on a sports blog.

Of course, video stores pretty much don’t exist anymore, and modern-day teens don’t even have a concept of what they were in the first place.

But I cling to the past, of days spent watching Bugsy Malone and eating Reese’s Pieces and somehow being paid to do so.

With the fuse relit by one basketball coach cleaning out the closet and sending DVD’s my way, I’m building Videoville 2.0 in a bedroom of my duplex.

From three films to making a run at 4,000 in a matter of months, I preserve a chunk of my past and once again marinate in the movie madness.

Some days it’s one or two. Yesterday, it was 83 DVD’s coming to their new (maybe) forever home on the shores of Penn Cove.

Three more Best Picture Oscar winners — Amadeus, Birdman, and Gandhi — the last two of eight Jesse Stone detective flicks starring Tom Selleck and his muscular mustache, two different versions of Sherlock Holmes battling The Hound of the Baskervilles, and Gregory Peck kickin’ unholy amounts of booty as The Chairman.

Plus, School House Rock!

Who gives that away to a thrift store and sleeps at night, I ask you??

So, in I swoop, basket in hand, ready to brain anyone foolish enough to try and get between me and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken or Hangin’ with the Homeboys.

While praying tomorrow will bring me another mystery box of DVDs courtesy someone embracing modern day life, streaming, and the allure of spring cleaning.

The Bad News Bears Go to Japan and Dudley Do-Right?

Eastwood pallin’ around with an orangutan and Schwarzenegger running wild through the futuristic world of … 2019?

The irrational dream lives on for another day.

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Our crack research team celebrates Coupeville Sports publishing for the 300th straight day. (Image property Mike Judge)

Day in, day out.

WordPress likes to count things, and it informs me that this article means I have published at least once a day, every day, for 300 consecutive days.

With summer, and a lack of school sports, upon us, it’ll be interesting to see if I can make it to a complete year, with day 365 set to be September 3.

Of course, since we live on an island, a storm that knocks out power for a day and breaks the run is always possible. Knock on wood (or my head).

But 300 straight days is nothing to sneeze at.

Whether it’s eight articles in one day — my high during this run — or one story published at 11:27 PM to keep the streak alive, I have assured readers there will almost always be something new to read every time they look at the blog.

Overall, I’m pushing 12 years, with that anniversary set for August 15, and with 11,336 articles currently published.

Whether you love Coupeville Sports or you’re a tired old whiner like South Whidbey political gadabout David Freed — who is “too busy” to actually read the articles but has plenty of time to bitch about them — the blog is making an impact.

How far will it go? Who knows?

There are days where I think about disappearing into the woods and going off the grid, and days where I think I can still be doing this when the current kindergarteners are high school seniors.

It’s a crapshoot.

For now, I am fully committing to another year, to documenting the final run of the Coupeville Class of 2025, which is headlined by an exceptionally strong group of Wolf female athletes.

For those who wish I would “stay in my lane” and write just about athletics, you’re probably not going to be happy.

Yes, the blog is called Coupeville Sports, and that’s the primary focus, but since day one, readers have continually been willing to push me to write about other things when it’s something they want discussed.

Be it robotics, academics, theater, or a million other topics, the requests come in, and I usually respond with a yes.

Not always, but mostly.

So, if I write about movies once in a while, dredging up memories from my video store days, deal with it.

And as ongoing budget issues affect schools across the state, that has a considerable impact on the sports world, and will be written about.

Again, deal with it. Or don’t read. Your choice.

The success, or failure, of Coupeville Sports, will always hinge on whether people are reading it.

I’m the only one with any say about what I write here, as I’m the only one doing said writing.

But you, the reader, ultimately dictate things.

I can see my readership and engagement numbers. I know what works, and what doesn’t.

Sometimes, I even listen to that.

Sometimes.

Moving forward, I promise to make some people happy. And others probably not so much.

With new leadership in the district, my hope is that the incoming administration comprehends how this works a little better than the outgoing one did at times.

I publish 100 percent of my articles here, on this blog.

Not on Facebook. Not on Twitter. Not on Instagram.

I post links to my stories on social media sites, in an effort to drive readers here, and when I post those links, people are able to make comments.

Those comments are their own opinions. They are not the story.

Be like Willie Smith, who recently departed after a long stint as Coupeville’s Athletic Director.

Read the story. The real story. Not just the social media comments.

Then, if you want to have a discussion of what I actually wrote, and not just a third-hand report of what some parent said in response, so be it.

I hope the new administration embraces a little more openness, as well.

I understand you will never tell me certain things, and that there are areas we can’t discuss, or at least areas you will tell me we can’t discuss.

Also understand, that’s not likely to stop me.

The more open the administration is in sending out information, the better it is for all involved.

I would also say this is a great time to discuss how the district gets info to the community. You know, the taxpayers who are, ultimately, your bosses.

Coupeville streams its regular monthly board meetings, but not workshops or side events. You need to rethink that.

Make it as easy as possible for people to see you make the sausage.

And why not follow South Whidbey’s lead, on one small thing, and record those meetings and put them on YouTube where they can be viewed later?

Right now, words and images from school board meetings vanish into the night as soon as they’re streamed. Why?

Embrace openness, with the taxpayers and the bloggers.

District officials and board members are putting in the good fight, and righting the financial ship as we sail out of troubled pandemic times.

Give people a better way to appreciate the work you’re doing.

Ultimately, I believe most regular readers of Coupeville Sports would say the coverage here is 99 percent positive.

I’m very much a “homer,” promoting Wolf Nation and its occupants. I accept that assessment.

I’m not sitting in my mom’s basement, grinding an axe and venting my spleen. Most days at least.

But there will be some “negative” coverage at times — it’s called news, and it’s called life.

If you have a problem with something I write, tell me, not school officials.

I don’t work for them. They don’t pay me. Not a single penny.

And it has been ever so.

 

Want to support the blog? You can donate in person, by mail at 165 Sherman, Coupeville, WA, 98239, or online at:

 

Venmo — David-Svien

PayPal — https://paypal.me/DavidSvien?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US

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Preserving cinematic history, one DVD at a time.

I can be calm.

I can be rational.

I can be…

“Dear Sweet Lord! Is that Howard the Duck??!!!?!?”

Spoiler alert: It was.

Face it.

I may write about sports on a daily basis, but movies have almost always been my one true obsession.

Fifteen years of video store life, of being paid to watch films, and I’d still be doing it if the world hadn’t shifted around me.

Once we lived in a world where David got screening copies of movies every single day and enough free cinematic-related swag to choke a horse.

T-shirts for Apollo 13 and The Stupids! A River Wild bomber jacket!! Boxes of Forrest Gump chocolates!!!

And now, we inhabit the darkest timeline, where Walmart sells record players(!) in 2024(!!) to underage hipsters but has removed the $5 DVD bin from the middle of the store in Oak Harbor.

But we fight on!

I was sliding through life with just five DVDs in my duplex, watching streaming, and then, thanks to one generous CHS basketball coach, suddenly the door on my addiction was cracked back open.

Since I have to go zero MPH or 1,000 MPH — it’s just my way — bam, a couple of months later, I’m pushing 3,000 DVDs.

Which means when I drive Whidbey Island, I’m always scanning the side of the road for free bookcases now.

And haunting the thrift stores of three towns, always looking for that sweet, sweet hit.

An unopened nine-pack of Alfred Hitchcock films for a couple bucks??

A pristine set of ESPN’s 30 for 30 documentaries for what amount to spare change??

A two-disc anniversary edition of Forbidden Planet, with Leslie Nielsen in his straight guy prime, before he became the king of deadpan comedy with Airplane and The Naked Gun movies???

A dusty box of DVDs featuring fairly obscure Avant-garde films??

We have liftoff (and muted screaming inside my head as I try and stay calm on the outside).

My small home has become a refuge for these DVDs being rejected by the world at large — a forever home where they can come and have a water view of Penn Cove, not fearful of ending up in a landfill.

I’ve already had to decide that no, I don’t have the room to save VHS tapes.

Maybe if I had a warehouse, and not a duplex…

At some point I’ll probably have to be realistic and cut down to one copy of any particular title, and not do what I’m doing now, which is to preserve any DVD that comes my way.

I may love A Knight’s Tale with Heath Ledger rockin’ out in the world of jousting, but I don’t really need six copies of it.

But six different people have donated a copy to me, so, for now, sanctuary!

I’m being (semi) responsible here. No hoarding. No piles of DVDs on the floor.

It’s all on shelves, strictly alphabetized from Abba: Gold to Zoolander.

Whenever I add another title, be it a thrift store find, a garage sale rescue, or a donation from someone accepting it’s 2024 and the world has changed, it takes me back to my Videoville days.

The mystery of opening a box of donated DVDs from a Wolf Mom and finding … An American Werewolf in LondonThe Goonies … HOWARD THE FREAKIN’ DUCK!!!

The hunt in the wild, skulking in thrift shops and at garage sales and unearthing Support Your Local Gunfighter or Cry-Baby or Have Gun, Will Travel or The Last Starfighter!

There’s a vast world of DVDs out there.

Some are Chinatown or L.A. Confidential.

Some are … The Brady Bunch in the White House or Monster Mutt.

All deserve a safe haven in a world gone wild. The work goes on.

A small smidge of my revived obsession. So many DVDs still left to save…

 

Have DVDs (or a bookcase or two) you want to send on to David’s retirement home for movies? 165 Sherman in Coupeville is your destination.

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Nicolas Cage would like to have a word regarding your use of a cell phone in a movie theater.

Movie watching ain’t what it used to be.

In so many ways.

Gone are the days of me camping out in the Oak Harbor theater to the extent where the back row seats were shaped to my butt cheeks.

It wasn’t Covid that killed the public viewing experience for me.

It was cell phones, and the moment when modern theater owners decided that no, they really didn’t want to do anything to keep the morons from lighting up in the dark and ruining the experience.

I watched films in off-island dollar theaters where we openly debated as to whether the chunks of stuff on the wall were smashed-up brownies or something far more nefarious.

Possible (human) manure? Not a deal-breaker.

Cell phones? The end of civilization as we know it.

And so I’ve gone inside, choosing my own recliner and I’m better for it.

NOT playing at a theater near you.

We’re at a time when a month of a streaming service costs less than a single matinee ticket, and that’s before adding in the gas spent, the endless ads unspooled before we even get to the movie trailers, and the inflated cost of Reese’s Pieces.

Not to mention having to overcome the urge to “liberate” all the cell phones and light them on fire in the middle of the theater in a tribute to the cinematic gods.

Not that streaming is perfect, as tracking down movies through the labyrinth is becoming increasingly more difficult.

First the studios splintered into a million little pieces, and now they’re slowly, methodically lurching their way back to being cable TV again.

The dream of me being able to hide under my blankies and watch whatever I want, whenever I want, for as few pennies as possible, remains just that — a dream.

But I endure.

While frequently complaining to the universe, which the landlord’s cats have informed me makes it harder for them to enjoy their dinner in the manner they require.

So, while I wait for them to launch a coordinated attack on the duplex and stuff a rag in my mouth, I surf the internet, and complain, then complain some more.

At least there are no cell phones to set on fire, except for the one which my sister makes me have, but which I frequently ignore.

This year, as an experiment, I decided to document every film — feature length or short — I viewed.

I counted rewatches and new experiences alike, and the final number hit 602.

Some will be horrified by the number, I’m sure, but know this — back in my video store days, it was a LOT higher.

If you want, you can pop over to the Letterboxd page I used to track my viewing:

https://letterboxd.com/davidsvien/list/recliner-life-what-i-watched-in-2023/

And then you can join my nephews in informing me that, “Uncle David … you watch a lot of crap, don’t you???”

It’s true.

Though man cannot exist on Citizen Kane or Lawrence of Arabia alone.

You need The Apple in your life, too, and some Reefer Madness: The Movie Musical to keep things interesting.

It’s why I watched two films this year, with wildly varying plots, both called Malignant.

Plus, the quadruple threat of Cocaine Bear, Grizzly II (with a very young George Clooney), Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey, and Night of the Killer Bears.

And hey, if they didn’t want me to watch the really gnarly stuff, our library system wouldn’t put crap like Cannibal Holocaust on their free-to-the-world streaming site, Kanopy.

They’re the dealers, I’m just the guy trying to keep my cinematic high going. Sometimes you get Miami Vice-grade white thunder, sometimes it’s all weeds and sticks.

Streaming, where cinematic fever dreams live forever.

As I coast into a new year and move back into not publicly documenting each and every viewing experience, thereby giving my nephews ammunition for calling my sanity into question, one question lingers.

What were the best films I saw in ’23?

To start, we’ll toss out repeat viewings and go only with stuff which was brand new to me.

I know Boogie Nights and Moulin Rouge are great. You (hopefully) know Boogie Nights and Moulin Rouge are great. Movin’ right along.

And here’s where I’m going to throw in a plot twist, and finally accept something which I had to learn over my video store years.

The films I’m about to hail are not necessarily the best I saw, but my personal favorites.

Best is in the eye of the beholder, something I thought about as I rewatched Bottle Rocket, the film that tore apart Coupeville, for the first time since 1996.

Twenty-seven years down the road it was even better the second time around … for me.

I know there are many, many people out there who probably still hate the film, or at least remember hating it, and trying to convince them to change their mind is pretty pointless.

Listen, you love Avatar, and I think the series is a pointless waste of time and money, and I love the Coen brothers, and you get the shakes when their names come up.

It is what it is.

So, here we go, 23 films that I saw for the first time in 2023 and loved (or at least seriously liked).

Your mileage may vary.

 

Short films:

 

#10 — My Cat Lucy – YouTube

Hairballs are the work of the Devil.

 

#9 — The Punisher: Dirty Laundry – YouTube

Down ‘n dirty day in the life of the Marvel Comics vigilante, and a better cinematic take on the character than all of his feature film appearances combined.

 

#8 — Hors Piste – YouTube

Fun animated mini flick about a botched mountain rescue. PS — my nephews thought the title was hilarious, even if it doesn’t mean what it sounds like.

 

#7 — Ivalu – Kanopy

A young woman goes missing in Greenland, and things spiral downwards from there.

 

6 — Ice Merchants – YouTube

Eye-popping animated tale of daredevils chasing frozen water treats.

 

#5 — (tie) La Chambre (The Room) – Netflix and Knight of Fortune – YouTube

Two different countries, two different tales of people picking up the pieces after a death in the family.

 

#4 — The Red Suitcase – YouTube

A young girl, sent to another country to be a child bride, makes a run for it in a tense thriller.

 

#3 — Bob & Don – YouTube

Beautiful tribute to lifelong friends/comedian all-stars Bob Newhart and Don Rickles, proving opposites attract.

 

#2 — An Irish Goodbye – Kanopy

Two brothers try and fulfill their late mother’s bucket list, eliciting big tears and bigger laughs.

 

#1 — Boom – YouTube

I’ve seen this three times now, and it’s better than anything Pixar or Disney have done in a decade. The eggs running away, with just the legs having broken free, was my favorite moment of 2023, hands down.

Disney needs to open the bank vault now.

 

Feature films:

 

#10 (tie) — Mandy – Tubi and Babylon – Paramount+

Fever dreams about madmen (and women), with directors going absolutely for broke, no matter how many people they offend along the way. Nicolas Cage in a drug-fueled chainsaw duel and Margot Robbie sharing screen time with degenerates, both human and animal — now that’s cinema. Of a certain type…

 

#9 — The Holdovers – Peacock

Pitch-perfect ’70s set story of a band of misfits forced to spend Christmas break together on an otherwise shuttered campus. Paul Giamatti’s best work yet, and that’s saying a lot.

 

#8 – Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny – Disney+

Listen, I’ve seen Raiders of the Lost Ark 10 billion times. Even if this was bad (and it’s not) I would have given it some slack. How nice to have it be a genuinely touching, rip-roaring farewell to Harrison Ford in the role.

 

#7 — Lifeguard – Paramount+

Sam Elliott was once a young(er) man! Long before his bushy mustache became an international star on its own, he made this tale of a man hanging on to a fading life even as everyone else around him sells out. Far deeper than you expect — but, hey, it was the ’70s, when films were far more willing to be morally complex.

 

#6 (tie) — In a Valley of Violence – Netflix and The Sisters Brothers – Tubi

Two strong recent Westerns which honor the tradition of Eastwood and Leone, while finding their own unique paths. The former is proof John Travolta still has the juice when he wants to bring it.

 

#5 — 99 Homes – Kanopy

Lacerating tale of a man who loses his family home in the economic crash, then gets it back (and more), at least for a while, by becoming the very thing he hates.

 

#4 — Boyhood – Paramount+

I put this one off for a few years, and now wonder what I was thinking. Shot over multiple years, so we can see the young lead actor grow up for real on camera, it burrows deep to find something real and remarkable.

 

#3 — Licorice Pizza – Max

Paul Thomas Anderson, the man who gave us Boogie Nights, Hard Eight, and There Will Be Blood, is money in the bank, and this coming-of-age tale is another home run for the modern master.

 

#2 — Maggie Moore(s) – Hulu

Did I mention I love the Coen brothers? This VERY dark comedy/crime thriller, starring Jon Hamm and Tina Fey, is like a perfect performance by a really good tribute band. It might not be 100% the real thing, but it’s really dang close.

 

#1 — Hickey and Boggs – Tubi

A ’70s film with morally questionable lead characters (cops/PI’s/con men, etc.) sinking into a world of corruption, with no happy endings?

That’s my jam, baby.

From Chinatown — my favorite all-time film — to others like Night Moves, The Outfit, The Seven-Ups, Dirty Harry, The Long Goodbye, Farewell My Lovely, The Conversation, The Parallax View, Trick Baby, and now this one, which somehow evaded me until this year, I eat ’em up and come back for more.

Problematic enough to make a Gen Z TikToker have a stroke.

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Still my jam.

Yep, you’re all still wrong.

Back in 1996, two years into my 12-year run working behind the counter at Videoville, I relentlessly pushed a movie on renters.

A film which fractured Coupeville and exposed one simple truth — my taste in movies was often radically different than that of my customers.

That would be reinforced many, many, MANY times over the years.

Light one up for Reefer Madness: The Movie Musical, my old friend.

You can go hang out there in the corner with Hands on a Hardbody, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Apple, and the deeply misunderstood Cat in the Hat.

Don’t view it as a kid’s movie, but instead as Mike Myers crafting a warped tribute to old-school Catskills comedy, and you’ll be much happier.

But anyway, Bottle Rocket, which gave the world Owen Wilson (and his smashed-in nose) and Wes Anderson (and his love it or hate it cinematic style), was then, and remains now, a highly divisive movie in Cow Town.

In a 1996 world where most new VHS copies of movies cost between $70-$100 (it was a different time…), a lil’ store in Coupeville bought three copies of a micro-budget independent movie.

All because, battling a brain-splitting headache at 2:00 AM, I watched an advance copy of said film, and promptly convinced a VERY understanding video store owner, Miriam Meyer, only one move made sense.

Don’t pass on an oddball comedy from a first-time writer/director, starring an unknown goofball with a smashed schnozz, as many stores across America would.

And don’t buy just one copy.

Go for the deal the distributor was offering. A deal they probably thought no store would accept.

Buy THREE copies, get some bucks knocked off the overall price, and I would guarantee to rent that trio 300 times.

In a town the size of Coupeville.

So, we made a bet.

A bet I won, which resulted in Miriam buying the store Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure on LaserDisc — the format which was going to revolutionize the biz.

Until it didn’t.

Every employee arriving to work when video stores ruled the world in the mid-90’s.

We rented Bottle Rocket on VHS 306 times … and approximately 304 of those times, the reaction was brutal.

There was apathy. Indifference. And a whole heck of a lot of visceral hate.

Hate I still hear about to this day, a full 17 years after I departed Videoville.

Which begs the question — could I have been wrong?

Beset by a migraine, fueled by the heady mix of a microwave burrito and Excedrin, did I overestimate Bottle Rocket’s brilliance in the early hours of a 1996 morning?

Or was 99.2% of the town just flat out wrong, heathens with no taste for the finer things?

That existential quandary hovered in the air on a recent Saturday afternoon in 2023, as I returned to Bottle Rocket for the first time in 27 years.

No migraine, no microwave burrito, no Excedrin, just some presumably clear eyes taking a second look at the film which will forever mark me in this town.

Which is saying a lot, as I have mainlined an ungodly number of movies in my time.

The total number is unfathomable at this point, but I once tried to tally up the titles seen. When I hit 10,000, I quit counting.

That was a looooooooooooong time ago.

As a lark, I’ve been keeping tabs on my viewing habits this year, which you can view here:

https://letterboxd.com/davidsvien/list/recliner-life-what-i-watched-in-2023/

With my video store days long gone, and sports writing duties somewhat restricting my time, I’m still on target to hit about 500 in 2023.

Not a record-buster, but decent numbers.

But for every Chinatown and On the Waterfront in my past, there have been a gazillion lesser cinematic moments.

My nephews, after finding out I once paid to be the only person in a mall movie theater for a showing of the 2000 Jason Biggs “comedy” Loser, now find it hilarious to bring that nugget up 10 times a week.

“Man, Uncle David, you watch a lot of crap, don’t you?”

I do, I do. Just look at my Letterboxd list…

Taste, or lack of it, is in the eye of the beholder.

Or something like that. Now hush while I go watch a double feature of camp and schlock with Glee: The Concert and Sisters of Death.

My Roku seeing me choose movies to watch.

But back to Bottle Rocket, and my first viewing of it in 27 years.

Back then, it unspooled on a VCR.

This time around, it was streaming on Hulu.

Both times? Bliss, baby.

Time has been kind to Bottle Rocket. If anything, I think it’s better the second time around.

Over the years, Wes Anderson has become among the most precious of directors, each of his films even more hermetically sealed — lil’ masterpieces of elaborate art design aimed at a crowd of about three of us.

I like most of what he does, and outright love some of it, like The Grand Budapest Hotel.

That said, other modern-day filmmakers like the Coen brothers and Paul Thomas Anderson have proven to be his superior in my eyes.

And if we’re talking old-school pros like Akira Kurosawa and Billy Wilder, or the controversial but brilliant trio of Elia Kazan, Leni Riefenstahl, and Roman Polanski, he’s not even in the conversation.

But Wes Anderson is very, very good at a very narrow form of filmmaking, and give him his props for that.

Then go back and watch Bottle Rocket with fresh eyes after 27 years, and it’s a jolt to be reminded how different his debut film was from the movies he’s now best known for making.

There’s no all-star cast — Owen and Luke Wilson are first-timers, and Lumi Cavazos, so sweetly winning, was virtually unknown to American audiences.

Unless you had made a road trip from Whidbey to the theater in Mount Vernon to see her in the Mexican art house smash Like Water for Chocolate back in ’92.

Worth the gas money.

The ever-luminous Lumi Cavazos.

James Caan, of Godfather and Rollerball fame, was the only “name” in the cast in 1996, and his small role, as a weird (maybe) crime boss was a million years away from his normal hyper-intense roles.

Wes Anderson hadn’t become obsessed with art design yet, and the movie — a gentle, goofy comedy about slightly cockeyed people finding connections through small-time crime — plays out across normal Texas landscapes.

It’s laidback, charming, witty, a light dollop of fun floating through a too-tense world.

Martin Scorsese, perhaps our greatest living director, said Bottle Rocket “conveys the simple joys and interactions between people so well and with such richness.”

Are you going to argue with the dude who made Goodfellas, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, and Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore?

Simple joys … maybe that’s the problem.

In my push to hit 300 rentals, I might have oversold the film, made it sound like it would transform lives and inspire a generation.

Bottle Rocket is what it is, then and now.

Just a whimsical good time, something to ease head pain in 1996 or bring back good memories in 2023 of a time when video store life was in its prime.

I loved the film then. I love it now.

Maybe it’s time everyone else in Coupeville took 91 minutes to reevaluate it.

And if you still hate it afterwards? Well, you’d just be wrong.

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