I hereby give Sita Sings the Blues to you. Like all culture, it belongs to you already, but I am making it explicit with a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike License. Please distribute, copy, share, archive, and show Sita Sings the Blues. From the shared culture it came, and back into the shared culture it goes.

And with those words, master animator Nina Paley shares with us her gorgeously animated feature debut, a musical retelling of both a personal tramautic break-up and an Indian myth. It’s a film bursting with color and pathos and creativity. The animation style is so stunning and detailed, it’s staggering to reflect that the film was animated almost exclusively by one individual.

The irony of it all is that Paley used songs recorded in the 1920’s that are out of copyright; but because the compositions themselves are still restricted, she had to pay about $50,000 of her own mula to acquire the rights.

She now described herself as a “full-time free culture activist.” To wit, on her blog (which includes plenty more most excellent animations) she sings us a ditty she recalls from her childhood, “Copying Isn’t Theft.” Of course, she encourages covers and remixes, and now links to her favorites. Below is an adorable French cover.

You can watch Sita Sings the Blues at thirteen.org. Nina Paley’s excellent blog is here, while the Sita Sings the Blues homepage is here. I heard about the film through the excellent Spout Filmcouch podcast, which I’m disconcerted to learn (just now as I research this posting) has broadcasted its last show.

All Things Considered recently covered Israeli viral VJ Kutiman.   His claim to rightful fame?  Mashing up musical Youtube clips of musicians of variable talent in divergent settings.  People singing to their isight and hokey musical instructional videos and locked-off piano rehearsals and old school keyboards.  The result is a fun, marvelous swampy soul-funk groove video album that has to be seen (and heard) to be believed.

Currently, he’s the third most popular Israeli on Youtube.  The late-night crooners and percussion practicioners he appropriates are now getting thousands of hits.  In his Youtube comments, fans claim he has invented a new genre.  I’ve certainly never seen anything like this.

Kutiman’s wonderful album website.

A few months back the Criterion Collection expanded their minimum on-line presence by offering up select titles for streaming.  It’s only five dollars to stream a masterpiece; if you decide to purchase the DVD, they’ll take that $5 off of the purchase.  Better, you’ll get fantastic  perks if you join their social media experiment,  The Auteurs.  It doesn’t cost anything, and each month they partner with IFC to provide a “festival,” in which they stream six free uninterrupted films a month.

This month, the theme is academy award winners for “best foreign film,” and is typical of the high quality of their selections: now available are such arthouse favorites as Fellini’s masterpiece La Strada and the energetic Brazilian bossa nova musical Black Orpheus.   While both of these films frequently appear on critics’ all-time top ten lists, other festivals are more representative of Criterion’s gradual turn towards eclectism and inclusiveness.  Last month’s festival selections were all mediations on homicide, and included a Marcello Mastriani comedy, a Japenese surreal pop symphony, a Norwegian psychological horror puzzler, and the same serial killer saga shot two ways, both equally disturbing.

I can not overstate the quality of the streaming.  The same painstaking attention that they have previously applied to their restorations have been translated to the quality of their streaming.  It’s as good as blu-ray, the best I’ve seen on my computer.  With their nascent on-line offerings,  it’s like having a quirky world cinema obsessive as a best friend introducing you to the paragon of cinema.