I wish I knew how to quit you, Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu.

I'm generally not big on the idea of "giving up" on filmmakers. For one thing, it seems like kind of an empty gesture, like when I was younger and I'd tell everyone I was "boycotting" certain movies that I didn't want to see instead of just keeping my mouth shut and seeing something else like a grown-up. For another, you never know when a director might surprise you. After all, if I gave up on every director who hit a cold spell, I would've missed out on great movies like Tetro, Goodbye to Language, and The Hurt Locker (Bigelow's Weight of Water/K-19: The Widowmaker seems like ancient history now, eh?).

That said, it's somewhat easier with directors I never cared for all that much in the first place. To cite two obvious examples, I haven't bothered with Marc Forster ever since he managed to make a dirt-boring Bond movie, and I'm not looking to partake of another Matthew Barney filmed thingamajig now that he's made a movie involving him and Bjork having sex, chopping off each other's limbs, and morphing into whales, only wayyyyyyyy less interesting than that synopsis would suggest.

Then there are the in-between cases. For instance, take the strange case of M. Night Shyamalan. Conventional wisdom states that he's been more or less in free-fall ever since Signs, but I can't quite cut the cord. Sixth Sense is pretty awesome, both Unbreakable and Signs are tense as hell, and his subsequent (original) works have had some great moments in between the goofball digressions and jarring tonal dissonances. Even The Happening had that great scene with the handgun.

That's also how I feel about Alejandro Gonzalez Iñarritu. I can't write off the guy, because he's clearly talented. That's been clear ever since he made Amores Perros, which shares some of the miserablistic tendencies of his later work but is so propulsive, so thrumming with energy, that it never comes across as a wallow. Sadly, the films that followed didn't really capitalize on that potential. 21 Grams is well-acted but suffers from a overly-deterministic plotting and a needlessly jumbled chronology. I sort of hated Babel, which in addition to coming across as a globalized version of Crash (which I also hated) but boasted one of the worst throw-my-drink-at-the-screen moments in recent memory- the scene involving the Moroccan boy spying on his sister, in case you're playing at home.

So after getting burned twice in a row, I felt pretty comfortable skipping Biutiful, especially when I heard it was the sort of wallow that Amores Perros somehow managed to avoid becoming. And I was ready to do the same for Birdman until the buzz began to generate. Had AGI turned over a new leaf? Well... yes and no. "Yes" in the sense that he was no longer engaging in grief porn in order to come across as a serious storyteller; "no" in the sense that his work was as wanky and show-offy as ever, with the jagged editing and shuffled chronologies traded in for a faux-single shot gambit that was as attention-grabbing as it was pointless (Scott Tobias did a great job explaining a lot of my issues with the movie in his review for the late, much-missed Dissolve). More and more, it seems like the guy is the sort of talented filmmaker whose talented is deployed in ways that rub me the wrong way, like a gifted impersonator who spends his entire routine doing pitch-perfect impressions of Jerry Lewis and Gilbert Gottfried. There's no denying the skill, but you can only watch for so long.

So I've decided to give Gonzalez Iñarritu one more shot with the upcoming The Revenant. Once again, he's doing the single-shot thing, but I hold out hope that maybe this time it'll serve a purpose- say, to allow the audience to experience the hero's ordeal through his eyes, or at least at his side. But if I don't like this one either, I don't know how many more chances I'll give him. But then, you never know with talented filmmakers. I mean, I stuck with Woody Allen through Jade Scorpion, Hollywood Ending, AND Scoop, right? I can handle damn near anything at this point.

"So... what did you think?" or: how I put entirely too much thought into my movie ratings system

Why do we grade movies?  Some would argue (and have!) that critics should forego ratings entirely, because any good review will convey to the reader why and how much the reviewer liked the movie.  Yet somehow it’s become expected that if we’re going to tell others our thoughts on a movie, we should provide a score for them as well, if only as a quick reference for those who are paying attention.  This seems especially important for bite-sized assessments posted on social media sites.  After all, social media sites like Twitter tend to have a character limit, and since it’s not like one can cram a lot of detail into 140 characters, some kind of grade can succinctly sum up what a review would otherwise convey.

But which grading scale to use?  As a sometimes blogger and would-be critic, that’s a question I’ve struggled with for years.  In my early years, I employed letter grades, until it hit me that letter grades tend to carry different weight with different readers.  For example, those junior achiever types like I was in my school days tend to look down on anything less than an A, so when one rates a movie a B, that somehow seems subpar even if it’s a perfectly serviceable entertainment.

After that, I moved on to the four-star scale, which seems to be the most popular right now.  However, the problem with this scale, aside from its ubiquity, is that there isn’t really a consensus for what the different star ratings actually mean.  Back when he was still co-hosting At the Movies, Roger Ebert stated that anything receiving three stars or more would constitute a “thumbs up,” which denoted a positive review.  By contrast, the four-star scale used by The Chicago Reader is closer to the following:

0 stars – Worthless

1 star – Has redeeming facet

2 stars – Recommended

3 stars – A must see

4 stars – Masterpiece

Because of how ill-defined my four-star system was, back in 2007 I decided to switch to a Sicinski-esque 10-point scale.  At the time, this suited my needs best, since it required little explanation.  If you rate a movie “on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the best,” people will have a pretty solid idea of how you feel.  It’s simple math, really- if 10 is the best a movie can be, and 1 (or zero in my case) is the worst, then logically speaking a rating a 5 would mean average, and therefore a 6 or higher would be above average, and 4 or lower below.  So you can see how I found that pretty useful.

But the other day, I looked at my lists of the movies I’ve seen and graded between 2007 and 2011, and it hit me that maybe the 10-point scale isn’t right for me after all.  It’s not that it’s not an accurate scale, but something about it just feels… wrong.  Look at the chart below:

Notice something a little off?  If 5 is supposed to be the “average” or “mediocre” rating, then my ratings distribution feels a little asymmetrical.  My movie intake has curtailed since 2007, but the constant is that 6 ratings- given to movies about which I’m positive but hardly passionate- outnumber the rest.  And as you can see, the other ratings tend to follow a pretty similar pattern as well, bottoming out with both 10s and everything 3 and below.

Of course, if I actually saw every movie out there the chart would look rather different.  I dare say that the distribution would shift to the left, perhaps even left of “average” rating of 5.  But the truth is that I’m like most paying moviegoers in that I tend to stick to movies that I think I or my family will enjoy.  Granted, there are some real stinkers out there, and when they’re pitched loudly enough to kids, chances are I won’t be able to avoid them.  But now that my kid is old enough that he doesn’t feel like he has to see every new animated family movie out there, this is less of a problem than it used to be.

Another problem with the 10-point scale is that it devotes as many points to bad movies as good ones.  Unless you see a lot of bad movies- which thankfully I don’t anymore- it’s pretty hard to tell the difference between movies that deserve a 1, a 2, or a 3.  If something’s really offensively awful, it deserves one of these, but considering how pissed off I am after I watch a really terrible movie, the last thing on my mind is trying to pinpoint just how bad it really is.

This is my big problem with the Ebert scale.  Ebert has traditionally ranked movies out of four stars, including half-star ratings, which makes a total of nine possible ratings.  Of these, six of them are negative.  Now, there’s obviously going to be a difference between a 0-star rating (given to the worst of the worst) and a 2 ½-star rating (given to movies that aren’t quite good enough to recommend).  But why would one need six different ratings in which to categorize movies that (a) aren’t good, and that (b) one wouldn’t recommend to others?  Seems excessive to me, having to come up with a bunch of different ways to tell people a movie sucks.

Meanwhile, that leaves only three positive ratings, which basically boil down into (a) good, (b) very good, and (c) great.  Sorry, but that isn’t enough for me.  If I’m praising a movie, I want people to know whether I think it’s a flat-out masterpiece or something that’s just really enjoyable, which to my eyes is a fairly substantial difference.

So what is my alternative?  In the last week or so I’ve been toying with the idea of a modified Reader-style system, which would incorporate half-star ratings but would otherwise have similar emotional responses applied to the ratings.  Here’s what I’m looking at right now:

0 stars – Simultaneously terrible and offensive.  I’m angry at myself for seeing this. (0 to 2 on the current scale)

½ star – Terrible, but not offensively so.  Mostly just a waste of time. (3)

1 star – Not recommended.  See if you must, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. (4)

1 ½ stars – Not quite recommended, but has some redeeming facet that could make it worth seeing. (5)

2 stars – Pretty good, not bad, I can’t complain. (6)

2 ½ stars – Well worth your time. (7)

3 stars – A must-see.  A contender for my yearly top-10 list. (8)

3 ½ stars – A near masterpiece.  One of the best films of the year. (9)

4 stars – A masterpiece.  See it, like, now.  Very rare. (10)

I went back and forth about including the half-star rating, largely because I wasn’t sure I needed another negative rating in there.  However, I decided to include it since I thought it was necessary to distinguish between your garden-variety bad movies and the true crimes against cinema.

So if I switch my 2007-2011 ratings over to the new scale, this is what the distribution looks like.

Looks better to me.  What do you think?

Qapla'!

In last month's Criterion Watch, I commented on the announcement of the upcoming releases A Christmas Tale and Gomorrah by saying, "these are both IFC Films releases, as is Che, which the newsletter hinted at a while back, so that makes me think that maybe Criterion has struck a deal with IFC to release some of their recent stuff on DVD for the benefit of those who would prefer not to set foot inside a Lackluster Video." Sometimes, it feels good to be right.

According to ScreenDaily,

"IFC Films has signed a deal with The Criterion Collection licensing the prestige DVD label sell-through home entertainment rights for select IFC titles.

Under the terms of the deal, Criterion acquires the rights to distribute select IFC Films’ titles on DVD in the US and will release sell-through special editions of each film."

Not to toot my own horn, but I also predicted such titles as The Secret of the Grain and Hunger. The article also states that Criterion will be pressing some older titles such as Y tu mama tambien (guess I'll have to double-dip that one) and Following along with the newer stuff.

I'd say this is good news for both of the companies, with Criterion getting some solid recent titles and IFC getting some more DVD clout. The only drawback I can see is that Criterion will need to make the DVDs extra special- plenty of features, etc.- or else sales could suffer due to people recording the movies when they play on-demand. Then again, this being Criterion, it shouldn't be too big a deal.

And since Criterion is all about making deals, they should try to go ahead and snap up some other distributors' catalogs. I can think of a few now-defunct companies I'd like to see better-represented on DVD in general and as part of Criterion in particular. As I've mentioned before, there are some greats lying in wait in the old USA Films catalog, and I can see plenty of potential in Lot 47 Films (The War Zone, The Fast Runner, Trouble Every Day) as well. And if Criterion can find it in their hearts to snap up some old Miramax Zoë rereleases (Belle de Jour, Young Girls of Rochefort, Les Amants du Pont-Neuf), that would be awesome. After all, it's not like Disney is doing anything with 'em.

An open letter to Scott Tobias of the Onion A.V. Club

Dear Scott,

Hey bud. First off, just wanted to let you know that I think you’re doing an awesome job. In my experience, your movie reviews tend to be the most insightful on the site. In addition, I’ve been a fan of your weekly New Cult Canon column ever since it started up last year. As someone who knows what a grind it can be like to crank out content with any regularity, I admire that you still manage to keep the pieces fresh without being stingy with the critical insight.

I recently worked my way through Danny Peary’s first volume of Cult Movies- the book you cited as your inspiration for the series- and I couldn’t help but notice some differences between Peary’s M.O. and what you’ve been doing so far in the series. The biggest difference I could see is that, unlike Peary, you seem to enjoy nearly all of the movies you’ve selected. Now, don’t get me wrong- I’m not trying to say that you’re more of a pushover than Peary was by any means. Instead, I see this as a kind of difference in approaches. Whereas Peary’s goal was to write about movies that had already amassed passionate followings at that point, you also seem to be looking at movies you like that fit the definition of a “cult movie” even if the cult hasn’t quite happened yet.

Now, you’d think that by using this approach that it would be you who would have included more legitimate “classics” in your series, but in fact the opposite is true. Granted, some of the universally-acclaimed titles selected by Peary were inescapable, but I’m not sure that the likes of Citizen Kane or Singin’ in the Rain necessarily fit the mold in the same way as, say, Rocky Horror. By contrast, it looks like you’ve been avoiding across-the-board critical successes so far. Of course, I’m sure that it’s only a matter of time before you get to some of these, for example The New World or the oeuvre of Charlie Kaufman.

But at the same time, I don’t think I’m alone in saying that I’d like to see more pieces like your spotlight on The Boondock Saints. Not every title that has amassed a substantial following necessarily deserves the love it gets- I for one can’t fathom the cult that has grown up around Napoleon Dynamite except that it creates an almost impossibly nerdy character to whom even the average everyday dweeb can feel superior. And I would say that part of writing about pop-culture cult phenomena would be to acknowledge that there’s more to a movie finding a devoted audience than just quality.

That said, there’s still plenty of diversity among the titles you’ve chosen so far, which is one of the most interesting things about the series. After all, any subject that encompasses both Naked and Pootie Tang is fine with me. I also like that you’re not shying away from less-obvious foreign choices. After all, Audition and Battle Royale are natural inclusions for a column like this; Beau Travail and The Lovers on the Bridge, not so much. Personally, I might have gone with Trouble Every Day and POLA X, but it’s your column.

At the beginning of the series, you mentioned that you would be concentrating largely on movies that have been released since the mid-1980s, but would occasionally tackling older films as well. But aside from Soy Cuba (“the Cuba for vegans!”) and Manos: The Hands of Fate, I don’t think you’ve written about any recent re-issues. Maybe it’s just me, but I’d like to hear your thoughts on some semi-forgotten classics that have resurfaced in the past few years- I think Le Cercle Rouge would be an awesome fit for the column, along with Nicholas Ray’s long-unavailable-in-any-video-format Bigger Than Life. I also think it could be interesting to include movies that were critically maligned on their original releases but which have since been re-assessed by the critical community. I’d throw out some titles, except that the ones that keep springing to mind- One From the Heart, Heaven’s Gate, etc.- have already gotten the My Year of Flops treatment. Oh well.

In closing, I’d just like to re-iterate that I love what you’ve been doing, and that you should take these thoughts as nothing more than my own ideas on what this series is about. Sure, I’d like to see you take on some more “sexy” titles (let’s not forget that Peary wrote about Behind the Green Door and Emmanuelle, among others) but I also understand that the last two decades haven’t exactly been a great time for onscreen eroticism, although Betty Blue and Y Tu Mama Tambien might work for your purposes. But in the end, it’s your baby, and I totally respect the choices you’ve made so far, so I trust your judgment. In other words, keep up the good work.

Respectfully,
Paul C.

P.S.: If I may suggest a title, I’ve got one word for you: Malice. Also, if you could broaden the format a little to spotlight the short films of Don Hertzfeldt, I’d be eternally grateful. Thank you.

Revised 8/20 to add: Scott was gracious enough to send me a response to this post, which I'm posting below in its entirety. Thanks, Scott!

Hi Paul--

This is a very helpful post and I appreciate you taking the time to write it up. A few notes in my defense:

1. Yes, I have generally liked the films I've covered, and I think I should mix it up a bit more with some I didn't. So far, I have written negatively about CLERKS and THE BOONDOCK SAINTS (and THE ROOM, as a film anyway), and have my share of reservations about some others (TEAM AMERICA most recently), but I need to mix things up with more takedowns. I've actually never seen NAPOLEON DYNAMITE based on the disapproval of many trusted friends, but it's certainly a movie I need to cover and who knows what I'll think of it. In any case, more balance is called for here.

2. THE NEW WORLD and a Charlie Kaufman joint (SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK most likely) are in the offing. It's just a matter of when at this point.

3. You're perceptive about the difference between my approach and Peary's approach w/r/t to movies that have a cult quality but not necessarily a big cult following (e.g. MORVERN CALLAR). Part of it is that I'm choosing from a smaller pool of films than Peary; mostly, though, I want to shine a light on some cool, under-the-radar films that deserve to be celebrated.

4. I'm thinking of doing a theme month of older cult movies that have been championed more recently through reissues and DVD. The ones you suggest are all good, and I'd probably be inclined to add stuff like ARMY OF SHADOWS, a Melville movie, maybe a WAGES OF FEAR/SORCERER double review, et al. So I'll definitely return to this concept.

In any case, thanks for your open letter. This project is open-ended—and therefore a marathon, not a sprint. But expect to see some of your ideas employed in the coming months.

Thanks,

Scott

A look ahead

Now that the cat is out of the bag regarding the upcoming shutdown of Screengrab (*sniff*), it seems like I’ll have some more time on my hands to devote to this site. But how to spend it? Of course, my first priority will be to post reviews and remarks on recent movies- something I’ve gotten away from since the Muriels wrapped up back in February. But I also want to devote more space here to reviewing older fare, much as I did over at Screengrab.

Two things that are going to carry over from that gig to this one are the Famous Last Words contests (to begin the first week of June as a way of striking while the proverbial iron is hot), and the Reviews by Request posts. I always enjoyed the RBR reviews, especially since these allowed me to open up more of a dialogue with the reader than the other regular columns I would write. So for the foreseeable future anyway, I’ll be continuing putting RBR up every other week.

Another idea for a regular thing came to me a week or so ago. For a long time, I’ve had a goal of watching every title represented by the Criterion Collection, and it occurred to me that if I didn’t set about to watch and write about every Criterion title I haven’t seen, I’ll never do it. And while it’s not the most original goal for a cinephile, I’d say it’s a worthy one all the same.

To this end, and also to satisfy my curiosity, I decided to make a list of all the Criterions, to see how many I’ve got ahead of me. Turn out I’ve seen roughly a third of the titles. Likewise, looking at the list has always thrown into sharp relief some blind spots I have in my viewing. It looks like I’ve missed out on a lot of classic Italian and Japanese cinema (including plenty of non-Kurosawa samurai epics), along with a good number of documentaries and old-school British films. And while I’ve always considered myself a fan of classic crime dramas, making a list has shown me that I still have a long way to go. I can’t wait.

For your reference, here’s my list. The underlined titles denote box sets, which I don’t plan to watch in full unless I haven’t seen any of the films in them. I only plan to watch single films, which are denoted in boldface.

1. Grand Illusion
2. The Seven Samurai
3. The Lady Vanishes
4. Fellini Amarcord
5. The 400 Blows
6. La Belle et la Bête
7. A Night to Remember
8. The Killer
9. Hard Boiled
10. Walkabout
11. The Seventh Seal
12. This Is Spinal Tap
13. The Silence of the Lambs
14. Samurai I: Musashi Miyamoto
15. Samurai II: Duel at Ichijoji Temple
16. Samurai III: Duel at Ganryu Island
17. Salo, or the 120 Days of Sodom
18. The Naked Kiss
19. Shock Corridor
20. Sid and Nancy
21. Dead Ringers
22. Summertime
23. RoboCop
24. High and Low
25. Alphaville
26. The Long Good Friday
27. Flesh for Frankenstein
28. Blood for Dracula
29. Picnic at Hanging Rock
30. M
31. Great Expectations
32. Oliver Twist
33. Nanook of the North
34. Andrei Rublev
35. Les Diaboliques
36. The Wages of Fear
37. Time Bandits
38. Branded to Kill
39. Tokyo Drifter
40. Armageddon
41. Henry V
42. Fishing With John
43. Lord of the Flies
44. The Red Shoes
45. A Taste of Cherry
46. The Most Dangerous Game
47. Insomnia
48. Black Orpheus
49. Nights of Cabiria
50. And the Ship Sails On
51. Brazil
52. Yojimbo
53. Sanjuro
54. For All Mankind
55. The Unbearable Lightness of Being
56. The 39 Steps
57. Charade
58. Peeping Tom
59. The Night Porter
60. Autumn Sonata
61. Monty Python’s Life of Brian
62. The Passion of Joan of Arc
63. Carnival of Souls
64. The Third Man
65. Rushmore
66. The Orphic Trilogy
67. Blood of a Poet
68. Orpheus
69. The Testament of Orpheus
70. The Last Temptation of Christ
71. The Magic Flute
72. Le Million
73. Cleo from 5 to 7
74. Vagabond
75. Chasing Amy
76. Brief Encounter
77. …And God Created Woman
78. The Bank Dick
79. W.C. Fields: Six Short Films
80. The Element of Crime
81. Variety Lights
82. Hamlet
83. The Harder They Come
84. Good Morning
85. Pygmalion
86. Eisenstein: The Sound Years
87. Alexander Nevsky
88. Ivan the Terrible, Parts I and II
89. Sisters
90. Kwaidan
91. The Blob
92. Fiend Without a Face
93. Black Narcissus
94. I Know Where I’m Going!
95. All That Heaven Allows
96. Written on the Wind
97. Do the Right Thing
98. L’Avventura
99. Gimme Shelter
100. Beastie Boys Video Anthology
101. Cries and Whispers
102. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie
103. The Lady Eve
104. Double Suicide
105. Spartacus
106. Coup de Torchon
107. Mona Lisa
108. The Rock
109. The Scarlet Empress
110. M. Hulot’s Holiday
111. Mon Oncle
112. Playtime
113. Big Deal on Madonna Street
114. My Man Godfrey
115. Rififi
116. The Hidden Fortress
117. Diary of a Chambermaid
118. Sullivan’s Travels
119. Withnail & I
120. How to Get Ahead in Advertising
121. Billy Liar
122. Salesman
123. Grey Gardens
124. Carl Theodor Dreyer Box Set
125. Day of Wrath
126. Ordet
127. Gertrud
128. Carl Th. Dreyer: My Metier
129. Le Trou
130. The Shop on Main Street
131. Closely Watched Trains
132. The Ruling Class
133. The Vanishing
134. Häxan
135. Rebecca
136. Spellbound
137. Notorious
138. Rashomon
139. Wild Strawberries
140. 8 ½
141. Children of Paradise
142. The Last Wave
143. The Obscure Object of Desire
144. Loves of a Blonde
145. The Fireman’s Ball
146. The Cranes Are Flying
147. In the Mood for Love
148. Ballad of a Soldier
149. Juliet of the Spirits
150. Bob le Flambeur
151. Traffic
152. George Washington
153. General Idi Amin Dada
154. The Horse’s Mouth
155. Tokyo Olympiad
156. Hearts and Minds
157. The Royal Tenenbaums
158. The Importance of Being Earnest
159. Red Beard
160. À Nous la Liberté
161. Under the Roofs of Paris
162. Ratcatcher
163. Hopscotch
164. Solaris
165. Man Bites Dog
166. Down by Law
167. The Complete Monterey Pop Festival
168. Monterey Pop
169. Jimi Plays Monterey / Shake! Otis at Monterey
170. Trouble in Paradise
171. Contempt
172. Pepe le Moko
173. The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp
174. Band of Outsiders
175. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
176. The Killers Double Feature
177. The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum
178. My Life As a Dog
179. I Am Curious…
180. I Am Curious (Yellow)
181. I Am Curious (Blue)
182. Straw Dogs
183. Les Dames du Bois de Boulogne
184. by Brakhage: An Anthology
185. The Adventures of Antoine Doinel
186. Stolen Kisses
187. Bed and Board
188. Love on the Run
189. The White Sheik
190. Throne of Blood
191. Jubilee
192. Coup de Grâce
193. Quai des Orfevres
194. Il Posto
195. I Fidanzati
196. Hiroshima Mon Amour
197. Night and Fog
198. Ali: Fear Eats the Soul
199. Schizopolis
200. The Honeymoon Killers
201. Umberto D.
202. Terminal Station / Indiscretion of an American Wife
203. Fassbinder’s BRD Trilogy
204. The Marriage of Maria Braun
205. Veronika Voss
206. Lola
207. The Pornographers
208. A Film Trilogy by Ingmar Bergman
209. Through a Glass Darkly
210. Winter Light
211. The Silence
212. Ingmar Bergman Makes a Movie
213. Richard III
214. The Devil and Daniel Webster
215. Knife in the Water
216. Rules of the Game
217. Tokyo Story
218. Le Cercle Rouge
219. La Strada
220. Naked Lunch
221. Ikiru
222. Diary of a Country Priest
223. Maîtresse
224. Pickup on South Street
225. Tunes of Glory
226. Onibaba
227. Le Corbeau
228. Salvatore Giuliano
229. Scenes From a Marriage
230. 3 Women
231. The Testament of Dr. Mabuse
232. A Story of Floating Weeds / Floating Weeds
233. Stray Dog
234. The Tin Drum
235. The Leopard
236. Mamma Roma
237. Smiles of a Summer Night
238. A Woman Is a Woman
239. The Lower Depths: Double Feature
240. Early Summer
241. Stage and Spectacle: 3 Films by Jean Renoir
242. The Golden Coach
243. French Cancan
244. Elena and Her Men
245. Port of Shadows
246. I Vitelloni
247. Slacker
248. Videodrome
249. Battle of Algiers
250. John Cassavetes: Five Films
251. Shadows
252. Faces
253. A Woman Under the Influence
254. The Killing of a Chinese Bookie
255. Opening Night
256. A Constant Forge
257. Secret Honor
258. Tanner ‘88
259. Fat Girl
260. Eyes Without a Face
261. Fanny and Alexander Box Set
262. Fanny and Alexander (TV)
263. Fanny and Alexander (theatrical)
264. The Making of Fanny and Alexander
265. Short Cuts
266. King of Kings
267. Kagemusha
268. Youth of the Beast
269. Fighting Elegy
270. Casque d’Or
271. Touchez Pas au Grisbi
272. La commare secca
273. Thieves’ Highway
274. Night and the City
275. Tout Va Bien
276. The River
277. My Own Private Idaho
278. L’Eclisse
279. Young Törless
280. Sword of Doom
281. Jules et Jim
282. Andrzej Wajda: Three War Films
283. A Generation
284. Kanal
285. Ashes and Diamonds
286. Divorce, Italian Style
287. Burden of Dreams
288. F for Fake
289. Hoop Dreams
290. The Phantom of Liberty
291. Heaven Can Wait
292. Unfaithfully Yours
293. The Flowers of St. Francis
294. The Browning Version
295. Crazed Fruit
296. La notti bianche
297. Au Hasard Balthasar
298. Gate of Flesh
299. Story of a Prostitute
300. The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou
301. An Angel at My Table
302. Harakiri
303. Bad Timing
304. The Man Who Fell to Earth
305. Boudu Saved From Drowning
306. Le Samouraï
307. Naked
308. Masculin, Feminin
309. Ugetsu
310. Samurai Rebellion
311. Sword of the Beast
312. Samurai Spy
313. Kill!
314. Pickpocket
315. Shoot the Piano Player
316. Ran
317. Tales of Hoffmann
318. Forbidden Games
319. The Bad Sleep Well
320. Young Mr. Lincoln
321. The Virgin Spring
322. The Complete Mr. Arkadin
323. The Children Are Watching Us
324. La Bête Humaine
325. Kind Hearts and Coronets
326. Metropolitan
327. 3 Films by Louis Malle
328. Murmur of the Heart
329. Lacombe, Lucien
330. Au Revoir les Enfants
331. Late Spring
332. Viridiana
333. Fists in the Pocket
334. Harlan County USA
335. Elevator to the Gallows
336. Dazed and Confused
337. À Nos Amours
338. Equinox
339. Yi Yi
340. Koko: A Talking Gorilla
341. A Canterbury Tale
342. Six Moral Tales Box set
343. The Bakery Girl of Monceau
344. Suzanne’s Career
345. My Night at Maud’s
346. La Collectionneuse
347. Claire’s Knee
348. Love in the Afternoon
349. Kicking and Screaming
350. Seduced and Abandoned
351. The Spirit of the Beehive
352. Jigoku
353. Solo con tu pareja
354. Clean, Shaven
355. Hands Over the City
356. Sweetie
357. The Fallen Idol
358. Pandora’s Box
359. The Double Life of Veronique
360. Symbiopsychotaxiplasm: Two Takes
361. The Beales of Grey Gardens
362. Border Radio
363. Mouchette
364. Monsters and Madmen
365. First Man Into Space
366. The Atomic Submarine
367. The Haunted Stranglers
368. Corridors of Blood
369. Paul Robeson: Portraits of an Artist
370. The Emperor Jones / Paul Robeson: Tribute to an Artist
371. Body and Soul / Borderline
372. Sanders of the River / Jericho
373. The Proud Valley / Native Land
374. Bicycle Thieves
375. Green For Danger
376. 49th Parallel
377. When a Woman Ascends the Stairs
378. Fires on the Plain
379. The Burmese Harp
380. The Naked City
381. La Haine
382. Overlord
383. Brute Force
384. Vengeance Is Mine
385. Army of Shadows
386. Sansho the Bailiff
387. La Jetee / Sans Soleil
388. The Two of Us
389. WR: Mysteries of the Orga(ni)sm
390. Sweet Movie
391. if…
392. 3 Films by Hiroshi Teshigahara
393. Pitfall
394. Woman in the Dunes
395. The Face of Another
396. Ace in the Hole
397. Ivan’s Childhood
398. Les Enfants Terribles
399. House of Games
400. Stranger Than Paradise
401. Night on Earth
402. The Milky Way
403. Cria Cuervos
404. Robinson Crusoe on Mars
405. The Threepenny Opera
406. Martha Graham: Dance on Film
407. Mala Noche
408. Breathless
409. Days of Heaven
410. Under the Volcano
411. Berlin Alexanderplatz
412. Sawdust and Tinsel
413. Drunken Angel
414. Two-Lane Blacktop
415. The Naked Prey
416. Miss Julie
417. This Sporting Life
418. 4 x Agnes Varda
419. La Pointe Courte
420. Le Bonheur
421. Pierrot le fou
422. The Last Emperor
423. Walker
424. Mafioso
425. Antonio Gaudi
426. The Ice Storm
427. Death of a Cyclist
428. Blast of Silence
429. The Lovers
430. The Fire Within
431. The Thief of Bagdad
432. Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters
433. Patriotism
434. Classe Tous Risques
435. The Furies
436. Before the Rain
437. Vampyr
438. Mon Oncle Antoine
439. Trafic
440. Brand Upon the Brain!
441. The Small Back Room
442. Twenty-Four Eyes
443. La Ronde
444. Le Plaisir
445. The Earrings of Madame Dr…
446. An Autumn Afternoon
447. Le Doulos
448. Le Deuxieme Souffle
449. Missing
450. Bottle Rocket
451. Fanfan la Tulipe
452. The Spy Who Came In From the Cold
453. Chung King Express
454. Europa
455. White Dog
456. The Taking of Power by Louis XIV
457. Magnificent Obsession
458. El Norte
459. The Exterminating Angel
460. Simon of the Desert
461. Hobson’s Choice
462. The Last Metro
463. Il Generale Delle Rovere
464. Danton
465. Dodes’ka-den
466. Empire of Passion
467. In the Realm of the Senses
468. Science Is Fiction: 23 Films by Jean Painlevé
469. The Hit
470. Wise Blood
471. Pigs, Pimps and Prostitutes: 3 Films by Shohei Imamura
472. Intention of Murder
473. Pigs and Battleships
474. The Insect Woman
475. The Friends of Eddie Coyle
476. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
477. Bergman Island
478. Last Year at Marienbad
479. My Dinner With Andre
480. The Human Condition
481. Made in U.S.A.
482. 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her
483. Repulsion

Look for occasional reviews of my unseen Criterion selections, to be viewed and reviewed in no particular order other than the order which suits my personal whims. Until that happens, feel free to chime in with possible names for this column, as well as the inevitable “wait, you haven’t seen Hard Boiled / Kwaidan / Fishing With John yet?”-style remarks in the comments section below.

Making plans for the summer

Over at the always-hoppin’ Wexner Center for the Arts, everyone is gearing up for the upcoming summer season. Generally, during the summer the Wex runs a relatively light schedule, highlighted by a handful of recent releases and an always fun themed series of classic movies. Some series that they’ve run in recent years have been a tribute to “Cool Guys” ranging from Lee Marvin to Zbigniew Cybulski, a “Summer Abroad” featuring classic films from around the world, and last summer’s tribute to Stanley Kubrick, featuring every single one of his features (yes, including Fear and Desire, which was kind of disappointing in my opinion). Last week, Film/Video gurus Dave Filipi and Chris Stults announced this summer’s series, entitled Soundtrack Available: Music in American Film. Here’s the complete schedule:

Thu, July 2
7 PM 2nd Film 9 PM
Mean Streets
(Martin Scorsese, 1973)
Saturday Night Fever
(John Badham, 1977)

Thu, July 9
7 PM 2nd Film 9 PM
Purple Rain
(Albert Magnoli, 1984)
Beat Street
(Stan Lathan, 1984)

Thu, July 16
7 PM 2nd Film 9:10 PM
Velvet Goldmine
(Todd Haynes, 1998)
The Virgin Suicides
(Sofia Coppola, 1999)

Thu, July 23 7 PM
Dazed and Confused
(Richard Linklater, 1993)

Thu, July 23 Dusk
Free
Wex Drive-In
American Graffiti
(George Lucas, 1973)
Outdoors on the Wexner Center Plaza

Thu, July 30
7 PM 2nd Film 8:40 PM
Rushmore
(Wes Anderson, 1998)
Manhattan
(Woody Allen, 1979)

Thu, Aug 6
7 PM 2nd Film 9:25 PM
Urban Cowboy
(James Bridges, 1980)
The Graduate
(Mike Nichols, 1967)

Thu, Aug 13
7 PM 2nd Film 9:40 PM
Jackie Brown
(Quentin Tarantino, 1997)
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
(Amy Heckerling, 1982)

Thu, Aug 20 7 PM
New 40th Anniversary Print
Easy Rider
(Dennis Hopper, 1969)

Thu, Aug 20 Dusk
Free
Wex Drive-In
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
(Joel Coen, 2000)
Outdoors on the Wexner Center Plaza

Thu, Aug 27 7 PM
Magnolia
(Paul Thomas Anderson, 1999)

A pretty cool list overall, says I. Naturally, there are a few movies I would could’ve made the cut- Ghost Dog and Buffalo ‘66 would’ve fit perfectly here, to cite two examples that spring immediately to mind. But honestly, it’s hard to argue with anything they’ve chosen, even the ones I don’t particularly like. I really didn’t care much for Purple Rain when I last saw it in college, but that’s not the music’s fault. And while I’ve never been a fan of Fast Times, there’s no denying that the collective music-selecting acumen of Cameron Crowe and Amy Heckerling made for some of the movie’s best moments. O Brother, Where Art Thou? is a particularly inspired selection, considering that the Coens somehow turned an album full of old-timey country standards into one of the best-selling albums of 2001. I’m guessing I’ll be there pretty much every week, but the one I’m most pumped for is Manhattan, since I’m a complete pushover for black-and-white ‘Scope and I’ve never seen it on the big screen. And the restored print of Easy Rider promises to be gorgeous- the movie’s pretty flawed, but seeing it projected will allow me to bask in those beautiful Laszlo Kovacs lens flares.

More information on the series can be found here.

For those who are still hanging around...

I was just poking around the Web today when I realized that it’s been almost a month since I last updated this thing. All I can say is that I’ve been swamped with work lately, and with the Muriels coming up it’s only going to get business. But until I have time to write a proper post, I just thought I’d let you know that I’m still thinking about you. For the time being, I’ll link to my new reviews of The Wrestler, Revolutionary Road, and, erm… Hotel For Dogs. My viewing of the latter was occasioned by the Martin Luther King, Jr., Day holiday, when Angela had to work but I didn’t, so I got to keep an eye on the Offspring. As far as “Drag-Along Specials” go, Hotel For Dogs was the best one so far, although it’s not hard to top Star Wars: The Clone Wars or Beverly Hills Chihuahua.

Also, a note on the ratings. If you read the reviews, you may notice that I’ve given the same rating to Revolutionary Road and Hotel for Dogs (sorry Jason). Now, by no objective yardstick is Hotel for Dogs the aesthetic or artistic equal of Mendes’ film. On the other hand, I don’t think the two really deserve to be compared against each other. Whenever I rate a movie, I ask two questions: (1) what are the filmmakers setting out to do, and (2) how well did it work for me on those terms? Admittedly, Hotel for Dogs lacks the ambition of Revolutionary Road, but what it does, it does pretty okay. Whether you’re down with what it does is another question entirely. Personally, I don’t know if I’d recommend seeing it alone, but if the kids want to go it’s worth the trip.

Horror Marathon 2008 Lineup

October will upon us within the week, and soon enough will come this year's Horror Marathon at the Drexel Theatre. As always, I'm planning to go this year, although unlike previous years I may not be going alone. Of course, her interest in going will depend on her reaction to the following recently-announced lineup. Let's see what awaits us:

We'll start off with the classics, beginning with this old-school Wes Craven movie that I've yet to see. I imagine many of the Marathoners will have caught this numerous times, so it might not have the proper effect on me, what with the MST3K-ing and peanut gallery contributions. Still, should be a good time.

I was recently telling some buds that I've only seen one Mario Bava film, and since that movie is Planet of the Vampires, I'm not sure it really counts. But this movie should help me start boning up on my non-Argento giallo.

Now, this one I HAVE seen, and while it's not exactly my favorite Carpenter, I do enjoy the way he basically manufactured a horror movie out of little more than a smoke machine and some creepily-attired extras.

This one might be the deal breaker for Angela, given its brutal rep. I don't usually go for really violent exploitation stuff either, so we might duck out on it depending on where it's positioned on the program.

Another one I've seen, and while I'm not sure it belongs on a horror program, it should be fun to watch with this crowd. I can only imagine Angela's expression when I start singing along to the "Sodomy" number.

Finally, the two area premieres, both of which are pretty well-regarded, especially compared to some of the premieres they've screened in the past. Mandy Lane has become something of a cause celebre among horror buffs, given how it's been postponed and buried by its distributor. However, I'm even more curious about Let the Right One In, which is allegedly being remade by Hollywood in the near future. Then again, so was The Grudge, and that didn't exactly stop that one from sucking.

The Fifth Annual Incredible Two-Headed Marathon will be held from Saturday, October 18 until Sunday, October 19 at the Drexel East. Tickets are now on sale.

There's a Rainbow in Toronto...

... Unfortunately, I won't be following it this year.

There are several reasons for this. The first, of course, is money. Last year's trip was expensive, and I'm not sure I could afford it again without some serious scaling back in a lot of other areas. Between the cost of travel, lodging, and incidentals, to say nothing of the movies themselves, it was somewhat unrealistic of me to expect to return on a yearly basis in my current situation.

In addition, I'm currently planning some changes in my life starting this fall. I can't go into detail quite yet, except to say that they'll take up quite a bit of my time and would most likely make TIFFing unfeasible. But don't worry, it's nothing bad.

I'd be lying if I was to say I wouldn't miss it. Even though first year was my first TIFF experience, it was probably the best vacation I've taken in my life, and I met a lot of great people up there. I'd love to go again given the chance, but it'll just have to wait for now.

But don't feel too bad. Instead of the Toronto trip, I'll be making some smaller excursions this year. For example, I'm looking forward to taking Angela up to Cleveland for her birthday to see Radiohead. It's not the massive event TIFF is by any means, but it's just as special in its way- perhaps more so.

Enjoy Toronto, TIFF pals. I'll be with you in spirit this year. Until we meet again...

"By the power vested in me..."

"I'm an asshole... with an Uzi!"

"My body is a roadmap of pain."

"Sheriff! You are violating my territorial bubble!"

Jeffrey Combs is so awesome as Dammers. That is all.

A skill every cinephile should master

It happens to every movie lover. You'll be somewhere- a party, a family gathering, or what have you- and eventually a friend will tell remark that you're "really into movies." Sometimes the other person will nod his head in acknowledgement, but this doesn't happen often. More likely, you'll get one of two questions- either "what kind of movies do you like?" or "seen anything good lately?" Personally, I hate the first question- too damn vague for my tastes- and tend to fall back on my stock joke in that situation, "good ones!" Good thing that most people will ask the latter question.

But one thing not enough people will bear in mind when asked if they've seen anything good lately is that it's not simply an idle question. If someone is going to ask you this question, it's because they're looking for something good for themselves, and they're asking you in a form that sounds less self-serving than "can you recommend something good for me?" But of course, this is exactly what they're asking for, and this is your time to shine. One of the great pleasures for most movie lovers is turning others on to something great, so take this opportunity to use your knowledge for good. Some tips:

1. Know the person's tastes. This can be tricky if you've just met the person, so start out by mentioning recent blockbusters. Tell him you saw Iron Man, and compare it to other comic book movies you've enjoyed. Reference mostly obvious ones- Batman, Spider-Man, X-Men- and then throw in a Hellboy or something along those lines as a test. You'll generally be able to tell if a title is new to the other person by his expression. Then based on his reaction to the ones he hasn't seen, figure out which he seems most interested in and go from there.

2. When in doubt, pick something recent. Like it or not, most people are more comfortable with newer movies. If nothing else, they're easier to find at your local Blockbuster or in the vending machines that are starting to pop up all over the place. But if you know the person's tastes, don't simply fall back on the obvious stuff. Everyone has heard of No Country for Old Men and The Departed, so there's no reason to throw those out there. So pick something he might not otherwise have considered- something that doesn't really jump off the shelf at the video store the way the more hyped titles do. For a time, my favorite movie to recommend was The Prestige, because it wasn't a huge hit, but there's plenty of good stuff to satisfy the Saturday night renter- a good story, fine acting, lush production values, twists a-plenty, and so on. Best of all, it leaves people with plenty to talk about when it's over, and thus will provide a ready topic of conversation the next time you run into this person.

3. When it comes to older movies, choose wisely. One of the biggest differences between cinephiles and casual moviegoers is knowledge of directors. Oh sure, everyone knows Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg, but mention Douglas Sirk or F.W. Murnau and you'll most likely get a blank stare in return. So when you recommend a classic, do so with an eye to two factors- recognizable stars, and familiar genres. Most people don't have a wide base of knowledge when it comes to movies, but often they'll be enthusiasts of particular genres, and as such will have stars whose work they enjoy. Is the person into testosterone-packed "guy movies"? Go with something like Once Upon a Time in the West, which contains tough guy favorite Charles Bronson, the supremely evil Henry Fonda, and the not incidental charms of Claudia Cardinale. Have some standard answers for various genres- if someone asks you for something funny, The Lady Eve; if you're recommend something for a family, The Court Jester or even The Iron Giant. You get the idea.

4. Resist the urge to blow people's hair back with your knowledge. This can be difficult at times. You want to tell people about the new Roberto Rossellini box set. Hell, I once made the mistake of praising Hirokazu Kore-eda's Maborosi to my dad, who doesn't know Kore-eda from Corey Feldman. This, my friend, is how you lose people. Most people are resistant to subtitles, and have a low tolerance for artsy fare. When you're recommending movies, remember that the person asking you is doing so as a consumer. They want to be gently led to something they'll enjoy, not given the hard sell. As I said before, when recommending a movie, choose wisely. It means the difference between being a person's go-to guy for recommendations and being that guy with the weirdo tastes. Take it from me, being in the latter category isn't nearly as cool as it sounds.

Inspired by Esquire's recent list The 75 Skills Every Man Should Master, with a tip of the hat to Adam Ross and James Frazier.

Face Time #41 (We've met before. Haven't we.)

It is not my custom to go where I am not wanted.

A Belated Introduction, in List Form

Ever since I started writing for The Screengrab a little over a year ago, I've struggled to maintain a balance between my contributions there and the pieces I post here. At first, most of my energies were devoted to proving myself to my former editor Bilge Ebiri and the Screengrab readers, so my posting here went on the back burner. However, since the beginning of this year, things have begun to swing the other way.

Ironically, I think a lot of this has to do with the larger number of posts I'm expected to write for Screengrab nowadays. You'd think that the increased productivity would leave little room for my own blog, but you would be mistaken. Strange thing- now that I'm being asked to write more, I'm unable to post with the sort of depth and passion I once did when I wasn't contributing nearly as much. Sure, I still write some longer posts, but it's hard to stay inspired when I have to meet a quota of 10 per week. There's also the issue of sticking to the Screengrab format, which is fairly loose, but at the same time I can't just post any little thing. Pretty much everything I post over there has to be apropos of something or other, whether it's part of a regular feature or connected to a recent release or news item. I'm not complaining, mind you- I especially love the increased visibility I get from Screengrab- but it's something that weighs heavily on my mind at times.

I have no such concerns over here. I'm running the show, so I can post as I see fit. I may not write as much for this blog, but that frees me to write about things I feel passionate about, rather than simply to make money. More and more, I find that for all the work I do on Screengrab, I'm proudest of my contributions here, because they're much closer to my own sensibility, unmediated by someone else's format.

So for those relative newcomers who are curious as to what I'm all about as a writer, here's a list of five Screengrab pieces I've written since I joined the staff, and five posts from this blog from the same period, all of which I feel a special affection for in some way or other. I've listed them in rough order of preference, on the basis of how proud I am of them. Enjoy.

For Screengrab:

1. "A Stroll Through Jim Henson's Legacy" (19 March 2007)- I wrote this in response to a touring Henson retrospective that came to the Wexner Center last spring. My friend Chris, an assistant film/video curator at the Wex, informed me later that he forwarded the piece to the Henson Foundation, where it was well-received. But the real reason I'm particularly fond of my Henson piece is because it finally allowed me to connect with my mother through my writing. My mother has never been a big movie buff, but she's always loved the Muppets, and I was happy to finally have a chance to write something she would enjoy.

2. "Forgotten Films: Privilege (1967, Peter Watkins)" (2 April 2007)- I wrote this piece a little more than a month after I joined the Screengrab team, and nearly a year later, I believe it's still the piece that's gotten the most attention from the movie blogosphere. In a way, the Privilege piece is a microcosm of what draws me to write about film- the opportunity to view unique and special works and then commend other moviegoers to see them as well. If they can, that is, although a Privilege DVD is supposedly in the works.

3. "The Movie Moment: Cries and Whispers" (3 August 2007)- the month or so after Bilge stepped down from the Screengrab editor spot and Peter Smith took over was a tense time for me. I was worried about how I would fit into the new guy's vision of the site (which was somewhat more populist), and one of the big changes for me was that I had to sweat word counts for the first time. In particular, my first few Movie Moment pieces after the regime change bears the marks of heavy editing, both on my part and Peter's. It wasn't until this piece, which doubled as a remembrance of one of my filmmaking idols, that I was able to find my groove again. I think the fact that it was Bergman allowed me to focus my writing in a way I couldn't have done with filmmakers to whom I wasn't so close. The result, I think, was a fitting tribute to a major figure in my moviegoing life.

4. "The Movie Moment: La Belle Noiseuse" (26 April 2007)- I've sometimes made the joke that "writing would be so much better if I didn't have to actually write." On the one hand, it comes off as a non sequitur a la Yogi Berra, but there's a grain of truth to it. I love to create, but the actual writing can be difficult and even torturous, like trying to squeeze toothpaste from an empty tube. One major exception for me was my Movie Moment piece on this Rivette masterwork. I sometimes tie myself in knots just trying to think of a suitable subject for my Movie Moment pieces, but this time it just dawned on me while I was watching the film. As the scene transpired, I reached for my pen and a sheet of paper and wrote down exactly one note (the line "you get stuck inside of what you’re searching for") then let the piece brew in my head as the film kept going. Then I went home and wrote the piece in roughly 45 minutes, which for me is unheard of. If only it always went this smoothly, I could maybe even finish my screenplay.

5. "The Most Unnecessary Sequels of All Time: Alien Resurrection" (21 June 2007)- I've always had a hard time writing funny. So while I always try to contribute to Screengrab's weekly lists, I tend to fear that my contributions are a little too light on the comedy to fit in with the others. However, I've been able to sneak in the occasional bon mot amid the film-nerdy stuff, and my favorite is still my piece on the gratuitousness and overall suckitude of the fourth Alien film. Now, I'm not usually one to laugh at my own jokes, but I still can't believe I came up with this line: "If Alien³ was beating a dead horse, then Alien: Resurrection was like molding the pulverized horse meat back into a pretty horsey shape, then beating it some more."

For Silly Hats Only:

1. "The Quiet Man in the Easy Chair" (2 Feb 2008)- I normally confine my writing to film-related subjects, but the death of my grandfather was too important not to mention, and I'm happy that I was able to do so in this forum. Thanks again to everyone for their kind sentiments.

2. Muriel Awards 2007 (Feb 2008)- Cheating here, but what the hell. The first year of the Muriels was a blast, but this year was when I felt the Muriels really made their mark. Rather than just a group of people voting for movies they liked and occasionally writing something about them, it became a full-on multi-blog collaboration, and this was Muriels Central. My gratitude to everyone who was able to participate this year, be it as a voter, a writer, or simply plugging the awards on your own sites. I'm already looking forward to next year's Muriels.

3. "The Movies of My Life #3" (22 March 2008)- Too soon? Maybe by some people's standards, but I think that this piece, occasioned by a viewing of 2001 after Arthur C. Clarke's death, is the closest I've come yet to summing up what I really value about Web-based film writing. More than anything I've written here thusfar, I think this post strikes the perfect balance between the personal and the film-nerdy, a goal to which I frequently aspire here but almost never achieve.

4. "gravida (2007, Lucas McNelly)" (8 August 2007)- Even with my Screengrab writing, I'm a little stunned when others refer to me as an honest-to-goodness critic. So I was both taken aback and extremely honored when Lucas, a first-year Muriels voter, asked me to write a review of his latest short film. As someone who struggled for years without success to get a short film project off the ground, I have respect for anyone who is able to see his vision through despite a highly competitive and often hostile environment. That the short turned out to be really damn good only helped matters- Lucas is the sort of filmmaker I would want to spotlight even if I didn't know him, and now that gravida is slowly gaining a fan base, I'm proud to have been involved with the film from a fairly early phase.

5. "Cinema Is a Bird, or Something" (24 April 2008)- As I said before, writing can be a struggle for me, and often I find that I'm too busy hunting for just the right words to be especially self-conscious about my own thinking and/or writing processes. It took a somewhat awkward Q&A with filmmaker Ernie Gehr to help me really nail down my own feelings, first in my mind and then on the page. Enjoy it folks, because it will probably the closest I'll ever get to penning my own statement of purpose as a movie lover.

The Movies of My Life #3

Note: I hadn't intended to post a third "Movies of My Life" piece so soon, but the recent passing of Arthur C. Clarke prompted me to watch 2001: A Space Odyssey yet again. However, I feel woefully underqualified to eulogize Clarke, not having read any of his work other than The Sentinel, the short story that inspired Kubrick's film. So instead of trying, I'd like to instead post my thoughts about the film itself. My apologies, Mr. Clarke, and rest in peace.

When I was 5 or 6, I wanted nothing more than to be an astronaut. This being in the couple of years prior to the Challenger disaster, I would always try to watch whenever the Space Shuttle liftoffs were televised. But what really captured my imagination were the children's books about space. I couldn't tell you the titles, but I do remember seeing the pictures of space stations and rocket ships and colonies on the moon, and my heart jumped in excitement. It blew my mind that there was another world out there besides our own. What I didn't know at the time was that these books were fantasy- I assumed that since there were other planets in the universe, we lived on them much in the same way we did on Earth. But fantasy or not, it mattered little- I wanted to go into space.


Eventually, that dream gave way to other lofty, short-lived dreams, which in turn gave way to much less ambitious ones. In the meantime, I watched movies, some of which were science fiction. It wasn't until my 8th grade year that I first saw 2001: A Space Odyssey on video, and after that first viewing I didn't like it all that well. But of course I didn't- having grown up on Star Wars and Star Trek had given me concrete ideas of what science fiction was, and 2001 didn't fit the bill. It was too slow, too quiet, and the last twenty minutes lost me altogether. I would imagine that it's this way for most people who see 2001 for the first time.

Yet there was something indeniably impressive about the movie. First off, the effects were mindblowing- I had a hard time believing the movie was made nearly a decade before Star Wars. And several sequences worked very well for me, particularly the first post-intermission sequence in which HAL takes his revenge. My respect for the film grew over time, and when I finally was able to see it again- on the big screen this time- I wondered how I could have missed so much the first time around. No longer an inaccessible piece of Art, it was now an object of endless fascination.


2001 is practically unique among Hollywood films in that it doesn't merely benefit from multiple viewings, but requires them. Kubrick famously challenged Arthur C. Clarke to help him make the proverbial "good science fiction film", and the big reason why the film can be so hard to digest on the first go-round is because it becomes so easy to get hung up on what 2001 isn't to appreciate what it is. It isn't until we've had our palates cleansed, so to speak, that we can finally approach it afresh.

Since then, I've seen the movie more than just about any other, watching it at least once a year on VHS or, later, DVD, and catching it on the big screen every time it comes to town. One reason why it holds up so well is because Kubrick refuses to pin down the story to any single discernible theme. Over the years, I've viewed the film through the prisms of various pet theories, usually of my own formulation. For example, I remember a time during my college years when I was obsessed with the idea that the entire Jupiter mission was a birth metaphor, with the Discovery being a penis, the "time slot" a vagina, and the hotel room the uterus. I remember being especially proud of myself for coming up with this without any help, as if the fact that the film ends with the birth of the Star Child wasn't clue enough for me to figure it out.


When I watched the film again tonight, what really stuck out this time was Kubrick's use of horizontal and vertical axes in the film. Time and again Kubrick portrays the characters' humdrum behavior on a horizontal plan, from the pre-humans in the Dawn of Man sequence scurrying back and forth, to the way Kubrick frames Frank as he jugs around the crew quarters as the camera pans laterally. Even the frame itself- the film is shot in Panavision and Cinerama- accentuates the horizontal plane.

Whenever an object is completely vertical in the frame, it breaks this comfortable plane and points the way into the great unknown. When the pre-humans first discover the monolith, it stands to defiantly against the landscape that they can't help but be in awe. Hell, it points in such an unfamiliar direction that the top of the monolith is above the top of the frame. Throughout the film, true progress is represented by vertical movement or positioning of an object. This is as true at the beginning of the film (the moon rises over the Earth then the sun rises over the moon) as it is at the end. Consider that the Dave's final act before becoming the Star Child is raising his hand and pointing upward.


Through this technique and many others, Kubrick jolts viewers out of their lazy viewing patters, and one of the common motifs of the movie is the way its human characters too must be shocked out their complacent behavior. One thing that always amuses me when I see 2001 is how nonchalant so many of the characters are about space travel. There's a short scene aboard a moon shuttle in which Dr. Floyd and some of his colleagues are discussing a newly-discovered monolith on the moon. Here are three guys talking about one of the most monumental discoveries in human history- one which by all available evidence "appears to have been deliberately buried" (!)- and they act like it's no big deal. They seem just as concerned with the quality of the sandwiches that were packed for them, and indeed one of the scientists interrupts the discussion to go get some coffee. Then there's the scene when the scientists see the moon monolith for themselves- their first impulse is to pull out the camera and pose for photographs like they're sightseeing. But the monolith won't be ignored, emitting a loud radio shriek that shocks not only the scientists but the audience as well.

2001 comes as close to the idea of "pure cinema" as any movie I've ever seen. Kubrick doesn't do away with dialogue completely, but it's purely functional and meant to help along the human story. Yet it eventually becomes clear that the human story in 2001 is fairly insignificant. If there's a character arc in the film, it's doesn't belong to any one person (or tangible intelligent entity) but to mankind itself, as we see the human race ascend from the apes, and later to help create a new, still more advanced, type of being. All the while we're guided "onward and upward" into the unknown by something larger than us- call it an advanced intelligence or even God- which calls us into space before pulling us, in the film's words, "beyond the infinite."


Truly visionary art has always served much the same purposes as Kubrick's monoliths- to show us the way. Yet I can't help but think of my own fantasies of space flight, which have long since given way to my current great love of cinema. As passionately as I love film, I nonetheless miss the days when I could freely dream without worrying how unrealistic such dreams were. I also worry that as art becomes capable of showing us practically anything, that more people will use it less to facilitate their own dreams than as a means to live vicariously through the dreams of others. After all, the year 2001 has come and gone, and the space station isn't even finished, to say nothing of lunar colonies and manned interplanetary exploration. Is it enough for us to view a big-as-life simulation of something wondrous rather than trying to experience it ourselves? Must we wait to be jolted out of our tiny lives before we see how much more awaits us?

Join us now and live in peace.

Despite their recent troubles, the Drexel Theatres have gone ahead with this year's 25th Annual Ohio 24-Hour Science Fiction Marathon, and right on schedule- from noon on Saturday, April 19th, until noon on Sunday the 20th. I had feared that the move to the Drexel East would have forced Marathon paterfamilias Bruce Bartoo to scale back the proceedings to twelve hours like they've had to do with October's horror marathons, but happily this isn't the case. In fact, they actually wrangled a guest this year, for the first time in a while. The guest of honor?


None other than Academy Award™-winning actress Patricia Neal. Neal will be at the Drexel on Friday the 18th to help the Drexel celebrate its 70th Anniversary, and she's graciously agreed to stick around an extra day to appear at the Sci-Fi Marathon and no doubt be bombarded by questions about Marathon favorite The Day the Earth Stood Still.

Now, I realize that Neal isn't as young as she once was, and the Marathon has had some trouble with other elderly guests they've booked, as when Kevin McCarthy had to cancel at the last minute due to illness a few years back. But considering that Neal is already confirmed for the Drexel shindig the previous night, I'm pretty sure her Marathon gig will stick as well.

Along with The Day the Earth Stood Still, Bruce has confirmed four titles thusfar: the fifties rarity Stranger From Venus (also starring Neal), the AIP crapsterpiece Journey to the Seventh Planet, John Hurt and Richard Burton in 1984, and the Indonesian ripoff Lady Terminator. If that lineup doesn't exactly blow your hair back, bear in mind that the eccentricities of booking often leads to the more high-profile titles not being locked down until later in the game.

No matter- consider my ticket bought. If you're down too, tickets for the marathon- which has been named "Journey to the Seventh Theatre"- are currently on sale at the Drexel Theatres, and other options for buying can be found at the official Marathon site. Bruce and company are also putting on a "Halfathon" from midnight until noon, although I can't imagine that doing nearly as well- not simply because Neal won't be at that one, but also because SF geeks are a proud bunch who wouldn't be caught dead in a 12-hour marathon when a full-on 24-hour one was in the auditorium just next door.

The Movies of My Life #2

We all have movies we love, and movies to which we feel a particular closeness. Most of these movies are legitimately great, but our love for them transcends quality. Sometimes, these movies are widely loved, and as such they become a common currency among all those who love them. Such was the case with the subject of my first "Movies of My Life" column back in December, Back to the Future. However, it's not like this for all the movies we love. Occasionally, we feel close to movies that no one else seems to love as much as we do, or at least no one we know. For me, the best example of this is François Ozon's 2002 film, 8 Women.

I first read about the film in early 2002 in Film Comment. I had been a fan of Ozon's film Under the Sand previously, but my interest in the film was only mildly due to his involvement. Much more of a factor for me was the film's cast, a veritable who's-who of French leading ladies- Danielle Darrieux, Isabelle Huppert, Fanny Ardant, Emmanuelle Béart, and particularly Catherine Deneuve, who was my favorite then as now. In the months leading up to the film, I read up on it as much as I could, and occasionally checked out reviews of the film- carefully though, so I wouldn't spoil my first viewing. The film's reception was fairly warm overall, although high marks from the notoriously tough Mike D'Angelo gave me a lot of hope.

As the film's U.S. release drew closer, I remember talking about 8 Women to all of my friends, and when I did this I noticed that they didn't share my enthusiasm for it. They sometimes concurred that it could be good, but they really weren't all that excited to see it. But while I was a little taken aback by their apathy, I wasn't about to let them bring me down. I signed off work on the Friday it was getting released here. I asked the manager of the local arthouse if I could have the one-sheet once they'd finished with it. Hell, in the week before the movie's local release I tried to watch one movie by each of 8 Women's leading ladies. I almost succeeded too, but for my inability to find anything with Firmine Richard, but I still remember the other movies I watched that week- Merci Pour le Chocolat (Huppert), Nelly et M. Arnaud (Béart), Confidentially Yours (Ardant), La Ronde (Darrieux), A Single Girl (Virginie Ledoyen), Water Drops on Burning Rocks (Ludivine Sagnier), and of course Belle de Jour (Deneuve). As far as I was concerned, 8 Women was destined to be awesome.


And do you know what? It was. I was practically the only one in the theatre on the Friday afternoon in mid-December when I first saw 8 Women, but I didn't care one bit. The movie was as I'd imagined it, only better. Every song was a joy, every delicious turn of the plot a pleasure, and the melancholy final scene nearly did me in. When I walked out of the auditorium after the end credits rolled, I knew there was only one thing to do. I walked right up to the box office and bought a ticket to the next show, something I was prone to doing occasionally in those days, back when I had time for it. So began my 8 Women-fueled high, and all told, I saw 8 Women four times in the week and a half it played in Columbus, and would no doubt have seen it many more times had I gotten the chance.

At the same time, the apathy I'd sensed from those I'd spoken with about the film prior to its release had infected the local press. The critic for the Columbus Dispatch gave it a respectful three-star review, but others weren't so kind. A snarky-ass article (I wouldn't even call it a review) in The Other Paper dismissed it as "a movie for and about drag queens" and spent much of the allotted word count discussing the viability of a Hollywood remake, as if it was Three Men and a Cradle or something. I began to wonder how they could miss the delights I'd seen in the film, nearly all of which had presented themselves to me on that first viewing.


So I did the first thing that came to mind- I wrote about 8 Women, again and again. I toyed with the idea of dashing off a tirade about shitty alt-weekly critics who care more about getting laughs from their readers than they do about giving films a fair shake (still a topic worth considering, mind you), but I decided against it. Instead, I threw my energy into writing about the film itself, not just my original review of the film itself, but tributes/mash notes to both Huppert and Sagnier, as well as shorter odes to the film on every top 10 list I had I chance to contribute for the year. All told, I'd say I wrote as much about 8 Women as I've written about any movie I've seen, before or since. And in the process, my love for the film became almost possessive, as though it was practically "my movie."

Then a funny thing happened- for a few years, I became anxious about revisiting the film. For whatever reason, I imagined that my love for the film had been all out of proportion with its actual quality, that maybe my desire for it to be awesome caused me to see the film with hopeful, enthusiastic eyes, and that in the process I lost my ability to see it objectively. Could it be that the naysayers were- gasp- right after all?

Finally, I decided just to watch the film again, to put my anxieties to rest. And I'll be damned if the movie wasn't as great as it had ever been. Watching it with new eyes was a strange yet wonderful experience for me. That initial rush was gone, but if anything the increased objectivity had given me a greater respect for what the film was doing (compare the gushing tone of my original review to the Movie Moment column I devoted to the film last March). At the same time, I was better able to see why not everyone shared my love for the film. For me, it's irresistible, but it's also a strange creature, a blissed-out mashup of Agatha Christie and dinner-theatre production numbers. It's got plenty to groove on for both francophiles and actressexuals, but it's also clearly not for everyone.


And do you know what? I'm OK with that. Some movies are made more or less for everyone, and others only for those who are on the film's wavelength. I still hope for the day when I meet other people with whom I can quote dialogue or who will pick up on when I'm humming "Papa t'es Plus Dans l'Coup" or "A Quoi Sert le Vivre Libre." But such things are incidental to how I feel about the movie. Whether others share my love for it, 8 Women will always feel like my movie. And with the movies we love, isn't that what truly matters?