(Originally posted 7 September 2007 on The Screengrab. Reprinted with permission.)
Memory is a tricky concept to convey cinematically, and I often find myself unsatisfied with flashback sequences meant to represent someone's memory. These scenes play out just like scenes in the present tense, and we're expected to believe that the character in question remembers an entire conversation word-for-word. For me anyway, this is rarely the case. More often than not, I retain small but crucial details — a gesture, a scent, the color of someone's clothes, maybe a sentence or two.
More than anything, it's faces that linger in my memory, and this is the subject of Chris Marker's masterpiece La Jetée. What sets La Jetée apart from more conventional films about memory is that it's what Marker called a "photo-roman" — a photographic novel. In other words, Marker tells his story entirely through still images. Well, almost entirely — more on that later.
In the words of the film's narrator, La Jetée "is the story of a man haunted by an image of his childhood." His memory is the face of a woman. The protagonist first saw this woman on the pier at Orly Airport just as she was witnessing a murder. Years later, the man survives a nuclear war and the destruction of Paris, only to be imprisoned. His captors decide to use him for time travel experiments. In the words of the narrator, "this man was selected only because he was glued to an image of his past."
After weeks of experiments, the man begins to find his way to the past. He sees Paris standing again, and animals and children. He finds the woman from his childhood, and eventually they establish a kind of relationship. "They have no memories, no plans," says the narrator. "Time builds painlessly around them."
In one especially wonderful scene, he simply watches her sleep, and Marker shows us this entirely from the man's perspective. With nothing on the soundtrack but the chirping of birds in the morning sun, we are shown a series of twelve shots. The first eleven are still images of the sleeping woman, but in the twelfth, something magical and unexpected happens- her eyes open, and she sleepily stares at the man with a look of pure love. It's a simple idea, not really an effect at all. But Marker has so beautifully told his story through still photos that this momentary rupture becomes particularly poignant.
In the words of the narrator, "nothing tells memories from ordinary moments. Only afterwards do they claim remembrance, on account of their scars." Yes, but the scars aren't always painful. By the end of the film, the memory of the woman quaking in fear has been replaced in the man's mind by her loving gaze. And when he opts to live out the rest of his days with her, that's the image he carries of her in his heart as he runs to her on the Orly pier to meet his inevitable end.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Movie Moment Redux: Silent Light (2007, Carlos Reygadas)
(Originally posted 21 September 2007 on The Screengrab. Reprinted with permission.)
Despite the sensational buzz for Carlos Reygadas’ Silent Light at Cannes, I approached the film with a bit of trepidation. I didn’t much care for Reygadas’ previous features, Japon and Battle in Heaven. I could see that he was a talented director, but his attention-grabbing tactics and leaden symbolism made it feel like he was trying too hard. A director who films a shot of a man writhing in agony next to a horse’s corpse is just aching to be taken seriously.
But all of my doubts melted away during the glorious opening shot of Silent Light. The film begins with an image of a starry sky, with nothing but chirping crickets on the soundtrack. The camera than pans slowly downward until we see the horizon in the distance. After this, the sun slowly rises, and we begin to make out the rolling hills, and a few trees. As the sun continues to rise, the soundtrack begins to teem with life — chickens, cows, and the like — and we see a farm. All the while, the camera ever-so-slowly pushes forward toward the horizon, as the sun rises higher and higher above the hills.
If I wasn’t sure before whether Reygadas was worth taking seriously, this shot put my misgivings to rest. Simply put, it’s a stunner, partly because Reygadas makes it feel so effortless. It’s an extremely patient shot, taking at least five minutes, and in this time he acclimatizes us to the deliberateness of the film’s world. Silent Light is set in a Mennonite community in Mexico, far removed from fast-paced modern life, where people speak slowly and aren’t prone to snap decisions. The film’s opening shot prepares us for this beautifully.
The eminent Catholic film blogger Victor Morton has theorized that the film’s opening shot is a distillation of the Biblical creation story. Reygadas begins with the stars, then adds light, nature, and "nature shaped by man", before finally cutting to the world of man. This theory makes a lot of sense — as a film about a religious community, Silent Light is steeped in religious imagery, and so it’s only fitting that the story should begin as the Bible does. By extension, Reygadas’ opening shot is an act of creation in itself, with the film’s world manifesting itself before our eyes.
But the power of the opening shot of Silent Light is apparent even to people who aren’t religious. This is because Reygadas has taken a phenomenon we all take for granted — who hasn’t seen the sun rise thousands of times? — and shown it to us in a new context. A subtle bit of time-lapse photography aside, he doesn’t try to transform the sunrise with blatant cinematic trickery, but simply invites us to really look at it. A visionary filmmaker invites filmgoers to see the world through his eyes, and based on Silent Light I’d say Reygadas qualifies as a visionary. The opening shot is a masterpiece in itself, and the rest of the film somehow lives up to it. I’ll never doubt Reygadas again.
Despite the sensational buzz for Carlos Reygadas’ Silent Light at Cannes, I approached the film with a bit of trepidation. I didn’t much care for Reygadas’ previous features, Japon and Battle in Heaven. I could see that he was a talented director, but his attention-grabbing tactics and leaden symbolism made it feel like he was trying too hard. A director who films a shot of a man writhing in agony next to a horse’s corpse is just aching to be taken seriously.
But all of my doubts melted away during the glorious opening shot of Silent Light. The film begins with an image of a starry sky, with nothing but chirping crickets on the soundtrack. The camera than pans slowly downward until we see the horizon in the distance. After this, the sun slowly rises, and we begin to make out the rolling hills, and a few trees. As the sun continues to rise, the soundtrack begins to teem with life — chickens, cows, and the like — and we see a farm. All the while, the camera ever-so-slowly pushes forward toward the horizon, as the sun rises higher and higher above the hills.
If I wasn’t sure before whether Reygadas was worth taking seriously, this shot put my misgivings to rest. Simply put, it’s a stunner, partly because Reygadas makes it feel so effortless. It’s an extremely patient shot, taking at least five minutes, and in this time he acclimatizes us to the deliberateness of the film’s world. Silent Light is set in a Mennonite community in Mexico, far removed from fast-paced modern life, where people speak slowly and aren’t prone to snap decisions. The film’s opening shot prepares us for this beautifully.
The eminent Catholic film blogger Victor Morton has theorized that the film’s opening shot is a distillation of the Biblical creation story. Reygadas begins with the stars, then adds light, nature, and "nature shaped by man", before finally cutting to the world of man. This theory makes a lot of sense — as a film about a religious community, Silent Light is steeped in religious imagery, and so it’s only fitting that the story should begin as the Bible does. By extension, Reygadas’ opening shot is an act of creation in itself, with the film’s world manifesting itself before our eyes.
But the power of the opening shot of Silent Light is apparent even to people who aren’t religious. This is because Reygadas has taken a phenomenon we all take for granted — who hasn’t seen the sun rise thousands of times? — and shown it to us in a new context. A subtle bit of time-lapse photography aside, he doesn’t try to transform the sunrise with blatant cinematic trickery, but simply invites us to really look at it. A visionary filmmaker invites filmgoers to see the world through his eyes, and based on Silent Light I’d say Reygadas qualifies as a visionary. The opening shot is a masterpiece in itself, and the rest of the film somehow lives up to it. I’ll never doubt Reygadas again.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Movie Moment Redux
A few weeks ago, I was talking with a friend of mine about Phantom of the Paradise, and I wanted to cite something from my old Movie Moment piece on the film. However, when I tried to click the link on my site, the piece was gone. Or so it seemed, anyway- due to some funky Internet magic, the URLs listed under my links don't seem to work anymore, although with some creative googling one can (eventually) find Screengrab 1.0. But to save you the effort, I've decided- with the permission of my old editor Peter Smith- to re-post my favorite pieces here. I'm going to begin with my original series, The Movie Moment, to be followed by others I deem worthy of re-posting. I can't say how soon I'll get this done. Let's just say I'll do it when I have the time. Anyway, here's one I'm particularly fond of. Enjoy, either again or for the first time.
The Movie Moment: La Belle Noiseuse (1991, Jacques Rivette)
(Originally posted 26 April 2007. Reprinted with permission.)
I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but in the U.S, the popular refrain on Jacques Rivette is that he’s one of the greatest of French filmmakers, and one whose work hasn’t been nearly as widely seen as it should be. A major reason for his relatively small audience has always been the films’ running times — nearly all of them are over two hours long, with many of them over three hours and his longest clocking in at more than twelve hours. Rivette is hardly the only filmmaker who specializes in long movies, but unlike many others who do, he rarely uses the extra time to expand the plot. Instead, he lengthens the scenes themselves, allowing them to play out at a natural speed rather than trimming them down for the sake of keeping the story moving. For example, early in Out 1 (1971) he devotes well over half an hour to a scene in which a troupe of actors take part in an acting exercise which consists mostly of animalistic grunting and screaming.
Nowhere is Rivette’s flair for long, luxurious scenes more in evidence than La Belle Noiseuse (1991). While Celine and Julie Go Boating (1974) may be his most acclaimed movie, Noiseuse is perhaps his most widely seen, not least because long stretches of the movie show Emmanuelle Beart in the altogether. However, the real subject of La Belle Noiseuse isn’t Beart’s rockin’ bod — though that certainly helped put butts in the seats — but rather the creative process. Of all the movies I’ve seen on the subject, I don’t think any has captured it as perfectly as Rivette does here.
La Belle Noiseuse tells the story of Edouard Frenhofer (Michel Piccoli), a respected painter who hasn’t worked in years, and Marianne (Beart), the lover of Nicolas, a younger artist. When Nicolas goes to meet Frenhofer, the elder artist takes special notice of the young woman he’s brought along, and when she is elsewhere, they agree that she will model for him as he attempts to paint an ambitious work he abandoned over a decade ago, entitled “La Belle Noiseuse.” While Marianne is appalled by the idea at first, she eventually agrees, for her own reasons. But while the plot synopsis might lead a viewer to expect a tawdry melodrama like Indecent Proposal, Rivette’s film isn’t about sex, but about art.
On their first day in the studio, Frenhofer decides to sketch Marianne in ink, as a preliminary step before breaking out the paints and canvas. After she disrobes (all Frenhofer’s paintings are nudes) he sketches her body in various positions before he decides to simply draw her face. Marianne puts her hair up using a spare paintbrush, and then Frenhofer begins.
This scene is where Rivette’s use of long takes pays off beautifully. Once Frenhofer has begun sketching Marianne’s portrait, the film cuts to a stationary shot of the sketch being committed to paper. As several minutes pass, we see Frenhofer’s hands (supplied by artist Bernard Dufour) recreate Marianne’s face on paper. First the rough outlines of her head and features are drawn in, then more detail, and finally Frenhofer uses a wet brush to put some shading into the sketch. Finally, after Frenhofer has finished, Rivette cuts to a shot of the artist at his drawing table, studying the sketch, and setting down his pen and exhaling, satisfied.
For Frenhofer and for most people who create, scenes like this are few and far between. As we see in the next three hours, painting is an arduous process for Frenhofer, and not incidentally, for Marianne, whom he ends up twisting into more convoluted positions in an attempt to find the perfect one. At one point in the film, he even mentions that all of his best paintings have some of his own blood on the canvas, since he’s worked so hard to paint them. Such a blinkered creative process borders on the obsessive, but being a creative person myself, I could certainly relate.
Moments like the one Frenhofer has when sketching Marianne’s face can be a godsend to an artist, no matter what his medium. When attempting to create a serious work of art, as Frenhofer says, “you get stuck inside of what you’re searching for,” and the process can become frustrating or even painful. But occasionally inspiration and perspiration can come together perfectly and sublimely, and when this happens, this motivates you to press onward. In fact, they can make all the difference between a work that gets finished and one that gets abandoned. That’s why Frenhofer’s final gesture after completing the sketch is so telling. Because he works so hard, often to so little avail, he knows better than to let a small victory like this pass him by. And so, he just sets down his pen, looks over the sketch, and enjoys the moment, much like I’m going to do right now.
The Movie Moment: La Belle Noiseuse (1991, Jacques Rivette)
(Originally posted 26 April 2007. Reprinted with permission.)
I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but in the U.S, the popular refrain on Jacques Rivette is that he’s one of the greatest of French filmmakers, and one whose work hasn’t been nearly as widely seen as it should be. A major reason for his relatively small audience has always been the films’ running times — nearly all of them are over two hours long, with many of them over three hours and his longest clocking in at more than twelve hours. Rivette is hardly the only filmmaker who specializes in long movies, but unlike many others who do, he rarely uses the extra time to expand the plot. Instead, he lengthens the scenes themselves, allowing them to play out at a natural speed rather than trimming them down for the sake of keeping the story moving. For example, early in Out 1 (1971) he devotes well over half an hour to a scene in which a troupe of actors take part in an acting exercise which consists mostly of animalistic grunting and screaming.
Nowhere is Rivette’s flair for long, luxurious scenes more in evidence than La Belle Noiseuse (1991). While Celine and Julie Go Boating (1974) may be his most acclaimed movie, Noiseuse is perhaps his most widely seen, not least because long stretches of the movie show Emmanuelle Beart in the altogether. However, the real subject of La Belle Noiseuse isn’t Beart’s rockin’ bod — though that certainly helped put butts in the seats — but rather the creative process. Of all the movies I’ve seen on the subject, I don’t think any has captured it as perfectly as Rivette does here.
La Belle Noiseuse tells the story of Edouard Frenhofer (Michel Piccoli), a respected painter who hasn’t worked in years, and Marianne (Beart), the lover of Nicolas, a younger artist. When Nicolas goes to meet Frenhofer, the elder artist takes special notice of the young woman he’s brought along, and when she is elsewhere, they agree that she will model for him as he attempts to paint an ambitious work he abandoned over a decade ago, entitled “La Belle Noiseuse.” While Marianne is appalled by the idea at first, she eventually agrees, for her own reasons. But while the plot synopsis might lead a viewer to expect a tawdry melodrama like Indecent Proposal, Rivette’s film isn’t about sex, but about art.
On their first day in the studio, Frenhofer decides to sketch Marianne in ink, as a preliminary step before breaking out the paints and canvas. After she disrobes (all Frenhofer’s paintings are nudes) he sketches her body in various positions before he decides to simply draw her face. Marianne puts her hair up using a spare paintbrush, and then Frenhofer begins.
This scene is where Rivette’s use of long takes pays off beautifully. Once Frenhofer has begun sketching Marianne’s portrait, the film cuts to a stationary shot of the sketch being committed to paper. As several minutes pass, we see Frenhofer’s hands (supplied by artist Bernard Dufour) recreate Marianne’s face on paper. First the rough outlines of her head and features are drawn in, then more detail, and finally Frenhofer uses a wet brush to put some shading into the sketch. Finally, after Frenhofer has finished, Rivette cuts to a shot of the artist at his drawing table, studying the sketch, and setting down his pen and exhaling, satisfied.
For Frenhofer and for most people who create, scenes like this are few and far between. As we see in the next three hours, painting is an arduous process for Frenhofer, and not incidentally, for Marianne, whom he ends up twisting into more convoluted positions in an attempt to find the perfect one. At one point in the film, he even mentions that all of his best paintings have some of his own blood on the canvas, since he’s worked so hard to paint them. Such a blinkered creative process borders on the obsessive, but being a creative person myself, I could certainly relate.
Moments like the one Frenhofer has when sketching Marianne’s face can be a godsend to an artist, no matter what his medium. When attempting to create a serious work of art, as Frenhofer says, “you get stuck inside of what you’re searching for,” and the process can become frustrating or even painful. But occasionally inspiration and perspiration can come together perfectly and sublimely, and when this happens, this motivates you to press onward. In fact, they can make all the difference between a work that gets finished and one that gets abandoned. That’s why Frenhofer’s final gesture after completing the sketch is so telling. Because he works so hard, often to so little avail, he knows better than to let a small victory like this pass him by. And so, he just sets down his pen, looks over the sketch, and enjoys the moment, much like I’m going to do right now.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
It's the most wonderful time of the year...
As my regular readers (hi honey!) know, I’ve been a longtime devotee of the annual horror marathons that have been hosted here in Columbus at various venues by Bruce Bartoo, Joe Neff, or both. However, for the past few years, some of the magic has been lost due to the abbreviated schedule imposed on Bruce and Joe by their most recent overlords, the Drexel Theatres group. Running 12-14 hours rather than the traditional 24, the recent ‘thons have been fun, but there’s nothing quote like settling in for a whole day’s worth of horror. For one thing, the timeframe makes it something of a challenge, since it’s easier (at least for me) to prepare myself for the marathon beginning at noon than one starting at 10 PM, especially if it comes at the end of a long day’s activity.
But more importantly, the longer timeframe allows for a more diverse lineup of horror fare. For the past few years, the film lineups have felt somewhat thin, with a handful of area premieres and some classics, but precious few of the sort of curiosities that really make the Marathon special. And not only does a full 24-hour marathon give Bruce and Joe more time for extra-filmic goodies, but it also is much more appealing to the sorts of fan-favorite guests that graced the marathons of yore. Take this year’s guest…
None other than Mr. Stuart Bloody Gordon, ladies and gents. A marathon favorite and former guest at the ’92 marathon- which was before I came to Columbus, alas- Gordon will be coming back again this year to introduce a couple of his films as well as a title of his choosing (more on these later). Sadly, they won’t be playing his kerfawsome 2007 film Stuck, which I saw at its TIFF premiere, but that won’t stop me from asking him a question about it.
As I said before, two Gordon films will be playing here, the first being his cult favorite From Beyond, which I’ve never seen. However, I dig Re-Animator, and supposedly this throws off a Re-Animator vibe as well, so I figure I’ll be down with this too. The second Gordon film at the Marathon will be his Masters of Horror episode The Black Cat, to commemorate the 200th anniversary of Poe’s birth.
In addition to Gordon’s take on the story, Bruce and Joe have also booked a rare 35mm screening of Ulmer’s 1934 adaptation, starring icons Karloff and Lugosi. I can’t help but flash back to Lugosi ranting against Karloff in Ed Wood, which ought to make it extra fun.
Along with the two films he directed, Gordon was also offered a chance to select a film for this year’s marathon, and he chose the 2002 masterpiece Irreversible. Personally, I’m of two minds about this. On the one hand, I think it’s an inspired choice, and one that should jar most of the horror buffs in attendance out of their comfort zone. On the other hand, Angela will be attending again with me this year, and judging by her tastes in movies, I’m pretty sure this won’t be up her alley. She isn’t normally spooked by horror movies unless they deal in real-world kinds of situations, and I’d say this one qualifies. And if the content doesn’t get her, the style almost certainly will. So I’m thinking we may duck out for something to eat when this plays.
Another one we might forego for much the same reason is Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Which is a pretty great movie to be sure, but I don’t necessarily think it needs to be seen on the big screen or anything.
On the other hand, I bet that as a lover of vampire fare, she’ll be all about Daughters of Darkness. And honestly, I’m pretty curious about it myself, not least for the lead performance by Delphine Seyrig. Seyrig has long been a favorite of mine, but I’m familiar with her mostly from her turns in more arthouse-friendly fare such as Jeanne Dielman and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. So it’ll be interesting to see her in a part she can really sink her teeth into (sorry).
Another intriguing inclusion in the lineup is another Poe title, Corman’s Masque of the Red Death starring Vincent Price. I’m woefully underversed in both Corman and Price, so this should be fun. Right?
Along with Gordon and Poe, this year’s Marathon is also paying tribute to the late David Carradine this year, with a screening of his cult favorite Q: The Winged Serpent. Not having seen this before, I wouldn’t dare miss this one.
And under the heading of “curiosities” is this year’s selection Werewolf vs. the Vampire Woman. Should be better than Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus, I’m guessing.
Given the hit-or-miss nature of the horror genre as a whole, Marathon premieres tend to be wildly inconsistent. However, this year’s premiere, I Sell the Dead, sounds pretty kind of okay. Besides, it’s got Ron Perlman, which at least puts it a head on the likes of, say, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
One of the drawbacks of a 24-hour Marathon is that I’ve usually seen more of the titles than I have at the shorter ‘thons. This year’s Marathon is no exception, since along with Henry I’ve seen three of the other titles selected. However, they’re all pretty darn awesome, I think you’ll agree:
Of these, I’m naturally most excited about The Thing, especially the prospect of seeing it with a big Marathon crowd. However, The Host ought to be a blast as well, and I’m curious to see how well Day of the Dead.
So if you’re interested (and local), don’t be afraid- come to the Horror Marathon, which is being held from noon on Saturday, 17 October, through noon-ish the next day at the newly refurbished and under-new-management Grandview Theatre. Tickets are $35 in advance and $40 at the door. More information can be found at the Marathon web site . Hope to see you there.
But more importantly, the longer timeframe allows for a more diverse lineup of horror fare. For the past few years, the film lineups have felt somewhat thin, with a handful of area premieres and some classics, but precious few of the sort of curiosities that really make the Marathon special. And not only does a full 24-hour marathon give Bruce and Joe more time for extra-filmic goodies, but it also is much more appealing to the sorts of fan-favorite guests that graced the marathons of yore. Take this year’s guest…
None other than Mr. Stuart Bloody Gordon, ladies and gents. A marathon favorite and former guest at the ’92 marathon- which was before I came to Columbus, alas- Gordon will be coming back again this year to introduce a couple of his films as well as a title of his choosing (more on these later). Sadly, they won’t be playing his kerfawsome 2007 film Stuck, which I saw at its TIFF premiere, but that won’t stop me from asking him a question about it.
As I said before, two Gordon films will be playing here, the first being his cult favorite From Beyond, which I’ve never seen. However, I dig Re-Animator, and supposedly this throws off a Re-Animator vibe as well, so I figure I’ll be down with this too. The second Gordon film at the Marathon will be his Masters of Horror episode The Black Cat, to commemorate the 200th anniversary of Poe’s birth.
In addition to Gordon’s take on the story, Bruce and Joe have also booked a rare 35mm screening of Ulmer’s 1934 adaptation, starring icons Karloff and Lugosi. I can’t help but flash back to Lugosi ranting against Karloff in Ed Wood, which ought to make it extra fun.
Along with the two films he directed, Gordon was also offered a chance to select a film for this year’s marathon, and he chose the 2002 masterpiece Irreversible. Personally, I’m of two minds about this. On the one hand, I think it’s an inspired choice, and one that should jar most of the horror buffs in attendance out of their comfort zone. On the other hand, Angela will be attending again with me this year, and judging by her tastes in movies, I’m pretty sure this won’t be up her alley. She isn’t normally spooked by horror movies unless they deal in real-world kinds of situations, and I’d say this one qualifies. And if the content doesn’t get her, the style almost certainly will. So I’m thinking we may duck out for something to eat when this plays.
Another one we might forego for much the same reason is Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. Which is a pretty great movie to be sure, but I don’t necessarily think it needs to be seen on the big screen or anything.
On the other hand, I bet that as a lover of vampire fare, she’ll be all about Daughters of Darkness. And honestly, I’m pretty curious about it myself, not least for the lead performance by Delphine Seyrig. Seyrig has long been a favorite of mine, but I’m familiar with her mostly from her turns in more arthouse-friendly fare such as Jeanne Dielman and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. So it’ll be interesting to see her in a part she can really sink her teeth into (sorry).
Another intriguing inclusion in the lineup is another Poe title, Corman’s Masque of the Red Death starring Vincent Price. I’m woefully underversed in both Corman and Price, so this should be fun. Right?
Along with Gordon and Poe, this year’s Marathon is also paying tribute to the late David Carradine this year, with a screening of his cult favorite Q: The Winged Serpent. Not having seen this before, I wouldn’t dare miss this one.
And under the heading of “curiosities” is this year’s selection Werewolf vs. the Vampire Woman. Should be better than Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus, I’m guessing.
Given the hit-or-miss nature of the horror genre as a whole, Marathon premieres tend to be wildly inconsistent. However, this year’s premiere, I Sell the Dead, sounds pretty kind of okay. Besides, it’s got Ron Perlman, which at least puts it a head on the likes of, say, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
One of the drawbacks of a 24-hour Marathon is that I’ve usually seen more of the titles than I have at the shorter ‘thons. This year’s Marathon is no exception, since along with Henry I’ve seen three of the other titles selected. However, they’re all pretty darn awesome, I think you’ll agree:
Of these, I’m naturally most excited about The Thing, especially the prospect of seeing it with a big Marathon crowd. However, The Host ought to be a blast as well, and I’m curious to see how well Day of the Dead.
So if you’re interested (and local), don’t be afraid- come to the Horror Marathon, which is being held from noon on Saturday, 17 October, through noon-ish the next day at the newly refurbished and under-new-management Grandview Theatre. Tickets are $35 in advance and $40 at the door. More information can be found at the Marathon web site . Hope to see you there.
A missive from Hiatusville
Hey there folks. You may have noticed that I haven’t posted anything in the last month or so. Rest assured that I’m doing fine. I’m just really, really busy. I’ll write more about it when I’ve gotten it under control, but for now I’ll just leave it at that.
What’s more, I simply haven’t felt very inspired lately. Normally, I would have posted a Criterion Watch just to have some new content on the blog. However, seeing as how last month’s announcement was a massive box set of Akira Kurosawa movies, I didn’t see much of a point. Being a quality-over-quantity kind of guy, I can’t get too worked up about the notion of spending several hundred dollars on a box of bare-bones editions of Kurosawa movies, most of which Criterion has already done up right. Then again, I sort of felt the same way about the Essential Art House box a few years back, but that didn’t stop others from declaring it, well, “Essential”.
Finally, an update on my progress with the Nobel Project. Or more precisely, the lack thereof. My original goal being to start with the then-most-recent winner and work back in time backfired when I couldn’t make it through the first thirty pages or so of J.M.G. le Clézio’s The Interrogation. Maybe it was a bad translation, but I found the style of it really alienating, full of endless paragraphs and the like. Perhaps I’ll re-evaluate my plan of attack on the Nobel laureates- start with a few that really interest me (Lewis, Coetzee, Garcia Marquez, etc.)- before progressing to the others. I’ll even try le Clézio again when I’m in a better frame of mind. And sometime in the near future, I’ll find time to work in next year’s (co-)winner(s), the staff of the Onion AV Club, and their new Inventory book.
Anyway, look for new content here later today. And thanks for sticking around.
What’s more, I simply haven’t felt very inspired lately. Normally, I would have posted a Criterion Watch just to have some new content on the blog. However, seeing as how last month’s announcement was a massive box set of Akira Kurosawa movies, I didn’t see much of a point. Being a quality-over-quantity kind of guy, I can’t get too worked up about the notion of spending several hundred dollars on a box of bare-bones editions of Kurosawa movies, most of which Criterion has already done up right. Then again, I sort of felt the same way about the Essential Art House box a few years back, but that didn’t stop others from declaring it, well, “Essential”.
Finally, an update on my progress with the Nobel Project. Or more precisely, the lack thereof. My original goal being to start with the then-most-recent winner and work back in time backfired when I couldn’t make it through the first thirty pages or so of J.M.G. le Clézio’s The Interrogation. Maybe it was a bad translation, but I found the style of it really alienating, full of endless paragraphs and the like. Perhaps I’ll re-evaluate my plan of attack on the Nobel laureates- start with a few that really interest me (Lewis, Coetzee, Garcia Marquez, etc.)- before progressing to the others. I’ll even try le Clézio again when I’m in a better frame of mind. And sometime in the near future, I’ll find time to work in next year’s (co-)winner(s), the staff of the Onion AV Club, and their new Inventory book.
Anyway, look for new content here later today. And thanks for sticking around.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Trailer Roundup: TIFF Preview Edition
Today marks the kickoff to this year’s Toronto Film Festival, and once again I won’t be able to go. The simple reason is money, or lack thereof- sadly, it’s looking more and more like my 2007 trip to the fest was a one-time thing, or at least something that won’t be repeated for some years yet. Still, it’s fun to imagine that I’ll be going back again this year- I even took the time to sketch out a purely hypothetical schedule for myself. And even though I won’t be making the trip myself, you can bet that I’ll be following those who do, including such SLH faves as Scott and Noel at the Onion AV Club, Mike D’Angelo, Victor Morton, Girish, and many more. Oh, and some guy named Roger.
For those playing at home, here are a few trailers and videos from some of my most-anticipated films of the fest. In no particular order:
L’Enfer d’Henri-Georges Clouzot (Bromberg/Medrea, Real to Reel)
Antichrist (Von Trier, Masters)
Face (Tsai, Visions)
La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet (Wiseman, Mavericks)
A Serious Man (Coens, Special Presentations
Enter the Void (Noe, Vanguard)
Vincere (Bellocchio, Masters)
The Time That Remains (Suleiman, CWC)
The Informant! (Soderbergh, Special Presentations)
The White Ribbon (Haneke, Masters)
My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done? (Herzog, Special Presentations)
Mother (Bong, Special Presentations)
And of course…
Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (Herzog, Special Presentations)
For those playing at home, here are a few trailers and videos from some of my most-anticipated films of the fest. In no particular order:
L’Enfer d’Henri-Georges Clouzot (Bromberg/Medrea, Real to Reel)
Antichrist (Von Trier, Masters)
Face (Tsai, Visions)
La Danse: The Paris Opera Ballet (Wiseman, Mavericks)
A Serious Man (Coens, Special Presentations
Enter the Void (Noe, Vanguard)
Vincere (Bellocchio, Masters)
The Time That Remains (Suleiman, CWC)
The Informant! (Soderbergh, Special Presentations)
The White Ribbon (Haneke, Masters)
My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done? (Herzog, Special Presentations)
Mother (Bong, Special Presentations)
And of course…
Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans (Herzog, Special Presentations)
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Everything's better with fried plantains on the side.
Ever since I moved in with Angela back in July, there have been some incidental changes that have taken some getting used to on my part. For one thing, while I once lived more or less in the city, Hilliard (my new stomping grounds) is fairly suburban, and naturally this means a lot more driving. Most of my regular destinations (work, school, my movie theatres of choice) tend to be a twenty minute drive or more, which may not sound like much to those of you who are used to New York/L.A. commutes, but is much more than I’m used to. Still, it’s not all bad- how could it be, when I’m with Ang and the offspring full-time now? In addition, Hilliard offers some unique amenities of its own, beginning with one of my favorite restaurants in town, the Starliner Diner.
Situated comfortably atop a hill on Cemetary Road just west of a set of railroad tracks, the Starliner is an unassuming little storefront operation. But once you’re inside, the place reveals its true character. Its walls are covered with murals and trinkets- one wall is devoted almost entirely to retro clocks- but it’s hardly the designer bric-a-brac that lines your local Applebee’s. At Starliner the surroundings are more than background noise- they’re indicative of the off-kilter quirkiness of the joint, and provide easy conversations starters to first-time visitors. This isn’t your father’s greasy spoon, that’s for sure.
But of course the real draw of Starliner is the food. Rather than sticking to the traditional diner fare of middle-of-the-road sandwiches and soups, Starliner delivers a distinctively Latin flair with its menu. So while you can still get a burger’n’fries, there’s plenty to satisfy more adventurous diners. Sandwich-wise, I highly recommend the Cajun Chicken Melt (loaded with bacon and cheese, plus veggies that include a slice of avocado) and the classic Cuban Sandwich. The latter is a dead-pig-lover’s delight, piled high with both flavorful pork and just-salty-enough ham, plus the requisite cheese, yellow mustard and pickles- though if you’re like me, you’ll want extra pickles.
And the goodness doesn’t stop there, since Starliner has a wide array of sides and appetizers. Most meals come with fries or tortilla chips, but I recommend substituting (for a small fee) the addictive fried plantains or the sweet potato fries, which are complemented perfectly by the Starliner’s chipotle Ranch dressing. And if you’re really hungry, start off your meal with an order of the black bean nachos- the order’s big enough to share, and they’re so flavorful that adding meat would be overdoing it. The Starliner also makes tasty burritos, pastas, and entrees, all with their trademark pizzazz.
It wasn’t until more recently, however, that I managed to discover Starliner’s tasty breakfast menu. I’ve quickly become a fan of their Huevos Rancheros, served with either home fries or black beans, although you can ask for half-and-half. Even better are their pancakes, which are- no exaggeration- some of the best I’ve ever tasted. These plate-filling flapjacks are cooked to a pleasing shade of golden brown, and are fluffy without being doughy- no mean feat, that. Starliner’s menu also offers banana pancakes, which I highly recommend- the fruitiness nicely offsets the sweetness of the pancake batter and the table syrup. Sometimes they also offer chocolate chip or blueberries with the pancakes as well, and while the chocolate (which I haven’t tried) seems like it would be overkill, the plump, fresh blueberries make the already tasty ‘cakes even better. Their breakfasts are so comfort-food addictive that it’s probably a good thing that they keep wonky breakfast hours- open at 9 AM, after most of us are at work.
Like any good diner, Starliner offers a good selection of daily specials to complement their menu, and they’re almost always intriguing enough to make me second-guess my meal choice- for example, on my last breakfast visit they offered a fascinating pairing of crab cakes and eggs. But really- you can’t go wrong with anything at Starliner, at least not in my experience. I’ve tried a good number of their dishes, and everything I’ve tried I’d recommend. So if you ever find yourself up in Hilliard, drop in at Starliner. Heck, drop me a line and I’ll be seriously tempted to join you.
Situated comfortably atop a hill on Cemetary Road just west of a set of railroad tracks, the Starliner is an unassuming little storefront operation. But once you’re inside, the place reveals its true character. Its walls are covered with murals and trinkets- one wall is devoted almost entirely to retro clocks- but it’s hardly the designer bric-a-brac that lines your local Applebee’s. At Starliner the surroundings are more than background noise- they’re indicative of the off-kilter quirkiness of the joint, and provide easy conversations starters to first-time visitors. This isn’t your father’s greasy spoon, that’s for sure.
But of course the real draw of Starliner is the food. Rather than sticking to the traditional diner fare of middle-of-the-road sandwiches and soups, Starliner delivers a distinctively Latin flair with its menu. So while you can still get a burger’n’fries, there’s plenty to satisfy more adventurous diners. Sandwich-wise, I highly recommend the Cajun Chicken Melt (loaded with bacon and cheese, plus veggies that include a slice of avocado) and the classic Cuban Sandwich. The latter is a dead-pig-lover’s delight, piled high with both flavorful pork and just-salty-enough ham, plus the requisite cheese, yellow mustard and pickles- though if you’re like me, you’ll want extra pickles.
And the goodness doesn’t stop there, since Starliner has a wide array of sides and appetizers. Most meals come with fries or tortilla chips, but I recommend substituting (for a small fee) the addictive fried plantains or the sweet potato fries, which are complemented perfectly by the Starliner’s chipotle Ranch dressing. And if you’re really hungry, start off your meal with an order of the black bean nachos- the order’s big enough to share, and they’re so flavorful that adding meat would be overdoing it. The Starliner also makes tasty burritos, pastas, and entrees, all with their trademark pizzazz.
It wasn’t until more recently, however, that I managed to discover Starliner’s tasty breakfast menu. I’ve quickly become a fan of their Huevos Rancheros, served with either home fries or black beans, although you can ask for half-and-half. Even better are their pancakes, which are- no exaggeration- some of the best I’ve ever tasted. These plate-filling flapjacks are cooked to a pleasing shade of golden brown, and are fluffy without being doughy- no mean feat, that. Starliner’s menu also offers banana pancakes, which I highly recommend- the fruitiness nicely offsets the sweetness of the pancake batter and the table syrup. Sometimes they also offer chocolate chip or blueberries with the pancakes as well, and while the chocolate (which I haven’t tried) seems like it would be overkill, the plump, fresh blueberries make the already tasty ‘cakes even better. Their breakfasts are so comfort-food addictive that it’s probably a good thing that they keep wonky breakfast hours- open at 9 AM, after most of us are at work.
Like any good diner, Starliner offers a good selection of daily specials to complement their menu, and they’re almost always intriguing enough to make me second-guess my meal choice- for example, on my last breakfast visit they offered a fascinating pairing of crab cakes and eggs. But really- you can’t go wrong with anything at Starliner, at least not in my experience. I’ve tried a good number of their dishes, and everything I’ve tried I’d recommend. So if you ever find yourself up in Hilliard, drop in at Starliner. Heck, drop me a line and I’ll be seriously tempted to join you.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Famous Last Words: Resurrection- the Winner!
Like many genre cycles, Japanese horror (or "J-horror") has had more than its share of junk. But it's also produced its share of memorable chillers, and one of the highlights has surely been Kiyoshi Kurosawa's Pulse, the source of last week's quote. A clever fusion of a high-tech thriller and a ghost story, Pulse also contains a heavy dose of melancholy that makes it good for more than a few scares. But Kurosawa does have some first-class scares up his sleeve, especially in the surreal and wholly unexpected "walking woman" scene, which is impossible to describe to those who've never seen the film, and unforgettable to those who have. Congrats to those who got the quote.
And most hearty congratulations also go out to the winner of this first post-Screengrab round of Famous Last Words, regular participant and veteran winner Cameron Worden. There were a number of strong contenders for the win this round, but Worden bested them all. As promised, Cameron will receive a $25 gift card from The Criterion Store. Thanks to everyone for playing.
As usual, I'm going to be taking some time off from Famous Last Words, but I hope you all will stick around. And I hope to start a new round up in the future, perhaps sometime after the new year. See you around, folks.
And most hearty congratulations also go out to the winner of this first post-Screengrab round of Famous Last Words, regular participant and veteran winner Cameron Worden. There were a number of strong contenders for the win this round, but Worden bested them all. As promised, Cameron will receive a $25 gift card from The Criterion Store. Thanks to everyone for playing.
As usual, I'm going to be taking some time off from Famous Last Words, but I hope you all will stick around. And I hope to start a new round up in the future, perhaps sometime after the new year. See you around, folks.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Trailer Review-type Thing: Inception
As most of you probably remember, I used to run what were called Trailer Reviews over at Screengrab three days a week. It wasn't a great column, but it helped to pay the bills, even if it meant having to crank out 200 words about the likes of Beverly Hills Chihuahua. I don't plan on making it a regular thing, but if I see something I like I'll post it here.
Through some conveniently Hollywood-ish bit of happenstance, the directors of the two highest-grossing films (domestic, not adjusted for inflation) in history dropped trailers for their latest projects this past week. But while Avatar's new spot premiered with great fanfare, Warner dropped a teaser for Inception, the upcoming film by Christopher Nolan, with very little notice. So while the hype for Avatar has resulted in widespread disappointment among moviegoers, the element of surprise is working in Inception's favor. It doesn't hurt that it looks pretty damn cool, at least in the small snippets we see here. The only reservation I have is about the title itself- Inception doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, nor does it really register in the memory. Hell, I forgot it several times when referring to it in conversation the other day. Still, I'm a big fan of Nolan- especially when it comes to The Prestige- so I'm totally down with anything he wants to do.
Through some conveniently Hollywood-ish bit of happenstance, the directors of the two highest-grossing films (domestic, not adjusted for inflation) in history dropped trailers for their latest projects this past week. But while Avatar's new spot premiered with great fanfare, Warner dropped a teaser for Inception, the upcoming film by Christopher Nolan, with very little notice. So while the hype for Avatar has resulted in widespread disappointment among moviegoers, the element of surprise is working in Inception's favor. It doesn't hurt that it looks pretty damn cool, at least in the small snippets we see here. The only reservation I have is about the title itself- Inception doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, nor does it really register in the memory. Hell, I forgot it several times when referring to it in conversation the other day. Still, I'm a big fan of Nolan- especially when it comes to The Prestige- so I'm totally down with anything he wants to do.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Famous Last Words: Resurrection- Week 12
It’s become something of a cliché for a movie to show up at Sundance trumpeting its tiny budget. But while most movies along these lines play like Hollywood audition tapes, a few have showed genuine cinematic vision, none more so than Shane Carruth’s Primer, the source of last week’s quote. Primer was shot for a scant $7,000 (with most of the budget going to pay for 16mm film stock), but like Blair Witch before it, it uses the lo-fi aesthetic imposed by its budget to its advantage, with Carruth setting his film primarily in everyday settings like basements, garages, and storage spaces. More importantly, however, is the fact that Primer is filled to the brim with honest-to-goodness ideas, which are free provided one knows how to use them, and Carruth definitely does. Carruth, a former engineer and self-taught filmmaker, has yet to make another film, but even if he never does, Primer will assure his reputation in the minds of lovers of brainy sci-fi. Congrats to those who guessed it.
With one more week left in the round, I leave you with one final quote:
“Now, alone with my best friend in the world, I have found happiness.”
Name the film. Remember, submit your guesses to this e-Mail address no later than 11:59 PM Eastern on Wednesday. Good luck, and come back next week when I hope to announce a winner.
With one more week left in the round, I leave you with one final quote:
“Now, alone with my best friend in the world, I have found happiness.”
Name the film. Remember, submit your guesses to this e-Mail address no later than 11:59 PM Eastern on Wednesday. Good luck, and come back next week when I hope to announce a winner.
Monday, August 17, 2009
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
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
Criterion Watch, November 2009
Let’s get this party started, shall we? Remember, click on the titles to link to the Criterion site. 
This set, entitled The Golden Age of Television, is the big Criterion news for November, at least to these eyes. It’s a somewhat unconventional choice for the Criterion folks, but then, so was the Beastie Boys set, and this is a pretty darn inspired selection. To sum it, it’ll not only include kinescopes of eight live teleplays from the 1950s- including such classics as Marty, Requiem For a Heavyweight, and The Days of Wine and Roses- but also cast and crew interviews from the eighties-era PBS series that re-broadcast the plays. Add in commentary tracks by several of the directors (such as John Frankenheimer) and this should be a must-buy for lovers of pop culture ephemera such as myself.
I’m no fan of conventional sports dramas, but unconventional ones- in which athletes are treated with real complexity instead of ESPN-ready hero worship- are usually pretty intriguing. So I’m looking forward to finally catching up with Michael Ritchie’s Downhill Racer, about a skier whose all-consuming drive to win overwhelms everything else in his life.
Finally, a twofer of acclaimed recent foreign-language releases, given the Criterion treatment. Arnaud Desplechin’s A Christmas Tale- for which no cover art has yet been posted- was one of my favorite films from last year, and it’s nice to see the great Desplechin included in the ranks of such Criterion-endorsed filmmakers as, uh, Kevin Smith and Michael Bay. And Bergman, Bresson, and Ozu, of course. I wasn’t especially keen on Gomorrah- I respected it but was hardly blown away- but I can see where it would be up Criterion’s alley, and will get even more attention with its release on Blu-Ray as well as standard-def DVD.
Moreover, 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. That would of course be good news, since such acclaimed titles as 4 months 3 weeks and 2 days, The Secret of the Grain, A Girl Cut in Two, Flight of the Red Balloon, Private Fears in Public Places, Hunger, and (ohpleasepleaseplease) The Duchess of Langeais could really benefit from the Criterion treatment.
Finally, this month’s clue:
Had to think about this one a while, not least because it hints not at a specific title but at a person. Eventually, I realized that this was hinting at a special centenary celebration for Akira Kurosawa next year. But what exactly are they going to do? I’m guessing a few of their already-released titles will get some Blu-Ray love (I’m guessing The Seven Samurai at the very least), but don’t rule out some new Kurosawa DVDs as well. With so much of his filmography already represented in the Collection, my money is on his 1974 classic Dersu Uzala, made during his sojourn in the Soviet Union, which is one of the master’s best color films and one of the most moving works he ever made. But who knows? All I know for sure is that Criterion is bound to have some surprises up their sleeve.
This set, entitled The Golden Age of Television, is the big Criterion news for November, at least to these eyes. It’s a somewhat unconventional choice for the Criterion folks, but then, so was the Beastie Boys set, and this is a pretty darn inspired selection. To sum it, it’ll not only include kinescopes of eight live teleplays from the 1950s- including such classics as Marty, Requiem For a Heavyweight, and The Days of Wine and Roses- but also cast and crew interviews from the eighties-era PBS series that re-broadcast the plays. Add in commentary tracks by several of the directors (such as John Frankenheimer) and this should be a must-buy for lovers of pop culture ephemera such as myself.
I’m no fan of conventional sports dramas, but unconventional ones- in which athletes are treated with real complexity instead of ESPN-ready hero worship- are usually pretty intriguing. So I’m looking forward to finally catching up with Michael Ritchie’s Downhill Racer, about a skier whose all-consuming drive to win overwhelms everything else in his life.
Finally, a twofer of acclaimed recent foreign-language releases, given the Criterion treatment. Arnaud Desplechin’s A Christmas Tale- for which no cover art has yet been posted- was one of my favorite films from last year, and it’s nice to see the great Desplechin included in the ranks of such Criterion-endorsed filmmakers as, uh, Kevin Smith and Michael Bay. And Bergman, Bresson, and Ozu, of course. I wasn’t especially keen on Gomorrah- I respected it but was hardly blown away- but I can see where it would be up Criterion’s alley, and will get even more attention with its release on Blu-Ray as well as standard-def DVD.
Moreover, 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. That would of course be good news, since such acclaimed titles as 4 months 3 weeks and 2 days, The Secret of the Grain, A Girl Cut in Two, Flight of the Red Balloon, Private Fears in Public Places, Hunger, and (ohpleasepleaseplease) The Duchess of Langeais could really benefit from the Criterion treatment.
Finally, this month’s clue:
Had to think about this one a while, not least because it hints not at a specific title but at a person. Eventually, I realized that this was hinting at a special centenary celebration for Akira Kurosawa next year. But what exactly are they going to do? I’m guessing a few of their already-released titles will get some Blu-Ray love (I’m guessing The Seven Samurai at the very least), but don’t rule out some new Kurosawa DVDs as well. With so much of his filmography already represented in the Collection, my money is on his 1974 classic Dersu Uzala, made during his sojourn in the Soviet Union, which is one of the master’s best color films and one of the most moving works he ever made. But who knows? All I know for sure is that Criterion is bound to have some surprises up their sleeve.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Famous Last Words: Resurrection- Week 11
Nowadays, it seems like Broadway impresarios have embraced wholeheartedly the notion of turning hit movies into theatrical productions, having adapted everything from Beauty and the Beast and The Producers to High Fidelity and Hairspray for the stage. But before this had become such a common practice, the great Stephen Sondheim penned A Little Night Music, which was inspired by Ingmar Bergman’s 1955 film Smiles of a Summer Night, the source of last week’s quote. But Smiles is no Broadway trivia question, as any cinephile worth his salt can attest. Rather, it’s the master’s first full-on masterpiece, a film that helped to cement his reputation as a cinematic titan. More than half a century later, it’s still great- lighter in tone than most of Bergman’s work, but still plenty substantial, and boasting a cast that includes Bergman favorites Gunnar Björnstrand, Eva Dahlbeck, and Harriet Andersson, who delivers the film’s final line. Congrats to those who got it.
Here’s this week’s quote:
“And if you look, you will not find me.”
Name the film. Remember, submit your guesses to this e-Mail address no later than 11:59 PM Eastern on Wednesday. Good luck!
Here’s this week’s quote:
“And if you look, you will not find me.”
Name the film. Remember, submit your guesses to this e-Mail address no later than 11:59 PM Eastern on Wednesday. Good luck!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Because it seems that I just can't accomplish anything without it involving ticking items off a long list...
Ever since I moved at the end of June, I haven’t felt much of a desire to keep this blog updated, aside from the weekly Famous Last Words quote and a few other fluke posts. Honestly, I think most of this can be traced back to my days at Screengrab, when I had to grind out 7 to 10 posts a week so that the money kept coming in. Now that I’m no longer doing that kind of mercenary work, I find that my hunger to keep writing has waned quite a bit. And now that living with Angela and the Offspring has required me to become much more domesticated than ever before, I don’t necessarily have the energy to spend my precious free time trying to keep up my writing. As a result, the promised reviews of Criterion DVDs and Reviews By Request columns will have to go on the back burner.
However, there’s hope. In the past, I’ve found that I can rejuvenate my own writing mojo by immersing myself in the writings of others. Of course, being the type of person I am I can’t just make a promise to myself to read more, since my free time is at a premium and if I don’t set myself a tangible goal I’ll most likely spend all of that precious free time watching movies instead of spending some of it on books. But what to read?
Some months ago, I was looking at a list of Nobel Laureates in Literature, and I noticed how few of them I had actually read. As a humanities major and fairly well-rounded guy, I consider myself to be sort of knowledgeable when it comes to literature and such, but I’ve never heard of the majority of the Nobel winners, and I’ve read even fewer (19, to be precise). Here’s the full list of winners, with the ones I’ve read in boldface:
2008 – J.M.G. Le Clézio
2007 – Doris Lessing
2006 – Orhan Pamuk
2005 – Harold Pinter
2004 – Elfriede Jelinek
2003 – J.M. Coetzee
2002 – Imre Kertész
2001 – V.S. Naipaul
2000 – Gao Xingjian
1999 – Günter Grass
1998 – José Saramago
1997 – Dario Fo
1996 – Wisława Szymborska
1995 – Seamus Heaney
1994 – Kenzaburo Oe
1993 – Toni Morrison
1992 – Derek Walcott
1991 – Nadine Gordimer
1990 – Octavio Paz
1989 – Camilo José Cela
1988 – Naguib Mahfouz
1987 – Joseph Brodsky
1986 – Wole Soyinka
1985 – Claude Simon
1984 – Jaroslav Siefert
1983 – William Golding
1982 – Gabriel Garcia Márquez
1981 – Elias Canetti
1980 – Czesław Miłosz
1979 – Odysseas Elytis
1978 – Isaac Bashevis Singer
1977 – Vicente Aleixandre
1976 – Saul Bellow
1975 – Eugenio Montale
1974 – Eyvind Johnson
1974 – Harry Martinson
1973 – Patrick White
1972 – Heinrich Böll
1971 – Pablo Neruda
1970 – Alekdandr Solzhenitsyn
1969 – Samuel Beckett
1968 – Yasumari Kawabata
1967 – Miguel Ángel Asturias
1966 – Shmuel Yosef Agnon
1966 – Nelly Sachs
1965 – Mikhail Sholokhov
1964 – Jean-Paul Sartre
1963 – Giorgos Seferis
1962 – John Steinbeck
1961 – Ivo Andrić
1960 – Saint-John Perse
1959 – Salvatore Quasimodo
1958 – Boris Pasternak
1957 – Albert Camus
1956 – John Ramón Jiménez
1955 – Halldór Laxness
1954 – Ernest Hemingway
1953 – Winston Churchill
1952 – François Mauriac
1951 – Pär Lagerkvist
1950 – Bertrand Russell
1949 – William Faulkner
1948 – T.S. Eliot
1947 – André Gide
1946 – Hermann Hesse
1945 – Gabriela Mistral
1944 – Johannes V. Jensen
1940-1943 – Not awarded
1939 – Frans Eemil Sillanpää
1938 – Pearl S. Buck
1937 – Roger Martin du Gard
1936 – Eugene O’Neill
1935 – Not awarded
1934 – Luigi Pirandello
1933 – Ivan Bunin
1932 – John Galsworthy
1931 – Erik Alex Karlfeldt
1930 – Sinclair Lewis
1929 – Thomas Mann
1928 – Sigrid Undset
1927 – Henri Bergson
1926 – Grazia Deledda
1925 – George Bernard Shaw
1924 – Wladyslaw Reymont
1923 – William Butler Yeats
1922 – Jacinto Benavente
1921 – Anatole France
1920 – Knut Hamsun
1919 – Carl Spitteler
1918 – Not awarded
1917 – Karl Adolph Gjellerup
1917 – Henrik Pontoppidan
1916 – Verner von Heidenstam
1915 – Romain Rolland
1914 – Not awarded
1913 – Rabindranath Tagore
1912 – Gerhart Hauptmann
1911 – Maurice Maeterlinck
1910 – Paul Heyse
1909 – Selma Lagerlöf
1908 – Rudolf Christoph Eucken
1907 – Rudyard Kipling
1906 – Giosuè Carducci
1905 – Henryk Sienkiewicz
1904 – José Echegaray
1904 – Frédéric Mistral
1903 – Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
1902 – Theodor Mommsen
1901 – Sully Prudhomme
Now, I realize that there are a few all-time greats that I’ve somehow missed over the years- my excuse for never having read Pinter and Pirandello is that given the choice I’d rather see dramatic works performed rather than read them, but I don’t really have an excuse for missing out on Garcia Marquez and Lewis. However, when it comes to the majority of the winners, I’m hardly alone in thinking them fairly obscure (even the far-better-read-than-I Victor Morton believes this to be the case). So being the unreformed list junkie that I am, I settled upon the idea of reading a work by every Nobel Laureate in Literature, and write at least a little something about each one.
One thing that drew me to this idea was the same driving force that was behind my old Yesterday’s Hits columns- the idea of the Nobel as a snapshot of the time in which it was given. For example, in its early years, the impetus behind the literature Nobel wasn’t merely excellence in writing but pushing the literary art “in an ideal direction,” which allegedly swayed the voters away from recognizing the era’s more pessimistic writers. Likewise, recent years have seen an upswing in winners from Third World nations, along with non-white and female Laureates.
And all the while, the Swedish Academy has maintained (and even admitted to) a bias against American literature, to the point where such greats as Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, Kurt Vonnegut, Flannery O’Connor, and Tom Wolfe- to say nothing of genre masters like Raymond Chandler- have been snubbed. I suppose that what I’m really curious about is whether winners like Sully Prudhomme, Dario Fo, and Winston Churchill (yes, really) are legitimately great writers whose work hasn’t been widely embraced by the literary establishment at large. Because if you’re going to give out the world’s most prestigious literary honor and not recognize such canonically awesome figures as Joyce, Proust, Nabokov, Ibsen, and Wodehouse, I want to know why.
Of course, an undertaking like this comes with a few conditions:
1. I plan to read at least one work by each writer, if possible in the medium in which he is most celebrated. For example, if writer X is primarily known as a playwright, I’ll read one of his plays. In doing so, I think I’ll be able to find a work that represents him well enough to get a taste of his overall importance. At least, that’s my hope.
2. If the writer is best known for poetry, I’ll read a substantial number of poems, especially if they’re short. I’d say fifty pages’ worth at least.
3. If I’ve already read something by a writer, I will choose a work that I haven’t read.
4. Don’t be surprised if I choose works that were later adapted into movies, especially if they’re movies I really like. For example, my choice of a Sinclair Lewis book will almost certainly be Dodsworth, not least because I think Dodsworth is one of the greatest movies ever made and that every lover of film owes it to himself to watch it. But more to the point, I think that having seen the film, I’ll be able to get past the plot of the book so that I can better appreciate the style of writing and the way that Lewis unfolds the tale.
5. If some of these works just don’t do it for me, I’m giving myself the option of checking out after 100 pages. I figure that’s ample opportunity for an author to show me if he or she has “got it.” I don’t plan on doing this very often, but let’s face it- when you’re dealing with more than a hundred works of literature, odds are good that at least a handful of them will be fairly tedious or just, you know, not my thing.
Right now, the plan is to start with the most recent winner and progress in reverse chronological order. The reason for this is primarily logistical, since although the local library systems carry almost all of the recent winners, the selection of early winners is much sparser, so I’ll take the time I’ve got to make arrangements to get my hands on their works.
The project will commence officially within the next week, when I pick up the copy of le Clézio’s The Interrogation I put on reserve. I’m considering starting up a new blog just for the purpose of this project, and I’ll link to it should that come to pass. I can’t say how long this project will take- I imagine that at least one more laureate will be recognized before it’s all said and done- but I hope to keep it up as long as it takes. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way I’ll discover some more great writers whose work I’ll pursue further in the future.
Any suggestions you might have for the project would be appreciated, of course. If you’ve read some of the authors I haven’t, which works would you recommend? And how would I go about finding the more obscure winners? As usual, the comments section is open for you to provide input, or even to wish me luck. And who knows? My wacky adventures in lit-blogging could very well result in a Nora Ephron movie about the magic of reading, possibly starring Daniel Day-Lewis as Alfred Nobel, Seth Rogen as me, and perhaps even a cameo by John Mahoney as William Faulkner. Stay tuned for more details...
However, there’s hope. In the past, I’ve found that I can rejuvenate my own writing mojo by immersing myself in the writings of others. Of course, being the type of person I am I can’t just make a promise to myself to read more, since my free time is at a premium and if I don’t set myself a tangible goal I’ll most likely spend all of that precious free time watching movies instead of spending some of it on books. But what to read?
Some months ago, I was looking at a list of Nobel Laureates in Literature, and I noticed how few of them I had actually read. As a humanities major and fairly well-rounded guy, I consider myself to be sort of knowledgeable when it comes to literature and such, but I’ve never heard of the majority of the Nobel winners, and I’ve read even fewer (19, to be precise). Here’s the full list of winners, with the ones I’ve read in boldface:
2008 – J.M.G. Le Clézio
2007 – Doris Lessing
2006 – Orhan Pamuk
2005 – Harold Pinter
2004 – Elfriede Jelinek
2003 – J.M. Coetzee
2002 – Imre Kertész
2001 – V.S. Naipaul
2000 – Gao Xingjian
1999 – Günter Grass
1998 – José Saramago
1997 – Dario Fo
1996 – Wisława Szymborska
1995 – Seamus Heaney
1994 – Kenzaburo Oe
1993 – Toni Morrison
1992 – Derek Walcott
1991 – Nadine Gordimer
1990 – Octavio Paz
1989 – Camilo José Cela
1988 – Naguib Mahfouz
1987 – Joseph Brodsky
1986 – Wole Soyinka
1985 – Claude Simon
1984 – Jaroslav Siefert
1983 – William Golding
1982 – Gabriel Garcia Márquez
1981 – Elias Canetti
1980 – Czesław Miłosz
1979 – Odysseas Elytis
1978 – Isaac Bashevis Singer
1977 – Vicente Aleixandre
1976 – Saul Bellow
1975 – Eugenio Montale
1974 – Eyvind Johnson
1974 – Harry Martinson
1973 – Patrick White
1972 – Heinrich Böll
1971 – Pablo Neruda
1970 – Alekdandr Solzhenitsyn
1969 – Samuel Beckett
1968 – Yasumari Kawabata
1967 – Miguel Ángel Asturias
1966 – Shmuel Yosef Agnon
1966 – Nelly Sachs
1965 – Mikhail Sholokhov
1964 – Jean-Paul Sartre
1963 – Giorgos Seferis
1962 – John Steinbeck
1961 – Ivo Andrić
1960 – Saint-John Perse
1959 – Salvatore Quasimodo
1958 – Boris Pasternak
1957 – Albert Camus
1956 – John Ramón Jiménez
1955 – Halldór Laxness
1954 – Ernest Hemingway
1953 – Winston Churchill
1952 – François Mauriac
1951 – Pär Lagerkvist
1950 – Bertrand Russell
1949 – William Faulkner
1948 – T.S. Eliot
1947 – André Gide
1946 – Hermann Hesse
1945 – Gabriela Mistral
1944 – Johannes V. Jensen
1940-1943 – Not awarded
1939 – Frans Eemil Sillanpää
1938 – Pearl S. Buck
1937 – Roger Martin du Gard
1936 – Eugene O’Neill
1935 – Not awarded
1934 – Luigi Pirandello
1933 – Ivan Bunin
1932 – John Galsworthy
1931 – Erik Alex Karlfeldt
1930 – Sinclair Lewis
1929 – Thomas Mann
1928 – Sigrid Undset
1927 – Henri Bergson
1926 – Grazia Deledda
1925 – George Bernard Shaw
1924 – Wladyslaw Reymont
1923 – William Butler Yeats
1922 – Jacinto Benavente
1921 – Anatole France
1920 – Knut Hamsun
1919 – Carl Spitteler
1918 – Not awarded
1917 – Karl Adolph Gjellerup
1917 – Henrik Pontoppidan
1916 – Verner von Heidenstam
1915 – Romain Rolland
1914 – Not awarded
1913 – Rabindranath Tagore
1912 – Gerhart Hauptmann
1911 – Maurice Maeterlinck
1910 – Paul Heyse
1909 – Selma Lagerlöf
1908 – Rudolf Christoph Eucken
1907 – Rudyard Kipling
1906 – Giosuè Carducci
1905 – Henryk Sienkiewicz
1904 – José Echegaray
1904 – Frédéric Mistral
1903 – Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
1902 – Theodor Mommsen
1901 – Sully Prudhomme
Now, I realize that there are a few all-time greats that I’ve somehow missed over the years- my excuse for never having read Pinter and Pirandello is that given the choice I’d rather see dramatic works performed rather than read them, but I don’t really have an excuse for missing out on Garcia Marquez and Lewis. However, when it comes to the majority of the winners, I’m hardly alone in thinking them fairly obscure (even the far-better-read-than-I Victor Morton believes this to be the case). So being the unreformed list junkie that I am, I settled upon the idea of reading a work by every Nobel Laureate in Literature, and write at least a little something about each one.
One thing that drew me to this idea was the same driving force that was behind my old Yesterday’s Hits columns- the idea of the Nobel as a snapshot of the time in which it was given. For example, in its early years, the impetus behind the literature Nobel wasn’t merely excellence in writing but pushing the literary art “in an ideal direction,” which allegedly swayed the voters away from recognizing the era’s more pessimistic writers. Likewise, recent years have seen an upswing in winners from Third World nations, along with non-white and female Laureates.
And all the while, the Swedish Academy has maintained (and even admitted to) a bias against American literature, to the point where such greats as Tennessee Williams, Arthur Miller, Kurt Vonnegut, Flannery O’Connor, and Tom Wolfe- to say nothing of genre masters like Raymond Chandler- have been snubbed. I suppose that what I’m really curious about is whether winners like Sully Prudhomme, Dario Fo, and Winston Churchill (yes, really) are legitimately great writers whose work hasn’t been widely embraced by the literary establishment at large. Because if you’re going to give out the world’s most prestigious literary honor and not recognize such canonically awesome figures as Joyce, Proust, Nabokov, Ibsen, and Wodehouse, I want to know why.
Of course, an undertaking like this comes with a few conditions:
1. I plan to read at least one work by each writer, if possible in the medium in which he is most celebrated. For example, if writer X is primarily known as a playwright, I’ll read one of his plays. In doing so, I think I’ll be able to find a work that represents him well enough to get a taste of his overall importance. At least, that’s my hope.
2. If the writer is best known for poetry, I’ll read a substantial number of poems, especially if they’re short. I’d say fifty pages’ worth at least.
3. If I’ve already read something by a writer, I will choose a work that I haven’t read.
4. Don’t be surprised if I choose works that were later adapted into movies, especially if they’re movies I really like. For example, my choice of a Sinclair Lewis book will almost certainly be Dodsworth, not least because I think Dodsworth is one of the greatest movies ever made and that every lover of film owes it to himself to watch it. But more to the point, I think that having seen the film, I’ll be able to get past the plot of the book so that I can better appreciate the style of writing and the way that Lewis unfolds the tale.
5. If some of these works just don’t do it for me, I’m giving myself the option of checking out after 100 pages. I figure that’s ample opportunity for an author to show me if he or she has “got it.” I don’t plan on doing this very often, but let’s face it- when you’re dealing with more than a hundred works of literature, odds are good that at least a handful of them will be fairly tedious or just, you know, not my thing.
Right now, the plan is to start with the most recent winner and progress in reverse chronological order. The reason for this is primarily logistical, since although the local library systems carry almost all of the recent winners, the selection of early winners is much sparser, so I’ll take the time I’ve got to make arrangements to get my hands on their works.
The project will commence officially within the next week, when I pick up the copy of le Clézio’s The Interrogation I put on reserve. I’m considering starting up a new blog just for the purpose of this project, and I’ll link to it should that come to pass. I can’t say how long this project will take- I imagine that at least one more laureate will be recognized before it’s all said and done- but I hope to keep it up as long as it takes. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way I’ll discover some more great writers whose work I’ll pursue further in the future.
Any suggestions you might have for the project would be appreciated, of course. If you’ve read some of the authors I haven’t, which works would you recommend? And how would I go about finding the more obscure winners? As usual, the comments section is open for you to provide input, or even to wish me luck. And who knows? My wacky adventures in lit-blogging could very well result in a Nora Ephron movie about the magic of reading, possibly starring Daniel Day-Lewis as Alfred Nobel, Seth Rogen as me, and perhaps even a cameo by John Mahoney as William Faulkner. Stay tuned for more details...
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Famous Last Words: Resurrection- Week 10
When I was in college, I was on a long and boring bus ride with the Ohio State University Men’s Glee Club when one of the members suggested we watch a movie he’d brought along for the trip- Brian G. Hutton’s Where Eagles Dare, the source of last week’s quiz. Since we didn’t have anything better to do, he slid the tape into the VCR (which ought to date this story right there) and despite their general preference for the likes of Tommy Boy, it wasn’t long before the entire group was absorbed by this 1968 World War II thriller. And for good reason- Where Eagles Dare is deliberately paced, but it’s also damned exciting, with a strangely perfect pair of mismatched leading men in Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. Hutton went on to direct Eastwood again in Kelly’s Heroes before his career began to wane, and reportedly he retired from filmmaking in the mid-1980s to work as a plumber. But no matter- Where Eagles Dare is a keeper. Congrats to those who guessed it.
This week, another change of pace. See if you can guess this one:
“For the sad and dejected, for the sleepless and lost souls, for the frightened and the lonely…”
“But the clowns will have a cup of coffee in the kitchen.”
Name the film. As always, submit your guesses to this e-Mail address. Remember, all submissions must be received no later than 11:59 PM Eastern on Wednesday. Good luck!
This week, another change of pace. See if you can guess this one:
“For the sad and dejected, for the sleepless and lost souls, for the frightened and the lonely…”
“But the clowns will have a cup of coffee in the kitchen.”
Name the film. As always, submit your guesses to this e-Mail address. Remember, all submissions must be received no later than 11:59 PM Eastern on Wednesday. Good luck!
Monday, August 03, 2009
Not that Funny.
Judd Apatow has worked in comedy since he was a teenager, and his knowledge of the business comes through in the details of his latest film, Funny People. The movie is full of small touches that are completely convincing, and were no doubt inspired by the experiences of Apatow and his cast of comic ringers. For example, look at the scene in which Seth Rogen, playing a struggling stand-up who gets hired as a writer by superstar Adam Sandler, is pitching his new jokes to the boss- instead of laughing at the material, Sandler simply nods and says, “yeah, that’s funny,” thinking less about his personal thoughts on the joke than about how he can get a laugh out of it. Funny People is best in moments like these, and the movie is full of them- like the beatific smugness of a young comic who has landed the lead in a crap sitcom, or an up-and-comer who posts videos of himself frolicking with cute kittens to generate traffic for his blog.
Unfortunately, the movie as a whole doesn’t live up to these details.
Click here for the full review.
Unfortunately, the movie as a whole doesn’t live up to these details.
Click here for the full review.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Famous Last Words: Resurrection- Week 9
Among the giants of Japanese cinema, Kenji Mizoguchi may not have the mainstream Western popularity of Akira Kurosawa or the instantly-recognizable style of Yasujiro Ozu, but his body of work is certainly worthy to stand alongside theirs. With such classics to his name as Ugetsu and The Life of Oharu, Mizoguchi was a master filmmaker in his own right, but of the Mizoguchi films I’ve seen, none can compare to his 1954 masterpiece Sansho the Bailiff, the source of last week’s quiz. A meditation on the difficulty of doing good in a cruel world, Sansho is undeniably a downer, but it’s also a riveting piece of work, with plenty of gorgeous camera moves and black-and-white cinematography. Congrats to those who guessed it.
Sansho, of course, is just one of the many great Criterion Collection DVDs one could buy with the $25 Criterion Store gift card that’s the prize for winning this round. With four weeks left in competition, it’s still anyone’s game. Let’s see who can guess this one:
“Do me a favor, will you? Next time you have one of these things, keep it an all-British operation.”
“I’ll try, lieutenant.”
As always, e-Mail your guesses to this address. Remember, all submissions must be received no later than 11:59 PM Wednesday. Good luck!
Sansho, of course, is just one of the many great Criterion Collection DVDs one could buy with the $25 Criterion Store gift card that’s the prize for winning this round. With four weeks left in competition, it’s still anyone’s game. Let’s see who can guess this one:
“Do me a favor, will you? Next time you have one of these things, keep it an all-British operation.”
“I’ll try, lieutenant.”
As always, e-Mail your guesses to this address. Remember, all submissions must be received no later than 11:59 PM Wednesday. Good luck!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Criterion Watch, October 2009
As you may be able to tell, I’m kind of on a hiatus right now, since I’m pretty busy with school and work, to say nothing of my ongoing attempts to settle in after the move and enjoy the summer with Angela and the Offspring whenever I have the chance. So something, as they say, has gotta give. Anyway, in the interest of adding some content here so you all don’t stop reading, here’s the (somewhat belated) Criterion Watch.
We begin with Mira Nair’s Monsoon Wedding, for which there is no package design as yet. Didn’t expect for Criterion to pick this one up, but it’s not a bad addition to the collection, and its vibrant colors should look great in both standard DVD and Blu-Ray. One thing that makes this especially intriguing is that it was an old USA Films release before the company got absorbed into Focus. I’m hoping that this is a sign that Criterion will be handling the old USA library, which could mean such awesome titles as The Man Who Wasn’t There, Gosford Park, Rosetta, Being John Malkovich, and (ohpleasepleaseplease) Topsy-Turvy are on the way.
We begin with Mira Nair’s Monsoon Wedding, for which there is no package design as yet. Didn’t expect for Criterion to pick this one up, but it’s not a bad addition to the collection, and its vibrant colors should look great in both standard DVD and Blu-Ray. One thing that makes this especially intriguing is that it was an old USA Films release before the company got absorbed into Focus. I’m hoping that this is a sign that Criterion will be handling the old USA library, which could mean such awesome titles as The Man Who Wasn’t There, Gosford Park, Rosetta, Being John Malkovich, and (ohpleasepleaseplease) Topsy-Turvy are on the way.
Based on the clue a few months back, I knew this was coming, but it’s still awesome news. The new transfer of this ought to be gorgeous, especially on the also-upcoming Blu-Ray. Plus there’s a commentary featuring Wenders and Peter Falk which guarantees to be cool because, I mean, come on.
Somewhat less fun than Monsoon Wedding and less ethereal than Wings of Desire is Costa-Gavras’ classic political thriller, but it's still pretty great. With Criterion’s release of his film Missing earlier this year, the release of this was a somewhat foregone conclusion, but it’s a perfectly respectable and worthy addition to the Collection. I haven’t seen this one in years, so this new DVD should give me the perfect excuse to catch it again.
Here’s another one I’m overdue to watch a second time, since I was a freshman in high school when it first came out on DVD, and as such not a particularly captive audience for the style of Merchant Ivory. This was the choice of Criterion Newsletter subscribers for the next Blu-Ray release, and at this time the company is only announcing an upcoming release in the new format, so the rest of us will have to make do with the old Home Vision disc. Oh well.
With this set, Eclipse welcomes the inimitable Makavejev to the family, with the release of three of his sixties films to complement their already-released Makavejev titles Sweet Movie and WR: Mysteries of the Orga(ni)sm. I’ve only seen one of the three films in the box, and that one- Love Affair, or the Case of the Missing Switchboard Operator, was on a jumpy VHS tape with white-on-white subtitles. So this one should be both fun and educational for me. Besides, Makavejev’s films usually have plenty of nudity, which never hurts.
Finally, this is probably a John Ford movie, but which one? The "we" makes me think of Stagecoach, since it requires multiple horses to pull the stage and all. But it could be one of many Ford Westerns. Unless of course it's something totally unexpected, like for example Zanussi's great The Year of the Quiet Sun, which concludes in the locale Ford immortalized. Any ideas?
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Famous Last Words: Resurrection- Week 8
When I saw Woody Allen’s latest film Whatever Works earlier this month, I marveled at the fact that it was his 40th feature to date- and that he hasn’t shown any signs of letting up his rate of productivity despite being upwards of seventy years old. But while it’s certainly noteworthy when a filmmaker can average a movie a year for more than forty years, there’s also something to be said for those at the opposite end of the spectrum, who don’t make very many movies but make each one count in a way that guys like Allen can’t hope to do. One of the best examples of the latter sort of director was the great Dane (sorry) Carl Theodor Dreyer, whose 1943 film Day of Wrath supplied last week’s quote. Aside from shorts and for-hire projects, Dreyer averaged one feature per decade following his 1928 masterpiece The Passion of Joan of Arc, each one a stone-cold classic- but Day of Wrath was one of his best. Congrats to those who got it.
A few remarks before we get to this week’s quote. First off, does anyone know where I might be able to find Dreyer’s lesser-known works? Having pored over his classics multiple times, I’m awfully curious about the other projects that occupied his time when he wasn’t cranking out classics. Any help would be appreciated.
Also, I apologize for not having this post up in the usual spot, but my new life of not-so-wedded bliss with Angela has curtailed my posting opportunities. I’ll do my level best to have the quote up in time next week.
Moving on… if I had to pick a favorite of all the movies represented by this round’s quotes, the winner would probably be either Day of Wrath and this week’s film. See if you can identify it:
“I don’t know what you have done, but I know that you have followed your father’s teachings, and that is why we have been able to meet again.”
As always, submit your answers to this e-Mail address. Remember, all submissions must be received no later than 11:59 PM Eastern Wednesday night. Good luck!
A few remarks before we get to this week’s quote. First off, does anyone know where I might be able to find Dreyer’s lesser-known works? Having pored over his classics multiple times, I’m awfully curious about the other projects that occupied his time when he wasn’t cranking out classics. Any help would be appreciated.
Also, I apologize for not having this post up in the usual spot, but my new life of not-so-wedded bliss with Angela has curtailed my posting opportunities. I’ll do my level best to have the quote up in time next week.
Moving on… if I had to pick a favorite of all the movies represented by this round’s quotes, the winner would probably be either Day of Wrath and this week’s film. See if you can identify it:
“I don’t know what you have done, but I know that you have followed your father’s teachings, and that is why we have been able to meet again.”
As always, submit your answers to this e-Mail address. Remember, all submissions must be received no later than 11:59 PM Eastern Wednesday night. Good luck!
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