Have not seen this in so long.

And I need to see it again soon.  The first time I saw it was at the Volksbuhne (People's Theater!) in East Berlin (Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz! Yes!) in 1994.  There were no English subtitles for me, but I loved it anyway.  (Alice keeps saying, "Essen!" and I know what that means.)

Also saw a play production of Mother Courage by Brecht (all in Deutsch, ja?) and Lang's film, Metropolis with an orchestra.

Those were the days.









xxxoooxxx

Such a great film.

If you love movies and

Have a couple of hours to spare, I would point in the direction of The Criterion Collection's channel on YouTube. I had a delightful morning yesterday, ripping through the eighty or so 3 Reasons videos.  Each one is only about ninety seconds long. 

My faves were Topsy Turvy, Fish Tank, Something Wild, Carlos, Harold and Maude, Brazil, The Lady Vanishes, The 39 Steps, etc, ... It really is a lot of fun.  I think I will try and get the Wife to watch them with me on our big teevee through our Apple teevee box.

Here are a few of those faves:

P.S.:  They do not show him at all in the video but dreamboat Michael Fassbinder is in Fish Tank.  All three of those films come extremely highly recommended by me.



















Mwah, ...

Thin Mints for all the Socialist Heathen Moochers!

The Right Wing's War on Women has always included girls and gays, too:

Well, excellent.  That leaves a lot more for me then.  

And, now that The Boy Scouts of America are considering lifting their ban on gay scouts and scout leaders, we can be safe to conclude that the end-times are truly nigh.

Good grief.

Serious h/t to John Cole and Anne Laurie at Balloon Juice where I got the photo.

UGH!

Michael D Spitler

“I would give anything if you were two people so I could call up the one who’s my friend and tell her about the one that I like so much.” — Aaron Altman, Broadcast News

I suppose I should buy the Criterion dvd or bluray of Broadcast News.  And, I am not exactly sure why I have not already.  Because it is a film I am so intimately familiar with? A film in which I know every single line and moment by heart? Because it is not ancient and shot in black and white? Because the make up and the costumes, though appropriate to the period in which it was made, look so ridiculous now? Because the original score is particularly bad, and severely dates the film, as well?

It is my snobbery, I suspect.  I imagine I first started becoming suspicious and snobbish of big-time Studio Pictures around about E.T.  But Broadcast News (1987), written and directed by James L Brooks, starring William Hurt, Holly Hunter, and Albert Brooks, is most definitely a work of such amazing wit and character, and so touching about friendship, as to blow my precious snobbery to smithereens.  It is a film to share with the entire nation that has not seen it yet.

So, until I do own it, and can start passing it around to anyone who is willing to even meet the film halfway on its own terms, I will "share" the film with you in this space.

And, I am -- "Thankfully", I hear many of you say under your breath -- going to skip a critical analysis of the film*, and just share great quotes and personal favorite moments of the film.  It is a mash note, if you will.  And, is more intended for folks who have already seen and love the film.

Great Quotes first:

Blair Litton: Oh, you think anyone who's proud of the work we do is an ass-kisser. 

Aaron Altman: No, I think anyone who puckers up their lips and presses it against their boss's buttocks and then smooches is an ass-kisser. 

Blair Litton: My gosh... and for a while there I was attracted to you. 

Aaron Altman: Well, wait a minute, that changes everything! 

Blair Litton: Except for socially, you're my role model.

Aaron Altman: Let's never forget, we're the real story, not them.

Paul Moore: It must be nice to always believe you know better, to always think you're the smartest person in the room. 

Jane Craig: No. It's awful. 

Aaron Altman: Okay, I'll meet you at the place near the thing where we went that time. 

Aaron Altman: Wouldn't this be a great world if insecurity and desperation made us more attractive? If "needy" were a turn-on?

Aaron Altman: [singing and reading] I can sing while I read! I am singing ...  and reading! Both!

Aaron Altman: And if things had gone differently for me tonight then I probably wouldn't be saying any of this. I grant you everything. But give me this: he personifies everything that you've been fighting against. And I'm in love with you. How do you like that? I buried the lede.  

[after Paul fires one of his workers] 

Paul Moore: Now, if there's anything I can do for you... 

Employee: Well, I certainly hope you'll die soon. 

Tom Grunnick: What do you do when your real life exceeds your dreams? 

Aaron Altman: Keep it to yourself. 

Jane Craig: No, no, no, it wasn't just the speech.  The same thing happened with this guy. I have passed some line, some place. I am beginning to repel people I'm trying to seduce. 

Aaron Altman: If anything happens to me, you tell every woman I've ever gone out with I was talking about her at the end. That way they'll have to reevaluate me. 

Jane Craig: So you like me, hunh? 

Tom Granick: I like you as much as I can like anyone who thinks I'm an asshole.

Aaron Altman: Six years from now, I'll be back here with my wife and two kids. And I'll see you, and one of my kids will say, "Daddy, who is that?" And I'll say it's not nice to point at single fat women. 

Aaron Altman: A lot of alliterations from anxious anchors placed in powerful posts! 

And, now my favorite moments:

Holly Hunter sending Jennifer off to Alaska ... Hunter reacting to Albert Brooks' declaration of love as if he had slapped her ... Brooks singing L'Edition Special by Francis Cabrel ... Hunter's Come to Jesus "Stop Whining" speech to William Hurt  with Hunter still trying to get him in to her bed after ... the music guys playing the new theme song to Paul, "Big finish!" ... Paul's Come to Jesus with Hunter ... Brooks' and Hunter's moment in the control room to save Brooks' embarrassment ... the domino video and the crowd's reaction to it ... Jack Nicholson not appreciating Paul's crack about knocking some zeros off of Nicholson's contract to save some jobs ... Jane Cusack's mad dash (the film was shot by one of the all-time greatest, Michael Ballhaus) ... Brooks' speech about the devil ... the girly high school-y way Hunter and Jennifer become when talking about if Hurt is off limits to Jennifer or not ... the US Cabinet bit ... Brooks' resigning instead of taking the demotion ... Hurt completely clueless about London being a promotion ... Brooks' kid, Clifford ... just about every single scene between Hunter and Brooks ... and a lot more, besides.

All my love, 

Ardent

*Which means you will not get a paragraph about Susan Faludi's issues with Holly Hunter's character, Jane, and what I think about that.  Whew, ... 

"But with a little sex in it!"

Soon to be released on bluray by Criterion.  Woo-hoo!












xxxoooxxx

This one goes out to all

My wonderful "bad girl" Swedish ladies:  Ingrid Bergman, Greta Garbo, and Harriet Andersson as Monika in Summer with Monika.













xxxoooxxx

Around a billion years ago, in the Winter and Spring of 1983,

A friend from High School turned me on to David Bowie (and the Pyschedelic Furs, and XTC) and I promptly became insanely obsessed with him.  Out went Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Yes, all my Prog favorites, and it became DavidBowieFM Austin.  Drove my parents absolutely flipping nuts, I am sure.  (My Da, Andy, actually likes a little Bowie.  His fave songs are Changes, Golden Years, and Modern Love.)

Anyroad, as I was doing my Risky Business dance at home, devouring and living inside every single Bowie record -- and, I do mean record, folks -- I never really paid any serious amount of attention to the lyrics.  The thing I liked best about Bowie was the whole package.  The ever-changing "brand" he constantly recreated.  I loved that he wore insane clothes, and tons of girly makeup, and that he was constantly doing daft, showy, theatrical stuff as part of his act.  (In 1974, Bowie totally ditched his very expensive Orwellian 1984 sets for his Diamond Dogs tour halfway through, as it was a dud, and a bore.  He went without a set, at all, the rest of the tour, just him with a skull as a prop in a Hamlet get up.  He also used to do mime on stage as part of his show!) That whole part of Bowie naturally appealed to the Drama Major side of me.

But, the fact that all these pretentious theatrical phases were always ultimately tied up in to a Rock format and genre appealed to the teenage male part of me.  That, and the guitars.  And the sex.

I had no inkling that Queen Bitch was a song about a drag queen.  I barely even knew what a drag queen was, probably.  Queen Bitch rocked! The song seemed sexy as all get out, and, it had the word "bitch" in the title.  How naughty!

I still have no idea what the song Cracked Actor is about.  (I will work on that today.) But, Cracked Actor rocked! And, he talks about "head" in it.  I barely knew what head was back then, and I most certainly had not given or received it yet, but it was sexy and risque.

Here are some lyrics from Velvet Goldmine: 

 Velvet Goldmine, you stroke me like the rain

Snake it, take it, Panther Princess, you must stay

Velvet Goldmine, naked on your chain

I'll be your King Volcano right for you again and again
My Velvet Goldmine

And he mentions head again in the first couplet! Looking back now, those have got to be some of the cheesiest and most ludicrous sexy song lyrics ever writ.  (There was a reason the song was just the b side of a single.) I did not care.  I did not even understand it probably.  But, he mentioned head again! And it rocked! (Well, sort of.)

It is much the same thing with Suffragette City.  I have always looooved Suffragette City from the moment I heard it.  I am sure if you had asked me in 1983 what the greatest rock song of all-time was I would have told you Suffragette City.  I liked the guitars a lot.  Suffragette City really does rock.  I loved how the "Hey, Man"s switched channels halfway through the track.  I loved the thought of "Mellow thighed chicks" bending my spine out of place.  Now, I knew what a Suffragette was, thanks to Paul McCartney and Jet from Band on the Run, but by the time I had formulated the thought in my head, What/Where is Suffragette City? What is this song about? would generally be the time "Wham Bam, Thank You, Ma'am" would appear, and I would be lost in a world of teenage horniness again.

But, lo and behold, just the other day, as I was walking to work, listening to Suffragette City, like an arrow through the brain, I finally figured out what/where Suffragette City is, and what the song is about.  It is really simple.  And, I am a little embarrassed I never figured this out earlier.  The brain works in mysterious ways.

Suffragette City is the tale of a college lad, home on break from school in his dinky suburb or village.  Suffragette City is the college town where he goes to school, where all the college girls are uptight, hairy feminist chicks.  (Think roughly of the relationship between James McAvoy and Rebecca Hall in the movie, Starter for Ten.) Our hero and his friend are both immensely relieved and elated to be back home with their easy-going regular suburban/village girls, and all the sex that comes with it, even though our hero confesses to his friend that he is hopelessly in love and sexually obsessed with his Suffragette City girlfriend back at school.

Or, at least that is what I think. How about you?

All my love,
Ardent

Summer with Monika is an

Outstanding film for many different reasons, but foremost amongst them has to be the magnificent and luminescent photography by Gunnar Fischer.  It is a cold and crisp and glowing world that Fischer has captured to tell Ingmar Bergman's tale of young doomed love.

Crisp is a crucial word to describe this film.  In terms of temperature and texture and refreshment. It is a word and theme that appears to inform every single element; from story, art design, photography, and direction, etc, ...

This crispness is also essential to the film's longevity.  It is a film experience that has retained all the same snap and bite that must have exhilarated audiences back in 1953.  Moreover, it is a film that can still speak to young audiences today.

And yes, the shot that Fischer, Bergman, and their star, Harriet Andersson create, wherein Ms Andersson stares directly in to the camera as the light fades behind her and the jazz number mixes with music more sinister is one of the greatest moments of cinema.  Godard copied it in Vivre sa vie.  And scores of other directors have also tried to recreate that moment.  Remember, too, that both Godard and Bergman were romantically involved with their stars when they made these films.  And, yes it comes as no surprise to me that this film would have such a huge impact and influence on Woody Allen.

Summer with Monika is absolutely essential cinema that is just as special today as it was then.  It is available for sale or for rental through iTunes, and Criterion have made superb dvd and bluray versions, as well.








Mwah, ... 

Happy fortieth birthday Roe v. Wade

There is a reason there are three branches of the United States' government:  The Executive,  The Legislative, and the Judicial.

From An Incomplete Education by Judy Jones and William Wilson

Sometimes the Judicial branch is the only way that the rights of a minority can be protected. Think of the thousands of lives and families that have benefited from this monumental decision. It is actually impossible to know the true and total impact this ruling has had on our nation.

That is one of the main reasons I hate state referendums and propositions, and why I almost always vote No on them regardless.  If we left everything to just the other two branches of government then segregation would still be alive and well today in many parts of our nation.

But, now I am just riffing on mistermix's excellent Balloon Juice post today and need to give him full credit.  mistermix is one of my fave bloggers lately.  And we think alike, too.  And, both like Elvis Costello.

So, all credit to mistermix.  And Andrew Sullivan can eat my shorts.












Michael David Spitler

This great original trailer has spoilers.

The Never Ending Procession of Selfless Souls

This conversation began between Nick C and I at work, and concluded between the Wife and I at home.

Poor Edith.  And the Wife and I love her dress.

Nick C and I both enjoy Downton Abbey, but were both trying to make precious just why DA has hit such a nerve here in the United States and has become so popular.  Honestly, DA is not much different than any of the other Masterpiece Theater/Upstairs Downstairs period dramas that came before it.  Or, Gosford Park.  Julian Fellowes, of course, wrote Gosford Park, as well.  And, Maggie Smith stars in both.  Gosford Park had the supreme ensemble directing talent of Robert Altman, too.  And, more English star power than any recent film in memory.  DA went with young unknowns and character stalwarts of British television.  (I just saw Bates in Prime Suspect 7 the other day.  He really can walk! He might not be the nicest man in history!) And, the direction, at times for DA, is spotty at best.  The Wife and I saw an episode from season two recently, chock full of good writing and unusual situations, that was a complete mess in terms of composition, lighting, and editing.  They were having problems with the basic over the shoulder/POV conversation set-ups.  (I suspect it was a young director trying too hard.) Anyhoo, Nick C and I did not think too hard on it, and left our question unanswered.

When I took the question home to Renee, she had an answer in an instant.  The Wife believes that DA is so popular now due to the fact that television today, despite being smack dab in the middle of a New Scripted Television Golden Age, is still supremely commanded by Reality Programs such as American Idol, Jersey Shore, Housewives, etc, ... Renee believes Americans are cuddling up with DA because after ingesting all that junk all day long -- and it is not just teevee junk; but friendface junk, and YouTube junk, and viral videos, and all the scores of other media platforms bearing down on our senses, vying for every second of our attention -- watching DA relaxes them, and makes them feel smart.  Or, I might add, well-rounded and good.

I do not mean good in the sense of experiencing personal pleasure -- although DA often provides plenty of that.  I mean that Americans watch DA, safe in the belief that they will feel that they are, or can be, or will be a better person, a force for good, merely by parking their cans on the couch at nine o'clock on a Sunday evening.  Which is dangerous when you think about it.  True spectators to the Spectacle, where living by proxy is not.

Wow.  What a crank, right? Remember, I like DA.  A great deal.  I have seen every episode and I will continue to watch it until the end, I imagine.  And, I am just as vulnerable to the Spectacle and living by proxy as anyone else.  I am just the sort of pretentious sod that really enjoys Godard films these days because it makes me feel smart or cool, hipper than the average Blockbuster-Driven Cinema Patron today.

But, I am getting off-track.  DA is so popular now because Americans are fed up with the self-serving instant celebrity media culture that they live in.  They are still addicted to it, mind you.  DA is the methadone to the rest of our culture's smack.  And that is a good thing.  It is a good thing in our culture right now to be in rapture with a piece of art that time and time again stresses Doing the Right Thing and living selflessly over self-promotion and hateful back stabbing.  It may be naive.  (Not every flipping person in the teens and twenties of the last century was that good!) It may be heavy-handed at times.  (When will Bates drag that cross through the town square?) It may not even make for the greatest art, but on the whole it is actually just what our nation could use a heaping helpful of right now.  Plus, manners and etiquette need some serious working on here Stateside.  Fellowes is a stone-cold genius.  He picked the absolute best time to lay this on us.

I have not researched it, but the most delicious irony of all this is that DA is the type of show that all Right Wing talking heads should slaver over, but I suspect they are not.  First, it is on PBS, which they abhor.  Secondly, Fellowes suggests we should be like Jesus, as opposed to worshipping him and proselytizing.  (Always a good thing in my book, even though the Wingers hate it.) And, thirdly, there is a fair amount of infidelity and gay stuff going on.  (What? There were gay people back then?) I could be completely wrong on this.  I will check it out and correct myself in a future post if need be.

Finally, when push comes to shove, I still maintain that I, Claudius is miles better than Downton Abbey.  I, Claudius was brilliant in showing us that life has not really changed that much for Westerners since the Roman Empire.  Plus, it is not as didactic in nature as DA, showing us a massive rainbow of types of personalities; some good, many, most absolutely awful true villains at heart.  Just like real-life today.  And I, Claudius did it with acting and writing alone.  I, Claudius was done so cheaply that they often used Theatre "sets".  That is where you play scenes on a black stage with just a pool of light on you, and sound effects, if necessary.  Brilliant stuff.  And, a cracking cast, too, including John Hurt, Derek Jacoby, Sian Phillips (soooo good!), Partick Stewart, and Brian Blessed.

You can watch a lot of I, Claudius on YouTube, though I would heartily recommend you just buy the dvd set yourself.

Ardent

I am not really all that jazzed up

About Obama's Inauguration today.  Not because I am displeased with Obama at the moment.  In fact, I have been supremely impressed with his leadership since winning re-election.  I am just more interested in the actual policy and politics of his presidency right now than the ritual show and drama.

I still do not think he will actually be able to get any ground-breaking or essential policy through an obstructionist GOP House, and I will not believe anything will be done about gun control until I actually see it.

But, he has forced the GOP to cave twice already.  The trillion dollar coin thing is a fantastic gimmick that he can keep in his back pocket if the GOP get all hostage mad again, and it has actually been quite fun watching Fox News lately, as a parade of GOP meat puppets splutter and bloviate incomprehensibly while Obama/Biden/Pelosi/Reid continue to hoodwink a fractured messed-up GOP-controlled House of Representatives.  I also think Lew will not be confirmed, and that Hagel will.

No, my favorite political story of the moment is the three day Come to Jesus confab that the GOP held last week where the Big Important Bidness Types told them to stop dicking around with the debt ceiling, and a pollster instructed them that rape is a four-letter word, and to never never never ever say it again out loud in public.  Jeez-Louise, right? Of course, they all still believe in Magical Ladyparts, but they should keep those beliefs to themselves, according to some In the Loop/Thick of It/Veep Tory Toddler Whiz Kid straight out of Dartmouth, I am sure.  What a bunch of hateful morons.  Really.

************

I am going to skip the Inauguration, and Fox News' coverage of it.  Today, I am going to clean and organize the computer room, work more on a large movie roundup post and hunker down with three films today:  Bergman's Summer with Monika, the documentary Searching for Sugar Man, and (for MLK day) Wattstax, or Respect Yourself The Stax Records Story.

Happy MLK Day everyone.  I hope we all have a splendid Monday!

************

xxxoooxxx

I was not exactly super looking forward

To the Girls season two premiere last Sunday.  In fact, I was a tiny bit bummed that I would have to wait until April for season two of Veep.  Oh well, that will make for a nice birthday present for me from HBO, Armando Iannucci, Jesse Armstrong (also co-producer and co-writer for Peep Show), Julia Louis-Dreyfuss, and the rest of the gang.

Hannah! DTMFA!

Plus, I have desperately been trying to get the Wife all caught up on Downton Abbey.  (I will have a post on DA for you on Monday next.) We nearly watched Girls off-handedly, as a throwaway.

But Girls was superb, and I am all psyched up again for this new season.  There was a lot of sex in the opener, natch, but I loved a lot of the dialogue, and the fact that Ms Dunham is not afraid to shoot interior scenes in close to natural lighting.  The whole episode was particularly dark in terms of light and palette, which is refreshing because those are the kind of settings these twenty somethings would be living in.

And, of course, episode one would have been worth it for the character Adam's immortal quote, "When you love somebody, you don't have to be nice to them all the time."  This was a big favorite at our house, and has prob been Tumblr'd to infinity by now.

I still hate Adam.  I still hate Marnie, and I am not looking forward to her ensuing reconciliation with her old boyfriend, either.  And, I am still rooting for Shoshanna.

There will be ups and downs for me and Girls over the next two months, I am sure, but I am, looking to forward to the ride, nonetheless.

************

Looks like it is Girly Night Part Infinity times seven tonight! With Meghs and the Wife.  Woo-hoo!










Love you all,
Ardent

Nouvelle Vague, Billy Idol (!?), Godard, and Bande a Part!

This is all types of greatness.






Mwah, ... 

I was thumbing through my copy

Of Conscious Capitalism the other day (Chapter One: Capitalism: Magnificent, Misunderstood, Maligned) when, ...

No, I am just kidding.  I have not tried to Liberate My Heroic Nature quite yet.  I will get around to that after I have seen every single Godard film and have written a very lengthy essay on his films and the impact of language, the quick-cut, and silly dancing on a God Is Dead Western World.

In the meantime, if Conscious Capitalism could please stop doing this and just let us do our thing, that would be great.  'Kay? 'Kay!

Farewell, My Queen is an absolute

Smashing little entertainment; a ripping yarn impeccably shot, written, performed, composed, and designed.  It is an old-school film that hurtles along at breakneck speed, and achieves everything it sets out to achieve in one hundred minutes, while still leaving the viewer wanting more at the end.

"Yes, your wig does make you taller than me, your Majesty."

I wanted Renee and I to see this at the theater last Spring but it never worked out.  (And, by the way, the Wife tells me the Cinearts "Dome" in Pleasant Hill is closing up shop soon.  Very sad.)

The film is based on a novel of the same name by Chantal Thomas, which I am now very eager to buy and read for myself.  The story concerns three days in the Palace at Versailles just after the Bastille has been stormed.  The court goes in to complete paranoid chaos as to what to do in response, to save the monarchy, and to save their heads.

Queen Marie Antoinette has a reader employed at the court, and decides that the best way to save her lover's life, a Duchess, is for her reader and the Duchess to switch roles and "costumes" in a carriage bound for Switzerland (Basel! Where my Dad lives!) so that if they decide to execute the Duchess, they will have executed the reader instead.

I gather that Ms Thomas must have been quite familiar with this juicy, perhaps apocryphal  tale of the court, and decided to write the novel from the reader's perspective.  The reader is madly in love with the Queen, herself.

Diane Kruger plays the Queen.  Lea Seydoux plays the reader.  And, Virginie Leydoyen plays the Duchess.  Benoit Jacquot directs.  It was shot by Romain Winding, and there is a beautiful, exquisitely and tastefully utilized,  original score by Bruno Coulais.

Plus, I had a "Hey, it is that guy!" moment with the film, recognizing a French actor from a different French film that I love, without remembering his name.  That means I am seeing enough French films now for that to occur.  Pretty damn cool! (The actor's name is Jacques Boudet and he also appears in The Names of Love.)

Supremely highly recommended.  Buy or rent on iTunes, or buy the bluray or dvd  for yourself for at home.

************

And, then I promptly fell asleep during Godard's latest, Film Socialisme, about one third the way through, which says more about the film than my tiredness in this instance.






Mwah, ... 
Love you all,
Ardent

"Things are more like they are now than they ever were before."

DAN AYKROYD:  Thank you, Father.  Hello, I am Weekend Update station manager, Dan Aykroyd.  A couple of months ago, Louise Brown, the world's first test tube baby was born.  That is the topic of tonight's Point/Counter-Point.  Jane Curtain will take the pro test tube baby point, and I will take the anti test tube baby counter-point.  Jane.

JANE CURTIN:  Dan, there is no joy greater than that of motherhood.  No doubt, you can not understand this because your mother, obviously, regretted your birth, and refused to suckle you, thereby accounting for your fearful, frustrated personality.  

It is inconceivable that anyone other than a cold, pompous ass, such as yourself, would deny a woman a chance of bringing a baby in to the world just because she is unable to conceive otherwise.

What is this? Irrational fear of medical advances? Why not deny the nearsighted their eyeglasses? Why not deny the diabetic his insulin? Well, Dan, I just hope that you contract some disease for which they have no cure, and that you waste away and die.

(laughter and applause)

DAN:  Jane, you ignorant slut.

(laughter and applause)

The issue here is not "motherhood", "apple pie", nor, is it the traditional medical treatment of disease.  The issue here is genetic engineering.  Once science can make babies in a test tube, then what? Will science make intelligent babies? Pro-Socialist babies? Slave babies? And, who will play god in these decisions? The government, that's who.  Which is run by liberals like you, Jane.  Then the world will be inhabited by billions of laboratory perfected ignorant sluts like yourself.

(laughter and applause)

JANE:  That's the news.  Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.  

(applause)

************

Things are more like they are now than they ever were before.  You would like to think that that were not the case, that the discussion in the TradMedia had evolved.  Perhaps, even gotten better.  Instead, this sketch from the 70s only shows itself as a blueprint for the amplified counterproductive discourse of our times now, a whole generation later.  

Michael David Spitler

More Women Michael Loves AND A Crucial Book

I am currently working on another massive movie roundup that would include my thoughts on the two latest Godard films that I treasure, Weekend and Vivre sa vie.

And, I can not tell you how tempting it is to get my copy of Against Interpretation off the book shelf, and read Ms Sontag's very famous words on Godard and Vivre sa vie.

But, I will not.  At least, until I publish my review, as such.

Actually, I have read Ms Sontag's essay probably a number of times before, but, as I had never seen the film until recently, none of the words or thoughts have been in even the slightest way retained by me.

************

Anyhoo, that is all I have for today.  Hopefully will see Amour sometime soon with the Wife.  I love you all, and everyone have a fantabulous (wow! they did not indicate a spelling issue w/ fantabulous!? It is a real word?) Saturday and Weekend.  (Ha ha.)

Here is Ms Sontag, a Woman Michael Truly Loves.

And here is the book she wrote that changed my life.

Mwah, ... 

What a phenomenal document

This recording is.  The girls have trouble clapping on the right beat, and The Beatles, themselves, seem to be gobsmacked at the insane reaction they are getting.  The climax seems to occur whenever they hit that "Meeee" note.

The song was the b-side to She Loves You, and Lennon and McCartney are actually poking fun at themselves after the "Yeah yeah yeah" fusillade of the a-side with sardonic Northern accented "Oh yeah"s for the flip.

Honestly, we may never see anything quite like this again, in regards to adoration for a musical group or artist.  It was a perfect storm that reached the ultimate critical mass.  So big, in fact, as to carry numerous other groups and artists on their coattails.

Stunning.











Ardent

Swing swing swing with Anna Karina in Vivre sa vie!

Yeh, Tarantino did not copy this at all.  Right.










Mwah, ... 

Daisies

Mr Cousins and I were getting on like a house on fire.  I was auditing his course, if you will, on my couch, watching his documentary, The Story of Film An Odyssey.

Getting on like a house on fire, we were, right up until the French New Wave.  And, then it got ugly.  There were points I wanted to throw napkins at the screen.  

No mention of Rohmer or Melville, at all.  And, barely any time devoted to Godard.  Instead, Cousins went rapturous and riot over Fellini, Pasolini, and Antonioni.  Now, Nights of Cabiria is a no doubt masterpiece, and Fellini is obviously a massive influence on just about every director since, including one of my heroes, Bob Fosse, but the rest of his oeuvre does very little for me. Pasolini looks intriguing, if a little heavy, and Antonioni's "Trilogy" is a bridge I will eventually cross when I know that the time is right.  Just like, I have finally realized that I am ready to devour Godard's 60s films at this moment, right now.  

There are other problems I have with Mr Cousins' course, too, notably about the New American Cinema.  But, I am going to save my powder for that until another time.  And, anyway, all is forgiven, because Mr Cousins introduced me to Sedmikrasky (Daisies), directed by Vera Chytilova in 1966.  (Before the Soviet tanks rolled in to Prague in the Spring of 1968 and shut that whole party down.)  

Daisies is an absolute revelation to me, on so many different levels.  It is one of the finest "Women's Pictures" ever made, full stop.  That, of course, sounds like a back-handed compliment, but should not be considered such.  I have never seen a film so in tune with what it means to be a young woman in the Industrial West.  I am near tempted to say that it should be compulsory viewing for every college age female (and male, honestly) in the Western World.  Near tempted, because, I obviously do not really mean that.  It would take so much joy out of the experience of discovering something so fresh and new, discovering something quite on your own, the feeling that you held a splendid secret to yourself.  (And, who were those worthy of sharing that secret with? One of the greatest personal pleasures of enjoying art.) 

Daisies seems to be lauded as a dadaist or surrealistic work.  (Like much of what I speak on in this space, I have not done extensive, or even cursory, critical review.  I would rather get my thoughts down first, and then compare.) But, I do not see that, at all.  Obviously, style leaves its fingerprints all over this fantastic motion picture.  But, it plays to me as a straight symbolic work, right out of the old-world tradition.  There is a story here, if not perhaps of the classical three act Hollywood variety.  

I say symbolic because Ms Chytilova has so expertly used the symbols for her story, as not to be enigmatic or pretentious, but illuminating.  The female symbols are:  eggs, apples, daisies, butterflies, roses, etc, ... The main male symbols are newsprint, newspapers, and magazines.  I know of no other film that best exemplifies the magical, other-worldly sensuous (not sensual) relationship between food and drink and women than this one.  

Ms Chytilova has crafted the tale of a young, free-wheeling spirit, eager (but not desperate) to lose her virginity and become an adult.  (But, does adulthood come with losing your virginity? In 1966, maybe.  Now, not so much.) Chytilova uses two actresses, playing two parts of a whole, Marie I and Marie II, to portray the Catholic/Western Madonna/Whore complex.  But, Chytilova pokes fun at that, too.  By using two female characters for what may be considered the male and female forms of a woman's psyche, she has ultimately rendered men unessential.  The men in this film are either workmanlike tools, or wealthy bourgeois idiots.  (One of my favorite moments in the picture is when Marie I, Marie II, and a wealthy businessman are at the train station.  The man asks Marie I to get him a newspaper, so he can have some time alone with Marie II.  When Marie I finally shows up, she has not just the Prague paper, but every single other newspaper and magazine available at the tote.  If that is not one of the greatest representations of the typical, generalized male/female relationship then I am a fool.) Marie I, the virgin side of the psyche, eventually realizes the futility of her efforts, and absorbs the other half of herself, Marie II, the whore, and becomes whole.  It is not a statement of lesbianism, despite men being so infrequent and foolish in the picture, as a statement of self-actualization and empowerment.  

But, there is another thread here that I would like to unravel.  

Greil Marcus changed my life in the book, Lipstick Traces, in which he proposed that, like Jung, that there must be a collective Western subconscious that speaks to artists across the decades and centuries.  

This collective subconscious played crazy tricks all over my mind as I watched Daisies yesterday.  

Look at the cabaret scene in Daisies.  Look at the way Marie I completely resembles the great stage actress, Gwen Verdon.  

Now, is it more likely that Ms Chytilova, behind the Iron Curtain, in Communist Czechoslovakia, had seen the Broadway or Hollywood production of Damn Yankees or any other things of Fosse's work? He had not made a film yet.  Or, was Fosse exposed to Daisies at some Broadway or Hollywood party after hours, as "Check this out.  It will blow your mind."

The fingerprints are all over it.  You would think there is no way that Cabaret or that Daisies were not influenced by each other, whichever one it was that did it.  Or, is there a true collective subconscious that is holding us in its thrall?

Just a couple of Czech girls drinking Pilsner Urquell at the cabaret

xxxoooxxx, 

Ardent

Don't wake me up today/Under my duvet is where I want to stay

Massive Movie Roundup (Part Two)

NOTE:  I am going to be using a star system for these films, something I am not usually fond of, but feel is appropriate for the purposes of this post.  The star system I will be using will be similar to the Michelin Restaurant Guide.  Most films made would receive no stars in my book, but then again, I do not often see films that I would not recommend to folks.  "*" is a Recommended Film.  "**" is a Highly Recommended Film.  And, "***" is considered a Classic or a Masterpiece.  There are no halfsies, either.  

Murnau Connections:  Struss and Rosher

Completely unwittingly did I decide to pair these two pre-code films together, both from 1933, The Story of Temple Drake and Bed of Roses, for this post, before realizing that each film was shot by one of the cinematographers that worked on FW Murnau's masterpiece, Sunrise.

Karl Struss shot Temple Drake and Charles Rosher shot Bed of Roses.  Struss does a much better job with his film than Rosher did with his, though Rosher does have one moment during Bed of Roses that is a dead ringer for a sequence in Sunrise, which plays likes a vibrant joyous hallucination.

Bed of Roses is the first Constance Bennett film, I think, I have ever seen.  Ms Bennett was the featured star on TCM a couple of months back, and I have been dutifully dvr'ing some of her films to check her out.  I watched Bed of Roses first because of the subject matter -- a couple of prostitutes decide to go "straight" by becoming "legitimate" gold diggers instead -- and the fact that it is a pre-code picture.

The film, directed by Gregory La Cava, gets off to a bit of a rocky start, but really hits its stride by the time Bennett "bumps" -- she has jumped overboard, trying to escape a man she has rolled for sixty dollars -- in to Joel McCrae, who fishes her out of the river onto his cotton barge.

Ms Bennett is certainly a delectable treat, though not much of an actress.  She is very sexy in her scenes with McCrae, and she seems inclined to play every scene with him, leaning back, practically supine despite standing up.  And, McCrae and her do have a steamy kiss sequence that heats up the house.

But, watching her onscreen, one gets the feeling that she was quite aware of her limitations, and had no desire to improve her talents.  She seems quite content, and bored, with being a sexpot.

The story goes like this:  Bennett and her buddy, Minny, played by Pert Kelton, are released from prison in Louisiana, with just enough money to get on a steamboat that will take them about half the way to New Orleans, where they would like to start over.  Kelton has to turn a trick, her last, with a grocery truck driver to get them to the steamer.

Upon the steamer, they decide to roll a couple of guys, so as to make it to NOLA.  Bennett is able to procure sixty bucks from a soused Mr Oglethorpe, but not before Bennett has noticed another very attractive wealthy man on the boat, a publisher, Stephen Paige.  Mr Oglethorpe does not have a complete blackout, however, and reports the stolen money to the purser.

Bennett jumps overboard and is saved by McCrae, but loses the sixty dollars in to the Mississippi River.  The cash was in her stocking, of course.  Is not that where all women carry their money?

McCrae gives her some dry clothes, and a catfish dinner, and promises to take her to the Big Easy.  Bennett robs McCrae, and quits the barge before McCrae wakes up the next morning. Although a little turned on by the hunky bargeman, she has bigger fish to fry.

She finds Stephen Paige in the phone book, and poses as a newspaper reporter, wanting to do a syndicated feature for her chain on successful businessmen, such as Mr Paige.  She asks his feelings on prohibition, and fakes a heart condition, pleading for a small drink.  This is one of the finest moments in the film, thanks to La Cava, Rosher, and Bennett.  The crystal decanter of bourbon glitters seductively on the desk as her prepares her drink.  Then we get a close-up of Bennett, asking Paige if he would like a drink.  He says no, and then Bennett takes three tiny tiny sips of her spirit, wetting her lips, making them shine.

She rolls Paige, naturally.  Gets him rip roaring drunk, and stages the scene at his apartment while he sleeps it off, leaving her stockings and shoes, and dress on the floor, right next to the empty champagne bottle.

He has a reputation to uphold, so Paige, a bachelor, buys her a lavish apartment, and makes her his "kept" secret woman.  But, Bennett, even as a gold digger, has a code.  Now, that she has made enough money to support herself, she returns to McCrae's barge, to pay back the "investment loan" she stole from him.

Of course, McCrae is in love with Bennett, and asks her on a date.  She very reluctantly agrees.

McCrae and Bennett begin seeing each other on the sly, while Bennett maintains her posh apartment.  When Minny returns to our story, she finds Bennett lounging at home, bored.  Minny has landed a Sugar Daddy, herself, the man she and Bennett rolled on the steamboat.  Minny is impressed with Bennett's new lifestyle, but is suspicious.  So is Paige.  Both Minny and Paige are convinced Bennett has a secret lover stashed away somewhere.  Bennett confesses her love to McCrae to Minny, and eventually Minny, under pressure, tells Paige about McCrae, but not where he lives.

Paige is stung, and mad, of course, and threatens to blow the whole relationship up in an argument with Bennett.  Bennett reminds him of his reputation which he would like to uphold, and that makes for a very tenuous truce between them.

Then, Bennett leaves.  She leaves Paige and McCrae, gets a job, and an apartment on her own, neither man knowing where she is.

Paige finds her, and tells her that he would like to marry her, and show the whole world how much she means to him.  Though Paige is heartbroken when she demurs, he now has enough respect for her, that he lets her return to her life, able to fly on her own.  He tells McCrae, though, where she is.  McCrae finds her, asks her to marry him.   She says, Yes, and that is the end of our story.

LaCava does a fantastic job with the story, and the film, and it is a saucy, pert little Woman's Picture Melodrama.  I was not expecting much.  In fact, I was probably going to consider myself lucky if I got a few good pre-code sexy lingerie moments in this film.  There really is not much of that, but Bed Of Roses (**) shines, nonetheless.

The Story of Temple Drake (**), directed by Stephen Roberts, was based loosely on Faulkner's novel, Sanctuary.  A novel so candid, so seamy, so "dirty", that upon Sanctuary's publication,  the Hays Code told the studios to forget ever making a picture of it.

Well, we know what the studios thought of the Hays Code in those days, the early 30s.  And Paramount did their own "cleaned up" version anyway.

And, it is really quite good.

We are in the deep south again -- this is Faulkner, right? -- and Miriam Hopkins plays Temple Drake, a spoiled rotten Southern Belle Party Girl, with dozens of suitors, who she strings along shamelessly.

There is a riotous crazy party held at her massive estate, but she gets bored and tromps off with one of her suitors.  The suitor is already suitably wasted, himself, but insists he needs more drink. And, he says he knows where to get the best booze in the area, a gang of dangerous bootleggers, deep in the woods.

They make it to the gang's hideout, but barely, having to walk a good distance, because lover boy has smashed the car in to a tree.

The first person the two encounter is the "slow" boy the bootleggers have standing guard.  The boy is dazzled by Hopkins' shiny frock and elegant ladylike ways, basically falls in love with her, and becomes protective of her.

The leader of the gang, Trigger, played expertly by Jack La Rue, falls in "love" with Hopkins, too, but has no desire to protect her.  Trigger wants to own and exploit Hopkins.

Trigger rapes Hopkins in a nearby barn.  The slow boy witnesses this, and Trigger then murders the slow boy to shut him up.

Another, the best, and most respected, suitor of Hopkins, is a defense attorney -- played by William Gargan -- who is hired to defend the man Trigger framed for the slow boy's murder.  The accused man's wife gets the accused to reluctantly point the finger at Trigger, and Gargan goes to find him.

Gargan finds Trigger in the big city, in a bordello, sitting right next to Hopkins, who he has "turned out".  Trigger threatens Gargan, but not before Gargan pleads with Hopkins to come back home. She defiantly tells Gargan, No.  She is happy where she is.

I am going to stop with the story line there.  You really should see the film.  I am not sure if it is available on dvd yet.  I saw it on TCM.

And, as lurid, seedy, and adult as the film version was for 1933, apparently, through my research, the screenwriters really cleaned it up from the novel (which I have not read.)

In fact, the film was so daring and provocative that Paramount withdrew it not long after its original release.  And, it is believed, that The Story of Temple Drake, was finally the pre-code film straw that broke the camel's back, got the Catholic Legion of Decency in a serious tizzy, and helped end the pre-code days forever.

But the real stand-out amazing thing to me about this very fine picture is the way Roberts, Struss, and La Rue created and executed the performance of Trigger, and the way the rape scene was performed.

Every single time we see La Rue on the screen it is in extreme close-up with a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth.  Every single time.  Except for two.  The rape scene is shown with a close up of La Rue as normal.  A close up of Hopkins, demonstrably frightened.  Then a close up of La Rue, the same but out of focus.  A close up of Hopkins, also out of focus.  Another close up, in focus, of La Rue, as he lifts his hand to take the cigarette out of his mouth.  Then all goes black.

This is absolutely chilling to watch even now.  The out of focus close ups completely unnerve the viewer, near to making you feel sick.  I am getting creeped out now just thinking about it.

The Story of Temple Drake is a rough little ride, a pre-code heavy hitter with a serious melodramatic punch.  Highly highly recommended.






xxxxooooxxxx,
Ardent

This song is now part of the

Heavy rotation of the R&B station where I work.

I caught it for the first time with a couple of team members about two weeks ago, researched it, and heard it good and proper even more recently.

Honestly, this has got be one of the weirdest, meanest, and flat-out worst songs I have ever heard.  The "story" of the song is that if McDaniels had any strength of character, any self-respect at all, he would dump his partner, forcing her (him?) to beg for him back as he walks out the door. But, our hero is not a Tower of Strength, so, the relationship, presumably, will continue.  (If I were his partner, I would dump him!)

Plus, the arrangement, with its hilarious fatuous horn part, is sickly and weak.  McDaniels hits his "Meeee" note with aplomb, but the rest of his singing performance is godawful campy, complete with ridiculous gasps before the last lines of the chorus.

Bill Withers wrote and performed something of a vaguely similar nature, Use Me, which is about a hundred miles better.

I hear Tower of Strength every day at work now.  It is not growing on me.  I like it less and less every time I hear it.

Ardent

Pretty much as I expected

The GOP got their lunch handed to them over this whole Fiscal Cliff Kabuki Theater.

The GOP had no leverage whatsoever in these negotiations, and were still able to get some v modest concessions from the Democratic camp, but on the whole got whupped.

The economy still stinks, of course, and there is no chance for more stimulus, or a jobs bill being put together.  Plus, the GOP will resort to more hostage taking when the Debt Ceiling needs to be raised in a few weeks.

Eric Cantor comes out the really big loser in all this, trying to go behind Boehner's back, and usurp him, while Boehner has preserved his speakership for the next term.

Nancy Pelosi, on the other hand, once again proved that she is one of the greatest House Leaders of either political party in decades, probably since Tip O'Neill.  Ms Pelosi is a masterful politician, and supreme vote whipper.  She always seems to know exactly how many votes she can count on, or rustle up, for all the legislation that passes by her desk.

The GOP, having been so thoroughly stomped on, naturally, decided to take their ball and go home, refusing to extend the Violence Against Women Act, and voting for Hurricane Sandy Relief. Creeps to the end.










mds

Learned about this watching The Story of Film

It is twenty minutes long, yes, but it is worth it.  Amusing and lovely.

Walter Ruttmann - Lichtspiel Opus I (1921)

This is my 1000th post on fauxluxe.

Thanks to everyone who takes the time to read this blog.  I love and appreciate you all.  And, Happy New Year, everyone!

This was hung up in Billy Wilder's office.  Every day he would ask himself how his great mentor would do it.  Brilliant beyond words.

I am currently watching the fifteen part, sixteen hour long "film course", The Story of Film, An Odyssey, which is streaming on Netflix.

In the introduction to the series, the "author/teacher", Mark Cousins, seems wanting to provoke an argument about the history of film, and just how different his history will be, which made me somewhat wary.

But, there is no need to be.  This history is hitting on exactly all the big highlights that I already knew about, and has the bonus of teaching me about dozens of directors and films that look very intriguing, and which I am very excited to seek out, most of them from Japan.

In fact, watching the series, I need to keep a little notebook to remind me of these "new" films and directors.

I am currently about halfway through the series, and the Indian director, Satyajit Ray.  I will keep you folks posted through my journey.

(P.S. Mark Cousins' Northern Irish accent is to die for.  That is pretty entertaining on its own.)

Once again, Happy New Year, everyone! I love you all,






Mwah, ...