tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4648539613218059072024-03-13T06:09:46.089-05:00Truth 24 Frames per SecondDanielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-57055055714519661512015-11-07T20:53:00.002-06:002015-11-07T20:53:41.483-06:00Defending The Indefensible - An Incomplete Fragment of an Idea, or, Brief Notes on a Masterpiece:<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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How does one defend what is, by all reasonable accounts, a
terrible film? A film disliked by its own creator; a film that, by any
measurable (traditional) assessment of achievement – writing, acting,
photography – falls flat at every turn? A film seemingly cast out of its
director’s celebrated oeuvre, unavailable on any home video format*, rarely, if
ever, broadcast on television, stricken from the history books - with all these
strikes against it, why can’t I stop thinking about Howard Hawks’ <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Red line 7000</i>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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1. Dave Kehr’s original Chicago Reader capsule review – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">‘One of Howard Hawks's last films (1965),
this study of perverse and insane ambition on the stock car racing circuit did
not do well with the critics of the time, although it has since become
something of a cause celebre. The racing footage, strangely, is flat and
dull—so bad that some writers claim Hawks didn't direct it. But the dialogue
scenes have a primitive emotional force and directness, in spite of (or
perhaps, because of) the young, untried cast, which includes James Caan.
Depending on your point of view, you'll find it either beautifully pure or
sadly unshaded. A puzzlement, but intriguing.’</i></div>
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2. Hawks seems to have accidentally stumbled upon what
Bresson strived so hard to achieve – a kind of flatness that connotes real
feeling and, both perversely and paradoxically, real depth – truth in the lack
of studied affectation. For Hawks, it seems certain that at a different mode of
production, a collapsing studio system, a young generation of actors schooled
via ‘the method’ or television work, and an increasingly prevalent taste for
what might be called psychological realism (perhaps not a precise enough term,
but useful if we contrast it against the bold, demonstrative, physical
directness of the macho old men in Hollywood’s golden age) all relates to a
kind of clash – there’s a similar disconnect between director and acting styles
in Fuller’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">White Dog</i>, itself a
much-maligned late film by a revered old school master (see also Ford’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">7 Women</i>, Hitchcock’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Family Plot</i>, Lang’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">1000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse</i>, Borzaghe’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">China Doll</i> and Preminger’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The
Human</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Factor</i>, among others) . I
hesitate to be accused of vulgar auteurism, yet almost every serious cinephile
I know is equally fascinated by this flawed masterpiece. In his <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Senses of Cinema</i> top ten, the great
critic Fred Camper lists “any late Hawks film, even ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Red Line</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">7000</i>’”, a bold
assertion and simultaneously a tacit acknowledgement of its (lack of) stature
(he also mentions Ford’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">7 Women</i>, for
the record).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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3. While many Hawks films contain a strong female character
(but almost always only <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">one</i>), Red
Line is the only one I can think of that contains a group of them. Hence,
rather than a lone woman looking to gain admittance to the male group (through
tenacity, toughness, tests of character, etc.), we have here an entire second
group, in contrast to the men. Interestingly, members of both groups contain
traditional ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ qualities, i.e. some of the women are
tough, while some of the men are sensitive.</div>
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4. I hasten to attempt some profile of a ‘pure’ spectator,
if such a thing is even possible. I can only speak as one well versed in Hawk’s
universe, and can’t fathom what someone unfamiliar with the Hawksian oeuvre
would make of this odd duck of a film. However, those familiar with Hawk’s
obsessions can trace certain fissures, breaks from old habits and expansions
into new emotional territory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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5. from ‘Who the Devils Made It’:</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Peter Bogdanovich</i>:
Theoretically it’s a good movie. But the only scenes that really played, apart
from the race stuff, were the ones between Caan and Marianna Hill.</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Howard Hawks</i>:
Those two people could act and the others couldn’t. There should have been lots
of good scenes… There were a lot of good scenes in the picture and a pretty
good story, but you couldn’t follow it. That was my fault – I just messed it up
– it’s as simple as that…</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PB</i>: There are some
avant-garde critics who consider it one of your best films’</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">HH</i>: Abroad they
think it’s great, too – especially in France.
I’ve nothing to say.</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">PB</i>: You just don’t
agree.</div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">HH</i>: Oh God, I
don’t think it’s any good. And I think it’s all my fault… </div>
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6. Purgatory: there is a surprising lack of location variety
in the film. By all accounts it was an expensive film, so budgetary restrictions
don’t seem to be the case. Instead, there is a sense of a group of people
encased in some kind of closed system – the same motel, the same bar, the same
track. Almost like ghosts haunting the same spot, cursed. </div>
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7. An intriguing paradox: Hawks doesn’t believe in luck,
good or bad (re: the famous coin ‘trick’ in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Only
Angels Have Wings</i>), but he does seem to believe in fate. Regardless, there
is always the sense that the true professional has some control over the
outcome of an event. Fate is perhaps that one, infinitesimal thing that no one
can plan for. A kind of unconscious Hawksian secular religion? You be the
judge. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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8. ‘You see this shirt? It’s new. Those shoes? They’re new.
No one ever wore them but me. Everything I got is new. Second hand just don’t
appeal to me’. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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9. ‘It’s a helluva way to make a living’. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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10. Robin Wood takes one for the team; from his book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Personal Views</i>: *incomplete</div>
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11. Hawks’ Women, Round 2: *incomplete <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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12. Male pathology; Part 8 continued: James Caan would act
again for Hawks, in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">El</i>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dorado</i>. In
that film he essentially fulfills the same function as<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ricky Martin in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rio</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bravo</i>, that is, the
young upstart who both respects and challenges his elders, attempting to prove
himself in their eyes. It’s a fine performance in a fine film, but his role in
Red Line strikes me as a specific kind of advancement, a kind of tacit
acknowledgement on Hawks’ part of his patented macho bravado – an
acknowledgement, one must admit, that didn’t progress into later films,
presumably due to Red Line’s disappointing box office. Caan’s *** is fearful of
not measuring up, a common enough theme in plenty of Hawks’ films, but here
extrapolated to its furthest logical extreme as a sexual hang-up – is he/am I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">good</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">enough</i>?.
I could be mistaken, but I can’t recall any Hawks film that deals so frankly,
so directly, with this kind of performance anxiety. That Caan becomes a
neurotic mess is also atypical of Hawks; rather than suffer silently, or
heroically (and symbolically) overcome such limitations, Caan not only attempts
to murder his romantic rival, but later admits to it, in a pouring forth of
emotion that’s quite unlike anything else in the Hawks oeuvre. A literal
expulsion/explosion of a subtext that’s been there all along? I tend to think
‘yes’. </div>
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13. James Caan in conversation with Will Harris for The A.V.
Club:</div>
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<b>WH: </b><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">El Dorado</span></i><i><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"> </span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">was actually your
second time working with Howard Hawks, right?</span><br />
<b>JC</b>: Yeah, I was in <i>Red Line 7000</i>. I think I was the only guy who
survived that picture. It was <i>terrible</i>. [Laughs.] But he [Hawks] liked
me. And, I mean, it was nobody’s fault but his that <i>Red Line 7000</i> was so
silly. Three love stories wrapped around race cars? C’mon.</div>
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-54806625630803460652014-02-07T22:15:00.000-06:002014-02-07T22:15:10.966-06:00A Belated Top 20:I'll eschew the usual finger wagging that I've indulged in in years past. Rest assured, the state of affairs I bemoan <a href="http://truth24framespersecond.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://truth24framespersecond.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html" target="_blank">here</a> are still in place, despite the growth of VOD and various streaming platforms. The old ways are, if not dying, at least changed irrevocably, and sticking to old paradigms seems increasingly fruitless. To put it bluntly, the general public isn't experiencing cinema the way that critics are, at least not when it comes to non-blockbusters, and chaining year-end accolades to product that can afford to play the game does everyone a disservice. Having said that, I think InRO's aggregate year end list is a pretty decent snapshot of the year in cinema, so maybe I shouldn't grumble so much. I contributed capsules for <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/home/Entries/2013/12/31_Year_in_Review_2013_-_Top_20_Films,_Part_II.html" target="_blank">Upstream Color</a> and <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/home/Entries/2013/12/30_Year_in_Review_2013_-_Top_20_Films,_Part_I.html" target="_blank">Drug War</a>, both masterpieces in my humble opinion (and, as of this writing, both streaming on Netflix. No excuse not to watch people).<br />
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For what it's worth, here's what I originally submitted to InRO:<br />
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<i>Upstream Color<br />Before Midnight<br />Drug War<br />The Act of Killing<br />Something in the Air (Apres mai)<br />Faust<br />Bastards<br />A Touch of Sin<br />Neighboring Sounds<br />12 Years a Slave<br />Barbara<br />All is Lost<br />The World's End<br />Leviathan<br />Pain & Gain<br />The Lords of Salem<br />Beyond the Hills<br />The Unspeakable Act<br />Like Someone in Love<br />Fast & Furious 6</i><br />
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Both <i>Neighboring Sounds</i> and <i>Barbara</i> got bumped from the list (replaced by <i>Frances Ha</i> and <i>Pacific</i> <i>Rim</i>, if you're interested) although neither played Chicago until well into 2013. I prefer the list as originally submitted. Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-60379603844281761132013-12-21T00:00:00.001-06:002013-12-21T00:00:54.364-06:00Vampires:The group blog 'The Vulgar Cinema' has been running a series of entries on John Carpenter and I was delighted to be asked to contribute a piece consisting of virtually anything I wanted. I chose to write a few words on what is, to my mind, the most under-valued of Carpenter's films. 'Vampires' pretty much disappeared immediately upon release, a fate that would also befall 'Ghosts of Mars' (and pity 'The Ward', not even granted a proper theatrical release in the greater Chicago-Land area). My piece is <a href="http://thevulgarcinema.blogspot.com/2013/12/john-carpenters-vampires-1998-some.html" target="_blank">here</a>, and I wholeheartedly endorse the other entries in the series, particularly <a href="http://thevulgarcinema.blogspot.com/2013/12/walking-tall-interview-with-sandy-king.html" target="_blank">Sara Freeman's interview</a> with Carpenter's producer (and spouse) Sandy King. <br />
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-87491273344102650362013-12-13T23:06:00.001-06:002013-12-13T23:11:05.571-06:00Carpenter's Landscapes, or, a formatting test: <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-44958889874475213822013-10-25T23:31:00.002-05:002013-10-25T23:31:22.956-05:00Escape Plan (2013); Mikael Hafstrom; photographed by Brendan Galvin:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2013/10/25_Escape_Plan_%282013%29.html" target="_blank">A few words for InRO</a>; I like things about it, but the above image is more visually interesting than anything director Hafstrom can come up with.Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-46696865786409475552013-08-24T21:27:00.001-05:002013-08-24T21:33:24.997-05:00'The Hand' (from 'Eros'); Wong Kar-Wai (2004); photographed by Chris Doyle:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/old_hat_film/Entries/2013/8/20_%22The_Hand%22_%28from_Eros%29_%282004%29.html" target="_blank">another entry for InRO's 'Directrospective', this one on Wong's 'The Hand'</a>, a low-key, modest short that nonetheless remains one of the most sensual films I've ever seen.<br />
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-41863389428206415092013-08-16T21:47:00.001-05:002013-08-16T21:47:44.621-05:00Days of Being Wild; Wong Kar-Wai (1990); photographed by Chris Doyle:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a modest appreciation for InRO's Wong Kar-Wai 'Directrospective'<a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/old_hat_film/Entries/2013/8/14_Days_of_Being_Wild_%281990%29.html" target="_blank"> here</a>: Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-19487518050757846622013-07-27T21:05:00.004-05:002013-07-27T21:05:28.162-05:00Drug War (2012); dir. Johnnie To:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>photographed by Siu-keung Cheng</i><br />
<br />Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-40286641714167920402013-07-27T20:53:00.003-05:002013-07-27T20:53:29.647-05:00'Drug War'; or, Johnnie To's Mainland Western:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-2342540567488130502013-07-20T10:49:00.004-05:002013-07-20T10:49:45.693-05:00Escape From New York:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RQtgFG52k2k/UeqxjbDnxHI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Q4aSoC4R5ek/s1600/snake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RQtgFG52k2k/UeqxjbDnxHI/AAAAAAAAAV4/Q4aSoC4R5ek/s1600/snake.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
On the eve of a new 2k digital restoration, I talk about Escape From New York for <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/old_hat_blog/Entries/2013/7/19_Returning_to_John_Carpenters_New_York.html" target="_blank">InRO's 'Old Hat' </a>blog. Spoiler alert: It's still awesome. Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-79719914589888327332013-05-11T19:35:00.001-05:002013-05-11T19:35:31.020-05:00Duelle (une quarantaine): dir: Jacques Rivette; photographed by William Lubtchansky:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZVU1v4GeXw/UY7jivna8aI/AAAAAAAAAVI/DatPI_wpZas/s1600/vlcsnap-2013-05-10-16h36m03s52.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hZVU1v4GeXw/UY7jivna8aI/AAAAAAAAAVI/DatPI_wpZas/s320/vlcsnap-2013-05-10-16h36m03s52.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-46808503900585253622013-05-10T15:46:00.005-05:002013-05-10T15:48:25.164-05:00The Mann Silhouette: 'Ali' (2001), or, Ali as Existential Loner:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sQNFX2hJqMs/UY1bn5VmSoI/AAAAAAAAAU0/YuO3AnN73XM/s1600/vlcsnap-2010-11-10-20h58m30s223.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sQNFX2hJqMs/UY1bn5VmSoI/AAAAAAAAAU0/YuO3AnN73XM/s320/vlcsnap-2010-11-10-20h58m30s223.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>photographed by Emmanuel Lubezki</i><br />
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-6861644721331766132013-05-09T08:09:00.002-05:002013-05-09T08:09:55.007-05:00'Apres Mais' (2012): dir. Olivier Assayas; photographed by Eric Gautier:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4SWOfX6Dz7Y/UYufOBvkftI/AAAAAAAAAT8/OAdv0uhpwTE/s1600/vlcsnap-2013-05-07-13h34m47s66.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4SWOfX6Dz7Y/UYufOBvkftI/AAAAAAAAAT8/OAdv0uhpwTE/s320/vlcsnap-2013-05-07-13h34m47s66.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-62544892502380833732013-02-06T12:58:00.000-06:002013-02-06T12:58:09.492-06:00Walter Hill: Back in Action<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T-Mhkwd1uJA/URKnTKBICRI/AAAAAAAAATY/VuG8PWRY2dw/s1600/Bullet_to_the_Head_Walter_Hill_Stallone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-T-Mhkwd1uJA/URKnTKBICRI/AAAAAAAAATY/VuG8PWRY2dw/s320/Bullet_to_the_Head_Walter_Hill_Stallone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In honor of Walter Hill's return to the big screen, here's a top 5 for <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/old_hat_blog/Entries/2013/2/1_Five_for_the_Day__Walter_Hills_Action_Poetry.html" target="_blank">InRO's new 'Old Hat' blog</a>. Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-6987367219676161532013-01-06T21:11:00.000-06:002013-01-07T19:05:02.296-06:00Annual 'Best of' Nonsense Post, circa 2012: I’m really trying not to get bent out of shape over the annual best-of ritual in which we are about to indulge; the standard qualification, of course, is a traditional, one-week run in the New York and L.A. markets, which seems simple enough until one encounters something like Haneke’s ‘Amour’ or Bigelow’s ‘Zero Dark Thirty’: neither open in Chicago until later in January, hence I’ve seen neither. In fact, playing the NY/LA game is just another way the studios drum up awards buzz and free publicity, regardless of whether or not something like 95% of the country can see the films in question. The other tack is to simply include anything and everything you saw in a given year – more fruitful, I think, but still open to strange vicissitudes like placing a season of a television show along-side movies, or including older films seen for the first time that calendar year. I guess it’s silly of me to take all of this so seriously, but I do think there’s something amiss in critic’s organizations and magazines putting themselves entirely at the disposal of major studios just to get a taste of their product a little bit sooner. <br />
With that in mind, I’ve often defaulted to Jonathan Rosenbaum’s criteria when he was still writing for the Chicago Reader: it had to play in Chicago, it had to be a premier (whether old or new, allowing him room to write about Rivette’s ‘Out: 1’, for example), and any average viewer had to be able to conceivably buy a ticket for it; therefore, no advance critic screenings for Cannes releases counted, but public screenings at the Chicago International Film Festival did. Even this can go awry when hard and fast strictures are in place: last year, I was told not to include de Oliveira’s ‘The Strange Case of Angelica’ or Pedro Costa’s ‘Ne change Rien’ on my InRO 2011 list, as both had had nominal, last minute runs in New York at the end of 2010. For whatever reason, I could include ‘Miss Bala’ (hence its absence on this year’s list), even though perusing some already published 2012 best-of lists has more than a few people claiming it counts this year. Weird, right? So here I present two different lists, each in its own way a narrative of what I viewed in 2012, the differences between the two representing the arcane rules and rituals of this peculiar annual game. <br />
Up first is my InRO ballot (thanks for asking me to play guys), which includes ‘Tabu’. An official 2012 release, yes, but it’s never played in my city (I saw it on a screener, hardly the best way to appreciate Gomes’ stunning mis-en-scene). And while just about everyone would claim ‘A Separation’ as a 2011 premier, we couldn’t see it here in Chicago until the end of January 2012, hence its inclusion on the second list, which is arranged using only my preferred regional criteria. <br />
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Here’s my full InRO ballot: <br />
1. <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/2/29_The_Turin_Horse_%282012%29.html" target="_blank">The Turin Horse</a>
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2. The Master
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3. <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/10/12_Cosmopolis_%282012%29.html" target="_blank">Cosmopolis</a>
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4. Tabu
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5. This Is Not A Film
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6. The Kid With a Bike
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7. The Loneliest Planet
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8. Holy Motors
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9. <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/4/19_The_Deep_Blue_Sea_%282012%29.html" target="_blank">The Deep Blue Sea</a>
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10. Attenberg
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11. A Burning Hot Summer
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12. Oslo, August 31
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13. Bernie
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14. Alps
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15. <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/2/29_The_Grey_%282012%29.html" target="_blank">The Grey</a><br />
16. Moonrise Kingdom
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17. Kill List
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18. Goodbye First Love
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19. Prometheus
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20. Looper<br />
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and here's the <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/home/Entries/2012/12/30_Year_in_Review_2012_-_Top_20_Films.html" target="_blank">aggregate staff list, with capsule reviews</a>. I blurb 'The Turin Horse' and 'The Kid With a Bike', and I must say, despite the inclusion of 'Lincoln', it's a pretty respectable summation of the year in film. <br />
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The top ten for my preferred version of the list would stay (mostly) the same, although the following ten now makes room for some titles that couldn’t be previously listed, for various reasons:<br />
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1. The Turin Horse
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2. The Master<br />
3. Cosmopolis<br />
4. A Separation <br />
5. This Is Not A Film
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6. The Kid With a Bike
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7. The Loneliest Planet
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8. Holy Motors
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9. The Deep Blue Sea
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10. Attenberg
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11. Faust
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12. Life Without Principle
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13. A Burning Hot Summer
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14. Oslo, August 31
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15. Memories of a Morning
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16. Bernie
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17. Alps
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18. The Grey
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19. Moonrise Kingdom
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20. Kill List
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'Goodbye First Love', 'Prometheus' and 'Looper' get knocked out of position, but this shouldn’t indicate any lack of enthusiasm for them on my part. I’d also make mention of a triple threat of rock solid action films: 'The Raid', <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/2/2_Haywire_%282012%29.html" target="_blank">'Haywire'</a> and 'The Expendables 2'; also worth mentioning are a couple of lovely documentary projects that, outside of festival screenings, were never properly released (both are, to the best of knowledge, extra features on dvd/blu ray releases, although I’m not sure if that was what they were originally conceived for/as: ‘A Letter To Elia’, a heartfelt, deeply personal paean from Martin Scorsese to Elia Kazan, and currently available in a massive box set of Kazan films from Fox. Susan Ray’s ‘Don’t Expect Too Much’ is a loving portrait of her husband Nick Ray, while also documenting the long, laborious production process of his experimental film ‘We Can’t Go Home Again’. Oscilloscope has issued both films together on a beautiful blu ray set, which holds the honor of being my home video release of the year. Absolutely essential stuff here.
That’s that: here’s looking forward to 2013.
Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-67027022021653402032012-12-22T00:21:00.000-06:002012-12-22T00:21:08.831-06:00I Did Not Care For 'The Impossible': <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iVM9OPp4xNI/UNVRLbhukSI/AAAAAAAAATE/aoJYMiyMkmI/s1600/impossible%2Bimage.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="225" width="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iVM9OPp4xNI/UNVRLbhukSI/AAAAAAAAATE/aoJYMiyMkmI/s320/impossible%2Bimage.jpeg" /></a></div>
considered, and rejected, for <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/12/21_The_Impossible_%282012%29.html">InRO</a>. Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-87717394605676300992012-12-17T02:34:00.001-06:002012-12-18T12:15:30.124-06:00I Did Not Care for 'Hitchcock':
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This review is also available in a revised and slightly truncated version at <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/12/11_Hitchcock_%282012%29.html" target="_blank">InRO</a>. Below is my original version: </div>
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There seems to be some sense that
critics have responded unfavorably to Sacha Gervasi’s “Hitchcock” because
someone has dared assault ‘our’ (that is, critics) sacred cow. There might be
some credence to this claim if “Hitchcock” wasn’t simply an average, run-of-the-mill-mediocrity.
Indeed, it’s difficult to muster even some incredulousness in the face of such
a simple… bore.</div>
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Ostensibly detailing the creation
of “Psycho”, from initial idea to selling it (or not) to a skeptical studio,
from self-financing to marital discord through editing woes all the way to
release, and subsequent success, this story would seem the stuff of interesting
drama. And yet Gervasi’s endeavor, along with screenwriter John J. McLaughlin,
working from Stephen Rebello’s ‘Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho’, just
sits there, devoid of interest. It is certainly some kind of bitter irony that
a story detailing one of the great films of all time is itself so monumentally
inconsequential. One could ask who exactly this film was made for – those who
are familiar with Hitchcock and his work are the most likely to take issue with
the film’s many, many liberties, while those with little (or no) knowledge of
Hitch, if one could even get them to watch the film in the first place, would
be left with little (or no) understanding of what the ‘big deal’ is. Michael
Atkinson puts it nicely: ‘The biopic is in many ways a kind of cinema that
ferments and thrives on some of its audience's least reasonable instincts. It
represents a form of gossip-and-sideshow spectacle that has little, in the end,
to do with film, filmmaking, acting or, most of all, narrative. It is no small
matter to ask, as movie viewers, <i>why</i> we're watching a particular piece
of narrative cinema.’ </div>
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In what must have seemed on paper
as the height of clever self-reference, the film begins with Anthony Hopkins
introducing the proceeding movie as if it were an episode of the television
program “Alfred Hitchcock Presents”. There’s nothing inherently wrong with
breaking the fourth wall, with Hopkins
addressing the audience directly and making droll jokes about Ed Gein and his
various crimes. I suppose the whole thing is supposed to set a tone, a kind of
playful banter, which wouldn’t be entirely inappropriate regarding a showman
such as Hitch. Still, the film varies so wildly from scene to scene that one
wonders if even the filmmakers knew if they were making a comedy or not. Hopkins
talks to an imagined spectre of Gein throughout the film, in what Glenn Kenny
has described as ‘serial killer burlesque’; it’s an absurd rhetorical device
that serves mainly as a tool for obvious exposition. Later, when Hitchcock
falls ill during shooting, the film presents it as some kind of cumulative
explosion, the pressure of his life finally convalescing into literal breakdown
as spirit-animal-Gein prods Hitch into delirious fits of jealousy. Hitchcock was,
in fact, suffering from a simple flu of some sort. </div>
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It’s during this flu-episode that
Helen Mirren as Alama Reville is, in the context of the film, finally given her
day in the sun. Tending to her ill husband, she’s informed that the set is in
shambles, that they are hopelessly behind schedule and that further delays are
costing the Hitchcock’s reams of money (the fact that they have mortgaged their
home to partially self finance “Psycho” is apparently true). Alma
marches onto set and immediately wrangles the crew, determined to get some work
done. To drive the point home, there’s some business with some extras in the
background literally staring at each other slack jawed, apparently besides
themselves that this woman could come on set and command it like a general (or
– gasp – like Hitchcock himself. Subtext alert). There’s certainly an
interesting book to be written about Alama’s contribution to her husband’s
work. She has some kind of credit on something like more than 20 of his films,
and there’s no doubt that she was a key collaborator. But “Hitchcock” stacks
the deck too much in the other direction. There’s no evidence whatsoever that
she directed anything during Hitch’s illness, and there is ample evidence that
Hitch, once better, simply re-shot most of the footage at a later date anyway.
Gervasi does no favors to Alma, feminism, or the historical record by
fabricating her contributions to Hitch’s oeuvre while ignoring the very real
work she must have done, simply by virtue of that real work being less
dramatic. It should also be noted that Hitchcock himself was very effusive and
open with praise for his wife. He speaks about her with much regularity in ‘Hitchcock/Truffaut’,
at least eleven times by my count, behind only David O. Selznick, Grace Kelly,
Cary Grant and James Stewart (and tied with Janet Leigh, for the record).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
It’s also distressing to see
Gervasi use the famous shower sequence as another facile expression of Hitch’s
supposed mental state, as he has Hopkins
personally pantomime stabbing Scarlett Johansson’s Janet Leigh over and over
again. Bill Krohn supplies evidence that the shower sequence was shot over a
period of several days separated by weeks, with and without Leigh, and that
various pick-up shots were filmed as Hitch assembled a rough cut and decided
what was and wasn’t working. Certainly, Gervasi needn’t show such nitty gritty
detail in an admittedly popular entertainment, but further obscuring the facts
of the sequence to turn it into a wobbly metaphor for an imagined character
flaw is, frankly, beyond the pail. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
Indeed the film seems determined to
linger over every supposed salacious detail, any and all possible deviances
Hitchcock purportedly indulged in. Hopkins-as-Hitchcock
is constantly leering at blonde women, with other characters occasionally
dropping the film-crit term ‘Hitchcock blonde’, as if they were retroactively
analyzing him. Character flaws become over-simplified cause-and-effect
arm-chair psychology: a hard day at the office and a fight with Alma
cuts to Hitch furiously wolfing down can after can of pate. Get it? Because
he’s a fat man, as if such an insight adds anything to our collective knowledge
of the director or what fueled his work.</div>
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I’ve barely mentioned the work of
Hopkins, Helen Mirren, Scarlett Johannsen, James D’Arcy and others. Frankly,
there’s not much to say, as all indulge in the most simplistic
characterizations that likely bare little resemblance to the actual people in
question. I’ll reiterate, complete factual fidelity isn’t any kind of
pre-requisite towards my liking or disliking a project. But these performances
border on the cartoonish. D’Arcy, for instance, does a fantastic impersonation
of Norman Bates, but ignores the fact that Anthony Perkins was an actor, a
skilled performer. The film “Hitchcock” would have us believe that Perkins was,
essentially, Bates, with no differentiation between performer and role. The
less said about Ralph Macchio’s brief appearance as screenwriter Joseph Stefano
the better. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
Ultimately, the truly great
directors left us their own autobiographies inscribed in their bodies of work –
Nick Ray and his doomed romanticism; John Ford and his contradictory celebration
of the individual versus encroaching society; Howard Hawks and his stoic sense
of humor, and solidarity, in the face of an uncaring and unflinching universe.
We can do much better by Hitchcock then indulging in this awards bait
mediocrity – we can revisit, and celebrate, his films. Thankfully, they are
sufficiently adequate to survive this momentary blip on the pop culture
landscape, a movie as sure to be forgotten as the next Oscar ceremony in which
it is sure to be ignored. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-27706844656603052772012-10-13T15:37:00.000-05:002012-10-13T15:37:25.654-05:00Zodiac, 2007: Dir: David Fincher; Photographed by Harris Savides:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-55200791642973796802012-10-13T15:17:00.000-05:002012-10-13T15:17:53.427-05:00Last Days, 2005: Dir: Gus Van Sant; Photographed by Harris Savides:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-57871811495649847762012-10-13T14:27:00.000-05:002012-10-13T14:27:00.485-05:00Cosmopolis:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a few words on Cronenberg's confounding masterpiece, <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/10/12_Cosmopolis_%282012%29.html">at InRO</a>.
Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-47513120048984778992012-09-01T17:52:00.000-05:002012-09-01T17:52:20.587-05:00Killer Joe:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a few words on William Friedkin's new film over at <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/8/31_Killer_Joe_%282012%29.html">InRO</a>. Take a look, yes?Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-75960674314068173112012-08-24T15:09:00.001-05:002012-08-24T15:46:13.339-05:00Run For Cover:(note: I started composing this brief essay well over a year ago, hence the references to Ray’s then current centenary celebration, as well as the just published biography that I still have yet to read. I dug this piece up and determined to finish it, partially due to the just released blu ray of the film, courtesy of Olive Films, but also as a kind of farewell to my friend Jake Barningham. We spent many an afternoon together discussing Ray (amongst many, many others), and ‘Run For Cover’ was something of a pet project for both of us, a kind of orphan film, with no reputation (that we were aware of) and no critical exploration. The time that it’s taken this piece to gestate also represents some kind of golden age for contemporary Ray fans: along with the new high def ‘Run For Cover’, Olive films is also releasing ‘Johnny Guitar’ for the first time in the U.S., and a restored version of Ray’s last film, ‘We Can’t Go Home Again’ has played the festival circuit courtesy of Oscilloscope Pictures. Let’s hope that their impending DVD release also includes the recent documentary ‘Don’t Expect Too Much’, directed by Ray’s wife Susan.)<br />
<br />
1955’s ‘Run For Cover’ contains a key Nick Ray image: it’s a static composition, with James Cagney slumped asleep in a rocking chair, an injured John Derek prone in a bed, reflected in a mirror to Cagney’s left, while a stoic Viveca Lindfors looks on, standing in a doorway frame right. It’s another makeshift Ray family, the young person isolated offscreen, existing only in a mirror-image, while Cagney and Lindfors have seemingly swapped gender roles – he is matronly, looking over the sick ‘child’; she stands alone, looming larger in the frame than both, almost as if standing guard, in the doorway. It’s surprising, with how much dysfunctional families play a part in Ray’s filmography (as well as its ironic counterpoint, the seeking out of non-traditional family roles), that any Ray biographer would skip over the film altogether. However, that would seem to be the case with Patrick McGilligan’s new ‘Nicholas Ray: The Glorious Failure Of An American Director’<br />
<br />
Timed no doubt to coincide with Nick Ray’s recent centennial, McGilligan’s book marks what is, to the best of my knowledge, the first serious attempt at a Ray biography in English. Unfortunately, simply glancing at the title makes me cringe – ‘the glorious failure’ subtitle is an immediate red flag, stating at the outset a thesis that I simply can’t get behind – implicitly suggesting that the figure in question is worthy of study (‘glorious’) while McGilligan nonetheless hedges his bets with a pseudo-romantic notion of the neurotic, tragic artist. As Jonathan Rosenbaum and others have suggested regarding Orson Welles, the establishment has a vested interest in labeling mavericks ‘failures’, rather than suggesting that they are actually independents who only sometimes navigated the mainstream.
Having not actually read the book in question, it was a review in The AV Club that initially irked me. Vadim Rizov writes ‘for the most part, McGilligan’s book is strictly a biography, avoiding criticism or analysis, except when connecting Ray’s most wounded protagonists—most famously James Dean in Rebel Without A Cause—to events in the director’s life. The only implicit criticism occurs whenever McGilligan cursorily skips over what he considers a lesser title (Party Girl, Flying Leathernecks, Run For Cover).’<br />
<br />
Never mind that ‘Party Girl’ is one of my favorite Ray films (or why one would bother to discuss a great artist without ‘criticism or analysis’); ignoring ‘Run For Cover’ strikes me as inexcusable. I’m not suggesting that it’s some kind of masterpiece, but it is a fascinating ‘in-between’ film, in this case, falling squarely between ‘Johnny Guitar’ and ‘Rebel Without a Cause’. ‘Run For Cover’ carries on Ray’s critique of the American mob-mentality started in ‘Guitar’, as a local posse targets Cagney and Derek, whom they believe to be train robbers; that they succeed in maiming Derek leads to the narrative proper. Cagney spends the better part of the film caring for the wounded Derek, then trying (and ultimately failing) to reinitiate him into masculine society. Derek’s ultimate betrayal of his surrogate father precedes the dysfunctional family of ‘Rebel’, as Derek repeatedly tries to wrest away from Cagney’s influence, crumpling under perceived pressures – he’s not as ‘manly’ as Cagney, and will lash out violently in retribution – although there is a tragic, stingingly bitter reunification at the film’s end. Derek redeems himself, at least in Cagney’s eyes, but too late to alter his doomed fate.
Ray carefully modulates genre expectations throughout the course of the film. Cagney and Derek ‘meet cute’ by almost shooting each other in a bit of macho posturing, and their subsequent discovery of a bag of money causes further pause – the audience waits as Derek contemplates shooting Cagney in the back and running off with the loot. Once he decides otherwise, and the pair set off to return the money, one assumes that their interpersonal conflict is over and that more conventional male, father/son bonding will take place. After Derek is shot by a bloodthirsty posse assuming them for thieves, Cagney begins the slow process of healing him, mentally and physically, with the help of Viveca Lindfors.<br />
<br />
It’s here that Ray’s interest in psychodrama really takes hold, as Cagney first pushes too hard, then doubts if his course of tough love is actually working, while Derek preens and whines, his lack of courage and fortitude contrasted with Cagney’s quiet stoicism.
More plot unfolds that’s too dense to fully recount here, but sufficed it to say that Cagney’s mysterious past catches up with him, once again leading the town folk to attempt a lynching, and Derek’s status as inside-man on a town robbery reveals that his dubious character has fallen squarely on the side of outlaw. Some of Ray’s liberal leanings come in to play here, with the above mentioned condemnation of a small town mentality that jumps immediately to violent action, coupled with Cagney’s determination to convince them that he’s served his time (although Ray stacks the decks just a bit by suggesting that he was actually innocent and that his noble character didn’t necessarily need to be rehabilitated).<br />
<br />
(side note: what a great triple feature this would make with Dwan’s ‘Silver Lode’ and de Toth’s ‘Riding Shotgun’, both from 1954, and both dealing with ‘ordinary’ citizens devolving into vicious lynch mobs; I’m no expert, but I think it’s safe to assume some undercurrent of cold war/blacklist era fatigue/critique.)<br />
<br />
Run For Cover has one of the great tragic endings. After pursuing Derek and the gang across another <a href="http://www.truth24framespersecond.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html">deadly Ray landscape</a>, there’s a final shoot out in an abandoned church. Derek gets gunned down, but not before saving Cagney with his dying breath. The redemption in a church nicely mirrors the previous betrayal set in a church, a nice bit of doubling that simultaneously invites a religious reading while suggesting the cruel vicissitudes of an uncaring universe (where’s the hand of God when you need it?).<br />
<br />
Ray’s career has always attracted gawkers and gossip hounds, what with the drinking, drugs, infidelities, exile to Europe, the collapse of 55 Days at Peking and his possible bi-sexuality. Arguably, one doesn’t ultimately need an unsavory account of Ray’s tumultuous life – has any artist put so much naked emotion on the screen? His obsession with damaged, violent men, the women who (usually fail to) help them, familial betrayal, the dark underbelly of Eisenhower era prosperity, youth struggling against a society that doesn’t want them, or can’t understand them, ethnic outsiders and lynch mobs. Ray’s ultimate biography is in the film’s themselves, and we could all do well to watch more of them. <br />
<br />Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-89910770052026389702012-08-20T23:22:00.000-05:002012-08-20T23:28:16.374-05:00I wish... you had... more time:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-81240521427798428122012-07-21T00:52:00.001-05:002012-07-21T00:54:52.962-05:00Prometheus:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I realize that it's about two months too late, but nonetheless, here's some thoughts on Ridley Scott's <a href="http://www.inreviewonline.com/inreview/current_film/Entries/2012/7/20_Prometheus_%282012%29.html">'Prometheus' </a>for InRO. As I mention in the piece, I've virtually no interest in the (typical) internet debate that's sprung up over various theories on the film's exegesis, but instead try to parse some of Scott's visual ideas (of which there are many, most of them fairly sophisticated). Feel free to call me dumb and/or disagree in the comments dear readers.Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-464853961321805907.post-22818520180723703412012-07-21T00:25:00.001-05:002012-07-21T00:30:26.383-05:00Viewing: 07/11/12-07/18/12 (My Week with Jake):A final week of film screenings/viewings with my dear friend Jake Barningham; he and his better half have departed these United States for greener pastures abroad. I wish them the best of luck, and this is what we watched together before he left (a thousand thank you's to the gracious Fred Camper, who facilitated our last day of film watching from his personal collection):<br />
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Redline 7000 (Howard Hawks)<br />
Every Night Dreams (Mikio Naruse)<br />
The Birds (Alfred Hitchcock)<br />
Day of the Outlaw (Andre de Toth)<br />
Ramrod (Andre de Toth)<br />
Seven Days (Chris Welsby)<br />
The Man Who Invented Gold (Christopher Maclaine)<br />
What Goes Up (Robert Breer)<br />
Chartres Series (Stan Brakhage)<br />
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Masterpieces, all, and a fitting farewell to one of the greatest film lovers I know. Godspeed sir.Danielhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04823496467652553501noreply@blogger.com1