What comes after Christmas? TRUE CRIME

It's time to start thinking about true crime movies to go along with my true crime reading. I bring this up in honor of Devil in the White City, which as of now has two potential film adaptations, one with Tom Cruise in a production role and one with Leonardo DiCaprio in a starring role. Wikipedia only notes one of these as pending, but I read somewhere this week about the second.

Here's my potential list:

The Atlanta Child Murders - I'm reading Evidence of Things Not Seen, and feel obsessed with the case, so  the miniseries seems like a difficult to find must have.
Bonnie and Clyde (also banjo numbers!)
In Cold Blood and Capote
The Green River Killer - I read Green River Killer, the graphic novel adaptation, so I'm feeling excited about this one too.

What else should I include? This is an open call for anyone to edit this post, adding their own suggestions. Or you could put suggestions in the comments, but that's way less fun.

Holiday movies partial recap

Holiday movie theater time: MIIV and Sherlock Holmes 2. Mostly these made me want to climb the Burj Khalifa and watch episodes of Sherlock until the end of time. In dvd rentals we've finally seen Hanna, which wasn't bad. Saoirse Ronan is pretty great, plus it was fun to watch Thad swear up and down we'd find the director does music videos when it turned out he does british dramas. Good times! We watched the final installment of Harry Potter, which sucked big time in exactly the way you'd expect. I re-watched episodes of Drunk History. 

I still haven't seen The Girl With... and Tinker Tailor, though I did buy the book for the latter.

Now we're rewatching Paul, and I'm mentally remapping Simon Pegg's career, including high and low lights. 

1997 I'm Alan Partridge - awesome!

1999-2001 Spaced - Indeed!

2002 24 Hour Party People - sounds good

2004 Shaun of the Dead - Yes!

2006 - MIIII - well...

2007 Hot Fuzz - YES

2007 Diary of the Dead - really? I had no idea. Or maybe Lydia and I keep talking about this?

2007 Run Fatboy Run - Nope, I can't support him here.

2008 How to Lose Friends... - This is where I began to suspect a slope down hill

2009 Star Trek - not terrible

2009 Robot Chicken - Dunno, but I hear good things.

2010 The Chronicles of Narnia - how did I not know this?

2011 Paul - liked it

2011 The Adventures of TinTin - again I had no idea

2011 MIIV - not bad actually

2012 "untitled Star Trek sequel" - woot!

I thought the above would be a much clearer downward plummet. Here's to what it actually is: a bit confusing but overall not bad.

It's probably time to come home and do some work. 

Tinker Tailor Etc.

I can finally see this movie on January 6th! My quest to see this movie Tinker Tailor Soldier Sucked.

FWD:

Newsweek asked Martin Scorsese for a list of "kids' movies" for their holiday viewing list. His excellent list includes Night of the Hunter, The 400 Blows, and The Curse of the Cat People.

(testing mobile posting...)

Christmas Injustice

I am watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the stop motion animation featuring a number of finely needle-felted animals and Burl Ives singing with a banjo. WHAT could be better I ask you?

I'll tell you what would be better. It would be better if the song Ives sings while strumming a banjo actually had a banjo in it.

I submit, for your consideration, exhibit A:

A snowman, clearly strumming a banjo.

Now I submit to you exhibit B: A recording of Ives singing the song, the same recording that appears in the film.

You will note, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that while a banjo appears visually, no banjo can be heard in the song.

Where is the banjo, Ives?!? BANJO PLAYERS OF THE INTERNET WANT TO KNOW. WE DEMAND THE LOST TABS.

This just got good.

It's hard to say why TMC's Thin Man marathon is the perfect Christmas warm up, but It absolutely is. I'm making cookies, so I'm missing a lot, but I can tell you this:

There's totally a Christmas scene in The Thin Man, so that's legit.

There's totally Jimmy Stewart in After the Thin Man, so get your Christmas on.

All I'm saying is it's finally Christmas.

And it doesn't hurt that Comedy Central played Christmas episodes of Futurama all afternoon.

"Your mistletoe is no match for my T.O.W. missile."

"Watch out! His belly is shaking like a bowl full of nitroglycerin!"

"Ho ho ho! It's time to get jolly on your naughty asses!"

Amy: He knows when you are sleeping.
Farnsworth: He knows when you're on the can.
Leela: He'll hunt you down and blast your ass,  from here to Pakistan.
Dr. Zoidberg: Oh...
Hermes: You better not breathe, you better not move
Bender: You're better off dead, I'm tellin' you, dude.
Fry: Santa Claus is gunning you down! 

Fry: I'm Santa Claus!

Hermes: No, I'm Santa Claus!

Amy: We're also Santa Claus!

Dr. Zoidberg: And I'm his friend Jesus.

Mayor: You guys aren't Santa! You're not even robots. How dare you lie in front of Jesus?

Has anyone else had similar height uncertaintly all these years?

THANK YOU.

Plus, great evidence for our ongoing debate about Tom Cruise, Simon Pegg, and their weird mutual obsession.

support your local

By now, I guess everyone has read Farhad Manjoo's [controversial, incendiary, blasphemous...] article on Amazon vs Independent Bookstores. http://www.slate.com/articles/technology/technology/2011/12/independent_bookstores_vs_amazon_buying_books_online_is_better_for_authors_better_for_the_economy_and_better_for_you_.html
The response has been...um...strong, I guess you could say.

What strikes me about this debate, and the Independent Bookstore whose demise everyone is urging me to mourn, is the utter foreignness of it from my experience. I have never been turned on to a great book/author because of a recommendation made to me by an employee of a independent bookstore. Not once. In part this is because I am not a very social person (that is why I like books, because reading can be so solitary), and I do not seek out conversations with store clerks. It is also probably in part because I am not big on attending readings. I don't enjoy meeting famous people any more than I enjoy meeting non-famous people. Maybe less. I have also always lived in college towns, so inasmuch as I am interested in things like Seeing a Famous Author Read Her Poems, I have always done that at a university.

Two kinds of people have given me in-person recommendations that have changed my life/habits/knowledge: librarians and video store clerks. Librarians, as opposed to people who work in bookstores (or video rental stores), are generally required to have a masters degree in what they do. And while they might not get paid enough, they usually earn a living wage.

But video store clerks. They are the cultural heroes. These are the guys (and they were mostly guys, in my own personal experience) who could tell you when the next season of The Sopranos would be out, and who might just keep a copy behind the desk, knowing you would probably be looking for it. They could answer a question like "What is the new movie from the guy who directed that movie with the girl who was the friend in the princess diaries?" They were just as passionate and serious and informed discussing who was the best Doctor, which was the most important Kurosawa film, or what country produced the greatest amateur porn. They could explain what the deal was with the subtitles on Let the Right One In, and they had an opinion about whose fault it was.

These guys did not have lofty ideas about "educating the masses" or "creating spaces of cultural literacy" or whatever: they just really loved movies. They were geeks of the highest order. And I will miss them.

p.s. I just heard that Amazon is planning on opening a facility in Chesterfield, and hiring some 1300 Virginians. So does that mean that when I buy from Amazon now, I am supporting my local economy?

Ho ho hum.

Today is December 21st, and I am watching Elf. This is the beginning of my Christmas viewing. For me, Christmas is entirely about a few movies and a lot of cookies. Tomorrow I start making cookies.

Elf is an unexpected movie. It's exactly the sort of thing I think I'll hate, but I don't. I like Elf. I like it just fine. It's the first thing I saw a Deschanel in. She's blond, but it's Zooey. It's weird, I can't stand the girl now, but I liked her in Elf. She sings a small enough amount to be tolerable, and she doesn't do much cloying cuteness. Plus, I feel sort of sorry for her in the scene where she is supposed to be eating with chopsticks and she appears never to have seen such a thing before.  In the shot below she does pretty well almost getting a scoop of noodles to her mouth. Good work!

The blond hair is weird, right?

 I'm not sure why I watch Elf. In part I can't bear another viewing of It's a Wonderful Life, and no one is ever showing the movies I think are actually perfect for Christmas, namely Harvey and You Can't Take it With You. Why aren't those Christmas movies? I think they should be.

Lacking those, and lacking a video store, I'm watching Elf, and it's not too bad.

I'll be posting intermittently on the theme of The Christmas Movies I am Watching and the Christmas Movies I Wish I Were Watching. Join in if you wish.

James Franco in the news again

"Overhyped Hollywood hunk"? Come on, NY Post. No way.

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/manhattan/the_franco_cut_kIRVk4WuVdydz59WZ4I5tL

The Key to Reserva, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Commercials

I am not sure if I'm required to write 500 words for a film that runs only nine minutes. A two hour film gets about 600 words, which averages out to about five words per minute or 45 words for The Key to Reserva.

It seems that this short was an advertisement for Freixenet Wines, and it may be the only film I review that you can watch in its entirety online. Before going any further, you should consider watching the film as it will prevent the disappointment of spoilers.
I'm not quite sure if I should feel upset or amazed by this film. It's not uncommon for big name directors to do commercial work, and prove that they are able to create amazing pieces of art (Terrry Gilliam has a brilliant Nike soccer commercial).

Let me explain why I'm amazed. The film brilliantly captures the aesthetic style of a number of Alfred Hitchcock's greatest films. Though I watched the film only once before writing this post, I'm certain I saw refernces to Vertigo, Rear Window, The Birds, and Notorious.

But it's not just the references that makes this so enjoyable. Scorsese is extremely funny, and funny in a way that I don't think would be accessable to the general viewing public. But perhaps Freixenet only wants to cultivate the most intellectual of wine drinkers.

However, I feel an overwhelming sense of disappointment because I realize the film is just a commercial for Spanish sparkling wine, and perhaps this means art can be just a byproduct of a commercial investment. I have no idea why this depresses me so much.

Of course, I might not find this practice so depressing if commercials were only directed by talented people who wanted to make an interesting short film instead of try and push product based on what market research tells them will compel people to buy it.

I haven't mentioned that this film features Simon Baker and Michael Stuhlbarg, and only Simon Baker is listed on the commercial's web page. The only reason I bring this up, is that Stuhlbarg goes on to work with Scorsese on both Boardwalk Empire and Hugo.

On a side note, I tried to keep every paragraph to 45 words as a challenge for this short film. Though I'm well under 600 words, I do believe I've worked nine times harder than I have for any blog post I've written to date.

This Entry Should Be Read Loud!

In the previous two entries I had emphasized the desire in Scorsese's films to create their own realities, and I thought that what I would very cleverly do was use a documentary to discuss the ways Scorsese captures reality. Even having seen The Last Waltz twice in the past month, I failed to remember how "unreal" it is, and thus I'm going to spend yet another entry discussing how Scorsese creates reality in place of capturing it.

I fucking love The Last Waltz. I never want to write that again in a blog post, but there is something about the music in this film that makes me want to ignore my pretenses and just make bold and unrestrained comments. If you'll permit me one more, Van Morrison is the greatest human being ever.

Okay, now that's out of my system I want to say that this documentary goes out of its way to try and prove to you that this was a real event and the camera is only capturing the last performance of The Band. During interviews with the various members of The Band, Scorsese is featured prominently and they even discuss restarting scenes to make sure they get the right take. Even the short tracking shot with both Rich Danko and Scorsese walking through the studio feels like it wasn't intended to be part of the film, but was simply them setting up the next shot. The desire to be transparent is just too transparent.

So how does the The Last Waltz create its own reality? First, this concert features Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Joni Mitchell, Eric Clapton, The Staple Singers, Dr. John, Emmy Lou Harris, Ringo Starr, Ron Wood, Neil Young, Neil Diamond, Muddy Waters, and yet it's about The Band. You might see a line up like this at a festival with each performer on stage for his/her own set with The Band as the featured guest. No concert like this could ever exist in this format. That's a fact.

Then there are the moments when the film cuts from the concerts and interviews to "live" performances on a sound stage. The Staple Singers perform, "The Weight," and Emmy Lou Harris performs "Evangeline." It's during the performance with Emmy Lou that again the camera work reveals just how much of a movie this is by showing the crew and the stage all working during the performance. What's even more bizarre is that there is absolutely no audience in attendance to watch either of these performances. Oh, and Robbie Robertson is clearly playing a fictional instrument during the performance of "The Theme of the Last Waltz."

I think the inclusion of the sound stage performances is part of what undoes the "reality" of this documentary. This and the fact that the film begins with the encore, all make us uncertain as to what it is we're watching and how we can orient ourselves in this film. This should be fairly easy as it's a live concert, but then again it isn't. Maybe it's like Robbie Robertson says in the film, this isn't a concert it's a celebration of sixteen years of touring and performing by The Band.

What I really want is for someone to write about having watched the concert to get a sense of what really happened because the film, though brilliant, is in no way an accurate portrayal of the concert. Again, this isn't a critique nor is my desire to have just a straight concert film, but I find it brilliant and at times frustrating to see someone use live events to create a completely different reality.

For the next film, I'm thinking I might watch the Age of Innocence as I have absolutely no desire to watch it, and think it's time to come down from my Last Waltz high. Oh, and though I didn't get a chance to comment on it, no one has done more cocaine than the cast of this film. Just ask Neil Young.

Martin Scorsese Day Two

In order to prepare for the Scorsese marathon, I took a quick look at the films he's directed and decided to start with films I had not seen. I also felt it was prudent to look at the IMDB top 250 to see what films made it to the list. It's not surprising that an overwhelming number of the films that appear on the list were released after the invention of IMDB, and the rest of the list reads like a introduction to cinema class. This is no less true for Scorsese as The Departed (55) and Hugo (201) have made it to the list along with Goodfellas (15), Taxi Driver (43), Raging Bull (79), and Casino (165). The only reason I bring this list up is because The King of Comedy is definitely deserving of the same recognition as any one of these films.

It's perhaps trite to bring up that this film predicts the American future where people are unnaturally obsessed with celebrity and fame. Because of this, I will refrain from any further discussion about it even though the entire movie centers around one man's obsession with a late night talk show host. In many ways, I think it's unfortunate that this film isn't mentioned in the same breath as films 15, 43, and 79 as it is as good as anyone of them. I think it could be easily the greatest performance of De Niro in a Scorsese film, and I'd be hard pressed to find a film where Jerry Lewis is as impressive.

What's most impressive about this film is the way in which Scorsese is able to create a clear predator in Rupert Pupkin, but one that lacks any of the immediate intimidation of De Niro's more violent and aggressive characters. At times it's heartbreaking to watch Pupkin try to mold the reality in his head onto the world around him, yet it's also terrifying to watch a man so removed from reality ignore the clear markers of what is real. And did I mention that somehow all of this is funny?

And on top of all this, the film is absolutely beautiful and compelling from a cinematographic stand point. There are a number of moments in the film (Pupkin performing for his "studio audience," Sandra Bernhard having dinner with Jerry Lewis) that are striking when the film in no way needs to be visually compelling. Moreover, these moments of aesthetic achievement don't feel out of place because the film wonderfully complicates things by showing the reality of 1980s America with the reality that Rupert Pupkin is trying to create for himself. Without sure footing in either reality, the audience can just accept the film not just as either/or but as both/and. This film is both the world of 1980s America, and the world in which Rupert Pupkin is a star and a celebrity, and the audience does not have to make a choice.

What I loved most about this movie was the simple fact that at no point did I know what I was supposed to feel. It wasn't like the scenes in Raging Bull or Goodfellas when I knew I was supposed to feel horror or disgust. When Robert De Niro has taken Jerry Lewis hostage, I couldn't stop laughing and I couldn't stop feeling the overwhelming sense of anxiety that Rupert would always be a danger to himself.

Twelve Days of Scorsese

Lydia pointed out last week that this year marks the blog's second most prolific output since its inception. In honor of this, I've decided to adapt a philosophy of quantity over quality and try to make 2011 the most prolific year in the blog's history. In order to achieve what I hope will be enough to put us over the mark, I've decided to watch and review the bulk of Martin Scorses's canon starting with Hugo, and then working my way through the highlights as I am able to get a hold of them.

Now, instead of using this post as a freebie and just reporting what I plan to do, this will be the first post of the series.

I should begin by saying I hate 3D movies, and I feel that 3D is a marketing ploy to make unwatchable films interesting. In reality, my hatred stems from the release of Avatar and the style of the 3D glasses. At the time I was wearing Ray-Ban Wayfarers as my normal prescription glasses, and somehow I was well ahead of the fashion curve. Sadly this would not last as the new world of 3D glasses would not be red and blue paper frames, but plastic frames modeled on the frames made famous by Jake and Elwood Blues. As I walked into the theater to see Avatar, some young pup proudly announced that my glasses were just like hers. I have yet to recover.

And as an aside, as someone who has to wear glasses regularly, the thought of wearing another pair of glasses over my glasses to watch a film is just awful.

All of this aside, Hugo is an absolutely brilliant film and a better argument for the transition from 2D to 3D than any film before it. As egregious a director as James Cameron can be, Avatar was a fine film and a great argument for 3D film making. However, the success of Hugo as a film stems from contextualizing the argument for 3D by showing the history of film making as one that constantly benefits from advances in technology.

In a flashback, Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley) is on the set of a film choreographing a fight between four men and four skeletons. In order to show the defeat of the skeletons, Méliès stops the camera from rolling any further, has the actors pause and hold their position to allow for them to disappear from the frame. Now only a few moments before, there is a scene where Méliès watches the Lumiere Brothers' film of the train pulling into the station, and we begin to understand that technology in the right hands makes "dreams come true." The step from filming reality to creating it through technological means is the same thing that is happening now with the transition from 2D to 3D. We could continue to make films in one way, but if there is potential to use the medium to create then we should embrace it.

Side note: It should be said that in many ways the argument could also be made that with absolutely no digital support, Georges Méliès made more stylistically innovative and brilliant films than most of the people working in movies today. If I had seen the 2D version of this film, I might have had a different impression of the film.

With my pride firmly past my larynx and on the way to my stomach, I do want to point out that the film makes a few bizarre choices. Primarily, the film is set in Paris a city which appears to be wholly devoid of French speaking people. Sadly, the film for all of its innovation falls back on the cliched American device of casting British people to represent any group of foreigners (think Dr. Zhivago, etc.). At times it was extremely grating, even when the acting was amazing. As the French say, "That's Life."

summer movie double dactyls

Because I think everyone should be writing more double dactyls (aka higgledy piggledies), I'm sharing mine, left over from the summer. (It's harder to write silly poetry about the kind of movies I've seen lately.)


Captain America:
Higgledy-piggledy
Captain America
took on some nazis with
photoshop pecs.
After some cryo this
octogenarian
looks a lot better than
you might expect.


Xmen:
Higgledy-piggledy,
MacAvoy, Fassbender,
mind control, cameo,
decolletage.
Cameo, submarine,
psychoanalysis,
Fassbender, MacAvoy,
training montage.


That's the best I can do. Someone else's turn now.


(Note: with this post, 2011 is tied with 2008 as our second-postingest year! Total posts, not posts-per-month, which would be a ridiculous way to compare.)

About that

From an email from Lydia, dated 6/1/10:

“maybe it was about the essential sameness of Sullivan's Travels and hipster fashion? About playing at poverty? I can't remember. I think there were four things you put together into one thought, in two pairs. But I cannot remember what they were.”

Yeah, about that. First of all, I don't remember either. Second, apparently, we’ve all been talking about poverty chic for years, and it's gone way past hipster. Now it's hobo weddings and super-cool looking homeless guys. Arrested Development had us pegged with this one.

Last summer, Quirk Books released a new title, Home Economics: Vintage Advice and Practical Science for the 21st Century Household. It is an anthology designed to repurpose the traditional wisdom of a variety of women’s magazines and Home Ec guides for the modern woman, most especially women who, in a recession, see clearly the value of thrift. In her review of the book, Victoria Dutchman-Smith attacked the text as part of what she sees as a trend in modern media: “In the social context of the 21st century household, this book is not about saving money; it is all about thrift chic, how to be a good little recessionista, a middle-class poverty tourist who, to misquote Jarvis Cocker, doesn’t just think but knows that poor is cool.” 

Burn.

I'm interested in all of this, especially with regard to movies. As is already obvious I go to Design*Sponge for my  information on how people are buying their way into looking like a movie. Don’t get me wrong. I love these movies, I love looking at them, and I love Design Sponge. That's precisely why it sits so ill with me that a site I usually like tells me to look better by imitating something really unsettling.

A year and a half after the above email, we're irked by the aesthetic of Breaking Bad. They’re too folksie, in a super cultivated way. If we’re the Target class, why don’t we want to look that way? Why don’t we want our movies to look that way? And why at the expense of others? Make no mistake, it's frequently about this kind of expense. I submit the following for consideration: 

Living in The Fantastic Mr. Fox (The cost of furniture featured in the post alone--carved out of a tree by thrifty foxes!--is $15,672.00) 

Living in East of Eden (featuring a Vintage Factory Cart, $795; and an antiqued bread board: 5. Bread Board, $55)  

Living in Oh Brother, Where Art Thou (featuring Vintage 1940s Overalls, $125; and amazing commentary "The film oozes Southern charm of the Dust Bowl variety — suspenders and rocking chairs; front porches and mint juleps; escaped convicts and well-pomaded hair. Bluegrass sets the whole story on its feet, and wow, I was born in the wrong time.")   

Living in Cider House Rules (amazing commentary: "Not many movies portray a New England fall better than The Cider House Rules. Set in Maine among apple orchards, rambling old buildings, seaside towns and lobster docks, it’s obvious why we crave the 1999 adaptation of John Irving’s novel when fall rolls around. Toby Maguire plays an orphan trained as a doctor who struggles with the morality of providing health services to pregnant mothers who arrive at the orphanage. Moral dilemmas aside, we’d jump for joy to be adopted into the scene.") 

Living in Driving Miss Daisy (probably enough said, but check out this: "Driving Miss Daisy, where have you been all my life? Crotchety, sophisticated old ladies, sprawling southern mansions, classic cars, Morgan Freeman in suspenders, mahjong circles, driving gloves, the piggly wiggly. Seriously, a girl could base her life off stuff like this.") 

Living in The Last of the Mohicans (enough said without items or commentary)

 A lot of commentators say these trends are harmless, but when I look at the colonial Africa-themed wedding, I don't believe that. This post, by the way, is a lot more serious than I intended it to be, but I started googling and just got...distressed. That said, I love Sullivan's Travels. I just really love it. It says a lot of what's been said, but less directly and more effectively. You'd do better to watch it than to read this.

Spoiler Alert

I generally think spoiler alerts are funny. I don't really know why. I also at times find anarchy enthusiasts funny. This stems from many things, most particularly my tendency INTENSELY IDENTIFY WITH ANARCHY ENTHUSIASTS.

So generally, I think this post by the local anarchist collective to be the singularly most humorous thing I've seen in days. Nothing ruins a good Die Hard movie night like a stiff dose of politics and an eager desire warn the public about any unexpected fun they might not have.

Speaking of movies and wearable items...

Design*Sponge has done a "Living In" for Fargo. I'm really loving it, as I want snow so badly this week.

awards season: handmade edition, 2011

For those of us who love to make things with our hands, there can be no better model of precision, piecework, and attention to detail than Antonio Banderas's Robert Ledgard, the mad scientist at the center of the newest Almodovar film, The Skin I Live In (La Qiel Que Habito). I am a quilter, and while my medium is usually calico and his is mostly human skin, I feel a certain kinship with him, as he struggles to match a corner.

my next quilt may be entirely taupe

previously on NTC, handmade movies: 2010 2008

"The two most important things that can happen to you in a mainstream movie are being killed and having an orgasm."

Ebert gets down to business.

Drive

Other people in the theater did not like Drive as much as I did.  I think I understand why--it's very slow and when it is not slow it is very brutal. If you went there to see Ryan Gosling looking pretty, and driving fast, you could reasonably feel disappointed. If your objection to the movie is that it lacks a moral center though, I think you have missed the point. I think the joke is on you, for thinking you could get your morals from the movies in the first place. Drive is an examination not just of violence, but of violence in the movies. It is a movie about movies.

Drive is all dressed up as an eighties movie. The music, the scribbly pink text of the credits, the costumes (especially Christina Hendricks in one particularly rad acid-washed tight gray hoodie), the way the romantic relationship develops mostly in eye contact and awkward silences--every scene that is not drenched in blood feels like it would be right at home in Some Kind of Wonderful or Pretty in Pink.

The main character, who does not have a name, is a stunt driver. When he puts on a mask and gets in a police car he will drive for the scene, then we see the car crash and flip over, it is impossible not to think about the other stunt driver, the guy who is really actually driving that car in that scene. I am not saying it is staggeringly original, but it is layered--there is Ryan Gosling, then there is the character he is playing ("driver"), who is wearing the face of another actor, but inside that costume is actually another actor, a real-life stunt driver. Albert Brooks (scary Albert Brooks!) plays a film producer/investor/criminal--he talks about the european action movies he used to produce—he thought they were shitty, in case you were wondering. In case you were wondering whether the movies are terrible and corrupt? Oh yes, they are.

There is a scene in an elevator. A bad guy, and Carey Mulligan, and Gosling is there to keep her safe, and she doesn't really know. Like the rest of the movie, this scene is mostly silent. Then in slow motion, Gosling moves the girl into the corner, in slow motion he kisses her, and the lights of the elevator obligingly dim to match the action of the scene. This is the sort of thing that happens in movies. The lights come back and the kiss ends, and Gosling beats the bad guy to death with his hands and feet, literally crushing his skull under his heel. The violence in this moment is astonishing, and as Carey Mulligan backs slowly out of the elevator, she seems to hold a lot of different emotions in balance on her face: shock, fear, disappointment, confusion, bewilderment. And maybe I'm overreaching here, but I think the reaction is sadness and regret, and also betrayal: he is thinking, What did you expect?

That's what the movie was saying, to those ladies behind me who groaned when Albert Brooks deocculated a guy with a fork, and giggled when Ron Perlman said "fuck" for the five-hundredth time. You came to the movies--you aren't here for a nonviolent resolution, or for complicated depthy characters. You came here for some cowboy violence and some fast driving. Careful what you wish for.

Jane Eyre

The first time I read Jane Eyre, I was just the right age to swoon over the romance of the whole thing. I liked Jane because she was just like me—she too had felt isolated! She had suffered injustice—adults had misunderstood and judged her. Like me, she read books. She was chock full of faith and morality, but she saw that there is hypocrisy in religion. We had everything in common. When Jane started crushing on the boss, I was right there with her.

Jane has intellectual reasons to like Rochester; unlike everyone else she has ever met, he treats her with a certain kind of respect, as a conversational sparring partner. He recognizes her intelligence. But she also likes him because he is a perfect bad boy. He is mean and unforgiving of people in general. He treats her differently, and it is very pleasant to be friends with a bully—to be one of the few people liked by a mean snob.

Rochester has a mysterious dark side. And he likes Jane not in spite of her nerdiness, but because of it. He likes her because she is bookish and smart and above all good. He thinks she can save him, and he warns her not to. Who could resist?

I read Jane Eyre again in college, and I hated it in the way you only hate things you are very interested in. That summer, I told Cindy I was so angry about the story, I wanted to rewrite it from the perspective of Bertha, the crazy wife in the attic. She said, “Um, have you heard of The Wide Sargasso Sea?” I had wanted the book before I knew it existed, which shows how necessary the book is; it is impossible to read Jane Eyre now without wanting to know more about the mad first wife.

To me in college, it seemed obvious that Rochester was a run-of-the-mill abusive spouse, first to Bertha and then to Jane. I thought Jane's only desire was to conform to a very conventional idea of heterosexual love. I had no time for Jane's “master” this and “sir” that. In this reading, she rejected St. John not because he was too pragmatic or too conventional, but because he was not brutal enough, and love—in all heterosexual relationships, in my world view, in 1996—is synonymous with masculine cruelty. I guess I thought Jane chose Rochester as the best of limited bad options. Now I see that I was wrong about that.

The thing is, Jane did not return to Rochester until she had better options on every front. She was financially independent. More important than the money, she had found in the Rivers siblings the one thing she had never had outside of Thornfield—a family of intelligent, good people who liked and respected her. Returning to Rochester was not a compromise—I'll take a little bullying in exchange for intellectual stimulation. No, she went back to him because he dominated her, not in spite of it. She chose to be mastered, freely and on her own terms. That's why Jane is a radical and difficult kind of feminist hero. There is this scene in Jane Eyre, when Rochester confesses that he loves Jane, and asks her to marry him. He insists that she call him by his Christian name, and she does, just once. She immediately reverts to “master” and “sir,” because she likes it that way.

None of this is about the latest Jane Eyre movie, or any of the other Jane Eyre movies. I have seen a lot of film versions of the story, and they never really get it right. Almost always they soften the relationship between Jane and Rochester. He is more likeable and younger than he should be, and Jane is older. Every film version I have seen simplifies (or completely erases—which makes for some very strange and confusing voiceover from Joan Fontaine in that version) the story of the Rivers family. I think the best Jane and Rochester are Charlotte Gainsbourg and William Hurt, because she is odd-looking and he is over twenty years older than she is. But I think that is the worst movie, because it removes all the coincidences and the supernatural.

I do not know if it is possible to make a great movie version of this story, in part because it is long, and in part because it is subjective—for instance, Jane and Rochester both talk a lot about how unattractive they both are, and I like leaving the reliability of their judgment somewhat up to the imagination. I would like a movie version of Jane Eyre that is appropriately dark. It does not need to be six hours long, but it should be long enough to dedicate the necessary time to the story of the Rivers family, which is long and slow and, yes, ultimately, a little absurd. It should be totally sincere when it turns out that Jane and the Rivers siblings are long-lost cousins, and it should be equally sincere when Jane hears Rochester's voice from miles away, by magic. And in my version Jane loves Rochester in the end less because his transformation makes him humble than because it makes him into a sideshow freak.

Law and Order Sightings

Law & Order is now streaming on Netflix! Not the smutty SVU kind. NO. Original kind. It's awesome, and very very very dated. There are scenes where the cameras are positively out of focus. It's the Dark Shadows of early 90s courtroom dramas.

This may be the inaugural post of a series I Law & Order sightings: big name stars before they were big, playing all kinds of riff raff. Behold below: Is that Phillip Seymore Hoffman? As a drug-addled defendant? But wait, who is his attorney? Could it be Samuel L. Jackson?

Yes. Yes it is. Enjoy.

Clarification on mothers and adult children of mothers in movies

Angela Lansbury was born in October of 1925, which means she was about 37 when The Manchurian Candidate came out in 1962, and Laurence Harvey, who played her son, was three years younger.

North by Northwest came out in 1959, which would make Cary Grant 55. Jessie Royce Landis, who played his mother, was eight years older than he was.

Amy Poehler talked (in some video I can't find) about the age difference between her and Rachel McAdams who played her daughter in Mean Girls. Poehler was 33 in 2004 and McAdams was 26.

Speaking of North by Northwest, the second half of this episode of Selected Shorts  is a pretty great story called Cary Grant's Suit.

Buried

All I have to say about this movie--and it is high praise--is this: I watched it all the way to the end. I really didn't think that would happen. I expected one of two things: 1. there would be some parts that were not just me and Ryan Reynolds, trapped in a tiny box. You know, a flashback or something. Or 2. I would fall asleep before the end. I didn't fall asleep. And (spoiler alert) he is never not in that box.

mystery movie chat

I just came across this chat from April of 2009. 
 
Why does Kristin think Simon Pegg is in love with Tom Cruise? I also believe that now, but only since hearing him on Wait Wait Don't Tell Me recently. 

More important: WHAT MOVIE WERE WE TALKING ABOUT?
   11:11 AM Kristin: SERIOUSLY? he's dateable because his dad wrote a book of philosophy

 me: plus, Einstein - live for other people or whatever?

11:12 AM Kristin: yeah, cause there's no one else to quote if you study philosophy

11:13 AM also, do novelists only come from small towns in the midwest??

11:14 AM because that makes me a sweet girl and brilliant writer who's simply the victim of big city circumstance!

 me: I don't know.

  She didn't like publish her novel though, right?

 Kristin: i don't know i'm still mid movie

  well, towards the end

11:15 AM me: I love how in the movies people are always like "I'm working for a little literary magazine." like it's not glamorous but it pays the bills. Like jobs at little literary magazines are basically the same as jobs at McDonald's.

 Kristin: i know.

  what a crapfest.

11:17 AM me: he's not even cute or funny

  there was exactly one place in the whole movie where I smiled in response to something that happened

 Kristin: mostly i gape at how horrible

11:18 AM me: yeah I was just slightly angry most of the time I was watching

11:19 AM Kristin: oh. she's so michigan.

 me: but I'm usually slightly angry

  did she point to her hand?

 Kristin: ?

 me: you know, to say where she was from

  wait, is she from port huron?

  that's where Kelly is from

  or is she from another port

11:20 AM Kristin: oh! no not yet

 me: no, I don't think she does that

 Kristin: yes huron

 me: that was just the only thing I could think of that michigan people do

 Kristin: they're also sort of quiet. understanted. kind.

 me: oh,

 Kristin: you know. it comes from being so rural.

 me: like eminim

11:21 AM Kristin: yes! or people from detroit.

 me: kid rock

  ted nugent

  I get it

  good people

 Kristin: bruce...campbell...

  shit i know no one from michigan.

  famous i mean.

11:22 AM me: madonna

 Kristin: really???

 me: just think of wholesome people

 Kristin: do we really believe stars behave this way?

 Kristin: naked all the time?

who is the actress we're told is his mother?

 me: no idea

  is she a real actress?

 Kristin: no i assume made up.

  i mean, an actress in life, but i assume the movies are fake?

11:26 AM 

11:31 AM and seriously, does this girl only love one movie?

  ah nice, the scene where he rides the woman. appropriate.

11:32 AM wow in all of new york there's about 20 people at this screening

11:33 AM oh! in order to kiss her he flippantly tosses her novel aside!

  immediate engagement ring!

11:34 AM wait. the comedic ending is that he burned her novel?

 me: hilarious

 Kristin: well she doesn't need it. now she has a man who certainly she can find at the bars.

 me: and she's like "oops!"

  doesn't she look like she's worried about him getting hurt?

  not shocked that her life's work is destroyed?

 Kristin: yes. yes she does.

 me: although, she's probably spent a lot of time preparing herself emotionally for that eventuality

11:35 AM Kristin: true

 me: since she's writing her novel longhand in a tiny book she carries around in her purse

 Kristin: it's a short story really

  just enough to bide the time till she meets someone

 me: I love her writing process

11:36 AM "Well, my boyfriend isn't here yet, I guess I'll write my novel for a while while I'm waiting for him at the bar."

11:37 AM Kristin: "sigh. hes not going to make it. that's enough writing tonight."

 me: I mean, we're not supposed to believe that she uses that notebook to jot down thoughts about her novel

  we're to believe that that IS her novel

 

 Kristin: right

  it's the unrevised original full length novel

11:38 AM several pages of which are gone from wine

  maybe the alcohol explains why it went up in flames so quickly. why didn't her friends intervene?

11:39 AM me: maybe they were too shocked

  by the blocking the view

 Kristin: ugh that bothered me.

 me: the fact that she was just like "oh this shithead is here, I guess I'll kiss him on the mouth"

 Kristin: "yes! he's datable now that he's a total loser again."

11:40 AM i mean honestly, are we supposed to believe assholes are great guys because the only other option is sell out?

 me: I hate it when epiphanies have no evidence to support them in movies

 Kristin: how OLD are we/

 me: I feel like you should always include in the formula a period of weeks or months in which he actually redeems himself

  between the moment of realization and the culminating kiss/engagement/burning of novel

11:41 AM I feel like we could write a better script, even though we are so boring

 Kristin: i will make a movie where a total asshole wants to get the girl and is thwarted by her successful dickish boyfriend. in the end both men will be left with only the other, and the realization that they are two sides to the exact same personality.

 me: I don't object to formula

 Kristin: i don't either!

11:42 AM formula is fun! hence magnetic fields!

 me: can the two men then realize that they hate women so much they can only have sex with each other

 Kristin: y.e.s.

  can the successful man be played by tom cruise? i now believe that simon peg is in fact desperately in love with tom cruise.

11:43 AM me: i want you to also watch ghost town now

 Kristin: i rented hound dog and just buried

  michael and i will watch one at 6:30 if you care ot join us.

 me: a movie in which the woman chooses the putzy twit instead of very good looking human rights lawyer

  like he's good in every way

  but she picks Ricky Gervais because...

11:44 AM I think it's because he made a funny semi-racist joke

 Kristin: of course! he's irreverent.

  fucking sellouts.

 me: the premise of the joke was the chinese names often sound like slang english terms for penises

  oh ho ho ho

 Kristin: with their cultural understanding.

 me: long wang dong!

11:45 AM ha ha ha !!!!

  I don't want to see Hound Dog

  I didn't know I didn't want to see it until I saw how many copies they have at Top Ten

11:46 AM Kristin: i have rented one of those copies

 me: that's the dakota fanning rape movie, right?

 Kristin: yes

 me: you're not wrong to do so

  I'm the irrational one

 Kristin: it appears to be a movie in which a white girl teaches a black man about the blues.

  should be great.  

Is it possible James Franco has competition?

Also: Go Hoosiers.

On Netflix, and on not being the person you wish you were when you created your queue

Almost two years ago I blogged about first setting up my Netflix account. I was so thrilled to have access to movies I couldn't find at any local video store. At 10:15 Sept 17, 2009 my Netflix queue was:

Rudo i Cursi
An American Werewolf in London
Chandni Chowk to China
O'Horten
The Class
Good Dick
Departures
Guest of Cindy Sherman
Herb and Dorothy
Pray the Devil Back to Hell
Soul Power
Tokyo Sonata
The Garden
Eden Log
Frontrunners
Shiver
Splinter
a *lot* of Doctor Who

I have struck out the movies I have actually watched in the ensuing two years. You know what I did with the rest of my time?

Law and Order: SVU.

The trashiest of all Law and Orders.

An old friend recently posted something online about watching a movie called Broken, which he identified as one of the most disturbing things he's seen in a long time. I spent the next few minutes searching around for information about it, and discovered that it has some pretty spectacular reviews on Amazon. Below are some of my favorites excerpts:

Some annoying whimpering that we could've done without. The kidnapper was a cross between Crocodile Dundee and Indiana Jones dress wise. Personality wise, he was just dull dull dull. I dunno, man.

The only thing that made this movie upsetting was finding out it's based on truth.*  

We basically know nothing at all. Including who he is, why he tortures people, why he chose Hope, how he captured her, what the point of sewing a razor into her stomach was, and why the hell he insists on wearing this ugly hat. It really isn't menacing at all. [see photo.]

i really like the sustained undercurrent of evil tension and fear throughout the entire movie. perhaps it is the fact that the bad guy has moments of "could you call it" appreciation for his victims...  

A woman wakes up trapped in a wooden box. Not sure how she got there, she's just there. Man, talk about freaky!

Yes, it makes SAW look like HEEHAW. The harsh bloody events grate on your mind and turn your soul into shredded cheese. Brooootal.

BROKEN STARTS OFF LIKE IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOVIE. THIS MOVIE IS STRANGE.  

I've watched a depressing number of movies today that have scenes which can only be called unapologetic filler.

Okay, so maybe the guy wasn't all snips and snails and puppy dog tails...**

Lots of screaming in some parts, which may be seen as irritating.

The best part of the movie was the haunting music from Mortiis. It added the only element of emotion.

Extreme and Demented! Just the Way I Like Them. By now you must believe that I'm demented or something. Good assumption. I work at it...by watching such horrific films as "BROKEN".

A hackneyed attempt to duplicate the gore in saw without any of the plot line.***

*I could find no confirmation of this anywhere, and based on the plot outlines I don't see how any of it could be confirmed.

**Isn't he? Isn't that poem all about how little girls are edible and little boys are dismembering cannibals? Let's check: "sugar and spice and everything nice" vs. "snips and snails and puppy dog tails." You decide.

***This viewer longs for the intricate plot development of the saw movies. LOOK ON YOUR WORKS, HOLLYWOOD, AND DESPAIR.

[photo: I agree the hat is not menacing. It is possible the hat is more prominently featured in the film than in the grainy trailer I found, from which this screenshot is taken.]

Lydia: please write a spec script for Law & Order in which someone says, "As a professional psychologist, I endorse their views. You are crazy. Or mentally retarded. Actually, as a computer scientist, I can endorse the "robot" hypothesis as well."

Psychologist: Patient:

My Son, My Son, What Have You Done?

Curious after my last post I watched My Son, My Son, What Have You Done?, which is streaming on Netflix. By "I watched" I supposes I mean "I am Watching." It's pretty much what you expect--a study of someone with a serious problems, loosely based on reality, and existential at great length. It has some weird acting and some even weirder dialog. I wasn't surprised to find that there was not a lot of time invested in writing the film: "Herzog became convinced that they could make a film and that they could write it quickly. They went to a house in the Austrian countryside: Herzog set a week's deadline and within 4½ days they had their screenplay."

You can really feel the extra half a day's effort--especially in the scenes where Herzog has the actors freeze the scene for a long still shot. Sevigny does a fairly good job of staying still.

There aren't any albino crocodiles, but there is a too-long conversation about ostriches.

I can't guarantee I will finish this.

[photo: I didn't]

Big Love

In keeping with my attempts to wrap up everything I said I'd do this summer, today I finished watching Big Love. The series sort of finished behind my back, and even though it looks like a lot of people were debating the series finale online, I somehow missed the discussion, and had to catch up. So, to add to the rabble just a bit too late, here are my thoughts:

First, lot of people complained about the show's climax. I will not be one of them. If I learned one thing from Jurassic Park, it's that the enemy you have most to fear is not the one before you, but the one that lies in wait hidden. So it is with dinosaurs and so it shall ever be with politics.

Though I'm not sure I'd go so far as to call Big Love "thought provoking," I have to admit to feeling the final season left me with a lot to think about. I'm not one to object to plural marriage. I tend to think marriage should be left entirely to churches, and that definitions about who can constitute a single marital unit should be defined by those particular groups, leaving the government out of it except in investigating abuses. So I didn't expect that I would be one to feel judgmental about the relationships bridging Bill, Barb, Nicki, and Margene. I realized as I watched the series conclude that I'm totally wrong about this. I've been consistently waiting for this marriage to fail. I've seen Nicki as the Villain, Margene as the Victim, and Barb as the Real Wife. I saw Barb as trapped in a house of crazy people because of a bad decision made on her death bed; I saw Margene abused by a motley crew of people who couldn't possibly love her; I hated Nicki without much thought.

The final two seasons and the final episode really changed my perspective. This show was never about Bill and his bed-hopping; it was always about a very delicate, if sometimes dreadful, relationship between the three principle women. Barb sacrifices monogamy, but she doesn't lose Bill. Nicki is hateful, yes, but Barb loves her anyway. Margene sacrifices absolutely everything, but she gains a family in return. These three sister wives are less sisters and more one another's wives, and I think beyond all of the drama on the compound, this show actually did a great job of showing what a successful marriage might look like between three people. I say three and not four because Bill, in my estimation, fails where his wives succeed. He makes no compromises, lives only for his own vision, and thus cheats himself and those around him of the rich relationship that results from continual mutual grown and accomodation. I suspect from the series finale that the writers felt this too and saw a real need to turn the focus to Barb, Nicki, and Margene.

I also feel a weird disconnect between where the show left off--with polygamy newly highlighted as a debate in American politics--and where we actually live, in a nation happy to praise the characters on this show (as they do--in countless comments sections of episode reviews, and on message boards about the show), but not to rethink our legal ban of the practice. So, Big Love has finished, as has the Warren Jeffs trial. It's the end of an era. I have absolutely no idea what I'll pay attention to now when I want plural marriage scandals, or gratuitous compound footage. Cheers to you, Big Love. Thanks for keeping Chloe Sevigne away from upsetting movies like Gummo, at least part time.*

*But, did it? Apparently she made a Herzog movie** at the same time.

**I might have to see that.