Werner Herzog
Photograph | Bil Zelman

I spend far too much of my time walking the beach and The Haight.  In fact, in recent months many of the folks who work at Amoeba Records in San Francisco have come to know me and my tastes. Today, I was looking through their blu-ray art film selection. As I was examining a rather suspect used David Lynch blu-ray of ERASERHEAD when one of the Amoeba dudes said, “Yo, man. Did you know that Shout Factory is releasing a blu-ray box set of Werner Herzog film?”  I did know this and the two of us began to chat about Werner Herzog and the upcoming box set of classic movies.

Shout Factory’s Limited Edition of Herzog: The Collection

I adore Herzog’s work and I never pass up an opportunity to read or listen to him. An extremely gifted and unique artist, Herzog is also that rare person who appears to be both intellectual and intelligent. He is also just to the left of sane which always makes for a fascinating perspective on any topic he might drift into. From eating shoes to health clubs, Werner Herzog is always entertaining and informative. The man is a natural storyteller and would seem to have absolutely no fear.  He has also crafted some of the most intriguing films of the 20th Century. Like many film artists of his generation, while he is a cinematic genius — he is also prone to wallowing in his own obsessive interests. Of course, this is a part of a filmmaker’s charm. It can also be something that often drags his work down to the point of tedium and excess.

In my opinion, he is the only filmmaker who ever managed to tango unforgettable and powerful work from Klaus Kinski. He even re-examined their notorious relationship in a strange documentary.

Herzog and Kinski in the middle of one of their infamous on-set battles.

1999’s MY BEST FRIEND is a brilliantly entertaining exploration not only into his dear friend/enemy, Klaus Kinski, but also a revealing self-examination. Whether or not everything he tells us is true or exaggerated is not important. That is all a part of Herzog’s cinematic ride.  This film is included in the massive Shout Factory box set. The only point I would make is that this was not a film that really needed a remaster to hi-def technology. Nor, like many of Herzog’s films, it is something I would imagine watching again. Once was enough. For me, the same can be said of nearly every film he has made.

There are three exceptions:

AGUIRRE, THE WRATH OF GOD – A masterful and stunningly beautiful trip of a movie that I could watch over and over again.

FITZCARRALDO – Once again, a meditative and intense glimpse into obsession and man vs. nature. This I have seen a couple of times. However, it does tend to go a bit too long.

NOSFERATU THE VAMPYRE – Now, this is my personal favorite Herzog film.

I know there will be people who will mention GRIZZLY MAN. And, I completely agree regarding the power and brilliance of that documentary. However, it was upsetting enough the first time I viewed it. I don’t think I’m up for watching that tragedy again. Besides, it is one of the few films missing from the box set.

NOSFERATU THE VAMPYRE is the perfect storm of a Werner Herzog film. Released in 1979, I did see it with my father. I was 13 and I was immediately drawn into the screen, imagery and sounds.

NOSFERATU: The Vampyre
Werner Herzog | 1979
Jörg Schmidt-Reitwein
Cinematography

Despite critical acclaim, I suppose this film was just a bit too “artsy” and surreal to work for the American Box Office at the time. I remember my father bitching that there was no fucking, no nudity and no gore. My twisted father was not happy with it. However, I loved it. At some point in the early 1990’s I was able to catch a screening of this film at The Harvard Film Archive. I was probably about 25 years of age and not only did I still love it — I understood what I was seeing.

Bruno Ganz & Isabelle Adjani gothically walk the shore…

The role of Nosferatu was perfect for Klaus Kinski. Being a rather deluded method actor, Kinski was forced to subdue himself to the movements of the despairing living dead afraid of the sun. Kinski is hypnotic in the role. He is also the creepiest Count the cinema has seen. At once painfully human and an equally reptilian-like monster roaming the dark. Isabelle Adjani is actually more walking dead than Nosferatu but impossibly beautiful in the most disturbing of ways — under Herzog’s command, she is really little more than a gothic porcelain doll waiting to be a victim. And, this was the last time we would see Bruno Ganz still looking kind of hot. Jörg Schmidt-Reitwein captures every movement with incredible light and scope. All the while, Werner Herzog is pushing the limits of his story to create atmosphere and metaphor within the limitless boundaries of his dark imagination and the Art of Cinematic Surrealism.

Adjani, Kinski & Herzog
Delft, The Netherlands
On Set | 1978
Jörg Schmidt-Reitwein
Photograph Credit

Luckily, The Shout Factory, had the insight to know that not all of us would be willing to spend $160.00 for 12 disc set to own one movie. They are issuing NOSFERATU: THE VAMPYRE separate from the box set. It is retailing for $24.99. And, I can’t wait!

Of course, there will be many cinephiles who will rush to secure the full box set. And, who can possibly blame them. Artists like Werner Herzog appeal to those of us who are to the left of center and a bit obsessive. It’s just this isn’t the artist that would drive me to watch his work repeatedly. Now, give me a properly re-mastered box set of Ken Russell, David Lynch, Claire Denis, Luis Buñuel, Claude Chabrol or David Cronenberg — and I will be first in line!

Isabelle Adjani waiting for Mr. Kinski’s bite…

Meanwhile, I have been putting away $5 a week for a month now to reserve my copy. Being unemployed and on Disability is no fun, kids. But this is $25 purchase will be worth it! But I raise my glass of Diet Coke to those of you who will be purchasing the full box set. …Better order now because The Shout Factor is a Boutique Label that does not exaggerate.  It is a limited edition. Word on the street is that they are only pressing one thousand box sets.

Nosferatu coming out of the dark to leave an imprint on your cinematic memory.

Abbas Kiarostami is an Iranian film artist. If you love cinema and are unfamiliar with him or his work, it would be a great idea to check him out. I tend to think of  Kiarostami as a sort of softer and more gentle Michael Haneke. However, the need to categorize people and art is usually to short-change both the artist and the work. Kiarostami is probably best known to us in the West as the writer/director of CERTIFIED COPY (Copie conforme) — both an intelligent and intellectual cinematic puzzle about two people who are either doing some hardcore role-playing or who share a love torn past. The puzzle of that film is never fully resolved. It is left to the audience to draw a conclusion.

In 2012, Kiarostami released a French-Japanese financed experimental film called LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE. It was greeted with critical acclaim but received almost no distribution. This masterful film has found its way to DVD/Blu-Ray via Criterion. I had seen all of his work excepting this film. I should have known better to approach this movie with no expectations, but I did. As I started watching it I was preparing myself for the story of a young prostitute and a hook-up with an old man. This was what I had come to understand regarding the synopsis of LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE.

Rin Takanashi as Akiko

But after the opening scene I found myself being pulled into the film in a rare way.  This entire film is shot on video and Katsumi Yanagijima’s cinematography manages to use this medium as a positive vs. a negative. The entire film has a sort of hypnotic pull. As with Polanski’s ROSEMARY’S BABY, I often found myself turning my head or leaning to the side to try and see more of the picture. This is a very clever cinematic trick.

As I would expect, I was slightly confused at the start. The camera is still. It is, at first, unmoving. The viewer is the camera and we are seated in a cafe of some sort. We hear a frustrated young woman on her cell phone. Characters walk around, toward and in front of us as this conversation continues. The viewer comes to realize that we are actually seeing from the perspective of the character we hear frustratingly chatting on the phone. The character speaking into the phone is Akiko played with stark realism by Rin Takanashi. Her voice and tone are predictable. She sounds like a slight girl. A man works his way toward her. This man has some authority and very little patience with Akiko. The viewer begins to understand that this man is some sort of pimp and no matter her excuses he has arranged for her to meet an important client just outside of Tokyo that evening. The conversation is almost passively muted. When the pimp takes a quiet but firm stand and informs Akiko that she will go and please this important client, the almost quiet atmosphere is shattered by a very angry and adult-sounding female voice declaring that she will not go. I am not quite sure how to articulate it, but the second I heard that voice and the camera perspective shifted to reveal that Akiko has been speaking with purposefully-tuned little girl voice — I knew Kiarostami was about to lead me into a very different story than I was expecting.

Tadashi Okuno as the important client.

There will be no spoilers here. Suffice to say that what often feels like a passive and quiet little film is actually running with a paradoxically aggressive and raging undertone.  And, as we meet the three main characters we begin to think we have each one figured out or “appropriately labeled” — but by the time the film comes to its conclusion we realize we never really fully knew much about any of them. This, of course, is the power of LIKE SOMEONE IN LOVE. There is so much more going on than we realize as it is going. Once again, Kiarostami has crafted another sort of cultural puzzle. And, I do not mean that this film is a study of Japanese culture. It is not.

Ryō Kase gives yet another memorable turn as the boyfriend.

This is an almost sociological study of the human condition and factors that can often lead us to something unexpected. In fact, both the “john” and the prostitute have ties to the study of Sociology. The competition between this film’s passive tone/pace and its aggressive underlying tension is deceptive. As the credits rolled I was absolutely floored by how surprised I felt. I found myself retracing the steps of the film in my mind and began to think of the minor clues we were given by the actions of each character. While some of the actions were obvious — such as the angry, suspicious jealousy of  Akiko’s boyfriend played with the charismatic skill for which Ryō Kase is quickly becoming known — in hindsight it was the smaller gestures and comments that really factor in as clues to where the filmmaker leads us.

Watching her sleep…

Lending her a helping hand…

Confronting her…

In the end, this is an exceptional experimental bit of film art that is an interestingly passive and profoundly disturbing glimpse into humanity. Once again, Abbas Kiarostami has created a potent and unforgettable cinematic work.

“…Sometimes the things I do astound me, mostly whenever you’re around me…” — Ella Fitzgerald

This is a movie you will want to watch carefully. You don’t want to stumble over things or miss out noticing something. I mean, you don’t want to watch this film like someone in love.

As the digital age is allowing anyone with a camera to be a “filmmaker” it is becoming more challenging for true film artists to find ways to get their work seen. This has required many talented filmmakers to pursue the more audience-friendly genres of horror, rom-com and the most dangerous choice of coming of age chronicles.The restrictions of user-friendly movie genres seems not only an unlikely prospect but an impossible option for the filmmaker who emerges from this quiet but revelatory movie. The challenge that Brandon Colvin ran into was a clear way to get the film screened.  Largely by sheer creative will and a year’s worth of fellow filmmaker’s commentary, Sabbatical has finely found its path to audience.

Sabbatical, 2014. A film by Brandon Colvin. Poster Design by Jenni Dickens

The plot is deceptively simple: A college professor takes a sabbatical to return to his childhood home less to focus on a new book and far more to provide assistance to his fragile mother who recently suffered a stroke. When he returns his forced to figure out how to “re-connect” not only to his family, former lover and friends but to the very core of his identity.

Robert Longstreet as Ben in Sabbatical

The important cinematic elements here have little to do with the actual “story” but far more within the way Brandon Colvin so brilliantly “tells” it. This challenging aspect of Colvin’s film is what makes it so very important. Not to deny the emotional power the film carries, but this is really more of an intensely effective study in Formalist Film Theory and Philosophy than a movie concerned with narrative. Colvin makes masterful use of Aaron Granat’s exceptional cinematography, set design, colors, pacing and literal perspective to communicate the complexities of universal human challenges. Colvin clearly has a visionary eye, but he has aligned himself with a group of deeply gifted artist. Tony Oswald’s work as the film’s editor is in perfect tandem with the filmmaker’s devotion to presenting emotion, tone and though a pace with true purpose.

Kentucker Audley, Rebecca Koon and Robert Longstreet at dinner. Eric Enstrom’s Grace painting looming over their attempt at connection. In Brandon Colvin’s Sabbatical.

Despite his shoestring budget, he has made an extraordinary and masterful work. His cast seems not to only understand the rigid framework in which they most perform but nothing feels labored in performances that often edge close to an almost Avant-Garde minimal approach. Robert Longstreet is one of the most under-valued actors working in film. He is able to convey more with the most casual use of his physicality and tone of voice better than most of the highly regarded film actors of the day. Rebecca Koon, Kentucker Audley and Thomas Jay Ryan are all exceptional in their abilities to fit into Colvin’s vision with ease. But it is Rhoda Griffis who is given the most challenging role as Ben’s former lover. Like Longstreet she has the presence and charisma of movie star. Most importantly, she finds a way to firmly establish her character who functions not only as our protagonist’s erotic desire, but also the only person he encounters who is actually trying to connect with him. She becomes a sort of Existential Mirror for Ben.

Rhoda Griffis, Kentucker Audley and the amazing Robert Longstreet in Sabbatical.

In one of the film’s most important scenes, Griffis reads a bit of Ben’s writing aloud. It is as much the manner in which she uses her voice with a weary sort of challenge as it is the content of the writing that we know she sees through Ben’s Kierkegaard/Nietzschean posing. But,that does not change the fact that Colvin has crafted a film the cinephiles and philosophy lovers will savor from beginning to end. While SABBATICAL is clearly a cinematically referential film — every one from Bresson and Bergman to the more obscure stylings of Jost and Hollis Frampton immediately came to my mind — It is crucial to point out that Brandon Colvin is not mimicking, stealing or even borrowing from these great artists’ work. The concept of the other artists’ work serves merely as jumping point to create a stylistic exploration that is completely unique. And, the though provoking use of the word, “sabbatical” consistently caused the viewer to re-evaluate what it really means. Is Ben’s return a break to grow? To focus on work? To help his mother? To reconnect to his past? Or, is this a sort of cease? And, if this is a ceasing — is it achieving identity-related conclusion. Or is Ben actually stopping? If so, what does that imply?

Rebecca Koon as Elizabeth in Sabbatical

There is no hand-holding for the audience here. This is a challenging film art. It thrills me to discover an American Independent Filmmaker who is not only talented enough but brave enough to create a film like SABBATICAL. We don’t often have the objectivity and ability to fully evaluate the future impact of a movie. But I am fairly certain that Brandon Colvin has made a film the comes as close to being a cinematic masterpiece. The last times I can remember feeling I was seeing a movie this unique was when I snuck into a screening of RAGING BULL and a few years later accidentally stepped into a screening of BLUE VELVET. This film has no connection to those two iconic movies other than it carries just as much innovation and unsettling power in surprising new ways.

Thomas Jay Ryan and Robert Longstreet as two friends uncomfortably re-connect in Sabbatical

All the more impressive, Brando Colvin achieves with a micro budget and within 72 minutes what very few filmmakers manage even with $400,000,000, 3 hours and our culture’s bland A List movie stars. As SABBATICAL reaches conclusion, the potency of what has been so artistically presented comes to the audience like breath of new air. A few hours later, I realized that Colvin had managed to do more the deliver a potent movie — he had gut-punched me so quickly that I didn’t  feel the pain until a few hours later. SABBATICAL is a film so clever and intelligent it demands your attention. Unforgettable.

Robert Longstreet in Brandon Colvin’s Sabbatical

For more insight, and viewing options please follow the link below.

http://sabbatical-mossgarden.com

The first time I noticed Josephine Decker was when she appeared as an actor in Joe Swanberg’s 2011 film, Uncle Kent.  It is a great film and it gained a great deal as soon as Decker walked into Swanberg’s frame. Realistic, casually beautiful and charismatic — Josephine Decker made an impression.

Artist, Josephine Decker. Image from project for The School of Making and Thinking with Adriana Disman

It didn’t take me long to discover her first documentary feature, 2008’s Bi the Way (co-directed with Brittany Blockman) and her solo documentary, 2010’s Squeezebox.  She went on to act in two more Swanberg projects in 2011. Not to mention that she also created a video for Charlie Hewson’s song, Where Are You Going, Elena? which incorporated animation by Matt Monson. But it was in her 2012’s Me the Terrible short, that seems to have actually begin to find her unique cinematic voice.

Me the Terrible by Josephine Decker, 2012. A determined little girl pirate sets out to conquer NYC!

When I first saw Josephine Decker’s first feature length film, 2013’s Butter on the Latch, it wasn’t just revelatory — it was a metaphorically saturating adventure from which presented me with a challenge to reorient myself to step out of the theater and back into the remainder of the day. Emerging out of a sort of dazed state and gradually regaining my grounding, this potent film gave me more than a fair share of food for thought. It haunted me. It would take another viewing — this time on a big screen television — before I could allow myself to grasp what Butter on the Latch was actually about. That statement is not intended to be taken as a negative, but a very positive statement regarding a layered and challenging example of Film Art at it’s most experimental. Over a year later I had the opportunity to see her next film and my initial opinion of this filmmaker’s work felt validated.

Josephine Decker’s two films are more of a “cinematic experience” than simply getting lost in a movie’s narrative or style. Once these two films start, you have no choice but to enter Decker’s worlds. I find both films to be equally hypnotic in their ability to pull me in.

Sarah Small and Isolde Chae-Lawrence following the calls of music and lore in Butter on the Latch. Josephine Decker, 2013 Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Josephine Decker’s Butter on the Latch offers a unique perspective regarding the ways society, culture, folklore, music, dance, singing, desire and creativity impact not only a friendship but the formation of identity. It would be far too easy to call the film an adventure into the psyche of friendship or an emotional break. I also find comparisons of her work to that of David Lynch almost offensive. Thanks to what appears to be an artistically shared aesthetic with her cinematographer, Ashley Connor, Decker skillfully creates a world that sometimes looks and seems “real” — but is ultimately shifted into a disarmingly “unreal” space.

Butter on the Latch, Josephine Decker: 2013 Cinematography: Ashley Connor

For me, the plot of Butter on the Latch is secondary to the way Decker constructs the world in which it evolves. For a film that runs under 80 minutes in length, the movie itself feels far shorter.  That is a rare occurrence. In the last decade or so we have seen average film lengths span far longer than necessary. Challenging and artistic cinematic work normally requires patience from the audience. Josephine Decker’s film is never rushed or slow in pace. Intensity and intimacy are so cleverly fueled throughout the movie that she is often able to slow the pace without the audience noticing. Within only a few minutes, Butter on the Latch drops us into what is clearly NYC. Or, more probably Brooklyn. It is within those first few moments that a cleverly edited one-sided cell phone call conversation morphs this artistically thriving and socially active city into a sexually menacing and dangerously intense space. Then, without warning, we find ourselves on the road in what is clearly The Bay Area of Northern California.

Sarah Small walking into the familiar but losing the trail into the unknown aspects of nature and human connection. Butter on the Latch, Josephine Decker, 2013. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Although it is never clearly stated, it is clear from Decker’s use of POV that we are joining our protagonist into a beautiful space of a folk culture inspired festival and workshops. And while it is clear our two main characters are reuniting within the context of a communal event. This is a gathering to celebrate Balkan culture and folklore in what I suspect is the Mendocino Folklore Camp. Any known perceptions of this community are quickly challenged. Decker’s use of folklore, storytelling, ancient music and dance fuel the film forward into a world of dread and ever present threat that is hiding just a bit further into the woods of this mystical world.

Sarah Small and Isolde Chae-Lawrence following the calls of music and lore in Butter on the Latch. Josephine Decker, 2013 Cinematography | Ashley Connor

When Sarah asks her friend, “Why aren’t you giving me any specifics?” — Isolde seems to either side-step or dismiss this question in a manner that simultaneously feels realistic and passively annoyed. There is a consistently odd mix of concern and indifference that puts not only Sarah, but us in the uncomfortable position of having to cautiously trust Isolde. As Sarah and Isolde attempt to re-connect Isolde shares a recent massage experience that is filled with erotic pleasure but veers so far into male domination / manipulation of Isolde’s body that her reason for sharing her experience almost seems that she is trying to eroticize a sexual violation. All the more alarming, she gives Sarah the name of the “masseur” and urges Sarah to seek the same experience.

“Oh, you know that place…”
Sarah Small and Isolde Chae-Lawrence in Josephine Decker’s Butter on the Latch, 2013. Cinematography | Ashley Connor.

This brief interaction of two young women chatting feels “realistic” but loaded with subversive intent.  These two women appear to be fully empowered and sexually confident, but it is here that Decker’s film  twists conventional ideas around “girl’s talk” to pull us into an ever-growing threat of predatory dangers.

“What is that drink called again?” Isolde Chae-Lawrence drinks it all down in Josephine Decker’s Butter on the Latch, 2013. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Decker’s masterful manipulation of surroundings of nature, music, dance, and Connor’s stunning cinematography in the editing process creates a tone that refuses to become official “Surreal” but is powerfully disorienting.  Josephine Decker creates a very specific world in order to pull us into a reworking of Balkan folklore. The actual shifting point comes quite early as both friends enter an almost hallucinatory state of drunken confusion. While it appears to a be shared journey into an ancient culture and self-awareness is largely Sarah’s lonely trek into unknown realms of nature and female humanity.

“I don’t know where we’re going.” Josephine Decker’s Butter on the Latch, 2013. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

The deeper Sarah steps into understanding and mastering the Balkan manner of chanting and music to express the culture’s ancient folklore as a tool of connection to the past to form a shared experience in the present — the more feelings of desire, loneliness and isolation seem to mount. What is initially so beautiful is deconstructing into something laced with intensely with madness.

The menace of dark magik and madness are hiding the woods of Mendocino. Butter on the Latch, Josephine Decker, 2013. Cinematography | Ashely Connor

Sarah reads an example of Balkan Folklore about a young maiden who is stolen away by a dragon. To escape the dragon, the beautiful maiden concocts a magical potion which will force the powerful dragon into a deep sleep so that she can escape. It is read in a relaxed way with Sarah pointing to the charm of ancient stories. Isolde seems to be slipping into a deep slumber herself and mutters this will be her bedtime story. Later, a good-looking and gentle musician is spotted by Isolde. Sarah takes notice and is immediately attracted to him. Isolde dismisses the man’s appearance and conduct. Isolde appears to be upset, but fails to communicate it. Instead they both drink excessively. The two friends lose their way back to their cabin. Isolde seems to become more than frustrated with Sarah. Blaming her for getting them lost, she storms away into the darkness. Is Isolde angry because she is interested in a man? Or, is she angry because she blames Sarah for getting them lost? Is it jealousy? Is it frustration? Or, is Sarah just confused?  It is a point that is never really fully understood. But Sarah wakes the next morning in a panic. She seems to scramble to flee the cabin. It almost feels as if she is running away from something. After calming down, Sarah begins to proactively pursue the man, the tension mounts over the relationship between the two women. Or, does it?

Isolde Chae-Lawrence and Sarah Small in Butter on the Latch, Josephine Decker , 2013
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Sarah Small and Charlie Hewson flirt in Josephine Decker’s Butter on the Latch, 2013. Cinematography | Ashley Connor.

Butter on the Latch
Josephine Decker, 2013
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

As tensions mount and Sarah’s advances toward the musician are reciprocated, Sarah’s perceptions start to become less trustworthy. There is a vague sense that she feels she is being pursued by something in the woods. Is it a dragon? Is it Isolde? Is it madness waiting out there? Has Sarah lost the ability to perceive the difference between reality and fantasy? Is she dealing with some sort of disorder? Fantasy Prone Personality, perhaps? Or is her paranoia real? Or is she simply worn out and lost in the mystical beauty of music and folklore?

Sarah Small and Charlie Hewson at the lake. Butter on the Latch, Josephine Decker, 2013 Cinematography: Ashley Connor

When Sarah and the musician disrobe, the truly beautiful eroticism they start to share becomes foggy and takes a disturbing turn.  Sarah senses the presence of the threatening menace hiding just beyond her view in the trees. The film arrives to a disturbing conclusion that is vague. It is also a conclusion which is surprisingly satisfyingly. This is cinematic magic.

“What is that? Did you hear that?” Sarah Small in Butter on the Latch, Josephine Decker, 2013. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

 Butter on the Latch is distinctively unique from every perspective. Most importantly, it is a fascinating experience that should not be missed. As good as it is, Josephine Decker’s evolution as a filmmaker progresses to a whole other level with her second feature length film, Thou Wast Mild and Lovely.

Thou Wast Mild and Lovely, Josephine Decker, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

It is almost impossible to imagine the the budget for her second film was just over $18,000.00. There is nothing about Mild and Lovely that looks “micro-budget” — it has the polish and glow of major studio production. Any comparisons to major studio films ends there. Though Josephine Decker has stated that Steinbeck’s East of Eden influenced several elements of the movie, other critics have compared it to Flannery O’Connor and Terrence Malick. And of course, the sad state of Film Criticism / Film Theory that automatically point to David Lynch at the slightest hint of “something weird” or “stylistically perverse” — an over-used comparison. It is usually an incorrect comparison. I think it is particularly incorrect to compare this film to David Lynch. To be honest, I can only grasp a little bit in Mild and Lovely that might have been inspired by Steinbeck. If you were to pin me in a corner and demand a comparison, the only comparisons that might be valid would be Louis Malle’s Black Moon — a sluggish but lushly experiment in Surrealism as a statement of political unrest. Or maybe some elements employed by Roman Polanski in his adaptation of Roland Topor’s The Tenant. But this constant need to compare one artist to another is usually pointless. It is especially pointless in the case of Decker’s Thou Wast Mild and Lovely.

Sophie Traub is Sarah in Josephine Decker’s Thou Wast Mild and Lovely. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

One should not forget to remember that this film was made by a female artist and is largely concerned with a female character who serves as a sort of narrator throughout the movie. Josephine Decker continues her exploration of ideas nature and the role it plays in the ways humanity connects to form identity, family, lovers, community and often form into subcultures that oppose the way culture/society tries to pre-determine.  Once again, Josephine Decker displays an extraordinary way of taking the familiar and bends it all into something we have never seen before. Decker employees Ashley Connor’s beautifully lush off-kilter camera work along with unexpected POV’s, editing, sound and the fascinating charisma of her actors to form a more conventionally structured narrative than she presented in Butter on the Latch.

Decker has secured a group of more professionally skilled actors. While Sophie Traub is the least known actor involved, her performance is an exceptional display of technique. This actor knows what she is doing and brings Decker’s dialogue to life. Many of Sarah’s lines and actions could easily lead an actor toward cliche and even “camp” — Traub is so invested in her role that the deep-rooted sadness and damage find their way into every movement and glance. It is a nuanced portrait of an intelligent but stunted woman. Joe Swanberg, a visionary Independent Filmmaker and a capable actor succeeds in capturing a seemingly beaten-down and depressed man. He seems to want to hide not only the truth of his life, but his sexual impulses. Swanberg’s Akin is brooding a mixture of desire and violence that serves as an uncomfortable threat to both of the other characters.

Joe Swanberg in Thou Wast Mild and Lovely. Josephine Decker,2014. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

But viewer beware: there is nothing “conventional” about this film. But the most potent actor here is Robert Longstreet. Longstreet carries a great deal of “cred” within the Independent Filmmaking scene. His talent, abilities and charisma can’t be beat. As Jeremiah he presents an unsettling and often horrific performance. We are never fully allowed access the secret that bonds him so closely to Sarah, but thanks to Longstreet’s mix of amiable redneck and a consistently cruel tension — we know that the secret must be horrific. And, it is most likely still alive under the barn. Decker is joined by both David Barker and Steven Schardt as co-editors and the film’s pace and perspectives are even more effective here than in Butter on the Latch.

“My lover knows how to love me. But things kept getting in the way.” Josephine Decker’s Thou Wast Mild and Lovely, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Thou Wast Mild and Lovely is a fresh and constantly innovative take on the Modernist idea of American Gothic. Firmly rooted in Art Horror genre, there is a great deal more here than meets the eye or the expectations related to both of these styles. The film is structured by ever changing visual perspectives — often we see this world reflected from the perspective of animals on the farm. The world of this American farm is lensed from perspectives of  a goat, other times a dog or hog take over to provide our restricted view into the intimacies of the humans who are working and living within the confines of this world.

Josephine Decker’s Thou Wast Mild and Lovely, 2014. Cinematography | Ashley Connor

The other narrative device Decker provides is Sarah’s voice reading her poetry. Sarah’s writing is fixated on her ideal lover. Cryptic and romantic, her free form poem carries us throughout the story. And once again, a familiar type of construction that becomes more insightful as we move forward. Sarah offers clues into not only her desires, but into her fractured view of her world. In many ways, she is still a child. But her sexual desires for Akin is almost boiling over. It is due to her stunted emotional development that she is often unaware of the way she presents herself to Akin. Like a child, she often appears to not understand when she exposes something sexual because one suspects no one has ever been there to guide her.

Dreams of Akin in Josephine Decker’s Thou Wast Mild and Lovely, 2014
Photography | Ashley Connor

Prepping the lettuce. Thou Wast Mild and Lovely, Josephine Decker, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

In one of the film’s most disturbing moments, Sarah attempts to seduce Akin. Her mode of seduction is almost as unsettling as where it leads. Covered in mud and sweat, she pursues the opportunity to catch a frog after Akin admits to having a deep dislike of reptiles.

“Bad Froggie!” Sophie Traub in Thou Wast Mild and Lovely. Josephine Decker, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Owen

She plays with the frog in a childlike-sexual manner and without any warning she gleefully resorts to animal cruelty in hopes of attracting Akin. Just as unexpected, Akin does respond. But this is not lust or desire, this is rape. Akin assaults Sarah with cruel force. But the response of  his sexual violence appears to disappoint Akin as much as it unsettles the audience.

Perverse Seduction.
Thou Wast Mild and Lovely
Josephine Decker
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Brutal Response.
Thou Wast Mild and Lovely
Josephine Decker, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Sarah’s perception of sex is either learned from the animalistic nature she has seen on Jeremiah’s farm or is alarming masochistic based on whatever secret has bound her to Jeremiah. While Sarah freely calls Jeremiah “Daddy” — it doesn’t take him long to inform Akin that he is not her father. Their are moments of what appears to be love between Jeremiah and Sarah, but never without an underlying tone of danger and doom.

Robert Longstreet and Sophie Traub in Thou Wast Mild and Lovely. Josephine Decker, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

Just as soon as you suspect you might have determined the ingredients of Josephine Deckers oddly beautiful but phantasmagorical brewing stew of human tragedy, she creatively throws us off-course. The truth of what may or may not be waiting beneath the barn remains unknown.

Thou Wast Mild & Lovely
Josephine Decker, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

This is film so comfortably committed to itself, it offers no easy “out” or clear conclusion. Its power will haunt you long after you experience it.

Joe Swanberg in Josephine Decker’s Thou Wast Mild and Lovely, 2014
Cinematography | Ashley Connor

The buttons have been pushed and the envelope has fallen off the desk, but it is impossible to look away or dismiss Thou Wast Wild and Lovely. Josephine Decker has crafted a world that pulls you in and holds you tight until the credits roll. The one thing that you can be sure of — there is no room for a “neutral” response to this film art. One will either love or hate it. I loved it.

Filmmaker Josephine Decker exploring the senses. Photograph | Adriana Disman from The School of Making and Thinking.

I can’t wait to see what world she creates next.

When does art go too far?

Monica Bellucci embarks on short walk to savage and misogynistic human cruelty in Gaspar Noé’s Irréversible, 2002. Cinematography | Benoît Debie & Gaspar Noé

We all know that the debate regarding when works of art become “inappropriate” or “unacceptable” is not new.  Most of us jump up to fight censorship and the right of the artist to express his or her “self” in any manner their vision requires. And most of us would equally agree that each individual is free to critique or express their disgust with anything the artist creates. These are two key rights of the audience and the artist.

Christians protest outside the Ziegfeld Theater against the screening and attendance of The Last Temptation of Christ, Martin Scorsese, 1988 outside the Ziegfeld Theater, NYC, 1988 Photograph by Barbara Alper/Getty Images

When we see an organization pull its resources in an attempt to block an artist’s work many of us pull together in protest. I proudly remember skipping school so I could drive to Houston and cross through the mob of protestors to pay and see The Last Temptation of Christ. For the two of us, it was essential to protect that core belief of free speech. The level of Baptist and Pentecostal anger was more than a little scary, but me and my pal were very proud to support the movie. We went on opening day. Good thing we did. Nearly all the cinemas located in Southeast Texas pulled the movie with the first 4 days of screenings. Those angry Christians (very few of whom I think ever bothered to read the book or see the movie) succeeded in shutting the movie down in The Bible Belt.

To protest a work of art is very different than prevent it from being displayed or shown. It is a never ending conflict that artists will always face. The rights of artists and the audience must be protected.

Brooke Shields was 12 when she appeared nude and played a child prostitute in Louis Malle’s 1978 film, Pretty Baby. Cinematography | Sven Nykvist

But it is the rare individual who can honestly state that she/he has never felt the need to scream out from the highest mountain, “This is wrong! This must be stopped! This is inappropriate!” For me, any work that is created to or even unintentionally stirs up hate against marginalized people compels me to draw the line. Unless the artists’ hatred is aimed at Hitler or The Manson Family or any segment of society that I feel intrudes on the rights of another. Then, I’ll support that hate full tilt. Another area which I refuse to accept is art that sexually exploits children.

Or work that misuses violence. For me, there is a difference in using violence as method for exploring human psychology, history, realism or even as way to access horror. It is when violence is utilized in a manner of titillation instead of provocation that it goes too far for me. And nothing angers me more when I see a work of art that uses violence against children or women for no other reason but to shock us.

Many people were unaware that they were objects of satire and many were not paid. Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, Larry Charles, 2006. Cinematography | Luke Geissbuhler & Anthony Hardwick

Ultimately the basic guidelines for unacceptable art is art in which anyone is actually harmed, any inappropriate exposure of people under the age of 18 or anytime that an individual is pushed into any level of cruel depiction without consent.

Now a true ethical dilemma for me is when I fail to apply my own guidelines. Because whether I like to admit it or not — there have been more than a few films that slip into some very murky ethical waters. And, I must confess that some of them I found myself not only supporting, but enjoyed. The two films represented by their major studio poster campaigns above are films that I like — both crossed my personal ethical lines or standards. 

But often I do fuel my ethical concern into logical critiques or I simply refuse to give money to offensive work.  What pushes us to create that sort of critique or hide our wallets varies. Such was my reaction by the time Takashi Miike’s Visitor Q reaches about the ten minute mark. I demand a full refund of my ticket and left the cinema.

Familial dysfunction has never been depicted with such de-tached cruelty and satire becomes inverted in Takashi Miike’s addition to Japan’s “love cinema”, Visitor Q, 2001. Videography | Hideo Yamamoto

Yet it is hard not to catch some smart film references in this twisted chapter of the Japan banned series of Direct to Video series called “Love Cinema” — This movie enjoyed some praise in the US while on the festival circuit. Visitor Q remains a cult classic for many. Just for the record, I’m not one of them. In 1999 Miike created Audition. There were more than a few times I found myself feeling I should leave, but the interesting twists in tone, artistry and sheer audacity were far too interesting for me to dismiss. My guidelines shifted for this movie.

“Kiri kiri kiri kiri kiri!” Children, women and men are all tortured to extremes so over-the-top it becomes surreal in Audition. Takashi Miike, 1999. Cinematography | Hideo Yamamoto

Takashi Miike’s Audition utilizes torture and gore as not only as an “attraction” to horror film fans but a clever metaphorical tool to explore his lead character’s inner-most fears of women, grief and sexuality. It took me several years before I was comfortable in recommending it to friends and discussing the idea of securing Takashi Miike as a festival guest. The festival’s board admitted to the artistry involved in much of Miike’s work, but they were equally offended by it as well. To be honest, I never found a way to defend my opinions of many of his films.

But very few films have ever made me as uncomfortable and repulsed as Gaspar Noé’s experimental film, Irréversible.

“Take the underpass. It’s safer.” Irréversible, Gaspar Noé, 2002. Cinematography | Benoît Debie & Gaspar Noé

The film’s narrative deconstruction, cinematography and acting were so polished and unique. I have never worked out how I feel about Gaspar Noé’s depiction of his lead female character’s suffering at the hands of a rapist. The line between valid depiction and grotesque exploitation is not just blurry — it appears to have been erased. Did Noé go too far or did he go just far enough to capture the all-too-real horror that seems to be ever lurking for women? I do not have an answer.

Irréversible was one of many French Films which began to emerge as we entered the 21st Century. Prior to Irréversible, Gaspar Noé shot I Stand Alone. This was another deeply disturbing film which follows an emotionally damaged horse butcher as he contemplates the misery of his life, his threatening visceral cultural rage, suicide and his uncontrollable sexual desire for his daughter. …who happens to be living in a sort of insane asylum. Aside from being grimly nihilistic, I Stand Alone also approaches every aspect from a visually graphic perspective. The film was widely praised and Gaspar Noé received The Mercedes-Benz Award at the 1998 Cannes Film Festival. Despite my repulsive reaction I also consider it an important film.

Catherine Deneuve as the somewhat perverse mother in Leos Carax’s experimental re-working of Melville’s “Pierre, or, the Ambiguities”, Pola X, 1998.
Cinematography | Eric Gautier. Deneuve was one of the few actors who did not engage in unsimulated and penetrative sex.

It was these films that also included Catherine Breillat’s Romance, Leos Carax’s Pola X, Coralie Trinh Thi’s Baise-moi, Claire Denis’ Trouble Every Day and Alexandre Aja’s Haute Tension that led then Artforum Critic, James Quandt, to coin the intentionally derogatory term, The New French Extreme. Quandt defined the The New French Extreme in Artforum with a nod to Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1975’s highly polarizing Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom serving as a turning point in Film Art that is only growing more perversely articulated by French film artists who are suddenly “…determined to break every taboo, to wade in rivers of viscera and spumes of sperm, to fill each frame with flesh, nubile or gnarled, and subject it to all manner of penetration, mutilation, and defilement.”

James Quandt and Artforum created a term for French cinema’s graphic focus on the transgressive.

Interestingly, rather than create an aversion toward these filmmakers and their work — he actually ended up drawing more attention to it. And, only a few of the French filmmakers were even vaguely offended by the label. Catherine Breillat was the only film artist I can remember being at all perplexed with Quandt’s label. Catherine Breillat has built a distinguished film career around her obsession with the ways in which sexuality impact an individual’s life. Most often, she pursues psychological and physical sexual themes that are nearly always graphic, perversely cerebral and unsentimental. Her career in the arts started at 17  when she secured a publishing deal for her first novel, Early Man, in 1965. The French Government quickly banned the novel from any readers under the age of 18. Almost immediately as the novel was published it was optioned by two film producers. It would not be until 1976 that the producers had the funds, but Breillat was allowed to adapt her book and to direct it. It is interesting to note that the producers went bankrupt as the movie, A Real Young Girl,  was too controversial to secure a distributor in the late 1970’s. In fact, the French Government banned the film. It would not be until 1999 that the film would be released.  The history of this novel and subsequent movie is an early and accurate summation of her entire career. Breillat’s interests and the manner in which she portrays them are often received with interest, but almost consistently create such controversy that success is somewhat limited. Despite the challenges of making profits, her skill as a filmmaker are indisputable. Catherine Breillat has always followed her vision and made it very clear that the audience will either reject her films or not. So, I remember being surprised that she even bothered to address the appointed label of being a part of The French Extreme. She felt that her work was more aligned to that of David Cronenberg and she suggested that she felt they both made films that fell into the realm of Cinema of the Body.

Of the following three French films only one of them was not considered a part of The French Extreme.

Catherine Breillat’s À ma sœur! was released in 2001. It remains my favorite example of The French Extreme. The title of the movie actually translates as “To My Sister!” but for some inane marketing reason Canal+ assigned it a new title for non-European release. And, so I once again find myself ignoring my guidelines as I enter the world of Fat Girl.

Anaïs Reboux stars as Anaïs Pingot in Fat Girl, Catherine Breillat, 2001
Cinematography | Giorgos Arvanitis

In 2001 I wrote that Fat Girl was a controversial, provocative and potent examination of female adolescence. Without even the slightest hint of empathy or sentiment for her lead character — or any others in the movie — the movie is unflinching in its commitment to perversely turn the film against the audience rather than to provoke the audience against the movie. Breillat seems to be lensing the entire film with a driven by the same adolescently stunted emotional confusion, rage, jealousy and loneliness of the main character, Anaïs Pingot. Adolescence is never easy, but is proving to be even more so for Anaïs. The US/UK/Canadian releases for this film have been changed from To My Sister! to Fat Girl. As inappropriate as this new title is, it is a great example at the way our society views females. Even at the hands of the movie’s distributor poor Anaïs is reduced to being nothing more than a fat girl. She is already judged.

Anaïs Reboux in Fat Girl, Catherine Breillat, 2001
Cinematography | Giorgos Arvanitis

Fat Girl, Catherine Breillat, 2001 Cinematography |

Far more graphic than it needs to be, Canal+ has made it clear that this time out Breillat did not require her actors to have sex. But give the fact that the movie utilizes prosthetic penis hard-on’s and full frontal nudity and graphic simulated sex scenes, it feels real. Breillat films her lead character played by a 13 year old non-actress partially nude and places her in not only sexual situations but in truly disturbing scene of sexual violence.  While it is on many levels inappropriate, it never feels like Breillat is trying to exploit this little girl. It often simply feels tragically real as this young girl is only beginning to seriously contemplate her sexuality and the way her body is actually perceived.

Roxane Mesquida and Anaïs Reboux are sisters at once as one and then next as enemies. Fat Girl, Catherine Breillat, 2001
Cinematography | Giorgos Arvanitis

Her sister is her best friend one minute and her enemy the next. Her parents do not seem to really pay much attention or care about her. One gets the feeling she is evolving into an angry misfit. The movie takes a very blunt and shocking turn in the last few minutes. The audience at the screening I attended sat in silence as the credits began to roll. Some were offended. Some thought the experience was amazing. Several of the people gathered together in the cinema lobby. I attended the film alone. I listened as each person gave their perspective. Everyone seemed a bit disoriented and upset.

“If you don’t want to believe me, then don’t.”
Fat Girl, Catherine Breillat, 2001
Cinematography | Giorgos Arvanitis

When it came to my turn to express my thoughts I could only say that I was certain we had just seen a brilliant bit of cinematic art that is both unforgettable and unforgivable. 14 years later, I still feel the same.

What to do when everything that happens seems to reflect the way you feel? Fat Girl, Catherine Breillat. Cinematography | Giorgos Arvanitis

Whenever someone asks me about this film, I always warn, “It is not for all tastes.”  — I should probably add that this is one of the points of every film Catherine Breillat has ever made. Fat Girl takes no prisoners. She refuses your judgement. She will not break.

Christophe Honoré’s 2004 film, Ma Mere, has also been labeled as an entry into The French Extreme.

Isabelle Huppert as Ma Mere. Christophe Honoré, 2004. Cinematography | Hélène Louvart

It is actually rather surprising that it took so long for Isabelle Huppert to take a role in one of these films. If ever there were a fearless female actor is it Isabelle Huppert. This actor is an essential part of this controversial movie. In many ways, it seems as much her film as it’s director, Christophe Honoré. Unlike Fat Girl, this film never really puts me at odds my guidelines. It does something far worse. It actually fascinates me. Christophe Honoré simplistic aesthetic is often curiously mismatched to Huppert’s nuanced but harsh performance. It is this simplistic and minimalist mode of storytelling merged with a deeply layered performance by Huppert that seems to provide the fuel to both the plot and to the characters. Huppert’s Hélène is a puzzle of a character that is never fully put together to answer questions. But Huppert is somehow able to play this perversely cruel woman with not only a lingering sort of sadness. It is also much to Huppert’s credit that she is able to interpret Honoré’s almost “camp” level dialogue in unsettlingly believable ways.

“The pleasure only begins the moment the worm is in the fruit.” Isabelle Huppert & Louis Garrel in Christophe Honoré’s Ma Mere, 2004. Cinematography | Hélène Louvart

Her son is played by Louis Garrel who manages to keep up with both his director and the iconic actress with whom he shares the screen. We learn that Hélène and her much older husband lost custody of their son and were essentially banished to the Canary Islands because her husband’s wealthy family wanted to keep there lifestyles as far from the family as possible. Though never clearly stated, we quickly learn that subversive and the kink of BDSM is far less about pleasure as it is about punishment. The son is desperate to connect with his mother. Hélène is not so interested in that. Instead, she is hellbent on manipulating his innocence to push him through a constant bombardment of challenges to his mannered way of life. And she does so in an almost ritualistic planned events. So eager to please his mother and also worn down from his grandmother’s Catholic influence he pushes through each challenge until his humanity is completely debased. While Christophe Honoré’s film earned an NC-17, it is actually visually reserved for a film considered as French Extreme.

Dominique Reymond knows far more than she lets on to the son in Ma Mere. Christophe Honoré, 2004
Cinematography | Hélène Louvart

Not that Honoré doesn’t push the envelope on graphic nudity and graphic moments involving domination. But he never really takes the visual to the level of extreme I was expecting. The truly offensive and controversial aspects of this film come from the tone and the manner in which the actors, particularly Huppert, are so genuine in their convictions to hedonism. By the time Honoré actually brings us the mother and son to the final challenge of incest, Hélène chooses to deliver her cruelest to her son. We don’t actually see what the son is doing as he looks at a corpse, it is all the more shocking that we don’t. And as he runs away from the morgue in a state of total panic it almost feels like it is his mother has somehow taken control of the film’s soundtrack.

“Wrong isn’t what we’re about to do. Wrong is wanting to survive it.” Ma Mere. Christophe Honoré, 2004
Cinematography | Hélène Louvart

Suddenly, as this broken son runs all we can hear is “Happy Together” by The Turtles. Much like Leos Carax’s controversial “epic” reworking of Herman Melville’s Pierre, or, the Ambiguities in Pola X, Christophe Honoré has used Georges Bataille’s controversial cultural critique novel, My Mother, as the source for his film — he is far less concerned with providing a cultural / societal commentary as he is in exploring the depravity of a parent and the way it can eventually can pull the child to an even darker level of perversity. And, just as The Turtles hit the last chorus — “...so happy toge-”  Honoré cuts them off mid word and his screen immediately switches to white. Ma Mere ends with a thudding silence that lingers long after it has been viewed.

“This goes to your mother. The Mediterranean bitch.” Isabelle Huppert & One of her Disciples in Ma Mere, Christophe Honoré, 2004
Cinematography | Hélène Louvart

Over the course of the last decade, The French Extreme had de-evoloved to mostly disgusting torture porn. The goal of these films seems to shock the audience with an assault of savage gore.  The original French artists who are most associated with The French Extreme have pretty much all changed gears. Even Catherine Breillat has started to look at other aspects of human life. Her greatest challenge is the fact that she suffered a stroke. But this only seemed to push herself harder to craft a film loosely based on her experiences during and after her stroke.

” I’ve sunk like the Titanic. But if I ever resurface, I’ll be an atomic bomb.” Isabelle Huppert in Abuse of Weakness, Catherine Breillat
Cinematography | Alain Marcoen

Certainly powerful stuff, but not so extreme.

The last film of the genre I saw that displayed incredible skill and intelligence was simultaneously the most unpleasant torture porn I have ever seen. Particularly appalling was the fact that it simply was too well made for me to question it. It was Pascal Laugier’s 2008 Martyrs. Which Hollywood has been trying to re-make in a “less dark way”?!?

“Keep doubting.” Martyrs,
Pascal Laugier, 2008
Cinematography | Stéphane Martin,
Nathalie Moliavko-Visotzky & Bruno Philip

But, that would be a whole other sort of post.

After a decade in a successful career in cinematography, Nicolas Roeg found his way into the director’s chair. This led to a string of unforgettable films that blended his unique camera perspectives with an even more experimental editing to form

“I’m not a scientist. But I know all things begin and end in eternity.” David Bowie reflects in The Man Who Fell To Earth, Nicolas Roeg, 1976.
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

much more than cinematic stories. Nicolas Roeg used cinematography, editing and obsessions to form film art that seeps into the senses that often lift the viewer into an experience that is more than unforgettable. Roeg’s cinematic voice reaches almost hypnotic levels. He creates atmosphere, tension, eroticism and human introspection that calls us to revisit his films.

“This one who’s blind. She’s the one that can see.” Hilary Mason’s character may be blind, but she is the only character who can actually ‘see’ in Don’t Look Now, Nicolas Roeg, 1973.
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

With each revisit, the viewer discovers new aspects, ideas and meanings. Roeg quickly established a strong connection with both Cinematographer, Anthony B. Richmond and Film Editor, Graeme CliffordIn early on. Eventually, he would also establish a new film editing connection with Tony Lawson. These “connections” ran deep. In Roeg’s hands, filmmaking is no longer reduced to “orchestrated collaboration” “craft” or “storytelling” — Roeg’s cinematic work takes these fundamental concepts related to movie making to the level of true Film Art.

Art Garfunkel and Theresa Russells’ “terrifying obsession took them to the brink of death and beyond.” Bad Timing, Nicolas Roeg, 1980.
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Tony Lawson

It is more than a complex collaboration between the filmmaker and his/her cinematography and editor, in Nicolas Roeg’s work — it is clear that their is more than a shared aesthetic, the intermingling of all three aspects of filmmaking feel to be forming together in a genetic sort of alchemy. This is the magic of Pure Cinema.

The influence of Nicolas Roeg is undeniable. He has inspired far too many filmmakers to list. And, if one did comprise a list it would reflect a wide range of cinematic visionaries. Ridley Scott, Danny Boyle and François Ozon are just a few notably varied filmmakers who have listed Roeg as a strong influence.

It is often the most seemingly surprisingly magnified small detail that means so much. Candy Clark pours a drink. “You know Tommy, you’re a freak. I don’t mean that unkindly…” with questionable intent in The Man Who Fell To Earth, Nicolas Roeg, 1976.
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

It is also important to note that Nicolas Roeg has never taken the stance of “Film Artiste”  — Despite the complexities of what one discovers in his films, he has consistently dismissed the idea that he has ever pursued a film with one sole purpose. Instead, he will often shrug off aspects of his work as “accidental” or “luck” — And further to the point, Roeg claims to have never set out to rebel against fixed ideas of what cinema should be. He has always expressed how important his early work as a part of a camera unit or cinematographer were essential so the he could gain the essential knowledge of film craftsmanship. He once was quoted, “The rules are learnt in order to be broken, but if you don’t know them, then something is missing.”

“The churches belong to God, but he doesn’t seem to care about them.” Don’t Look Now, Nicolas Roeg, 1973
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

The use of sound and image do not always match in Nicolas Roeg’s cinematic world. What we are “allowed” to see is not always what we think we “want” to see. Mirrors and all aspects of reflection begin to take on added significance as these films move forward. The use of mirrors serves as far more than presenting an interesting thought — they are the tools that these characters discover everything insights into existentialism, desire, fear, vanity, gender roles and identity. The reflection of mirrors and glass have a similar impact on the audience but with added psychological dimensions that are inaccessible to the characters.

““I’ve used mirrors in a lot of movies. I think the mirror is an extraordinary thing, also the reflective, a reflection in water etc. Don’t you think it’s something strange that you rarely look at yourself in the mirror, except to do things like stand and ponder? ” Nicolas Roeg on the use of mirrors in his films. Here, James Fox, is forced to not only re-evaluate his identity but his gender in Performance, Nicolas Roeg & Donald Cammell, 1970
Cinematography | Nicolas Roeg

Like many great artists, Nicolas Roeg is sometimes so ahead of the audience that a film may fail to connect. This was the case with the controversial study of sexual desire turned to obsessions that potentially lead to insanity or something far worse. Largely dismissed when it was released, it has since gained much more success with audiences as time has passed.

Bad Timing, Nicolas Roeg, 1980
Cinematographer | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Tony Lawson

Roeg’s interests in how men and women connect sexually often become a core element found in every film. In Bad Timing he allowed his and the characters’ obsessions to overflow with a level of intensity that often resulted in confused responses. Seven years earlier, in Don’t Look Now, he created an almost uncomfortably level of erotic intimacy between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland that so shocked audiences that it is still a matter of discussion when the film is screened. The reality of sexuality becomes heightened to the abnormal in Bad Timing, but sexuality is used in a casually realistic way in Don’t Look Now.

Julie Christie and Donald Sutherlands’ characters infamously make love and cause Movie Rumor that remains today in Don’t Look Now, Nicolas Roeg, 1973
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

Viewers in 1980 seemed to have had a difficult time finding “reality” in the sex of Bad Timing. But well over 30 years later, the infamous sex scene in Don’t Look Now “feels” so real that many insist on believing that Sutherland and Christy were actually engaging in penetrative sex. The magical use of sex in Don’t Look Now is that it slowly dawns on the audience that this graphic display of sexual connection is not used for titaliation, but to capture the all too human need to connect to his/her lover in times of grief. It is a reconnection that almost helps this marriage in crisis pull itself out of disaster. Well, almost.

Another aspect of Roeg’s approach to his films that is rather thrilling is the ever present use of Surrealism. But it is the almost casual way in which surrealism mixes in with blunt realism. A level of disorientation flows off the screen because while we think we know that some of what we are seeing is “surreal” — it could almost as easy be called “real”

The Man Who Fell To Earth is a great example of film which refuses to ground itself into any conventional genre: Is it satire? Or is it an oddly ‘realistic’ Sci-Fi? Maybe it is dark humored metaphorical study of humankind? Is it surrealism? Is it about owning our identity no matter how our society tries to suppress us?

The Man Who Fell To Earth, Nicolas Roeg, 1976
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

What is real and what is often tangible but not easily labeled is often the most important aspect of our journey. Nicolas Roeg once noted, “I love that perhaps we don’t see the things that are there because we have no reliable yardstick to see things by, to compare them.”

Pass the warning…
Don’t Look Now
Nicolas Roeg, 1973
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

Over the last several years I have had the pleasure of spending a great deal of time with Don’t Look Now. As it made its way from the muddy VHS transfer to an improved but still lacking quality when it was released on DVD in both the US/UK to the beautifully restored version issued to blu-ray/DVD by the magic-makers at Criterion. I’ve needed to watch this film a number of times for various reasons. I’ve lost count of how many times I have seen it in the last three years. But every time I watch it, I notice something new. Never have I seen a film so disturbingly horrific turn itself into something of altogether different that can only be termed as “Human” beauty.

“One of your children has posed a curious question: if the world is round, why is a frozen lake flat?” The answer to his daughter’s question is far more complex than Donald Sutherland can fully grasp. He fights against his instincts in Don’t Look Now, Nicolas Roeg, 1973
Cinematography | Anthony B. Richmond
Film Editor | Graeme Clifford

Don’t Look Now takes us to a Venice steeped in decay, sadness and uncertain dangers. We are led through a series of seemingly endless loop of dark tunnels. We pass over aged bridges in a fog of mystery. Hope can become deadly. Grief can become a release. Like life, nothing is at it appears.

If you’ve ever had the pleasure of listening to Nicolas Roeg speak, you will note a highly intelligent and genuine man. It is impossible to miss the fact that he is so filled with ideas that he tends talk in meandering and circular sentences. The newly released Criterion edition of Don’t Look Now features a discussion filmed in 2003 at London’s Ciné Lumière. It is an entertaining discussion and, in some ways, a revealing way in which Roeg not only communicates — but how he thinks.

And, this, to me, adds insight into the way he views film editing. There is not so much concern with editing a film in a linear or altogether logical way — because when we really think about it — Our minds are constantly racing through ideas, memories, feelings, emotions, worries and ever spinning topics as we navigate through ever part of our day.

Don’t Look Now
Nicolas Roeg, 1973
gets the Criterion treatment. Now available on DVD/Blu-Ray

Nicolas Roeg’s movies strive to capture worlds through the lens of the human mind’s perspective. Our mind never fully allows our eyes, ears and senses to fully focus on one thing. Instead, our minds take in everything at once and while we are largely successful at deciphering our experience of the world and the situations we experience. It is only long after something has happened that we have the opportunity to “process’ an event. This is perhaps the strongest element to be found in the way Nicolas Roeg often transcends the normally anticipated scope of a movie.

I recently discovered a website called The TalkHouse which features brilliantly insightful writing and articles related to art.

Exceptional and Valuable insights regarding art can be found at TalkHouse.

http://thetalkhouse.com

Lance Edmands is a film artist himself and one of the contributors to the site. He has written a great piece in which he deconstructs Don’t Look Now‘s opening sequence. If you’ve not visited The TalkHouse or read anything by Lance Edmands, I encourage you to follow this link. He offers a far more in-depth discussion of Roeg’s experimental work.

http://thetalkhouse.com/film/talks/lance-edmands-bluebird-talks-nicolas-roegs-dont-look-now/

Béatrice Dalle first came to cinematic fame in 1986 when she played the female lead in Jean-Jacques Beineix’s controversial but very successful, 37°2 le matin or Betty Blue as it was titled for release outside of France. Prior to that she had been working as a model. In retrospect I realize that I should have known that her beauty would age oddly. Or, maybe that is unfair. Now, at 50 years of age she still carries a distinctly unique sort of beauty. And if I remember correctly, Jean-Jacques Beineix’s did say that he saw “something different” about her. It was that “something different” that led him to cast this unknown and untrained woman as the tragic female lead — which was loaded with challenges. But he sensed a sort of erotic energy that almost scared him. At the time she was involved with Jean-Hugues Anglade, the highly skilled actor who would be in the lead role. A few years after the films release, Beineix’s mentioned that he wanted to capture the intensity of their erotically-fueled relationship. Apparently neither minded that aspect of their jobs in the film.

Beatrice Dalle
French Elle Magazine
Photograph | David Lynch, 2007

Jean-Jacques Beineix’s ultra-erotic story of love, passion, obsession and tragedy shared between a simple repairman and a mentally fragile young woman quickly captured the psyches of two generations of American and UK youth. Betty Blue was beloved equally by both sexes in the late 1980’s. The reason that we loved it so much was tied into the frantic fusion glossy colors, intense romance and graphic sexuality in ways that appealed as much to young women as it did to young men. An odd occurrence. And, none of us had ever seen what appeared to be unsimilated sex mixed with dire romance. And in such vivid and pretty colors?!?!

Beatrice Dalle and the stylish Betty Blue poster found a place on more walls than can be imagined.

For a while young people projected romance and depth onto Betty Blue in the same way that young girls often project misplaced romantic notions onto Sylvia Plath’s work. In my memory it seems like nearly everyone I knew had the Betty Blue poster in their bedrooms, dorm rooms and apartments well into the mid-1990’s. I had only ever seen it once in 1987. But I saw it again in 2010 and just recently. It still somehow feels important. But through my adult eyes Betty Blue feels exploitive and cruel. And, it is more than a little worrying how Jean-Jacques Beineix romanticizes both the uncomfortable obsession and mental illness all at once. Béatrice Dalle and Jean-Hugues Anglade share an erotic chemistry that still wants to melt the plasma monitor of our big screen TV.  Both actors carry disarming cinematic presence, but not in the way I had remembered. Anglade is kind of sexy in a more grounded way that we were not accustomed to leading men in American or British film.

Jean-Hugues Anglade is a very real and sweaty looking leading man for 1986. Betty Blue, Jean-Jacques Beineix.
Cinematography | Jean-François Robin

Béatrice Dalle is not as beautiful as I remember thinking in 1987. Through my adult eyes she still oozes sexuality, but there is seems to a something remotely odd about her that I didn’t notice when I was 19. Is it her teeth? Maybe her eyes? Most likely it is the charismatic, but worrying energy she brings to the screen.

Beatrice Dalle and that something different make their entrance in Jean-Jacques Beineix’s Betty Blue, 1986.
Cinematography | Jean-François Robin

And, yet, close to 30 years later — I still can’t take my eyes off either of them.

Beatrice Dalle & Jean-Hugues Anglade in the morning. Betty Blue, Jean-Jacques Beineix.
Cinematography | Jean-François Robin

But that same erotic intimacy along with the odd mix of actual penetrative sex, love, obsession, insanity and grotesque resolution now border on the offensive. I still can’t pull myself away. Part of it might be nostalgia, but I think there is just “something different” about the movie. I doubt today’s teens would even put up with more than a few minutes. But, I will always hold Betty Blue close to my heart. However, I threw my poster away when I left home in 1990. I would not see Beatrice Dalle again until her memorably unsettling supporting turn in Claire Denis’ Trouble Every Day.

Beatrice Dalle about to start a fire in The New French Extreme. Trouble Every Day, Claire Denis, 2001
Cinematography | Agnès Godard

I mentioned this film in my last post regarding The New French Extreme that emerged in the late 1990’s and into the 21 Century. It wasn’t until the credits rolled that I realized that I had just seen “my” Betty Blue do everything from cannibalism to self-destructive pyromania.  Trouble Every Day is an exceptional film. It may go a bit too far, but Denis has her reasons. Mainly, I had to face the fact Beatrice Dalle no loner looked like Betty Blue. Or did she?

Fresh, young, not so innocent and more than a little different. Beatrice Dalle as Betty Blue, Jean-Jacques Beineix. 1986. Cinematography | Jean-François Robin

Let’s be fair, it had been 15 years since I had seen her in anything. And yes, I know what you are thinking. No, I somehow missed Jim Jarmusch’s Night on Earth. Not sure how, but I did. Anyway, I know I changed a lot in 15 years. But is is disorienting when we see our movie stars age. Though it is probably far more disorienting for them. Beatrice Dalle would be cast in another key supporting role in Claire Denis’ L’intrus and in Michael Haneke’s Time of the Wolf. While she fit perfectly into Denis’ challenging film world, she seemed a bit out of place in Haneke’s movie. She gave a solid performance, but something about it seemed disconnected from the rest of the cast.

It wouldn’t be long before she re-entered the area of The New French Extreme again. This time Alexandre Bustill and Julien Maury reportedly begged her to star in their brutally surreal À l’intérieur / Inside. Putting the controversies of this film aside, you would be hard pressed to find a more effective actress for the horrific role of La Femme who only utters a few lines throughout the “ordeal” of horror / torture she inflicts. When Beatrice Dalle growls, “Let me in.” — it is truly terrifying. Despite the fact that Bustill and Maury

Beatrice Dalle wants to be let INSIDE, Julien Maury & Alexandre Bustillo, 2007.
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

take the film to a level of disgustingly realistic gore. Before it is all over the gruesome onslaught escalates into an unspeakable act of brutal cruelty. Inside was a major sleeper hit. It has made even more money via the DVD/VOD markets. Inside is so cruel in its violence that I hesitate suggesting it to anyone. But it must be noted that Bustill and Maury created one of the most unnerving, scary and entertaining movies of that year. It is a surreal examination of guilt that has no appropriate boundaries.

“Let me in.” Beatrice Dalle in INSIDE, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

“Let me in!” Beatrice Dalle in INSIDE, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

It may go way too far for many, but for those who can stomach it — one hell of an intense, horrifying and surprising ride awaits. A ride that is as metaphorical and surreal as it is repulsively shocking.

Beatrice Dalle & Alysson Paradis’s arm in INSIDE, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

Beatrice Dalle and Alysson Paradis are both outstanding in their respective roles, but the real success of the film is found in Dalle’s full-on ‘ownership’ of her disturbing presence. It is a slow, steady and all-too human level of insanity that Dalle channels into her character,  La Femme. It serves as a true gift to the filmmakers who utilize her allure to escalate the horror with each movement and minimal comment Dalle makes or states.

Beatrice Dalle’s La Femme takes a cigarette break before she invokes more vengeance. INSIDE, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

This is one film that is not easily forgotten. In 2010 Dalle once again lent herself to Bustill and Maurys’ world of horror. Released in 2011, Livide failed to achieve the level of success and acclaim that Inside enjoyed. Livide is not extreme, but it is a disturbing and entertaining exorcise in horror. In a supporting role, Dalle once again leveraged her allure to help the filmmaker’s achieve their vision of a post-gothic blood lust.

Beatrice Dalle instructs her pupils in Livide, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

Livid failed to even gain release in the US/Canada. Though, it has attained a cult status in France and the UK. Rumors of a big budget Hollywood remake continue to spread.

Beatrice Dalle can still see you in Livide, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

Dalle is one Ballet Instructor you do not want to ignore in Livide, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

Though, Dalle is given little screen time in Livid, it’s all the time required to set the tone of menace and tension.

To be fair, Beatrice Dalle did warn her little ballerina in Livide, Alexandre Bustillo & Julien Maury
Cinematography | Laurent Barès

But, Dalle found her way in the leading role of Patric Chiha’s Domain. Released in France in 2009 and the US in 2011, this film perplexed many film critics. In France it was greeted with mixed reviews but generated discussion around the power of Beatrice Dalle — and, perhaps most interestingly, the focus of mathematics’ impact explored within the framework of Chiha’s detached cinematic study. The main reason I sought this film out before it was actually “released” in the US was related American Rebel Film Artist, John Water’s passionate praise. One must understand that much of what John Waters likes about this film is exactly why many will hate it. I loved this movie, but not for anywhere near the same reasons Waters praised it.

Beatrice Dalle stars in Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography | Pascal Poucet

Patric Chiha’s DOMAIN generates disarming level of tension and the inappropriateness that is constantly brewing beneath the surface as the movie takes the audience on a series of walks. The relationship is between a bored and openly gay 17 year old nephew and his admittedly eccentric aunt, Nadia. Nadia is a respected Mathematician who seems to approach math as a more of a philosophy than a science. Her obsession with the interplay and precision of numbers and logic seem to do more than influence the way she approaches life — it seems to trigger something far more worrying within her psyche. Instead of falling on the Hollywood-like caricature of mathematician or scientist as being “crazy” — Chiha uses Nadia’s mathematical obsession to point out the fact that Nadia is all too aware of her looming descent toward self-destruction which could  be fully induced by her obsessive ideas as easily as by her growing alcoholism. Nadia is not insane, she is surprisingly self aware. Nadia clearly understands that her obsession with the deductive and/or formal theory of the axiom / theorem has inverted and greatly limited her grasp of logic as it relates to daily life. While Chiha is wise is never fully articulating Nadia’s mental and addictive disorders because it allows the audience to specutlate on wether or not Nadia’s fears based in mathematical elements are grounded or have created a perverse manifestation into her inertia and dangerous addictions. It is within the distorted framework of Nadia’s reality that Chiha achieves a perfectly matched level of tempo with his leading lady that lends an even deeper of layer of tension. There is a consistent feeling that her nephew’s love and his need to slip into her life that could potentially lead to her deepest fear: this could be the ideal combination to set off a literal  chaos theory from which she might never escape. Further to the point, that element of chaos could also pull her nephew into a virtual black whole.

Beatrice Dalle’s Nadia’s love of mathematic theory sets the pace of her long walks in Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography | Pascal Poucet

The pace is often purposely slow. It is thanks to the pace that Nadia and Pierre bond forms in a believable way. Their shared walks through Nadia’s favorite areas of Paris, began to offer the audience insight into her fragile grasp of reality. The walks gradually intensify as Nadia begins to elaborate on logic-based theories that have no rational relationship to the surroundings and topics she discusses. Pierre, just on the cusp of a full adulthood formed within the protective cocoon of the upper-middle class, is still too naive to understand Nadia’s ramblings. To Pierre, his aunt in an enchanting and brilliant woman. It is to Beatrice Dalle’s skill that we pick up the sense that as much as she doesn’t want to pull her nephew into life — His adoration and attention are too enticing for her to reject. Instead of recognizing the vacancy and suspect nature of Nadia’s “friendships” Pierre begins to eroticize them. It is within the confines of what appears to be a gay dance club that the film dips its toe into the surreal.

Nadia leads her nephew into a deceptive world of glam that seems to almost slow to the most minimal level of dance movement. Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography | Pascal Poucet

It is as if Pierre has slipped into a whole other level of reality as he attempts to find a groove into not only the beat of the dance, but into Nadia’s deconstructed interpretation of the electronic music. As Pierre discovers his aunt’s beat, his perception of reality begins to twist. What appears to be a seedy gay dance club mixes with the cigarette smoke and morphs into an erotic world where everything slows down to equate itself to Nadia’s perverse Theorem. From Pierre’s limited perspective, Nadia is the primary center of this world. It is at this point that an uneasy and inappropriate bond forms between aunt and nephew. Pierre has become a key component in Nadia’s skewed logic of reality. This is a reality ruled entirely by Nadia’s twisted Mathematical Theorem. Once again, she is aware of the problem her life’s equation has created, but there is no turning back for her or Pierre as they begin a danger-fueled and perverse dance. The blunt editing, Pascal Poucet’s self-conscious cinematography, Beatrice Dalle’s performance (in which her strange beauty is just as essential as her casually corrupt read on Nadia) blend seamlessly with the naturalistically innocent charm Isaïe Sultan brings to Pierre and forms into a cinematic stew.  It is stew that tastes a great deal like something from the cinematic alchemy of Chabrol or Hitchcock. This comparison might insult certain lovers of  both iconic filmmakers, buy it rings true.

Beatrice Dalle lost in the pulsating rhythms of number logic in Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography |
Pascal Poucet

So much walking, thinking and precise living to be done, so little time to waste on comfort. Beatrice Dalle & Isaïe Sultan in Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography | Pascal Poucet

Béatrice Dalle sensuously pulls Pierre into the slips and slides in her world of mathematical obsessions, perverse pleasures and addictions. For a while his unconditional devotion seems to propel his aunt forward. And despite his mother’s concerned warnings and Nadia’s own instinct to pull away, Pierre is hooked to Nadia’s tragic flamboyancy. As the audience begins to really feel the ever-growing danger. This odd woman is capable of harm. Harm that could come at any moment. It is impossible not to note that over the years Béatrice Dalle’s once unique beauty has taken on an unsettling quality. It is so easy to get lost in her face, movements and voice. Her beauty and eroticism give the feeling that it could all unhinge into something ugly and verge into a Chaos Theory of a whole new logical dimension. It would be foolish to underestimate Béatrice Dalle skill and Patric Chiha’s movie walks, stumbles and titters its way to a conclusion that, depending on the viewer’s sensibilities, could be correctly interpreted as either benignly abrupt or alarmingly horrific. It is to Patric Chiha’s benefit that he applies the same level of precision that Nadia so admires in the measured way he gives us the exact amount of information to pull us in.

Isaïe Sultan gently kisses his aunt, Beatrice Dalle in Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography | Pascal Poucet

And he carefully dispenses too little for us to really know for sure where he has taken the aunt and her adoring nephew. It is a surprisingly potent conclusion.  Domain has held my attention since I first saw it. I often come back Domain. I always discover new aspects relating to mathematical theories, perceptions, philosophy, cinematography and vexing performances that do more than just engage us — these actors, Béatrice Dalle most notably — threaten us.  The film takes on an almost hypnotic quality.

Beatrice Dalle leads Isaïe Sultan on a series of walks that become more worrying with each step in Domain, Patric Chiha, 2009.
Cinematography | Pascal Poucet

And Patric Chiha’s clever manipulation of tone is consistently creeping with tension and ever-present danger.My admiration for Domain has continued to grow. I’d be surprised for anyone to find it boring. I’d be even more surprised if someone found anything about it that is particularly familiar beyond the clear but loose thread to Chabrol or Hitchcock. Domain occupies its own quirky place. As does the woman who once adored more dorm rooms that we could count.

Béatrice Dalle
Paris, 2007
Photograph | Kate Barry

I want to stress that this should not be taken as a direct quote, but I do know that Béatrice Dalle was once asked how she goes about choosing her roles, films or filmmakers with whom she wants to work. This is from my memory and I haven’t had time to search the Internet to get the actual quote. I seem to remember this question was in relation to the promotion of Claire Denis’ Trouble Every Day. But I’m confident in providing a summation of her response which was both immediate and and interesting:

I don’t choose the director as much as the director chooses me. And you must trust the artist and follow where that leads. 

Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter.
The Zellner Bros, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

I can vividly recall my pangs of guilt as I laughed throughout The Coen Brothers’ Fargo in 1996. I felt guilty for laughing at something that was stated to be a “true story” and that was the point. It is not always a negative when film causes discomfort or leaves the viewer troubled after seeing it. The challenge for me is that I needed a bit of distance and then a “revisit” to this movie to articulate my opinion.

“The events in this film took place in Minnesota in 1987.”
Fargo
Joel & Ethan Coen, 1996
Cinematography | Roger Deakins

The Zellner Brothers have created a film that is a bit closer to “truth” than The Coen Brothers’ “Fargo” back in 1996. The Coen Bros’ cleverly elevated the cultural satire of “Fargo” to lead us to believe it had all been based on fact. There was no real Internet for us to access to determine if there was any “reality” in the story of “Fargo” at that time. We now know that there was actually nothing “true” about “Fargo” except the disquieting “truth” that it most certainly could have happened. In The Zellner Brothers’ film it is never explained why or how Kumiko manages to “unearth” a battered VHS tape of “Fargo” — and this is a wise choice.

The VHS tape is damaged, but Kumiko can see Steve Buscemi bury the ransom loot in Fargo.
The Coen Bros | 1996
Cinematography | Roger Deakins

David and Nathan Zellner’s film is an abstractly loose variation on an actual incident involving a Japanese woman who died in the unforgiving climate of Fargo’s winter. The real “truth” was she was there to revisit memories of a past love. But due to misunderstandings in the communications of her English prior to her death, false rumors began to form into a “truth” that she had traveled to Fargo to find what she “believed” to be the stolen money buried in The Coen Brothers’ 1996 film.

Rinko Kikuchi’s Kumiko is so lonely, isolated and detached from her reality that she mistakes an American Film for “truth” — and finds a new reason for her existence.
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter, David Zellner, 2014.
Cinematography | Sean Porter

“Kumiko Treasure Hunter” plays with the the idea that has remained firmly grounded in the realms of urban myths generated by “Fargo” the movie. It is clear Kumiko mistakes that iconic film’s opening statement, “This is a true story” for “fact” and assumes she is seeing some sort of documentary.

Steve Buscemi as the little kinda funny-lookin’ guy.
Fargo
Joel Coen | 1996
Cinematography | Roger Deakins

As the VHS tape of Fargo comes to an end, Kumiko can only stare at the static contemplating what she has just seen.

Kumiko’s discovered VHS tape may have ended, but an almost pathological obsession is only beginning to form.
Kimono The Treasure Hunter
David Zellner, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

Rinko Kikuchi gives a painfully realistic performance of a woman so depressed and detached from her own world in Tokyo — her only “friend” is her pet rabbit. She seems unable or unwilling to “connect” with anyone other than her pet. This simple plot point regarding Bunzo, the cute little bunny, is actually startlingly important.

Kumiko feeds Bonzu
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter, David Zellner, 2014.
Cinematography | Sean Porter

Bunzo is the only aspect of her life that  matters to her. She cares for him better than she seems to care for herself. But her inability to apply logic to align the reality of her situation with an illogical desire, pushes her into the realm of self-decption. So intense is the desire to pursue that ransom loot buried in Fargo she slips into an obsession. An obsession that out values anything “real” in her life. For Kumiko is really no big deal to steal a company credit card and abandon everything in her life to pursue this newly formed purpose. But leaving Bunzo is devastating for her.

A girl and her rabbit.
Kimuko The Treasure Hunter
David Zellner, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

As she attempts to set her sweet living love free into the nature of a park, she realizes the domesticated innocence is unable to connect to nature. Like Kumiko, he is a misfit. Kikuchi’s performance matched with the impossibly cut rabbit elevate to tragedy as she leaves Bunzo on the seat of a subway.

Bunzo must depend upon the kindness of strangers on the Tokyo subway system.
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter
David Zellner, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

As difficult as it may be, Kumiko has no choice but to pursue what she perceives as her personal destiny to to find her way to Minnesota in pursuit of what she now perceives to be her life’s mission. She is hellbent on finding that case of money she saw Steve Buscemi buries in the snow.

David Zellner’s film is even more quirky than Coen’s “Fargo.” But this quirkiness is established in the ways we see a clearly unstable woman interacting with her Japanese peers, boss, family and the local Americans as she refuses to relent in her pursuit. It is a fascinating journey to follow.

Two equally eccentric but well intentioned men attempt to help Kumiko find her way to Fargo as well as toward salvation in Jesus.
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter
David Zelnner, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

Mixing realistically comic encounters with the increasing uneasy tone is achieved by a balance of acting fused with effective musical score / camera work. The movie is constantly challenging the viewer to know if it is “ok” to chuckle/laugh or if this reaction is inappropriate. This required self-introspection of the audience is not only challenging — it requires viewers to evaluate individual connections to humanity and his/her own perceptions of reality.

Kumiko is getting close to her purpose as she gazes up to an American Parable in of itself.
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter
David Zellner, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

Rinko Kikuchi never drifts away from what is clearly a tragically lost character in dire need of help. This entire cinematic experience is both fascinating and devastating in equal measures.

“It is my destiny.”
Kumiko The Treasure Hunter
David Zellner, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter

Kumiko The Treasure Hunter is one for whom we cheer. And she is also a tragic parable of humanity pursuing dreams that are impossible to achieve.

This masterful film weaves its way into our minds and hearts. One should not miss the opportunity to see this movie. It carries a disarming level of power.

Rinko Kikuchi is Kumiko The Treasure Hunter.
The Zellner Bros, 2014
Cinematography | Sean Porter
Musical Score | The Octopus Project

Please Note: The validity of the information I’ve translated in the following post must be viewed as conjecture. Time and emotional perspectives seem to distort, amplify and confuse “fact” into varying degrees of truth, unfairly skewed opinion, and incorrect analysis. Sadly, old grudges, resentments and jealousies can lead  “logic” to “mythologic.” The fact is that a number of people who were directly involved in a specific situation often remember it differently. What they have adapted to “truth” is sometimes little more than gossip. It is a challenge to determine how to look back in cinematic history. I’ve done my best to “filter” through the questionable to include what is most likely true. Please be aware that my “filtering abilities” are very limited in scope. It is not my intention to play into or further tighten untruth. 

“Gossip is the opiate of the oppressed.”  — Erica Jong

In the Robert Altman’s 3 Women, Shelley Duvall gleefully informs Sissy Spacek, “This is my parking space. It’s the best one!” Later Duvall explains, “That’s Dirty Girtie! Pull her bow and she’ll say hello!” …her delivery of those lines creates an odd and varied response for viewers. Some giggle, some laugh, some are not sure how to react, but many viewers feel the need to squirm.

“1 woman became 2/2 women became 3/3 women became 1″
3 Women
Robert Altman, 1977
Cinematography | Charles Rosher Jr.

When 3 Women debuted, nearly all of the major critics swooned. But the most powerful Film Critic of the day, Pauline Kael, truly disliked the movie. Her negative viewpoint of this film is of particular interest because up until this movie, Kael had been a consistently staunch Altman ally. When 20th Century Fox released it into cinemas, audiences were either entranced, confused or indifferent. In 1977 there was no Internet. There were no cell phones. While many people took the time to read serious film criticism, access to “Art Films” was largely limited to major cities like Manhattan, Boston or Los Angele. Before any sort of “word of mouth” regarding Robert Altman’s surreal experimental film had the chance to spread, it was pulled out of circulation within 8 days. Over the following two decades 3 Women became not only a “Cult Classic” but was largely considered one of the most important American films of the 1970’s.  Yet only a very few had ever actually seen an uncut or clear presentation of the film.

Shelley Duvall improvises Millie Lammoreaux with an mid-mix of comedy and looming horror. Welcome to Robert Altman’s dream turned to film.
3 Women
Robert Altman, 1977
Cinematography | Charles Rosher Jr.

Robert Altman’s study of identity, isolation, loneliness and sexuality is pure cinematic magic. Shelley Duvall and Sissy Spacek are pitch-perfect. The cinematic experimentation employed is fully realized. Altman had a strange dream. He then brought it to life allowing his two key actors the freedom to improvise and create their individual visions which could blend with his. Sissy Spacek is outstanding in the film, but it is Shelley Duvall who remains the film’s vital core.

“You’re the most perfect person I’ve met.”
Sissy Spacek prepares to take aim.
3 Women
Robert Altman, 1977
Cinematography | Charles Rosher Jr.

If you’ve not seen it, prepare yourself for a film completely different and oddly disturbing. Were it not for the help of Altman and the dedication of some folks at Criterion, 3 Women might have been forever lost in an abbreviated and muddy form of a memory. In 2004, just two years prior to Altman’s passing, it was finally properly restored and placed within the correct ratio. There are more than a few people who hated it when it was released for brief week in 1977 who now find it hard to believe that they didn’t like it. Most interestingly, a lot of viewer’s who parodied Shelley Duvall’s carefully articulated “Millie” discovered there was a great deal more to her artistry than realized via YouTube and scruffy VHS tapes revealed.

Shelley Duvall has been the victim of gossip and collective mythology. Duvall is not insane. Rest assured she is not wandering around the heat of Texas trying to runaway from UFO’s. People actually believe these ridiculous rumors. The truth is that Shelley Duvall just tired of the pressures of the business.  After a great deal of success creating a television series that artfully retold fairy tales, she decided to focus her attentions

“I had the most wonderful dream…”
Sissy Spacek / Shelley Duvall
Robert Atlman, 1977
Cinematography | Charles Rosher Jr.

to the care and promotion of animal rights. As the 1990’s came to a close, she relocated permanently back in Texas. She likes her privacy, but she is not a recluse. She remains an endearingly eccentric but highly intelligent woman. It would have been interesting to gain her perspective regarding the production and  her experience of  3 Women and subsequent reception. It was out of respect for her wishes to go under the radar of “celebrity” that she did not take part in Criterion’s restoration or release. But Shelley Duvall will always hold a fascination of the collective consciousness. 3 Women and The Shining remain her most studied work. You would be hard pressed to think of two more oddly-effective performances in two films that hold a great deal of power in film lore.

What is it that pulled you up into that cinema screen?

It is challenging to even attempt to articulate how difficult it often is to secure these “lost” or “forgotten” films. My reaction to the stubborn dedication to find these films: “Man, it is really cool she loves this movie so much she is willing to devote several years trying to secure the rights to restore and distribute it.” At the same time, I do get it.

The logic is found in answers to questions like: What draws us to movies? What is about a particular movie that makes it important? Why do some important works of Film Art fail to gain notice when first released? How do important films get lost? What makes you want to watch a movie more than once? What is in this movie that resonates for you? What lost cinematic treasure would you be willing to pay $30 to own on blu-ray?

And then, come the questions from the organization that needs to fund the pursuit: What makes you think that a re-master/re-transfer of this movie will yield profit? Are we sure that the people who made this movie are willing to encage or revisit the failure of this movie? What makes you think that this person wants to remind people of this movie flop? Don’t you know that the person who needs to be involved in this re-issue is incredibly difficult? Are you not aware that this person is insane? Why do you think anyone in this century would be interested in those filmmakers? If this movie is important, why haven’t I heard of it?

“Well, here we are on the road.”
“Yup, that’s where we are all right.”
Two-Lane Blacktop
Monte Hellman, 1971
Cinematography |
Jack Deerson

Long out of circulation and “non-distributable” because of disputes over music rights, all it really took were several people who loved Two-Lane Blacktop to swerve around obstacles and navigate challenges with the kind of dedication the two lead characters apply to drag racing.  But this amazing film was eventually transferred to HD/Blu-ray via The Criterion Collection. Monte Hellman’s film is so effortlessly brilliant, it is hard not to wonder if he had any idea that what he was filming would result in a cinematic masterpiece.

What at first appears to be a vague character study of two dudes drag racing their way across the country slowly develops into a surprisingly insightful art film. In truth, the movie offers only 2 characters: The primer-coated / souped-up ’55 chevy and the lonely landscape of late 1960’s America. And of the two, only one of these is fully formed. The only reliable thing “The Driver” and “The Mechanic” have in life is their powerful American car and a shared need to speed.

“You can never go fast enough…”
Dennis Wilson, Laurie Bird and Jame Taylor
Two-Lane Blacktop
Monte Hellman, 1971
Cinematography | Jack Deerson

Monte Hellman captures a country sad, detached, lonely and half asleep. With the gift of hindsight, it seems as if Hellman’s US is falling asleep as culture slips into a stew of sexual experimentation, identify assertion, self-absorption and paranoia. As we ride alongside these two half-formed men and the free-willed woman they have picked up — we see a world of loneliness, suspicion and isolation. It is all very minimalist in approach, but unbelievable in power.

The challenges involved in securing music rights often appears impossible to resolve. But that worry seems easy when encountering other concerns that greet the initial decision to pursue acquiring the rights to remaster, adjust and transfer a film to the 21st Century HD formats. If the initial line of questioning is met and a firm decision is made to fund the pursuit — a whole slew of new obstacles come up that will lead to a dead end.

While a major studio may have owned distribution rights in the film’s era, it usually has no has valid ownership today.  But the majors have the power and the influence. Even though former and infamous studio leadership is long gone, there can be resentments and very real grudges that are still seething just beneath the surface. Sometimes, power never forgets. But most often the biggest challenges arrive in securing the trust of some or one talented key artist(s) who have not only secured the rights to some of their own films — they often have one of the very few near-pristine mint copies safely sealed away.

“The earth is my body; my head is in the stars.”
Harold and Maude
Hal Ashby, 1971.
It would not be until 2012 that Criterion was able to get this film re-issued in the quality it deserved.

A more challenging situation is when the key artist(s) are no longer living and control has been handed over to an individual, an estate or some other entity. A wide spectrum of potential problems arise. The family of the deceased artist(s) have unrealistic expectations of monetary value. Or for one reason or another is unwilling to discuss the topic. This situation is almost hopeless unless another “key” player in either the film’s history or is somehow “connected” to the individuals not interested is willing to step-in and put in a good word.

When looking back at the restoration and re-distribution of many films, the use of then popular songs playing in the background of a scene is particularly difficult. To provide a fictional example: If Madonna’s Papa Don’t Preach plays for over 20 seconds, an agreement much be reached with the artist or company who owns the rights to the original recording. While it might seem a minor detail that a filmmaker chose to play 65 seconds of Madonna’s Papa Don’t Preach in a movie. For the filmmaker and to the fans of the film, those 65 seconds of Madonna’s pop song are vital. Unless the artist or the publishing company is willing to cut a break this can grind the whole process to a stop. In truth, the reality is usually that if one of the individual’s pursuing the film is able to connect with either the artist or someone close to that artist. The problem can often be resolved.

While some artists are truly difficult and unreasonable, most are not. And it is usually the artists who have been most often labeled “difficult” or “unreasonable” are often the easiest and logical people you will encounter. The mythology of gossip is more important to perception than reality. Chances are Madonna has no idea that a few seconds of an old song are blocking the release of a movie. And why would she? The real challenge? …finding a way to contact Madonna without causing her alarm.

Yet something within these films requires the lover(s) of film to push in pursuit of creative ways to secure the opportunity to restore/reissue the movies. Even when everyone and everything tells them “No Way!” There are always individuals who refuse to give up the pursuit. But sometimes the pursuit almost seems like an exorcise in self-torture. Some “challenges” can’t be predicted or expected.

Your hairdresser does it better…
Shampoo, Hal Ashby
Cinematography | László Kovács

A highly respected and sought-after film released over 40 years ago remains a “soft spot” for some of the artists involved. This important 1975 movie still stirs powerful feelings among several powerful senior members of The Hollywood Machine. The importance of Hal Ashby’s contribution to Film Art is not to be underestimated. He was a master of capturing his era with no concerns regarding the problematic aspects he might discover. This is one of the many reasons his films have retained power. Ashby had the ability to turn the camera on his era, the characters roaming within it and the odd logic applied to choices and actions. His films never manipulate or hold the audience hand. They simply roll out in vivid simple complexity.

And now I enter the void of “filtering” information. I hope what I have come to understand is accurate, but it is very important to note that several artists of note have wildly different perspectives of a film to which they are tied. That being said, I doubt that much of this will be news to many people who have wondered why this film has never been treated appropriately.

When Warren Beatty hired Hal Ashby to take on the role of director for Beatty and Robert Townes’ incredibly smart script in 1974, he knew what he was doing. The film that would become Shampoo was a serious examination of ambition, sexual opportunism, misogyny, politics, fear, rage, loneliness and ultimate self-loathing disguised as a sex comedy. At this point one can only theorize why Beatty/Townes decided to set the movie in the Hollywood of 1968. It would seem obvious. When it comes to modern history, 1968 is one of if not the most important years that Post-WWII United States has ever experienced. Shampoo could most certainly be viewed as a realistically scathing study of that moment in time. However, it might be more likely that the decision for setting it in 1968 was a bit more personally complicated.

Julie Christy as Jackie. Her career seems to have stalled. So her hairdresser reminds her of erotic pleasure and gives her new “do” to hopes of propelling an image change. While true to late 60’s glam, does it not remind you of a certain movie star’s early 60’s “do”?
Shampoo
Hal Ashby, 1975
Cinematography | László Kovács

The origins of Shampoo‘s plot have always been a bit sketchy. Dependent upon which “sources” you feel are more accurate, Shampoo takes an oddly superficial motivation. The filmmakers, or a few of them, have stated that the story was “loosely inspired” by two notable hairdresser of that time. Discussion regarding this matter has always been approached cautiously. It is more than likely that one particular hairdresser is being parodied. And, more than a few people of influence in the early 1970’s were referenced within the characters. While several individuals who suspect that they were hidden inside “characters” no longer care if this was true or not. Some very much do still care. As for the hairdresser who may or may not served as the inspiration for Warren Beatty’s character — it’s a problem. But it is best to not go there.

Shampoo achieved a great deal of success. Both a critical and box office hit, the movie also secured an Oscar for Lee Grant. And Grant really rocks the screen in Shampoo. Interestingly, Grant’s further career pursuits seem to have instantly become limited after she received the trophy. Like many supporting actors honored with the Oscar, she sort of fell off the map. The success of Shampoo was more than earned, but it did cause some panic within the rank and file of 1975 Hollywood. More than a few “important” people felt that they were seeing themselves portrayed unfairly. Whether they were correct in that feeling is not clear. But for a movie of such success and esteem, it seemed to take a very long time to find its way to VHS and even longer to make it to DVD. When it was released to DVD, it was given the barest of transfer improvements. Actually, the only improvement was to present it in “letter box format” It didn’t look much better on DVD than it had in an already lazy transfer to VHS. Columbia Pictures/Sony no longer own the distribution rights. However, Sony still retains a vested interest in Shampoo that is difficult to clearly define. It has never been restored and transferred to HD/blu-ray quality. Note: It is not for lack of trying. It is unclear if Shampoo will ever be pulled out of the complex mire that keeps it restrained. Yet the pursuit pushes onward.

Another film from the 1970’s which has slowly began to be “revisited” from a Film Theory / Cinematic History perspective is far more obscure than Shampoo. This other film was released in 1972. It was independently financed by a very powerful actor/singer who wanted the opportunity to make a film which more personally expressed the ways in which the cultural/societal ideals of rigid Feminism were causing a confusion of female identity. This artist was and remains one of the most misunderstood public figures in entertainment history.

Barbra Streisand at 27.
Photograph | Steve Schapiro, 1969

Barbra Streisand was not yet 30 but was already labeled “iconic” and “superstar” and she was the actor/singer.  The movie she wanted to make was Up The Sandbox. It was based on Anne Roiphe’s 1970 novel. Up The Sandbox is a particularly interesting example of the way unexpected obstacles block the ability to secure distribution rights and release in HD quality to blu-ray. Once again, it is here that it is often hard to sort out “truth” from “distorted opinions” and tacky old gossip.

In the late 1960’s many bankable film stars began to feel the major studios were consistently limiting their artistic abilities and interests. It was then super-agent, Freddie Fields, who came up with an idea for for Barbra Streisand, Sidney Poitier and Paul Newman. He suggested that the 3 iconic artists join together to form a new kind of film production company which would give all 3 creative power in the films they chose to make.  As all 3 knew each other fairly well, Freddie Fields felt that each of the four actors trusted each other’s individual visions. They agreed.

Film Icons McQueen, Streisand, Newman and Poitier join together to form First Artists. Hollywood, 1969.
Photographer | Unknown to me

Streisand/Poitier/Newman all had the shared goal of controlling their film carriers. In less than a year, Steve McQueen joint the 3. A bit later Dustin Hoffman joined them as the 5th. McQueen/Hoffman also shared the same opinion that the major studios “did not get” who they were or what they could do as actors, producers and directors. Each of them would take on the sole responsibility for each of his/her respective film(s) that they would co-jointly fund. They also committed to produce three films each. There appear to have been other details involved how the partners would reach a consensus to “green light” each project. But I’m uncomfortable in assessing the validity of the information related to this aspect of the artists’ agreement. But it does seems to have been more of a “safety net” that these 4 movie stars secured a co-deal which made First Artists a subsidiary of Warner Bros. Interestingly, Warner Brothers seemed hesitant to serve as the distributer for films made by First Artists. National General Pictures was a new distribution company that initially distributed the first several films. Within barely 2 years, NCP was cited for Anti-Trust infringement and was shut-down. At that point WB started distributing First Artists Productions films.

But the initial spirit of United Artists became muddled fairly early in. It seems clear that McQueen liked all of his fellow partners, but he did not agree with their strongly shared political left-wing opinions. McQueen  great deal of trouble securing “buy-in” or “agreement” for to pursue the scripts he wanted because they did not reflect what the other 3 artists felt their shared films should reflect. Later on, Dustin Hoffman ran into challenges with not only McQueen but Paul Newman over several projects he wanted to pursue. It is almost impossible to know what actually happened, but one of the aspects of First Artists that continues to surface, Streisand often calm situations. While strident in her political and civil rights concerns — she didn’t seem to feel the need to make that an essential aspect of the production company. It has been noted that of the 5, Streisand had the most logical business approach: The individual artist should be granted more control, but the bottomline had to be met. In other words, she might not have been particularly interested in seeing McQueen’s The Getaway, but she understood that McQueen knew what he was doing and that his film was likely to be a hit. A clear pattern seems to emerge that Streisand had a clear understanding of the reality that First Artists had to turn profits. Freedom of control would not amount to much in the big picture if monetary success was not achieved. It seems that both Newman and Poitier understood this, but were less concerned.

One of several logos employed by First Artists in the 1970’s.

Unlike many of the film production companies that would spring up throughout the late 1980’s/1990’s, this was not a “tax write-off” or a way for actors to make more money on any film in which he/she stars. This was a legit attempt at taking control of their “individual” and “shared” artistic “visions.” First Artists managed to create minor box office hits, but only three significant money-makers:  Steve McQueen’s The Getaway was the first major hit earning an initial $37,000,000 and later approaching $50,000,000 with worldwide distribution with a budget of only $4,000,000. Both the budget and the box-office earnings were challenged, but it seems those numbers are most accurate. McQueen’s film directed by Sam Peckinpah is now a cinematic classic, but it is not clear that it did big business during its initial release.

“Punch it, Baby!”
The Getaway
Steve McQueen
Sam Peckinpah | 1972
Lucien Ballard | Cinematography

As it would turn out, Streisand was the only of the 5 artists who was able to deliver major commercial hits. Despite an epic pan by critics, her 1976 A Star Is Born earned $80,000,000 and continued to higher profits via world wide distribution. Though it is difficult to fully know what a film earned back in the 1970’s, it is thought that A Star Is Born earned well over $100,000,000 by the end of 1977. With a budget of 6,000,000 this would be the only “blockbuster” First Artist would ever produce. Her 1979 movie, The Main Event, once again escaped film critic’s disdain when it earned $43,000,000 with a budget of only $8,000,000. Once again it would earn closer to $50,000,000 via world wide release and had secured “blockbuster” status by early 1980. With only three major hits in eleven years, First Artists folded by the end of 1980.

The first two films released were from Paul Newman: Pocket Money and The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. Both of these films were released in 1972. Pocket Money failed to make money and was greeted negatively by the critics. The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean, directed by the great John Huston, initially failed to make money, but critics quite liked it. It also earned an Oscar nomination for “Best Song” and several Golden Globe nominations. This would help it to eventually earn $7,000,000 in 1973. However, the actual budget for Judge Roy Bean remains a mystery. For reasons related to concerns over who would direct, First Artists ended up paying what was then termed “a record price” to secure the rights to John Milius’ script. It must have been a true record price because First Artists and Warner Bros. viewed it as a box office loss.

Up the Sandbox would be Barbra Streisand’s first venture into the world on the other side of the camera. It would also be the third film First Artists made and released. Up the Sandbox would actually earn some of the best reviews Streisand had yet to receive from serious film critics — most importantly, Pauline Kael. Similar to Paul Newman’s Judge Roy Bean, Streisand’s first venture started out with a modest budget. Once again, sorting truth from fact is difficult.

“If this is what being a mother is like, I turn in my ovaries!”
Barbra Streisand
Up The Sandbox
Irvin Kershner,1972
Cinematography | Gordon Willis

Streisand wisely asked Irvin Kershner to helm as director. He was her first choice and he accepted immediately. Streisand had a deep respect for Kershner and he for her. As the two began to plan and work with Paul Zindel and his adaptation of the novel to screenplay, Streisand was pressed to increase the budget. The actual truth is not clear, but it appears that Kershner’s vision was more ambitious than Streisand’s. He felt it was important to treat her character’s reality and fantasies in the same way. In other words, he was interested in applying a higher level of Surrealism than Zindel captured in his original draft. Among Kershner’s ideas was to film several scenes of the movie in Africa. During post-production, the expensive African shoot was hardly used in the final cut. He also agreed with Streisand that Gordon Willis was the best cinematographer working. Willis’ dance card was full at this time and he wasn’t just any cinematographer. But he accepted the offer and was hired. Eventually Streisand increased her film’s budget to $5,500,0000.  Streisand fully supported her director and their cinematographers’ instincts. And it bears noting that she still agrees today. She appears to have no regrets regarding Up the Sandbox. But it would be her first cinematic flop. Sandbox earned only $3,500,000. The fact that her film flopped had a more potent impact on her “cred” than the even more substantial losses suffered by her business partners. This is most certainly fact. It can’t be disputed. Hollywood’s infamous “Boy’s Club” was less forgiving toward Streisand than her male business partners. Thus ended Streisand’s attempt with experimental cinema.

Fantasies and Mundane Reality merge
Barbra Streisand (without a wig or a net)
Up The Sandbox
Irvin Kershner, 1972
Cinematography | Gordon Willis

Up the Sandbox is dated, but it is an exceptionally interesting surreal experimental film. This not a typical Streisand film. Zindel and Kershner approached the line between realism and fantasy in ways that create a disarming sense of disorientation. What at first appears to be a fairly clear way of fusing reality into fantasy gradually becomes unclear. It is becomes difficult to know when what we have seen is real or fantasy. As the mid-point of the movie arrives, the viewer begins to suspect or wonder if what was “perceived” as a fantasy at the beginning of the film might have actually been “real”

Streisand and her lover head out to express political anarchy through terrorism.
Up the Sandbox
Irvin Kershner, 1972
Cinematography | Gordon Willis

This is achieved by slightly changing the “style” when it comes to some outlandish fantasies and applying an almost passive focus to other fantasies. The character’s reality veers into several shifts of style as well. By the time the credits begin to roll, the audience is no longer sure what has been “real” and what has been “fantasy” This intended confusion actually becomes stronger when the viewer has a bit of distance from the film itself. Irvin Kershner crafts the film in a manner that compels repeated viewings.

There was a strong and often confused political stance regarding Feminism of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s. Many of the Feminist Goals seemed to have applied pressure on many women for whom these goals were not always the optimal choice within the context of daily everyday life. Up the Sandbox‘s main character is bored and constantly trying to determine where she stands in a world filled with political and sexual revolution. She is feeling uneasy and confused by a growing level of cultural pressure and expectations regarding her own female identity. Her decision to put her “career” on the back-burner to stay at home and raise her children turns a quite valid decision at odds with the culture she navigates. With the gift of hindsight, the main character’s conflict with The 1970’s Feminist Movement blended with the cinematic experimental style makes Up the Sandbox seem like a very odd career choice for Barbra Streisand both as a producer and a highly politicized public person. It also adds a distinctive underlined power to the movie.

Film critics met the movie with mixed responses. Some loved it. Some were confused. But only a handful of critics disliked it. Perhaps most significant of this era, Pauline Kael gave Streisand praise for taking on and succeeding at playing a character so far from public perceptions of Streisand. First Artist Productions and National General Pictures were equally conflicted about how to market the movie. The decision was to promote the movie as a “comedy” utilizing a Richard Amsel illustration of a pregnant Streisand tied to a baby bottle on the cover of Time Magazine declaring Streisand to be “The dust mop of the year!” It was an odd and misleading choice. By the time it reached cinemas Streisand fans were expecting an R-rated version of What’s Up Doc? — instead they found themselves watching an experimental film featuring a version of Streisand they had not seen. There were few wise-cracks. There was no glam. Streisand had not worn a wig for What’s Up Doc? but Peter Bogdanovich ensured that her hair was well appointed for each scene — as well as make-up. Up the Sandbox presents Streisand without a wig and the benefit of constant grooming and Gordon Willis applied a natural lighting when he shot her. This was Streisand “acting” and she is believable as an upper-middle class housewife of a middling academic with two children. There were very few typical funny scenes. The humor most often takes the tone of Absurdism. The marketing error is that this was film for Art House Cinemas and it should have been marketed to express that. However, even Pauline Kael’s positive assessment wasn’t enough to make Film Art supporters believe they should bother seeing the movie.

The film also fueled anger from the left. Vito Russo, a crucial Gay Rights Advocate, was very quick to criticize a liberal with strong ties to the gay community for allowing her character to say a line during what turns out to be a potential lesbian experience. Streisand’s repressed character’s response is still disturbing. Feminist were angered by this scene and were also frustrated that an ally of The Feminist Movement would even hint at playing a character who is conflicted by anything related to Feminist philosophy. But the mainstream had already ignored the movie before any of these controversies were discussed.

Are we sure she is actually seeing that?
Barbra Streisand
Up the Sandbox
Irvin Kershner, 1972
Cinematography | Gordon Willis

Streisand over-saw the remaster of Up The Sandbox to DVD and Warner Bros released it as a part of DVD box set in 2004. It features a commentary from Streisand as well as Irvin Kershner. Streisand’s commentary is not particularly insightful. The main “take away” is that this film was very important to her, she remains proud of the movie but seems genuinely “bruised” by its failure. As she provides her commentary it almost seems like we are hearing a tired mathematician trying to determine the answer to a difficult equation. Irvin Kershner’s commentary is more relevant. He touches on the fact that at the time they were filming, friends warned him to not to share some concerns he began to have in mid-production. He took that advice. Long after the film was completed and released, he shared this with Streisand. Both commentaries make it clear that the two were and had remained friends. Kershner discovered that Streisand was hurt that he hadn’t trusted her enough as the producer to bring his concerns to her attention. The experience of this film’s commercial failure would forever change the way Streisand approached projects. It also resulted in over 2 years of unemployment for Kershner.  As he once stated, “It’s not so easy to be the only filmmaker to direct a Barbra Streisand movie that flops.”

The other 3 DVDs initially only sold as a set with Up the Sandbox were soon offered for purchase individually. Up the Sandbox was the lone non-seller of the set.

Over the past decade this movie has started to gain the attention of number of Film Theory and Film Historians. It seems potentially posed for critical re-evaluation and an ideal time to properly restore the film. It would seem the current challenges are more tied up in confusion about distribution rights and a general mistrust that anyone would buy the blu-ray or HD stream. So the current situation is making the case for  Up The Sandbox as a valid and important film. It is a great snapshot of a woman caught in the unique Cultural Web that was spun out of the 1960’s.  I recently received an email from one of the people most vested in getting this film restored. She wrote: “The film actually feels more French than American. And yet it is filled with idiosyncratic use of ‘nameless’ iconic pop culture figures…”  She is referring to Up the Sandbox‘s odd assortment of easily recognized but somehow forgotten actors. Most of the minor supporting roles are played by soon to become key players in some very iconic television. Much of TV’s The Jeffersons, Electric Company, Laverne & Shirley, One Day At A Time and other soon-to-be-famous 1970’s TV show actors are present. Most notably, this was Stockard Channing’s film debut. It does sort of add an additional aura of disorientation.

The other “selling points” are that the film speaks to the skill of Irvin Kershner, a great filmmaker who never gained the respect he deserved. He was very much apart of the whole new American filmmaking era that gave us such artists as Altman, Ashby and Arthur Penn. History has largely relegated Kershner to being the director who got into arguments with George Lucas as he directed sequel to Star Wars. Apparently Kershner’s idea of adding “a bit more depth” was a daunting challenge for the director of Return of the Jedi. He was an odd pick for that movie and it seems strange that this is the film for which he is remembered. Additionally, Gordon Willis added his brilliance as cinematographer. Up the Sandbox appears to be a lost, forgotten and under-appreciated cinematic curiosity. But it has several key players in the world of film restoration trying to find ways to secure distribution and they are determined.

The whole world of The Film Art Restoration/Release and that of the Boutique DVD/Blu-ray fascinates me. It has also holds a seductive power. I’m intensely curious why certain movies mean so much to people. This is one of the many magic aspects Film Art. It is subjective, but is seems to stir an incredible level of passion. I find it inspirational to see that initial individual  who starts the initial journey to restore a film and manages to succeed. And usually even if I’m not particularly interested in the movie, their commitment to these films resonates for me.

Matty Stanfield

Things are about to get very strange…
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Photograph | Jan Kudela

“The Dreamer awakes.
The shadow goes by.
The tale I have told you, that tale is a lie.
But listen to me, Bright maiden, proud youth.
The tale is a lie; What it tells is the truth.”
— Author Unknown, Traditional folktale ending

When we are children and an adult reads or tells us a story from the realm of “fairy tales” or folklore, a profound logic seeps into our psyche that never leaves. An aspect or a key moment in one of these stories becomes a core foundation of our identity. It seems impossible that some bit of a childhood story has worked its way so deeply into our perception of logic. When given a period of time to “digest” this idea it no longer seems  impossible. It is valid truth. This is not a bad thing. The illogical silliness of some old folklore bears a great deal of truth that is easier for a child to grasp when told in the form of a “Once Upon A Time..” context. Folklore, mythology and fairy tales are grounded in some subversion of truth. It isn’t the fox in Little Red Riding Hood or the witch in Hansel and Gretel that scares us and merges into our logic. It is the deception perpetuated by these character archetypes that grabs our tiny minds and never lets go.This is an important understanding  for every human being: Don’t trust strangers. It is certainly a crucial idea that every child must understand.

On the flip-side of this logic, sometimes those terrifying allegories form such a strong hold within our minds it aids in a perpetuation of illogical paranoia.

Horror is fast approaching…
Father Tucker’s Play-Time
Series Edition of Little Red Riding Hood, c. 1910

Unfounded feelings or suspicions that can linger with us well into our adulthood. While it is absurd to think your Grandmother or anyone upon whom you depend could morph into a fanged sort of demon intent on eating you, it doesn’t mean that in a crisis of an elder’s illness you won’t have a nightmare in which this happens. This is the subconscious creating a metaphor out of the stressors involved in your worries for and about her care. On a conscious level, that a walk in the woods might seem fun but something inside you worries that it could easily become a walk into unspeakable dangers.  A jump into the ocean for a swim can sometimes be met with a fear that somewhere just below us,  John Williams’ musical notes are trying to warn us of that giant shark that is about to attack. We know that the forest and the ocean contain dangers, but these are dangers that are very low from a realistic perspective. This is when those parables, allegories, metaphors and movies come to the surface of our adult identities. It is easy for many to push back these illogical concerns, but for some it gets a bit more murky.

Exploring fairy tales, folklore and mythology is nothing new for filmmakers. They often hold the same sort of spell over us as do the stories that inspire them. Movies have always played a strong role in my life. Partly because I grew up constantly seeing them, but also because I desperately needed to escape my reality. My father was insane. It was mistaken for “eccentricity” at the time. But he was a scary man. He was brilliant at deception. For the first nine years of my life, I viewed him as constant threat. But that is a whole other blog. For now, let’s stick with the fact that my father was insane and he had no clue regarding “appropriate boundaries.” The few boundaries he had were skewed at best.

Interestingly, it would be my greatest source of fear who led me to the power of movies and the escape they offered. This started very early in my life. He seemed to have no idea as to what was acceptable for a child to see. Naturally, as child I didn’t mind this at all. But often I would see images and stories that left me feeling deeply confused and afraid. Children are far aware that culture gives credit. A child may not be able to articulate an understanding, but they understand much more than most think. I can remember my father making a last minute decision that we were going to the movies. My mother was not home. As we walked up the ticket counter he must have requested one adult and one child. I’m not sure, but I the woman behind the ticket counter became quite upset, “Sir, this is not a movie for a child! How old are you, sweetie?” I still remember the shocking way her tough voice suddenly took on a honey-dewed sweetness. Before I could form an answer, I felt the seemingly giant hand of my father firmly clenched my head. “His age is none of your business. How much do I owe you?”

“Do you know what she did, your cunting daughter?”
Linda Blair inciting heart attacks and long lines at the box office.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973

The Exorcist did not scare me at that time. To be honest, I was just confused. My biggest concern regarding the movie was trying to understand why people around us seemed so disturbed. When I whispered, “Her voice don’t match her lips.” was greeted with hushes from all corners. It would be years later that the horrific side of this film became apparent to me. As a child, it seemed more silly than scary. I understood I was not tell mom we saw it. Later my father took me to the drive-in. Drive-in’s always showed movies in “double bills.” Pay one price per head and see two movies. The movies were usually older and more obscure than what one would find in a traditional cinema. As my father adjusted the speaker to his window the show began. The first movie was about vampires. Later I realized that this was Roman Polanski’s The Fearless Vampire Killers.  I’m not exactly sure how old I was, but I am thinking I was about 8. Once again, I wasn’t particularly scared. To be honest, I remember being more concerned about this odd dude who walked around my father’s car. My father pulled out his pistol and the odd man quickly vanished.

The second feature would have a much dramatic impact and it intoxicated my tiny brain. It was scary to me, but it seemed to require my attention. I might not have been able to state what the film was about, but I suspect I understood it better than most of the adults sitting in their cars. This girl was in trouble and none of it was her fault. I was worried for her. And the images that were projected on that outdoor screen were searing into my being. I did ask my father about it. He said something to the effect that it was an artsy-fartzy movie. He was bored and wanted to leave, but I begged him to stay and let us watch it. It would be years later that a friend’s older cousin produced a beat-up old VHS tape for us to watch. The images were pretty muddy, but these were the same ones I had seen as child. I was pulled into the screen of my friend’s television. As I watched it all flow out too quickly for my stoned consciousness to read the blurry subtitles my friend kept muttering, “What the fuck? No, Matty! What the fuck? Make it stop!” She rolled around laughing. Occasionally sneaking a peak, she would scream in a sort of mocked horror.

The movie we were watching was  Valerie and Her Week of Wonders. Returning to this film with a clear and adult perspective, it is easy that my childhood reality lent this surreal film a great more power than it intended.

Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

Shot in 1969 and released in 1970, Valerie and Her Week of Wonders marks the end of The Czech New Wave. No doubt it ended up on a double-billing with another old movie at the drive-in. I’m not sure where my friend’s cousin got his tape. I would be in my 30’s before it was even remotely “restored” and released via DVD. After a good deal of work, Criterion has recently re-issued a pristine version with improved subtitles. Watching Jaromil Jireš’ bizarre movie within the context of the 21st Century is challenging. Based on Vítězslav Nezval 1930’s Surrealist novel, the entire production is almost drenched in Gothica.

“Sirin and Alkonost, the Birds of Joy and Sorrow” by Viktor Vasnetsov, 1896
Was thought to have had an impact on Vítězslav Nezval

Nezval was key member of the Czech Surrealist Movement, and Jireš’ utilizes his dialogue and adheres to Nezval’s core aesthetics. Nezval wrote the following in his “Forward” for his book, Valerie and her Week of Wonders:

“I wrote this novel out of a love of the mystique in those ancient tales, superstitions and romances, printed in Gothic script, which used to flit before my eyes and declined to convey to me their content. …If, with this book, I will have given [the readers] an evocation of the rare and tenuous sensations which compelled me to write a story that borders on the ridiculous and trite, I shall be satisfied.”

Nezval’s book still holds interest, but it is far more complex than the movie it would inspire. At times the book seems like it is intended to be comical, but then takes a twisted turn to the grotesque. It is filled with narratives of the Gothica tradition. It is also creepy in the use of eroticism. Unlike the book, the film adaptation forms an immediate tie to the Pohádka. This is the term for the Czechoslovakian concept of “fairy tales” which is more than a little different from our perceptions of parables. The Pohádka holds an important place in Czech culture and is often steeped in religious ideologies. From what I’ve been able to gather, the “Evil” characters are even more cruel and the “good” characters are quickly identified as victims who may or may not take vengeance. The victims may not even survive. I apologize if I offer a weak definition of Pohádka. Please feel free to leave a comment to correct or clarify my description.

Jaroslava Schallerová as Valerie, the dutiful granddaughter practices her piano lessons.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

The plot is deceptively simple: a beautiful 13 year old orphaned girl has her first period and, as she starts her path toward womanhood, she is confronted with a series of horrify and menacing people and situations.  These individuals and the circumstances in which she meets and experiences them is in a world that may or may not be strictly limited to her imagination. Poor Valerie seems to be living in a sort of disorienting dream state.

The film begins with a beautiful young girl napping in some form of surreal post-hippie gazebo. In the first of many “forms” a thief arrives. Dangling upside down he magically slips Valerie’s earrings off. She awakens just in time to see him running away. She runs after this thief to determine his identity and why he took her earrings. Valerie seems more intrigued than upset. As she roams about her village people began to take a grotesque formations. We have already met her grandmother. Grandma is strange from the first moment she enters our view.  Valerie seems to realize that something is not quite right with Grandma, but she doesn’t let on. Later as she floats in a small pool of water in her village’s fountain. As she prepares to emerge from the water, she becomes entranced by the water’s ripples. The thief returns. This time he magically slips her earrings back on. Seemingly content she begins her walk home.

A First Menses has never appeared this easy or so pretty as Valerie admires her blood drips on the daisies.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

In what must be the oddest cinematic depiction of a female’s first menstruation, Valerie notices drips of blood falling on the daisies over which she gently glides. She does not appear alarmed or upset. She simply marvels at the beauty of the red blood droplets on the flowers. She then dashes home to the safety of her pristinely white and innocent bedroom. She falls into a deep sleep. It is very hard to know if the rest of what we see is a nightmare or her reality.

Valeris is becoming suspect of her Grandmother.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

Her ghostly Grandmother begins to form into a sinister threat. Other females enter her world who seem to share her Grandmother’s face. And each new version of Granny offers a new level of terror. Her yearning to know who her parents were takes on an odd level of horror. As she looks through her Grandmother’s dining room window she sees a procession of interesting and happy-looking people. Her Grandmother states that these are the missionaries and that they will be providing sleeping quarters for one of the priests. As Valerie looks at the people she begins to notice a number of things that seem “off” but most noticeably is a horrific looking man hiding his face behind an equally disturbing mask.

Oh, not to worry. He is just a former lover of Grandma’s.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

This “man” looks more like a monster than a person. But Grandma dismisses Valerie’s concerns. There is no need to be alarmed. Granny reveals that this vile creature is just a former lover.

Valerie receives an invitation to a sermon for all of the village virgins. Valerie, being a virgin and a “good girl” goes to the sermon. It isn’t long before Valerie meets the man who took and returned her earrings. He proclaims his love and desire for Valerie. The physicality of this man has changed twice already. Valerie seems hesitant, but she clearly finds this form attractive. He warns that the monster she saw is not some just some former lover of her Grandmother but true Evil in human form.

Before long Valerie discovers that this monster might be her father. And that the boy who seeks her affections might be her brother. Or, her father. Identities change so often that we are more confused than Valerie. When she returns home where she is led to a secret chamber.  She is forced to witness her Grandmother in a series of sadistic and perverse sexual tortures for her “former lover” who now looks like a priest. From Valerie’s perspective it is hard to know if Granny is ‘getting off’ or in jeopardy. This sadistic priest is called Gracian. This vile priest proves to be one of the most cruel of Valerie’s world. When Valerie refuses to give in to his disgusting sexual advances which quickly turn to the threat of rape, he conspires to have the whole village turn against Valerie. He claims she is a witch entrancing everyone with her beauty. They attempt to burn her at the stake! Oh, poor Valerie! What is she to do?

Wait? Is this really my week of wonders or are all my friends and family trying to burn me at the stake??!? Oh, poor Valerie!
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

Fear not, despite the flames and rope — Valerie never seems too concerned with this situation. She makes fun of the priest and spectators who were once her friends and neighbors. She magically escapes the fate of the burning stake only to find more horrific challenges ahead. It would seem that her creepy old Grandma has made a pact with Evil. She will surrender Valerie to him in exchange for the return of her youth and beauty. It all gets quite upsetting for little Valerie. Upon learning of her Grandmother’s cruel pact with Evil, she discovers that her recently wedded neighbor has been assaulted by a vampire! But not before this adult neighbor attempts to seduce Valerie. As with most of Valerie’s interactions, she is just curious enough to allow an erotic opportunity to start, but then she immediately finds a way to break free of the erotic commitment. This is the case regarding what appears to lesbian sex is actually feeble attempt to suck Valeri’s blood for strength. Oddly, once Valerie manages to calm her “friend” they both seem to fall asleep. Or that is what appears to happen.

Oh, Valerie! Trust your instincts! Your Granny wants your youth and beauty!
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

Valerie’s week of “wonders” is really turned into a week of confusion. She soon learns that her parents are quite alive. When they show up, Valerie notices that her mother looks just like her Grandmother, her father looks just like her would-be suitor who she had originally thought might be her brother. And as for the Evil Monster, like the others who populate her world, he is continually vacillating his intentions.

For Valerie, evil becomes the one constant that is seemingly always wanting to kill, seduce or trap her.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Jan Curík | Cinematography

He is clearly some sort of vampire. But just as soon as he seems hellbent on sucking away all of her life’s blood, he is more interested in seducing her. Then, and without warning, he seems intent on raping her. Just when Valerie thinks she know what this Evil Monster wants, he offers to save her. Valerie is amongst every sort of imaginable identity of harm and danger. Possible familial connections turn toward incest, neighbors become enemies in the form of potential lovers or vampires or just plain old ghouls. Every one she encounters is loaded with vile intent.

All while filmmaker, Jaromil Jires, fills her world with symbolic colors, constantly alternating tones and metaphors of all shapes and sizes. From beginning to end the movie is a total trip into stunningly beautiful and ugly oddness. The strange appearances of the actors and Jan Curík’s stunning cinematography make it almost impossible to look away. Is should be noted that Ester Krumbachová served as the film’s Production Designer. Film buffs will note that she was also responsible for the look of Vera Chytilova’s groundbreaking 1966 film, Daisies. Her work here is actually more impressive.

Wow. This is some week alright…
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

I’ve essentially been making fun of this truly amazing movie. But it is clearly intended to make us laugh as much as it makes us squirm. Valerie and her Week of Wonders is a surreal view of the implications of pending womanhood. The most surprising thing is this film is made by a man based upon the book by another very famous male writer. So is this is a limited male perspective on the challenges of women? Being a male, I’m not qualified to answer. At times the film’s depiction of women is most certainly grounded in a male perspective. However much of what the film explores feels relevant to the all-too-real threats that constantly loom over women.

As soon as the lead character receives the biological sign that “womanhood” is shortly pending, everyone around her seems to shift in motivations and interests regarding Valerie’s identity. Men seem intent on either seducing, molesting or raping her. And if that is not the intended goal, the sexual is over-ruled to hurt, theft, torture or murder. The women in Valerie’s world change as well.  Women now seem to view her as a threat to their own individual identity and worth. Or they desire her in sexual ways that she can’t quite understand. She is an innocent, but those in her world no longer view her as such. She is now essentially “an object” on which they feel free to project love, lust, desire, anger, jealousy, pain, degradation, humiliation and even death. Valerie is no longer a sweet little girl. Valerie is now a potential prize or victim.

Beautiful Innocence is now an object available for the taking. Or so they think…
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

It is important to note that Valerie manages to escape and conquer all the challenges that come her way. She is no one’s victim. She sometimes falters as she attempts to understand or is sometimes even partially pulled toward some of the eroticisms — but those are fleeting moments. Valerie is steadfast in protecting herself. Her goal is to survive. And to survive with her dignity in place. Jaromil Jires offers one scene twice in the film: a small group of sensually enraptured women are engaging in an intense but somehow banal level of erotic play in a flowing stream of water. These women seem taken over by sensual delight in every aspect of themselves, each other, the sheer clothing that covers that wet bodies. They tease each other with soft kisses and even attempt to catch the fish swimming by to drop down their “barely-there” dresses and skin. We see Valerie walk past the stream twice from opposing sides of the stream. Our Valerie is clearly amused and passively interested in what these sultry lady-girls are up to. However, when one or more of these women notice Valerie and invite her to join them — Valerie becomes embarrassed or troubled and rushes her way past them. In between her her views of these lusty maidens, she runs across the river. As she crosses she notices the horror of one of the men from her world left for dead in the rapids of the stream that lead to these water vixens. Is there a connection to their perpetual state of wet eroticism and the dead man just a ways up stream?

Uh, oh. What fresh hell is this?
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

Sadly, Valerie’s “wonders” or “curiosities” is most likely going to be longer than a week.  This surreal dreamscape now might be her fate. It is hard to determine the intention of the film’s ending. As her horrifying and eroticall-fueled week comes to an end, all she wants to do is escape back to the safety of her pristinely innocent bedroom that has been bathed in warm white light. Her bedroom may be small, but it contains all she loves and treasures. True, Valerie awakes in her own bed. The problem is that her bed is now placed in the wilderness of her villages’ forrest. It is here we leave her. Alone in her bed surrounded by the natural elements of the forrest. The ending is as beautiful as it is disturbing.

The dilemma Jaromil Jires’ film presents for modern viewing is almost as challenging as Valerie’s week. The part of “Valerie” was played by a 6th grade girl, Jaroslava Schallerová. The movie has no problem in sexualizing this child. Filmed in what can best be described as “dewey erotic lighting” — the actress is often semi or nude and constantly being pulled into sexual intended kisses and caresses. The film veers into the realm of the inappropriate in the way this child actor was filmed.

Valerie in the privacy of her innocent room strikes an alluring pose.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

The current view of Film Scholars is that Jires did not film the girl as a “sex object” but more as a “symbol of innocence” trapped in a world filled with sexual desires and constant threat. This defense is weak. I’m not able to buy-in or agree with this attitude.

In defense, the film never even approaches the level of “pornography” or “soft core adult entertainment,” but it does go too far. The actress now in her early 50’s has always been proud of her fleeting moment of fame. Her mother was present for the entirety of the shoot. A fairly recent interview with the adult woman discusses some of these concerns. Adding to my own conundrum regarding the way a child was filmed is the fact that I still admire Louis Malle’s 1978’s Pretty Baby. Brooke Shields was 13 when she appeared as a prostitute and is filmed nude several times. Pretty Baby is highly regarded in the world of film. Because no male touches her while nude, it falls into the legal realm. Brooke Shields, a highly educated and clearly intelligent woman does not look back on the experience as negative. Both of these women appear to be healthy and unharmed.

Welcome to the adult world in which your earrings as well as your innocence are up for grabs.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

I still wonder if either Ms. Shields or Ms. Schallerová would allow their 12 or 13 year old daughter to be in these films.

Louis Malle’s 1978 film, Pretty Baby, created some controversy at the time it was released. But it never generated any legal doubts that Brooke Shields was exploited. It remains a potent film, that feels suspect.

I would not. I somehow suspect they would not either.  Audiences should be warned that this envelope is pushed. Though no where near to the point that Louis Malle pushed it in 1978.

Despite this ethically concern, I can’t help but love the artistry and the film itself. It is a highly effective surrealist attempt to capture both the human psychological and emotional experience of gaining a mature understanding of the world. A world that will very quickly become her/his own. In many respects the morphing of the familiar into the unknown or monstrous is resonating. Of course this lies at the heart of many fairy tales. And Valerie and her Week of Wonders never strays too far from a world that feels like that of twisted folklore. The film is edited and shot in ways that allow the viewer to constantly find new ideas or points with each viewing. It applies a circular sort of logic which invites multiple interpretations. Valerie and her Week of Wonders is a totally unique cinematic experience.

Now we fast-forward 44 years later and approximately 250 miles away to a modern-day village in Germany. Till Kleinert’s Der Samurai is a newer but equally puzzling re-examination of “identity” within a fairy tale-like world.

Trying to catch a wolf without harming it. But will that satisfy the deceptive wolf?
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

In his amazing and  jolting directorial debut, Til Kleinert is exploring deception in a more familiar setting. It also should be noted that there is a growing concern in parts of Germany regarding wolves. For decades the German Wolf was near the point of extinction. In the last decade these wolves have returned to the point of near over-population. This has generated valid concern for the towns that exist near forested areas. While much of our fears regarding wolves is out of proportion to reality, when they start roaming in packs or are hungry — the question of “proportional fear” becomes trivial. We catch a glimpse of the German village in which this story takes place at the beginning. The homes are gathered closely together as if in group formation. The modern windows have metallic-like shades that close from the inside. This is not uncommon in Europe, but to our eyes it seems kind of creepy. This village would appear to be formed out of a shared fear of the woods that surround it.

Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014

Our innocent hero appears to be a sincere, kind, gentle and lonely man. There are also hints that he hides his intentions very well. He seems almost stubbornly stern when it comes to expressing himself. Jakob may be young but he is a grown man. He is a cop. And he takes his job more than seriously. Jakob seems truly dedicated to protecting the law those who reside in his environment. His village is experiencing a series of minor but annoying mishaps relating to a wolf. It seems the filmmaker’s intent that we notice that this community’s shared fear is aimed at a wolf — there seems to be no clear articulation of the plural version of wolf. This appears to be a fear of one wolf. Jakob does not seem to fear the wolf like his village. He seems more concerned about trying to stop the wolf from bothering the villagers.  We first see him tying up sheer-thin bags of bloody raw meat from low hanging branches to allow easy access. Jakob appears to hope that these bags will satisfy the wolf and prevent it from lurking out into the village.  Or not? We are presented with an unanswered question regarding our hero’s actions. Is this an attempt to keep the wolf out of the village or is this merely an attempt to feed the wolf.

Jakob’s concerns relating to this wolf are very different than his fellow residents. The threat of this wolf is taking on a strange level of horror. Knocking over outdoor trash containers and the alarmed barking of family dogs is resulting in a seemingly illogical reaction. Jakob not only seems perplexed by the level of fear this wolf is causing, he is at a loss at just how concerned everyone seems to be. Michel Diercks plays Jakob with a cautious and thoughtful performance. Diereses’ performance seems to hint at something that the viewer can’t quite understand. His concern for the wolf’s safety seems as odd as the villagers fear. Kleinert frames his story within the context of being afraid of something “out there” that is not only on the prowl but poised for menace.

Something is out there. Just beyond the trees. Is it a wolf? A werewolf or something altogether different?
Der Samuari
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

One evening as Jakob starts to leave the sherif office for home,  he discovers a package delivered to his attention.  The package is actually addressed to “Lonely Wolf.” And so the tale begins. Jacob receives a phone call. A whiskey and cigarette damaged female voice advises him of the address to which he needs to deliver the package. It is difficult to articulate why the phone call is so erie. Part of it is in the delivery of what is said and the other part is the way in which Jacob reacts. As we hear the caller’s voice it is clear that she is flirting, but also daring the cop to follow her directions. The package is for her and she strongly urges that he must deliver it to her. There is a tinge of cruelty in her chuckle as she provides her address.

Jacob seems more curious than concerned. It is a disturbing moment in a horror film that very quickly pushes the boundaries of tension to surprising level of creepy horror. As Jakob approaches the dilapidated old cottage occupying carrying the thin long package which he has been “advised” to deliver, a unexpected unease fills us. You don’t want Jacob to go in. You want him to call for ‘back-up.’ The cottage not only looks sinister, it feels sinister. Carrying the box up the seemingly grimly rotted stairs he soon meets the owner of the voice that called him. Sitting crouched in front of an old dresser mirror, her face is hidden. It is clear that she has been applying a great deal of make-up. An abandoned doll hangs by a noose. Pictures from fashion magazines hang around this obviously well muscled person. The pages have been defaced and are fading away. The room is damaged from years of neglect and water damage. It is impossible not to note that what appears to have been yellow wallpaper has been illogically covered with streaks of red. Blood red.

Pit Bukowski is getting ready to really give the villagers something to panic about…
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

It is difficult to pin-down what it is about this movie that is so unnerving. The two lead actors are great. The film is incredibly well styled. But Till Kleinert finds a way to really get under our skins. The villagers’ fear is not misplaced. Indeed, there is something waiting in the woods to roam out after sunset to wreck havoc upon their quiet little village. But is it not the wolf they have imagined. This wolf is a man made-up and wearing an elegant sort of long slip. The true object of fear is a homicidal and feral transvestite. As this visage pulls the huge samurai sword from Jakob’s package, we instantly know that this “something” is no longer happy merely causing havoc and generating this mini-societal fears.  This is our wolf and it has a blood-lust of epic proportion. If you are thinking this subversion of fairy tale is mired in what can easily issue a reaction of concern, you are correct. Only the most homophobic of viewers will not feel a pang of “Political Incorrectness” warning flags poking at them from the screen. Before the audience has a chance to become offense, Kleinert’s film literally jumps into a frantic level of strange and undeniably fascinating horror film.

Jakob is fully aware of the potential for danger as this almost feral, androgynous and seductive figure carefully caresses her new weapon. He tries to talk this self-proclaimed Samurai out of jumping out of the house. Jakob attempts to apply logic that somehow feels confused. Der samurai seems to take on a sort of perverse beauty in his elegant white slip as well as a sense of supernatural strength. She has no time or interest in listening to Jakob’s concern and protests. She has an axe to grind with this tiny village cloaked away within the German forests. She is out for vengeance and blood.

Pit Bukowski as Der Samurai who takes no prisoners.
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

As tensions mounts so do the ever expanding Surrealist stylings. Der Samurai is almost unrelenting in generating our guilt and fear. And while the gore goes to extremes, it is intentionally unreal. Jakob follows this raging “wolf” down deserted streets filled with her violent vengeance. Everything has been slashed and torn up. And Jacob has forgotten his gun. It gradually becomes clear that the kindly Jakob is not as much “hunting” this wolf down, he is starting to encage in a grim sort of dance. This is both figurative and literal.

Facing the werewolf or an identity long repressed? Or maybe not.
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography| Martin Hanslmayr

As we follow this pursuit or dance, more and more of the the villagers are being laid to brutal waste. It may be silly and even look “unreal” but Der Samurai has entered into a truly disturbing frenzy. To be honest, there were more than a few times I had to ask myself, “Did that just happen?” And just as the audience thinks that it has got the whole thing figured out, Till Kleinert turns it all around again. This demented twist on the “fairy” tale continues to escalate along with our unease and fear. Jakob has no choice. He must stop this dance and slay this maniacal “wolf” in tranny clothing. As he approaches to to take this mythical evil creature down, we discover that Der Samurai has shed the costume. Ravenously eating the contents Jakob’s blood-drenched meat bag, Der Samurai is nude. It is a deliberate choice that Kleinert shows that our nude monster is now packing more than a huge sword. His “excitement” has swelled to form the potential for a whole other type of “swordplay”. This is only one of many darkly comic and inappropriate moments in the movie. Jakob is clearly more afraid of a penis erection than a samurai sword or the muscular threat of this wolf who we now know was only hiding in monster’s clothing. This is a problematically loaded bit of metaphor.

Feeding the wolf or attempting to put out the fire with gasoline. It doesn’t matter. Der Samurai is ready to fight our hero.
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

Jakob would at first seem to want to repress or stifle the beast that threatens his village. But in the end he must face the evil and destroy it. Once again a sort of circular logic is displayed. We do not know where this tale has taken us. The final shot of the film is as confusing as it is entertaining. The grande finale is really as surprising as it is awesome. As Jakob appears to go on full attack of the monster terrorizing the quiet village, the musical score gives sway to a silly and  diametrically opposed pop song by The Ark. Suddenly Der Samurai slips into a sort of parody of 1980’s Rambo-like hero anthem. On paper is seems like a truly ludicrous idea, but in practice it is a magical way to relieve the audience tension and remind us that we are seeing a sort of fairy tale. The lessons of which only really reveal themselves after we achieve some distance from the work. Is there actually a wolf at all? Is our “hero” also our “monster?” It is unclear. Once again the Surrealistic circular logic prevents an established answer. However one very realistic idea is formed: When a society oppresses the individual and that individual gives in and represses their own identity — the results can be catastrophic. Eventually the needs of the “self” must be addressed in one way or another. More than likely the self will assert in a skewed ideology that not only matches the societal ideology, but surpasses it.

Slaying the Beast of the Village? Or not?
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

Der Samurai is wide open for interpretation. I’ve heard and read it described as “Queer Surrealist Horror” to a “perverse reworking of ‘The Big Bad Wolf.'” I do not agree with either label. This is a sleek and effective spin on folklore presented in both a Surrealist and Absurdist way. ,While Til Kleinert is willing to risk his metaphor and parable being misunderstood as “self-loathing” or “homophobic” or “misogynistic,” it clearly is not. Kleinert is willing to trust the intelligence of his audience to understand the film. This film is far too smart, polished and subversively rebellious to be considered as inappropriate art or offensive. This is a spin on a fairy tale and folklore is taken to an unexpected place. It is a thrilling and unforgettable film. Kudos to ArtSploitation for releasing it via VOD, DVD and Blu-ray. The Artsploitation label usually restricts itself to gore horror of the lowest denominator, but in this case they have helped secure the release of a valuable work of Art Horror.

One thing is for sure: There is ‘something’ on both sides of that window. And neither offer a ‘happy ever after’
Der Samurai
Till Kleinert, 2014
Cinematography | Martin Hanslmayr

Like Valerie and her Week of Wonders, Der Samurai is more of an experience than a typical narrative film. It washes over you.  You are left both exhilarated and confused. Both of these film present themselves with a non verbalized, “Once upon a time…” and bring us to the conclusions that while the world offers us “choices” they are seldom easy to chose. To deny the reality of the deceptions that hide along our life paths is not only problematic — it is dangerous.

And like most fairy tales, these are not for children. In truth, the origins of fairy tales and folklore were really simple ways to explain the complexities of human existence and survival. These parables attempted to explain what is often unexplainable.

At the end of a journey, we may find our way back to bed. But our bed has been moved to a place than can offer no happy ending or safety.  More to the point: there is no such thing as a “happily ever after.”

Fairy tales do not always offer happy endings. When viewed as initially intended, there was never such a thing as Happily Ever After.
Valerie and her Week of Wonders
Jaromil Jires, 1970
Cinematography | Jan Curík

FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

I was well acquainted with Jason Banker’s fist film, Toad Road. I love his first film. If you have not seen it, seek it out. Toad Road is streaming via Netflix and AmazonPrime. So I was excited when I had a rare opportunity to see his second and latest movie, Felt, last year. At that time Felt had only had two official screenings. I had no idea regarding the subject of the film when I first saw it.  Felt was so such a jolt of the senses my jaw had fallen leaving my mouth open in a mixed state of awe, confusion and shock. I knew I liked Banker’s new film, but it filled my head with so many ideas, challenged my personal ideas of cinematic reality and was deeply unsettled. I was unable to form a clear opinion to write anything that would matter. This didn’t thrill the individuals who had asked me to write a summary and review. As promotion for the film began I avoided reading any reviews or much in the way of commentary. Aside from a couple of interviews with Jason Banker, I only watched the two trailers.

It would be June of 2015  before Felt would reach San Francisco’s Roxy Cinema. I do not enjoy The Roxy. I’m sorry. I just don’t like seeing movies there.

The Roxy Movie Theatre is a historical building. It is actually the second oldest continuously operating movie theater in the country. The Roxy is an odd experience within and of itself. No matter how hard the owners and the city have tried, years of decay have created an odd atmosphere. There are two screens. One of the screens is sort of disconnected from the other. It almost feels like an after thought from the late 1970’s or the early 1980’s. I’ve never had an enjoyable viewing experience there. I think this is because of all our cinemas, The Roxy tends to attract all groups of The San Francisco Cinematic Audience under one roof.   The San Francisco Cinematic Audience can be a strange mix and one is most likely to encounter it at The Roxy. Situated in the prime real estate of The Mission it is a natural magnet. I break down the SF Cinematic Audience into 3 stereo types:  Hardcore Film Art Cinephiles, SF Hipsters and Fringe Art Eccentrics. Reactions and interactions tend to be “extreme” or “muted dissonance” —  you never quite know what to expect. The one thing you can expect if you see a intense, controversial or polarizing work of art at The Roxy you can anticipate debates and even arguments as you make your way back to Mission Street.

As an example, I attended a screening of Christophe Honoré controversial 2004 film, Ma Mere, at The Roxy.

Ma Mere
Isabelle Huppert
Christophe Honoré, 2005

It was not even a new film. I has seen several years earlier at another old cinema which is now long gone and forgotten. Ma Mere is a challenging and polarizing movie on its own without the added projection of our SF Audience baggage. The theatre was not full. The audience seemed to have an equal number of men to women. All of my Roxy stereotypes were present. Cinephiles, Hipsters and Eccentrics were sharing the space.  The entire audience sat in silence as the credits rolled. I was ready to leave, but I didn’t want to be lectured. So I sat. No one stood up or shuffled in their seats. It was total silence. And then it happened. A long and exaggerated “hiss” was aimed at the screen. Then two more “hissers” joined in.

This is the dreaded San Francisco Hiss. A prime example of our city’s strange sense of entitlement that often “requires” the SF individual to feel the need to hiss at movies, performers or artists if their viewpoints do not align with his/her own. It is as annoying as it is funny. But make no mistake, The San Francisco Hiss is quite serious in intend. It carries more impact here than a “Boo” or a tossed cup. The tricky thing about The San Francisco Hiss is that it tends to set off a chain reaction of one sort or another. I often feel like my fellow citizens feel that his/her own individual opinion is far more important than any other. All one needs to do is ride a MUNI bus from the beach to Union Square to see these clashing “entitlements” go to battle. This often evolves into full-on-rage fueled rants. Inevitably someone is asked to exit the bus. The bus driver must firmly stand his/her ground. The bus stops. It will not move until the one or two individuals who have gone too far step out. Traffic jam ensues. Everyone is late.

Welcome to The New French Extreme
Ma Mere
Louis Garrel and Isabell Huppert
Christophe Honoré, 2004

As one would expect this “hiss” aimed at Ma Mere created anger toward the hissers. By the time the lights came up a highly encaged debate was in full tilt boogie. The hissers were  white male hipsters. Of the five annoyed hiss protestors were two females of the Cinephile type, one male of the Team Eccentric and the other was a woman of the Hipster variety. It was the only screening of the day. I sat and listened in. And I took notes.

“You’ve no right to ruin the experience for the rest of us!’

“Dude! It was the credits!”

“This is an important film! You are both too ignorant to understand it!”

“Oh I think we know pornography when we see it!”

“Fuck you!”

“No Fuck you!”

At this point it was best to quietly walk past them as the poor Manager (of Team Cinephile) was about to attempt to guide the argument out to The Mission. I’m sure everyone made it out fine. It is just the way it tends to be when you go to The Roxy. Especially if it is the last evening screening.

If Ma Mere is polarizing, I’m not sure where this would leave Felt. Jason Banker’s film is beyond “polarizing” — it is an intentional and intense provocation. I decided I would never get to see Felt on a big screen.

I made the right decision. A pal emailed me of his experience at The Roxy after watching Felt. The film profoundly disturbed him. The mixture of hissing and shhh’ing made him leave before the credits were done. As he walked back out to the reality of Mission Street, he noticed three women gathered together discussing the movie. I asked him of which “group” they were members. He was not sure, but he guessed they were fellow Art House Cinephiles. Because of the nature of the film he had just seen he was hesitant to approach these three women who were all hugging themselves. He guessed that all three women were probably somewhere between the ages of 24 and 28. He was most definitely sure that all three of these women were intelligent, cool and “casually” beautiful. My friend put his hands deep into his hoodie’s pockets and asked, “So, how do you all feel about ‘Felt‘?”

Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Luckily none were offended. He told them about a friend of his having already seen Felt (that would be me) and that I had yet to be able to articulate an opinion. All three women agreed. Felt had left them with a great many mixed emotions. As he prepared to walk away one of the women volunteered, “It’s so weird I hardly ever allow myself to think about it. But I’m always so uncomfortable when I’m in a room with more than a few men.” The other two women nodded in agreement, but none could articulate why. He agreed and mentioned that he got a sense of that feeling in the movie, but he couldn’t find the words. No wanting to seem “lame” he said he thought the movie offered a lot of ideas but didn’t clearly answer why women feel so threatened by men. Mistake.

He wished them a good evening and started walking away and the more assertive of the women called out to him, “Actually, it was in that movie.” The reason is actually very clear in Jason Banker’s movie.

Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Felt became available for purchase as VOD via iTunes this week. I bought a copy and watched it again.

I hit the Internet and read opinion from Film Critics, fellow bloggers, Letterbox and the fun world of IMDB user postings. Film critics are divided when it comes to Felt. What I find interesting about The Film Critic Response is the information one discovers by reading between their lines. The majority of the reviews seem to be afraid to either fully dismiss or fully praise Felt.

Ben Kenigsberg’s New York Times review stuck me as being particularly off-mark. Due to The Times recent policy change related to which films are reviewed, it says a lot that they opted to even review Felt. Their current logic in what films they will review and which films they will not review is more than a little confused, but I am impressed that Felt was considered.

Amy Everson
Super Hero?
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Kenigsberg summed up Felt, “Reading about the filmmakers’ intentions is more rewarding than watching the results.”  Meaning that The New York Times “felt” that Felt‘s cinematic intention had to be praised, but this critic seemed to need to find something about Jason Banker’s movie that would allow him not to praise the over-all result. I write this because Kenigsberg’s deconstruction of Felt feels almost painfully weak. He assigns a generally unfavorable review by taking aim at Banker’s “ambiguities.” Mr. Kenigsberg  even goes so far as to challenge the title of the film. He expressed confusion about whether he should view the title as a noun or a verb. The title is no riddle. There is nothing “ambiguous” about it. A sixth grade child would be able to understand that the title of this movie is intentionally both a noun and a verb. Felt is filled with ambiguities. The title is not one of them. Felt‘s ambiguities are intentional. Even if an individual dislikes the film, he/she will note the the “ambiguities” are a major reason that the film holds interest. The “unstated” within Banker’s Felt is what makes it a true cinematic experience.

As I read Ben Kenigsberg’s review two points emerged:

1. It is not the ambiguity that bothers him, his real issue is the uncomfortable cultural statement Felt asserts.

2. He doesn’t care for Amy Everson’s artwork. He actually seems to hate it. It disturbs him.

Everything about Jason Banker’s Felt is intended to unsettle, uncomforted, disturb and it requires both women and men to think about the ways in which we play into a system not of our own design. What the film presents is not a new problem. It is both a cultural and societal issue that has become so deeply entrenched that a jolt is needed to wake people up. I’m not trying to state that a movie is going to change anything, but this film just might be a catalyst for many to reconsider how they interact with the opposite sex.

Please note: I’ve nothing against Ben Kenigssberg. I think he is a sound, educated and professional Film Critic. His intelligence shines, but if he dislikes Felt he has failed to actually defend his position. I wanted to highlight his review because he is a member of a team of film critics who I admire. Unfortunately, he is one of many who have chosen to take the “safest” route to disregard this film. Most of these “safe-routed” dismissals fail to point out any credible reason to dislike the film. In fact the majority of bad reviews are not hinged on any real merit.

Only a handful of the bad reviews took a firm ground.

A Borrowed Gender
Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Marjorie Baumgarten of The Austin Chronicle is reasonable in her dismissal of Felt. While she has no problem admitting to the film’s intended provocation and import of ideas, she found the movie to be stylized in a manner too obvious for her taste. There were also a couple of Film Critics who saw the potential of a great film, but disliked Jason Banker’s choice of improvisational dialogue. I don’t agree with either viewpoints, but I can understand these opinions. This is logical film criticism. It is also the sort of criticism that often met John Cassavetes. None of his films were actually “improvised” but they all felt like it. And Cassavetes never “rushed” the pace of a movie. Many critics disliked a great deal of his work. But those who were brave enough to embrace it bear out the winners in Film Theory. You would be hard pressed to find a Film Critic who would trash a Cassavetes film now. Robert Altman also received a number of negative reviews in his day for many of the same reasons.

Film Critic, Jenni Miller of A/V Club gave Felt a positive review. Her summation is that Jason Banker’s movie might be a little too close to the bone to enjoy, but this is outweighed by the significance of what is being conveyed. Miller doesn’t need to “enjoy” a movie to see its value. When she writes that Felt “sneaks up on you and lingers…”

Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

she is able to state the power of the film. In the end she assigns a “B” rating, but it seems given with a firm warning that this was no fun for her — and it may be equally un-fun for you.

Of the few truly positive reviews Felt received, The Village Voice‘s Diana Clarke actually formulates her words in the way I so wish I could formulate my own.

Her review can be found here: http://www.villagevoice.com/film/in-daring-indie-felt-a-young-woman-seizes-rich-dudes-masculinity-7290019

Andrew O’Hehir of Salan.com is one of the few critics who liked the film. He clearly put some thought into what he wrote. Of course, this is his job. He also makes a potent reference to recent mainstream movies that almost seem to celebrate Rape Culture. Like Ted 2. I was particularly impressed when I saw that Rotten Tomatoes chose this O’Hehir quote: “Some viewers will no doubt find “Felt” maddening because it never answers seemingly crucial plot questions that a normal movie or TV show would feel compelled to clear up. That ambiguity is precisely the source of its power, and its cinematic quality.”

Ben Kenigssberg, can you hear Andrew O’Hehir? This is Film Theory 101. Ouch. Maybe I am picking on Ben. I’m sorry.

If any of the Film Critics I know happen to read this, please start assigning a rating to your reviews. It sucks, but this is now a full world of Film by Consensus. Rotten Tomatoes is assigning their own rating to many of your reviews. And they are not accurate most of the time. Take head of The New York Times and A/V Club. Do not let RT decide the rating of your review.

Playing with fire…
Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

The most disturbing thing I noticed regarding The Public Reaction was the number of women who were angered by not only Banker’s film but by the idea of Feminism itself. There are a lot of women out there who view Amy Everson as the enemy. This caught me off guard. It doesn’t surprise me that a number of “dudes” out there hate the movie. It would also not surprise me if a good number of women disliked it. Art is subjective. And Film Art this provocative is not always going to win everyone’s heart. But I am shocked at the level of female anger toward Feminism. I don’t get it. But then, I am puzzled by hate in general. It is so very extreme. The level of hate “out there” is staggering, but the level of misogyny and self-loathing is even more horrifying.

Jason Banker, the filmmaker who made the most out of a tragic and senseless tragedy into a surrealistic experimental horror film we know to be Toad Road, has now matured into a far more self-assured Film Artist. A potent Cinematographer as well, Banker brings a great deal of talent to the table. Felt came about thanks to accidental meeting between Amy Everson and Banker. During a visit to San Francisco, Everson caught Banker’s attention because of her playful yet aggressive demeanor — and the fact that she was running around the city in one of her provocative costumes.  As I understand it, Everson showed her artwork to Banker. The work he first saw was all contained in her bedroom. A hybrid of “Sesame Street” kitsch intertwined with sex toys, phallic symbols, dildos, vaginas, assholes and soft doll-like re-enactments of menace. All or much of the work utilizing felt as a key media. Amy Everson is brilliantly talented, fearless and a provocateur. Even the seemingly most innocent creation achieves a vaguely erotic danger.

Art by Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Her work is often tinged with a twisted sort of humor and some of it is just deeply disturbing.

Although, I share my life with a San Francisco artist and know a good many, I’ve only heard/read her name a couple of times. There is a whole other aspect to her work which incorporates Performance Art with her costume creations. Jason Banker was equally impressed as he was disturbed. It was from this jumping point that the two artists began to collaborate toward what would become Felt.

Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

If you are interested in Amy Everson’s art, a link to her website is below. She is a completely unique and important voice. Check it out, but please don’t “flame” her. It takes a whole lot of guts to lay your soul out for all to see. As I look at her work, it seems to me she is sharing some very intensely intimate glimpses into her being. I’m sure the recent release of Felt has been more than a bit challenging. Though, I hope it has been rewarding.

http://www.amyeverson.com

And now, my opinion/review for Felt:

Jason Banker’s film begins with a painfully thin young adult woman who appears to have fallen into a deep depression. We first hear her voice in the form of narration. Her voice sounds a bit like “a little girl” yet what her voice delivers is a firm thud of certainty  “My life is a fucking nightmare.” BAM! It is this line that propels us forward into not only into the film, but her mind.

Amy Everson is more than the film’s lead actor. She also shares “co-writing” credit with Jason Banker.  And she is doing more than playing a character, the film’s core ideas are based not only on her artwork, but certain aspects of her  personality. Amy Everson is playing a “fictionalized” version of herself. While it is sometimes clear she is not a trained actor, she carries a great deal of charisma. You want to watch and understand this character. You want to try and like her.

“My life is a fucking nightmare.”
Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Felt‘s Amy has survived some form of sexual abuse. The actual abuse is never stated or confirmed, but it seems obvious. Her friends want to help her, but are growing weary of her artistic and creative coping skills. Not only have these coping skills become isolating, they seem to have opened some dark portal into which she falling. These pieces of art and the costumes she creates are disturbing, provocative and somehow menacing and they are fusing into her identity. She has become dazed, lonely and nihilistically numb. Amy’s costumes allowed her to access inner-strength. Their designed to not only give her a sense of worth and purpose, it feels as if they were initially conceived to act as healing tools with which she might be able to push away her fears of men.

“Amy” has found a way to funnel her anger and fears through her art. But now, these subversively-twisted anatomically-“correct” costumes offer no comfort. By the time we enter her story what were once empowering tools for healing have turned against her as well as against others. She has taken on an inappropriate role of “protector” for her friends from the men in their lives. Her artistic expression of comfort are turning into a weapon. Her isolation within these “armors” made of felt and other materials is starting to fuel a fantastical idea which is taking over her reality. She has taken to wearing her costumes beneath her street clothing. She wanders off into private corners of nature within the Bay Area and Redwood forests where she can strip down and assert her power with a wooden sword. While on a walk with a girlfriend, the friend tries to encage Amy in a conversation about her friends’ concerns.

“You have to be very delicate…”
Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

But Amy has already put on her mask and just as quickly has unzipped her pants to brandish her swollen plastic penis. Her friend tries to reason with Amy to no avail. All her friend can do is force her keep her clothes before she can make a break and run away. Before she rushes off Amy shares an alarmingly sincere desire for the two of them to become “Super Heroes” committed on seeking vengeance against all the predators society calls men.

Jason Banker is very careful to limit the information we receive and how we receive it. At times Felt may not be “linear.” Other times it could be argued that what we see may only be within the confines of Amy’s damaged psyche.  This is not a flaw. This is a smart move on Banker’s part. It allows the audience to form individual conclusions and to assess the situations as they unfold. We see Amy in several scenes with single men of her own age. In one scene she is alone with an ill-advised OKCupid Match-Up from Hell. Other scenes she shares these experiences with her girlfriends. These scenes of interaction with ‘normal’ men feel so real it almost hurts to watch. Each interaction reveals aspects of male behavior about, toward and with women that we might not always pick up were it not for Banker’s camera. The truth is these scenes feel “real” and it is alarming to note the way the men attempt to manipulate, control and harass the women. What might feel “normal” is now unsettling. The men Amy meets are dismissive, aggressive, inappropriate and passively menacing. If there is even an initial “friendliness,” it quickly feels false.

Is this hope?
Amy Everson / Kentucker Audley
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

In another scene she meets her best friend’s new boyfriend. Amy is nervous and is unable to adequately hid her insecurity. Her friend’s boyfriend immediately chooses to make fun of her and insinuates that she is nothing more than a spoiled entitled bitch. A few minutes later the boyfriend is pissed as Amy’s girlfriend chides him for being mean to her best friend. His response is in the form of humor. He disagrees. He wants to know why his girlfriend is friends with such a “freak” and he teasingly wraps his hand around her neck warning her to not to hang out crazy “bitches.” Amy immediately attempts to attack him for threatening her friend. This new boyfriend chooses to meet her aggression with an even stronger level of anger and threat. To him, Amy is a “crazy bitch” and he informs her that just because she is a “girl” will not prevent him from taking her down.

Later, her girlfriends sit down with her. One attempts to “lay hands” on her with a prayer for healing. Once again they try to reason her to understand that these men are “not all that bad” — they just want sex. But the hope is that they might want more down the road. Their intervention backfires on them as Amy stays calm and points out the obvious. Her girlfriends seem to be “aware” of the cruel, debasing and threatening attitude. It appears it is easier to just “accept” this cultural misogyny. Amy’s more well-adjusted and functioning friends have and are assimilating into “Rape Culture.”

Kentucker Audley plays “Kenny.” Kenny’s arrival into Amy’s life comes with tenderness, understanding and concern. He comforts her. He cares about her. He is able to show that he is impressed with her art while also expressing sadness for whatever pain life has given her. Kenny never does this in a patronizing way. He truly appreciates her artistry and her.  When she speaks to him he actually listens. Eventually, Amy is not threatened by Kenny. She seems to be healing as she discovers that she can be herself with him and he offers no judgement. He offers no threat. Kenny seems to offer only love.

Amy Everson and Kentucker Audley
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

It is never clear if Amy and Kenny have consummated their relationship. Just as it seems we might be given this information regarding their romance, we discover that Kenny is not what he seems. It is unclear, but he has not been deceptive with Amy. When he attempts to open up and discuss this deception, it is too late.  Amy’s discovery of Kenny’s “deception” alters not only her perception of him. It seems to send her off-the-rails of sanity. And everything Amy shifts. Every little gesture seems to convey something different than before. We see everything about her change.

As she leads the audience into an act of horrific violence, it is not a surprise. Everything seems to be pointing to something horrible, but witnessing it is profoundly unsettling.

Playing ‘Dress Up’
Amy Everson / Kentucker Audley
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

Jason Banker’s film leaves the audience in a state of shock that is not scary. It is far more serious. We are left adrift in Amy’s madness. The “victim” has become an even worse “victimizer.” It brings us back to a scene in which she explains to Kenny that most forms of rape “are perpetuated by people you know and trust.”

There is no way Kenny would have interpreted Amy’s comment as a warning. It might not have even been clear to her.  Amy’s decision is not rational. It is insane.

Provocative, disturbing, challenging, oddly beautiful and repulsively ugly, Felt is one of the clearest articulations of our culture’s continuing escalation of violence against women. “Rape Culture” is not some “hip” catch-phrase. It is a sad reality in which many of us play without even realizing. Jason Banker has crafted a firm depiction of cultural misogyny that never seems to wain. He has done so within the framework of Art Horror. The artistic mastery of this film can’t be denied.

Into the woods…
Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

The implications of Felt‘s result leave us with one question:

How does a sexual assault victim heal in a world that almost seems to support the assault?

Amy Everson
FELT
Jason Banker, 2015

And for those who thought Jason Banker’s feature film directorial debut, Toad Road, was an accident or a “one hit” cinematic wonder, Felt blows any doubt of possessing an important cinematic filmmaker out the window.  This Film Artist is not limited in his scope of obtaining  understanding from more than one perspective. This is a filmmaker to watch.

matty stanfield, 7.22.2015

Within the first minute of Jonathan Demme’s 1998 film, Beloved, we are told that we are entering a cold and lonely house in 1865 Ohio. As Tak Fukimoto’s careful camera approaches this odd house we already know that The Civil War has only just ended and the legal abolishment of slavery is most likely only started to sink into the American culture. Barely two more minutes pass before we become aware that something paranormal is threatening this newly-freed African-American household.  Is it demonic? Is it a menacing ghost? It doesn’t take long before this dangerous force is openly discussed. The truly jolting aspect of these brief discussions is the passive manner in which the topics are engaged.

The film’s main character seems to be simultaneously depressed and almost relieved that her two young sons have just runaway. It is only a brief after thought that Sethe might have been able to hang on to her sons if she had made more of an “effort.” She ponders that maybe if she had moved her fatherless family to a different house or an entirely different place things might have worked out or be better. An old woman who we understand to be Sethe’s mother-in-law and grandmother to Sethe’s children, shakes her head and says “What’d be the point? Not a house in the country ain’t packed to the rafters with some dead Negro’s grief. We lucky our ghost is a baby. My husband spirit come back? Or yours? Don’t talk to me! You lucky. You got one child left, still pullin at your skirts. Be thankful.”

Within another few minutes the story travels several years in time. Baby Suggs, the wise mother-in-law, has died and Sethe’s daughter, Denver, has grown into a sad young woman. A weary but upbeat man shows up at the house. This is clearly an old friend. After the two friends catch-up we can see that there is a vaguely shared erotically loving connection here. Sethe leads her old friend, Paul D, into her dilapidated, creepy-looking old house. Barely into the house Paul D stops. Looking down the Sethe’s hallway he becomes terrorfied.

“Good God! What kind of evil you got in there?”

“It’s not evil..It’s just… It’s just sad. Come on. Just step through.”

Beloved
Oprah Winfrey
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

Oprah Winfrey’s Sethe’s guidance is given to Danny Glover’s Paul D,  but it also also seems as if the audience is invited to enter into this home of profound loneliness, sadness, fear and hidden horrors.  Beloved is challenging, complex, graphically violent and viscerally disturbing film. Beloved is also almost as difficult to approach from a film criticism angle. Jonathan Demme’s movie, like it’s source novel is a masterful, shocking and cogently artistic work. It seems almost impossible that a white male filmmaker created this largely experimental neo-gothic and Feminist examination. It is a profound work, but the use of “horror” as metaphor sometimes creates results that seem almost oppositional to Toni Morrison’s brilliant and Pulitzer Price winning 1987 novel. It is hard to miss the allegory and metaphor contained within the pages of her book. The crucial ideas are not always so clear in the film adaptation.

As Alan A. Stone noted in his 1999 article in The Boston Review titled Oprah’s Nightmare, the esteemed and amazing media mogul “wanted Beloved to be an experience, not just entertainment. The film, like Toni Morrison’s novel, was meant to answer the question, what was it like to be a slave? In answering it, Morrison makes her readers feel, perhaps for the first time, the extraordinary psychological damage done by slavery. There is, says one of her characters, “a kind of madness that keeps one from going mad.”  

With the gift of close to 20 years hindsight, it is clear that Oprah Winfrey’s decade long desire to bring Morrision’s book to the screen is largely successful. Sometimes the movie’s success is achieved in spite of itself. No doubt, the idea of translating this book into a movie was more than a daunting task. This was a task that Winfrey was more than thrilled to pursue, but it was not just from her love of Toni Morrison and her book that drove her to get this epic film made — it was even more than passion. If you should ever read Oprah Winfrey’s book, Journey to Beloved, you will discover that Winfrey viewed the task as a personal requirement and unrelenting sense of duty. Toni Morrison’s novel is more than just an important literary masterpiece.

Epigraph:
“I will call them ‘my people’ who are not my people; and I will call her ‘my loved one’ who is not my loved one,”
Romans 9:25
Dedicated to the Africans and their descendants who died as a result of the Atlantic slave trade.”
Beloved
by Toni Morrison, 1987

Toni Morrison’s novel is a vital depiction of not only the abhorrent and almost unimaginable horror of slavery — it is a work that strives to remind readers that while slavery might have been abolished in 1865, it still looms as more than just a lingering injustice. The United States legalized slavery of the past remains as a looming shadow of an entire race of people. Going even deeper, Toni Morrison’s novel ties the history of slavery accurately to the dynamics that run through African-Americans lives. Dynamics and understandings of faith, family, fatherhood and motherhood continue to be challenged by the remaining shared pain of a past that is horrifyingly still clutching onto the present.

Toni Morrison’s Beloved is also inspired by Margaret Garner, a Pre-Civil War era slave who opted to kill her two-year-old daughter to save her from suffering the fate of slavery. This act shocked not only our nation but the world.

From the Cincinnati Gazette.
June 29, 1856

A famous trial ensued in which Garner was tried for murder. For those of you who may not have studied too much regarding the atrocity of our country’s Slave Trade and Slavery — it is important to note that it was far more common for mother’s to kill their children than is usually discussed. It was a sad reality and often hidden from view in more ways than one. However,  Margaret Garner was on the run from Slavery and her owners when her family was pushed into a small home as US Marshals surrounded to take them back into custody when she killed her daughter. This practice of filicide was suddenly thrust into public-awareness.

At the trial, Lucy Stone, an important American Abolitionist and Suffragist, took the stand to defend Garner. Not one to play into societal or cultural restraints of her time — Lucy Stone’s defense of Garner was based on a then very real but “unspoken” sexual “use” or more accurately “abuse” of white male slave owners toward their female slaves.

Unfathomable human cruelty — except it not only happened. It was accepted.
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

Something that had been a painful day-to-day existence for Margaret Garner. The concept of The Maternal has been perversely changed within the minds of many female slaves. Most tragically, it is not hard to understand how and why this happened.

Lucy Stone pulled no punch when she reminded everyone present (must of whom were demanding Garner’s execution) that the faces of Garner’s children shared as much in common with Garner’s white owner as they did with their mother. Stone then publicly and famously stated:

“The faded faces of the Negro children tell too plainly to what degradation the female slaves submit. Rather than give her daughter to that life, she killed it. If in her deep maternal love she felt the impulse to send her child back to God, to save it from coming woe, who shall say she had no right not to do so?”

Oprah Winfrey
on set of Beloved
Photograph | Ken Regan

Oprah Winfrey and her fellow filmmakers may have stumbled a bit in capturing Toni Morrison’s novel, but it is far too incremental to use as a valid criticism. If Winfrey and Jonathan Demmes’ movie made even one person seek out Morrision’s novel it would give the film merit. As it turned out the movie would inspire a whole new generation to read Toni Morrison’s unforgettable and rightfully unforgiving book. And while one could debate the differences between the film and the novel — it would be a mute discussion. Beloved, the movie, works incredibly well. Even still, it is interesting that Winfrey sought out a white filmmaker who had ever really even made one “serious” film. And that film, Silence of the Lambs, is both horrific and often satirical in approach. It even more surprising that she sought out screenwriter, Richard LaGravenese. A very competent white film writer, his work is often “hit or miss” — on the one hand he had written the screenplays for both The Fisher King (for which he received The Academy Award) and the highly underrated dark comedy, The Ref, but he had also written the screenplays for such duds as Diane Keaton’s Unstrung Heroes and Barbra Streisand’s off-kilter, The Mirror Has Two Faces.

Beloved’s wrath become temporarily fixed on the family dog. Sethe calmly forces the poor dog’s eyes back into their sockets. A scene that caused more than a few to flee the cinema.
Oprah Winfrey
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

It is difficult to understand her confidence LaGravenese could handle capturing the heart of this book. I don’t intent to dismiss LaGravense’s talent. It’s just that this movie operates within an entirely different “universe” compared to what one anticipates in his film scripts.  Though, Winfrey and Demme would later enlist both Adam Brooks and Akosua Busia to assist LaGravenese in screenwriting duties. Once again, Brooks is a white male who had only written one “successful” screenplay at the time, Meg Ryan’s ill-advised romantic comedy, French Kiss. As for Busia, she had become friendly with Winfrey during the production of The Color Purple in which she was a supporting actor. She had never written for the screen at the time. However, Winfrey was confident that would be a valuable member of the writing team.  As odd as these choices seem, they appear to have been good ideas.

A topic, concept and idea of great import and interest to Toni Morrison’s Beloved is “re-memoring” or “rememory.” This is a simple idea, but it was a new one to many if not all readers of Morrison’s brilliant 1987 novel. The idea is that our leading character, Sethe, is often found remembering memories. It is an idea not too far removed from PTSD survivors and the way in which the psyche often twists “reality” when trying to recall or revisit a past traumatic event. Beloved’s Sethe mental revisit to her past takes on this aspect of rememory in which memories serves as sort of triggers off-skewed or altered-perceptions of places, experiences, people and feelings that when described take on a level of unexpected power or — even more alarmingly, are recalled in almost distant or passive way.

Billie Holiday sang of “Strange Fruit” and the tragedies of Slavery continue to haunt not only the film’s characters but our current reality.
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

Rememoring is not accurate but it is a sad reality of surviving a life filled with unfathomable horrors. In the novel, it is clear that Sethe’s re-memoring is both a literal situation for the plot but also an allegorical emphasis for The African American Experience. It is also accurate in applying it to The White American Experience. However it must be stressed, that the full context of rememory related to past and current African-American Experience is not accessible in the same way and is limited in full understanding to Non-African Americans.

Maternal love comes with a cost…
Oprah Winfrey / Kimberly Elise
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

How could it be?

No White person can possibly know what it is like to walk in the shoes of a Person of Color much less understand the way the past refuses to stop impacting the lives of African American people. Even within the hearts of the most caring and politically-active White people, there are limitations of access.

The cruelty, unfairness and horrific ramification of Slavery and its lasting imprint on identities have been shaped by not only a horrifying history and current state of racial relations and self-awareness, but as Morrison asserts there remains a  devastating sort of Shared Cultural Rememory for African Americans.  A re-memory that haunts identities, understanding, self-value, societal value and the on-going cruelties that pollute the reality of being American. The concept does not just end there — it operates within the reality of the individual.

Sethe looks out of her cursed home and sees far more than “reality” — she still sees her past hiding, slumbering and waiting to return to reclaim itself or to seek vengeance. For Sethe, there is no peace.
Oprah Winfrey
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

The impact of “rememory” from Toni Morrison’s novel illustrates how this “memory” is not so much a remembrance but a re-occuring reality. Just as it looms over an entire race of human beings, rememory is still happening to Sethe:

“what I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head … even if I don’t think it, even if I die, the picture of whatI did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.”

from Toni Morrison’s Beloved.

Perhaps one of the reasons Winfrey sought a highly originally talented and somewhat eccentric filmmaker as Jonathan Demme to helm her film is because she knew he would bring an insight that would be limited in understanding the immediate importance of Morrison’s novel, but oddly effective in bridging a stronger link to culture because of that limitation. There is something to be said of the way the movie begins.

Icepick Rage
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimotot

Beloved begins as if the film director and the writers have assumed too much. Despite the success of Morrison’s novel, many of the people who first attended screening of this movie were unaware of it. Winfrey knew this. Demme’s assumption that his audience would be familiar with the novel immediately tosses the audience into a world of shock and cruelty that worked in the film’s favor.

I had read the book, but I remember my jaw dropping.

Kimberly Elise’s “Denver” faces her mother’s past as directly as her mother.
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimotot

Wait! Is that Oprah Winfrey? What is she doing to that poor dog? Holy shit! Is Oprah pushing and hammering the dog’s eyeballs back into the dog’s eye sockets?!?! Did I just see that?  Hold up. Did that mirror just crack. Why are those two little boys so horrified? Why are they running away?  How can they leave their sad little sister all alone on the creepy stairs? What was whipping that poor dog around? Why isn’t Oprah upset? She walks by her daughter and folds clothes while this elderly woman lectures her that she should consider herself lucky.

This cinematic disorientation is so phantasmagorical, we’ve hardly caught our breath by the time Danny Glover’s Paul D shows up. As his character realizes that there is some sort of supernatural entity wrecking havoc in the house he is bathed in a light of red. Oprah’s character calms him down and he accepts what she says as truth. There is no hint of doubt. Paul D gets the situation and understands Sethe. The movie takes another unexpected turn in the eroticism shared between Sethe and Paul D.

Oprah Winfrey and Danny Glover
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

It isn’t that the sight of Paul D nude and freshly bathed in Sethe’s kitchen is shocking. It is actually beautifully shot and quite erotic. As Sethe begins to open up and allows her walls to go down to allow Paul D’s comfort, we first see the deep scars on Sethe’s back. Paul D is not shocked or turned off. He caresses Sethe and accepts her beauty sensually. Her scars are a part of who she is, just as his weariness is a part of himself.

Sethe relaxes and allows Paul D’s comforts
Beloved
Oprah Winfrey / Danny Glover
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Photograph | Ken Regan

The eroticism and love are beautiful. What jolted audiences in 1998 will most likely still jolt a new generation today.

There is something quite effective to see all of this happen and realize that we are seeing Oprah Winfrey realistically playing the part. Oprah is more than a “star” or “icon” — she symbolizes all that we hold dear. Raising herself out of the ashes of a an abusive childhood to the role of news anchor, to Chat TV Show host to actor to International fame. A fame she is not squandered on petty vanity — Oprah has always used her struggles, her intelligence, her charm and her power to help rather than self-promote. She changed the way we look at life, literature, art and always puts her money to fund assistance and effective change. Oprah Winfrey has saturated our world with good intention and hope.

She has played a crucial role in the shaping our culture for the better at very end of the 20th and beginning of the 21st Centuries in ways more profound than any politicians, the Steve Jobs, the Bill Gates or the Mark Zuckerbergs. A very winnable argument could be made that Oprah Winfrey is the most culturally significant person of our time. This presents a greater impact to Beloved than can be articulated.

Physical and Mental Scars of Slavery
Oprah Winfrey
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Photograph | Ken Regan

It is revelatory to see “Our Oprah” in this role. It isn’t really so much shocking as it is a jolt and a reminder that there is a reason she has invested her money, her time, her energy and her skills into what appears to be such an experimental movie.

And of course, this presents the most unsettling aspect of the film adaptation. Is this a high art horror movie? It sure feels like one. But as soon as the audience settles into the idea that we are watching a sort of metaphorical horror film, Demme pulls us into rememory — suddenly we see the hope offered by faith and church revivals. We begin to feel Sethe and Denver soften with the presence of Paul D. Serving as husband, father, lover and protector — Paul D brings some hope, love and peace to this house of horror and sadness.

But don’t dare relax. All of that foreshadowing is about to take form from the depths of an old river.

Grief, Sadness, Rage, Guilt, Pain and Human Horror Personified.
Thandie Newton as
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

Is this is a manifestation of guilt? Of fear? Or is the reincarnation of the little girl that Sethe opted to murder rather than to allow her to grow into the pain of life as a slave? The origin of  Sethe’s Beloved is not so important. At least not immediately. Thandie Newton’s Beloved is a stunningly beautiful personification of a half-formed being. Drooling, reaching and seeming in pain — this erie beauty is almost incapable of calming. She clings to her mother, Sethe as if she will vanish without her mother’s comfort. She is equally odd in her relation to her sister, Denver.

Tending to the chicken koop with her sister takes an unexpected turn.
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

And Beloved begins to form an inappropriate erotic desire for her mother’s lover. Beloved is at once hope, love, threat, danger and pain formed into beguiling sexually-charged beauty.  Thandie Newton’s performance is as brilliant as it is problematic.

Thandie Newton drools as the half-formed
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimoto

The character of Beloved is an odd challenge to form into a character from every perspective. But perhaps the most challenging for the actor who must play this “idea” or “projection” of a human rememoried. All the more unsettling is that Newton’s style of acting deeply contrasts with the other three main actors. Winfrey, Glover and young Kimberly Elise all play their roles deeply grounded in natural realism. Their reactions may seem “off” but they feel like all-too-real people. Thandie Newtons’ performance is experimental — at turns animalistic, mentally-challenged, child-like, demonic and dangerous. It is as if she is from a whole other world or movie. As desperately as Sethe and Denver want Beloved to fit into their world, it is a losing battle and a desire that can never be fulfilled.

Kimberly Elise, Oprah Winfrey and Thandie Newton on set
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Photograph | Ken Regan

As the film soars through at just short of 3 hours that feel more like 90 minutes — the audience is pulled through a world of repugnant cruelty, torture and hyper-realistic violence. By the time 30 townswomen show up on the step of Stehe’s front door we are not even surprised to discover that they have arrived to perform an exorcism of the house, Sethe and Beloved. These women have joined as one to save this family from being completely consumed by a heritage of savagery, pain, sadness and trauma.

Beloved ultimately brought Sethe and her family true Hell whether it was intended or secretly desired. She does not exist independently. She has been summoned as much from Evil as from Good. She seems to offer forgiveness for Sethe but at a price that is far too high to pay. A truly insane Sethe is rescued by the community of African-American former female slaves. They pray and aim their crosses and Beloved who appears to be swollen with child is supernaturally sent back to the place from which she came. The exorcism appears to have worked. But there is faint feeling that this relief is only temporary.

As Paul D tries to comfort Sethe, she tells him that Beloved was her “best thing.” It is to the filmmaker and Danny Glovers’ shared skills that there isn’t the slightest feeling of the contrite or easy-solution when he tells Sethe that she is wrong. “Sethe, you are your best thing.”

Danny Glover / Oprah Winfrey
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Cinematography | Tak Fujimotot

Even if it will be a temporary moment of calm, one can’t but hope that Sethe and Paul D will be able to move on with their lives and share in the joys that Denver is able to discover on her own. But as much as the film seems to strain to create it’s own world, it is firmly tied to Toni Morrison’s extraordinary novel. Sethe and Paul D are not those of some freed slaves who can repress and dissociate from their past. They have tried but they can’t. Their true identities, suffered horrors and shared rememories have already forced a sort of reintegration of their selves. These are not fragmented people. It is not as dismal as it sounds, there is a freedom to be found in the truth. The problem is that the indignities of Slavery’s past do not seem to resolve. This is a wounded country whose scars run deep. It will take a hell of lot more than thirty Bible-thumping strong women to cast out the demons infested in our culture.

Where can we find hope?

I certainly do not hold any clue of an answer, but the one thing I take away from Oprah Winfrey’s dedication and sense of duty:

We cannot deny the truth. We must take ownership of the past. We must destroy the Confederate Flag ideology that would attempt to disguise racism as “history” or worse yet a false and evil “pride” in the wrong side of history.

The lingering rememory of Slavery’s rape, degradation, torture and atrocities of an entire race continue to plague American Culture.
Beloved
Jonathan Demme, 1998
Photograph | Ken Regan

In the end, Oprah Winfrey and Jonathan Demmes’ film failed to fully secure “buy-in” and approval from Film Critics of the time. Audiences attended in mass when it was first released, but those audiences soon re-treated. Many mistake this film for a Disney Project, but in truth Touchstone Pictures put in little of the film’s budget. Most to the money they invested was in the form of distribution and promotion. The film’s budget is not clear. Estimates range from $50,000,000 to $80,ooo,ooo. The production was shared between Jonathan Demme’s production company, Clinica Estetico, and Winfrey’s Harpo Films. The rumor is that Winfrey put in $50,000,00 of her own money into the movie. The film ended up only earning just under $30,000,000 at the box office. It was issued to DVD but is no longer in-print. But Amazon.com still has plenty of copies remaining and the film is available for on-line purchase or rental. It is most definitely worth your time to experience it.

While Beloved failed to achieve the success it intended. It stands alone as a brave, powerful, unforgettable and truly profound film. An achievement born out of a personal sense of duty. While things may have gotten bumpy or even confused in translation — there is no denying its message. Oprah Winfrey and Jonathan Demme created an amazing film against all odds.

Nothing can diminish that.

Jonathan Demme and Oprah Winfrey on set, 1997
Photograph | Ken Regan

Jonathan Demme agrees with many of the film’s supporters that it’s ultimate box office failure can be blamed on Disney who wanted a quicker box office pay-off and pulled the movie just as “word of mouth” was started to be heard so that they could the ridiculous Adam Sandler film, Water Boy into the cinemas that were then occupied by the R-rated Beloved.

Jonathan Demme
Vanity Fair, France, 2014
Photograph | FABRICE DALL’ANESE

In 2013, Winfrey was asked about the “failure” of Beloved. She is quoted as having said:

“To this day I ask myself, was it a mistake? Was it a mistake to not try and make  a more commercial film? To take some things out and tell the story differently so that it would be more palatable to an audience? Well, if you wanted to make a film that everybody would see, then that would be a mistake. I was pleased with the film that we did because it represented to me the essence of the Beloved book.”

Oprah Winfrey
Hollywood, 2015
Photograph | Mark Seliger

I refuse to accept that Beloved was a failure. If anything, we failed it.

The Criterion Collection has been kicking around for over 31 years. What began as LaserDisc format-grounded film restoration and distribution company has emerged as the pre-imminent Art Film Label. The simple icon carries more meaning and value than any major film studio. It has become the symbol for true Art Film validation. While this can be a bit problematic, it is still a sound statement. After the LaserDisc format died, Criterion remained solid thanks to a strong relationship and shared goal with Janus Films.  An American film company established in the mid 1950’s, Janus Films has always been focused on bringing the finest in International Cinema to the US. Criterion took over home distribution for Janus long ago. It has been a dream-collaboration for both companies.

This logo has become the benchmark for Film Art — specifically the label of Cinematic Target Audience?
True Film Aficionados

As we move toward Criterion’s 32nd year of operation, they still offer the best and most diverse collection of Art House Cinema. With the advent of Blu-Ray, they are really the only trustworthy source from which we know only the best restoration and transfer will be provided. Sometimes Criterion’s commitment to the Filmmaker Vision requires an adjustment in expectation. Most recently, Criterion’s aspect ratio for Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby caused a slight ripple in the waters of FilmLuv. But it was a fleeting moment. Criterion had correctly re-adjusted Roman Polanski’s pitch-perfect film of horror, paranoia and the supernatural back to the ratio within which Polanski had intended. Once everyone knew this, grumbling about this ratio fell silent and the waters were calmed.

“Mother, they’re still not sure it is a baby! “
American Filmmaker, David Lynch, holds the first printed copy of Criterion’s re-stored “Eraserhead” blu-ray.
David Lynch, 2014

The very first film to receive The Criterion Collection treatment was Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane. I’ve never seen the LaserDisc but have frequently heard it still surpasses the rather limited “job” Warner Brothers has issued to Blu-Ray. Sadly, this is usually always true. Criterion lost the licensing rights to Citizen Kane, but there hard work remains somewhere safe in that vault.

This film holds the distinction of being the first movie to ever receive “The Criterion Treatment” It was released in the short-lived Laser Disc format in 1984.
Citizen Kane
Orson Welles, 1941

It is at “the ready” whenever WB grows tired of “re-packaging” the same transfer over and over again. Restoration technology has zoomed forward since 1984. I’d love to see what they could do with Citizen Kane now. Many other important titles found their way to Criterion LaserDisc — Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, RKO’s King Kong, Federico Fellini’s La Strada, Michelangelo Antonioni’s classic Blow Up, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner and Ken Russell’s Tommy (now forever lost to the hands

The Criterion Collection’s highly prized LaserDisc of Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner.

of Sony. I’ve seen the LaserDisc version. It is a whole other world from the Sony Blu-Ray. And sorry kids, The Devils never made it to Criterion. And it is not for lack of trying. WB is the sole reason this controversial and acclaimed Ken Russell remains a murky mess on bootlegs or Korean “edited” version DVD’s. The original Theatrical Cut has never been released. Never. Blame Warner Brothers. Numerous petitions and even the sad loss of Ken Russell has not moved Warner Brothers to let the film out. No reason has ever been given.

“The Devils is not a film for everyone . . .”
Vanessa Redgrave as Sister Jeanne
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Maybe they are too embarrassed to admit that they lost or destroyed. But you see it doesn’t matter. Ken Russell’s family retains the original cut of The Devils in safe keeping and pristine. Warner Brothers still refuses.

Criterion also restored most of Stanley Kubrick’s films for LaserDisc that continue to rival anything Warners has released to Blu-Ray. Rob Reiner’s The Princess Bride, Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting as well Mel Brook’s The Producers, Hal Ashby’s Shampoo, Barbra Streisand’s A Star Is Born and Prince of Tides, Jonathan Demme’s Silence of the Lambs, The Marx Bros’ A Night at the Opera, Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver, The Wizard of Oz (now owned by Warner Brothers), Gene Kelly’s Singing in the Rain and David Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers all exist in exceptional LaserDisc transfers owned by Criterion.

“On every street in every city, there’s a nobody who dreams of being a somebody.”
Robert De Niro
Taxi Driver
Martin Scorsese, 1976

The titles were snatched back by the likes of WB and Sony. The one thing they will never be able to snatch back are the incredible transfers and often obscure special features Criterion secured. A close examination reveals Warner Brothers and Sony to be the most difficult studios with whom Criterion has had to deal. However, the oddest challenges come up when trying to secure the required licensing. Don’t even get me started on Shampoo. Please note the very poor Sony DVD transfer below. Wait. I’m pushing my luck.

“You wanna fuck?”
Well, yes, Mr. [insert name here] is “totally OK” to take Carrie Fisher up on her offer.
Shampoo
Hal Ashby, 1975
Cinematography | László Kovács

Does anyone really believe that this is the best Warner Brothers can do?
That would be Rutger Hauer hidden in unintended shadow
Blade Runner
Ridley Scott, 1982

And seriously, Blade Runner. Warner Bros, what the fuck? I’d gladly give up my unicorn snow globe for a better transfer. And poor Wizard of Oz. Warner Brothers has issued/re-issued and re-packaged it so many times without ever increasing the quality of transfer. At least I can’t see or hear any improvements.

Recent years have seen Criterion step up its marketing. Last year saw the arrival of beautiful hard-backed book, Criterion Designs,  filled with Criterion’s much admired approach to packaging. This book also offers a detailed listing of all the great films Criterion restored for LaserDisc during the early years. It is a stunningly beautiful book of art inspired by some of the greatest films of all time.

Anna Karina interviewed by Criterion.
Criterion, 2002

The folks at Criterion have really stepped up the innovation of packaging and design. It inspires all Film Aficionados. “Fake” Criterion art designs are to be found in all corners of the Cyber World. Some are truly brilliant. The point of these “fake” covers is that those designers who make them hope to stir Criterion to pursue certain films for “The Criterion Collection Treatment.”

Peter Falk and Gena Rowlands interviewed by Criterion.
Criterion, 2004

Sadly, it takes a whole lot more than some clever artwork, petitions and suggestion for Criterion to take on a new film. Rest assured, Criterion is working on securing a number of films to join the collection. And they do their very best to secure time and interviews with key players. Great surprises are revealed as iconic artists such Anna Karina, Peter Falk, Gena Rowlands and Isabelle Huppert lend insight into their roles and experiences.

Isabelle Huppert discusses Jean-Luc Godard with Criterion.
Criterion, 2014

In the last 5 years Criterion’s web site has been elevated to match the quality of the films they produce. A great On-Line Forum and access to film essays and clips are only a couple of the major adds to the site. For me, the most fun are the 3 Reasons  vid-clips that quickly explain why a film has been chosen. Even more fun is when Film Artists are given “access” to The Criterion Closet.

Nicolas Winding Refn grabs Alex Cox’s “Repo Man” during his visit to The Criterion Closet.
Criterion, 2013

It is fun to watch and listen to filmmakers as each reacts to what is essentially a room filled with approximately 5-10 copies of all DVD/Blu-Rays Criterion has produced. It is kind of like entering a cinematic candy store. It reminds me a bit of that “rush” my 5 year-old heart experienced overtime I went into Sam Goody’s with my mom. I was not usually allowed to get anything, but I loved roaming through the record racks on the tip of my toes. Too short to ever really see the full album, it was still awesome. The Criterion Closet is like that. There are so many film artists I’d love see look through the closet. Would it not be cool to see The Great Carrie Fisher, Sissy Spacek, Kentucker Audley, Joe Swanberg, Lynn Shelton and Catherine Keener let loose in there?!?!? Send them into the tiny room in couples. Carrie Fisher and Catherine Keener would be fun duo to watch!

Korean Filmmaker, Joon-ho Bong visits The Criterion Closet.
Criterion, 2014

The website is full of these vid-clips.

British Filmmaker, Richard Ayoade visits The Criterion Closet.
Criterion, 2014

If you’ve never been given the opportunity to walk into the surprisingly little room and are curious, you can find the clips at the link below.

https://www.criterion.com

My only “complaint” is that there seems to be some odd sort of “Boy’s Club” mentality going down. Why have we not seen any female filmmakers explore The Criterion Closet?

Canadian actor, Michael Cera visits The Criterion Closet.
Criterion, 2015

The reason is not as “political” as you might think. There is no high-tech innovation when entering the closet. The lighting isn’t great. The absence of female actors is more linked to “publicist worry” than anything else. Sometimes the “official” trips are carefully planned, but most of the time these happen more or less “off the cuff.” Still, some effort needs to be made. Personally, I’d love to see Claire Denis raid The Criterion Closet. And, if she is in NYC — she would be more than “game” for it. And has anyone even asked Lena Dunham or Greta Gerwig? Neither of these very important female artists are worried about being ready for their “close-up.” Criterion? Can you hear me? Not everyone is Barbra Streisand or Goldie Hawn!

The late American Cinematographer, Harris Savides visits The Criterion Closet.
Criterion, 2012

Since the advent of The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray, I’ve slowly begun the process of forming my own version of The Criterion Collection. It is not very big, but I’m on a budget. And, truth be known, more than a few were given to me! Covert operating has it’s privileges! I call this ever-growing collection My Pitiable Criterion Bookshelves! I suppose my most valued “player” in my collection is Kar-wai Wong’s Chungking Express which is tragically out of print. And it it is not likely to return anytime soon. The most devastating loss? I used to own the coveted Criterion transfer of Nicolas Roeg’s The Man Who Fell To Earth. It is long lost. Don’t ask. By the way, if you do not already own it, you are well advised to purchase Jim Jarmusch’s Mystery Train fast while you still can. Just a suggestion.

Welcome to my Criterion Bookcase…

I was recently give the task of selecting six discs from my sad little Criterion Collection and offer a brief discussion of each. The methodology was simple. I sat in front of my bookcase in Lotus Position. Strained my Chakra System and sent my Film Loving aura’s energy upward and reached forward 6 times to pull a movie. Ok. I’m lying. I’ve no interest in Yoga or anything applied toward The New Age without irony.

Essentially, I just squatted in front of the case while my dodgy cat and nutty dog raced around me and blindly pulled 6 titles. I should add that this created quite a mess as over 16 titles fell over and out. These are in no particular order and I do not particularly love one of these films than the other. I selected these Blu-Rays accidentally. This seemed the best way to go. In the end I decided to make an executive decision and only offer my insights into 4 of my initial 6. I did this by closing my eyes and picking up 4. So here are my comments regarding 3 of my Pitiable Collection. Let the fun begin!

Paris, Texas
Wim Wenders, 1984
Cinematography | Robby Müller

I actually have a kind of interesting connection to Wim Wender’s Paris, Texas. I was just entering the deep end of the pool of  drugs at the age of 14. I loved movies, but my knowledge was largely limited to the movies that played in my home town of Beaumont, Texas. Around this time I became enamored of Nastassja Kinski. Her images adorned my bedroom walls. I was lying on the floor of my bedroom when my crazy-ass father entered and whispered, “Would you like to meet Nastassja Kinski?”

Only partially annoyed I answered, “No. I would hate to meet Nastassja Kinski. I only have her all over my walls because she is of no interest to me.”

“Well, that’s too bad because of friend of mine has invited us over to a club where she is shooting a movie.”

I jolted up out of my weed-infused stupor, “Really? Are you kidding? Yes! Can I bring — ”

“No. And you have to promise me you don’t mention this to your mother. Never. Got it?”

“Ok.” My parents had re-entered their ill-advised marriage again. He told me to call in sick the following day. The Donut Shop where have to deal. I was gonna meet Nastassja Kinski! The next morning I joined my dad in his huge car and we were on our way. I should mention that my hometown of Beaumont, Texas is not an ideal place. When my insane father told me he was friends with both the owner, manager and some of the “girls” of a place called The Keyhole Klub located in Port Arthur. Yes, aside from the film crew — the first thing I noticed is that this was “club” with a “K.”

I don’t mean to cause offense, but if Beaumont is the “armpit” of Texas then Port Arthur would have to be the “perineum” of Texas. Port Arthur could be rough in a major way. At the time, this was the sort of town which you really needed to avoid. And The Keyhole Klub was more or less just off the battered old highway.

All that appears to remain of The Keyhole Klub. Apparently it was shut down some time ago. This sign is gone. The building still stands, but it is all boarded up.
Keyhole Klub,
Port Arthur, Texas, USA

I don’t think I was yet fully aware of “things” at this point in my life. I knew what a prostitute was and I understood most of the fundamentals of sex thanks to my father’s porn collection and observations hanging out with friends. But I’m not sure if I really understood that this “klub” was a “legalized” illegal operation. Of course this being my father — it all makes sense. He knew the owner because he had cut him a good deal on a shipment of guns. He had also trained several of “the girls” to shoot guns. These “girls” looked more like kind of overly made-up creepy old ladies to me. In reality they were probably barely 30. This is remembered from the eyes of a 14 year old stoner.

The movie crew looked both professional and confused. My father introduced me to the owner of the “klub” – think Willem Dafoe as “Bobby” from David Lynch’s Wild At Heart. This dude was seriously creepy. But to be honest “creepy” was not a new reality to me back then.

The owner told me that she hadn’t yet arrived. Or if she had he hadn’t noticed.

“Strange girl, that one. Puurty. But fuckin’ strange. You don’t look much like your Daddy.”

He and my father began to talk about some gun delivery he was still waiting “on.”

I asked, “So where is Nastassja Kinski and why would she be here?”  Just then one of “the girls” walked up to the owner.

The owner told “the girl” to walk me around and keep me out of trouble. The film crew had full control of the “klub” for the day and into the early part of the night. “The girl” introduced me to Harry Dean Stanton. We shook hands. He asked what a kid like me was doing there. I think I just shrugged. Then she introduced me to the film’s director. He seemed hot and frustrated, but extended his hand and said hello in a friendly, thick accent of some sort. A sweaty guy with an even thicker accent walked up to talk to the director. She introduced me to him as well. This time I asked, “Lasso?” “No. Lazlow.” I had no clue of who they were. It did dawn on me that I had seen Stanton might have been in Coal Miner’s Daughter and The Rose, but I wasn’t sure. Nor was “the girl.”

She asked me if I wanted to go inside where there was air-conditioning and she’d get me a Coke. Would I possibly see Miss. Kinski? I entered the suspect looking building. I wish I could remember the name of “the girl” but I can’t. She took me through into this dark hallway. It was seemed dirty and smelled odd. A hall of one-way mirrors with tiny desks and phones placed in front of the mirrors. “The girl” told me that men liked to pay money to talk to them. I asked how and she let me inside one of the rooms. Suddenly I heard her voice and she told me she could see and hear me, but I couldn’t see her.

“He thought if she never got jealous of him that she didn’t really care about him. Jealousy was a sign of her love for him…”
Nastassja Kinski
Paris, Texas
Wim Wenders, 1984
Cinematography | Robby Müller

The room was in a state of half-construction. There was a stool, chairs, toys, sex toys and perfumes. She told me that every room was the same.

We returned to the cruel heat, humidity and sunlight. I found my father talking with a group of rednecks. One asked me if I liked to go “shootin‘” like my dad. I answered “no.”

This led to a spit and a new question, “You mean you don’t know how to shoot a gun, boy?”

My rebellion was in full-tilt, “Oh yeah. I can shoot a gun. And I shoot a gun well.”

My father offered his standard joke while his hand was firmly clutched around the back of my neck, “You have to excuse my son. If Jesus walked up he’d tell him to get a haircut!” …this was met with laughter and more Skoal spitting.

I sulked all the way back to Beaumont. It would be several years before I realized I had met The Harry Dean Stanton, The Laszlo Kovacs and The Great Wim Wenders. All of whom were very nice to me. I was an annoyed teenager hellbent on meeting a “real” star. It is ironic. Year later I would have the opportunity of meeting Mr. Wenders again. He was charming, easy-going and very open. I did not let him know we had met years before.  The really interesting thing about my “connection” to the movie is that when I finally saw the film itself, one of if not the most important moments in Paris, Texas takes place within the walls of a gross Port Arthur sex club.

Nastassja Kinski / Harry Dean Stanton
Paris, Texas
Wim Wenders, 1984
Cinematography | Robby Müller

Somehow Kovacs and Wenders transformed that little room and one-way mirror into something interestingly beautiful. The true magic of filmmaking. Obviously, Ms. Kinski eventually showed up. And she is exceptional in the film. Every time I see this movie I wonder if they took out the sex toys before or after she entered the room. I think this might be Wim Winders’ greatest film. For me, it is most definitely a cinematic masterpiece. Harry Dean Stanton barely speaks at all, but he conveys all and more than you need to know or understand. He is practically mute until he enters the sex club. He sees his far-too young wife, but she can’t see him. Stanton reveals his character’s truth in one of the most beautifully sad cinematic moments.

Robby Müller’s cinematography has never been so fully utilized. (And that is saying a great deal)  This is a cinematic poetry of “the ordinary.”  Magically, Wenders’ gives this visual poem flight into “the extraordinary.” Bittersweet beauty. Brilliant.

While we are still in the 1980’s, let’s move to 1986 and Jim Jarmusch’s Down by Law.

“It’s not where you start – It’s where you start again.”
Down by Law
Jim Jarmusch, 1986
Cinematography | Robby Müller

Jim Jarmusch’s great movie has taken on a new level of importance in the past decade. Not that it wasn’t important upon it’s initial release. It was. I skipped a day of school and drove my beat-up old Buick to Houston to see an afternoon screening. It felt so vital and new. This was my first Jamusch movie. And what a movie it was! There is a great difference in seeing this movie through the eyes of an 17 year old and the eyes of a thirty-something. There is an even greater difference viewing it through the eyes of a fourty-something. Each viewing is rewarding, but age and the passing of time bring this simple, low-budget movie a far deeper level of meaning. Add in the aftermath of Katrina, this is an important portrait of a New Orleans long gone.

Jarmusch and his actors capture the cool and the conflict. Robby Müller’s brilliant cinematography captures glimpses of this city that have been forever changed. John Lurie, Tom Waits and Roberto Benigni (before I found him annoying) are perfectly cast as fictional versions of themselves. Ellen Barkin shows up as well. This is a young Barkin who is already far more talented than her age would suggest. I remember thinking it funny as she tossed our poor Zack’s possessions out the window of their grubby and yet impossibly cool apartment. In my thirties I was in pain for Tom Wait’s character. He only has a few things and what she tosses out that window are priceless.

” You don’t take care of me. You don’t want me…”
Ellen Barkin / Tom Waits
Down by Law
Jim Jarmusch, 1986
Cinematography | Robby Müller

I knew Tom Waits to be a cool singer/songwriter who was creating experimental twists on the blues and jazz. He had dumped Rickie Lee Jones and inspired her to create an entire iconic album. I didn’t know who John Lurie was, but he seemed cool. Benigni was a harmless clown. As these three “true” characters find themselves stuck in a jail cell the naturalistic charm and humor comes to full bloom. We follow them on a simple escape. Now fugitives, we see them argue, bond and joined together as outsiders. The film rambles it’s way to an ending that is as satisfying as it is kind of sad and unsure. Jim Jarmusch is an essential filmmaker. Over the years his eccentricities sometimes veer far deeply into his “hipster cool” — this, for me, remains his best cinematic moment. Somewhere in my mind, these three men are still sulking, joking and sliding through their lives. Lives that are far more meaningful that surface view allows.

“Life is like the surf, so give yourself away like the sea.”
Y Tu Mamá También
Alfonso Cuarón, 2001
Cinematography | Emmanuel Lubezki

Expectations were not that high as we took our seats to see this film. Alfonso Cuarón’s movie is framed as if a “documentary” which features a distant and dis-engaged narrator. It is an effective device. As we “meet” the 3 leading characters of the story, we are allowed to make “judgements” about each one. I stress the word “judgement” because that is what we do. It is as if Cuaron gives his audience permission to allow us to wedge each three “characters” into our own sense of stereotyping and passive viewpoints. As the movie progresses, the idea of documentary gives sway to leaving the audience as “flies on the walls.” Our pre-conceived ideas of each character proves incorrect. These characters do not fit into cultures’ restrictively simple “labels.”

Thanks to the skills of Maribel Verdú, Diego Luna and most especially Gael García Bernal — these characters very quickly become “people” filled with challenges and very real worries and concerns. The “older” woman is not really that much older than her male friends. She is barely a decade older. But as a woman and as an adult who has had a bit more experience, she is more forgiving of her friend’s limitations. It doesn’t mean she understands them. Julio and Tenoch have been raised in very different ways and within very contrasting social classes. It has not prevented a deep friendship, but as they grow older each is painfully aware of their own “judgements” and “prejudices.”

Maribel Verdú, Diego Luna and Gael Garcia Bernal
Y Tu Mamá También
Alfonso Cuarón, 2001
Cinematography | Emmanuel Lubezki

What seems like a simple road trip and coming of age story is far more complex. At the time the film was released, Cuaron’s use of explicit sex went far beyond the range of the American R-rating. It was hit with the often damaging and unfair “NC-17″ label. For younger people this film became an infamously erotic, bold and graphic look at sexuality. It would be unfair to not allow the film its eroticism. It is erotic. It is also a very intelligent examination of sexuality from both the limited perspectives of two only recently “legally” recognized young adult males as well as an adult female perspective. Sexuality is at the core of this beautiful film.

The road trip is not simple. It is filled with glimpses into The Mexican culture which is simultaneously beautiful, confused and horrifically economically corrupt tension. In addition, this “little” road trip reveals itself to be a realistic and troubling exploration of male bonding. When that bonding dips it’s toes into the deep waters of sexuality — this friendship can never return to it’s innocent fun and love. It is severed. It is damaged beyond repair. And our leading female character is dealing with life’s most challenging and horrifying realities. Beyond lonely, Luisa is trying desperately to find solace in a world that has refused it. These two kind young men represent a youth she has almost forgotten. And while she tries to help guide these two boys into a smarter sexual understanding she also pushes them too fast and too far.

Gael García Bernal and his friend are about to go deeper than their friendship can survive.
Gael García Bernal
Y Tu Mamá También
Alfonso Cuarón, 2001
Cinematography | Emmanuel Lubezki

She is unable to notice this because of an internal horror that she keep hidden. Not because she is afraid to share it — but because she is too afraid to allow herself to view it. Y Tu Mama También presents itself as a sexy coming of age movie that is actually a profound and tragically sad reality that comes with adulthood. Underneath that already complex achievement lies a societal-political of a Mexico that is about to explode onto other cultures and countries that I don’t I was even aware of at the the time. More than just an “important” work, this is stunning adult film that no one will want to miss.

“Fact, fantasy or memory?”
My Winnipeg
Guy Maddin, 2007
Cinematography | Jody Shapiro

If I were pushed, I’d have to admit that this is probably my favorite of the 4 movie from my Criterion Collection. Guy Maddin’s work is “tripy” and constantly shifts from “Horror” to “Dark Comedy.” But every film also offers an enticing beauty. The Saddest Music in the World would prove to be his most “accessible” movie. He emerged from the fringes of his earlier shorts and experimental films. Interestingly, as good as that film is — it is far from being one of his best. Following the Art House success of Saddest Music and the success of  2006’s Brand Upon The Brain, he created his most personal film.

I had the pleasure of seeing My Winnipeg before it was released to the film festival circuit and it’s all too-limited US release. While Brand Upon the Brain was a fascinating experimental re-visit to silent film, My Winnipeg takes the “form” of a documentary. This “formation” features re-enactments of Maddin’s “personal memory” and of Winnipeg’s eccentric “history.” Utilizing his standard devices of long ago abandoned cinematic tricks. This is not a documentary that can be accepted as “truth.” This is an artist’s re-invented collection of memories that he has bent, twisted and often self-created or imagined.

The late Roger Ebert wrote an incredible review of My Winnipeg that captured my own viewpoints far better than I could ever articulate. I still remember a very key comment Ebert gave in his review. I did’t remember it well enough to quote, but it was easy to find on-line.

Roger Ebert wrote, that Winnipeg’s “city fathers commissioned it [the film] as a documentary, to be made by “the mad poet of Manitoba,” as a Canadian magazine termed him. Maddin has never left his hometown, although judging by this film, it has left him.” This is an almost perfect summation of the movie. I highly encourage you seek Ebert’s review of this odd but effective film prior to seeing it. And if you have not seen it — you must check it out. Ebert’s one sentence frames Maddin’s incredible film perfectly.

We never doubt that Maddin loves and is proud of “his” Winnipeg, but we can’t really be sure that we can trust what he shows and tells us. He rejects the idea of creating the “documentary” for which he was commissioned. Instead he pursues an experimental and surreal glimpse back into what might be a collective feeling of a city long gone. He examines an idea of himself via what are very likely false childhood “memories.” I call these memories “false” because they are too absurd to be considered true.

Mother does not always stand for comfort..
Ann Savage casually chats her son out of suicide.
My Winnipeg
Guy Maddin, 2007
Cinematography | Jody Shapiro

His “mom” is more a symbol of Winnipeg than a maternal relation. In fact his entire “family” emerges more as metaphors or symbols of a city’s history long abandoned. It is partly from his own familial “experience” and the city’s “history” in sport and retail that Maddin once again returns to his familiar examination of sexuality. Maddin’s work has always found ways to root themselves into the ream of sex. He has never shied away from a conflicted view of sexuality. This includes a constant re-emerging study of repressed homosexuality. I do not mean to imply anything regarding Maddin’s real sexuality or identity, but his work continually pulls his audience to the attention of a vague interest related to “latent homosexuality.” It appears to be a source of conflict and humor. This is not a politically offensive “conflict” or “humor.” It is expressed as both a sort of longing, sadness and curiosity.

The role of women in Maddin’s work is also takes form in a mystical riddle. The female characters share maternal instincts as much as they offer sexual pleasure and danger. Once again, this is not misogyny. The idea of women is a source of conflict within Maddlin’s cinematic world. A conflict that is interestingly free of rage or objectification. Women seem to allude him. They are mysterious and powerful — and they enchant him. One senses that Maddin is truly encaged in what becomes a true magical mystery.

Marcel Dzama’s effective design for The Criterion Collection’s packaging.
My Winnipeg
Guy Maddin, 2007

My Winnipeg offers the perfect formation of Guy Maddin’s eccentric, dark, disturbing and often funny ideas and style. This is a fully formed world in which we are placed. It is logical that this formation takes place as Maddin is paying homage and also applying a sense of sadness toward the mysteries of childhood perspective and a time long ago. Winnipeg culture is tied to the filmmaker’s identity. This film is a rewarding experience. After the movie ends, I feel as if I need to re-adjust my vision. And the lonesome laments of Maddin’s brilliant film lingers. A poster for the film’s original release hangs in my dining room. Moments from this magical movie are forever in my own memory. My Winnipeg is a true Cinematic Masterpiece. It also that defies “genre.” Having the opportunity to speak with Maddin, and one does speak “with” him. He is a good a listener as speaker. You are able to connect this very grounded man to his films. Bizarre as they are, each is somehow grounded in a reality that is uniquely intellectual, beautiful and uniquely his own. Every shot, every character is different and sometimes even “evil” — but this filmmaker has love for each one.

Criterion has done an outstanding job at transferring this film. Fingers-crossed that they are soon able to do the same with Brand Upon The Brain! via blu-ray and a re-freshed VOD version. Criterion released BUTB to DVD which offers alternate audio narrations of the silent film. Isabella Rossellini provides the “official” narration to great effect, but it is interesting to hear other actors serve as narrators. Each narration delivery seems to change the film’s intentions and meanings. Technology has advanced a great deal since this film joined The Criterion Collection as a Blu-Ray. Let’s hope they will be able to re-master and re-issue to Blu-Ray and VOD soon!

” All things will happen again. And again.”
Brand Upon the Brain! A Remembrance in 12 Chapters
Guy Maddin, 2006
Cinematography | Benjamin Kasulke

Meanwhile, we can dream… I particularly love the dreams of Designer and Design Firm, Variant. Variant is a boutique design agency specializing in key art for independent film. Beautiful work to be discovered there. I love their design for Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining.

www.variantcreative.com

Fake Criterion Cover for Stanley Kubrick’s
The Shining
Designed by and courtesy
of © Variant
http://www.variantcreative.com

Another great site devoted to the art of design for “dream” Criterion Covers is far more subversive. However, I do think a case could be made for Adam Bernstein’s cinematic adaptation of Julia Sweeney’s iconic SNL parody of androgyny. It’s Pat was a bad film, but over time it has developed an odd sort of entertainment value. There is goofy but legitimate amount of fun in this strange little cinematic error. “I played with the Ween!” You can find and follow both via Tumblr and Twitter:

http://fakecriterions.tumblr.com

Fake Criterion Cover for
It’s Pat
Julia Sweeney
Adam Bernstein, 1994
Courtesy of
© FakeCriterions
http://fakecriterions.tumblr.com

In all honesty, FakeCriterion’s design for Shane Carruth’s brilliant Upstream Color erbp is far better than erbp Films’ official packaging design.

The power of Film Art is unlimited and subjective. This is a concept that is well understood by The Criterion Collection.

Matty Stanfield

7.30.2015

“Adversity’s sweet milk: philosophy.”

“You want me to take you someplace dark?”
Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Abel Ferrara’s attempt at the vampire genre is blended with a surprisingly effective mix of visceral horror and philosophical meditation of humanity. Ferrara did not write the script for this film. It was written by Nicholas St. John, but it is easy to see what attracted him to the screenplay. Abel Ferrara’s approach to filmmaking as always been tied to his provocateur. If ever someone else’s words would lend them toward his cinematic motivation, it would be in St. John’s controversial re-visit to one of cinema’s most tired genres: The Vampire Movie.

The topic of vampires is metaphor and allegory from any vantage point. Ferrara was at the top of his game and obviously inspired when his 1995 film, The Addiction, slipped into Art Cinemas across the world. He had some major assistance in bringing the film to life. Ken Kelsch’s black and white cinematography is ideally-suited to what Ferrara is exploring. And the movie offers Lili Taylor, Annabella Sciorra, Christopher Walken and a pre-Sopranos/Nurse Jackie, Edie Falco with ample opportunities to display their individual skills.

“Dependency is a marvelous thing. It does more for the soul than any formulation of doctoral material.”
Lili Taylor
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Lili Taylor plays a profoundly dedicated and serious NYU Philosophy Major. She seems almost lost in her world of study save for one friend with whom she continually challenges her own ideas. She may have some connections to this person and her professors, but she is a loner. Even more than that, she is an intellectual alone in her complicated theories and thoughts.

She makes what appears to be a tragic mistake of running into Annabella Sciorra’s “Casanova” one night on a dark Manhattan street. This strange woman seems to emanate an erotic allure for Kathleen. When Casanova advices Kathleen to “order” her to go away, Kathleen, while clearly frightened, is far too intrigued is follow this beautiful Femme Fatale’s advice. Casanova attacks her. This attack is executed with a sort of clumsy, messy and animalistic attack of a feral vampire.

“We are not sinners because we sin. We sin because we’re sinners.”
Annabella Sciorra “feeds” on Lili Taylor
The Addiction
Able Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

But this is only temporary. Casanova may not be quite as deep as the other characters in this morbidly fascinating film, but she is not stupid. She offers Kathleen advice, but this is one victim who is far too pre-occupied with the application of philosophy and her own personal theoretical ideas to actually accept guidance freely.

Thus Abel Ferrara pulls us into his odd, unsettling and controversial Vampire Movie. Kathleen begins to turn into what we can only determine is a vampire.

Turning into a vampire within the limitations and endless theories of academic philosophy
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Repulsive acts of horror begin and culminate to an orchestrated “event” in which academics and fellow students gather together to celebrate a graduation quickly turns into an orgiastic vampire’s delight. It isn’t so much that the violence is particularly any more graphic than what one would expect, but via the careful manipulation of post-production sound and editing — it all takes on a disturbing turn toward gore.

But we have a great deal to sort though as we follow Kathleen toward her academic graduation and her ultimate transformation into The Un-human Vampire she seems destined to become.

As Kathleen and her one pal, Jean, approach the end of their academic careers — they are immersed in studying devastating acts of human cruelty and atrocity. Naturally, this sort of study leads them into a dense study of The Holocaust.

Kathleen is already slipping toward the edge of subversive theory when she attempts to encage Jean in a disturbing viewpoint of Hitler, his Nazis, Germany and the many who fell victim to his insane manipulation of an ailing culture and economy into a personification of genocide and hate.

Kathleen offers ideology in the form of debate to her friend. An ideology that is not just subversive – it borders on the insane.
Lili Taylor / Edie Falco
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Kathleen pushes a discussion of War Criminals into the form of debate.

“It was the whole country. They were all guilty. How can you single out one man?”

Jean, played by Edie Falco, tries to apply logic and reason to her friend, “Well, you can’t jail a whole country, you know. They needed a scapegoat. He was the unlucky one who got caught.”

“No, I don’t think luck had anything to do with it. I mean, how did he get over there? Who put the gun in his hand? They say that he was guilty of killing women and babies. How many bombs were dropped that did the exact same thing? How many homes were destroyed? And who’s in, who’s in jail for that?”

Jean shakes off Kathleen’s ideology with a shrug of frustration and indifference.

As Kathleen’s wounds from her attack begin to “re-shape” and transform her from human — She does not seem to view Jean as a walking blood sack. Instead, she continues to rationalize the unrationable. Is she attempting to gain insight into her physiological destiny or is she trying to hold on to her one truly human contact?

It isn’t clear, but Jean is clearly not interested in this insanely cruel level of engagement. While worried for her friend’s health, she is equally concerned about her use of ideology.

The old adage from Santayana, that those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it, is a lie. There is no history. Everything we are is eternally with us.”
Shady theories from what increasingly seems like a creepy version of her friend. Jean simply focuses on her own work.
Lili Taylor / Edie Falco
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

This is not your traditional “horror film” by any standard. And it is certainly not your typical vampire genre movie. In Able Ferrara’s film the vampiric attacks are animalistic, cold and methodical. There are very few “boo” moments. Actually, there really are none of those to be found.

The film’s true concern is the ways in which Kathleen (and maybe Ferrara) apply philosophy, history and intellectualism upon her own victims. These ideas are grounded in a skewed sort of logic that offers Ferrara’s provocative movie an “out.” One could state that Ferrara is offering his own screwed-up ideologies or defend the film’s subversive rationale as a manifestation of Kathleen’s insanely animal-like urge for blood and torture. But as the film leads us to it’s almost depraved operatic crescendo of vampire sadism, it would be difficult to accept any of these off-skewed pseudo-intellectual theories as serious. However, it is difficult to forgive even the articulation of these “self-intended victims” theoretical ramblings. They are so artfully presented that it is worrying.

“You think hell shuts down after a couple of years? You think what you’ve done isn’t, isn’t floating around somewhere in space? What makes you think you’ve been forgiven for lying to your mother as a child, huh? Or of having slept with married men in adultery or paying taxes that turn Central America into a mud puddle, huh?”
Lili Taylor ideas are relegated to her spectre-like appearance. No one is really listening.
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Wether or not Ferrara’s vampires are immortal is never fully discussed. But we know that they are essentially “dead” as they began to prey upon victims. It is actually more of moral and ethical degradation to vampirism than a traditional “rebirth” to immortality. For these vampires blood is less a desire or requirement than it is an addiction. Could these monsters stop preying on human blood if they tried? Or is the “fix” more desirable than rehabilitation. This question is addressed when Christopher Walken’s character enters Kathleen’s world.

“You know how long I’ve been fasting? Forty years. The last time I shot up, I had a dozen and a half in one night. They fall like flies before the hunger, don’t they? You can never get enough, can you? But you learn to control it. You learn, like the Tibetans, to survive on a little.”

Peina offers an alternative to Kathleen. She does not have to be a cruel animal. She can be saved from the evil of nothing to the possibility of creating an existence which offers more than depending upon the blood of “innocents.”  Pena has turned his back on blood lust and cruelty. He abstains and claims that he is almost once again human. He attempts to persuade Kathleen to let him help her overcome her addiction.

It is a wasted effort.

I’m not like you. You’re nothing. That’s something you ought not to forget. You’re not a person. You’re nothing.”
Christopher Walken as Peina, A Vampire Redeemed and Recovering from his addiction to blood. His choice to abstain repulses Kathleen.
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Before Kathleen abandons all possibility of what she views as Peina’s denial of true identity, purpose and superiority, he offers her words of warning. “The entire world’s a graveyard, and we, the birds of prey picking at the bones. That’s all we are. We’re the ones who let the dying know the hour has come.” She is merely curious about this viewpoint than concerned with applying it. To the “recovering” vampire, Kathleen and all the others are nothing. They are evil and pointless. To Peina this is the same as being nothing of importance. But to Kathleen this is just “assimilation” to a lower order.

As she “de-evolves” to a blood-addict vampire, she begins to see the cruelty of human history as a tool to explain away her own guilt. Like the other vampires we see and meet, Kathleen begins to blame her victims rather herself. She seems to reject that idea that there was any supernatural aura or erotic allure projected by Casanova. She actualizes herself and her attacker as her destiny. Also due to the way in which Ferrara films it, it may not have been a spell or aura at all. It very well might have been Kathleen’s latent homosexual desire that prevented her from ordering her vampire to leave.

In one key scene Kathleen watches one of her victims, an Anthropology Major, accessing the damage Kathleen has inflicted. The young woman is in torment, pain and fear, she searches for words. “Look what you’ve done to me! How could you do this? Doesn’t this affect you at all?”

Lili Taylor ponders her latest victim’s fear as she examines the first bit of damage Kathleen has done.
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

In a brilliant turn of acting, Lili Taylor’s Kathleen re-asses her vile attack along with her victim. With a cold, icey and superior tone she tells the soon to be dead victim, “No. It was your decision. Your friend Feuerbach wrote that all men counting stars are equivalent in every way to God. My indifference is not the concern here. It’s your astonishment that needs studying.”

And as Kathleen fully succumbs to her new found identity of a Vampire, she is a last able to apply her perverse theories regarding human cruelty to a logical conclusion: The “Victims” are no more than stupid beings too dim-witted to fight back or simply order their “Victimizers” away. Kathleen has found an excuse for her bad behavior. Her unforgiving acts of atrocities are “essential” and she is now free to fall into a full-on self-deception of her addiction.

Kathleen’s ghoulish appearance is fully covered in make-up as she prepares to thank her teachers and colleagues at a graduating gathering.
The Addiction
Able Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

Our astutely deluded vampire will admit that her addiction might be considered “evil” by some.  But she theorizes a forgiving ideology for drug of choice, blood. “The propensity for this ‘evil’ lies in our weakness before it. Kierkegaard was right – there is an awful precipice before us. But he was wrong about the leap – there’s a difference between jumping and being pushed. You reach a point where you are forced to face your own needs, and the fact that you can’t terminate the situation settles on you with full force.”

A junkie with a theory for her practice, Kathleen is confident in her pursuit of victims and their blood. She presents a newly re-freshed, sexy and confident young woman. Her ghoulish and deathly-appearance is gone. She only pauses for a few seconds to look at her once true friend, Jean. She is willing to accept compliments and credit “make-up” and “healing” for her new and improved look.

Once again to Lili Taylor’s credit, she doesn’t need dialog to inform us that it is not “make-up” or “medicine” that have given her a sensual and beautiful glow. It is the blood of her pitiful victims. Just before Kathleen and her fellow vampires turn a human celebration into an act of unbridled carnage and horror, she teasingly informs her “friends” and “esteemed professors” that she would like to share a bit of what she has learned.

Esteemed professors, my fellow colleagues and friends — Thank you for what you are about to give us.
The Addiction
Abel Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

A blood-soaked orgy of Biblical proportions sets fourth. It is a relief that Ken Kelsch has shot the film in black and white.

At the end of the day, Able Ferrara’s The Addiction forms a disturbing nihilistic viewpoint of human history and defeating the cravings of addictions. This viewpoint is clearly an act of provocation. Ferrara is far too smart to not understand the implications and deeply problematic ideas that spring forth from this perverse ideology.

I would not want to know a person who isn’t offended by aspects of this film, but I would be equally bored by an individual who would casually dismiss the film itself.

This is a masterfully crafted and intended provocation. The intent is not clear, but the viewer is left to think about what has been shown. It is The Addiction‘s intentional vibe that haunts and worries long after the film has ended.

A victim attempts to hide in a chimney as The Vampires quench their far more than their need. She is about to supply the fix that is required.
The Addiction
Able Ferrara, 1995
Cinematography | Ken Kelsch

The closing line of this incredibly disturbing film is:

“To face what we are in the end, we stand before the light and our true nature is revealed. Self-revelation is annihilation of self.”

One part Vampire Movie, one part Intellectualism and two parts examinations of how addictions form and alter us, The Addiction refuses to slink away into the dark corner of cinema. It demands your attention and requires your thoughts.

Matty Stanfield, 8.2.2015

In a Q&A held in 2011 at SXSW, Rick Alverson speaks to the inspirations that led him to become a filmmaker, he recalls his childhood interest in Steven Spielberg’s films.  He finds his then fascination with Indiana Jones as both disturbing and horrifying in the power of a movie and it’s impact on his childhood identity. Alverson then recalls when he first saw Andrei Tarkovsky’s Stalker at The Film Forum when he was a young adult.

Rick Alverson
2015 Sundance Film Festival
Photograph | Larry Busacca ©Getty Images

It would be this film and it’s maker that would ultimately inspire him. Rick Alverson states that he discovered a whole new way of approaching cinema that intrigued him.. “‘Active Cinema‘ has potential for the audience to be a part of the experience as opposed to that of recipient or passive role of viewer…”  It was within Tarkovsky’s 1979’s film which is most noted for rejection of traditionally rapid editing and storytelling for a purposefully slowed pace and re-examination in how cinema speaks to “reality.”

“A man writes because he is tormented, because he doubts. He needs to constantly prove to himself and the others that he’s worth something. And if I know for sure that I’m a genius? Why write then? What the hell for?”
Stalker
Andrei Tarkovsky, 1979
Cinematography | Aleksandr Knyazhinsky & Georgi Rerberg

Indeed, when viewing Stalker the audience’s understanding of reality is limited to the slow and high contrast of brown sort of monochrome colors and rules. It is only when the film’s characters are forced into The Zone of the story where the banal and monotony restrictions of brown tones are left behind and normal rules of reality are no longer applied.It would later be in his highly controversial, debated, hated and deeply admired 2012 film, The Comedy, that he would most fully explore his opposing interests which grate against the accepted grain of American Cinema. Or as Alverson as accused typical American Film as carrying a “numbing” effect, impact and ramification. It would be difficult to not stand back and agree with his viewpoint. Most American film work is mediocre, predictable and a reflection of a culture that is at once rage-filled and complacent in following and falling into what often feels like a sort of void of tedium predictability.

“Oh, wow. So good, so funny! You’re so funny!”
The Comedy
Rick Alverson, 2012

When Rick Alverson’s The Comedy first came out it created reactions ranging from high praise to condemnation.  At the time, I was quite perplexed by AO Scott’s dismissive review. I found a great deal of “interesting perspective” on not only the main character but also the limited views I was offered of his pals. And regarding Scott’s review, there is no “critical distance” to be found in Alverson’s film. That is largely the point. The film presents white male entitlement and human cruelty without offering any evaluation or background. With an amazing cast of realistic and effective actors, all we really need to know is passively communicated in the sad eyes and pointless actions.

For Swanson and his “friends” male-bonding seems to take turns at once “intimate” and “distanced.” The one true shared aspect of male friendship is that it is usually “inappropriate.”
The Comedy
Rick Alverson, 2012

We might not like “Swanson” or any of his friends. Actually, I hated them. But viewers would need to be as equally emotionally-stunted, damaged and as casually cruel as these characters to not see the tragic darkness displayed. There is nothing “funny” about The Comedy. It is an effectively disaffected and provocative character study of disconnection, anger, and sadness that appears to be rendering Swanson and his “friends” into a state of sociopathic cruelty. To add to the audiences’ conflicting feelings is the style in which Alverson delivers his film.

Rick Alverson is a brilliantly skilled Cinematographer. Nearly every shot feels planned and subsequently artistic in composition. The “style” of The Comedy works in opposition to the ugliness of the characters’ interactions and actions. At times his cinematography offers a counter-meaning to what we “assume” is actually taking place. The opening scene is unexpected as it appears to depict some sort of erotic wrestling or messy sexually hedonistic gay orgy. As the style lets up and the frame adjusts, what appeared to be sexual in nature is just several drunk/stoned male friends “showing off” for the females who seem as uncomfortable as amused. It is a “party” gone somehow wrong. Yet no one on screen seems to realize this. Later, three of these friends gather inside a Catholic church. It is unclear why. Are they there to mock the ideas of religion and faith? Or is there some need for the comfort provided by those ideas? Either way, these men are left only with the ability to form a child-like game of moving themselves across, around and over the pews.

Tim Heidecker / Eric Wareheim / James Murphy
The Comedy
Rick Alverson, 2012

I don’t like labels. They are too easy and lazy and tend to reduce the idea of “categorization” into a form of negative judgements toward specific groups of people. And applications “labels” can often restrict understanding of what life and art offer. I’m not sure that it was Alverson’s intent to make a sweeping cultural commentary. And, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that The Comedy is horrifyingly realistic.

I know some of these men and the women who always seem to be attracted to them. I’m willing to be that most of us under the age of 50 do know these characters in one way or another. When Swanson takes a job as a “dishwasher” for an upscale restaurant, it is not out of need for money but a result of boredom. When he attempts to humiliate and rant at a stunningly beautiful waitress, she responds in kind.Their interactions are tinged with cruelty aimed at the other.

“There was something I was meaning to ask you, have you tried using the dish soap to clean out your asshole?”
Kate Lyn Sheil
The Comedy
Rick Alverson, 2012

This becomes flirtation which leads to one of the most awkward and disturbing “date” on Swanson’s small houseboat. Kate Lyn Sheil plays the waitress, and like all the female roles in this film, she is nameless. Sheil is an expert actor. When her character slips into what appears to be an epileptic seizure, Swanson just watches her partially nude character convulse. He shows no sign of concern and attempts to do nothing to protect her head or tongue. He simply watches in passive interest. As he brings her back to the docks from his anchored home. He shows no clear sign of any emotional or logical register. The unnamed woman simply walks away.

Alverson’s film offers no opinion or goal. He doesn’t need to. We have become a part of the comedy. It is disturbing, sad, tragic and more than a few different commentaries on male-entitlement, rape culture, human cruelty and the way we all seem to play into it. Like the waitress we are not sure how to interpret this world. We simply interact with it as best we can. There is no joke. This idea of “comedy” does not fit.  A viewer does not always need to “like” or “empathize” with a character to find value in what is presented.

Profound, unsettling and unforgettable, The Comedy is a masterful film from all perspectives.

Tim Heidecker as Swanson
The Comedy
Rick Alverson, 2012

How could a Film Critic as intelligent and “tuned-in” as A.O. Scott is not discover this within the movie? Perhaps it is just too grim. The joke or comedy is on us. It is a bold and subversive idea. One that most likely was just too perverse and real for many to “digest.” Over 3 years later, cinephiles still discuss and debate this film. I suspect The Comedy will always cause mixed feelings and reactions. This seems to be a part of Alverson’s intention. It worked.

At the time of The Comedy‘s release Rick Alverson stated that the audience doesn’t want to believe. In fact, as he points out the audience almost refused to accept “the legitimacy of the thing that disturbs them. If there is even a small moment when you believe in the thing as an actuality and not as a film, if some actuality creeps in and not something that you’re accustomed to seeing on film because it is too real — it is disturbing. That’s why John Cassavetes’ films are so disturbing. I mean, Woman Under the Influence is like a fucking horror movie to me. That is why I love it. Because there are moments when ti is so uncontrolled it becomes real and he had the depthness to actually keep that in the fucking thing as opposed to throwing it on the cutting room floor.”

Alverson’s Idea of a Fucking Horror Movie
Gena Rowlands
A Woman Under the Influence
John Cassavetes, 1974

If we look back Rick Alverson’s 2010 feature-length directorial debut, The Builder, which emerged from a collaboration with the film’s lead actor Colm O’Leary — we can see many pieces of Alverson’s vision taking form.  An immigrant construction worker pursues building his perception of the ideal American house. His pursuit quickly grows to the point of obsession. Alverson provides almost no context in which we can place this builder, his desire, his obsessive focus and bewilderment when the “structure” fails to take form. It seems as if the builder takes a nose dive into isolation, financial ruin and depression.

Colm O’Leary appears to know what he is doing as
The Builder
Rick Alverson, 2010

Colm O’Leary has an interesting presence, but Alverson’s film refuses to give viewers enough information about the character to actually understand what is happening. We know that The Builder is an immigrant, we know that he has a professional reputation of sorts, we see him proceed with his goal of building this home and we begin to sense that his “idea” of the resulting construction is something far deeper than it first appears. He breaks off contact with his girlfriend, he scams some money from his mother and then turns to a friend’s generosity as more than a simple “layover” — it almost seems like our builder is hiding.

The inner-turmoil and intensifying depression within his head is never fully articulated. We are given very limited “clues” to understand his actions or his lethargy. Artfully filmed in under 90 minutes, The Builder is not without value. When I first say it I walked away unsatisfied. It was too vague for me. I could find no way of validating a film that for some reason did fascinate me.  This might have been the point. But it struck me as film without any form of “solid structure” about a “Builder” and his dream.

However, Alverson has said the reason he so loves The Builder is “because I could lose myself in the thing I could react to viscerally to the environment that made more sense to me than in my brain. The director’s responsibility is to look naively, not callously. The director’s responsibility should be to listen and to look and to look at things naively.”

Constructing a dream in a culture which no longer offers dreaming as a reality.
The Builder
Rick Alverson, 2010

There is an interesting cinematic logic here. When looking back at The Builder, our main character isn’t just reacting to what is happening to him, but maybe even more importantly — this lost man is reacting to the encroaching challenges of his environment. And this environment is far more open that to the limitation of the land on which he is trying to build. The Builder’s environment takes it all into account. Even still, nothing can change the fact that this beautifully-shot film is challenging.

Less than a year later another collaboration with Colm O’Leary would led to New Jerusalem.

Will Oldham forces Colm O’Leary to say a prayer.
New Jerusalem
Rick Alverson, 2011

Alverson’s film offers a study of two very different men trying to form a friendship for two very different reasons. The film is intimate, intense and disturbing. It is also oddly, but effectively ambiguous.  Both are employed at a tire station. Their work is labor intensive, but oppressively mundane. Colm O’Leary plays an immigrant new to the US via a stint in US Army in Afghanistan. He is clearly being pulled deep into depression. It is not entirely clear if this related to PTSD, the challenges of adjusting to life in a new land, loneliness or combination of them all. Will Oldham plays a Born Again Christian who is determined to connect with Sean and convince him that the key to life and resolving depression is faith in Jesus Christ. Or is it? Oldham’s character’s intentions for connection with Sean seem suspect.

What motivates Will Oldham’s Ike?
New Jerusalem
Rick Alverson, 2011

As a forced bond begins to form, it comes with intensity as the two begin to feel conflicted regarding the intimacy of this friendship. This is an uncomfortable exploration at male bonding. While Alverson is focused on these two specific characters, it raises challenging and largely repressed ideas regarding the needs of male bonding. Ultimately, the viewer is never clear on why these two characters put up with each other. Aversion is not interested in resolving this tension and conflict. This is an interesting choice.  On some levels, Alverson’s stubborn refusal to offer further insight is smart. But it also presents a challenge for the viewer.

What is Colm O’Leary’s Sean getting from Ike?
New Jerusalem
Rick Alverson, 2011

The audience is left with a film that manages to convey sadness, loneliness and isolation, but fails to offer any sort of emotional or narrative pay off. The viewer walks away with a great deal to think about it. The problem is that I’m not sure I was given enough information to actually feel like my thoughts are grounded to anything more than the way I perceived the limited information I was given. Both Oldham as “Ike” and O’Leary as “Sean” are exceptional in their respective roles. And Alverson’s cinematography is particularly effective. But the viewer is likely to be as confused as the two characters. It is a risky proposition as a from of cinematic satisfaction or enjoyment. Sometimes that risk pays off.

This was my viewpoint of New Jerusalem when I had first seen it, but Alverson has discussed the film at some length. His idea was not to study “male-bonding” — the idea derived from a symbiotic relationship in which both men need the other. During a SXSW Q&A held in 2011, Alverson is asked if Ike loses his faith. Aversion’s clearly states that Ike needed a receptacle for his faith so that these doubted views might reflect back to him. And Sean as receptacle refuses to provide that reflection back.

Symbiotic Needs
New Jerusalem
Rick Alverson, 2011

Alverson goes on to explain that both male characters reach a conclusion that “they do not want the other person to become true reflections of themselves. The believer needs the disbeliever and the disbeliever needs the believer.” Here we are given a unique perspective on how people bond. What might at first appear a need to help or teach is actually a misunderstanding of actual need. Ike would only be disappointed if Sean agreed with him. This on-going struggle is a part of the reason they both reach for the other. They are both lost and need the other to validate their own separate but equally conflicted identities.

Which brings us to Rick Alverson’s latest and most full realized film, Entertainment. Magnolia Film is distributing and it will be released soon.

“Why? Why?! Why!?!?!!?”
Gregg Turkington as The Comedian
Entertainment
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

The film also marks the first time Alverson has surrendered the duties of Cinematographer to another artist. The film’s look is starkly different than his first three movies. Lorenzo Hagerman has applied a sometimes neon-like, deserted and mirror-reflected world which is clearly Alverson’s vision, but also recalls a new influence for the filmmaker. There is something very Stanley Kubrick about Entertainment. It is difficult for me to articulate, but both in look and tone I sense some Kubrickism going down. It works to good impact in Alverson’s new and strange and experimental cinematic vision. The link to Kubrick is most-likely very lose as there is no way to not realize we are watching a Rick Alverson film as it unspools. It has a most definite Surrealism running through it. This is reality, but it is skewed by loneliness, isolation and the fragmentary trajectory of the comedian’s tour of the road.

Failing, Aging and A Dead-Beat Father, The Comedian tries to sleep…
Entertainment
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

Gregg Turkington is a failing and aging comic. He is in the midst of a tour that seems to be trapped in the California desert. Run-down venues, tacky Negative-Americana tourist attractions and the eccentricities of this world are aimed full force at “The Comedian.” He pushes forward in what is most likely an unattainable successful chance at a career in Hollywood. He tries in vain to regain a connection to his daughter. His point of view, reasonings and his jokes continue to come against the clash of audiences, family and friends. Each encounter and experiences seems to escalate his Existential Crisis as well as formed into further Surrealism that threaten to pull him loose from the grip of reality into delusion.

Gregg Turkington and Tye Sheridan both looking in the mirrors, but what is being reflected?
Entertainment
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

The only comfort he can find is to more and more take on his exaggerated onstage persona. Constantly struggling for center stage, acceptance, success and connection he is pulled further and further down a sort of rabbit hole. Entertainment was formed by a collaboration between Alverson and Tarkington (AKA Neil Hamburger.) This is an interesting, but unsurprising collaboration. Rick Alverson has always seemed to have a connection to the underground comic movement. And as Gregg Tarkington’s work is largely tied up in on-stage persona comic-art-pieces the resulting film makes sense. The stand-up ideas come directly from Tarkington, but all else appears to be coming from Alverson. This is an enchantingly twisted, surreal, odd and encaging sort of horror-comedy. All of it seems largely rooted in the role of performer, identity, isolation and above all else human loneliness.

In an interview conducted earlier this year for Beyond Cinema, both Alverson and Tarkington were asked, “What was the seed of this movie?”

Alverson didn’t seem to need to even think about it: “A mutual disdain for certain things and curiosity as well as like-minded interest with trouble-making.”

However, Rick Alverson goes on to explain that with Entertainment, was largely a way for him to take “cinematic tropes” or cliches one all too-often sees reflected in film. Not only does he not like them, he feels this type of cinema minimizes what art should be intended to maximize. In other words, Alverson is seeking to subvert the ideas of recurring, rhetorical devices, motifs and other cinematic cliches in Entertainment. As he pointed out to Beyond Cinema, using a depiction “of a desert as a place of spiritual transformation or renewal is ridiculous and problematic. I hate metaphors.” He adds with a spark of energy, “I use them in this movie like building blocks in contending with all these ideas of representation,” Rick Alverson seeks to upset our cliched ideas.”

Waiting to go “on” and “off”
Gregg Turkington
Entertainment
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

The Mojave Desert, a doppelgänger, a recurring use of mirrors, reflections, self-reflections all point to loneliness and the horrific idea of losing your identity within a made up character. It is a dark and cynical viewpoint. Ultimately our Comedian views his audience as his enemies who seem to have played a major role in his formation of his persona. But we are not as easily deceived as The Comedian. This persona is an invocation of his own addiction, depression and self-loathing. Assistance from a chemo-therapist who presents a world that only leads him to an even darker view of the world. Cinematographer, Lorenzo Hagerman, utilizes different lenses of color to further throw everything off balance.

The Comedian‘s opening act or performer seems to taunt him with his youth and seems to be hellbent on stealing the show from his headliner. As the movie along we meet The Comedian‘s obsession with Mexican Soap Operas, an awkward reunion with his cousin, played with a comically-confused-state-of-consciouness by John C. Reilly, or getting a tour of a celebrity home, an uncomfortable situation with a stranger played by Michael Cera and to the film’s most disturbing and deeply odd scene which takes place in a roadside public bathroom.

Best not to discuss this scene until the film arrives in cinemas. Let’s just say it takes us to level of the grotesque one will not easily forget.

Gregg Turkington’s The Comedian visits his oddly-off cousin, John C. Reilly.
“Where is the growth potential?”
Entertainment
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

Rick Alverson dismantles our “Cinematic Tropes” with ease as The Comedian‘s world begins at a panic of about a 4 till we reach the truly nightmarish level of panic screeching off the charts. In the end, the only possibility is an escape into a damaged mind’s imagination. Entertainment is unforgettable. It should not be missed. The thing to keep in mind, once you let this movie “in” you’re not likely to shake it off very easily.

Entertainment
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

As John C. Reilly’s seemingly “drug-challenged” character awkwardly observes The Comedian, “Yer tryin’ to tell jokes and make people happy. That’s what’s important.” Within a few minutes screen time John C. Reilly’s character pushes The Comedian, “Where are ya at? Where is this leadin’ you? Where’s the growth potential?” But The Comedian’s cousin is really only partially there.

In my head our protagonist is roaming the heat and cold of the desert trying to figure out “Why?” and “What’s so funny?”  This time around, I’ve a feeling that Alverson’s vision is going to be a better fit into the minds of audiences. At least I hope so. I’m not the only one waiting to see where Rick Alverson will take us next.

ENTERTAINMENT
Rick Alverson, 2015
Cinematography | Lorenzo Hagerman

Rick Alverson’s Entertainment will be officially released on November 13th in limited release to cinemas and iTunes. Don’t miss it.

Matty Stanfield, 8.7.2015

As the bass, drums and orchestra kick in and we can hear Cher start to sing:

“Well I’m hell on wheels, I’m a roller mama. I can slide down places that you never knew. Try me on for size at the roll-a-rama.
If you tie my laces then I’ll follow you. Follow you! Follow you!!!
See something I like, gonna go for it
See something I want, I’m gonna go after it
See something I like, gonna go for it
See something I want… Let’s roll! Hell on wheels!! Let’s roll! Come on roll with me!
I roll at a quarter till three yeah
Let’s rock! Hell on wheels!  Let’s roll!
Come on rock with me! I’ll make you feel so free! Yeah! Look out!!! “(voice echo effect)

Thus begins the infamous 1979 Roller Disco Movie which promises us “love on wheels!”

Cher croons a warning: “Look Out!”
Linda Blair & Jim Bray
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

The 1970’s were a strange time. Gone were the revolutionary / political activism of the 1960’s. As our nation crossed over the years of 1969 to 1971, the idea of peace and love were starting to fade. By the time American Culture slipped in the haze of the 1970’s, people were more concerned with giving The World a Coke than offering peace and love. Chairs began to fully form into vinyl sacks filled with “bean-like” substances. Colors that should never have gone together were thought to match. Suspenders were no longer a utility, they were a multi-colored/glittered fashion statement. Men in Southern California and NYC began “perming” their hair. Blow-dyers were not something limited to the hairdresser, by 1974 this item was anticipated to be in every woman’s home. By 1978 every human being was expected to own a blow-dryer. Wings were no longer just for angels — they were for your hair. Your very dry/brittle hair. Drug use for mind-expansion quickly became a tool for fun and escape. Sexuality was no longer an aspect of “free love.” Sexuality was almost required of anyone over 16 as a political state of independence.

“Feels sooooo good. Sooooo good.”
Donna Summer
Giorgio Moroder
I Feel Love, 1977

The concept of The Sexual Revolution took a sharp left turn toward The Hedonistic. Love and sex became two very different things. The people who came of age in the mid-1970’s had rocks to love. This would be the era when gay men finally took a stand. Many of these men were especially trapped within the confusion of 70’s sexuality. Sex was not just for enjoyment is was an assertion of a human right — And, it was for all the world to see. Despite all the tackiness and odd ideas — Bataka Bats, anyone? Earth Shoes? Male half-shirts? Mini-shorts with tube socks? Bell-Bottom jeans? Special chain guards for bell-bottom pant wearing hipsters? The Brady Bunch? Battle of the Network Stars? Jeff & Pink Lady? The Bay City Rollers? Herpes?

Battle of the Network Stars

Sadly it would take us till about 1982 to fully realize how lame it all was. Not that we aren’t “nostalgic” for some of it, but I’m not sure any of us would be interested in having an elementary school Guidance Counselor make us hit her puppet with the Bataka Bat she kept in the corner of her tiny space. And while it is fun to watch Jeff & Pink Lady or Battle of the Network Stars on YouTube for a couple of minutes, would any of us really want to spend an entire weekend binging on them?

If there were ever a sign that the 1970’s were a profoundly horrible era for all of us it was the advent of a Euro-idea that transformed into what we call “Disco.” In fact, everything started to go firmly downhill after Disco thumped its way into our hearts and collective culture. As the fun offered by the multi-colored flashing floors of the discotheque started to become a bit tired, the situation took a very fast slip into an odd sensation that would sweep not only the US but Canada as well!

At the time it must have made sense. But it would appear that with a simple blink of the eye, Roller Rinks which had been content for us all to skate along with Billy Swan crooning “I Can Help” or Grand Funk Railroad’s reworking of “The Locomotion” suddenly magically became Disco Roller-A-Ramas. I remember being a child at a friend’s innocent Roller Rink Birthday Party when “Disco Duck” and “I Feel Love” began to throb throughout the huge space. The lights dimmed and glitter balls began to twirl. Multi-colors spraying out in all directions. Suddenly, KISS was no longer rockin’ our world. No. It was that quick. Rick Dees, Donna Summer  and The Bee Gees has replaced Grand Funk, The Bay City Rollers, Peter Frampton, Heart, Fleetwood Mac and Dear Sweet God — Billy Swan!!! It only took our little heads a couple of minutes to find our rhythm regain appropriate sway. Our wheels took to this new level of pulse once they began to roll across the throbbing wooden floor.

Roller Disco Dancin’ Baby!

Soon we were rollin’ and disco’ing our way around the circular run that was our Roller Rink. We were not simply roller skating. No way, Baby. We were Disco Roll-A-Rama Skating. We were 7 and 8 years old hip disco rollers! And, for about 3 weeks it seemed cool.

Now. Before we engage in any discussion of Disco and the sad tilt down the ramp of Disco Roller Skating which would call Hollywood to take up any slack that might be left in our degenerate swag — we must discuss the American Anomaly we all call Cher.

Cher is more than ready to roll…
Photograph | Harry Langdon, 1979

Yes, you know who she is. And you are lying if you do not own some music or a movie featuring her unique skill and talent.

Hey! You! Yeah, you! Super Cool Rock Dudes! No! Even you can’t escape the bitter truth!

Think about it. That was Cher on the cover of the now iconic Rod Stewart LP cover. And, take a deep breath, Cher rocked it down hard with Gregg Allman and his brothers. And if you’ve still not fallen prey to the truth: Cher was also gettin’ down with Gene Simons of KISS. If for some reason you refuse to admit any claim to Cher, check with the person nearest to you.

Gene Simmons and Cher
…eating a wiener.
c. 1979
Photographer | Unknown to me

One of the two you have listened, watched and paid for Cher and her follies. They even gave her an Oscar!

One could debate if Cher really understood how “jacked” into the fleeting “cool” moments of our collective culture at just the right times. Back in the day, Cher’s motives do not seem as calculated as her fellow celebrities and artists. But none can deny that some sort of Divine Benevolence has always guided Cher to the epicenter of cool.

Sonny & Cher
c. 1966
Photograph | Michael Ochs

When she cut her own “bangs” and put on an ugly-ill-fitting sort of vest and sang “The Beat Goes On” with her Svengali-like husband, how could she have known it was jet her to a level of fame beyond understanding? Even later in the late 1960’s and very early 70’s as the Sonny & Cher records screeched to a stop, she would follow Sonny to Las Vegas. They made a great deal of money in the “unhip” Vegas. Their style and Cher’s sarcasm turned Vegas toward a new kind of cool. Not far behind them would be the likes of Tony Orlando & Dawn, Diana Ross and Streisand. True, they would make more money — but it is doubtful that they would have made the trek to that Frank Sinatra/Dean Martin saturated world first. Does anyone really think that an early 70’s Streisand went to Vegas because Liberace asked her? No. She and the others flocked there because Cher went there first. It was around this time that Cher would follow Sonny to the land of TV. They were a hit for a quick year or two. She stumbled into Warren Beatty who she decided to sleep with because she had nothing better to do. As Sonny & Cher began to fade and tabloids reported of a tryst with Beatty and her divorce.  Cher happened to meet a

Does Cher’s 1974 album cover remind you of Stevie Nick’s Belladonna Album of 1981? …Cher Factor!
Cher
Dark Lady, 1974
Fashion | Calvin Klein
Photograph | Richard Avedon

then major Power-Broker who had yet to achieve household fame, David Geffen. Sure Beatty just wanted to score and Geffen was about as Gay as Gay gets, but Cher didn’t realize either of these things. No, she simply liked Geffen and he found true fame with her at his side. She also found her way into Studio 54.  At the time, many hipsters of the day doubted Cher had what it took to party among the NYC Elites of Andy Warhol, Mick Jagger and Sylvester. But come on. We are talking about Cher. Her entry into the doors of Studio 54 was at the exact moment it became mainstream noticed. And while we cannot directly link Cher to the drug addictions of Liza Minnelli, Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gary Valentine, but many suspect that The Cher Factor is at least partially to blame.

Cher liked Disco music. She deemed it fun and cool. Yet, she would not run to the recording studio to record it. No. She was too busy with Gregg Allman, his brothers, Gene Simons, KISS and toying with idea of staring in some Anti-Vietnam movie called Coming Home and even a remake of A Star Is Born. These would have been logical, sound and smart marketable choices. But Cher was busy. No, not with a TV Show or in a recording studio. She was busy figuring out Aerobics.  This was long before Barbra Streisand, Goldie Hawn and Jane Fonda even put a toe in the gym. Yes, true fact. 

And while Ms. Fonda marketed Aerobics & Fitness to the masses and made millions. It was because her two pals, Barbra Streisand and Goldie Hawn were discussing politics over odd bodily contortions. But Streisand and Hawn only showed up to the Aerobic Studio because Cher was bending her body in positions that remain a thing of un-photographed legend. Tragically, these career opportunities were just for fun for Cher. She didn’t make any real money from these things.

Putting up the Cher Take Me Home billboard.
LA, 1979

When Cher finally turned away from the sound of Rock and California-Country-Rock toward the Disco she had been playing within, she was a bit late in recording it as her sound. It would be in the mid-point of 1979 before Cher would find her way into Bob Esty’s Disco Studio. She scored a hit single with Take Me Home plus Barry Levine captured her in Bob Mackie designed “Cher Disco Armor!” on an album cover. That album didn’t sell badly, but it didn’t sell great. But her one single sold.

Cher
Bob Mackie Disco Armor!
Take Me Home, 1979
Photograph | Barry Levine

Cher was the Secret Pioneer, but she was no marketing/selling match compared to Barbra Streisand’s The Main Event single or far less compared to the infamous and iconic Power-Diva-Duel that would become the Streisand/Summers’ massive hit, No More Tears (Enough is Enough.)  We have no real way of knowing if Cher was bothered. I mean Donna Summer was sitting on an old-fashioned Radio and Barbra was soaked Wet and looking more than a little bit confused. Just as audiences had rushed to see Jane Fonda in Coming Home and Streisand in A Star Is Born, Dolly Parton and Linda Ronstadt secured the concept of country-pop-rock and translated them into big hits. And of course, it would be Jane Fonda who would whisk past Cher as well as Streisand/Hawn to Aerobic Glory.

I must apologize. I have just taken us into the 1980’s.  OK. Let’s kick it back a couple of years. Cher has already decided she should endeavor to make a Disco record, but it would have to wait a few months.

Why?

Well, Cher was far too busy having fun. True, her second marriage wrecked in under several weeks, a new baby arrived, an eager young daughter and a frustrated Gene Simons simply refused to join her. But she left one issue and three individuals with the Nanny(s) and took off to Brooklyn.

Why would Cher skip over to Brooklyn and out Studio 54? And you must remember:  just Studio 54 was really only heating up with the Ride of The White Horse. And things between Debbie Harry and Truman Capote/Andy Warhol were forming into Art as Jessica Lange wedged her way between Mikhail Baryshnikov’s coke spoon and an increasingly frantic yet dazzling Liza were catching the public’s interest.

Why bother with Studio 54?
Cher
Brooklyn Disco Roll-A-Rama, c. 1976
Photographer | Unknown to me

You see, in early 1977, one had to go to Brooklyn to Disco Roller Skate in true style. Cher rolled out a whole new type of fashion into her excursion into The World of The Roll-A-Rama Disco! Skates had to match the outfits and the outfits had to be sexy, fun and provocative! Bob Mackie was her real friend and was more than happy to assist. She owned that rink in all her see-through glitter costumed glory!

Cher
Boobies by Cher
Dress by Bob Mackie
Photograph | Harry Langdon

The only reason her agent and Bob Esty was able to drag Cher out of that rink was because she had heard —  in what one can safely assume was presented in the form of a plea to her — Cher finally admitted that she was Disco Roller Skating Fanatic. Bob Esty worked like a speed-freak with Michele Aller to compose a song called, Hell on Wheels. It only took the mention that they written what they considered a true Disco Roller Skating Anthem to get Cher and her family back to LA to record that song. She also ended up recording enough songs to fill two albums which were largely fueled by the Disco Sound.

Cher is Disco-Rollin’ with un-named friend. The Disco Boobies and the Disco Skating that would inspire a Hollywood Marathon Sprint!
c. 1977
Photographer | Unknown to me

One problem: This was now 1979 and the Anti-Disco Movement was building momentum. Cher barely had time to squeak out one hit. This now leads us away from Cher directly to an atrocity that her Factor helped to fuel in The Land of Hollywood. However, in all fairness to Cher — she probably knew nothing of the impact of her actions and Disco Anthem.

Hollywood had no problem with grabbing onto Disco Culture, but the subculture of Disco Roller Skating would allude their radar. The executives should have been paying better attention to The Cher Factor. But to be fair, none of us did. The Cher Factor is usually so far-ahead of the Cultural Curve that it is only obvious with the gift of hindsight.

Irwin Yablans had been an instinctive film producer. He was inspired by Cher’s sheer Disco Roller Skating Boobies images and got wind that she was about to record a Disco album! Irwin Yablans, in some ways is like Cher. He didn’t really need to put on the skates. The bump, grind and jiggle of Cher’s meshed boobs was all he needed for cinematic inspiration.

The single that failed to chart until Roller Boogie which it would help to inspire.
The Cher Factor
Cher
Hell On Wheels, 1979
from the Prisoner album
Photograph | Harry Langdon

Remember, the world of film would not have John Carpenter’s Halloween had Yablans not suggested the idea of a babysitter serial killer slasher movie to the young director. So when Yablans suggested the idea of a Disco Roller Disco movie to screenwriter, Barry Schneider, he quickly wrote what became Roller Boogie. There seems to have been a brief period when the Yablans’ project was stalled. Apparently, Schneider wanted the male lead to be a struggling song-writer and the lead actress to be the solid Disco-Rollin’ Mama. For whatever reason, this idea didn’t suit Irwin.

He was also not particularly easy in appealing to “the R-Rated Adult Audience” demographic. Kids. Irwin wanted to pull in and do it for the kids. And to do that the leading man would need to be an instant winner and cool.

When they were ready to, um, roll, Linda Blair was their first and only choice for the Leading lady.

Linda Blair
Hollywood, c. 1977
Photographer | Unknown to me

Linda Blair had instant name recognition, she was hot but not too hot and she could be had on the “cheap.” This had nothing to do with her talent or her fame. This was because she had recently laid claim to negative  “infamy.”  Yep. Poor Linda had strayed from the world of Demons and Rick Springfield and had found her way into the world of real rock, via Lynyrd Skynyrd and cocaine. I’m not quite clear on how that band came into play, but it did. There are a number of photographs from 1975 to 1977 that feature Linda with Ronnie Van Zant. Anyway, poor Linda had gotten into some trouble. But she was no Lindsey Lohan! She got it together pretty darn quick.

I’m not sure any of us want to understand how Linda became close to this dude and his fellow-brilliant musicians. But it was probably not a very good idea…
Linda Blair and Ronnie Van Zant
c. 1975
Photographer | Unknown to me

For Irwin Yablans and his limited budget there was only one choice for his Leading Man. True he did initially agree to Linda Blair’s request that he cast her then boyfriend. But by the times the cameras were ready to roll, she had kicked him to the curb. So there was only one choice. On paper, it would make sense to cast Jim Bray in the leading male role because he was a big deal within the Roller Skating World an “artistic roller skating champion,” but in reality it was probably a poor choice. It still puzzles me why they didn’t pull Jimmy Van Patten from out of the supporting cast and into the lead. Jim Bray was able to skate, but he wasn’t particularly great-looking and was — well — kind of scrawny with no real charisma. Jimmy Van Patten is clearly dying to jump to the head of the class, he was well built, better looking and just cooler.

The other issue with Bray in the male lead is that he just seems “small” next to Linda Blair.

Let’s Roll! Let’s Rock!
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

It is here that I find it essential to contradict something to which people always refer: Linda Blair was not fat. She was not the slim, in-shape beauty she is today — but, seriously, Linda Blair was not fat. She was seriously hot. Even in The Age of Disco, most straight dudes would have gone for Linda over any 3 of the Charlie’s Angels.

Why? Because she was naturally hot and nothing seems “high-maintenance” about her. She is accessibly hot. However, when Mark L. Lester has stand her next to a 95lbs guy like Jim Bray — it looks “off.” This is why there are so many shots of both by themselves or shots together are carefully framed so that Bray’s skinny physique is not interacting with Blair in obvious ways.

A tender moment…
Jim Bray / Linda Blair
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

But then again, Jim Bray is one of the odd-fitting pieces that help to make the Cinematic-Taint we all love called Roller Boogie. Had the equally hot Jimmy Van Patten played opposite Linda Blair, Mark L. Lester and Yablans probably would not have felt it important to cut “the not quite R-rated sex” scene. This was not cut because it would have gained an R-rating — it was cut because I think we can all admit it would have been “uncomfortable” to think about Linda doing the deed with Jim Bray. Poor Jimmy Van Patten. It would be his younger brother, Vincent Van Patten, who would get his day in the sun with Linda Blair in the R-rated Hell Night. Wait. Maybe we should feel more sorry for Vincent.

Back to focus:

Production of Roller Boogie went fast. It had to. Just as they went into production — Columbia Studios was financing a bigger budgeted Roller Disco Movie staring Scott Baio, Marcia Brady, Ruth Buzzi, Playboy’s Dorothy Stratten, the screen debut of Patrick Swayze and the sought-after prize that was Flip Wilson. This movie was called Skatetown, U.S.A. As it turned out, this turned out not to be a problem.

Skatetown USA
Cinematic Error
Trust me, the poster is the only entertaining thing to be found in this movie.

Columbia and Rastar did beat Yablans to the screen by 2 months, but Skatetown, U.S.A. was DOA upon arrival to the cinemas. There was also a great deal of pressure to get the production filmed before Poor Linda had to be in front of a judge in Florida to face the music for her post-Exorcist II: The Hertic-Lynyrd Skynyrd-Cocaine Adventure of 1977. Production completed just in time for Linda to catch her plane and Jim Bray to visit Studio 54! Roller Boogie might have not arrived until December of 1979, 2 months after Skatetown, U.S.A., and more than several months after the Historic Disco Demolition Night — but Linda Blair and Jim Bray in Roller Boogie were a hit. Skatetown, U.S.A. was a major flop and only sounds good-bad fun. It is actually just very bad.

Still much disco work to be done through 1981. Disco had a slower death than many expected.
Andy Gibb
After Dark Magazine

And while Disco Demolition Night did have some significant impact, Disco Culture was not quite done yet. Disco would not fully die until early 1981. Just in time for the ULTIMATE big-budget Disco Roller Skating Movie, Xanadu, to arrive. Xanadu’s soundtrack sold well, but the movie tanked.

Here is my challenge: The Notorious & Much-Beloved Roller Boogie was recently restored and re-issued to Blu-Ray by Olive Films. I was asked to review it. But you know I think I can sum up Roller Boogie fairly fast. Almost as fast as The Disco Roll-A-Rama Fad.

Linda Blair cruising with her best friend, Big Tits.
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

Linda Blair is a classically trained flutist who doesn’t really appear to know how to play the flute. Her mastery of the flute reminds one of another oblong thing. Linda Blair gently massages her flute while teasingly gently blowing upon it’s head. Get your mind out of the gutter! The head of the flute! Linda’s flute-ing appears to be “sync’d” in. Anyway, her mom is the Step Mom from My Three Sons. And she is stressed-out! Linda’s Daddy is really rich. He gives Linda everything she wants except her freedom to really get her roll on! She has two friends: One is female. I can never recall her friend’s name. I call her Big Tits. Her other friend is a an early version of geek+Yuppy.

“Hmmm. Should I let it slip a little further down?” giggles. “NO!”
Linda Blair in her closet
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

Linda contemplates the weary challenges of being rich, forced manipulation of a flute and best friend, Big Tits, who claims to be her age but is probably lying. Linda is pretty sure Big Tits is pushing 30. So it is time to change clothes and do what she needs to do!

“Outfit. Check. Skates. Check.”
Linda Blair
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

“OK. Hot enough!”
Linda Blair
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

“I’m outta here!”
Linda Blair
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

Linda gets fed up and drives her sleek and way-cool car that has a telephone in it! She goes where all wealthy Beverly Hills girls go to rebel and be cool – Venice Beach!

The flute can wait! I gotta learn how to disco roller skate!
Linda Blair on what I believe is an early form of a cell phone attached to her fancy car.
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

Here she happens to notice a Totally Hot Stud, Jim Bray!,  who we have already had the benefit of seeing — but as he rolls up, Linda is unable to escape his boy-ish charm. He lives in a seedy hotel! (only we the viewers seem to be aware that Jim Bray is most likely a rent boy who skates to peddle his ass, but this may not really be true) — Anyway, Linda works her permed-giggly charm on Jim. She had him at her  brief confusion determining if he is her leading man and not some gay hooker who rolled up on the set.

Whoa! Wait. Is that the leading man? Oh, yes. Well he is ONE HOT HUNK OF A MAN!!! …in mini-shorts, tube socks, skating around Venice Beach. No worries.
Jim Bray doing his best
Roller Boogie
Marl L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

One thing leads to another and Jim teaches Linda how to Disco Roller Skate. He really had to — she already had all of the wardrobe and the skates. She just needed the skill. In truth, I think Linda was just using the Disco Skate Lessons as a ploy. She wants him. She clearly knows how to dance. The real “training” seems to be in this frail hustler’s ability to “lead” and “lift” anything above 30lbs.

So far so good. Now Jim, turn and hoist Linda above your head!
Jim Bray / Linda Blair
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

But he masters it. Linda’s friends and family do not accept her interest in pursing this Cher-like lifestyle. She has to go to Juilliard and sign with some classy classical music label to play the flute! Jim’s friends, who are all a way lot better-looking — especially the Van Patten boy, all like Linda and Big Tits!

Jim’s pals!
Little Jimmy Van Patten in yellow. Are you sure he is not Linda’s leading man?
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

But they worry that she is going to crush his heart. Also he’s not bringing in his share of the sex bread. He is spending way too much time skating around with Linda. And she’s not paying! Jammers is Jim’s Disco Roll-A-Rama of choice. Cue Audience: “Of course it is!”  But Jammers is about to go down due to some shady deal to build senior housing. Senior Citizen’s don’t need housing on Venice Beach! Not when the kids need Jammers! Comic mayhem ensues! It all comes to a head and a happy conclusion at the Big Jammer’s Roller Boogie Competition!

And, Hoist! The Winners!
Linda Blair/ Jim Bray
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

Linda & Jim want to win! And all of Jim’s pals and Big Tits cheer them on. They win! And Jammers beats the evil attempt to take away their Disco Roller Fun!

In the end, Jim and Linda take a sunset walk. Yes. A walk. Not a disco roll. They love each other, but they need to take care of few personal issues first. Linda has to achieve Flute control and fame in NYC. And, Jim explains to her that he is going to take his Disco Roller Skating skill to the US Olympics!

Time to put our roller disco love on hold.
Linda Blair / Jim Bray
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

They kiss. Linda drives away. I searched the disc for that Easter Egg feature that would at last allow me to see Linda discuss all of this with Big Tits. I could not find it! But I am fairly sure I know how Barry Schneider wrote it.

Final Scene: Airport Gate

Linda leans on Big Tits.

Linda:  I’m going to miss you sooooo much, but I’m going to miss my Jim more!

BT: Just fly him out to NYC. No major.

Linda:  Oh, no! I couldn’t do that to him. He’s on his way to disco skate for the US Olympics!

BT:   Like, Oh my God! Linda? Disco Skating is not an Olympic Sport. I mean, like, it’s barely a “thing.” As if!

Linda:  Oh, no! I need to let him know! He took the Roller Boogie prize money to get to the Olympics!”

BT:  Look. Jim is a man-hooker. Ok? He took that Roller Boogie prize money to buy some new mini-shorts.

Linda: Oh, no! Don’t be so silly! You are such a goof, Big Tits!

BT:  Look, Kiddo — you just focus on mastering the flute and the real men will be crawling to you!

Linda:  K! Byyyyeeee!

The End

Jimmy Van Patten, Coke-Fueld-Disco Skate Fan & Big Tits give a hand for Linda & Jim! Well, Van Patten is more upset that he’s not skating with Linda, but he’s doing his best.

Cue formerly failed Cher disco single.

The way I see it, if you haven’t already seen the incredibly bad-good fun that is Roller Boogie. You need to. Go on line, but the Blu-Ray or the new DVD from Olive Films. It’s cheap! You will not regret it. I think one of the main reasons Roller Boogie remains so much fun to watch and re-watch is that it is the extreme opposite of movies like Saturday Night Fever and also far better than lame movies like Skatetown, U.S.A. There is nothing “realistic” about it.

Jim laces Linda up!
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

It embraces only the fun and innocent side of things. There is plenty of room to project and talk back to the screen if you feel the need. The comedy and subplots are so very bad — they become fun. By the way, a sequel was planned, it was to be titled Acapulco Roller Boogie. Tragically, this film never came to be.

And there is The Cher Factor going down. The producers were able to use Hell On Wheels for the movie’s theme song. It was included on the mildly well selling soundtrack album.

The soundtrack for Roller Boogie featuring “a song by Cher”

However, Hell On Wheels was not recorded for the movie. This is mistake many make. This was a track off her second Disco-oriented album called Prisoner. It had been released as a single as shown far above in this post. But Roller Boogie gave the song a “re-visit” and it became a minor success. A very early Cher music video for Hell On Wheels started to gain some air-play. Even with a broken arm, Cher skillfully Disco Skated with the aid of holding onto moving cars! The vid-clip was not made for Roller Boggie. If you look close, you can still find it on YouTube. Wait. Now that I think about it. Cher’s disco vid-clip might ever very well inspired Olivia Newton-John to use video to promote her Physical album. Well, that’s The Cher Factor.

Linda Blair requests some new laces for her skates.
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

It is not clear if Cher is even aware of this movie. No one knows and no one is going to ask her. Don’t go there. Just a friendly warning.

But were it not for Roller Boogie, Cher’s Hell On Wheels would have been lost forever. …sort of like that “punk” rock album she made which was actually more like pop attempting to be New Wave.  Black Rose, anyone? It doesn’t matter. Something made her curious about this thing that used to be called Broadway. She sort of fell into a role for a Robert Altman play that became a movie. Then she “hung” out with Mike Nichols and Meryl Streep and on her way to Vegas, she took a brief stop and made a movie called Silkwood. She would have to put off her plans for Vegas for a while. She ended up making a lot of movies that made a lot of money. She had sex with Tom Cruise but rolled her eyes at the idea of Scientology and hooked-up with this cool dude who made bagels in NYC.  She won an Oscar on her way to a party Madonna was giving. She recorded some really big-selling albums in the late 80’s. She called David Letterman on his shit. Then she got bored.

The LAPD is always trying to crash the fun…
Roller Boogie
Mark L. Lester, 1979
Cinematography | Dean Cundey

Flights to Vegas were booked. So she went back to LA. She directed an acclaimed Pro-Choice HBO movie. This dude talked her into recording a pop album that used this odd microphone that changes the human voice. He was gay and kind of cute so she listened. The music reminded her of Disco and all that fun she had on skates. Several publicists explained this was not “disco” music. This was “club” or “dance” music — like Madonna only without the sex. For Cher, this was a good thing because, well, you know She was tired.

She was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. She dealt and kicked it’s ass. While the cause of this illness is still debated, I suspect we will eventually learn it is caused by being too fucking cool and independent. She did several — no, wait. I’m not sure. She did a lot of Farewell Concert Tours. She wrote a book. She did a lot more Farewell Tours. She supported her daughter when she realized that she was a he. Cher had always been generous with a buck, but made her philanthropy well known once she saw the shit with which her son had to deal.

Cher
Believe, 1998

She turned down leads in everything from Thelma & Louise to War of The Roses to a cinematic re-make of the musical Gypsy. Streisand was to direct Gypsy. Probably can’t blame Cher for turning that one down. But it does seem strange that she turned down the other two. Interestingly, as far as I am aware she has only one professional regret: An infomercial for a pal’s hair product. Yet, even this one Cher’s regretted mistake:  Her infomercial is the thing of legend.

Cher is still tired. 

Cher is not bored.

She is “creeping” about the Internet. So you better watch your ass!  I’m not kidding. She will take you down. Don’t be giving Cher shit.

Cher
c. 1981
Photograph | Harry Langdon

Cher stopped taking shit after they took her Disco Roller Skates away.  Never underestimate The Cher Factor. Seriously, you will regret it.

Somehow Cher is always correct. And Roller Boogie remains a very fun watch!

Matty Stanfield, 8.8.15

In the final act of William Friedkin’s 1973 iconic film, The Exorcist, the film’s struggling priest and his wiser elder discuss the nature of evil, how to address it and how to understand it’s logic:

“Especially important is the warning to avoid conversations with the demon. We may ask what is relevant but anything beyond that is dangerous. He is a liar. The demon is a liar. He will lie to confuse us. But he will also mix lies with the truth to attack us. The attack is psychological, Damien, and powerful. So don’t listen to him. Remember that – do not listen.”

Why her? Why this little girl?
Max von Sydow
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

“Why her? Why this girl?”
“I think the point is to make us despair. To see ourselves as animal and ugly. To make us reject the possibility that God could love us.”

The Exorcist first arrived to cinemas in December of 1973. This film’s reception and the reactions it caused are of historical note. Financed and distributed by Warner Brothers the movie caused fear, panic attacks, a couple of heart attacks, repulsion, anger and accusations of “blasphemy.”  While The Exorcist is essentially a Supernatural Horror Film, William Friedkin’s epic film was approached with a level of realism and artistry that could not be refuted. It was a highly artistically-valid film. As for being an exploitive use of a child actor and blasphemy, well The Vatican gave this film the seal of approval. It was even blessed for “realistically depicting demonic evil.” Cue priests, nuns, ministers and most God-fearing people line up and see it.

Marketing The Exorcist was challenging for Warner Brothers. It was clear to everyone that this was more than just a horror film. This early poster was rejected.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973

If one is able to take pause and look at Friedkin’s film independent of it’s source novel and The Vatican, this movie also offers an interesting spin on the state of American Culture at the beginning of the 1970’s.

Another “mock-up” idea for promoting that felt a little too After School Special for most at Warner Brothers.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973

It can easily be summed up as metaphor for the feeling that parents had lost control of their children amid the emergence of “Anti-Establishment Movement” to “Sexual Revolution” to “Drug Culture” to the ever-increasing power of Rock rebellion.

Eureka! And Warner Brothers creates an iconic marketing campaign by using an “altered” shot from the movie itself.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

Both the novel and film also indirectly address the tragic side of becoming a priest. The film conveys that Jason Miller’s Priest is something more to his best priest buddy. While his friend seems to be able to repress his sexual desires, it appears to be bit more of a strain for Miller’s “Father Karras” a repressed and guilt-ridden former boxer who has escaped into the Priesthood as much to do good as to escape his all-too moral desires. Interestingly, the self-proclaimed Atheist mother find it easier to accept that her daughter might be possessed by The Devil than this conflicted priest. This film is also examining the impact of repression and the reasons men decide to become priests. Granted, it is in a somewhat passive way, but it is there.

“Stick your cock up her ass, you motherfucking worthless cocksucker.” Whether it by taunting into Father Karras’ most repressed fears of self-identity or by picking at his guilt for not having cared for his mother the way he feels he should have — this demon knows the priest better than he knows himself.
Subliminal Experimental Editing – so fast you can almost mess it.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

No matter how you want to interpret or view The Exorcist – the power of this infamous film is beyond denial. I remember sitting in sold-out huge Boston cineplex auditorium in 2000 to see the “Restored” and the “Version I Had Never Seen.”  I was actually curious to see how a modern day audience would react to this early 1970’s film. I think I was expecting that we would all find the movie darkly comic. I was wrong. This was the normal “cineplex” audience. You know, the one that freely converses, talks back to the screen and generally rude masses. True to form, as the commercials and previews screened children were screaming, teenagers were tossing candy at each other and all sorts of mayhem that will ruin a movie viewing experience for me. But as soon as The Exorcist started, the entire tone of the packed auditorium changed.

The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

By the film’s midpoint you could have heard a pin drop. Almost 30 years later, this movie was freaking us out. And it still shocks.

Which brings us to one of those long pondered questions which forever escaped logic. How did WB’s The Exorcist secure an
“R-Rating” by the MPPA in 1973? How did it reclaim that same rating 30 years later? Other far less sadistic or graphic films had been slapped with an “X-rating” and by 2000 we had seen the arrival of the dreaded “NC-17″ label. Why would the MPAA give an art film like “Henry & June” an “NC-17″ and “The Exorcist” an “R-Rating?”

One of the tamer blasphemies of Holy Icons
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1971
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

Granted, neither or films for children, but if I were a parent and asked to pick which of these two films were “less appropriate” for a child under 17 years of age — I would select The Exorcist. I think most would.

A sweet little girl transformed into murderous and blasphemous monster.
Linda Blair watches her Exorcist die a painful death with a mix of interest and annoyance. She didn’t get his soul.
The Exorcist
William Friedkin, 1973
Cinematography | Owen Roizman

Or maybe not? I’m not a parent. Maybe I have it wrong.

To put The Exorcist‘s “R-Rating” in perspective, in the same year the MPAA rated The Exorcist as “R” it slapped the dreaded “X-Rating” to Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now. In comparison this rating makes no sense. Luckily, Nicolas Roeg’s film had Paramount behind it’s distribution. Somehow the MPAA rethought it and relented an “R-Rating” for Roeg’s experimental film. But only two years earlier the MPAA assigned Ken Russell’s The Devils with an “X-Rating.” And, this was after WB required Ken Russell to cut out a significant amount of footage. Warner Brothers held on to two copies of Ken Russell’s original theatrical cut. While Russell’s The Devils is a provocation, it never goes anywhere near the level of having a 14 year-old girl defile herself with a crucifix.

“Hell will hold no surprises for them!”
Warner Bros marketing campaign for
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971

Interestingly much has been made about William Peter Blatty’s The Exorcist novel having been based on an actual and true incident involving a teenage boy in the 1950’s. However, when one actually looks into the “true story” much more of what actually happened is unclear. In most ways, this “true incident” appears to be largely lost within the shadows of marketing and urban legend. As grim and horrifying as The Exorcist is, both the 1973 and the 2000 versions offer the audience “hope.” This is a hope grounded in faith and the power of good over evil. There is nothing at all wrong with that. But it does seem a flimsy excuse to let it pass with an “R-Rating” when Friedkin’s more recent independent movie, Killer Joe, was given an “NC-17.”

Interesting to note that until the MPAA introduced the “NC-17-Rating” — The official “X-Rating” was actually less restrictive in number of states. It was left to individual states and cinemas to determine the age restricted. News to me.

In Kirby Dick’s 2006 documentary, This Film Is Not Rated, hidden cameras and a number of covert activities were utilized to break in to the odd world of Motion Picture Association of America’s rating system. The documentary revealed several things, but only one was surprising: Every screening held by the individuals who are “chosen” to serve as raters is blessed by both a Christian Minister and a Catholic Priest. While neither is supposed to lecture or push any decision of the raters, they are free to include whatever they wish in their blessings.

And here is the answer to the mysterious reasoning behind The Exorcist rating. It is Vatican approved.

Father Granier’s use of The Confessional is questionable to say the least.
Georgina Hale / Oliver Reed
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

It may contain graphic and obscene scenes of blasphemy, but it has a Catholic Intent. The priests fix it all! Or at least it seems to be thought.

The intent of Killer Joe is to satire the impact of greed on marginalized lower-class family dysfunction.

As for Ken Russell’s The Devils? The intent is aimed as satirizing both politics and religion. It depicts both fundamental aspects of most human life as opportunities for corruption, greed, ambition and power.

Graham Armitage as France’s King Louis XIII performs for Cardinal Richelieu, his assistant nuns and a slew of The French Royal Court’s most depraved. The Catholic Church doesn’t mind The King’s sins, they just want to share in the power and the wealth…
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Oh, and unlike The Exorcist — The Devils is actually based on “historic fact.” I only put that in quotation marks because I am referring to 17th Century French history. However, the sources and descriptions of the events that Russell fictionalizes in The Devils tie much closer to what he shows us than anything of truth connected to The Exorcist. This means The Devils depicts a very scary moment in both French and Catholic history in which greed and power not only “suggested” nuns to blaspheme,

The Ursuline nuns are not there by choice, but because they form society’s rejects. Repressed and Caged. They do not require too much in the way of pressure from The Catholic Church to slip into hysteria that quickly morphs into Satanic blasphemy.
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

a primary Cardinal and his priests most likely “required” their nuns to comply or face torture — nothing is too much to  a rebellious priest and assist the Catholic Church forge closer to a demented French King. Ken Russell didn’t even feel it necessary to change any of the actual names of the individuals who have already been forged into history.

This might explain Warner Brothers refusal to relinquish Ken Russell’s infamous and acclaimed 1971 art film, The Devils. Restoration of this film is of growing concern to Film Historians and Film Art Preservationists. Film only lasts so long and only WB knows where and how their 2 copies of The Devils are being stored. WB is not known to always apply a great deal of logic to their catalog. And they have an essential collection of cinematic work.

In many ways, Mother Superior, Sister Jeanne of the Angels, is the only “innocent” character in this film. She is ill and then sexually-assulted by Exorcists and Priests to extract false confession. From the very beginning we know she is hanging on to sanity by a string.
Vanessa Redgrave
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Going into it’s 45th year, this film may soon be lost forever unless WB takes care of it or releases it to a company who will. As you read this you might feel the need to roll your eyes or dismiss it, but this is worse than censorship: it comes at the risk of losing a valuable piece of cinematic history.

While I’m not sure one could state that Ken Russell’s The Devils is a better film than Friedkin’s The Exorcist.  William Friedkin made the better film. The Exorcist is a cinematic masterpiece. No questions asked.

Ken Russell’s cinematic work is challenging. An eccentric British filmmaker, he shares more in common with the films of Michael Powell or even more like those of Andrzej Zulawski. Russell’s films tend to have a manic pace and no restraint. They are often bombastic, loud, crass and dangerous to know. “Women in Love” and “Tommy” are probably his two most accessible films. But his work is often magical and intellectual. In the case of The Devils, it is angry. No question that Russell was a cinematic genius. But as is the case with many genius artists, he often had a hard time restraining himself from excess and obsession.

That being stated and noting that The Exorcist is the better film. I do think a case could be argued that The Devils is an equally important film. It is also worth noting that The Exorcist has been such an influential and cultural juggernaut of world-wide scope, multiple copies in all formats exist in a number of places. The future preservation of The Exorcist is secured.

However, as time and investigations move further along — it is becoming clear that there might only be two remaining prints of The Devils as it was originally to be released in 1971. For quite a while there was thought to be a secured copy held by Ken Russell’s daughter. It would appear that this is not the case. One other possibility for a print of the full film turned up as invalid. It would appear that Warner Brothers is the only one who has a pristine print of the original film.

Vanessa Redgrave as Sister Jeanne of the Angels swoons her way into a disturbing world of Christ Imagery erotic daydreaming…
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Despite pleas from The British Film Institute, The Great Britain Historical Society, The Ken Russell’s Estate, The BBC, The Criterion Collection and a power-laden Official Petition — Warner Brothers simply refuses to relinquish the film to anyone for any reason. It was viewed as a major victory for BFI when WB finally agreed to supply them with with limited licensing rights and a copy to “restore” and transfer limited to British Region Code DVD/Blu-Ray (no cinema screenings allowed) It didn’t matter. At last an organization would be able to properly restore and save the film. It was a bit of shock for the distinguished BFI to discover that Warner would not “loan” or “share” an actual print of the film. Instead BFI received a Digi-Beta tape of the American X Certificate version. The American “X-Rated” version was even more cut up than the UK version. This Digi-Beta tape greatly limited the ability to “restore” quality and it was not the original theatrical release of the movie.

Oliver Reed as Father Urbain Grandier. While presented as a man of faith and ethics, he is also a cruel and callous man who is more than happy to seduce the females of his flock. The line between good and evil is a thin one for this “progressive” priest.
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

BFI did their best. The quality is better than the briefly and highly censored VHS tape WB released in the mid 1980’s. Some scenes are fuzzy, some aren’t, some have audio issues that could only be minimally-addressed. Worst of all, the most crucial scenes of Russell’s work are still missing.

Welcome to 17th Century France. Plague is in full force as Catholic and French Histories take a dark turn.
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

South Korea also secured a limited licensing from WB, but this was also made from a similar Digi-Beta tape that was an “R-rated” cut of the film that had never been seen. This version actually doesn’t completely make sense so much has been cut. There is one bootleg copy floating around, but the quality is so bad it is almost impossible to watch — and very often is impossible to hear.

Vanessa Redgrave’s Sister Jeanne is both amused and disgusted when faced with a woman who actually seeks to devote her life to Christ. After eloquently dismissing her devotional intention to be a waste as this f Ursuline nunnery is a safe home for the deformed and unmanageable. When she discovers Father Granier has already seduced the would-be-devout-nun her jealousy and rage holds back no punches:
“Whore! Strumpet! Hypocrite! You tell me you have no vocation? Of course you have a vocation! Fornicator! Fornicator! Sacrilegious bitch! Seducer of priest, that’s your calling! Your place is in a brothel. You filthy whore! Get back to the gutter where you belong!”
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Warner Brothers has never actually officially addressed the reasoning behind their refusal to allow access to The Devils. Because they have stated that Ken Russell’s original cut of the film is within their possession and protection, many thought that the executives were holding off to “cash in” once the film’s notorious and infamous director had died. However, we lost Mr. Russell in late 2011 at the age of 84. Warner Brothers continues to refuse requests, petitions and any individual writer seeking information. The reasons for not letting the film out run deeper than any possible profit or historical cinema preservation merits.

It is particularly interesting in an age where any controversy is viewed “a selling factor” if it can make a buck. WB is a huge corporation. The bottomline and increasing profit is a main concern. So why keep The Devils hidden away? No one connected to the film’s controversy is left who would care.

“Satan is ever ready to seduce us with sensual delights.”
Vanessa Redgrave
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

The only living artist who could object would be Vanessa Redgrave. She, like many who worked for Ken Russell, remained a close friend until the end of his life. She has also expressed pride in having been a part of the film and considers it one of her best bits of work. Her role was originally intended for the equally esteemed Glenda Jackson. Jackson, also a life-long friend of Ken Russell and family, had discussed the fact that she turned down Redgrave’s infamous role because, at that time, she was tired of playing Russell’s sexually neurotic and hysterical muse. She made that statement both in truth and jest. Years later she would film her final role in Russell’s experimental and demented film Salome’s Last Dance. At the time Jackson noted that she had some regrets at having not played Sister Jeanne.

Acclaimed cinematographer, David Watkin, served as Cinematographer. He remained proud of this early film for offering him some freedom in establishing his own style while adhering to Russell’s vision. Prior to The Devils, Watkin was best known for having filmed 2 iconic movies:  The Knack… and How to Get It and The Beatles’ Help.

A perverse fantasy of a sick woman will soon help pave the way toward public execution.
Oliver Reed / Vanessa Regrave
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

His style was really already formed, but he felt the freedom Russell allowed offered him great benefit. He died in 2008.

Another interesting aspect of The Devils is that it features the early work of the iconic Derek Jarman. Jarman’s imprint on The Devils is unforgettable. Serving as the film’s production designer, The Devils features some truly amazing sets. Jarman would go on to be an important and experimental voice in Film and the art of Queer Film.

One of many post-modern sets created by then Production Designer, Derek Jarman.
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Jarman’s style was always unique, but it is clear that Russell’s aesthetic impacted his own vision.

Aside from the Film Theory aspect, The Devils is of note because it is a fictional account of something that is of historical note for both France and The Catholic Church. This is probably a page of history that both the country and The Vatican would rather forget. Interestingly, this might be the main reason WB is not letting the film go.

Aldous Huxley plunged deep within the history of what happened in 17th Century Loudun with the publication of his historical novel, Devils of Loudun. It was a controversial read then and it still is, but there is nothing in it than can be refuted. The few times Huxley actually is forced to put forward an explanation for things unexplained he offers several ideas to explain. And all are sound.

Let the “exorcisms” begin…
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Huxley crafted a historical narrative to address the controversial, mysterious and sordid historical fact that involved Cardinal Richelieu, a rebellious priest by the name of Father Urban Grandier, An Ursuline Convent of nuns and their Mother Superior, Sister Jeanne of the Angels. It is know that Father Grandier disagreed with both the King and The Catholic Church at the time. It seems fairly obvious that he seemed to disagree with idea of celibacy and was corrupt in that he engaged in sexual trysts with women of his flock. It is also of note that Father Grandier was reported to be handsome, charismatic and flirtatious. For unknown reasons, he declined Sister Jeanne’s request to act as “Spiritual Advisor” for for both she and her nuns. Cardinal Richelieu already viewed Father Grandier as a threat to the church and The Church’s desire to become closely aligned with The King. King Louis XIII, the infamous monarch of the House of Bourbon is a figure of legendary in and of himself. And both of these powerful men needed the other for a while due to political and power circumstances.

All the nuns are gathered to stand in giant burrial holes and “suggested” to convulse, blaspheme, carnally degrade themselves for the “good” of God. Or faces the same torture imposed upon their Superior Mother. They are all eager to follow The Cardinal, The King and The Exorcists’ guidance for transgressive behavior.
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

In what could be compared to the Salem Witch Trails only far more perverse and blasphemous in nature, Huxley put forward a number of reasons that France, The Catholic Church and the People of Loudun thought Father Grandier had made a pact with Satan that allowed the pristine Ursuline nuns to be fully possessed by demonic forces. It is of historical record to the level of debauchery that these “possessions” led the “blessed” nuns and their “heavenly” Mother Superior to act out public acts of sexually perverse behaviors including orgies and evil sexual blasphemy with religious symbols and Christ Icons.

The King and his Royal Court make an appearance to giggle at the atrocious perversion of The Catholic Church.
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Under both the blessing of the Cardinal and the approval of King Louis XIII, a series of public exorcisms were performed that involved more than just sprinkling of Holy Water. The nuns went further into “fits of hysteria” and their Mother Superior named Father Grandier as the evil responsible for their demonic actions. The public watched the acts of debauchery and exorcisms in what reads like some sick and twisted form of entertainment. The exorcisms went further into public acts of sexual torture. And then, it all stopped. The nuns and their Superior were free of their demons and redeemed  in the “Eyes of God.” 

A fellow priest begs Granier to confess and be spared. He refuses. The guilt-ridden priest seems to be praying more for himself than Granier.
Oliver Reed / Murray Melvin
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Grandier was questioned and tortured by the exorcist, the priests and their followers to extract a confession of having formed a pact with The Devil and conspiring to corrupt all of France and the Catholic Church. He never confessed or gave in to the torture. Ultimately, he was burned at the stake.

Granier refuses to give-in to the political ploy of The Cardinal’s Exorcist.
Oliver Reed / Michael Gothard
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkins

This, according to history, was the only way both The King and The Cardinal could be sure that Loudun were rid of the Satanic Grip. The public execution was treated as entertainment. Everyone in the town celebrated and the nuns were also granted approval to witness the horrid death.

Father Granier’s abandoned son is brought to watch his father’s execution.
Georgina Hale
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Huxley theorized a number of ideas. One of the most controversial being that most women who became nuns at this time had been deemed “unmanageable” and desperate for shelter. Though not completely clear, it would appear that The Mother Superior suffered some major physical birth defect. Her holiness was viewed to be a result of her plight. It is historically stated that Father Grandier enjoyed antagonizing Sister Jeanne of the Angels.

Huxley writes that the levels of sexual repressions, lack of serious faith, The Mother Superior’s disdain for the priest, the fact that many of the men in Loudun viewed Grandier as a trouble-maker with both The King and The Cardinal — and ultimately the political possibilities between a power-hungry Cardinal and a possible insane and perverse King led to one of the ugliest moments in French and Catholic history.

Huxley goes into great detail about the many realistic and human possibilities that factored into this incident. He leans toward the political, hypocracy and a shared temporary delirium or hysteria for the nuns. He also suggests that it many not have been so psychological. It might have boiled down to the nuns having to do as instructed by their Cardinal. Anyway one looks at it, it is not a pretty picture of religion or politics.

The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

Filmed at the very end of the 1960’s, the political and liberal Ken Russell saw this story and the play it had inspired to be an ideal topic to explore as metaphor. Russell’s The Devils is excessive in every way possible. While often beautifully staged and crafted — the film pulses with a hysterical pace. The acting is intentionally “theatrical” and most certainly presented to shock. The political ideologies spell forth throughout. Russell does not spare Oliver Reed’s Father Grandier as solidly ethical character. He is impossible to like, but it is equally impossible that this character deserves what he is given. Especially since he is given it for entirely the wrong reasons.

Vanessa Redgrave fares best in the film. In fact she is fantastic in the role. She is able to match the operatic pacing of the film with a carefully eccentric and darkly comical read on her character. It is an impossibly brilliant performance. Russell presents both she and her nuns as women who have “devoted” their lives to God because society has no other use for them. The only character who appears to actually feel a true calling to the devoted life of a nun is quickly dismissed by Redgrave’s Sister Jeanne of the Angels. She is too pretty to waster her time locked up in the convent. And what a convent it is. While Redgrave’s character runs a strict order, she simply turns the other way as her nuns grab at vague attempts as sexual gratification.

Sympathy for the Devil?
Oliver Reed
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

When the nuns become a pawn of The Church and The State, it is as if they’ve been not only granted “permission” to explore their repressed desires, the threat of torture looms if they don’t take those “desires” to blasphemous limits. This is the portion of the film that remains controversial almost 45 years later. The scenes are disgusting. They are not erotic. They are upsetting. What’s more — these scenes which have been labeled The Rape of Christ — can be found from time to time on YouTube. BFI has access to an inferior copy from whereabouts unknown. They were shown on British television documentary about the film in the late 80’s. Compared to much of what we see now on cable, they are really barely eligible for an R rating much less an X or NC-17.

Faith and Religion Distorted
For Ambition, Greed, Power and Control…
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

The scenes that are the most disturbing are in the R-rated cut. Sister Jeannes’ “exorcism” is actually rape and sexual torture. 40 some odd years later, these scenes are still hard to watch. Yet these scenes get an “R-Rating” when an “NC-17″ would be more appropriate. Another controversial segment which would probably secure a “PG-13″ rating today is actually one of the more blasphemous scenes in the movie. Sister Jeannes convulsive sexual fantasies of Father Granier as Christ are not graphic, but oddly disturbing. Filmed beautifully and erotically, Oliver Reed emerges as Christ descended from the Cruxifiction walking upon water to Sister Jeanne. As she kisses his bloodied feet and sweeps her hair over them. She begins to move up his body as if about to engage in felatio when the wind blows her vaguely nun-like wrapping off — her hump back is revealed and she screams in horror as everyone begins to mock and degrade her.

Georgina Hale
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

The Devils may not have been crafted with the precise and deftly serious style as The Exorcist, but Ken Russell’s film is concerned with far more serious cultural issues than Evil vs. Good. In The Devils, Ken Russell is presenting ideas that still seem to shake people to their core. It is a satirical political commentary that works incredibly well. Fever-pitched and unapologetic it is an essential film.

And when one stands back from both of these films, The Exorcist is actually the more perverse and controversial film. Welcome to the schisms of Film Theory, History, Politics and Religion.

The tragically deformed Mother Superior fosters an unhealthy desire of Christ as a source of eroticism. And her priest, Father Granier, has taken the place of Christ in her mind. Enter Erotic Surrealism…
Vanessa Redgrave
The Devils
Ken Russell, 1971
Cinematography | David Watkin

I have written about both Ken Russell, his work and this film in particular a number of times. I’ve also done some “covert investigation” in separating fact from fiction regarding Warner Brothers and possible prints of the original cut. If anyone is persistent, it a fan of film. There are a great number of Film Preservationists, Film Historians, devoted Ken Russell fans and Cinematic Curiosity Seekers who are still pushing to gain access to this film. Unless Warner Brothers is lying to us and they lost both of those prints, there is always a chance that Ken Russell’s The Devils might one day gets its moment in on the screen.

Matty Stanfield, 8.10.2015

Tastes being subjective, Film Theorist and Film Preservationists are and will always need to continually “re-assesing” the value and merit of the art form.

A good football coach can get away with murder. …And, if the coach is a closeted movie star he can get away with even more!
Pretty Maids All in a Row
Roger Vadim, 1971

Perhaps the most challenging sort of movie to asses are those cinematic oddities that simply refuse to go away. Cult Films are an essential part of the cultures that produced them. Some are worthy of their “cult” status and others require massive abuse of drugs to share in the “joy.”

However, just because something is “exploitive” or “tacky” does not immediately excuse if from being re-visted, restored and re-distributed. Very often it boils down to the fact that a movie is “exploitive” and “tacky” that ends up making it relevant. A movie might create a permanent stain on our cultural fabric. Sometimes it is better to cover the stain with a Ron Howard movie and hope no one ever notices it again. Other times we need to frame that “stain” and celebrate it.

I love all kinds of film. But I have a soft spot for misfits and movies so painfully “bad” they work themselves around to being “exceptionally fun” — such is the case of Berry Gordy’s horrifyingly funny 1975 cinematic error, Mahogany, in which poor Ms. Diana Ross must climb the depraved ladder of fashion to achieve superstar success.

Um, do you know where you’re going to?
Miss. Ross is
Mahogany
Berry Gordy, 1975

We cringe as she is forced into awkward situations with Anthony Hopkins. Playing a celebrated fashion photographer, Hopkins is once again cast as a psycho in  jeans so tight they actually might have been sewn onto him. Equally uncomfortable is the fact that Diana Ross saw this movie as chance to show off her personal “fashion design” brilliance.

“Give it to me, baby!”
Anthony Perkins / Diana Ross
Mahogany
Berry Gordy, 1975
Cinematography | David Watkin

Yes, she designs her own clothing. And it hurts. But Mahogany goes about everything just a bit too hard and too much to make it worthy of trying to save. It will always offer fun to some, but not enough to warrant a restoration. Don’t flame me if you disagree. I’m just stating an opinion.

Richard Elfman’s one directorial effort is insane, offensive, profane and an incredibly bad movie. Yet, The Forbidden Zone, is so strange and brimming over the top with creativity, ideas, talent and sheer force of will — It will never go away!

“Why does it feel so good to be sooooo bad?”
Susan Tyrrell & Hervé Villechaize
The Forbidden Zone
Richard Elfman, 1980
Cinematography | Gregory Sandor

And it shouldn’t. In addition, TFZ is a musical staring Hervé Villechaize, Susan Tyrrell and Danny Elfman! Danny is Richard’s little brother. The Forbidden Zone demanded a revisit! It was restored and re-distributed. It is just as bad as Mahogany, but what it offers is so unique, entertaining and odd that it’s horrible glory can’t be ignored or forgotten. In it’s own way, The Forbidden Zone is a brilliant off-kilter work of art.

I thought I’d briefly mention some movies that have recently been revisited/restored and a couple that I feel deserve to have a re-visit or reconsideration.

Warner Brothers often makes odd choices regarding what films within their massive achieve are deemed to be of value for restoration and redistribution. They continue to release Ken Russell’s controversial The Devils. They also refuse to allow Irvin Kershner’s Up The Sandbox to be properly re-stored and issued to HD/Blu-ray quality and format. Yet, they are more than eager to restore the Bette Davis & Robert Montgomery contractual obligation of 1948, June Bride. They have also allowed the forgettable Herbert Ross George Burns and Walter Matthau vehicle, The Sunshine Boys, to be restored.

Angie Dickinson as Miss Betty Smith, well versed in grammar, murder and free sexual guidance to her more advanced students.
Pretty Maids All in a Row
Roger Vadim, 1971
Cinematography | Charles Rosher Jr.

It took Warner Brothers decades to decide to offer a “clean-up” but not fully restored DVD/VOD of Roger Vadim’s infamous exploration film, Pretty Maids all in a Row. This nasty little 1971 movie features an unforgettable cast of actors — almost all of whom appear to be a little uncomfortable for the duration of the movie. The idea in 1970 was to allow Roger Vadim free-reign to create a satirical and perverse sex comedy to bring in the big bucks and to revitalize Rock Hudson and Angie Dickinsons’ respective careers.

Interestingly, it would go on to inspire a major network to create a classic iconic TV series for Telly Savalas called Kojack. Yes, kids. We have this amazingly twisted and so-bad-it’s-good Cult Film to blame (or thank) for the 1970’s Kojack. The film didn’t do much for anyone else. If anything it killed a few potential careers as casually as it kills cheerleaders. Joy Bangs, anyone? With a name and body like that she was expected to go far, but this would be one of her last bids of fame.

But rest easy, plans are lurking to fully restore and redistribute this cinematic oddity to HD/Blu-ray. But keep your fingers crossed just to be safe. But within the next 6 to 8 months!

Check out Todd Gaines review of this film on LetterBoxd. He sums this film up better than I ever could:

http://letterboxd.com/todd_gaines/film/pretty-maids-all-in-a-row/

Warner Brothers has also finally surrendered and agreed to “restore” Tony Scott’s infamous, iconic, controversial and much admired cult classic of Vampiric-Cool, The Hunger. Sadly, WB has taken it upon themselves to do this. The Blu-Ray will be released next Tuesday, 8.18.15! The transfer looks good and the sound is improved from the DVD release. It could have been better, but it is still worthy improvement.

Nothing loves forever. Especially Catherine Deneuve.
The Hunger
Tony Scott, 1983

Very loosely based on Whitley Strieber’s novel, Tony Scott was far more interested in style and the hopelessly cool cast he managed to assemble in this very entertaining Art-Horror Film. It often seems like we are seeing only the coolest of the early 1980’s NYC Art Scene hiding around the corners as Catherine Deneuve and David Bowie pursue their blood-lust. One of their first victims is Eternal Hipster, Ann Magnuson. Not to mention the fact that movie opens with Peter Murphy and the legendary British Goth Rock band, Bauhaus – crooning their seminal hit, “Bela Lugosi’s Dead.”

“undead. undead. undead”
Peter Murphy / Bauhaus
The Hunger
Tony Scott, 1983
Cinematography | Stephen Goldblatt

It is an artfully and darkly shot bit of early 1980’s stylistic chic. It is also one of the most erotic vampire films you will ever see. Man, woman, gay, straight, trans or any existence between — you’re bound to find Catherine Deneuve’s seduction and love-making to Susan Sarandon hot. …hot as well as kind of funny and still a bit surprising.

Lesbian Vampire Sex was never meant to be this hot!
Sarandon / Deneuve
The Hunger
Tony Scott, 1983
Cinematography | Stephen Goldblatt

Tony Scott loses his way with the story. As the film sleeks casually and oh-so-cool toward it’s end, you realize that it may not make any logical sense whereas in the novel the ending was truly disturbing and unforgettable. With this awesome movie, the ending is not so important as how neat it all looks! Seriously. This graphic film of obsession, lust, fear of aging and AIDS metaphor is amazing.

Uber-Cool Ann Magnuson is about to get more from David Bowie than she probably anticipated.
The Hunger
Tony Scott, 1983
Cinematography | Stephen Goldblatt

The Hunger even manages to be creepy. Oh, and be sure to play this film really loud. Crank that sound up! 

Sandy Dennis does her unique Sandy Denis-thing as Miss. Frances Austen in
That Cold Day in the Park
Robert Altman, 1969

We have Olive Films to thank for rescuing Robert Altman’s deeply odd / disturbing 1969 psycho-sexual thriller, That Cold Day in the Park, back from the land of the forgotten. While Olive Films restoration abilities are severely limited, they do a decent job. It is a far cry better than allowing this classic film from rotting somewhere at Paramount.

Initially, this Canadian movie was brought back to life by Bruce LaBruce’s 1991 super-lo-fi film, “No Skin Off My Ass.” LaBruce’s framed that entire film off a distorted VHS copy of Altman’s movie.  Altman’s 1969 film was dismissed and quickly faded into obscurity. Thanks to LaBruce’s underground film and Altman fans this film has returned from its imposed exile. It would take two decades but Olive Films brought the original film back to life!

Poor Miss. Frances Austen. She tries not to look, but she seems to live in a house of mirrors.
That Cold Day in the Park
Sandy Dennis / Michael Burns
Robert Altman, 1969
Cinematography | László Kovács

Sandy Dennis plays her character like only Sandy Dennis can. She is a wealthy but lonely virgin spinster. She lives a seemingly mundane life among older people. It is never clearly articulated, but thanks to Dennis’ performance we receive several clues that something is wrong with “Miss. Frances Austen.” Actually, we are almost certain something is very much wrong.

When she notices an apparently homeless, mute and handsome man sitting alone on a park bench in the park, Miss. Frances Austen breaks convention and insists the “helpless” boy come to her swank home to warm up and have some food. She sends her cook and butler away. Why does she even have a cook and a butler in such a small but nice condo? It is never clear.

Now, we’ll just play a little game.
Sandy Dennis / Michael Burns
That Cold Day in the Park
Robert Altman, 1969
Cinematography | László Kovács

This film was mis-judged by film critics at the time of its release. It is an appropriate bookend to Altman’s interest in the psycho-sexual thriller. A few laters, Altman would pursue this genre again in “Images” — a film which received more acclaim than I think it deserved. Here, in “TCDITP” Altman more precisely and effortlessly slips into a woman’s damaged psyche. Much of the credit is deserved to Sandy Dennis.  The film is short and fast-paced. Yet it is filled with fairly uncomfortable and realistic scenes between Dennis and Michael Burns as the handsome young man. As Miss. Frances Austen begins to open-up to the mute mostly nude young man who is unable to speak either with/to her — things start to take an oddly warped vibe. Clearly, Miss. Frances Austen (and her name bears repeating) is a virgin and dealing with a whole lot more than sexual repression.

“I’m not going to get under the covers or anything. I’ll just lay on top. I have to tell you something. If you feel that you want to make love to me, it’s all right. I want you to make love to me. Please.”
Sandy Dennis on the verge of something…
That Cold Day in the Park
Robert Altman, 1969
Cinematography | László Kovács

The “twist” does not come as a “surprise” or even a device in a very smart move by Robert Altman. We know what is coming. This handsome mute boy is “playing” Miss. Frances Austen. He is using her for his own twisted fun and grift. The actually unexpected “twist” comes shortly after the “expected” one. After this twist is delivered, the viewer is likely to chuckle and feel reasonably entertained by this strange little movie.  The thing is — Robert Altman and Sandy Dennis had just pulled-off a great cinematic trick:

The final turn of the movie isn’t going to leave your mind. What seems comical gradually takes on the sinister and disturbing.

Just because it says “Exit” doesn’t mean it is a way out.
Sandy Dennis
That Cold Day in the Park
Robert Atman, 1969
Cinematography | László Kovács

A long neglected bit of cinematic magic has been saved by Olive Films. Do not miss it. Unlike the above mentioned films, this one is truly outstanding. There are really no jokes, camp or “bad” moments. Altman’s That Cold Day in the Park is near perfect.

Like Olive Films, Shout Factory has also done an amazing job of saving, restoring and re-distributing forgotten cinematic history. Unlike Olive Films, Shout Factory has a been more of a budget and access to more fully restore film. While far from being able to achieve what The Criterion Collection can, Shout Factory does great work. Perhaps their most important gift to Film Restoration is it’s recent release of Werner Herzog: The Collection. The set features 15 of the brilliant director’s best work. Thus far, Shout Factory has released 3 of those individually.

Their collection continue to grow. Thus far the films that they have restored and distributed that meant the most to me have been Cat People, Audition and The Herzog Collection. That doesn’t mean I haven’t enjoyed other re-discoveries. Perhaps my most personal favorite film that Shout Factory rescued would be Lewis John Carlino’s much neglected and forgotten pretty mess of a movie, The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea.

Kris Kristofferson / Sarah Miles
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

Yukio Mishima’s exceptionally interesting, disturbing and thematic novel lost almost all of what makes it so brilliant when Lewis John Carlino adapted it for the screen in the mid-1970’s. It would be wrong to state that this film starring Sarah Miles and Kris Kristofferson is good. But it would be equally unfair to say that it holds no interest or merit. Carlino’s film is just strange enough to make it all interesting. Carlino’s interest in bringing Mishima’s book to the screen is limited to the perverse eroticism and sociopathic tendencies of the stepson. And, get ready. This is one of those “WTF” 1970’s Cinematic Moments.

Jonathan Kahn as the son and stepson to The Sailor has a few issues…
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

Filmed in a “Vasoline Gauzed Haze” a loney and sex-starved widow/mother sits in isolation. She is unaware that her seemingly sweet son has drilled a peephole into her bedroom so that he can watch her. The son watches her masturbate as well as cry. Now, one would assume that the son is “getting-off” on this. But that is not necessarily the case. It is never clear.

Anne’s son likes to watch.
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

When a tired and weary sailor meets “Mummy,” Sarah Miles falls immediately in love as does Kristofferson. At the time of the film’s release much to do was made over some infamous sex scenes between the two actors. Though, most of those scenes failed to make it into the movie, but went straight to Playboy Magazine for marketing.

The Sailor falls…
Kris Kristoffers getting very personal with Sarah Miles
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

But what a campaign it was! Interestingly, the eroticism remains running between Miles and Kristofferson, but their on-screen eroticism is not as bold as the following snaps from the movie that went to the cutting room floor to avoid an “X-Rating” — they served to promote the movie even today.

“Mummy’s” sweet son is troubled by the Sailor’s decision to abandon his life at sea to live with he and his mother. His level of cruelty as “the leader” of his band of fellow “enfant terrible” begins to even make his followers a bit nervous.

This is one poor little kitty who should make a run for it!
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

The Sailor catches the sun watching him make love to his wife and the boy’s mother. Well, things just take a very twisted turn after this.

Sarah Miles and Kris Kristofferson made the news with this infamous scene.
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

The movie is a cinematic error. It doesn’t work, but it doesn’t work so well that it offers a sort of interesting appeal that almost slips into “camp” but instead loops itself into a decidedly sick and twisted cult movie. The sad thing about this film is that Yukio Mishima’s novel would make for an amazing film if the filmmaker were talented enough to translate/adapt it for the screen. The book is so dark and the themes so complex, it is doubtful any will attempt it.

AVCO Embassy Pictures did a great deal of cutting to secure an already-pushed R-Rating
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

As silly as the movie is, be warned that the depictions of animal cruelty and sexuality are fairly realistic/graphic. The actors do a fairly decent job. For most of us, however, the movie will neither shock or disturb us as much as it causes pause.

How in the world did this movie ever get made?!?!?

Sarah Miles and Kris Kristofferson serve as specimens for voyeuristic interest and psychotic interests.
The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea
Lewis John Carlino, 1976
Cinematography | Douglas Slocombe

If we didn’t need further proof that 1970’s decade was truly odd era, Carlino’s adaptation of the acclaimed novel actually fit right into the cinematic syntax of it’s day.

I am currently working “covertly” and “off the grid” to help find another flawed but interestingly potent b-grade mishap from the World of Grind House Cinema.

I first saw this strange drive-in / grind house movie in 2005. I had been asked to view it as a potential for a film festival. I loved it, but for all the wrong reasons. The festival passed and last night I discovered that my “screening” DVD had died. Bummer. This movie is awesome and strange. The date of 1977 is incorrect. This film was actually shot in The Bay Area in the very early 70’s. It has been released under a number of times with different names. The original title was “The Seducers Deadly Game.” It found it’s way on double bills in NYC and LA between 1974 and 1975.

An odd venture into “Feminist” Fury is as flawed as it is interestingly brilliant.
Seymour Cassel, Sondre Locke and Colleen Camp
Death Game / The Seducers Deadly Game
Peter S. Traynor, 1977/1974
Cinematography | David Worth

Eventually thanks to Sondre Locke’s fame as Clint Eastwood’s leading lady, it was released again in 1977 as Death Game. This is the name that stuck and it’s 1977 release was wide at drive-in’s across the nation. There are also several versions floating around out there. One is an edited 91 minutes in length. The other is the one I owned which runs at about 105 minutes.

You realize that this might be a strange movie as it begins with a title card warning that everything shows is completely true. But then the screen fills with some children’s artwork of family that feels a little “off” from the get-go. And a purposely annoying little sing-a-along song accompanies the credits.

The film stars Seymour Cassel as a father/husband/business man who has the house for the long weekend. All to himself, he decides to have a bit of fun. He lets it to “post-hippie-love-children” sex vixens played by the infamous Sondre Locke and Colleen Camp. Rule #1: if it is 1971/1972 and two hippie chicks knock at your door after sunset, don’t let them in.

Sadly, nobody taught Mr. Cassell Rule #1 for the early 1970’s.

Sondra Locke, Colleen Camp and Seymour Cassel
Death Game
Peter S. Traynor, 1977
Cinematography | David Worth

“Sorry to bother you, really. But we’re lost!”

It is important to point out that this screen caps are deeply lacking in value because the current copies available all suck. Amazon sells one, but it is shorter in length and fairly poor quality.

They seduce poor Seymour Cassel in hazy 3-way and then the sick/twisted games begin. Turns out our hot hippie vixens have more in common with Charles Manson than Rod McKuen. They also each have a bone to pick with men. And for better or worse Seymour Cassel comes to represent “Daddy” to both of them. Though, clearly adult women both claim to be minors and that he has raped them.

They quickly began calling him “Daddy.” They are out for sex, blood and major home invasion wreckage. They also decide to put “Daddy” on trial for all the horrible things men have done to not only them, but for all of woman kind. Their mock trail is as comically bad as it is rather disturbing. And much like The Sailor, Seymour’s cat attracts some very unwanted attention from these two crazy sisters with a grudge.

This sick movie is just wrong, but infectious. If you’re like me you will be hooked to the screen until you come to the movie’s equally odd thud of an ending.

The Official 1977 Movie Poster
Sondra Locke, Colleen Camp and Seymour Cassel
Death Game
Peter S. Traynor, 1977
Cinematography | David Worth

This movie was shot in 13 days with very limited audio-recording capabilities. The entire film had to be re-dubbed. The great Jack Fisk served as set designer and his wife, Sissy Spacek, is said to have had a hand in the costuming. She apparently declined to be in the movie. Seymour Cassel hated making this movie so much that he refused to show up and dub his lines. His lines are actually spoken by a member of the crew. The dubbing impact is annoying at first but it starts to take on a sort of Surrealistic vibe as the movie progresses. It is sort of like being dropped into a total nightmare.

The thing about “Death Game” / “The Seducers” is that it is impossible not to watch. It just keeps “one-up’ing” itself scene after scene. The movie is completely insane. If you get the opportunity, see it. Be warned, as silly as it all is — this is not a movie for all tastes. Heaps of inappropriate nudity, cruelty and violence. But seriously, this movie is so bad it becomes brilliant! I’d put it one notch above Roger Vadim’s also odd but big-budget “Pretty Maids all in A Row.” ...this is a major compliment.

“We find you Guilty!”
Sondra Locke
Death Game
Peter S. Traynor, 1977
Cinematography | David Worth

I had the pleasure of asking Mr. Cassel if he would be willing to attend a screening and a have a “Q&A” with the midnight audience for a 2004 film festival. He was nice, but he quickly turned the offer down.

From my brief conversation with the great film actor, I gathered that Fisk/Spacek were involved in the production to raise some funds for a David Lynch project. Cassel could not remember, but I’ve always wondered if this was “Eraserhead‘ — much of which was actually shot in Fisk/Spaceks’ garage.

At any rate he also told me that he had been informed he would receive a script, but when he showed up the plan had been changed. The entire film was to be improvised by both Sondre Locke and Colleen Camp!  Improvising all of their lines under the guidance of the director, Mr. Cassel was to improvise toward their lead only. When it became clear that “sound” was not a logical expectation of this “off the grid” movie project, Mr. Cassel lost his patience. And who can blame him?

Clearly there was no love lost between this great actor and his two leading ladies and the film’s director. Mr. Cassel preferred to talk about Jack Fisk, Sissy Spacek and David Lynch. Though, he couldn’t remember if Lynch was ever present at the messy shot in which an entire home was essentially destroyed. However I did push him a bit.

He was genuinely shocked to discover that the screening was expected to sell out and that this little film has a following as well as having served as the subject of more than a few Doctoral Theses.

What more evil things can we do?
Sondra Locke
Death Game
Peter S. Traynor, 1977
Cinematography | David Worth

The last thing he said to me was, “I don’t know, Kid. Go figure. Shocks the shit out of me.”  And then he just laughed.

The truth is we never really know how a work of art — no matter it’s intention or motivation — will age.

But Film Art is far too important for us individually as well as a culturally.

We should never dismiss anything too quickly.

Like Mr. Cassel, it may shock us, but we never really know — for 20 years at least.

Catherine Deneuve is watching, hunting and smoking hot
The Hunger
Tony Scott, 1973
Cinematography | Stephen Goldblatt

Matty Stanfield, 8.13.2015

Recently I saw Belinda Sallin’s documentary, Dark Star: H.R. Giger’s World. An art gallery curator spoke regarding the therapeutic healing aspects of Giger’s work.  He commented that many artists deal with the darker aspects of human experience and survival by diving deep into the damage of human suffering to find the “voice” and “inspiration” for art but then re-emerge to take a break from all of the darkness. The curator then stated a fundamental in understanding the late H.R. Giger, H.R. Giger dove down deep and stayed there. Whatever childhood or personal traumas this man endured — he opted to find a way to be comfortable in the darkness and pain. This is one of the reasons his art speaks to so many people on such a profound level.

Art Therapy
Dark Star: H.R. Giger’s World
Belinda Sallin | 2014
Eric Stitzel | Cinematography

I saw this film out of curiosity of the way Sallin and her Cinematographer, Eric Stitzel, had reportedly approached the artist and his home. It was a rewarding cinematic experience. It also gave me pause to look at the often disturbing sexualized themes of Giger’s art.

Debbie Harry
KooKoo, 1981
Photograph | Brian Aris
Art/Design | H.R. Giger

What had often struck me as phantasmagorical exploration into BDSM / KINK erotica, was actually offering a great deal more to his ardent followers. H.R. Giger’s dark work served not only as his personal art therapy, but offered the same release to viewers. So much so that an entire subculture of artistic and marginalized people have taken these works to form detailed maps tattooed all over their bodies.

Art speaks to us. Sometimes it is there to only allow an escape. Other times it is a form of magical pleasure. This is especially true of Film Art and Music. The Sound of Music has held generations of people within its sway. The same is certainly even more true of Star Wars or the television series, Star Trek.

Just the sight of the iconic graphic logo sets millions of hearts and brains’ a-flutter.

As for music, a song can bring us back to the happiest moments of our lives and the saddest. There are more than a few generations of people who think of songs as Anthems. A sort of collective “call to arms” on the fields of sport or in pursuit of summer fun. This of course is the power of art. No matter how “lofty” or “petty” the concerns of the artists, the work that results impacts in various and powerful ways.

In 2009, I was diagnosed with D.I.D. (Dissociative Identity Disorder). The diagnosis was horrifying to me. It would take me about two and a half years before I could fully “own” this disorder.

“Scary monsters, super creeps. Keep me running, running scared…”
David Bowie
Scary Monsters and Super Creeps | 1980
Photography | Brian Duffy
Painting /Art Direction | Edward Bell

However, as shocking as this diagnosis was, it did make sense. I had been “losing time” for almost a year. I would be sitting some place and then find myself in another with no clue as to how or why.

Most scary was finding myself in places that I did not know. I did not yet have a smart phone to help me determine where I was. I was convinced I had a brain tumor.

After visits to numerous specialists to clear me of any physiological issues, it came down to psychologists and psychiatrists.

After 18 months and four psychiatric professionals who consulted with each other, it was determined that I was “lucky.” After several years of repeated and nightmarish childhood sexual assault, my mind had developed a way of surviving it.

Roger Daltrey
is “blind, deaf and dumb”
Tommy
Ken Russell | 1975
Cinematography | Dick Bush

The subconscious took over and created tiny spaces in which to place the seeming “unsurvivable” emotions and pain. As I entered adulthood these fragments within my brain remained somehow active.

What were once my mind’s coping strategies morphed into oddly functional capacities. One of the reasons I had so much trouble in accepting the diagnosis of D.I.D. was that I had no problem remembering what had happened to me. In fact, I remembered everything with almost detailed precision.

“Ain’t got no distractions
Can’t hear no buzzers and bells. Don’t see no lights a-flashin’ Plays by sense of smell. Always gets a replay, Never seen him fall..”
The Who and Elton John
Tommy
Ken Russell | 1975
Cinematography | Dick Bush

After intense therapy I began to realize that there were entire blocks of time over the course of my life from the age of 9 to 38 of which I had no memory.

Having been an exhaustive journaler from way back, I spent a couple of months sorting through them.

Pages had been ripped out or “detracted” by self-imposed scribbles to prevent me from reading what I had been up to.

Suddenly it all begin to make sense.

The Who
Tommy | 1969
Full Gate Sleeve
Art | Michael McInnerney

Aside from the fact that I had to quit and walk away from a highly successful professional life and face life in the “fun world of Disability” I had to come to understand the odd way in which my mind helped me to succeed where many would have failed.

The sad fact of D.I.D. is that sooner or later the coping strategies backfire. Instead of assisting the individual, they start to turn against the goals of the owner.

“Gather your wits and hold on fast, Your mind must learn to roam.
Just as the Gypsy Queen must do You’re gonna hit the road…”
Tina Turner as The Acid Queen
Tommy
Ken Russell | 1975
Cinematography | Dick Bush

For women this tends to happen sooner in life. For men, it appears the strange functioning powers hold off giving-out later in life. So it was as I entered my 40’s that I could no longer succeed in the line of work or any level of employment that required active thought and responsibility. This may change in the future, but for now I am told that I need to “re-adjust” my life goals. For now, I need to think about a life without a traditional career.

I could go on and on — and, in fact, I have written a great deal about this struggle. The point of this blog entry is to discuss how Film and Music Art have helped me all of my life.

Lost within his mind…
The Who
Tommy | 1969
Photography | Barrie Meller

Much like H.R. Giger and has fans, darkness in art is often a forgiving and cathartic place for me to seek refuge. Unlike Giger and many of his fans, it is not a place in which I can stay for too long. I have to “escape” all of it. But I cannot stay away for too long. There is a healing to be found in both the world of darker art and certain levels of escape art.

Pink Floyd
The Wall | 1979
Inside Full Gate Fold
Art Direction | Roger Waters
Art | Gerald Scarfe

As a child I was utterly consumed with fascination regarding the music and film world. Rather than attempt to “restate” myself regarding these Artists and their work I will simply mention them and include some images. You can draw your own conclusions. Maybe a few of you will even relate or connect to a different (I hope!) but similar way.

What’s Up Doc?
Barbra Streisand / Ryan O’Neal
Peter Bogdanovich | 1972

I was four years old when my parents decided to take me to see a “re-issue” of Bambi. The cinema was sold out. So they opted for us to see What’s Up Doc?

I was too young to find the movie funny or interesting. However, I recall something very vivid about the experience of seeing Peter Bogdanovich’s classic film: This different looking lady was laying on top of a grand piano. She started to sing, “You must remember this…”

Barbra Streisand
What’s Up Doc?
Photograph | Steve Schapiro, 1971

and my four year old ears and eyes were forever changed. Something in this lady’s voice grabbed hold of me and never let go.

After the movie I demanded to know who this lady was.

I believe it was my father who told me she was a singer.

I demanded that we cross the busy street to K-Mart so I could get the What’s Up Doc? record. There was no such thing. But I think my demand was puzzling enough for my parents to follow it. I selected my first record album based on the fact that the cover was of a child who seemed close to my own age.

Barbra Streisand
My Name Is Barbra | 1965

I would go on to play this album so much that I swear you could hold it up and see through the vinyl. I listened to Barbra Streisand constantly. Over the years her voice became my equal to chicken soup.

I was 8 when I discovered The Who and Ken Russell’s Tommy. Both the 1969 album and the 1975 movie.

Your senses will never be the same…
Tommy
Ken Russell | 1975
Cinematography | Dick Bush

The connection to this film and The Who album seem almost painfully obvious with hindsight. 

“You didn’t hear it. You didn’t see it. You won’t say nothing to no one. Never in your life. You never heard it, Oh, how absurd it all seems without any proof.”
Ann-Margret, Oliver Reed, Jack Nicholson
Tommy
Ken Russell | 1975
Cinematography | Dick Bush

It would not be long before I found a powerful level of escape from weed and downers. (Valium was my particular favorite) But music and most especially Film Art formed into a core of my being. While most of my friends were obsessed with Welcome Back Kotter and Happy Days, I was consumed with Ken Russell’s rock opera film and Streisand’s rock-pop remake.

A Star Is Born
Barbra Streisand / Kris Kristofferson
1976

As I am unable to legally work, I have found creative entry ways into helping re-discover work and artists that matter to me. Aside from filing my time, it has led to some unexpected connections and a sometimes exciting background “roles” in helping to get films restored and re-issued.

Sometimes my assistance leads to nowhere. Other times it helps.

I’m not an artist.

I’m not paid.

But my voice is now heard in surprising new ways.

Lisztomania
Ken Russell | 1975

D.I.D does not get in my way the way it used to. Right now the main challenges are defeating phobias and odd thought processing. 

And, no. My life is nothing near nor has it ever been remotely like the depictions of the disorder seen on television or movies. I don’t change clothes and personas.

Actually, it is so nuanced that few ever noticed.

“Let me take you to the movies…”
Led Zeppelin
Physical Graffiti | 1975
Art Direction / Design:
Peter Corriston, Mike Doud & Elliot Erwitt

There was a period of about 4 years where it would sometimes be clear to others that something wasn’t quite “right” but for the most part it has never been easily spotted.

And I’m very relieved to say that I have not “lost time” in over 3 years now.

The challenges now seem to creep up in phobias, self-doubt and often inabilities related to concentration. Sometimes letters re-arrange as I write or read.

That is when it is time to stop and just lose myself — in Art.

Shades of and introduction to Arthur Rimbaud & Rebellion
Patti Smith
Horses | 1975
Photograph | Robert Mapplethorpe

Art that seems to speak to struggles, fears, reality, surrealism and ideas 

“Well, it sure don’t look like Texas.”
3 Women
Robert Altman | 1977
Cinematography | Charles Rosher Jr.

that seem to have the ability into which I can escape. 

“Oh, you are sick!”
Eraserhead
David Lynch | 1977

…And, to heal the broken.

Matty Stanfield, 8.25.2015

break the idol…
Tommy
Ken Russell | 1975
Cinematography | Dick Bush

Queen of Earth
Elisabeth Moss / Katherine Waterston
Alex Ross Perry | 2015

Alex Ross Perry’s film is clearly inspired by several key films of Robert Altman, Roman Polanski and even Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

But make no mistake: This film is absolutely true and unique unto itself.

Katherine Waterston and Elisabeth Moss
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

Alex Ross Perry’s film is well articulated and masterfully done it never veers. It holds the audience from beginning to end.

It is as if the writer/director has created the perfect cinematic symphony with an orchestra full of exceptional players: Keegan DeWitt’s musical score, Sean Price Williams’ cinematography, Robert Greene / Peter Levins’ tight editing and three actors in key supporting roles (Kentucker Audley, Patrick Fugit, Kate Lyn Sheil and Keith Poulson)   — all pull together to form an ideal “stage” for the Perry’s two key leading ladies.

Katherine Waterston and Elisabeth Moss
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

Katherine Waterston’s portrayal is a mix of “ice” and “fire.” She moves about the film fully formed like twisted idea from a Modigliani painting merged with a 1970’s Holly Hobby Doll.

Katherine Waterston
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

But the heart, soul and ultimate power emanates from Elisabeth Moss. The camera seldom moves away from her and you don’t want it to — she is captivating and brilliant.

Elisabeth Moss
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

Alex Ross Perry has created a real bit of magic with “Queen of Earth.” Despite a low budget and an idea that seems ripe for parody — he has created a stunning film is as interesting as it is disturbing. Long after the film ends, the true horror of what has been played out takes on a deeper and more sinister element.

Elisabeth Moss
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

Absolutely brilliant.

Elisabeth Moss
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

Don’t miss it…

Katherine Waterston
Queen of Earth
Alex Ross Perry, 2015
Cinematography | Sean Price Williams

Matty Stanfield, 8.27.15