After all, the crowds LOVE him. You do see the crowds…right?
I have no idea what is going on in Trump’s head…but I have my suspicions. Heaven help us.
"what digby sez..."
Author: Dennis Hartley
“That’s the problem with drinking, I thought, as I poured myself a drink. If something bad happens you drink in an attempt to forget; if something good happens you drink in order to celebrate; and if nothing happens you drink to make something happen.”
— Charles Bukowski, from his novel Women
You have likely heard the cliché that the Eskimos have 50 words for “snow”? This is, of course, not 100% true. What we have here, is failure to communicate. What we do have here is a case of “polysynthesis” …which means that you have a base word (in this case, “snow”), which is then attached to many different suffixes which change the meaning. In this context, the Inuit and Aleut folks have hundreds of ways of describing snow (I know. This sounds like something the drunk at the end of the bar would say…just stay with me).
I would wager that anyone who has ever spent a few hours down at the local pub would concur with me that there are just as many different descriptive terms for drunks. Happy drunks, melancholy drunks, friendly drunks, hostile drunks, sentimental drunks, amorous drunks, philosophical drunks, crazy drunks…you get the picture. You get all of the above (and a large Irish coffee) in the extraordinary Sundance hit Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets.
Co-directed by brothers Turner and Bill Ross, the film vibes the “direct cinema” school popularized in the 60s and 70s by another pair of sibling filmmakers-the Maysles brothers. It centers on the staff and patrons of a Las Vegas dive bar on its final day of business. At least that is the premise I bought into hook, line, sinker, and latest issue of Angling Times. It was only after I saw it that I discovered this little tidbit via IndieWire:
Except that in reality, that bar is still open, it’s in New Orleans, and the patrons gathering for one last hurrah were cast by the filmmakers Turner and Bill Ross.
As Johnny Rotten once said, “Ever feel like you’ve been cheated?” Sheepishly, I read on:
The night before the film premiered to rave reviews at Sundance, the Ross Brothers sat down, at a bar over beers, for a 70-minute interview with to discuss how they made “Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets” and the inevitable questions they knew it would unleash. From the Ross Brothers’ perspective, this, their fifth feature film that has everyone at Sundance talking, is simply the natural evolution of their process as filmmakers.
“With our first film we cast a broad net, we spent 100 hours and a year of life with people until we realized you could fish, how you could wait for these moments, find these moments, and then as we got further and further along, how can you can feed a situation where you create a dynamic situation that might be conducive to what you are looking for,” said Turner. “And we’ve gotten further along into this fifth feature. Well actually can we create a dynamic scenario where we could provoke or create situations where we might elicit these authentic found moments we’re looking for.”
That their work has been embraced and supported by the part of the documentary community that sees nonfiction filmmakers more as artists using form than documentarians practicing journalism, has given the brothers a supportive community and place in the filmmaking world. The flip side is that it’s an association that puts them on one side of the increasingly useless binary of nonfiction vs. fiction that defines most film festivals, and that their latest film confounds.
I hadn’t felt this much like a dunce since the night I happened onto Zak Penn’s Incident at Loch Ness while channel-flipping and got sucked into what I assumed was an obscure Werner Herzog documentary about the Loch Ness monster that I had somehow missed. I had no idea it was a mockumentary until the credits. Hook, line, sinker, and fake Nessie.
My bruised ego aside, I rather enjoyed Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets (whatever the hell it “is”). Populated by characters straight out of a Charles Bukowski novel, the film works as a paean to the neighborhood tavern and a “day in the life” character study. It is also a microcosm of human behavior, infused with all the alcohol-induced bathos you’d expect.
“Bloody Nose, Empty Pockets” is now playing via SIFF’s Virtual Cinema platform.
Related reviews: Fat City, Tommaso, Catfish, 56 Up, Salesman
Here are 2 fun facts I learned watching Allison Ellwood’s rock doc The Go-Gos. I never realized they were the first all-female band who wrote their own songs and played their own instruments to have a #1 album (I suppose that says something about the music biz that it took until 1982 for that precedent to be set?). I had also assumed they are inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. They are not (WTF?) That shows how much I know.
The band has also been overdue for a feature-length career retrospective; Ellwood’s film offers an absorbing portrait of the groundbreaking quintet’s rise, fall and resurrection(s).
The film begins with their D.I.Y. roots in the burgeoning L.A. punk scene of the late 70s, and goes on to recount the shuffling of various personnel that eventually settled into the now-classic lineup of lead vocalist Belinda Carlisle, rhythm guitarist and vocalist Jane Weidlin (both original co-founders) guitarist-keyboardist and backing vocalist Charlotte Caffey, bassist Kathy Valentine, and drummer Gina Schock.
The doc does play like a glorified episode of “VH-1’s Behind the Music” at times, with the inevitable tales of bruised egos, backstage squabbles, drug addiction (and don’t forget rehab!)…but hey, that’s rock and roll. It’s nice to see the band recognized for their talent, influence and perseverance (hard to believe they have been around for 40 years). It’s also inspiring to see them together and producing new songs. They’ve still got the beat, baby!
“The Go-Gos” is now playing on Showtime cable and VOD.
Related reviews: The Runaways, The Decline of Western Civilization
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley
In my 2009 review of Ang Lee’s Taking Woodstock, I wrote:
“If you can remember anything about the sixties, you weren’t really there”. Don’t you hate it when some lazy-ass critic/wannabe sociopolitical commentator trots out that old chestnut to preface some pompous “think piece” about the Woodstock Generation?
God, I hate that.
But I think it was Paul Kantner of the Jefferson Airplane who once said: “If you remember anything about the sixties, you weren’t really there.” Or it could have been Robin Williams, or Timothy Leary. Of course, the irony is that whoever did say it originally, probably can’t really remember if they were in fact the person who said it first.
You see, memory is a funny thing. Let’s take the summer of 1969, for example. Here’s how Bryan Adams remembers it:
That summer seemed to last forever
And if I had the choice
Yeah, I’d always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life.Best days of his life. OK, cool. Of course, he wrote that song in 1984. He’d had a little time to sentimentalize events. Now, here’s how Iggy Stooge describes that magic time:
Well it’s 1969 okay.
We’ve got a war across the USA.
There’s nothing here for me and you.
We’re just sitting here with nothing to do.Iggy actually wrote and released that song in the year 1969. So which of these two gentlemen were really “there”, so to speak?
“Well Dennis,” you may be thinking (while glancing at your watch) “…that’s all fine and dandy, but doesn’t the title of this review indicate that the subject at hand is Ang Lee’s new film, Taking Woodstock? Shouldn’t you be quoting Joni Mitchell instead?”
Patience, Grasshopper. Here’s how Joni Mitchell “remembers” Woodstock:
By the time we got to Woodstock
We were half a million strong
And everywhere there was song and celebration.She wrote that in 1969. But here’s the rub: she wasn’t really there.
There was a point in there, somewhere. Somehow it made sense when I was peaking on the ‘shrooms about an hour ago. Oh, I’m supposed to be writing a movie review. Far out, man.
2020 has been quite a year; the kind of year that gets memorialized in song. Actually, with five months still to go (survive?), somebody already has memorialized 2020 in song:
New Year’s Eve, don’t it seem
Like decades ago?
Back in 2019
Back when life was slow
Now it’s June, we’re just halfway done
2020, hey are we having fun?
How many years will we try
To cram into one?
You thought we’d be living 1918 again
But we messed that up so bad
God had to toss 1930 in
As the sun rose on 1968 this morning
A tweet from the john
Please let’s not add the Civil War
How many years will we cram into one?
Oh boy
How much more will she take?
Boys, hope you enjoy
Your beautiful tax break
We’re not repeating history, just the parts that sucked
2020, what the actual fuck?
Pray we get through, but hey don’t hold your breath
‘Cause there’s plenty left to wreck
We got six months left
How many years
How many years will we try
How many years will we try
To cram into one?
— Ben Folds, “2020”
Do you see what he did there? Since we are still ensconced in “2020” (and all it implies) I think it’s safe to confirm Ben Folds is really there, in 2020-right along with the rest of us. And if I may add…I think Mr. Folds has written the best pop elegy for 2020 (in ¾ time!). Since first hearing it last Thursday on The Late Show, I must have watched this 25 times:
It got me thinking (which is always dangerous) about other songs I love with a year as the title…or in the title. So here are my top 10 picks, presented chronologically (how else?!).
“Hilly Fields (1892)” – I was hooked on this haunting, enigmatic song from the first time I heard it on a Bay area alt-rock station in 1982 (it was either KTIM-FM or KUSF-FM; I used to listen to both stations religiously when I lived in San Francisco in the early 80s). It sounded like the Beatles’ Revolver album, compressed into three and a half minutes. The artist was Nick Nicely, an English singer-songwriter who released this and one other song, then mysteriously vanished in the mists of time until reemerging with a full album in 2004 (which was basically a compilation of material he had accumulated over the previous 25 years). He’s since put out several albums of new material, which I have been happily snapping up.
“Paris 1919” – This lovely chamber-pop piece by Velvet Underground alum John Cale is from his eponymous 1973 album, which I think is his finest song cycle. Obviously I wasn’t alive in 1919, but when I close my eyes and listen, Cale’s evocative lyrics make me feel like I’m sitting in a sidewalk cafe somewhere in Europe between the wars:
The Continent’s just fallen in disgrace
William William William Rogers put it in its place
Blood and tears from old Japan
Caravans and lots of jam and maids of honor
Singing crying singing tediously
Efficiency efficiency they say
Get to know the date and tell the time of day
As the crowds begin complaining
How the Beaujolais is raining
Down on darkened meetings on Champs Elysee
“1921” – Got a feeling ’21 is gonna be a good year… Great track from the The Who’s classic 1969 double-LP rock opera Tommy, with nice vocals from Pete Townshend.
“1969” – From The Stooges’ debut album…
Last year I was 21
I didn’t have a lot of fun
And now I’m gonna be 22
I say oh my and a boo hoo
I get a sense that 1969 was not Iggy’s happiest year.
“1979” – The Smashing Pumpkins’ 1996 single was a sizeable hit for the band. It’s an autobiographical song written by front man Billy Corgan about coming of age in the ‘burbs (he was 12 in 1979). Sense memories of hanging with his buds; the restlessness of budding adolescence. I see it as an update of Gerry Goffin and Carole King’s “Pleasant Valley Sunday”.
Creature comfort goals, they only numb my soul
And make it hard for me to see
Ah, thoughts all seem to stray to places far away
I need a change of scenery
— from “Pleasant Valley Sunday”
That we don’t even care, as restless as we are
We feel the pull in the land of a thousand guilts
And poured cement, lamented and assured
To the lights and towns below
Faster than the speed of sound
Faster than we thought we’d go, beneath the sound of hope
— from “1979”
“1983 (A Merman I Should Turn to Be)” – I’d love to post the 1968 Electric Ladyland version by Jimi Hendrix, but it is not currently available on YouTube. However, this dynamic cover by The Allman Brothers (performed live in 2013) is the next best thing.
“1984” – Spirit’s ominous song, like its literary inspiration by George Orwell, never seems to lose its relevancy. In fact, in light of very recent events, you could easily rename it “2020”:
Those classic plastic coppers, they are your special friends
They see you every night
Well they call themselves protection but they know it’s no game
You’re never out of their sight
1984
Knockin’ on your door
Will you let it come?
Will you let it run?
“Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five” – It’s tough to pick a favorite from Wings’ finest album (it’s a strong set) but I’ve always had a soft spot for this one. I wouldn’t call it Sir Paul’s finest lyrical moment (I just can’t get enough of that sweet stuff my little lady gets behind) but McCartney has such a genius for melody and arrangement that I am prepared to forgive him.
“1999” – Mommy…why does everybody have a bomb? Good question; I yearn for the day it no longer needs to be asked. In the meantime, this Prince classic IS the bomb. I’ll never tire of it.
“In the Year 2525 (Exordium and Terminus)” – Look in the dictionary under “one-hit-wonder”, and you will see a picture of Zager & Evans. Love it or hate it, if man is still alive, if can woman can survive– I bet this song will still be playing somewhere in the year 9595. In case you’re wondering, Evans passed away in 2018, and Zager now builds custom guitars.
(One more thing) RIP Peter Green
I was dismayed to learn this morning about the passing of English musician Peter Green, one of my guitar heroes. Most obits are noting that he wrote “Black Magic Woman”…but that is just a minor part of his significance in the rock ‘n’ roll pantheon.
An expressive player and distinctive vocalist, the original Fleetwood Mac co-founder was also a master at creating memorable riffs:
While he could obviously rock out with the best of them, he also crafted music of incredible beauty and subtlety; perhaps none more so than the classic Mac instrumental, “Albatross” (which was acknowledged by the Beatles as inspiration for the Abbey Road track “Sun King”).
If pressed for a favorite Green track, I usually cite “Before the Beginning”, a heartrending slow blues number from Fleetwood Mac’s excellent 1969 album Then Play On:
Sadly, Green struggled with drug dependency and mental health issues for most of his life, but his influence and musical legacy is assured…as evidenced by tributes from his peers:
(from “Before the Beginning”)
But how many times
Must I be the fool
Before I can make it
Oh make it on home
I’ve got to find a place to sing my words
Is there nobody listening to my song?
Rest assured, Mr. Green…I will be listening always. RIP.
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley
“We won two world wars. Beautiful world wars. That were vicious and horrible. And we won them out of Fort Bragg, we won them out of all of these forts, and now they want to throw those names away.” — Trump, from a Fox interview with Chris Wallace this morning.
“What are we made of? Our fathers came across the prairies, fought Indians, fought drought, fought locusts, fought Dix… remember when Richard Dix came in here and tried to take over this town? Well, we didn’t give up then, and by gum, we’re not going to give up now!” — ‘Olson Johnson’ (as played by David Huddleston) from “Blazing Saddles”, interpreting Gabby Johnson’s “authentic frontier gibberish”.
Now who can argue with that?
Last week, I apprised you of some noteworthy Blu-ray reissues of 2020 (so far). As more studios have come to realize that there is a market of film buffs out there, in the dark hungering for spiffed-up releases of classics (I know…“OK, Boomer”) they are digging deeper into the vaults (as am I, into my wallet). So here are a few more worth a look!
Atlantic City (Paramount) – Burt Lancaster and Susan Sarandon deliver outstanding lead performances in this 1980 neo-noir/character study from Louis Malle. Lancaster plays a fading, low-level gangster eking out a living as a bookie. He is also the weary caretaker (and occasional lover) of his former boss’s ailing widow (Kate Reid), who lives in the apartment directly below (whenever she needs him, she comically yanks on an old-fashioned room-to-room bell…making him appear more like an indentured servant).
The biggest thrill in the aging hood’s life derives from an occasional peep at his sexy neighbor (Susan Sarandon), whose kitchen window directly faces his across the courtyard of their apartment building. She conducts a nightly cleaning ritual involving fresh lemons over her kitchen sink-topless (I love the soliloquy Lancaster delivers about “the lemons” after she asks him what he does when he watches her…it is a scene that in the hands of two lesser actors would play more lasciviously than so sweetly). Fate and circumstance tosses them together and puts them on the run from murderous gangsters looking to recover some stolen drugs.
John Guare’s screenplay is rich in characterization, bolstered by a marvelous cast (right down to the bit parts). Atlantic City itself becomes a key character, thanks to Richard Ciupka’s cinematography and Malle’s skillful direction. Malle chose an interesting time to film there; many old hotels and casinos were in the process of being demolished in order to make way for new construction, which adds to the overall elegiac tone.
Paramount’s Blu-ray does show a fair amount of grain and is obviously “not restored” (to which some visible debris and scratches attest), but the picture is still a vast improvement over the DVD. No extras, but I am happy to see this gem finally get a decent hi-def release (a previous Blu-ray by Gaumont, which I have not viewed, was reportedly less-than-stellar).
The Last Valley (Kino-Lorber) – Films set in Germany during The Thirty Years War are a niche genre…but as far as films set in Germany during the Thirty Years War go, one could do worse than this nearly forgotten but worthwhile drama from writer-director James Clavell.
The “outsider” is a recurring theme in Clavell’s work; and this tale is no exception. In this case the “outsider” is a two-headed beast in the form of an apolitical war refugee (Omar Sharif) and the ruthless Captain (Michael Caine) of a small contingent of mercenaries who both stumble upon a “hidden” valley whose residents have somehow managed to remain unscathed by the ravages of war and the Plague.
The Captain is ruthless (he would just as soon slit your throat as look at you) but also pragmatic; he decides against his initial impulse to kill Sharif, pillage the sleepy hamlet and move on after the quick thinking and silver-tongued Sharif convinces him it would be better all-around to spare the residents in exchange for putting his battle-weary soldiers up for the winter. The villagers, who seem malleable and complacent at first, come to reveal their own brand of pragmatism. A well-mounted period piece that also works as a timeless observation of human behavior in survival situations.
Kino-Lorber’s transfer of this 1971 film is excellent (although it does not look restored) and the audio quality is decent, which serves John Barry’s rousing score quite well. The only extra is a new commentary track, by a trio of film historians. It gets overly chatty at times with three people, but for the most part the observations are enlightening.
A Little Romance (Warner Archives) – This 1979 comedy-drama from George Roy Hill (with a screenplay adapted from a Patrick Cauvin novel by Allan Burns) is best described as a puppy-love Before Sunset. A 13-year-old movie-obsessed French boy with an above-average IQ (Thelonious Bernard) Meets Cute with a 13-year-old American girl with an above-average IQ (Diane Lane) on a movie set in Paris. They encounter a grandfatherly rapscallion (a hammy Laurence Olivier) who convinces them that the only way to affirm their budding love is to kiss under the Bridge of Sighs at sunset. The trio hit the road to Venice-with authorities in pursuit (alerted by the kids’ concerned parents).
This is a wonderful film; warm, funny, and endearing. Full of great little touches, like in the opening scene where Bernard is watching an American western dubbed in French. The film is Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. In a later scene, he and Lane happen into a theater showing The Sting (obvious in-jokes for movie buffs, as both of those films were directed by Hill!). Also, in the opening scene Bernard snatches the poster for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid on his way out and gets chased down the street by the theater manager…an homage to the opening scene in Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows.
Warner Archives’ Blu-ray is bare bones (only one extra feature, “Remembering Romance with Diane Lane” which I have not got around to watching yet) but the transfer looks to have been taken from the best elements available (if not actually “restored”). The audio is presented in the original 2.0 mono, but with DTS-DH Master Audio enhancement.
More reviews at Den of Cinema
— Dennis Hartley
Since we’re halfway through 2020 (already?) I thought I’d apprise you of some of the latest and most noteworthy Blu-ray reissues I’ve picked up so far this year. Any reviews based on Region “B” editions (which require a multi-region Blu-ray player) are noted as such; the good news is that multi-region players are now more affordable. I’ll have some more next week!
All Night Long (Kino-Lorber) – This quirky, underrated romantic comedy from Belgian director Jean-Claude Tramont has been a personal favorite of mine since I first stumbled across it on late-night TV back in the mid-80s (with a million commercials).
Reminiscent of Michael Winner’s 1967 social satire I’ll Never Forget What’s ‘is Name, the film opens with a disenchanted executive (Gene Hackman) telling his boss to shove it, which sets the tone for the mid-life crisis that ensues. Along the way, Hackman accepts a demotion offered by upper management in lieu of termination (night manager at one of the company’s drug stores), has an affair with his neighbor’s eccentric wife (an uncharacteristically low-key Barbra Streisand) who has been fooling around with his teenage son (Dennis Quaid), says yes to a divorce from his wife (Dianne Ladd) and decides to become an inventor (I told you it was quirky).
Marred slightly by some incongruous slapstick, but well-salvaged by W.D. Richter’s drolly amusing screenplay. Hackman is wonderful as always, and I think the scene where Streisand sings a song horrendously off-key (while accompanying herself on the organ) is the funniest thing she’s ever done in a film. Despite Hackman and Streisand’s star power, the movie was curiously ignored when it was initially released. Maybe this reissue will help it find new fans.
Even though the film does not necessarily appear to have been restored, the 1080p presentation is sharp, with decent color saturation. The sole extra is a new interview with screenwriter Richter, who (to my surprise) is cantankerous about how the film turned out!
Britannia Hospital – (Indicator Limited Edition; Region “B” locked) – This 1982 satire (a wild mashup of The Hospital, The Rocky Horror Picture Show and The Magic Christian) was the final third of iconoclastic UK writer-director Lindsay Anderson’s loosely-linked “Mick Travis” trilogy. Malcolm McDowell reprises his role as Travis, the protagonist of If…. (1968) and O Lucky Man! (1973).
Anderson’s satirical targets are less defined than in the previous two films, resulting in a broad take-down of everything from the U.K.’s National Health system to corporate culture, royalty, classism and ineffectual politicos. Still, it succeeds as a two-fingered salute to Thatcherism (considering the year it came out). Huge cast; many returning from the previous films. Weirdest casting: Mark Hamill!
Indicator’s Blu-ray is a limited edition (3,000 copies) and Region “B” locked (requires a region-free player). The high-definition remastering is pristine. I have not had a chance to plow through all the extras yet, but they are plentiful. There are newly produced interviews with several participants in the production, as well as a 117-minute 1991 interview with the late director (audio only) produced as part of The British History Project.
Criss-Cross (Eureka Masters of Cinema; Region “B” locked) – Film noir aficionados are sure to rejoice once they see this gorgeous 4K digital restoration of the 1949 classic from revered genre director Robert Siodmak (Phantom Lady, The Suspect, The Killers, The Cry of the City, et.al.).
Burt Lancaster stars as an underpaid and over-worked armored car driver who still has the hots for his troublesome ex-wife (Yvonne De Carlo). Chagrined over her new marriage to a local mobster (veteran noir heavy Dan Duryea), he makes an ill-advised decision to ingratiate himself back into her life, leading to his half-hearted involvement in an armored car heist as the “inside man”. Great script by Daniel Fuchs (adapted from Don Tracy’s novel; Steven Soderbergh adapted his 1995 thriller The Underneath from the same). Artful, highly atmospheric cinematography by Franz Planer.
The 1080p transfer of the 4K restoration is luminous; one of the best I have seen in a while for a classic period film noir. There are two audio commentary tracks; I have only listened to the one by film scholar Adrian Martin, who is quite enlightening. Among the extras: 31-page collector’s booklet and the Screen Director’s radio adaptation from 1949.
Mystery of the Wax Museum (Warner Archive Collection) – “Images of wax that throbbed with human passion!” Get your mind out of the gutter…I’m merely quoting the purple prose that graced the original posters for this 1933 horror thriller, directed by the eclectic Michael Curtiz (Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Casablanca, Mildred Pierce, King Creole, et.al.).
Beautiful (and busy) Fay Wray (who starred in King Kong the same year) captures the eye of a disturbed wax sculptor (a hammy Lionel Atwill) for reasons that are ah…more “professional” than personal. Wray is great eye candy, but it is her co-star Glenda Farrell who steals the show as a wisecracking reporter (are there any other kind of reporters in 30s films?). Farrell’s comedy chops add just the right amount of levity to this genuinely creepy tale. A classic.
The film was considered “lost” until a lone, worn out print was discovered around 1970. It was originally filmed in the long-defunct Two-Color Technicolor process, adding to the challenge of an accurate restoration. Thank the gods for the UCLA Film and Television Archive and the Film Foundation, who tackled the project with their usual aplomb (with a little sugar from the George Lucas Family Foundation). The result is a glorious print that will make buffs wax poetic (sorry). Extras include the documentary Remembering Fay Wray.
Salesman (Criterion Collection) – Anyone can aim a camera ,”capture” a moment, and move on…but there is an art to capturing the truth of that moment; not only knowing when to take the shot, but knowing precisely how long to hold it lest you begin to impose enough to undermine the objectivity. For my money, there are very few documentary filmmakers of the “direct cinema” school who approach the artistry of David Maysles, Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin. Collectively (if not collaboratively in every case) the trio’s resume includes Monterey Pop, Gimme Shelter, The Grey Gardens, When We Were Kings, and Thelonius Monk: Straight, No Chaser.
In their 1969 documentary Salesman, Zwerin and the brothers Maysles tag along with four door-to-door Bible salesmen as they slog their way up and down the eastern seaboard, from snowy Boston to sunny Florida. It is much more involving than you might surmise from a synopsis. One of the most trenchant, moving portraits of shattered dreams and quiet desperation ever put on film; a Willy Loman tale infused with real-life characters who bring more pathos to the screen than any actor could.
Criterion has done their usual bang-up job here, starting with a new restored 4K digital transfer. There is a commentary track by Albert Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin (from 2001). Extras include an archival 1968 TV interview with both Maysles brothers (sadly, all three directors are no longer with us). The inclusion of “Globesman”, a spot-on 2016 parody of Salesman from the “mockumentary” IFC series Documentary Now! was a nice surprise (there’s also a short appreciation of Salesman by Documentary Now! co-creator Bill Hader).
More Blu-ray and DVD reviews at Den of Cinema
— Dennis Hartley
I often use the same harmonies as pop music because the complexity of what I do is elsewhere.
— Ennio Morricone
Well, this is embarrassing. When I heard the news this morning that film composer Ennio Morricone had passed away, my initial thought was “Wait…isn’t he already gone?” I quickly came to my senses and realized I was conflating him with film director Sergio Leone, who passed away in 1989. That gaffe either demonstrates that a). I’m a tad slow on the uptake, or b). The names “Leone” and “Morricone” are forever enmeshed in the film buff zeitgeist.
Of course, if I’d really been paying attention I would have noticed that his score for Quentin Tarantino’s 2015 western The Hateful Eight was an original one; perhaps I could be allowed some leeway of willful ignorance, based on Tarantino’s history of “re-appropriating” some of Morricone’s music that was originally composed for Leone’s films back in the 60s and 70s.
While he was unarguably most recognized for collaborating with fellow countryman Leone on genre classics like A Fistful of Dollars, For a Few Dollars More, The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly, Once Upon a Time in the West, and A Fistful of Dynamite (aka Duck, You Sucker!) that is not to imply that spaghetti westerns were Morricone’s raison d’etre.
Indeed, he worked with a bevy of notable film directors, like Bernardo Bertolucci (1900, Luna), Roman Polanski (Frantic), Terrence Malick (Days of Heaven), Pedro Almodovar (Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!), Brian De Palma (The Untouchables, Casualties of War), Samuel Fuller (White Dog), even John Carpenter…a director known for also taking on the scoring duties for his films, didn’t pass up a chance to work with the maestro (The Thing).
Morricone’s music was burned into my neurons before I had even seen any of the films he scored. When I was a kid, my parents had one of those massive, wood-finished stereo consoles with built-in AM-FM tuner, turntable and speakers. One of my favorite albums in my parents’ collection was this one, by Hugo Montenegro and his Orchestra:
I remember strategically planting myself dead center (for that maximum “360 Stereo” effect). “Hut, two, three, fo! Hut, two, three, fo! Ah-ah-ah-ah-aaah, wah-wah-waaah…” I was riveted.
Something about Morricone’s music captured my imagination. I guess it was…cinematic.
That’s the beauty of Morricone’s art; you can appreciate it as a film buff, as a music fan-or both. That was evident from reactions on social media, like Yo-Yo Ma’s lovely tribute:
With an embarrassment of riches to pick from (60 years of score credits to his name), this may be a fool’s errand, but here are 10 of my favorite Morricone soundtrack compositions:
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley
Is it nearly July already?! For those of us who tend to obsess over the inexorable decline of Western civilization, it’s easy to lose track of the “little things” like, you know, the time-space continuum. Take a breather. Grab some beach time. Well, “figurative” beach time; somewhere safe. How about the backyard? Break out the chaise lounge, barbecue something, enjoy a cold drink(s). Don’t forget the tunes. Here are my picks for the 25 best summer songs. You’ve heard some a bazillion times; others, not so much. To be played at maximum volume! Alphabetically…
First Class – “Beach Baby” – UK studio band First Class was the brainchild of singer-songwriter Tony Burrows, who also sang lead on other one-hit wonders, including “Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes” (The Edison Lighthouse), “My Baby Loves Lovin’” (White Plains), and “United We Stand” (The Brotherhood of Man). This pop confection was a Top 10 song in the U.S. in 1974.
Don Henley– “The Boys of Summer” – Don Henley’s most durable post-Eagles hit also features his finest lyrics.
Jade Warrior– “Bride of Summer” – Here’s a summer tune you’ve never heard on the radio. This hard-to-categorize band has been around since the early 70s; progressive jazz-folk-rock-world beat is the best I can do. Sadly, original guitarist Tony Duhig passed away in 1990. His multi-tracked lead on this song is sublime.
Bananarama– “Cruel Summer” – A more melancholy take on the season from the Ronettes of New Wave. I seem to recall a rather heavy rotation of this video on MTV in the summer of ’84. The video is a great time capsule of 1980s NYC.
Pink Floyd– “Granchester Meadows” – This is from one of Pink Floyd’s more obscure albums, Ummagumma. Anyone who has ever sat under a shady tree on a summer’s day strumming a guitar will “get” this song, which is one of David Gilmour’s most beautiful compositions. I love how he incorporates nature sounds. Aaahh…
Joni Mitchell– “The Hissing of Summer Lawns” – The haunting title cut from Joni’s 1975 album, co-written by drummer John Guernin (who also plays Moog). The song also features Victor Feldman on keyboards and James Taylor on guitar.
Sly & the Family Stone– “Hot Fun in the Summertime” – A quintessential summer song and an oldies radio staple. And don’t forget…I “cloud nine” when I want to.
Walter Egan– “Hot Summer Nights” – A memorable cut from Egan’s 1977 album Fundamental Roll, which was produced by Lindsay Buckingham. Buckingham contributes the tasty guitar licks (and backing vocals, along with Stevie Nicks).
Ray Charles– “In the Heat of the Night” – This sultry, swampy main title theme for the eponymous 1967 Best Picture winner (composed by Quincy Jones, with lyrics by Marlilyn and Alan Bergman) is a perfect marriage of music and film.
Mungo Jerry– “In the Summertime” – It wouldn’t have worked so well without the jug.
The Dream Academy– “Indian Summer” – If there are five stages of summer, here’s acceptance: When August and September just become memories of songs/to be put away with the summer clothes/and packed up in the attic for another year.
Chris Rea– “Looking for the Summer” – This ever-haunting song somehow encapsulates the Summer of COVID.
Marshall Crenshaw– “Starless Summer Sky” – In a just world, this power pop genius would have ruled the airwaves. Here’s one example.
The Isley Brothers– “Summer Breeze” – Yes, I know Seals & Crofts did the original version, but the Isleys always had a knack for making covers their own. Ernie’s solo is magnificent.
The James Gang– “Summer Breezes” – Not to be confused with the previous tune, this is an original song written by the late, great Tommy Bolin, who replaced Joe Walsh in 1973. Catchy, melodic rock with great slide work by Bolin.
The Lovin’ Spoonful– “Summer in the City” – All around, people lookin’ half-dead/walkin’ on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head. Written by John Sebastian, Mark Sebastian and Steve Boone, this 1966 hit is a clever portmanteau of music, lyrics and effects that quite literally sounds like…summer in the city.
The Webb Brothers– “Summer People” – Christaan, Justin, and James Webb started out with a pretty good pedigree-they’re the sons of songwriter extraordinaire Jimmy Webb. This catchy, Who-ish number is taken from their 2000 album, Marooned.
Chad & Jeremy– “A Summer Song” – The biggest hit for this British pop duo (it made the Top 10 in 1964). I always thought it had a Simon & Garfunkel vibe.
XTC– “Summer’s Cauldron/Grass” – A mini-suite of sorts, all about summer romance, lazy days, and the uh, things we did on grass. Produced by Todd Rundgren.
Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong– “Summertime” – This classic George Gershwin song (from his 1935 opera Porgy and Bess) has been covered by many artists (allegedly 25,000 versions), but I feel that Lady Ella and Louis Armstrong’s duet version is definitive.
Blue Cheer– “Summertime Blues” – Eddie Cochran wrote and performed it originally, and the Who did a great cover on Live at Leeds, but for sheer attitude, I’ve got to go with this proto-punk (some have argued, proto-metal) classic from 1968.
The Kinks– “Sunny Afternoon” – This poor guy. Taxman’s taken all his dough, girlfriend’s run off with his car…but he’s not going to let that ruin his summer: Now I’m sittin here/ sippin’ at my ice-cooled beer/ lazin’ on a sunny afternoon…
The Drifters– “Under the Boardwalk” – Kenny Young and Arthur Resnick wrote this iconic 1964 Top 10 hit, and Johnny Moore sings the lead tenor vocal. The group has a very strained and byzantine history (over 60 members since 1953), but its legacy is assured by the likes of this tune, “On Broadway”, “Save the Last Dance for Me”, “This Magic Moment”, “Dance With Me”, “Up on the Roof”, and many others.
Central Line– “Walking into Sunshine” – This jazz-funk outfit hailed from the UK and produced three albums from 1978-1984. This 1981 tune was a U.S. club hit.
The Beach Boys– “The Warmth of the Sun” – This song (featuring one of Brian Wilson’s most gorgeous melodies), appeared on the 1964 album Shut Down Vol 2. Atypically introspective and melancholy for this era of the band, it had an unusual origin story. Wilson and Mike Love allegedly began work on the tune in the wee hours of the morning JFK was assassinated; news of the event changed the tenor of the lyrics, as well as having an effect on the emotion driving the vocal performance.
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley
The artist is the medium between his fantasies and the rest of the world.
— Federico Fellini
There are few tougher sells to moviegoers than a film that simmers in the navel-gazing angst of a creatively blocked filmmaker. Yet it has become a venerable sub-genre you can trace at least as far back as Preston Sturges’ 1941 satire Sullivan’s Travels. Joel McCrea plays a director of populist comedies who yearns to make a “meaningful” film. Racked with guilt about the comfortable bubble that his Hollywood success has afforded him and determined to learn firsthand how the other half lives, he hits the road masquerading as a penniless railroad tramp. His crash-course in “social realism” becomes more than he bargained for. What did he expect? I mean, talk about “bitching in Paradise”…am I right?
As I noted in my 2013 review of Paolo Sorrentino’s La grande bellezza (aka The Great Beauty), a drama regarding an acclaimed novelist who is weathering an existential crisis:
Sorrentino’s film left me ambivalent. Interestingly, it was very similar to the way I felt in the wake of Eat Pray Love. In my review of that film, I relayed my inability to empathize with what I referred to as the “Pottery Barn angst” on display. It’s that plaintive wail of the 1%: “I’ve got it all, and I’ve done it all and seen it all, but something’s missing…oh, the humanity!” It’s not that I don’t understand our protagonist’s belated pursuit of truth and beauty; it’s just that Sorrentino fails to make me care enough to make me want to tag long on this noble quest for 2 hours, 22 minutes.
While The Great Beauty is not about a film maker, it is nonetheless a direct descendant of Federico Fellini’s 8½. Fellini’s 1963 drama about a creatively blocked director stewing over his next project offered a groundbreaking take on the “blocked artist” trope. With a non-linear narrative and flights of fantasy, it injected the “metaphysical” into the “meta”.
It was outrageously over-the-top and completely self-indulgent (especially for 1963), but Fellini’s film managed to strike a chord with audiences and critics. That is not an easy trick to pull off. In a 2000 retrospective on the film, Roger Ebert offered this explanation:
Fellini is a magician who discusses, reveals, explains and deconstructs his tricks, while still fooling us with them. He claims he doesn’t know what he wants or how to achieve it, and the film proves he knows exactly, and rejoices in his knowledge.
It also was (and remains) a hugely influential work. Films like Paul Mazursky’s Alex in Wonderland (1970), Francois Truffaut’s Day for Night (1973), and Woody Allen’s Stardust Memories (1980) are a few of the more notable works with strong echoes of 8½.
Writer-director Abel Ferrara’s Tommaso [now playing nationally in virtual cinemas via Kino Marquee] is the latest descendant of 8½; although it offers a less fanciful and decidedly more fulminating portrait of a creative artist in crisis. The film’s star (and frequent Ferrara collaborator) Willem Dafoe is certainly no stranger to inhabiting deeply troubled characters; and his “Tommaso” is (to say the least) a troubled, troubled man.
Tommaso is a 60-something American ex-pat film maker who lives in Rome with his 29 year-old Italian wife Nikki (Cristina Chiriac) and 3 year-old daughter Dee Dee (Anna Ferrara). At first glance, Tommaso leads an idyllic life; he has ingratiated himself by taking Italian lessons from a private tutor and appears to be a fixture in his neighborhood, cheerfully going about his daily errands with the unhurried countenance of a native local.
However, as we are given more time to observe Tommaso’s home life, there is increasing evidence of trouble in Paradise. Aside from the classic schisms that tend to occur in May-December relationships, Tommaso and Nikki obviously struggle with some cultural differences. Tommaso is also on edge because he is working on a storyboard for his next film (with elements that recall The Revenant) but can’t decide what he wants it to “say”.
The angst really kicks in when Tommaso attends an AA meeting. And then another, and another. While these scenes (i.e. monologues) are somewhat static and are potential deal-breakers for some viewers, they are key in communicating Tommaso’s inner turmoil.
Of course, the question becomes…do you care? Is this all just more of that “Pottery Barn angst” that I mentioned earlier? Dude…you have a beautiful young wife and an adorable little girl, you’re slumming in Rome, you’re an artist who makes his own schedule…and all you do is whinge and moan about how your life sucks, meow-meow woof-woof. Oh, please!
On the other hand, keep in mind this is an Abel Ferrara film. Historically, Ferrara does not churn out “light” fare. If you have seen China Girl, Ms .45, Bad Lieutenant, King of New York, The Addiction, The Funeral, 4:44 Last Day on Earth, et.al.-you know he is a visceral and uncompromising filmmaker. What I’m suggesting is, don’t give up on this too early; stay with it, give it some time to stew (I confess- it took me two viewings to “get there”).
The main impetus for sticking with the film (which ultimately shares more commonalities with Bernardo Bertolucci’s Last Tango in Paris and Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life than with 8½) is to savor Dafoe’s carefully constructed performance. Handed the right material, he can be a force of nature; and here, Ferrara hands Dafoe precisely the right material.
Previous posts with related themes:
Top 10 movies about the movies
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley
Hey you know something people
I’m not black
But there’s a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I’m not white
— Frank Zappa, “Trouble Every Day”
It has been an interesting week here in Mayberry (the one with the Space Needle).
As the Seattle Police Department works to broker a deal with protesters occupying an autonomous zone in the heart of Capitol Hill, a Seattle City Council member said the area known as “CHAZ” should remain in community control permanently.
The Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone, known as “CHAZ,” has been in community control since Tuesday when Seattle Police Chief Carmen Best decreased the officers’ presence in the East Precinct to allow for peaceful protests.
Seattle Councilwoman Kshama Sawant called the “CHAZ” movement a major victory. She said the area should be turned over permanently into community control, instead of back in the hands of the Seattle Police Department.
Sawant said she plans to create legislation to turn the East Precinct into a community center for restorative justice. The councilwoman wants to discuss the legislation with people involved in CHAZ, black community organizations, restorative justice, faith, anti-racist, renter organizations, land trusts, groups, labor unions that have a proven record of fighting racism.
Most of my heroes don’t appear on no stamps
Sample a look back you look and find
Nothing but rednecks for four hundred years if you check
Don’t worry be happy
Was a number one jam
Damn if I say it you can slap me right here
(Get it) let’s get this party started right
Right on, c’mon
What we got to say (yeah)
Power to the people no delay
Make everybody see
In order to fight the powers that be
— Public Enemy, “Fight the Power”
Yes, I live in a blue city chock full of Marxists and dirty Hippies. Few cities are “bluer” than Seattle. We have have a weed shop on every corner. We have public statues of Jimi Hendrix and V.I. Lenin. We have a progressive, openly gay female mayor. We have a female African American police chief. We have a high-profile female city council member who is a Socialist Alternative. As Merlin once foretold-a dream for some…a nightmare for others:
Oh, dear. Let’s take a peek at the terrorist-fueled burning and pillaging that has been raging in Seattle’s Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone for the past week (sensitive viewers be warned):
The humanity. Not quite as harrowing as a Burning Man festival…but in the ballpark.
My insufferable facetiousness aside, there is in fact a “revolution” happening in Seattle right now; and on streets all over America. “Revolution” doesn’t always equate “burning and pillaging”. Granted, some of that did occur when the protests started two weeks ago.
There’s something happening here
What it is ain’t exactly clear
There’s a man with a gun over there
Telling me I got to beware
I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound
Everybody look what’s going down
— The Buffalo Springfield, “For What It’s Worth”
But there is something happening here; something percolating worldwide that goes deeper than that initial visceral expression of outrage over the injustice of George Floyd’s senseless death; it feels like change may be in the offing. It will still take some…nudging. And I fear some feathers may get ruffled.
It isn’t nice to block the doorway,
It isn’t nice to go to jail,
There are nicer ways to do it
But the nice ways always fail.
— Malvina Reynolds, “It Isn’t Nice”
So it is in that spirit that I say come gather ’round, people-wherever you roam, and give a listen to my mixtape of 15 protest songs…some old, some newer, but all as timely as ever.
Alphabetically…
Green Day – “American Idiot”
The Temptations – “Ball of Confusion”
Public Enemy – “Fight the Power”
The Buffalo Springfield – “For What It’s Worth”
The Wailers – “Get Up, Stand Up”
The Specials – “Ghost Town”
Malvina Reynolds – “It Isn’t Nice”
Stevie Wonder – “Living For the City”
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – “Ohio”
The Beatles – “Revolution”
Gil Scott-Heron – “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”
Bob Dylan – “The Times They Are A-Changin’”
Frank Zappa & the Mothers of Invention – “Trouble Every Day”
Marvin Gaye – “What’s Goin’ On”
The Clash – “(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais“
Previous posts with related themes:
Blood at the root: an MLK Day Mixtape
More reviews at Den of Cinema
—Dennis Hartley