This is from a screening a few weeks ago of Cassavetes’ Minnie and Moskowitz at Film Streams, with Seymour Cassel in person for a post-show Q & A. Seymour was as charming as ever and told many great stories about his experiences making films and being great friends with John and talked a bit about his work with Wes Anderson. I had never seen the film before, and it was great to see it on the big screen.

Seymour as Moskowitz is vivacious, unpredictable and a thrill to watch (and he sports some pretty sweet sideburns and mustache – see below). The film also solidified that Gena Rowlands is indeed one of my all-time favorite actresses.

I always seem to leave Cassavetes films inspired and itching to make a film, and those for me are the best movie-watching experiences. I enjoy a lot of films, but there aren’t too many that come along that really give me that feeling that I really want to and almost have to make a movie.

Performance exceeded my expectations. It was extremely bizarre, provocative, and thoroughly entertaining. Mick Jagger and Anita Pallenberg were their magnetic selves. The hedonistic den that they inhabited in the film seemed a mirror image to the description Marianne Faithfull gives in her autobiography of Anita and Brian Jones’ flat. A place for their crowd to drop in and a place where Anita and Brian passed their time engaging in black magic, drug use, dress-up, physical abuse, sex, music, and hanging out with friends (this was before Anita was with Keith Richards). These activities are featured prominently in the film as well. It’s unbelievable to me that the film was released by Warner Brothers. The studio tried their best to bury it, but it found a way out somehow (two years later than it was supposed to be released and after an attempt at burning the negative).

Here’s a really good quote (featured on the Film Streams notes) from co-director Donald Cammell:

“One of the reasons I think Warners hated the film so much is because it forces an audience to consider the construction of their own fragmented selves, the various aspects of sexuality, which is something people never question. Nick [Roeg, co-director] loves to tell the story of one Warner executive who observed, ‘Even the bath water is dirty in this,’ referring to the menage a trois in Turner’s bath. Nick could only say, ‘Well the water looks that way because they just took a bath!”

My sisters and I managed to keep a fairly straight face through all the absurdity, non-sequiturs, and random cut-up style (at times making it seem that the film was edited by a blind person), until a young girl appeared with a turban and mustache in silk pajamas serving tea to the bohemians and speaking in a munchkin voice. At that point we lost it. I can’t remember the last time that I’ve been struck with uncontrollable laughter (I think it’s only happened about 5 times total in my life), but this was a bad case of it. It took so much self-control to contain it. I forced myself to disengage, I looked around me, I tried to get angry, I put a sweatshirt over my face, I took a drink of water. I was literally shaking and sweating trying to contain my laughter and not totally disrupt the whole theater.

This self-control was tested each time the child (or possible midget?) appeared onscreen. The second time she showed up, Erin exploded with laughter (the kind that you can tell the person attempted to muffle unsuccessfully) and we were gone again. Miraculously, I was able to keep things under control for the next scene and a half she appeared, until she blurted “I’m sick of beans” in her old man/baby/nasal drawl as she angrily through a can of beans in the trash. That flipped the switch again. Luckily that was her last line. If her screen time totaled any more than about 6 minutes, we would have been kicked out of the theater.

Last Friday I had a Film Streams double feature day: The Battle of Algiers (1966) and Reprise (2008). It is really crazy and eerie how relevant The Battle of Algiers is with regards to our current state of affairs in Iraq and the Middle East. Different place, same exact story. Too bad governments don’t seem to learn much from history (or art for that matter). The Defense Department actually screened the film in the Pentagon in 2004. That’s one discussion I would’ve loved to have sit in on.

Apparently the flyer promoting the screening read:

“How to win a battle against terrorism and lose the war of ideas. Children shoot soldiers at point-blank range. Women plant bombs in cafes. Soon the entire Arab population builds to a mad fervor. Sound familiar? The French have a plan. It succeeds tactically, but fails strategically. To understand why, come to a rare showing of this film.”

It’s a visceral and haunting film that still has great relevance today, and it achieves a rare level of feeling very real (hence the disclaimer before the film stating that no newsreel or documentary footage was used in the film).

Reprise is a Norwegian film made by a young director and former skateboarding champion, Joachim Trier. I really, really liked the movie. It is about a lot of things: art, ambition, confusion, friendship, the transition into adulthood (and avoiding that transition), love, sanity, self-invention, the public vs. private self, the fine lines between inspiration/genius and madness, identity, popular culture (and its intersection with identity – how books, movies, and music can help shape and define your identity or how you both judge and relate to others), time, aging (and fear of it, and conversely, youthfulness), commitment (and fear of it), selfishness and selflessness, and other issues that humans have been dealing with for a long time. It’s also a simple but engaging story about a group of friends at a particular time in their life.

The two main characters were subtle and engaging and played off each other really well, which was important since their friendship is the crux of the film. The movie is stylish and inventive, but I felt that its form didn’t get in the way of the story or emotion. There were times where I became pretty aware of the style, but it never crossed that line of feeling pretentious (though it was close at times), cheesy or that it was trying to hard. Basically, it’s a really interesting film that I would highly recommend seeing if you have the chance.

I’m heading back down to Film Streams tonight with my sisters to see Performance. I’ve wanted to see this film for awhile, so I’m really excited to be seeing it projected in a theatre.

Jamie, Erin, Kyle, Cody, Melissa, Brandon, and I went to see Jules and Jim (Truffaut, 1962) at Film Streams yesterday. Our group alone doubled the attendance.

Much is to be said about the film’s innovative camera work, fresh and revolutionary for its time. I love the brief freeze frames they use a handful of times – especially when Catherine is revealing the way she looks now and before. The sequence on the bridge (see above) is still exciting and breathtaking even after a few times of seeing it referenced.

However, what is most striking is the complexity of the triangular relationship at the core of the film. Friendships and romantic entanglements are shown with all of the messiness, depth, confusion, manipulation, sincerity and love that often characterize them. Every character shows strength and vulnerability at some point in the film, and throughout you get glimpses of the layers beneath each character’s exterior. The scenes between the three of them (four including the child, Sabine) crackle with both warmth and more intensely, tension. Within this threesome, the characters vacillate between their public and private selves, often slipping back into a skin that they thought they had shed.

Here’s an article from the NY Times on Film Streams.

I’m currently volunteering there, working on the education aspect of the theatre/non-profit. They’re hosting midday and after school screenings for High School students, with a discussion aimed towards analyzing/discussing the film in a critical manner afterwards. I think it’s a great program and idea, and I’m thrilled to be involved.

4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days is currently playing there. I plan to see it tomorrow. I’ve heard a lot of great things about it, so I’m really excited for it.

Quick run-down on weekend cultural activities:

Dan McCarthy, Spring Gun and Thunder Power!!! at Slowdown was awesome. The sound is really great in there and as a result, the bands all sounded great, especially TP (photo below). Kacynna’s voice was amazing on those crisp speakers.

Saw Billy the Kid at Film Streams and really liked it, also enjoyed the Q & A afterwards. I felt nostalgic for 466 nights and Q & As and felt like I should’ve been sitting on the floor in the front taking photos. That would’ve been weird though. I decided that I would make a list of all the guests we had so that I could remember them in my old age or tell my grandkids. I always plan to do this with concerts too (for the same reasons). I will add both of these lists to my non-New Years resolution list. But yeah, the movie was a funny, interesting, moving portrait of this kid, Billy. It’s surprising that the director, Jennifer Venditti, was able to establish trust and a sense of rapport with him in only 5 days (she went back and shot 3 more days. If you don’t feel like doing the math, that’s 8 shooting days)…although after watching the film and getting a better sense of Billy, it’s not all that surprising – though it is a testament to her personality as well. I have a lot more I could say about this film (and maybe will), but for now (since this is a quick recap and it’s 2:14 am) I will just say: go see it if you can.

It is also the kind of movie that makes me really want to go out and make a film. It had a very DIY aesthetic and was shot with basically just two people as the crew on the Panasonic DVX camera and has a verité style. I wish the camera had been more steady, but in the end it didn’t matter because Billy as a character and the subject matter as a whole was so strong. It really is an example of story, character and heart triumphing over any matter of production value or gloss.

Recently got back from seeing Baby Walrus at The Waiting Room. It seemed like a shorter set than usual, but it was still fun and they sounded great. I really like the record, but it’s even better live. I still have What Plastic Box in my head. Here’s the end of it live:

I would like to go to The Waiting Room tomorrow night to see Orenda Fink, Jake Bellows, Joe Knapp, Stefanie Drootin, Dan McCarthy and more, but probably won’t because I haven’t planned anything for class on Monday and that would be another late night and I have get sleep for my long work day on Monday. I’m just not as hardcore as I once was, I guess. I’m getting old.

And last, but not least, I am in the process of re-watching Me And You And Everyone We Know. It’s been too long since I’ve seen it last, and it’s been fun and inspiring to watch it despite the fact that I keep falling asleep…which has nothing to do with the movie itself and everything to do with the fact that I start it at around 3 am after taking Tylenol PM (a recent bad habit I am aiming to break). I’m hoping to make it through another 20 minutes tonight. Later.

Out of frustration with the AMPAS and its exclusion among doc Oscar nominees, the doc community (rallying behind filmmaker AJ Schnack it seems) have created their own awards and shortlist for those awards. Pretty cool idea, and a way to promote some great films that don’t get enough support/recognition/viewers. Check out more info here. The films that I have seen on this list are pretty great, and I plan on seeing the rest of these that I haven’t already seen.

I’m going to see Billy the Kid (photo below) directed by Jennifer Venditti this Saturday at Film Streams. She’s doing a Q & A after the screening.

I saw Control last night at Film Streams. I thought it was somewhere between okay and pretty good. I liked Sam Riley’s onstage off-beat, strange dancing, his lankiness and his clothing and the way it fit or did not fit him. The cinematography was grainy, black and white, and beautiful.

The visuals were the best part of the film, in my opinion, although Sam Riley’s performance was really good. One long shot, in particular, really sticks in my memory as being wonderfully visual, revealing of character, and just overall kind of mesmerizing. The shot takes place soon after Ian has seen the Sex Pistols and joined Joy Division. It is a simple shot, from behind, of Ian walking to his work in an employment office. The camera follows his long stride. A cigarette dangles from his mouth and he has a long black trench coat on, the word “hate” revealed in bold, white letters on his back. The shot stays with him longer than it needs to, as he walks through the streets of Manchester, brick buildings lining the street.

I saw Killer of Sheep tonight at Film Streams. It was a very interesting and also very inspiring film, a film that makes me want to go out and make a movie (which I have already been SERIOUSLY itching to do…it’s time, I just got to get it together). The film was completed by Charles Burnett in 1977, and shot mostly in Watts, the South Central L.A. neighborhood he grew up in, during the 1970s. It was his M.F.A. thesis project for UCLA, shot on grainy, beautiful black and white 16 mm and operated, edited, produced, written and directed by himself. He made it for a reported budget of $10,000 and without the intention of having a commercial release, and thus had a ton of music in the film but not the rights. I’m just glad that it’s out for people to see it, finally.

It’s a striking film. It doesn’t have much of a narrative plot, but rather captures a specific neighborhood during a specific time so well. The mood and tone is what drives the piece, and some of the images are stunning. The film has this great scene of the daughter, who is about five years old, singing the words to a soul song that she doesn’t quite know to her doll. She tries to keep up with the song and emphasizes the words she does know, and seems totally unaware of the camera. It was SO good. I loved all the scenes with neighborhood kids just doing what they would do on a normal day in the neighborhood, whether it was playing by train tracks or in abandoned lots, having standing on their head contests, or leaping across roofs. Burnett captured that world so well…I’m sure just by going out and shooting was what actually going on.

Burnett had this to say about his experience in film school: “At UCLA in the Sixties, you thought about World Cinema – whether it was films from Poland, or Czechoslovakia, or Japan. It was like your backyard; you were as aware of Kurosawa, Truffaut making films as you were of some local person. You were waiting for the next film by these people. That doesn’t exist any more, for a whole bunch of reasons. At that time at UCLA you looked at film as an art form, as a means of expression. Not so much for entertainment, it was to do and say something. Now, when you go back there, it’s “How can I get into Hollywood? How do you get an agent? How do you sell your first script?” The whole culture has changed. It’s a business now, and I think people are more aware of it as a business. I wasn’t aware of it as a business.”

I saw The Last Detail tonight at Film Streams (with Jamie). It was a great, entertaining film with wonderful, nuanced performances by all three leads, Jack Nicholson, Randy Quaid and Otis Young. It was a film that was about something without having to be about something, with characters that felt real and with the perfect tonal mix of sarcasm, sincerity, warmth, irony and humor.

I had never seen the film despite loving the other films I have seen by director Hal Ashby, including what is perhaps my favorite film of all time, Harold and Maude. This only cements my respect and love for his work. His stories has such a humanistic feel to them. They can be dark, edgy, unconventional, and sarcastic, but they hold such a love for people…and not a certain kind of person, but the full range of diverse characters that inhabit his films. His films project a kind of curiosity, searching for the person underneath all of the posturing. I also love how he lets scenes play out in a wide shot, letting the actors play off each other and allowing viewers to soak it all in without being forced what to focus on. Ashby doesn’t tell us how to feel or try to pin down his characters or drive us through the story. He allows the characters to fully inhabit what feels like a very real world. And we in the audience get the privilege of watching. It also made me think about how that movie would never get made now. I felt invigorated and depressed after watching it. It was exciting to watch it in a theatre and it felt innovative and new and then I had to remind myself that this was a film made over thirty years ago. I felt like I belonged in a class of fifty-year olds grumbling about how they just don’t make them like they used to.

For all of you who don’t have the privilege of living in Omaha and reading the program notes and comments that Alexander Payne wrote for the films he chose as part of his curated repertory series, here are the more articulate words of Payne about The Last Detail:

“This is a film I now watch about twice a year, and it grows more profound with every viewing. It’s one of those rare seemingly simple films at once about one thing and about everything – mostly about the ways human beings can find to love one another despite the roles society imprisons us in, at the same time damning the society that keeps us from loving one another fully. Perhaps it’s about none of this. But one way in which it speaks to our current times is that, as in 1973, we are at war. Imagine a film coming out now in which Iraq is barely mentioned, but in which you see soldiers acting like the simple and complex, unique yet recognizable human beings they are– laughing, crying, whoring, stealing, getting drunk, getting in fights, happy just to blow a little per diem, resigned to a life in the military because other options are lacking. Such a film might be accused of subversiveness, but it would be subversiveness of the most gentle and honest kind. It would reveal that what it criticizes, but is elegant enough not to name, is the true subversion.”