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Love Among The Ruins.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

Ah, Ann-Margret. Her of the unique ability to be 25 and act 14.

August Bravo: Before we talk about last night’s very interesting episode – “Love Among The Ruins” -I want you to go to this site. I’m pretty sure you’ve seen it before, the “Which MAD MAN are you?” quiz. I too it and my result was Pete Campbell. I really hoped for Cosgrove. Oh well. And from last week, what you said about Draper being more forward thinking than Kinsey, I thought you meant Kinsey, the famous 50s doctor, not the character on the show. Very appropiate for you to say that.

Marco Sparks: Thank you. I do my best. Oh, you mean Alfred Kinsey? Ha ha. Yes.

August: Okay, so last night’s episode… was a very interesting one. There were o many subtle scenes throughout. I love Don’s growing anger over Pryce and the chaps from London. And I’m very intrigued to see how that anger might continue to escalate throughout the rest of the season.

Marco: Indeed. Here’s Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner talking about the chaps and dandys from London:

“The British have come here because we’re great. They’re redefining how things are done. But at the same time,they feel everyone needs a parent. That’s their attitude.”

And yes, last night’s episode with the truly great title, “Love Among The Ruins,” based on the poem by Browning, was very interesting. And there really are so many ruins there, aren’t there? Sterling Cooper itself, New York, Betty Draper’s dad, Roger Sterling’s hopes for a smoothing sailing into his post-divorce life, etc. Oh, and speaking of which MAD MAN I happen to be, I took the quiz and this is what came out…

…surprising no one, perhaps. The drama over his daughter’s impending nuptials which may or may not have Roger’s young bride Jane in attendance is fasciating to me. I think since the end of last season, I’ve actually started to really like Roger. But I do sense that the new set date for his daughter Margaret’s wedding – November 23, 1963 - might be a sad, mournful day. It will probbly rain too.

August: I’m going to go ahead and say this right now, but my favorite scene in the episode was Probably Don showing his dominence in the family by telling Betty’s brother how everything was going to be and work with the arrangements over her ailing slightly alzheimers-ish father. I always feel Don is trying to maintain his manhood in the house. Not that Betty questions it or that anyone else does, really, but he seems to constantly need to exhibit his alpha dog status in the homestead.

Marco: Perhaps because he wants to have that perfect suburban home life, and in doing so, he feels partly defined by wearing the pants at home? And let’s face it, it’s not hard to be “the man” compared to his brother-in-law. I don’t want to call anyone a slippery pussy or anything, but seriously, stuff a tampon in that guy so that he’ll shut up. Also: Bunk beds!

You know who I didn’t love before, but that I do now? Peggy Olsen, no joke.

August: Peggy’s storyline throughout this episode was unusual, but certainly a nice change. What makes her think the things she does? I wnder how her infatuation with men again will change the way she feel about work. What I really liked about her in this episode was her reenacting the “Bye Bye Birdie” scene in the mirror. Does she want to be looked at the way the men look at the other girls? I don’t think so, but maybe she wants to know if she still has it?

Marco: I think if you take the whole Marilyn/Jackie O. comparision from last year and apply it to the two main ladies in the office, of course Peggy has to compare herself to Joan. I mean, first of all, look at Joan. She has a certain kind of commanding power and authority within the office (look how she handled Moneypenny last week) and she was the first person that Peggy interacted with when she was hired. And Joan and Don really are Peggy’s main role models I think.

from here.

I like Peggy more because she takes the good advice people give her (mostly from Don and occaionally from Joan)(but also from Colin Hanks last year), and she uses it. And she gets ahead. Yeah, she wants the eye of the men, I think, but only sometimes. That kind of attention feels good sometimes, but she knows she wants and deserves more out of life and a career. She doesn’t want to be a man, I don’t think, she wants to be a woman in what has always been a man’s world, and I think her arc over the course of the show will be just as interesting as Don’s. She’s too smart, especially shown last night during the whole Patio/Diet Pepsi meeting, about which fantasy to market towards: men’s or women’s.

“You’re not fat anymore.” How condescending, Crane.

In fact, I think she’s moving closer and closer to being the human version of Don Draper, as opposed to poor mn’ blue blood Pete Campbell, who is just as lost in the world of the human beings as Dick Whitman, but isn’t as good at hiding it and/or being fucking awesome in it.

Also, as much as I do now like Roger (and you can just smell an upcoming Roger/Don confrontation, can’t you?) and his runaway out of control charm, I think he needs to be applauded and, of course, slappd across the face for his “You’re the only one here who doesn’t have that stupid look on her face” line.

August: I love that line, I think it goes, “You’ve got to leave the tools in the toolboxes.” I wonder if he means the men at the office?

Marco: Mayyyybeee. I loved the stuff with her at the bar, trolling for the finest male college boys Brooklyn could offer her, and try out a few of Joan’s zingers. It’s okay to fuck some college boys, and you know what? It’s just as okay to skip out on them in the middle of the night, Peggy. If you stay, I think you’re going to find out just how boring Burger Boy really was. I was waiting for her to add to her parting, “I work on Madison Avenue, bitch!”

Joan still has my sympathies because of her asshole husband to be (or are they already married and I missed that?). The looming threat of June 1 and her upcoming prison of maternity makes me yearn for her to make a fiery breakout.

“It’s sexy and it’s what they want.”

August: With Betty’s father living there for what I assume will be the majority of the season, I’m interested to see the unusual things he will do, as he slips further and further away. I liked his prohibition era worry to the sirens outide. And I’m curious to see more of his antics in Don’s domestic bliss this year.

Marco: It’s interesting that the father, slipping away, was still able to shake Don up last year with his comment: “He has no people!”

August: That near final scene, with Don’s kids at the summer function, with Don just sitting there, just watching the girls dance around, the bare feet moving through the grass. Don’t can’t help but watch and reach below to touch something, to feel the grass. Just for a second. Maybe just to feel something. His life is in a jumble right now, and he fees lost (as he possibly goes more introspective) and he can’t help but want to feel something, anything.”

Marco: Yes, yes, yes. That scene was incredibly beautiful to me, and also incredibly tragic. Don Draper is a lost man searching for something external that he seems to feel is missing internally. He’s been a lot of places and all of them are where he’s already been, and yet, I feel he’ll travel a lot farther and long to feel a great many more things before he really meets Don Draper/Dick Whitman at the finish line. Also, I smell a wee bit more of infidelity.

August: We still haven’t talked about New York itself yet.

Marco: You mean that ever changing, sordid little beast with the Penn Station/Madison Square Gardens change up? I like Kinsey, the young guy who believes in change, but maybe not always for the right reasons, and always have a good laugh at him, especially here, as the Grand Old Wise Man Of New York City. I see Kinsey’s side to this particular argument, especially about the great works of Roman architecture, but I wouldn’t compare New York to Rome, nor call it the greatest city on Earth. I know New Yorkers truly believe that, but, well… “a city of cry babies?” Ha ha.

But I also love Don’s magic in selling the potential clients on coming back to Sterling Cooper, and of course his frustration with then having to drop them after he not only won them back with the need for such a change to NYC. He doesn’t just give his juice away for free, people! Just the same as the fact that the man attends meetings, he doesn’t set them.

It’s an interesting time at Sterling Cooper, in NYC, in Don Draper’s life, and on Mad Men. Out with the old, and in with the new. See you next week.

Bye Bye Birdie!

Life under British rule.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

As much as we’ve been waiting for Mad Men to return, you kind of get the feeling after last night’s season 3 premiere, “Out Of Town,” that Mad Men‘s been waiting for us too. August Bravo and Marco Sparks are here to bask in the luminous afterglow…

August Bravo: Not too much much to say about this episode. It seemed so much like a filler episode, really. It’s interesting they would shoot an episode like this to start off the season. It’s too smart of a show to just make his the premiere. I feel Matthew Weiner has a hidden agenda with how this episode is supposed to make the viewers feel.

Marco Sparks: Starting with the bare feet. I’d both agree and disagree with you there, agreeing in the sense that I think last night’s episode wasn’t an explosion right out of the gates, and that the new season will probably take a few episodes to really spread it’s wings and get of the ground, but this is also a show that has proved itself able to have a major storyline soar within just a few episodes.

But I’d have to disagree in that I found last night’s episode incredibly satisfying, especially it’s perfect beginning…

Don Draper, resolving to be a better husband, up in the middle of the night making some warm milk for his pregnant wife, and his sleep deprived mind begins to wander to his own origins, hypothesizing not just how he came into the world, but how he got his original name from the eponymous male body part. How fitting.

Especially when you add in the great throwaway line about the eldest Draper daughter almost immediately afterward.

Augusto: One of the things I really liked was the way Draper found out about Salvatore, the art department guy, was gay. What a nice way for that to finally come out of the closet.

Marco: Yeah, how nice, and how tragic. Sal’s a character you just like, who always feels classy even when he’s being petty, and so in a way you were rooting for him in that scene, I think, and yet, not at all surprised at how tragically cut short it was.

Plus, the way Don flirts with the bohemians and the intellectual rich vagabonds in the past seasons, you get the sense that he’s probably much more forward thinking than some of his comrades, more so than even Kinsey, who’s just for show, so while he may hold this over Sal later (though I don’t know why he’d need to), he’s not disgusted by it. Plus, you know that Don can respect a man’s secrets.

August: Also, maybe something picked up by me was Don’s inner struggle with himself. Like he wants to be a better husband and father. Weird to say as you still him participate in his usual hobby of extramarital affairs. But the expression on his face seemed to change, to show more depth, than other episodes.

Marco: Not much of a struggle though. Don definitely wanted to fix his relationship with Betty at the end of last season, but perhaps tha didn’t mean he wanted to cut out the cheating. Maybe just get better at the cheating? Maybe only stop cheating within the state of New York? Or maybe cut out the cheating except for the opportunities hat just so perfect drop right into his lap like candy. Or, like stewardesses.

Billy and Sam, accountants/g-men.

As much as I loved the stuff in California last year, I think that “Billy and Sam” and the stewardesses was one of my favorite sequences ever in this show. Also, whie “It’s my birthday” would be a great (or should be) a great line for sex, I suspect that it actually was Dick Whitman’s birthday, if not “Don Draper’s.” I keep waiting for you to tell me that you love Pete Campbell, August.

The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife, 1820, by Hokusai.

August: Great appearance by the English guy, Pryce, as the new CFO. He was great in Benjamin Button. Probably one of my favorite characters in it, in fact. I liked the way the Brits played Pete and Ken Cosgrove off of each other, making each think that they were going to be the accounts executive.

Marco: Yeah, that guy, Jared Harris, is good, and his voice was the best thing about Fringe last year. If I remember he casting announcement, he’ll probably be around for a while and could very well bloom into Don’s nemesis this season. Plus, I’m digging the inclusion of the Brits in general this season, and laughing at the limey version of Pete Campbell, Mr. Hooker/Moneypenny.

August: What is your impression of that guy, Moneypenny/Hooker, Pryce’s right hand man? Sweet talking all the ladies and stuff. What a weird thing to put in the episode unless it actually means something down the road. I don’t know. I feel like everything in that show happens for a reason.

Marco: I think it was to set up Pryce’s debasement of him, relegating to be one of the secretaries, “one of the girls.” Plus, an office full of cute girls and you’re a tosser like Hooker, yeah, you’re probably going to try to hit on anything that moves in a skirt, you know? Plus, who knows, maybe he’ll end up as Sal’s new love interest. He is British after all.

I get the impression that you’re a big Ken Cosgrove fan.

August: Cosgrove is such an awesome character. Probablythe most interesting to me because he’s neither married nor dating anyone. He just goes out and does what he does.

Marco: In case anyone’s curious, August Bravo is the Ken Cosgrove of Counterforce.

August: Yes.

Marco: So, August, accurate or not, what do you think of the name “London Fog?”

August: I don’t know if I like/dislike it. For the show it’s a little mysterious. But I guess the entire show is built on the mystery of others. It’s the 60s, after all. People’s public lives aren’t out there in the open.

Marco: Not yet, though I think you see a little of the beginning of that last year with Marilyn’s death. And presumably with Kennedy’s death this year. The mystery of a person can be so much more real (and interesting) than the person themselves.

August: What interests me quite a bit is the idea that Don has for the London Fog ad, with it’s subtle extra meaning concerning Sal aside, with the coat being open. Very fitting for the product.

Marco: I’m actively forcing myself not to bitch too much about Pete Campbell here. In fact, I don’t need to. He’s the opposite of Don in so many ways, or at least the opposite side of the same coin as Don. He’s really just there to be the asshole and he’s perfect at it.

August: This episode doesn’t sum up too much for me, nor does it need to be summed up too much. It’s Mad Men. They don’t need to do shit, but be excellent. They just do.

Marco: All in all, and I know that August won’t really agree with me here, but this was an exciting return to form. Or maybe just the fact that the show is back and is still of such high quality is what’s so exciting. Everyone likes Don Draper, but he’s a bastard, obviously. But’s magnificent at it. You’re almost rooting for him, much the same way that if we’re all honest with ourselves, we liked Bill Clinton and that he secretly has carte blanche with us. I just hope the opening moments of the episode do indeed deliver us more about the Don Draper/Dick Whitman enigma.

“Help yourself. Not the stoli.”

And no that the show is beloved by viewers and the media alike, I hope it stays this consistent level of great and deep, and doesn’t drift off into epic levels of mediocre bullshit like Battlestar Galactica did where people were afraid of calling it what it was for fear of not looking smart.

But hey, just like Don Draper himself, this show could keep going places and ending up where it’s already been and I’d be okay with that.

The Auteur Theory, part six: The only way to get rid of my fears.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

“The only way to get rid of my fears is to make films about them.”

-Alfred Hitchcock.

And here we continue with part six of our films that we love, and perhaps even adore, that we feel should make the jump over to the Criterion Collection, if, for no other reason, just to make ourselves a little happier. But today I think we’ll venture out into international waters of fear and unease, but first…

Marco Sparks: Based on reading this, I’m tempted to make The Fountain, directed by Darren Aronofsky, my next choice, but… I won’t. I may be the only person who actually liked this movie, even though I did feel it was hurt by Aronofsky having to downgrade his vision for it do to crisis after crisis (though not quite to a Lost In La Mancha level, but still). Even still, I feel that it falls into the category of several films of more recent release, like Lost In Translation, that could very well find themselves heading into Criterion status after a little bit of aging.

Oh… well. August, what’s your pick for today?

August Bravo: Munich, 2005, directed by Steven Spielberg and based on the Munich massacre.

Seeing the trailer alone got me pretty pumped up to see this. I remember actually going to the theater and watching it, where I was quite surprised to find Benjamin Light sitting. Well, I guess it wasn’t that big of a coincidence since that was one of the only showings in town.

Eric Bana plays Avner, an old bodyguard of the prime minister of Israel, sent out on a mission to find and assassinate the men responible for the murders of the Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich olympics. Seeking not just retribution, Bana and his team are sent out to get an eye for an eye. Eleven names, eleven assassinations, all tied to Black September, or so they think. This is an unusual movie, but a very good one.

It seems the only good movies these days are either based on books or real life events. It’s such a rich topic to tackle, especially for someone like Steven Spielberg. Oh, did I mention that he directed it? Yes, Steven Spielberg is to blame for this awfully terrific movie, which is probably why this was nominated for 5 Oscars, including Best Picture. I was sad to see that Eric Bana didn’t get a nomination for Best Actor, but he had some stiff competition: Heath Ledger for Brokeback Mountain, Joaquin Phoenix (my absolutely favorite new rapper) for Walk The Line, and the eventual winner, Phillip Seymour Hoffman for Capote. I was even sadder to see that this film didn’t win a single Oscar, but this isn’t the first time Spielberg’s been atrociously robbed by this ceremony.

Now, after having given you a brief overview of the movie, here’s why I think it should be a Criterion classic: Because why not? Well, for one, it’s a Steven Spielberg movie. When is the last time he got some respect? Err, wait. Because Daniel Craig’s in it? He’s sooo dreamy. Wait. That’s not it either. Okay, because this movie has no rules. With a decently notable cast, other than the ones I’ve named, you’ve got Geoffrey Rush, Mathieu Kassovitz (from Amelie), and Mathieu Amalric, who plays Louis, the provider of names. And I can’t get over how great his role is, or how great he is in the role. Louis despises Avner because his father longs for a son more like him and the sides he does not take makes him so interesting, yet Amalric plays him such a subtle amount of venom.

Marco: I have to interject here just to add that you’re right, Amalric is really good in this role, and his presence is incredibly understated. He’s an actor (who was compared to Roman Polanski so many times in reviews of Quantum Of Solace) that you always think is going to take it over the top, but he never does. He always keeps it perfectly on the line, with those big bug eyes of his betraying so much of what’s inside him. And don’t forget to mention the equally wonderful and low key Michael Lonsdale, who’s wonderful as Louis’ papa in this film.

August: Avner’s inner struggle, wondering if what he’s doing is right, is something to pay close attention to. The cover to the two disc edition of the DVD and the original movie poster explains it well enough. The Israeli crew’s progression throughout the film is something I’ve enjoyed as well. Their circumstances can’t help but force them to grow weary of each other. Among other untimely events, the film takes you back exactly to the beginning. It seems this is something I find fascinating in movies, or, I guess you could say that I just hate resolution in films. Not everything needs to be a happy or unhappy ending. But an ending, just a regular, ordinary ending is what I feel should propel this movie to that ultimate and pivotal infamy of the Criterion collection.

Marco: Good point, that. We’ve never really discussed in depth what our personal criteria or what we see as the criterion for the Criteron collection is. Partly because it’s hard to nail down, but… there’s a certain off beatness of fine filmmaking that I feel is one aspect of it. An overlooked quality, perhaps. A somewhat political film like this definitely makes sense, possibly after a few years of aging like fine wine, just like Costa-Gavras’ Missing. But I don’t feel that the Criterion collection should be home to just plain classics. Casablanca probably shouldn’t carry the Criterion logo on it, but The Third Man certainly should.

Eric Bana as Nero, the villain in the new Star Trek movie. I dig the name.

Now, for my pick today, I’m actually going to throw out a few. And since I have the tendency to ramble on, I’ll just throw them out and walk away, most likely to talk about them another day. They are:

The Tenant, 1976, directed by Roman Polanski (and starring him as well).

Suspiria, 1977, directed by Dario Argento.

Deep Red, 1975, also directed by Dario Argento (I told you that I’d be suggesting a giallo classic or two, didn’t I?).

Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate before.

These are three excellent films of psychological horror and, well, just plain horror as well. And a clear indicator that the 70s were a great time for paranoia. The Tenant works on so many terrifying levels, further proving that Polanski was quite possibly a genius filmmaker at one time, and nobody handles the unnerving unsettling terror that lives beneath your skin like him (it’s sad to say, but the closest I’ve ever seen to true perfect sinister feelings in a film since Polanski was probably Gore Verbinski’s remake of The Ring), especially here as he deals with a little bit of diaspora unease and a lot of the existentialist hell that is living in an urban environment like an apartment complex, surrounded by people that may want to destroy you.

Marco Sparks’ favorite French hottie, Marion Cotillard reenacting the shower scene from Psycho.

As for these Argento movies… they just get inside you and grab a part of you and squeeze. And they’re beautifully lit and shot. And sooner or later, Suspiria will get remade (though I think Deep Red needs it first), possibly with Natalie Portman in the lead. Argento (whose daughter, Asia, was the subject of every cinephile’s dirty fits of lust at some point or another), has been more miss than hit in the last few decades, but for a while there he and De Palma were neck in neck for producing that certain brand of psuedo-Hitcock horror-thriller, though Argento was much more interested in the more supernatural and gory parts of life (which, thankfully, lead to his funding Romero’s Dawn Of The Dead).

August and I will continue for a little more talk about the films we love and respect and think that you should as well, but for now, we’re wondering what scares you so bad in a film that you can’t bear to watch it?

And what scares you so badly that you can’t bear to look away?

The Auteur Theory, part five: More like music than fiction.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

“A film is – or should be – more like music than fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings. The theme, what’s behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later.”

-Stanley Kubrick.

Here we are again with part five of our films that we love, and perhaps even adore, that we feel should make the jump over to the Criterion Collection, if, for no other reason, just to make ourselves a little happier. Or maybe we just want to talk about them because we like them.  Or because we’re sick, sick people…

August Bravo: One of the newest films to hit the Criterion Collection (this may actually be a joke):

Marco Sparks: Ah, interesting. You saw that, right?

August: Yes, I not only saw, but I also immensely enjoyed Benjamin Button. My opinion may be a little biased since I’m a  huge Brad Pitt fan. I often feel his performances are highly underrated, as well as most of his movies. Shut up, Benjamin.

Marco: Is it as remarkably Forrest Gump-like as it appears?

August: Well, I hear that a lot, people comparing it to Forrest Gump. Yes, I realize they have the same screenwriter and that they were both nominated for 13 Academy Awards, but the only way they are alike is the way they recap a man’s life, Benjamin Button being far more accurate though.

While they both are farces, maybe is far more of one, the emotions are so real and gives to much to what many people consider a long and boring film. It’s length really is staggering, but I would have loved to see more as David Fincher’s pinpoint accuracy  at directing really made this movie so much better. It’s continuous subtly is something that struck me the most, probably. It doesn’t have to have a lot of noise or dialogue to mean something profound, just picture. Just visual. This made me sad as you could only imagine, if you don’t already know, what happened. All good things must come to an end.

Marco: That really is so poetic that I might cry, August. Really and truly. Besides doing an update on one of our previous posts in which I’m happy to say that My Dinner With Andre will soon be a Criterion release, I’m going to have to say that you should probably do your pick while I do some very manly crying here.

August: Uh huh. Today’s pick is Sex, Lies, and Videotape, 1989, directed by Steven Soderbergh.

Sex, Lies, and Videotape isn’t my favorite movie. It isn’t even my favorite Soderbergh film. But it’s good. I can’t tell you how I came across it. I probably saw the title and thought it would be a different kind of movie. But that’s ok. I’m glad it wasn’t.

This follows a younger married couple. John, Peter Gallagher, and Ann, Andie MacDowell. John’s old college friend, Graham, James Spader, comes back home to visit a friend. He stops at John’s and finds Ann there alone. What ensues is probably exactly what you’d expect from someone visiting an old friend’s wife. Awkward conversation and a lot of confusion. When John arrives Graham changes his demeanor to a little less open. John mocks him a little and makes you think that’s what he did during their college days. Throughout the movie you learn that John is having an affair with Ann’s sister. You also learn that Graham videotapes people talking about their sexual experiences. While that is very interesting, it’s not what makes this movie worthy of being a criterion. The best thing about this movie is the conversation between the characters. How they interact. Also the fact that there isn’t any nudity in the entire movie. Not that that’s something special, but in a movie with sex in the title, you would expect oodles of tits and ass.

While this movie accomplishes nothing, which, as you know, I’m into, it’s an extremely intriguing movie that I think about often at completely inappropriate times. Not for sexual reasons, but because of how real the movie portrays itself to be. Graham’s interaction with Ann and sometimes Cynthia, his anger over John’s infidelities, Soderbergh directs this movie to perfection. A criterion collection would do this movie very much justice.

Marco: And don’t forget that this is the film (along with Richard Linklater’s Slacker) that basically invented “independent film” as a viable genre for both people like the Weinsteins and the soccer moms alike.

I feel you though on this not being Soderbergh’s greatest film, and I’m a huge Soderbergh fan, but I almost feel like this is my least favorite of his films, except for maybe something like Bubble. It fascinates me though that Schizopolis is in the Criterion collection – even though Schizopolis is a fantastic film and definitely deserves the recognition – and not this. Though the commentary on the Sex, Lies, and Videotape DVD with Neil LaBute is very interesting and informative about the art of direction, even though I tend to find LaBute to be slightly reprehensible (not just for his cinema of the destruction of women, but for his cinema of the destruction of cinema).

And since I mentioned him above, might as well go with my picks for today, which are Before Sunrise, 1995, and Before Sunset, 2004, both directed by Richard Linklater and starring Ethan Hawke and the always incandescent Julie Delpy.

The thing about a filmmaker like Soderbergh to me is that he just lives and breathes film. He’s a lifer in the game of cinema and while he’s not always producing winning material, he’s always experimenting, always reaching. He may as well have a deal with Criterion to always produce his DVDs because he, in obviously a much different way, is doing something very similar to someone like Wes Anderson to me. Constantly taking the language of the film from the past and using it to do something new. Linklater, to me, is doing pretty much the same thing, but just at a much less interesting level usually.

The first of these two films, Before Sunrise, written by Linklater and Kim Krizan, and based on a real encounter that Linklater had with a woman, has the simplest of a premises: A man and a woman meet as complete strangers on a train, and find that they have some time to kill in Vienna. The man, played by Hawke, is American, and the woman, played by Delpy, is French, and they have trains and flights to catch the next morning. and spend the night together, walking around the city, exploring it, talking, and exploring a brief romance with each other. When the sunrise comes and it’s time for them to leave each other, they make a promise to meet again in the same place in six months time.

The sequel, Before Sunset, set nine years later (the script by Linklater, Krizan, and the two leads was nominated for an Oscar), deals with the two of them reconnecting, dealing with the outcome of whether or not they met again six months after the first film, and getting to know each other again. Admittedly, that is the worst possible way to summarize these two films, but it’s difficult to do so in that they’re not heavy plot films, they’re mood pieces. They have the real ups and downs and uneasy flows of actual conversation between two people who are smart and funny and interesting and have problems. Really, the saddest part about picking these two films to talk about today is that I’m revealing myself to be, like all sleazy guys, somewhat of a closet romantic. Pathetic, I know.

The films, with essentially consist of two people talking about the big issues in life while slowly falling love with each other, have a little bit of that Eric Rohmer vibe, and there’s always talk of a third in the series (though technically there was as the cameo made a rotoscoped cameo in Linklater’s Waking Life), which would make sense since Linklater seems to have a hard on for Truffaut’s Antoine Doinel series (and is doing some kind similar project with Hawke and Patricia Arquette, filming a few scenes every year for a larger project tracking the growing life of a child). Like I said, I think Linklater wants to just keep experimenting and turning out real films, but I think you could make the argument that there’s more craft at work with Soderbergh, and that Soderbergh tends to have a higher win ratio over Linklater.

The last thing I’ll say about these films is that it’s just amazing how well they work. You want to hate them, but you’ll be charmed instantly, especially considering what a douche Hawke tends to be elsewhere (and in real life). Many prefer Sunrise for it’s idea of a first meeting, a first falling in love in a kind of pedastal way, very idealized and romantic, which is great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m a Sunset man. I’m fascinated watching the two come back together after their 20s, after they’d have their hearts broken a few times, and you see that shine growing in their eyes being around each other, that brightness that probably hadn’t been around for a while. The last 20 minutes of Before Sunset is pure cinematic thaumaturgy.

Well, I think it’s safe to say that we’ve rambled on (and by we, I mean the royal we)  enough there, so we’ll catch you another time with more diatribes about our classic films. Go enjoy yourself a nice progression of moods out there.

The Auteur Theory, part four: Film lovers are sick people.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

“Film lovers are sick people.”

-Francois Truffaut.

Here we are again with part four of our films that we love, and perhaps even adore, that we feel should make the jump over to the Criterion Collection, if, for no other reason, just to make ourselves a little happier. Or maybe we just want to talk about them because we like them.  Or because we’re sick, sick people…

August Bravo: Taxi Driver, 1976, directed by Martin Scorsese.

Travis Bickle is probably one of the most astonishing film characters in the history of movies. Martin Scorsese directed this palme d’Or winning masterpiece. The first time I watched it, I really didn’t care too much for it. It wasn’t until I felt lonely and full of despair that it made a lot of sense. What drives a man to do what he does? One of the most deperessing movie’s I’ve ever seen, maybe. How can a man just slip through the cracks so easily? And how could Scorsese potray it so damn well? Travis seemed like a simple guy, but he’s just disgusted. Disgusted with all the scum and trash that fill the city. With himself as well, maybe? A man so devoid of attention he resorts to talking to himself in the mirror in probably one of the most memorable scenes in film history.

What spirals this movie into a need for Criterion fame is his desolation. I think that’s what really drives him mad, and what drives him do after going mad. It’s a haunting image to see Robert DeNiro sitting there towards the end after his attempt to rescue child prostitute Jodie Foster, blood everywhere, holding a makeshift gun to his head just wanting to pull the trigger. By far the best line from the movie: “Loneliness has followed me my whole life. Everywhere. In bars, in cars, sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There’s no escape. I’m God’s lonely man…”

Marco Sparks: I’m ecstatic that you picked this movie, which as distasteful as it can be, is a true American classic, and not something like… I don’t know… Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer, which people are always trying to tell me is a “classic.” Scorcese has a winning formula here and I feel like he basically remade it in 1983 with The King Of Comedy, a film that I like a hell of a lot more.

For my pick today I am going to happily suggest: Chinatown, 1974, directed by Roman Polanski.

This is another movie that I’m almost afraid to start talking about for fear of talking way too much about it. If you haven’t seen this film yet, then I have to assume that you’re still a toddler. But unless you’re a blind toddler, or in a coma, then you need to be seeing it. If you’re an adult or near the age of making adult mistakes and you haven’t seen this yet, then… put simply, you don’t deserve cinema.

“My sister! My daughter! My sister! My daughter! My sister! My daughter!”

Polanski, despite what anyone may think of him personally, is a master filmmaker, and he’s particularly good with one single element of life: That sense that something is off and just not quite right. Sometimes it’s paranoia, and suspicion of one’s surroundings, but that’s if you’re lucky to nail the feelings his films inhabit so perfectly down into words. Repulsion had it, as did Knife In The Water. The Tenant had it, and of course Rosemary’s Baby had it, as did Death And The Maiden to a fair degree. Hell, his pure amazing shlock demonic thriller The Ninth Gate had it in perfect, crazy overabundance. It worked perfectly in all those films and especially here in this neo-noir masterpiece.

The film, with it’s brilliant script by the always excellent Robert Towne, was based on the real life water wars in California, but is so twisted and wonderful and captures that perfect essence of feeling like it could be a true story word for word.

And do I even need to go into how perfect Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway are in this film? Not to mention John Huston. This film, which was to be originally titled “Water World” is a rare, amazing example in Hollywood of everything going perfectly right and the end result is scary brilliant. The sequel, The Two Jakes, directed by Jack Nicholson himself, isn’t too shabby either, but it’s a sequel to one of the best films ever produced in this country, so there’s no way it could’ve gotten close to the original.

If you truly have never seen this, then part of me wants to show up at your house with this and maybe a bottle of wine. In fact, let’s do that. I’ll be over next week sometime. Which goes better with popcorn, white wine or red?

Personally, I love that August picked a movie about how fucked up New York is and that I followed up with a film that says essentially a lot of the same things about Los Angeles. I’d love to counter that with something sweet and sentimental about either town or tell you that no matter where you live, home is where the heart is, but let’s face it, you’re just going to get your heart broken no matter where you go. So instead I’ll just say… We’ll see you next time.

The Auteur Theory, part three: Old whores know how to give many kinds of pleasure.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

“Cinema is an old whore, like circus and variety, who knows how to give many kinds of pleasure.”

-Federico Fellini.

And here we continue with part three of our films that we love, and perhaps even adore, that we feel should make the jump over to the Criterion Collection, if, for no other reason, just to make ourselves a little happier. But here we stay closer to home with some more of our domestic picks…

August Bravo: Cool Hand Luke, 1967, directed by Stuart Rosenberg.

I don’t really expect much controversy on why I chose this. Rewind back to my teen years: I would wander around Blockbuster ineccessantly looking for movies. Movies I’ve never heard of. I don’t know why I did this, I just don’t anymore. After a while, I could literally do this at work. This movie struck my eye though in my life up until this point the only mention of Paul Newman I’d heard of was the salad dressing.

But after watching this movie the first time I didn’t know what to think. Luke was the first character I’d ever seen written so cool. Not a car in the world. What a way to go to prison to bust the heads off parking meters. I couldn’t think of a better way. Whether it was eating eggs, having a cool hand, or getting your ass beat without giving up, Luke lived the way others did not. In a house of prisoners, he had no regrets. A shame the only Oscar this movie won was for the supporting actor, Dragline. A great performance, yes, but Luke owned this movie. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Spawning one of AFI’s most famous quotes, “What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.” The most notable scenes, or my favorites anyway, were the ones in the prison themselves, with the most banter and best dialogue. The movie was re-released last year, shortly before Newman’s death, but it was in fact not a Criterion. I don’t ever see it becoming one, probably due to it’s popularity and lack of special footage, but that’s fine. The film will still go down as one of Newman’s best performances.

Marco Sparks: Network, 1976, directed by Sidney Lumet.

Do I even need to explain this?

I hate to use the word satire more than once (and I do use it again in this post) but this movie is a perfect example of satire done right, perfecting showing you a world very much like ours, and very much like ours will become. In fact, the only detriment to this entering the Criterion collection to me is that it still feels a little too fresh. Maybe in another ten years it’d be more than perfect.

I’d like to tell you that this is in my top 5 films of all time, but more than that, it’s probably in my top 3. Easily. I could probably go on forever here if prodded.

August: American Psycho, 2000, directed by Mary Harron and based on the novel of the same name by Bret Easton Ellis.

You’re crazy if you didn’t think I was going to go with this one. While some out there think this is my favorite movie, it’s not. It is neither the most quotable. No, this is the movie that makes me feel the best about myself. Why? I can’t tell you that. I’m sure you can probably assume though. I got a certain affirmation for this film after I read the novel.  While the book has it’s moments, the movie is chalk full of them and Christian Bale was perfectly cast as Patrick Bateman. I’m almost curious to see how Leonardo DiCaprio would have fared, having almost nabbed the role himself. It starts the same way it ends, which is something I enjoy in movies. Just because you sit down and watch something for an hour and a half doesn’t mean something should be learned or should change. Change is hard to deal with and hard to accept. While many people refuse to believe that the things happening in this movie are real, I most certainly do. The constant confusion with who’s who leads me to believe that Patrick Bateman isn’t suffering from amnesia or schizophrenia. What he’s doing is actually real. I’m sure Bret Easton Ellis wanted this to be debated, as well as Mary Harron, the director.

That is by far one of the most fascinating things about the film right there, that a woman directed it. Not that a woman can’t direct, but that one made such a foul and emotional film towards women.

Marco: Mary Harron does an amazing job with the direction here, as done the screenwriter, Guinevere Turner (who’s hot, btw)(not that it matters, but still)(and has a cameo in the film), with the translating of the book to the screen. But I think you could make the argument that had this movie been done in the hands of a man, it’d be much more likely seen as celebrating the misogynistic violence that some felt the story was entirely about, but in these two very capable ladies’ hands, it comes out nicely as really adept satire.

August: I find something new and interesting about this film every time I watch it. The supporting actors and actresses are also amazing. It’s hard for me to comprehend how they got such a stellar cast to do this movie. Everything seems like it’s done with such restraint. And restraint, especially in movies, is a difficult thing to achieve. I know this will never make it to Criterion status, but it sure is nice to dream.

Marco: August and I probably have one more of these left in us, so we’ll see you in the next few days. Catch you then.

The Auteur Theory, part two: The ribbon of dreams.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

“A film is a ribbon of dreams. The camera is much more than a recording apparatus; it is a medium via which messages reach us from another world that is not ours and that brings us to the heart of a great secret. Here magic begins.”

-Orson Welles.

And here we continue with part two of our films that we love, and perhaps even adore, that we feel should make the jump over to the Criterion Collection, if, for no other reason, just to make ourselves a little happier. But here we hit a little closer to home with some domestic picks…

Marco Sparks: My first choice is Putney Swope, 1969, directed by Robert Downey, Sr. and it’s a simple and easy choice.

This film is red hot burning satire, hilarious at times, and an excellent example of what an American film can look like. We’ve all seen it and it’s been better described elsewhere, so I don’t have to say a whole lot here, but if for some reason you haven’t seen it (and you’ve certainly seem homages to it if you’ve ever seen a single P.T. Anderson film), get your ass on it. It’s worth your time.

Obviously, a Criterion no brainer, I would think. August?

August Bravo: Shadow Of A Doubt, 1943, directed by Alfred Hitchcock.

Probably my favorite Hitchcock film (David Mamet’s, too), and most likely Hitchcock’s as well. I had the pleasure of watching this for the first time in my cinema class. My teacher told the class to pay particular notice to the number 2 in this film, something I thought nothing of until much, much later.

The story is about a man named Charlie. The first scene shows him on the run from two men. Not much is known, but one thing etched into my memory are the bars over his face, coming from the shadow cast by the window. A great bit of foreshadowing. Or maybe not. He visits his married  sister, and her kids. His favorite of the kids is also named Charlie, who’s ecstatic to see her uncle. Weren’t we all like that as kids? So excited to see family, but now as adults we do anything we can to get away from them. But maybe that’s just me.

I don’t want to reveal too much, but the relationship between the two Charlies and how it develops throughout the movie is something that I’ve always found interesting. There’s a pretty strong theme here for 1943, something I still find eerie to this day.

Once again, not having a completely satisfying ending, or maybe it does, is something I thoroughly admire about this film. I enjoy thinking about a film days after I’ve watched it, or at least, I like movies that stick with you for days after you’ve finished them. Not many have that kind of staying power anymore, but Shadow Of A Doubt stays with you for years. Several of Hitchcock’s other films have made their way into the ranks of the Criterion collection and I feel that this film strongly deserves that same level of infamy.

Marco: August has just shamed me wonderfully since Shadow Of A Doubt is one of the few films by the master that I have yet to see, along with Notorious. I’ll get there, man. I’ll get there.

But for my last film for today, I’m going to keep it painfully simple: My Dinner With Andre, 1981, directed by Louis Malle.

There’s quite a bit I could say about this film, which is easily in my top 5 of all time and one that I watch at least once a year, so the trick here will be to say the least. I saw it written somewhere that this film is about two men who meet for dinner, eat in real time, and talk. Yeah, but that’s kind of missing the point, and they don’t even really eat in real time, but there’s such a fine attention paid to detail here that you probably do feel like you’re the silent man at the table during the conversation that takes place here.

Semi based on their real selves, Wallace “Inconceivable!” Shawn is a playwright on his way to dinner with an old friend, New York theater director Andre Gregory, “a man I’d been avoiding, literally, for a matter of years,” who had troubled out of sigth for a while, reportedly traveling the world. But one day a friend encounter Andre  leaning against a building in Manhattan and weeping, having just walked out of an Ingmar Bergman film, where a particular piece of dialogue had left him devastated: “I could always live in my art, but not in my life.” This is what sets up their dinner encounter.

And what an encounter it is. Andre has indeed been around the world and seen some amazing things, and the stories he has for Shawn are incredible. Shawn, a man of simple desires, who wants merely to have a littl money and to be able to lay in bed with his girlfriend, warm under their electric blanket, and read his biography of Charelton Heston, has his eyes opened by a Gregory’s almost explosively adventurous and spiritual look at the world. And so did I. What starts like the ravings of a mad man from Gregory will slowly begin to show you that there is so much more to life if you take one second to not be content with just being another fat, dumb, and happy somnabulist.

Both men are wonderful here and the script was compiled from their real life conversations together, and when you add to the beautiful way that Malle photographs this film, it’s perfect. Like I said, I watch this movie at least once a year and I’d love to tell you that it’s my litmus test for people to pass or fail as they enter my life, but I can’t. Everyone would fail, sadly, and this just isn’t a film for everyone.

I’ll end with this bit from Roger Ebert’s review of the film: “Someone asked me the other day if I could name a film that was entirely devoid of cliches. I thought for a moment and then answered, ‘My Dinner With Andre.’”

Anyway, August and I will be back tomorrow or the next day with a few more domestic selections from you, continuing and possibly concluding our series. I don’t want to leave you with a cheesy statment, like… “Go watch a good film!” so instead, I’ll just say… Watch your step.

The Auteur Theory, part one: Truth at 24 frames per second.

Posted by Marco Sparks & August Bravo on

“Photography is truth. The cinema is truth at 24 frames per second.”

-Jean- Luc Godard.

Marco Sparks and August Bravo consider themselves to be armchair cinemaphiles, probably just like yourself, but they’re just more arrogant (and sometimes, more knowledgeable) about it than you. But like every good poor man’s film critic, they regard the Criterion Collection with the highest of regard because, well, how can you not? Some of the world’s finest cinema in just about every genre is collected there, meant for the true lovers of film. And for the idiots. And any and all between. But sometimes, just sometimes, you come across a film that’s excellent and you have to ask yourself, “Why isn’t this in the Criterion Collection?” Join us as we do a little bit of that ourselves.

August Bravo: Blow-Up, 1966, directed by Michelangelo Antonioni.

The best kind of movie is the one with no real ending. This movie is exactly that. Blow-Up (or Blowup) follows a fashion photographer, played by David Hemmings. After taking pictures one night he wants to take those and publish it into an art book. Whilst living his daily life in swinging London he comes across a beautiful park with a beautiful couple in it. He photographs them. The film makes it almost seem he’s done something like this before. Photograph couples unknowingly, I mean. After getting the sufficient photos, he leaves and notices himself being stalked by none other than the woman from the pictures he was taking in the park. Her reaction to him taking pictures is what spirals the movie into something entirely different. It’s a very quiet and slow film. You almost wait for the exact moment where everything catapults into something action packed, but it doesn’t. Not to me, anyway. What movies this movie is the two girls that want to get their pictures taken earlier in the film. Why put these girls in the movie? That’s something I think about endlessly with films. Why did the writer put this in the script? What importance did these two innocent, young girls have? Also something you need to find out for yourself. The cover may give it away, but it may not. I was reminded of this film a couple of years back while watching a movie called Cache, or “Hidden” in French, directed by Michael Haneke (of Funny Games fame). I got the same unusual feeling I got at the end of that movie as I did with this one. Yes, I realize thsi movie is a bit pretentious, once again to me, anyway, but very well deserving of criterion status. Although, it is no Fool’s Gold.

Marco Sparks: I like how you threw in Fool’s Gold there, FTW. But, damn straight Blow-Up should be a criterion classic. They’ve done a wonderful job with Antonioni’s L’Avventura and L’Eclisse and they should definitely expand to his other films like this or even Red Desert or Zabriskie Point (by now it has to be worthy of crazy cult status, right?) or even La Notte, the middle film in the unofficial trilogy that L’Avventura and L’Eclisse bookend. Also, Cache. An excellent mention there, Mr. Bravo. A great film. The kind of movie that would probably leave Hitchcock unsettled.

But for my first selection: Blissfully Yours, 2002, directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul.

This oddly lovely Thai romance film by Apichatpong Weerasethakul (but you can call him “Joe,” like his friends and critics do, since there’s a Thai tradition of adopting nicknames rather than hearing people butcher their long names) is a bit of a weird pick for this, I know. But that is why I picked it. No description of the plot will do it justice since it’s literally about the love affair of a man and a woman, and the slightly older woman who’s jealous of them (and there’s lots of sex), but more so than plot, this is a mood piece. A tonal work if ever there was one. One thing I like about the Criterion collection is not just that they’ve expanded a lot of people’s knowledge and ideas about film to include foreign disciplines, but they’ve also shown you that film as art doesn’t always have to have a ridiculously complex plot, nor be a life or death matter. How one judges life and death is different from person to person, the same with the art we love and appreciate. With that in mind, I would definitely include this film by Joe, or perhaps his first film, Mysterious Object At Noon, a half documentary, half neature narrative exploration of the exquisit corpse party game.

August: La Dolce Vita, 1960, directed by Federico Fellini.

What Fellini movie shouldn’t be made into a Criterion classic? Well, a few, but this isn’t one of them. I prefer 8 1/2, but as most, or maybe just some of you know, that’s already in the collection. The title literally translates into “The Sweet Life,” this movie offers you insight on the life of the famous. Anita Ekberg gives a dashing performance as Sylvia. And Marcello Mastroianni is always riveting. Spawning probably  one of the most famous phrases, “paparazzi,” named after Marcello’s friend Paparazzo, a photographer of stars. This movie shows the life of a reporter, who’s just trying to find a meaning for life. After many flings with a great many women he’s still left confused. The endingis one of the best I’ve ever seen. With almost no structure, the film is probably meant to confuse the shit out of everyone, an initial reaction that Fellini probably not only expected but counted on. As probably one of the most imaginative directors there were, I’m sure he had many reasons to make this the way he did. And I wouldn’t change a thing.

Marco: Well said. The previous releases of this film were quite nice, but they do deserve that extra little Criterion stamp of approval. It’s so weird to see so much of our contemporary society still so familiar with the world of 1960′s Italy, and yet there it is. And as for the ending, which is brilliant, this film reminds me a great deal of Seinfeld in that sometimes in nothing we can find everything. Fellini was certain man who had issues with woman, and his career was all about that, being in love and in war with those issues and those women. I can’t help but think of “Asa Nisi Masa,” the words that make the pictures move.

For my next pick: The Passenger, 1975, directed by Michelangelo Antonioni.

When I tell you that I’m an Antonioni fan, you’ll understand that I’m serious. It’s no joke, it’s the real deal. I could talk for hours about this film and I could talk your ears off, but what I’ll say here instead is that I’ve done a lot of reading on the filmography of this director, and this period in his life was especially interesting. Around this time, Antonioni was trying to capture a certain feeling, to make a certain idea of his come to life. You can see it in the scripts that he wrote right before this, the films that never came to life and eventually evolved into this project, also called Professione: Reporter, starring Jack Nicholsonson and Maria Schneider. Antonioni was desperate to tell the story of a man so lost that he hoped to find himself and who would just keep going until he got there. Or somewhere. The title here takes on a different meaning altogether due to one cast members’ refusal to any driving in the film, thus switching roles in an interesting way.

August: Trainspotting, 1996, directed by Danny Boyle.

Don’t we all just need one more fucking hit? I do. So does Ewan MacGregor. I don’t know what first brought me to watch this movie. Maybe you, Peanut? Regardless, this is one of my favorite films. It starts off with some junkies, literally willing to inject/do anything to get get high. Sounds like a lot of people I know. Renton (played by MacGregor), or Rents, as everyone likes to call him is the focus of the film. After trying to quit, he goes through a tumultuous journey where he gets back on and off the heroin wagon. But heroin isn’t what this movie is all about. It’s about life. It’s about trying to be somebody, kind of. One can’t go on their entire life being a junkie, which is why Rents quits in the first place.

The fact actually made it’s way into the halls of Criterion on laserdisc, but I only mention that because what the fuck is a laserdisc and who the fuck cares? It’s got some positive reinforcement as it shows Rents actually succeeding in life. But it just comes to a crashing stop, ultimately showing you that you can quit a drug, but you can’t quit your friends. A lot of this movie is about growing up, especially towards the end. That sounds reasonable that the growing up takes place in the second half of the movie, yes, but this isn’t your ordinary drug film. Or any film. Probably one of my favorite soundtracks ever as well. The score leaves a lasting effect on how you perceive this movie and it’s characters.

Marco: for my last pick today, I give you Visitor Q, 2001, directed by Takashi Miike.

There’s a lot of cinema from Asia that I would suggest here, including Oldboy, which is soon to be remade here in America, Last Life In The Universe, Miike’s own Audition, Battle Royale, and probably even Lust, Caution. And that’s not even to mention the other fine foreign movies that didn’t make the list here just because of space such as Amores Perros and A Clockwork Orange.

But I picked Visitor Q for a lot of reasons. Firstly, when it’s all said and done, this is a good movie. But that gets lost in just how fucked up it is (it is Miike, after all). This is a film that starts incestuous sex and ends with a man and a young woman being breastfed by their wife/mother. In between those two points you get a lot of violence, sex, drug use, and necrophilia. But it all ties together (not so much nicely, but semi-completely) in a message about maternal nurturing and what it takes to heal a broken down family. But let me put it this way, if it’s content was toned down and this was released forty years ago in either Italy or France, it’d already be a known classic just hanging off the lips of scholars, not just cinematic perverts like you and me. But still, you ponder, too risque for the Criterion collection? Well, they did put out a version of Salò, didn’t they? And after you’ve released an art film with people eating shit in it, well… you can release a lot of different kinds of art after that, I’d imagine.

Okay, that’s enough from us for today. We decided to break this down into two posts, foreign and domestic, so tomorrow or perhaps the next day we’ll bring this a little closer to home. Until then…

STAY TUNED!