Music Box — Showtimes noted below
On a hot streak after penning the screen gems that were NATIONAL
LAMPOON'S VACATION and MR. MOM, John Hughes started a three year directorial
run that would redefine the Teen Movie, and made a splash with his 1984
debut, SIXTEEN CANDLES (1984, 93 min, DVD Projection; Thursday,
7pm). A romantic comedy with a heavy dose of slapstick, it is best remembered
for two things: making the 15 year old stars of the film, Molly Ringwald
and Anthony Michael Hall, into overnight sensations, and featuring Gedde
Wantanabe as Japanese foreign exchange student Long Duk Dong. As far
as Ringwald and Hall are concerned, this was their first major step
in becoming teen idols of the 80s. Both turned in great performances
in what would turn out to be the first of a multi-movie partnership
with Hughes, and made this teen oriented movie funnier, if not smarter,
than it deserved to be. Ringwald is the awkward sophomore who is madly
in love with a popular senior, and Hall is "the Geek." Despite having
lengthy, and still active, careers, the characters they played here
have cast a long shadow over the two, pigeonholing them for years to
come. Wantanabe has carved out a living through bit and supporting parts
(most notably on the TV series ER), but he too is irrevocably
tied to his role here—he is still being accosted by strangers for his
over-the-top portrayal of "the Donger." There is a thin line between
funny and offensive when depicting a racial stereotype and, almost 30
years later, it's still not clear where his portrayal lands. Despite
this ongoing controversy (NPR did a 2008 story on the cultural reaction
to the character), Hughes' knack for crafting memorable comic sidebars
was on full display here, as it would be in his 1985 effort, WEIRD
SCIENCE (1985, 94 min, DVD Projection; Thursday, 9:30pm). Again
casting Hall as the geek, this lighthearted tale is to computer pornography
as TRON was to computer gaming. Taking creative license from the Frankenstein
films (which the boys watch in the movie), Hall and his nerdy cohort
use a computer to create the perfect woman. Through the power of a military
mainframe and the perfect timing of a lightning bolt, these two uptight
virgins accidentally spawn Kelly LeBrock, and comedy ensues. Though
not featuring the most sophisticated of storylines (basically, nerds
use virtual woman to gain popularity and meet girls), the film is noteworthy
as the further development of Hughes' career and commercial success.
Beyond that, its focus on two insecure high-school outcasts who learn
to be comfortable in their own skin is a theme that Hughes would return
to time and again. The appeal of both these films lies in their relatable
teenage heroes, at once shy and smart, just waiting to grow up. In contrast,
there is the picaresque tale of FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF (1986,
103 min, 35mm; Friday and Saturday, Midnight), about a confident young
man doing what he can to postpone adulthood. In a performance that made
him a bonafide leading man at the age of 23, Matthew Broderick creates
a character so clever and charming that you can't help but root for
him. Beginning with a little white lie about a serious illness to get
a final day off before going to college, Ferris schemes to cheer up
his best friend Cameron with a VIP tour of the city. Wrigley Field,
the Art Institute, Michigan Avenue, and the Sears Tower ("I think
I see my dad") are the backdrop for the greatest senior ditch day
ever put on film. Its enduring appeal lies in the subplot, however,
in which the evil dean of students, Edward Rooney (Jeffery Jones), vows
to catch Ferris in the act and force him to repeat his senior year.
In the film that not only taught countless youngsters how to properly
play sick, but also showcased our city as the playground for Broderick's
under stimulated Northshore slacker, there are moments of cinematic
greatness. Along with 1985's THE BREAKFAST CLUB, these films mark the
high point of Hughes' career as a director, and the popularity of the
teen movie. SIXTEEN CANDLES and WEIRD SCIENCE show as part of the
Chicago United Film Festival. JH - Cine-File.info
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Friday, September 9, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
DeWitt Beall's LORD THING & Robert Ford's THE CORNER (Documentary Revival)
Southside Projections at the
South Side Community Art Center
(3831 S. Michigan Ave.) — Thursday, 7:30pm
For most of its history, Chicago has been a hotbed of gang culture in America. Although the street gangs of Los Angeles get more attention from the national media and Hollywood screenwriters, the Chicago gangs that formed in the late 1950s and expanded throughout the Civil Rights era really created the model for what we know today. The beginnings of the Vice Lords, one of the oldest and largest street gangs to emerge from this era, is the subject of the two documentaries presented in this rare screening of almost-forgotten films. Made just a few years after some young men from the North Lawndale neighborhood met at a juvenile correctional facility and founded the gang in 1958, Ford's THE CORNER (1962) is perhaps the earliest glimpse of the "club." Highlighting their increasing impact on Chicago's African-American communities, it feels like an industrial or educational film, but is more concerned with the feelings and viewpoints of it subjects than either would be. Utilizing non-synch narration by members of the gang, we get a sense of how these young men see themselves. They talk about why they joined a gang, why they drink, how they feel when they fight, their respect for hardworking single mothers, and their indifference towards absent fathers. These matter-of-fact statements are powerful in their self-awareness, even if they were obviously staged in a studio. We hear an articulation of the despair and hopelessness that these young men have about their prospects for a job and financial security, and their knowledge of being trapped in a cycle of poverty. This mood changes significantly in Beall's LORD THING (1970), which chronicles the VL's growth into a large coalition of gangs with over 20,000 members, and its emergence as both a community and business force. During the late 60s and early 70s, the leaders of the gang, now sometimes know as the Conservative Vice Lords (or even CVL, Inc.), began thinking well beyond their immediate surroundings and utilized their collective confidence in completely new ways. Beall gives us a fair amount of back-story, presented through re-enactments of historical fights with rival gangs, played by a cast of actual CVL members. He also documents numerous meetings of gang leaders that look and feel like town-hall meetings, and show both their increasing size and expanding concerns. Political actions such as protests carried out at construction sites, and a march on city hall—conducted as a joint action with other large Chicago gangs—illustrate how the CVL chose to use their power to influence the economic and social conditions in their turf and beyond. At times, Beall's film feels rather propagandistic—pro VL— but this may only be due to the desire that leaders like Bobby Gore have for using the VL's power to effect social and economic change. Perhaps this sympathetic depiction is the reason the film was never shown in the US, despite screening at Cannes and winning an award at the Venice Film Festival. After funding the film, the Xerox Corporation decided not to release it. Allegedly, they bowed to pressure from Richard J. Daley and the Chicago Democratic Machine, both of whom are roundly criticized in the film's final moments. Followed by a discussion with former CVL members (including poet and musician Orron Marshall), local historians, and activists. (1970 & 1962, 58 min & 26 min, DVD Projection)
(3831 S. Michigan Ave.) — Thursday, 7:30pm
For most of its history, Chicago has been a hotbed of gang culture in America. Although the street gangs of Los Angeles get more attention from the national media and Hollywood screenwriters, the Chicago gangs that formed in the late 1950s and expanded throughout the Civil Rights era really created the model for what we know today. The beginnings of the Vice Lords, one of the oldest and largest street gangs to emerge from this era, is the subject of the two documentaries presented in this rare screening of almost-forgotten films. Made just a few years after some young men from the North Lawndale neighborhood met at a juvenile correctional facility and founded the gang in 1958, Ford's THE CORNER (1962) is perhaps the earliest glimpse of the "club." Highlighting their increasing impact on Chicago's African-American communities, it feels like an industrial or educational film, but is more concerned with the feelings and viewpoints of it subjects than either would be. Utilizing non-synch narration by members of the gang, we get a sense of how these young men see themselves. They talk about why they joined a gang, why they drink, how they feel when they fight, their respect for hardworking single mothers, and their indifference towards absent fathers. These matter-of-fact statements are powerful in their self-awareness, even if they were obviously staged in a studio. We hear an articulation of the despair and hopelessness that these young men have about their prospects for a job and financial security, and their knowledge of being trapped in a cycle of poverty. This mood changes significantly in Beall's LORD THING (1970), which chronicles the VL's growth into a large coalition of gangs with over 20,000 members, and its emergence as both a community and business force. During the late 60s and early 70s, the leaders of the gang, now sometimes know as the Conservative Vice Lords (or even CVL, Inc.), began thinking well beyond their immediate surroundings and utilized their collective confidence in completely new ways. Beall gives us a fair amount of back-story, presented through re-enactments of historical fights with rival gangs, played by a cast of actual CVL members. He also documents numerous meetings of gang leaders that look and feel like town-hall meetings, and show both their increasing size and expanding concerns. Political actions such as protests carried out at construction sites, and a march on city hall—conducted as a joint action with other large Chicago gangs—illustrate how the CVL chose to use their power to influence the economic and social conditions in their turf and beyond. At times, Beall's film feels rather propagandistic—pro VL— but this may only be due to the desire that leaders like Bobby Gore have for using the VL's power to effect social and economic change. Perhaps this sympathetic depiction is the reason the film was never shown in the US, despite screening at Cannes and winning an award at the Venice Film Festival. After funding the film, the Xerox Corporation decided not to release it. Allegedly, they bowed to pressure from Richard J. Daley and the Chicago Democratic Machine, both of whom are roundly criticized in the film's final moments. Followed by a discussion with former CVL members (including poet and musician Orron Marshall), local historians, and activists. (1970 & 1962, 58 min & 26 min, DVD Projection)
Friday, June 3, 2011
John Hughes' THE BREAKFAST CLUB (American Revival)
Music Box — Friday and Saturday, Midnight
For people of a certain age, Anthony Michael Hall's voiceover that bookends this film will forever define the only roles everyone at their high school had to play: a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. And for the brat packers who formed our ensemble cast, these labels would stick with them for the rest of their careers. Watching this film makes you recall a time when Molly Ringwald (the princess) was the Emma Stone of her day, and Emilio Estevez (the athlete) was the Zach Ephron. Both were young and cute, with girl/boy-next-door good looks, and it seemed that their careers could last forever. Hall was so good as the pressure-cooked nerd who couldn't get an A in shop class that he would spend then next decade-plus trying to show his range. Ally Sheedy (the basket case) is the exception that proves the rule, as she was able to lose that label as soon as the credits rolled. Our criminal, played by the now shaggy Judd Nelson, defined cool rebellion for the better part of a decade and is surely the highlight of the film. As John Bender, he insulted the school principal right to his face (Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?), hid dope in his locker (and in AMH's underwear), saw through everyone's bullshit and called them out on it, and got to make out with the prom queen. John Bender was also full of some real malice, and had the cigarette burns on his arm to show us why. Ultimately, he forced a bonding ritual on his fellow high school students, and seemed to be the life of the party. He was the hero of the film, but what is left out of the diegesis may be Hughes' most important comment of all. We know that Bender's triumphant fist pump to close the movie (“Don't you...forget about me!”) is the high point of his life. At best he is destined for a crappy job in a bleak suburb, stuck in a loveless marriage with kids he can't stand. At worst he's drunk and alone, recounting how he blew his last best chance with that pretty little rich girl. Easily John Hughes' most mature effort up to that point, the film encapsulated the social structure of the white, middle-class, suburban high school experience of the 1980s. It celebrated the characters and the institutional halls they roamed, but also paid respect to their anxieties and problems, and never implied that these weren't the best years of their lives. (1985, 97 min, 35mm) Cine-File.info
For people of a certain age, Anthony Michael Hall's voiceover that bookends this film will forever define the only roles everyone at their high school had to play: a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. And for the brat packers who formed our ensemble cast, these labels would stick with them for the rest of their careers. Watching this film makes you recall a time when Molly Ringwald (the princess) was the Emma Stone of her day, and Emilio Estevez (the athlete) was the Zach Ephron. Both were young and cute, with girl/boy-next-door good looks, and it seemed that their careers could last forever. Hall was so good as the pressure-cooked nerd who couldn't get an A in shop class that he would spend then next decade-plus trying to show his range. Ally Sheedy (the basket case) is the exception that proves the rule, as she was able to lose that label as soon as the credits rolled. Our criminal, played by the now shaggy Judd Nelson, defined cool rebellion for the better part of a decade and is surely the highlight of the film. As John Bender, he insulted the school principal right to his face (Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?), hid dope in his locker (and in AMH's underwear), saw through everyone's bullshit and called them out on it, and got to make out with the prom queen. John Bender was also full of some real malice, and had the cigarette burns on his arm to show us why. Ultimately, he forced a bonding ritual on his fellow high school students, and seemed to be the life of the party. He was the hero of the film, but what is left out of the diegesis may be Hughes' most important comment of all. We know that Bender's triumphant fist pump to close the movie (“Don't you...forget about me!”) is the high point of his life. At best he is destined for a crappy job in a bleak suburb, stuck in a loveless marriage with kids he can't stand. At worst he's drunk and alone, recounting how he blew his last best chance with that pretty little rich girl. Easily John Hughes' most mature effort up to that point, the film encapsulated the social structure of the white, middle-class, suburban high school experience of the 1980s. It celebrated the characters and the institutional halls they roamed, but also paid respect to their anxieties and problems, and never implied that these weren't the best years of their lives. (1985, 97 min, 35mm) Cine-File.info
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Super-8 Rides Again (Special Event)
Chicago Filmmakers - Friday, 8pm
In the vernacular of cinema nothing says nostalgia and family quite like Super-8mm. With its simple light-tight cartridge and auto-exposure cameras it really was the format that gave the everyman a chance to capture memories when it was introduced in 1965. By reducing the technical skill required for filmmaking down to simply pointing and shooting it exponentially increased the number of home-movie makers and foreshadowed the era of video and the widespread documentation of weddings, school plays, and the oh-so-common Christmas mornings. While the amateur aesthetic this would suggest is not to be ignored during the unique show at Chicago Filmmakers tonight, nostalgia takes a back seat to a celebration of community. Twenty local filmmakers have each been given a single roll of film to shoot and no one, not even the filmmakers, gets a chance to see the results before they screen.* The format inspires introspection and familiarity, and it is sure to be central to a number of the films. For my contribution I walked around the Damen blue line stop early on a weekday morning and took ten-second portraits of people in my neighborhood. Both an experiment and a chance to talk to strangers on the street (I probably asked 75 people before I had enough willing participants), to me the film was a fitting reflection of the show. Being a part of an artistic community like that in Chicago is much like the city we call home: friendly, under the radar, formally challenging, and happy to take a risk. Many of the filmmakers will be in person. (2010, approx. 70 min, Super-8mm) JH - Cine-File.info
In the vernacular of cinema nothing says nostalgia and family quite like Super-8mm. With its simple light-tight cartridge and auto-exposure cameras it really was the format that gave the everyman a chance to capture memories when it was introduced in 1965. By reducing the technical skill required for filmmaking down to simply pointing and shooting it exponentially increased the number of home-movie makers and foreshadowed the era of video and the widespread documentation of weddings, school plays, and the oh-so-common Christmas mornings. While the amateur aesthetic this would suggest is not to be ignored during the unique show at Chicago Filmmakers tonight, nostalgia takes a back seat to a celebration of community. Twenty local filmmakers have each been given a single roll of film to shoot and no one, not even the filmmakers, gets a chance to see the results before they screen.* The format inspires introspection and familiarity, and it is sure to be central to a number of the films. For my contribution I walked around the Damen blue line stop early on a weekday morning and took ten-second portraits of people in my neighborhood. Both an experiment and a chance to talk to strangers on the street (I probably asked 75 people before I had enough willing participants), to me the film was a fitting reflection of the show. Being a part of an artistic community like that in Chicago is much like the city we call home: friendly, under the radar, formally challenging, and happy to take a risk. Many of the filmmakers will be in person. (2010, approx. 70 min, Super-8mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Haskell Wexler's MEDIUM COOL (American Revival)
Film Studies Center (University of Chicago) - Thursday, 7pm
How many times have you gone somewhere expecting a massive riot? And if you did go, did you also expect to come away with cinematic gold? That's pretty much what Chicago native Haskell Wexler did in '68 when he decided to shoot footage of protesters outside the Democratic National Convention. Already an Oscar-winning cinematographer for his work on WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF?, he set a fictional film about the ethics of a TV news cameraman amongst the actual chaos in the city. In MEDIUM COOL he used what was essentially a documentary crew (operating the camera himself), and had the actors intermingle with real protesters and police as all hell broke loose in Chicago. Other documentary footage was repurposed and additional narrative scenes were shot to fill in the gaps of the superficial plot, and Wexler used these elements to walk the line between fact and fiction while addressing the political climate of the times. Perhaps more than any other filmmaker, Wexler is responsible for the shooting style used in films by directors like John Cassavetes, John Sayles, and Kelly Reichardt, who all seem to have taken his advice: "If your film can reflect areas of life where people feel passion, then it will have genuine drama." Wexler in person. (1969, 111 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
How many times have you gone somewhere expecting a massive riot? And if you did go, did you also expect to come away with cinematic gold? That's pretty much what Chicago native Haskell Wexler did in '68 when he decided to shoot footage of protesters outside the Democratic National Convention. Already an Oscar-winning cinematographer for his work on WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF?, he set a fictional film about the ethics of a TV news cameraman amongst the actual chaos in the city. In MEDIUM COOL he used what was essentially a documentary crew (operating the camera himself), and had the actors intermingle with real protesters and police as all hell broke loose in Chicago. Other documentary footage was repurposed and additional narrative scenes were shot to fill in the gaps of the superficial plot, and Wexler used these elements to walk the line between fact and fiction while addressing the political climate of the times. Perhaps more than any other filmmaker, Wexler is responsible for the shooting style used in films by directors like John Cassavetes, John Sayles, and Kelly Reichardt, who all seem to have taken his advice: "If your film can reflect areas of life where people feel passion, then it will have genuine drama." Wexler in person. (1969, 111 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Films by Tom Palazzolo & Morton Heilig (Doc / Narrative Shorts Revival)
Chicago Filmmakers - Friday, 8pm
If the name Tommy Chicago doesn't ring a bell, you better ask somebody. Since he moved to the city in the early '60s to study at the Art Institute, Palazzolo has made work that captures the diversity (read: ethnic enclaves), characters, and quirks of the Midwestern Metropolis. An accomplished painter and photographer with wit to spare, he's never tried to imitate the tropes of costal experimental film stalwarts. Instead he's used (and reused) his heartland footage to craft films with joie-de-vivre and irreverence. Palazzolo edits by intuition rather than theory, and even when his technique seems crude his heart makes up for it. Tonight's program, titled Gone Rogue: An Iconoclastic Look at Church and State, features four of his shorts and what he says is his favorite film about the early sixties. If counterculture is what you're after, then CAMPAIGN (1968/2009) will provide you with the recommended daily allowance of Abbie Hoffman and Allen Ginsburg. The original Mayor Daley battles hippies and chaos, and gleefully sends his goons to keep the peace. Advantageously shot during the '68 Democratic convention, it ranks right up there with MEDIUM COOL as an accidental comment on the generational divide the event reinforced. Less political is TATTOOED LADY (1967/2009). Covering the long-since defunct Riverview Park, the camera lets the real freaks perform and enrapture us into believing that, even in 1967, this north-side amusement park wasn't downtrodden. The most recent film showing is a comedic collaboration with Second City, VATICAN WORLD (1992), and features Jon Favreau (credited as Favro) in his film debut. Favreau plays a young, near-sighted pope who enlists a PR man to increase the market share of Catholicism. Also screening is Palazzolo's HEY GIRLS (1990), based on a Heather McAdams cartoon, and Morton Heilig's ASSEMBLY LINE (1961), which has a tone reminiscent of classic 50's educational films. An optimistic young factory worker goes downtown to blow his weekly earnings but, instead of fun and camaraderie, he finds scams and loneliness and ends up at home with one more rung in the ladder of his banal industrial life. Palazzolo in person. (1961-92, approx. 70 min total, 16mm and DVD) JH - Cine-File.info
If the name Tommy Chicago doesn't ring a bell, you better ask somebody. Since he moved to the city in the early '60s to study at the Art Institute, Palazzolo has made work that captures the diversity (read: ethnic enclaves), characters, and quirks of the Midwestern Metropolis. An accomplished painter and photographer with wit to spare, he's never tried to imitate the tropes of costal experimental film stalwarts. Instead he's used (and reused) his heartland footage to craft films with joie-de-vivre and irreverence. Palazzolo edits by intuition rather than theory, and even when his technique seems crude his heart makes up for it. Tonight's program, titled Gone Rogue: An Iconoclastic Look at Church and State, features four of his shorts and what he says is his favorite film about the early sixties. If counterculture is what you're after, then CAMPAIGN (1968/2009) will provide you with the recommended daily allowance of Abbie Hoffman and Allen Ginsburg. The original Mayor Daley battles hippies and chaos, and gleefully sends his goons to keep the peace. Advantageously shot during the '68 Democratic convention, it ranks right up there with MEDIUM COOL as an accidental comment on the generational divide the event reinforced. Less political is TATTOOED LADY (1967/2009). Covering the long-since defunct Riverview Park, the camera lets the real freaks perform and enrapture us into believing that, even in 1967, this north-side amusement park wasn't downtrodden. The most recent film showing is a comedic collaboration with Second City, VATICAN WORLD (1992), and features Jon Favreau (credited as Favro) in his film debut. Favreau plays a young, near-sighted pope who enlists a PR man to increase the market share of Catholicism. Also screening is Palazzolo's HEY GIRLS (1990), based on a Heather McAdams cartoon, and Morton Heilig's ASSEMBLY LINE (1961), which has a tone reminiscent of classic 50's educational films. An optimistic young factory worker goes downtown to blow his weekly earnings but, instead of fun and camaraderie, he finds scams and loneliness and ends up at home with one more rung in the ladder of his banal industrial life. Palazzolo in person. (1961-92, approx. 70 min total, 16mm and DVD) JH - Cine-File.info
Saturday, July 11, 2009
FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF (Contemporary Revival)
Chicago History Museum - Tuesday at dusk
Sometimes there is a moment of pure serendipity in one's life and, if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it. Case in point: the Chicago History Museum is presenting the film that not only taught countless youngsters how to properly play sick, but also showcased our city as the playground for Matthew Broderick's understimulated Northshore slacker. In a performance that made him a bonafide leading man at the age of 23, Broderick creates a character so clever and charming that you can’t help but root for him. Beginning with a little white lie about a serious illness to get a final day off before going to college, Ferris schemes to cheer up his best friend Cameron with a VIP tour of the city. Wrigley Field, the Art Institute, Michigan Avenue, and the Sears Tower (“I think I see my dad”) are the backdrop for the greatest senior ditch day ever put on film. Its enduring appeal lies in the subplot, however, in which the evil dean of students, Edward Rooney (Jeffery Jones), vows to catch Ferris in the act and force him to repeat his senior year. The screening is free, and will take place on the lawn behind the museum starting at dusk. (1986, 103 min, DVD) JH - Cine-File.info
Sometimes there is a moment of pure serendipity in one's life and, if you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it. Case in point: the Chicago History Museum is presenting the film that not only taught countless youngsters how to properly play sick, but also showcased our city as the playground for Matthew Broderick's understimulated Northshore slacker. In a performance that made him a bonafide leading man at the age of 23, Broderick creates a character so clever and charming that you can’t help but root for him. Beginning with a little white lie about a serious illness to get a final day off before going to college, Ferris schemes to cheer up his best friend Cameron with a VIP tour of the city. Wrigley Field, the Art Institute, Michigan Avenue, and the Sears Tower (“I think I see my dad”) are the backdrop for the greatest senior ditch day ever put on film. Its enduring appeal lies in the subplot, however, in which the evil dean of students, Edward Rooney (Jeffery Jones), vows to catch Ferris in the act and force him to repeat his senior year. The screening is free, and will take place on the lawn behind the museum starting at dusk. (1986, 103 min, DVD) JH - Cine-File.info
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Cinema, Nature, Ecology Series: Local Landscapes (Experimental/Essay)
Film Studies Center (U of C) - Friday, 6pm (Stratman) & 7:45pm (Comerford/Brown)
Deborah Stratman, Thomas Comerford, and Bill Brown make work that is simultaneously documentary and experimental, landscape portrait and essay, personal and accessible. Three of the most engaging filmmakers working today, all are either current or former locals. Contextualized together here, their films become a mapping of the contemporary American experience and power structure. Comerford’s LAND MARKED/MARQUETTE uses locations and monuments in the Chicago area connected to 17th century explorer Jacques Marquette as a jumping-off point for reflection on representations of history and how our modern city has transformed land that was once prairie. In O’ER THE LAND, Stratman ponders the multitude of definitions that Americans have for “Freedom” by combining footage of high-school football, war re-enactments, and machine gun festivals, focusing on the participants and refusing to tell the viewer what to think. She combines these pastimes with the story of U.S. Marine Colonel William Rankin who survived a 40-minute descent through a thunderstorm in 1959 after being forced to eject from his aircraft at 47,000 feet. Bill Brown, who describes his films as postcards of pretty pictures with voice-over instead of writing, will show THE OTHER SIDE, a film about the US-Mexico border that uses migrant activists and the natural features of the desert Southwest to investigate political boundaries in a geographic and historical manner. After the screenings the artists will engage in a roundtable discussion that is sure to be the highlight of the evening. Also screening: IN ORDER NOT TO BE HERE (Stratman), FIGURES IN THE LANDSCAPE (Comerford), and CHICAGO DETROIT SPLIT (Brown & Comerford). (6pm: 2002 & 2008, 84 min total, 16mm / 7:45: 2002-06, 88 min total, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Deborah Stratman, Thomas Comerford, and Bill Brown make work that is simultaneously documentary and experimental, landscape portrait and essay, personal and accessible. Three of the most engaging filmmakers working today, all are either current or former locals. Contextualized together here, their films become a mapping of the contemporary American experience and power structure. Comerford’s LAND MARKED/MARQUETTE uses locations and monuments in the Chicago area connected to 17th century explorer Jacques Marquette as a jumping-off point for reflection on representations of history and how our modern city has transformed land that was once prairie. In O’ER THE LAND, Stratman ponders the multitude of definitions that Americans have for “Freedom” by combining footage of high-school football, war re-enactments, and machine gun festivals, focusing on the participants and refusing to tell the viewer what to think. She combines these pastimes with the story of U.S. Marine Colonel William Rankin who survived a 40-minute descent through a thunderstorm in 1959 after being forced to eject from his aircraft at 47,000 feet. Bill Brown, who describes his films as postcards of pretty pictures with voice-over instead of writing, will show THE OTHER SIDE, a film about the US-Mexico border that uses migrant activists and the natural features of the desert Southwest to investigate political boundaries in a geographic and historical manner. After the screenings the artists will engage in a roundtable discussion that is sure to be the highlight of the evening. Also screening: IN ORDER NOT TO BE HERE (Stratman), FIGURES IN THE LANDSCAPE (Comerford), and CHICAGO DETROIT SPLIT (Brown & Comerford). (6pm: 2002 & 2008, 84 min total, 16mm / 7:45: 2002-06, 88 min total, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info
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