The Nightingale - Friday, 8pm
Having been continuously inhabited since before the record of history
began, the diversity of the human experience in Eastern Africa is difficult
to comprehend in anything other than abstract terms. Ethiopia is a country
made up of 85 million people and over 80 distinct cultures with just
as many indigenous languages. So what better way to learn about the
country and its people than through a travel documentary, right? Wyatt's
film portrays 13 different tribes but, as travel documentaries go, it
gives a distinct lack of contextual information. We get subtitles telling
us the location and name of the people featured in each section, and
we become acutely aware that these are just labels and not definitions.
We observe the visual and aural uniqueness of each segment, but there
is no narration to lead us along the way. Differences in clothing and
hair styles are lingered upon by the camera, and almost ever scene features
singing, whether it is part of a wedding celebration, a chant during
a ritual feeding of hyenas, or a multiphonic song to ease the stress
of manual labor. Because we don't get a translation of what is going
on, this makes the viewing experience more like being a foreigner in
a strange country for the first time, and less like a reader of Lonely
Planet. Structurally, this is both refreshing and disorienting.
Sights and sounds from one village blend into those from another, and
our learning about Ethiopia occurs in real time. The details of each
tribal member become of lesser import than the greater societies from
which they are born, and the diversity of the country is realized in
our inability to define it in broad strokes. You won't leave the screening
with a handful of facts about the country, but your mental image of
Ethiopia will be sharper and closer to the real thing. Also screening
is Wyatt's SEEKING THE SPIRIT (2010, 10 min, video), a powerful but
gentle portrait of the congregation of the Celestial Church of Christ
and their annual month-long worship ritual on Rockaway Beach in New
York City. The practitioners, most of whom are immigrants from Benin,
practice their unique form of Pentecostalism between the hours of Midnight
and 6am. Their leader and prophet explains their beliefs to us in voice-over,
and the black and white images of white-clad men and women gesticulating
almost as if possessed remind us of the power of belief. (2010, 60 min,
video) JH - Cine-File.info
Friday, December 3, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
The Voyagers - A Double Feature: Works by Penny Lane and Brian Frye (Experimental)
The Voyagers: Part One - Video Inquiry: Work by Penny Lane
The Nightingale - Saturday, 7pm
There are some auteurs that use a distinctive camera style or work with the same themes over and over. And then there are those like Penny Lane who jump around visually and thematically, but whose work is united through a distinctive voice. In pieces such as WE ARE THE LITTLETONS (2004) this voice is literal, as Lane narrates. It is in an investigation into the whereabouts of an adopted child cast out of the family, but it may as well be about any black sheep. As the camera wanders throughout the now empty home, drawers are opened revealing memories both happy and sad, but as correspondence between the filmmaker and the matron unfold on the soundtrack Lane suggests that black sheep, like the rest of us, are shaped by their environment. The way digital environments shape their users is explored in both MEN SEEKING WOMEN (2007) and SOMETIMES I GET LOSSY (2008), as Lane checks in on both the personals section of Craigslist and her own screen induced boredom/psychedelic daydream. Time is the place that defines THE VOYAGERS (2010). Using the Golden Record that was placed aboard the Voyager spacecraft as a jumping off point, Lane frames this particular NASA project as a love-letter to the chance happening that is the existence of the human race. A launching into the unknown, a wonderment at the beauty of existence, and a touching piece involving both Carl Sagan and Coney Island, it is her wedding present to her husband, Brian Frye. ALSO SCREENING: HOW TO MAKE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY (2010), FAMOUS LUNCH 03.25.05 (2009), SHE USED TO SEE HIM MOST WEEKENDS (2007), and THE COMMONERS (2009). Penny Lane in person. (2004-10, approx. 53 min total, video)
---
The Voyagers: Part Two - The Anatomy of Cinema: Films by Brian Frye
White Light Cinema at The Nightingale- Saturday, 9pm
It is hard to describe the work of Brian Frye as anything other than distant. Distant serendipity (THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, 1999). Distant sublime (THE LETTER, 2001). Distant absurdity (ACROSS THE RAPPANHANNOCK, 2002). Time and again Frye's camera (or that of the original shooter) finds the poetry in a situation by keeping away from the human subjects. This contextualization lends an air of analysis to what are quite lyrical films of memory, history, sorrow, and Civil War reenactment. All the while, as these ghosts haunt the screen, one gets the impression that it is not the misery of the human experience that excites the filmmaker, but rather the hope and joy of those who lives are imperfect. When they are projected through that mystic machine, stiff actors become icons, archetypes for all that is important. The reels contain not stories, but messages from the creator, ciphered by the artist into almost understandable visions that seem to come from the early part of the industrial age. Frye gives these important ideas the space to resonate with the viewer, but also doesn't smother our minds with structure and order. There is not chaos, but a gentle observation of the profound, taken from a safe spot across the river from the real battle. Also Screening: 6.95 STRIPTEASE (1995), 9.95: THE MOST IMPORTANT MOMENT IN MY LIFE (INFINITE SET) (1995), MEETING WITH KHRUSCHEV (1997), and KADDISH (2002). (1995-2002, approx. 85 min, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info
The Nightingale - Saturday, 7pm
There are some auteurs that use a distinctive camera style or work with the same themes over and over. And then there are those like Penny Lane who jump around visually and thematically, but whose work is united through a distinctive voice. In pieces such as WE ARE THE LITTLETONS (2004) this voice is literal, as Lane narrates. It is in an investigation into the whereabouts of an adopted child cast out of the family, but it may as well be about any black sheep. As the camera wanders throughout the now empty home, drawers are opened revealing memories both happy and sad, but as correspondence between the filmmaker and the matron unfold on the soundtrack Lane suggests that black sheep, like the rest of us, are shaped by their environment. The way digital environments shape their users is explored in both MEN SEEKING WOMEN (2007) and SOMETIMES I GET LOSSY (2008), as Lane checks in on both the personals section of Craigslist and her own screen induced boredom/psychedelic daydream. Time is the place that defines THE VOYAGERS (2010). Using the Golden Record that was placed aboard the Voyager spacecraft as a jumping off point, Lane frames this particular NASA project as a love-letter to the chance happening that is the existence of the human race. A launching into the unknown, a wonderment at the beauty of existence, and a touching piece involving both Carl Sagan and Coney Island, it is her wedding present to her husband, Brian Frye. ALSO SCREENING: HOW TO MAKE AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY (2010), FAMOUS LUNCH 03.25.05 (2009), SHE USED TO SEE HIM MOST WEEKENDS (2007), and THE COMMONERS (2009). Penny Lane in person. (2004-10, approx. 53 min total, video)
---
The Voyagers: Part Two - The Anatomy of Cinema: Films by Brian Frye
White Light Cinema at The Nightingale- Saturday, 9pm
It is hard to describe the work of Brian Frye as anything other than distant. Distant serendipity (THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY, 1999). Distant sublime (THE LETTER, 2001). Distant absurdity (ACROSS THE RAPPANHANNOCK, 2002). Time and again Frye's camera (or that of the original shooter) finds the poetry in a situation by keeping away from the human subjects. This contextualization lends an air of analysis to what are quite lyrical films of memory, history, sorrow, and Civil War reenactment. All the while, as these ghosts haunt the screen, one gets the impression that it is not the misery of the human experience that excites the filmmaker, but rather the hope and joy of those who lives are imperfect. When they are projected through that mystic machine, stiff actors become icons, archetypes for all that is important. The reels contain not stories, but messages from the creator, ciphered by the artist into almost understandable visions that seem to come from the early part of the industrial age. Frye gives these important ideas the space to resonate with the viewer, but also doesn't smother our minds with structure and order. There is not chaos, but a gentle observation of the profound, taken from a safe spot across the river from the real battle. Also Screening: 6.95 STRIPTEASE (1995), 9.95: THE MOST IMPORTANT MOMENT IN MY LIFE (INFINITE SET) (1995), MEETING WITH KHRUSCHEV (1997), and KADDISH (2002). (1995-2002, approx. 85 min, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Friday, October 15, 2010
Restoring Appearances To Order: Rare Films by Coleen Fitzgibbon (Experimental)
White Light Cinema at The Nightingale - Friday, 7:30pm
When structuralist filmmaking works, its like watching performance art. You are often intrigued and confused, unsure of whether or not you liked it, only able to intelligently speculate on the artists' intentions at a later date. The work of Coleen Fitzgibbon does that too, but in a warmer way. Where Vito Acconci's video work makes you anxious, Fitzgibbon's RESTORING APPEARANCES TO ORDER IN 12 MINUTES (1975, 12 min, 16mm) delivers calm like a cup of chamomile. The camera holds a static close up as Fitzgibbon scrubs a well-used utility sink throughout, clearing up every drop of paint from the labor of art making. More ambitious and more uneven is L.E.S. (1976, 30 min, S8mm on video), a neighborhood portrait cum mockumentary about the residents of Manhattan's Lower East Side. The narrator vacillates between speaking as a news reporter and an anthropologist, and when the film works, spins tales about the native dwellers of the apocalyptic landscape. An indictment of capitalism and its headquarters just to the south, the film also serves as an excellent document of urban decay before gentrification was part of our vernacular. It is political in its very existence, and is a welcome counterbalance to Fitzgibbon's more formal work. ALSO SCREENING: GYM (1973, 4 min, S8mm on video), TIME (1975, 8 min, 16mm), TRIP TO CAROLEE'S (1973, 6 min, S8mm on video), MARGIES HOUSE (1973, 6 min, S8mm on video). JH - Cine-File.info
When structuralist filmmaking works, its like watching performance art. You are often intrigued and confused, unsure of whether or not you liked it, only able to intelligently speculate on the artists' intentions at a later date. The work of Coleen Fitzgibbon does that too, but in a warmer way. Where Vito Acconci's video work makes you anxious, Fitzgibbon's RESTORING APPEARANCES TO ORDER IN 12 MINUTES (1975, 12 min, 16mm) delivers calm like a cup of chamomile. The camera holds a static close up as Fitzgibbon scrubs a well-used utility sink throughout, clearing up every drop of paint from the labor of art making. More ambitious and more uneven is L.E.S. (1976, 30 min, S8mm on video), a neighborhood portrait cum mockumentary about the residents of Manhattan's Lower East Side. The narrator vacillates between speaking as a news reporter and an anthropologist, and when the film works, spins tales about the native dwellers of the apocalyptic landscape. An indictment of capitalism and its headquarters just to the south, the film also serves as an excellent document of urban decay before gentrification was part of our vernacular. It is political in its very existence, and is a welcome counterbalance to Fitzgibbon's more formal work. ALSO SCREENING: GYM (1973, 4 min, S8mm on video), TIME (1975, 8 min, 16mm), TRIP TO CAROLEE'S (1973, 6 min, S8mm on video), MARGIES HOUSE (1973, 6 min, S8mm on video). JH - Cine-File.info
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Comedic Video Art: Visual Poetics and Songs about Dogs (Experimental)
Hopscotch Cinema at the Nightingale - Sunday, 7pm
This trifecta of video makers could work as a primer on the lighter side of video art, from the 70s to now. The most famous artist in the show, William Wegman, is known for using his pet Weimaraner (named Man Ray) as a lead actor. Man Ray is often a patient prop, and occasionally annoyed as Wegman dresses him up in a series of ridiculous costumes and narrates a stream of jokes, some better than others. If it's possible for a dog to "ham it up," Man Ray is the all time champion of canine kitsch. A full-time ad man, Neil Ira Needleman was once described as "Woody Allen's funny gay brother." He makes sweet, witty video pieces, often full of self-mockery about his creative process. Suffice it to say his cat makes appearances, and often is a harsh critique of Neil's work. Chad Knutson, the youngest of the bunch is less a product of the video age, and more a phenomenon of the YouTube generation. He points the camera at himself, and half rants, half sings to us. Almost like stand-up comedy without any buildup, his videos are short, variable, and occasionally brilliant. (1978-2010, 70 min total, video) JH - Cine-File.info
This trifecta of video makers could work as a primer on the lighter side of video art, from the 70s to now. The most famous artist in the show, William Wegman, is known for using his pet Weimaraner (named Man Ray) as a lead actor. Man Ray is often a patient prop, and occasionally annoyed as Wegman dresses him up in a series of ridiculous costumes and narrates a stream of jokes, some better than others. If it's possible for a dog to "ham it up," Man Ray is the all time champion of canine kitsch. A full-time ad man, Neil Ira Needleman was once described as "Woody Allen's funny gay brother." He makes sweet, witty video pieces, often full of self-mockery about his creative process. Suffice it to say his cat makes appearances, and often is a harsh critique of Neil's work. Chad Knutson, the youngest of the bunch is less a product of the video age, and more a phenomenon of the YouTube generation. He points the camera at himself, and half rants, half sings to us. Almost like stand-up comedy without any buildup, his videos are short, variable, and occasionally brilliant. (1978-2010, 70 min total, video) JH - Cine-File.info
Internal Systems: Films by Coleen Fitzgibbon (Experimental Revival)
Conversations at the Edge at the Gene Siskel Film Center - Thursday,
6pm
When structuralist filmmaking works, its like watching performance art. You are often intrigued and confused, unsure of whether or not you liked it, only able to intelligently speculate on the artists' intentions at a later date. The work of Coleen Fitzgibbon does that too, but in a warmer way. Where Vito Acconci's video work makes you anxious, Fitzgibbon's RESTORING APPEARANCES TO ORDER IN TWELVE MINUTES (1975, 12 min) delivers calm like a cup of chamomile. The camera holds a static close-up as she scrubs a well-used utility sink throughout, clearing up every drop of paint from the labor of art making. She also tries her hand at found image manipulation in FOUND FILM FLASHES (1974, 3 min), stuttering and blinking her way through what appears to be an interview. The subject never gets to blurt out his story, as the sound skips back and forth and the images slow down in the projector gate. The result is alternating squelch and mind's-eye view, and works to subvert any concrete meaning outside the film itself. The bulk of the program is taken up with INTERNAL SYSTEM (1974, 45 min), an ambitious work of abstract film. The entire frame is taken up with monochromatic color, subtly shifting in hue and saturation and brightness, breaking down the projected image into the barest components of light. Shape, line, texture, and depth are eliminated, leaving only shifts from red to green to blue, broken by clouds of black, and distinguishable only by the change in speed. ALSO SCREENING: FM/TRCS (1974, 11 min) Fitzgibbon in person. (1974-75, 71 min total, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info
When structuralist filmmaking works, its like watching performance art. You are often intrigued and confused, unsure of whether or not you liked it, only able to intelligently speculate on the artists' intentions at a later date. The work of Coleen Fitzgibbon does that too, but in a warmer way. Where Vito Acconci's video work makes you anxious, Fitzgibbon's RESTORING APPEARANCES TO ORDER IN TWELVE MINUTES (1975, 12 min) delivers calm like a cup of chamomile. The camera holds a static close-up as she scrubs a well-used utility sink throughout, clearing up every drop of paint from the labor of art making. She also tries her hand at found image manipulation in FOUND FILM FLASHES (1974, 3 min), stuttering and blinking her way through what appears to be an interview. The subject never gets to blurt out his story, as the sound skips back and forth and the images slow down in the projector gate. The result is alternating squelch and mind's-eye view, and works to subvert any concrete meaning outside the film itself. The bulk of the program is taken up with INTERNAL SYSTEM (1974, 45 min), an ambitious work of abstract film. The entire frame is taken up with monochromatic color, subtly shifting in hue and saturation and brightness, breaking down the projected image into the barest components of light. Shape, line, texture, and depth are eliminated, leaving only shifts from red to green to blue, broken by clouds of black, and distinguishable only by the change in speed. ALSO SCREENING: FM/TRCS (1974, 11 min) Fitzgibbon in person. (1974-75, 71 min total, 16mm) JH - 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, June 26, 2010
Ilisa Barbash & Lucien Castaing-Taylor's SWEETGRASS (New Documentary)
Music Box - Check Venue website
for showtimes
Rarely in cinema do we have the chance to witness both an elegy and a eulogy. A simultaneous lament for and celebration of a life that has recently passed on. Such is the power of the silver screen: to take footage of people doing their job, and in the process, encapsulate the death of an era, an occupation, and a national myth of identity. Or at least that's how the team behind SWEETGRASS chooses to use movie magic. Aside from being an excellent collection of Bierdstadtian landscape shots of the Montana Wilderness, the film tells the story of a band of sheep, horses, cowboys (sheep herders, actually), and their dogs during a summer spent grazing on the public lands in high mountain valleys. The film opens in late spring, with snow still on the ground. Quiet and stillness dominate our world, as wide shots of mountain peaks seem to get ever closer to an unseen destination, when finally we cut to a low angle shot of the commercial sheep herd. Hundreds of white sheep stand still, filling the screen and stretching into the distance. The texture of their wool resembles the melting snow we've seen in the preceding shots, and the lack of noise will stand in stark contrast to the rest of the film. Finally we move in to a close-up of a single sheep standing, chewing on grass. Slowly, he turns his head towards the camera, chewing constantly. At the very moment when he finally turns to look straight at the camera, he suddenly stops chewing. He stares straight ahead, blankly, silently, with a small hint of fear, and completely still. And after the title card, our audio endurance test begins. A "baah!" here, and a "baah!" there. Eventually the incessant and overbearing sound of the herd emerges, and a constant drone sustains throughout the entire film. "BAAH! BAAH! BAAH!" Constantly. The sound is deafening, but eventually you begin to pick out the differences in the noises, and almost hear them as voices, and understand the mood of the vocalist. When the Drive begins, we head out as one gigantic group of 1000 sheep, horses, dogs, and people. As we move through forests and over creeks, the skill of the sheep dogs becomes evident. The cowboys constantly call to them, and the dogs usher the herd towards safety. The cowboys split up on the way, and each take a few hundred sheep, a horse, and two or three dogs into a valley, where they stay for the summer. There's quite a bit more humor and drama than you might expect from these men of few words. They live a primitive life, harkening back to an earlier era. They sleep in canvas tents and cook with wood-burning stoves. But they also carry sophisticated cameras (for documenting a sheep killed by a bear) and cell phones. They exist in two worlds, and one of those worlds is coming to a close. However, this really is the story of the sheep, and when everyone comes back from the mountains for the very last time, the sheep are sent off to slaughter. The cowboys, knowing that an occupation that they personally had held for a lifetime was gone forever, drive home, saying nothing to one another. The sheep were gone, and in the typical Western economy of language, so were all the words. (2009, 101 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Rarely in cinema do we have the chance to witness both an elegy and a eulogy. A simultaneous lament for and celebration of a life that has recently passed on. Such is the power of the silver screen: to take footage of people doing their job, and in the process, encapsulate the death of an era, an occupation, and a national myth of identity. Or at least that's how the team behind SWEETGRASS chooses to use movie magic. Aside from being an excellent collection of Bierdstadtian landscape shots of the Montana Wilderness, the film tells the story of a band of sheep, horses, cowboys (sheep herders, actually), and their dogs during a summer spent grazing on the public lands in high mountain valleys. The film opens in late spring, with snow still on the ground. Quiet and stillness dominate our world, as wide shots of mountain peaks seem to get ever closer to an unseen destination, when finally we cut to a low angle shot of the commercial sheep herd. Hundreds of white sheep stand still, filling the screen and stretching into the distance. The texture of their wool resembles the melting snow we've seen in the preceding shots, and the lack of noise will stand in stark contrast to the rest of the film. Finally we move in to a close-up of a single sheep standing, chewing on grass. Slowly, he turns his head towards the camera, chewing constantly. At the very moment when he finally turns to look straight at the camera, he suddenly stops chewing. He stares straight ahead, blankly, silently, with a small hint of fear, and completely still. And after the title card, our audio endurance test begins. A "baah!" here, and a "baah!" there. Eventually the incessant and overbearing sound of the herd emerges, and a constant drone sustains throughout the entire film. "BAAH! BAAH! BAAH!" Constantly. The sound is deafening, but eventually you begin to pick out the differences in the noises, and almost hear them as voices, and understand the mood of the vocalist. When the Drive begins, we head out as one gigantic group of 1000 sheep, horses, dogs, and people. As we move through forests and over creeks, the skill of the sheep dogs becomes evident. The cowboys constantly call to them, and the dogs usher the herd towards safety. The cowboys split up on the way, and each take a few hundred sheep, a horse, and two or three dogs into a valley, where they stay for the summer. There's quite a bit more humor and drama than you might expect from these men of few words. They live a primitive life, harkening back to an earlier era. They sleep in canvas tents and cook with wood-burning stoves. But they also carry sophisticated cameras (for documenting a sheep killed by a bear) and cell phones. They exist in two worlds, and one of those worlds is coming to a close. However, this really is the story of the sheep, and when everyone comes back from the mountains for the very last time, the sheep are sent off to slaughter. The cowboys, knowing that an occupation that they personally had held for a lifetime was gone forever, drive home, saying nothing to one another. The sheep were gone, and in the typical Western economy of language, so were all the words. (2009, 101 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Joel Schumacher's THE LOST BOYS (Contemporary American Revival)
Music Box - Friday and Saturday,
Midnight
In addition to being the first movie where Corey Feldman and Corey Haim (R.I.P.) appear together, THE LOST BOYS is also a darn good time. In a rarity for a horror film from the '80's, the comedic elements work to lighten the mood without bringing too much cheese. Much as with Schumacher's previous movie targeted towards teenagers, ST. ELMO'S FIRE, the production team doesn't cut corners. Recently pubescent vampires (Keifer Sutherland, Jason Patric, and Jami Gertz) and soon-to-be pubescent comic store geeks (Haim and Feldman) get the adult treatment as realistic characters, without a comic foil in the bunch. Though the film was shot in and around Santa Cruz, the fictional location of San Carla, CA, is adeptly rendered as a dark and downtrodden small town, and feels like it could exist on the edge of the Salton Sea. With it's run-down boardwalk, gang problems, and mysterious disappearances, this is not the "Sunny California" that was (and is?) a staple of the movies. Though the film lags a bit during the third act, the night-time scenes of the amusement park and the vampires' lair are dead on, and the soundtrack features an excellent cover of "People are Strange" performed by Echo and the Bunnymen. (1987, 97 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
In addition to being the first movie where Corey Feldman and Corey Haim (R.I.P.) appear together, THE LOST BOYS is also a darn good time. In a rarity for a horror film from the '80's, the comedic elements work to lighten the mood without bringing too much cheese. Much as with Schumacher's previous movie targeted towards teenagers, ST. ELMO'S FIRE, the production team doesn't cut corners. Recently pubescent vampires (Keifer Sutherland, Jason Patric, and Jami Gertz) and soon-to-be pubescent comic store geeks (Haim and Feldman) get the adult treatment as realistic characters, without a comic foil in the bunch. Though the film was shot in and around Santa Cruz, the fictional location of San Carla, CA, is adeptly rendered as a dark and downtrodden small town, and feels like it could exist on the edge of the Salton Sea. With it's run-down boardwalk, gang problems, and mysterious disappearances, this is not the "Sunny California" that was (and is?) a staple of the movies. Though the film lags a bit during the third act, the night-time scenes of the amusement park and the vampires' lair are dead on, and the soundtrack features an excellent cover of "People are Strange" performed by Echo and the Bunnymen. (1987, 97 min, 35mm) 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, April 10, 2010
Nicholas Ray's REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE (American Revival) & John Hughes' THE BREAKFAST CLUB (Contemporary American Revival)
Nicholas Ray's REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE
(American Revival)
Doc Films (University of Chicago) - Monday, 7pm
---
John Hughes' THE BREAKFAST CLUB (Contemporary American Revival)
Doc Films (University of Chicago) - Wednesday, 7 and 9pm
American in the '50s vs. America in the '80s. Eisenhower and hula-hoops vs. Reagan and the Rubik's Cube. Conformity reigns: go to school, get a job, get married, and move to the suburbs. Makes you want to drop out right now doesn't it? Cinematically, the two decades were also high points of the Teen Movie genre, and you can't have a stellar film about teens without a good looking rebel that makes the girls swoon. Is it careful planning that allows Doc Films to bring us the most iconic rebels of each decade in one week, or just serendipity? It really doesn't matter, because at the very least we get a chance to use them as the lens through which the two decades are contrasted. Let's get one thing straight; when REBEL was released in 1955 (one month after James Dean's death) it was daring, fresh, and hard-hitting. A critique of morally corrupt youth, lackadaisical parenting, and the decay of the American family, it still commands praise of the highest degree for its quality of acting and ability to capture teenage angst in an honest, believable, and frank manner. Hughes' skill as a movie maker cannot be compared to Ray's, but his young cast was every bit the equal of Sal Mineo, Natalie Wood, and Dean in their collective ability to connect with a teenage audience. For people of a certain age, Anthony Michael Hall's voiceover which bookends the film will forever define who everyone at their high school was: a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. And our criminal, played by a now shaggy Judd Nelson, defined cool rebellion for the better part of a decade. As John Bender he insults the principal to his face ("Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?"), hides dope in his locker, sees through everyone's bullshit and calls them out on it, and gets to make out with the prom queen. But since we're comparing the two films, what does each anti-hero tell us about each director's vision, and about the decades they inhabit? In the 50's, Jim Stark is misunderstood, a young man who feels out of place in society, too sensitive to relate to his peers, and set up by society to fail. But his parents are simply misguided: they love Jim; they just don't know how to take care of him. We know that if he just gets a chance he can be somebody good, he just needs a few years. He lives in an optimistic America, where tomorrow is a bright new day. In the '80's though, John Bender has some real malice, and the cigarette burns on his arm to show us why. He forces a bonding ritual on his fellow high school students, but we know that his triumphant fist in the air to close the movie will be 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. The American dream is on the ropes, the rich are gonna get richer, and human connection is a fleeting illusion. You've got two choices, get with the program, or suffer the consequences. (1955, 111 min, 16mm/1985, 97 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Doc Films (University of Chicago) - Monday, 7pm
---
John Hughes' THE BREAKFAST CLUB (Contemporary American Revival)
Doc Films (University of Chicago) - Wednesday, 7 and 9pm
American in the '50s vs. America in the '80s. Eisenhower and hula-hoops vs. Reagan and the Rubik's Cube. Conformity reigns: go to school, get a job, get married, and move to the suburbs. Makes you want to drop out right now doesn't it? Cinematically, the two decades were also high points of the Teen Movie genre, and you can't have a stellar film about teens without a good looking rebel that makes the girls swoon. Is it careful planning that allows Doc Films to bring us the most iconic rebels of each decade in one week, or just serendipity? It really doesn't matter, because at the very least we get a chance to use them as the lens through which the two decades are contrasted. Let's get one thing straight; when REBEL was released in 1955 (one month after James Dean's death) it was daring, fresh, and hard-hitting. A critique of morally corrupt youth, lackadaisical parenting, and the decay of the American family, it still commands praise of the highest degree for its quality of acting and ability to capture teenage angst in an honest, believable, and frank manner. Hughes' skill as a movie maker cannot be compared to Ray's, but his young cast was every bit the equal of Sal Mineo, Natalie Wood, and Dean in their collective ability to connect with a teenage audience. For people of a certain age, Anthony Michael Hall's voiceover which bookends the film will forever define who everyone at their high school was: a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. And our criminal, played by a now shaggy Judd Nelson, defined cool rebellion for the better part of a decade. As John Bender he insults the principal to his face ("Does Barry Manilow know you raid his wardrobe?"), hides dope in his locker, sees through everyone's bullshit and calls them out on it, and gets to make out with the prom queen. But since we're comparing the two films, what does each anti-hero tell us about each director's vision, and about the decades they inhabit? In the 50's, Jim Stark is misunderstood, a young man who feels out of place in society, too sensitive to relate to his peers, and set up by society to fail. But his parents are simply misguided: they love Jim; they just don't know how to take care of him. We know that if he just gets a chance he can be somebody good, he just needs a few years. He lives in an optimistic America, where tomorrow is a bright new day. In the '80's though, John Bender has some real malice, and the cigarette burns on his arm to show us why. He forces a bonding ritual on his fellow high school students, but we know that his triumphant fist in the air to close the movie will be 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. The American dream is on the ropes, the rich are gonna get richer, and human connection is a fleeting illusion. You've got two choices, get with the program, or suffer the consequences. (1955, 111 min, 16mm/1985, 97 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)