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

Huang Weikai's (DIS)ORDER (New Chinese Documentary)

White Light Cinema at the Nightingale — Friday, 8pm
Part cinema verité, part city symphony, part essay on humans living in an urban reality, and part celebration of digital egalitarianism, Huang's film is surprisingly cohesive and concise in it's focus. Casting the city of Guangzhou (the least famous city of 10 million people in the world) as the dominant manipulator of human behavior, the filmmaker allows the viewer to make connections between the chaotic behavior of a scam artist pretending to be hit by a car, a group of men swimming in protest of an oppressive government, a black market dealer of bear paws and frozen anteaters, and countless other actual occurrences that are at once absurd and commonplace. Compiled from what is purported to be over 1000 hours of footage shot by amateur videographers, DISORDER is a seesaw between anxiety and gleeful wonderment. The sequences are bridged by asynchronous sound, bleeding from one event to the next, and the most common through-line is a never-ending parade of apathetic authority figures. “It will lead to paperwork, we have bigger problems” would be an apt alternate title for this modern masterpiece, if that didn't sidestep the greater argument being made here. By shedding light on the magnificent number of situations people get into for which there is no logical resolution, Huang renders these occurrences mundane. The man seeking relief from a health inspector for the roach in his meal is just as crazy as the man threatening to jump of a bridge unless the police help him get relief (from what we never really know). Life as a system of orderly events is not just an illusion, but is the most illogical thought of all. (2010, 58 min, Video) JH - Cine-File.info

The Cinematic Formula: Hollis Frampton (Experimental Revival)

Doc Films (University of Chicago) — Monday, 7pm  
Watching any one of Hollis Frampton's structuralist masterpieces takes commitment and patience, but seeing six of them in a row? That's either going to lead to an inspired collective mental breakthrough or the first theater-wide brain-eye melt of the spring. Focusing on Frampton's output from the 1960's, the highlights of this program are ARTIFICIAL LIGHT (1966) and MANUAL OF ARMS (1969). Each film is silent and uses the hypnotic pattern of visual repetition and textural optic variation, a mode that would be perfected in the next decade. But if the creation of an internal cinematic language is the goal in some of his later work, then these two films celebrate the inclusiveness of the human gesture. In MANUAL, various performances for the camera by 14 "actors" walk the line between over-indulgence and rhythmic serendipity, always tripping towards joy eventually. Body movement from one edge of the frame to the other and an emphasis on the light/dark dichotomy of black-and-white film emphasize each beat, and the difference between the 14 sections is like the same note played on a different instrument. Sequential fades from one face to another create the content of ARTIFICIAL LIGHT, and 21 repetitions of the sequence make the form. After the first round (which is shown upside-down), a variety of interventions are performed: negative, hand-drawn clown makeup, still shots in sequence, a flicker of colors, and so on. At each variation, despite the film's formulaic premise, or perhaps because of it, an ascending tone is struck as faces emerge from the chaos, glances are exchanged, and the power of the close-up is realized. Also Screening: HETERODYNE (1967), PALINDROME (1969), STATES (1967), and SURFACE TENSION (1968). (1966-69, 98 min total, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info

John Boorman's DELIVERANCE (American Revival)

Gene Siskel Film Center — Friday and Tuesday, 6pm
Since the plot of this film is so widely known, let's talk about the artists and the issues. Ned Beatty was never better, Jon Voight showed us that MIDNIGHT COWBOY was not a fluke, and Burt Reynolds played the hell out of the most perfect role he was ever given. But they all had to kick back and watch when Ronny Cox and Billy Redden gave us the most iconic bluegrass jam ever to grace the silver screen. These performances were buttressed by the impeccable authenticity that cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond delivered, making use of natural lighting almost throughout. Danger and moral ambiguity are still tangibly felt upon repeat viewings, owing mainly to the depth of James Dickey's script (and not hurt by his appearance as the Sheriff of Aintry, GA). It could be labeled a celebration of machismo, earned through a journey of conquest and killing—an appeasement of the male ego through self-reflexive masochism. Of course the film does this as a questioning of the position of men in white, suburban America in the early '70s. As Stepanie Farber said in her 1972 New York Times review: "In the film the journey has no purpose; nothing is achieved, nothing gained. The last images express a sense of total desolation. There is no sentimentality in the film; it is a serious and meaningful challenge to the belief in rites of manhood." SAIC professor Jim Trainor lectures at the Tuesday screening. (1972, 110 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info

Ingmar Bergman's THE VIRGIN SPRING (Swedish Revival)

Gene Siskel Film Center — Friday, 6:15pm and Tuesday, 6pm
In his first full-scale collaboration with cinematographer Sven Nykvist, Ingmar Bergman set the bar pretty high when he was awarded the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language film. More importantly, the film marks a turning point in the focus of Bergman's films, sharing both the moral questioning of earlier works, as well as the psychological examinations so prevalent in the films that followed. Adapted from a 13th century Swedish ballad, this tale of murder and revenge is as grim as if it had been penned by Kierkegaard himself, and the subjective camera's presence has a powerful ability to make us disgusted by the acts on screen. Though not graphic by today's standards, the film was nevertheless controversial upon its release, mainly due to the on screen depiction of a girl's rape and murder. Outside of the plot, it is also a visual turning point for Bergman, who utilizes vast, natural landscapes more organically than in his previous films, while keeping the implied allegory. The medieval manor house where much of the film takes place, and the historical costuming of the characters, are treated without awe by the filmmaker, creating an understated backdrop for some heavy questioning of the human condition. SAIC professor Jim Trainor lectures at the Tuesday screening. (1960, 89 min, 35mm) JH - Cine-File.info

Kittens, Biscuits, and Blots: Films by Luther Price (Experimental)

White Light Cinema at The Nightingale - Sunday, 7pm
One way to measure the ability of a songwriter is by how well they turn an apparent personal narrative into a universal human experience. They take what they have lived through (or think they should have) and mold it into words that can explain the hopes and fears of everyone. In an almost perfectly opposite position is the found-object artist, and specifically, the subspecies of the found-footage filmmaker. Their task is to take the scraps of mass media and turn it into their own personal story. Much like there are trite pop songs, there are also many dull found-footage films, where the voice of the filmmaker never comes through the postmodern montage. In the hands of Luther Price, though, unknown industrial films, afterschool specials, and other relics of the recent past create the perfect canvas for him to paint his thoughts and feelings (sometimes literally). Still not as well known as he should be, even within the obscurity that is the Experimental Film community, Price has created a wealth of cinema gems throughout his now almost 30 years of activity. In part, the reason he can sometimes be missed is the difficulty in seeing most of his work – Price almost never makes prints of his films, preferring to show his fragile originals. One creative approach he takes is to paint directly onto found footage (such as in his INKBLOT series) or to bury it in the dirt. In both cases he achieves abstract shapes that roll in rhythms of an energy chaos, ultimately finding new territory. In the BISCUITS series, Price takes documentary footage of elder care and, again, is able to recombine it in ways that seem fresh. Utilizing multiple prints of the same film, he is able to repeat phrases and gestures, and seems to tap into both the happiness of a life long lived and the melancholy of being "put in a home." There is a genuine compassion for his "found" characters; Price avoids exploitation in his re-workings or social commentary on nursing homes in general. The strongest articulation of his editing skill is in KITTENS GROW UP, so simple in its approach, yet powerful in impact. Utilizing long takes, with only a hint of the jarring audio scratches that populate many of Price's films, we go back and forth from a film about kittens learning life-skills to one about young children and their alcoholic father. The metaphor of child and kitten, both alone and scared in the world, is easy enough. The delicate task that is done so well here is using the footage of kittens to darken the mood, not soften it. (2007-08, approx. 95 min total, 16mm) JH - Cine-File.info

Verna Paravel and J.P. Sniadecki's FOREIGN PARTS (New Documentary)

Chicago Filmmakers - Friday, 8pm 
American ethnographic filmmaking is experiencing a welcome crop of understated, discrete works that look at soon-to-be-gone industries. Along with 2009's SWEETGRASS, a film about a family-run sheep ranch in Montana having its final season before closing permanently, the Sensory Ethnography Lab at Harvard supported FOREIGN PARTS, a film about another type of location that most Americans will never see, and another way of life that is in danger of extinction. The stark landscape of the Willett's Point neighborhood of Queens, NY (dominated by twisted metal and signifiers of poverty), is thrust upon us in the first moments of the film, and the hustlers, independent entrepreneurs, and dancing drunks that make their lives among this urban junkyard are revealed. In true verité tradition, the camera is a quiet observer of all situations, allowing the newly erected Citi Field (home of the NY Mets baseball team) to tower over the action like a modern-day lord's castle without feeling like a forced construction of design. The attitude of 39th Street, the neighborhood's main drag, is defined by the multi-colored signage for the many places to get dirt-cheap car parts and bodywork. Drive-by customers roll down their windows and bargain in an atmosphere reminiscent of a marketplace in an underdeveloped country. This is a populace focused on their struggles of the moment, and they seem relatively unfazed by the Bloomberg administration's plan to redevelop the neighborhood into condos, malls, and office buildings. In this way, FOREIGN PARTS is influenced by our current economic situation, but not obsessed with it. We are reminded of the divide between rich and poor in the visuals, but we get to know the people that inhabit this space, and not those that come to the stadium. The characters that concern us were poor before Wall Street had a downturn, and they'll continue to live off of scraps and recycling, even if they have to go unseen somewhere else. (2010, 80 min., video) JH - Cine-File.info

Michael Madsen's INTO ETERNITY (New Danish Documentary)

Chicago Filmmakers - Friday, 8pm
Can you imagine what the human race will be doing in 100,000 years? Will there be war and struggle? Will there be literature and art? What will they know about us? About our intelligence, our technology, our hubris? And how can we protect them, and their world, from our nuclear waste? These are the existential questions that the scientists and engineers who are building Onkalo, a massive underground fortress cum disposal facility in western Finland, are forced to confront on a daily basis. Shot and edited to feel like science fiction, Danish director Michael Madsen interviews many of the minds behind the worlds first full-scale structure designed to last 100,000 years. Descending over 500m down to the bedrock of the European continent, the series of tunnels are scheduled to start taking on waste about 2020, and to be completely filled and sealed off about a hundred years after that. It is a massive undertaking, with a planned lifespan that cannot really be conceived of in any sort of human terms. The talking heads that populate the film speculate on the best way to ensure that this storage is "permanent." Emphasizing the gravity of these decisions are digitally crisp, high-contrast, slow-motion shots of the workers who drill the tunnels, set the charges, and spend countless hours in the darkness of the tunnel. True to the sci-fi genre, their world is void of definition, and full of shadow and mystery, and is sharp, vast, and eerie. The soundtrack contains constant ominous tones, and the intertitles that separate the chapters of the story look like flashing warning signals, more ALIENS than STAR TREK. As a framing device, the director appears in a dark tunnel, lights a match near his face, and addresses questions to the future visitors who will uncover this curse. It is clear that Madsen is skeptical that the technology of the tunnel will last without repairs, and that future generations can be trusted to preserve the knowledge of what lies beneath the surface, or leave it alone if they did. (2010, 75 min, video) JH - Cine-File.info

The Wild Triumphs of Martha Colburn (Experimental Animation)

Conversations at the Edge at the Gene Siskel Film Center - Thursday, 6pm
For well over a decade, Martha Colburn has been making short anti-establishment works that are political without being statements. Full of chaos and a punk-rock aesthetic, her films critique modern life with cut-out puppets and found-footage but avoid intellectual elitism. If her imagery didn't come at you so fast, her films might be described as fun. Instead, they're cathartic capsules of directed anger. This program packs 15 films into 75 minutes, offering a good overview of the development of Colburn's practice. In the early LIFT OFF (1993) and EVIL OF DRACULA (1997) female sexuality is at the forefront, as images from magazines are manipulated into sexy astronauts and bloodsuckers. The animation is raw, and the low-fi soundtracks are reminiscent of a monster truck show announcer. Colburn also paints over the images, sometimes adding body parts, and often giving us rotating spirals. More sophisticated jointed puppets populate SPIDERS IN LOVE (2000) and CATS AMORE (2002) as arachnids with human heads and erotic dancers with cat heads seduce their targets: boy spiders and dogs. Lust and objectification are projected onto Colburn's humanoid puppets and their animated audience, celebrating red-hot sexual attraction. Her newer work is more overtly topical, covering plastic surgery (COSMETIC EMERGENCY), the "cowboy" military in Iraq (DESTINY MANIFESTO), and methamphetamine addiction (MYTH LABS). This later work is less busy, displacing rapid-fire guitars with piano, strings, and classical vocals on the soundtrack. There is an elegance in form at times, despite the still crude manner of the puppets' movements. Also screening: WHAT'S ON? (1997), MEET ME IN WICHITA (2006), DON'T KILL THE WEATHERMAN (2007), ONE AND ONE IS LIFE (2009), ELECTRIC LITERATURE (2009), JOIN THE FREEDOM FORCE (2009), TRIUMPH OF THE WILD (2009), and DOLLS VS. DICTATORS (2011). Colburn in person. (1993-2011, approx. 75 min, various formats) JH - Cine-File.info

Klaus vom Bruch's DAS SCHLEYERBAND (Experimental Revival)

White Light Cinema at The Nightingale - Sunday, 7pm
Often, the use of found footage to comment on events of the recent past involves heavy manipulation of mass produced media. There is an overt effort to deconstruct scraps of industrial communication, and to decode hidden truths about the modern world through the use of jarring visual effects. The resistance to this impulse is what makes vom Bruch's lengthy video both refreshing and hermetic. Utilizing a mixture of television news footage, commercials, and propaganda tapes from the Red Army Faction (the Anglicized name of the Baader-Meinhof group), vom Bruch's work poses more questions about West German society thirty years after the end of WWII than it answers. Images related to the kidnapping of a former SS officer who became one of the country's leading industrialists, Hanns Martin Schleyer, as well as those of a Lufthansa plane that was hijacked by Palestinian terrorists, are presented in an almost episodic fashion. Often lasting for a few minutes without cutting, vom Bruch forces the audience to rewatch newscasts of the violent "German Autumn," without the emotional distance of analysis. This approach to the subject matter serves to critique the violent nature of events without positing a reason why. The addition of images of product consumption alongside the self-produced materials of left-wing domestic terrorists seems to imply that the common thread of the West German national identity has frayed, and the lack of distinction between the two poles is an eloquent reflection of the artist's inability to make sense of what has happened. In many ways, the violent fall of 1977 was the most important national event for Germans between 1945 and the fall of the Berlin Wall, but not one that vom Bruch wants to glorify. Introduced by DePaul and Columbia College film instructor Therese Grisham. (1977-78, 112 min, video) JH - Cine-File.info