 Tough to find a photo so here's a boring shot of an airport Director: Ken Loach Writer: Jim Allen Cinematographer: Clive Tickner Producer: Eric Fellner by Jon Cvack I write this as impeachment remains at the forefront of congressional politics; with Democrats divided between the political consequences and other members concerned with the principles of the matter. Many on the left are frustrated by Mueller’s equivocation, believing that his refusal to specifically state a crime had been committed has allowed Trump and his Republican acolytes to claim complete exoneration. Given that this entry probably won’t go up for another year (it was written in August, 2019), I remain on the fence about what I think will happen. Ultimately it seems that avoiding impeachment will empower future presidents to bend, or even break the law, knowing that the only consequence they’ll face is a future election. On the other, should the public be drawn into a long legal battle, it could favor Republicans, and with zero chance of conviction in the senate, it could have reverse effects. Hidden Agenda explores a strikingly similar topic. The apocryphal story takes place amidst the feud between the Irish Republican Army and Britain, as the right-wing British government led by Margaret Thatcher denies Ireland’s independence, labeling its dissidents as terrorists, and utilizing torture and extrajudicial assassinations in order to combat the problem. Loosely based on true events, the characters and their actions are inspired by actual British intelligence and government figures who authorized shoot-to-kill policies against IRA members. Ingrid Jessner (Frances McDormand) and Paul Sullivan (Brad Dourif) are two American lawyers who have been investigating the torture of IRA prisoners, opening up at a press conference after they’ve released the report. It’s clear that while the media will report the incident, the government will deny the allegations and little will happen. Later, on the eve before they’re set to leave, Paul receives a tape from a provisional IRA supporter which contains British police forces admitting their methods. Driving in the country, security forces shoot them down, steal the tape, and fabricate a story. The event captures national headlines and the UK police investigator Peter Kerrigan (Brian Cox) is hired to investigate the murder. He quickly learns how little police are going to cooperate. In one scene, Captain Harris (Maurice Roëves) flexes his bureaucratic chops, going so far as to say he can’t provide details due to confidentiality, regardless of the fact that Kerrigan is supposed to have full access to any and all documentation. Again, in an age where Trump and Attorney General Barr prevented the Mueller report’s immediate release due to Executive Privilege, refusing to turn over any and all documents, and putting a gag on present and former Trump administration officials - we see the common thread between authoritarian-leaning governments. They will justify their actions by sculpting the narrative which propagates a lie, then refuse to provide details through bureaucratic skullduggery (the irony being that it’s this exact secrecy and overreach that they typically criticize before their election). The film follows the traditional hybrid witness-protector political thriller we typically see in films in films such as Mercury Rising (1998), Enemy of the State (1998), and No Way Out (1987); with the cynical tone found in David Mamet’s best crime films. The one difference being the grim conclusion. Ingrid works with Paul to find the tape, leading him into the IRA’s underworld, where instead of the begrimed training camp headquarters, they find a tavern where guitarists sing folk songs about their desire for independence. After meeting a local IRA leader who explains the terrors they’re dealing with, they get closer to retrieving the tape and learn the dark truth about the government. With Peter’s partner knowing he could lose his job and dropping out, and higher officials attempting to blackmail Peter with suggestive, though inaccurate photographs of him and Ingrid, we soon learn how determined the government is to ensure the information never gets out. Counter to the typical endings of the genre, Peter succumbs to the pressure. When Ingrid nearly loses her life securing the tape, catching Peter just before he boards his flight, Brian Cox provides a phenomenal moment of humane guilt. Peter refuses to go any further with it and his final report won’t include any information featured on the tape. Completely dejected, Ingrid is left on her own, whether to give up, get caught, or continue on. The movie ends with a quote: “It is like layers of an onion, and the more you peel away, the more you feel like crying. There are two laws running this country: one for the security services and one for the rest of us.” James Miller, ex-MI5 agent Ignorant in British politics and history I believe more liberal British governments have come to power since Thatcher, and I’m left wondering what happened to her methods. Though whether they continue or have diminished or vanished altogether, the story serves as a reminder that authoritarianism isn’t always to the extreme of Hitler. Government’s breaking the law must always be held accountable. Peter is far more a coward than Mueller, and if anything could further defend Mueller against his harshest critics. However, if we learn that this is just one branch of a far wider and more expansive tree; that if, in fact, the migrant camps are flirting with inhumane methods that’d better be categorized as concentration camps, then we might look back on Mueller as failing to have the courage to speak up. I was confident that Peter went on to file a report that specified the extrajudicial killings of Paul and the informant, though perhaps like Mueller, he would only say that those specific offers committed the crime, not wanting to implicate his government so harshly; hoping change would come soon enough. Brian Cox at least allows us to entertain the possibility. In an age of extreme partisanship on either side of the aisle, my fear is that it allows both the left and right to put blinders up when injustices in their own party are committed. By possessing so strong a conviction that the other side is evil and corrupt, it emboldens to ignore or disregard their own side’s immorality. It’s how those in the upper echelons of power stay in power, by having the masses fight against each other rather than strive for a virtuous government that serves all. BELOW: Film 90 on the Film from 1990 Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Gotta have the fresh ground Director: Ron Underwood Writer: Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel Cinematographer: Dean Semler Producer: Irby Smith by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Although it’s a strange relationship in that essentially the ranch owner is having tourists pay him to do work, over a two week period they will learn how to herd cattle, taught by the few remaining cowboys who within about two hours, hit on Bonnie and help to demonstrate how far we have come as a society, as with 80s comedy-type flavor, the men harass the customer and yet remain on the job, as though it was just a simple mistake. They head into the open canyons and the antics begin, where after Mitch causes the cattle to run off when grinding some fresh coffee beans with his electric, he enrages Curly who demands they alone round them up. What I failed to remember were the volume of heart to hearts, as during their detour, Curly mentions how he was in love only once in his life, with a girl he never admitted his feelings to; later telling Mitch that the meaning of life is finding that cryptic “one thing”, which I remember feeling frustrated about as a kid, and now fully comprehend. They later deliver a baby cow (which Mitch names Norman), in what I don’t recall being such a graphic scene (we see a baby cow actually exit the mother), but leaves Mitch speechless until Curly shoots the mom in the head as she suffers post-birth. For as heavy as all this, the film never feels pedantic or heavy, always balancing the philosophy with good humor. As the three men ride, after Ed asks whether Mitch would sleep with Bonnie even if she was an alien that came to Earth and no one could possibly find out, Phil asks each of them for their best and worst day (excluding having children). Mitch mentions going to Yankee Stadium for the first time with his dad, the worst day being that Barbara had once found a lump, thinking it might be cancer; later finding out it was innocuous. Ed says that Mitch is a “glass-half-empty-kinda-guy”, failing to see why discovering it was nothing should have made it the best day of their lives (both perspectives make sense). Phil mentions his wedding day as the best, and every day after being the worst, ending on Ed who offers a fairly grim story of his deadbeat dad moving out of the house as both the best and worst day of his life. Mitch goes on to tell them about Curly’s One Thing Philosophy, unsure of what it exactly meant. Curly dies later that evening, leaving the crew in the hands of the two cowboys who, without supervision, proceed to get drunk and shoot off their guns, soon aiming them at Norman the baby cow, causing Mitch and Phil to come storming out. Phil attacks the pair, wrangling the gun out of Cookie’s hand and pointing it as his face, and in another scene that was far more somber than I remember, seems to consider shooting him dead, as after over a decade of abuse by his wife and father-in-law, the last thing he wanted was for another bully to get their way. Mitch calms him down and the two cowboys take off that night, leaving them with no food or supplies and all the cattle to drive in. Ed, Phil, and the rest of the crew, including the Shalowitz brothers, the doctor and his son, and Bonnie all decide to leave, abandoning the cattle. But Mitch refuses. Ed and Phil remain, and so begins one of the most impressive and elaborate climatic sequences I can remember seeing in recent times. The rain begins to storm down, leaving them to drive these wild cattle, culminating in getting them to descend a muddy slope and into and across a river to reach Colorado on the other side. There is no CGI. What it looks like is that - with very few digital effects - they actually film real cattle doing all of this, including Herman getting taken away in the river, which Mitch then dives into, roaring through the rapids, catching up to the baby cow and barely hanging onto a branch before being whisked away, saved at the last moment by Ed and Phil. Mitch returns home to his wife and kid, realizing they’re his one thing; and for as cheesy as the ending is, where in pure 90s fashion, he meets them outside the airport, and while hugging them and getting into the car, a helicopter shot pulls out as the voice over continues. Regardless of the sentiment, it somehow works, and in shere conservative fashion, we see the character return to and find meaning in family, no longer worried about his monotonous and repetitive job. While it was the adventure of outdoor living and his bond with nature that provided the answer, somehow it put the previous life in perspective. It’s not wrong; it’s just the inherent conservative conclusion of Hollywood. What makes the movie work is the perfect combination of western tropes within popular comedy. I was close to saying it was the first time such a thing had been done, then realized how stupid it was. But the film feels unique; as though nothing like it had been done before. It’s not easy to make a movie about heavy things, and while it stands a better chance with humor, I struggle to think of many more films that can be seen by youth as an action-adventure comedy, which reveals an additional layer about relationships and life’s meaning in modern American. Many of us had large dreams, and while some are closer to others, I don’t know personally anyone that’s fully actuated their goals; they too are going through the grind, at times frustrated, and there’s no shame in family being what’s most important in the brief time we’re here. It’s a movie like that I would have watched in college and found as a precaution; to avoid the 9-5 track of life I rather pursue my dreams. I’m now making a living by directing, but it’s not the most fulfilling work. I too find myself thinking about quitting, until I pinch myself to think I’m making a pretty good life out in Santa Monica and living with a partner I love. Still, there’s an never0ending feeling of wanting more out of life; strikingly similar to what I felt in college before deciding I’d give LA a shot. I came out here to make movies and the years are now flying by. The sad reality is that the vast majority of people pursuing their dreams are going to fail and likely fall back on something else. And so I’m left in this odd phase; of being so close and yet so far. Either way - we will all fade faster than we imagine and so it's about this moment, what we're doing, and if a pursuit provides an optimal of healthy pleasure, to either myself or others, then that's what matters most. Whatever happens, it’s at least one thing. BELOW: One of my favorite monologues Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Life's about that one thing Director: Ron Underwood Writer: Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel Cinematographer: Dean Semler Producer: Irby Smith by Jon Cvack Time is accelerating in such a way that I’m nearly nauseated. As of this writing, coming up is my yearly bros trip for Memorial Day weekend, which looking back my photos, feels like it just occurred, which once over, will signal start of summer where I’ll promise myself to go to the beach more and be outside, but will end before I ever have the chance to try, meaning my birthday is around the corner where my girlfriend will take me out of town, returning to scary movie month which will fly by, followed by thanksgiving and Christmas soon after, where I’ll be able to take ten days to reflect on how I’m possibly back to my parent’s house which feels like I had just visited. Granted, Covid has disrupted nearly all of these, and Christmas no longer looks as certain. It feels like I’m in that scene from First Man (2018), where the capsule begins spinning out of control, going faster and faster and crashing toward Earth. As dark as it sounds, my parents will die far faster than I expected. If I have a child, they will grow from infant to teenager quicker than I could ever imagine, and while such a thing forces you to appreciate each moment, what I find myself struggling with is that anything - whether good or bad - will come and go like a bullet train passing by. Time moves so fast that while even remaining present, it’s not possible to fully appreciate or despise a moment. I will be middle aged very soon, I will have less time to live than more very soon, and then I will be dead. I don’t mean for it to sound so grim as I don’t actually find it entirely depressing. I’ve explored meditation three times in my life - high school, college, and right after college, and none of them ever stuck. As of last January 2018, I’ve continued the habit mostly twice a day, at least once a day, and missing it altogether maybe one day per week. Similar to exercising a muscle - and I really want to emphasize the physicality of this - meditation allows me to brush my thoughts back as they wander into obsessive and grim dark holes - about my career, work, or life in general. What I’ve gained is an ability to remain present within the moment and throughout the last eighteen months I find myself more aware and appreciative of each and every moment - whether beautiful or sad. I find myself less offended by everyday frustrations, realizing I’m often being either unsympathetic to the situation or others involved, or letting a negative emotion waste my time (of which there is little of). It can’t remove those nasty feelings altogether, but I find myself engaging in arguments and debates less and less, and making more of an effort to understand and calmly explain more and more. In saying that, it’s shown me that there’s no reason to dread life’s speed. It’s a sad, but inevitable reality. We are animals, and like how animals sleep, shit, procreate, and eat, they too will die and there’s no reason to be offended at our inevitable end. We humans are fortunate enough to be aware of each moment, and more and more I find it hard to get too upset about how fast life goes. It’s an awful cliche - but the point truly is to appreciate each moment as much as you can, as the speed of life isn’t going to make it worth anything else. Writing about this film and others is something I genuinely love doing whether anyone reads it or not. It’s an activity that makes life pleasurable. Released in the early 90s, City Slickers is about a 38 year old radio ad salesman Mitch Robbins (Billy Crystal) who takes extreme adventure vacations with his best friends - the unhappily married grocery store manager Phil Berquist (Daniel Stern) and the rolling stone sports equipment store owner Ed Furillo (Bruno Kirby). We open up on their trip to Spain where the three have decided to run with the bulls, with Mitch getting a horn in the ass and vowing to give up on the adventures. He returns to New York with his wife Barbara (Patricia Wettig) and kids and on the day of his 39th birthday, he wakes up depressed. Forty is around the corner and he feels unfulfilled. Last time I saw this was when I was twenty or so, and the ideas seemed so distant. Now, I’m nearly six years from this age, and knowing that’s only one college and the first two years I was in LA, before I was even with my fiance, I know it’ll be here before I know it, which means I’ll be forty in no time at all. Mitch arrives at the office to find out his boss is unhappy with his work and wants to have more oversight for the time being. Later, Mitch gives a disastrous career presentation to his son’s class (one of Jake Gyllenhaal’s earliest roles), giving a fantastic monologue about aging (see the link). He returns home to the birthday party, where his two best friends hang out - Ed with his latest mid-twenties conquest, and Phil who fakes being asleep so his wife won’t bother him. Things are at ease, and Ed reveals their next journey to a cattle drive in New Mexico. All points aside about where these people get this much consecutive time off, Mitch is apprehensive, saying he was going to visit Barbara’s parents in Florida for the next vacation. A twenty year old cashier then comes storming inside the apartment to tell Phil that she’s late. His wife yells and Phil finally snaps, unleashing all he’s been holding inside for years, immediately realizing that he’s both lost his job and marriage, and with two kids to feed, isn’t sure what he’s going to do. The party clears out and Phil’s episode triggers Mitch, who flips back to depression, telling Barbara how he’s felt like he’s lost that something; which I can’t describe anymore than that empty/bored feeling you get when a job becomes routine. Although they have plans to go to Florida with Barbara’s family, she says she wants him to go on the trip; that he’s not asking, but telling him that he needs to go on the trip in order to find himself, and in a bit of heavy turn, suggests that they might have to think about a separation if he can’t. They all agree and head to New Mexico, where we meet the other participants of their cattle drive - a Ben & Jerry’s inspired brother duo Barry (Josh Mostel) and Ira Shalowitz (David Paymer); a father and son Dr. Ben (Bill Henderson) and Dr. Steve Jessup (Phill Lewis; the film’s only black characters); an attractive single woman Bonnie Rayburn (Helen Slater; the main story’s only woman); and of course, the Oscar winning role of Curly (Jack Palance; who for those who don’t know or remember, did a one armed push up upon accepting his award). Continue to Part 2... BELOW: One of my favorite monologues Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  It's actually pretty creepy when you think about it Director: Nora Ephron Writer: Nora Ephron & Delia Ephron; based on Parfumerie by Miklós László Cinematographer: John Lindley Producer: Nora Ephron and Lauren Shuler Donner by Jon Cvack After watching Jerry MaGuire (1996), I was left wanting to return to another rom-com that I liked but didn’t necessarily love; hoping that it’s age might open up new insights. I had last seen You’ve Got Mail maybe five or six years ago; back when the technologies were not yet vintage quality, but rather embarrassing early social media devices; in this case America Online (aka AOL) and its 90s classic “You’ve Got Mail” greeting (should be lucky enough), that for just a smidge in modern times, truly meant you had a piece of electronic mail from an actual person. You’ve Got Mail is the weakest in Nora Ephron’s rom com trio (more in the sense of a fantastic DVD three pack offered at Target than official trio); the other two being Sleepless in Seattle (1993) and When Harry Met Sally (1989), both the best romantic comedy of their respective decades. I’ve seen You’ve Got Mail at least half a dozen times, discovering a great overall premise that never seemed to reach the emotional rigor of its brethren. When Harry Met Sally is about growing up in search of love, slowing building a relationship from friendship into love, and Sleepless in Seattle is about the heartbreak and magic of rediscovering love. You’ve Got Mail opens up with what now looks like a deliberately awful 3D animation of New York City, in which the buildings and cars are nothing more than block shaped, single colored elements that look like the most fundamental level of what a professional animation would one day become and probably cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to create; ending on a brownstone which then fades into actual footage as the camera raises up and through the window where we see Kathleen Kelly (Meg Ryan) interact with her left wing political and partner Frank Navasky (Greg Kinnear). The moment he leaves, Kathleen opens her laptop, logs on, has to wait for the dial tone and connection, and gets online to discover she’s got mail from NYC155, a person she met in an over 30 chat room. I believe it was 2018’s Hollywood Round Table that Tom Hanks mentioned how, should he be able to choose a different career, he’d like to be the guy who writes the daily ‘Around the Town’ column which, I assume, would offer daily observations on life; something a more sober version of Californication. It’s knowing this fact that I appreciated his character as Joe Fox; a rich and successful heir to Fox Books; ostensibly functioning as a Borders Bookstore (more on this later), whose father Nelson Fox (Dabney Coleman) cares for nothing beyond the profit and putting all the neighborhood bookstores out of business to suck up their customers; now onto his third or fourth wife and having a boy who’s five; while Joe’s grandfather also got married to a younger woman and had a daughter who’s about ten and therefore are now Joe’s aunt and uncle. Kathleen works at The Shop Around the Corner (an allusion to the original 1940 film), which specializes in young adult and children’s books, along with providing readings and classes. She’s joined by three co-workers, the flamboyant neighborhood legend Birdie Conrad (Jean Stapleton), the bitter academic and possible dropout or graduate student George Pappas (Steve Zahn), and the neurotic Christina Plutzker (Heather Burns); all who vow to help her preserve the shop; all created and performed with some distinct personalities that draw you into each scene; such as when Kathleen telling Christina about her online relationship evolves to cyber sex and Birdie’s perfectly timed entrance. Kathleen and Joe have never met each other, but for any person coming of age with the nascent internet, crushing on someone where most of the relationship is based on email or instant messaging, you understand the attraction. It’s their wit and view of the world that links them together; not to mention the subtle fact of meeting each other in an over 30 chatroom (even though Joe is over 40). Before learning who the other person is Joe meets Kathleen at her bookstore, refusing to introduce himself but rather coming across as a charming man with his two kids, later meeting her at a party where she discovers he’s Joe Fox. We soon discover that he’s actually a fairly aggressive businessman, capable of veering between heartless capitalism and the virtues of art and literature. Amidst the chaos, Kathleen attempts to meet to her online crush, and Joe, walking up with his business manager Kevin Jackson (Dave Chappelle), discover it’s Kathleen; pissed that the person he had such strong feelings for was the person who had the gaul to complain that he was putting her out of business. Nevertheless, he enters the coffee shop, pretending like he doesn’t know what’s going on, sits down, and in a dagger of an interaction, Kathleen tells him to please go; heartbroken and frustrated, she’s waiting for someone and doesn’t want to talk to him. He then finds another table and leaves her alone for a couple seconds before turning around again and engaging. So begins an interesting, but fairly creepy game; in which Joe-online creates an excuse to explain to Kathleen via email that he’s in the middle of a project, while Joe-in real life attempts to woo Kathleen, although his bookstore is rapidly putting her out of business; culminating in the store getting shut down. Throughout this, Joe maintains his relationship with the grating book editor Patricia Eden (Parker Posey), whose every word is like glass under your nails; leading to the two breaking up shortly after Kathleen’s shop goes out of business. Meanwhile, Kathleen’s relationship to Frank is rocky from the get go, and yet I had completely failed to see how masterful Greg Kinnear is in the role; playing the self-absorbed liberal newsman on an alleged moral crusade, craving fame and attention more than any meaningful relationship or mission. I’ve lately been wondering about how someone becomes a pundit on MSNBC, Fox News, etc, and the Ephrons do a masterful job of showing us someone in the nascent stages of that journey. Soon Frank and Kathleen part ways in one of the most memorable and lovely break up scenes ever shot. It leaves Kathleen alone, with a possible offer from Patricia to edit some children’s books. So begins the third act as Frank soon visits her while she’s sick, apologizing once again for putting her out of business. The two start hanging out more regularly while Kathleen keeps talking to Fox-online. She soon tells Frank-reality about the relationship, and while Tom Hanks does a great job playing the friend-zoned crush, it’s obviously bizarre that he’s attempting to woo her from himself; which seems like a game that could only possibly give him pleasure, as I’m sure anyone - such as his friend Kevin - would disapprove. Frank-online then hits her up to meet once again and she agrees, meeting Frank-reality first who ends their meeting by saying that he wishes things could have been different. Kathleen gets ready and heads off to central park where Frank-online shows up and Kathleen gets teared up, saying she was hoping it’d be Frank-reality; which is kind of sad because it means that her feelings to Frank-online had faded, leaving you to wonder if Frank-reality deliberately changed that persona. And that’s where the overall message of the film gets a bit odd. Ultimately, it’s about a woman who falls for a greedy man who puts her multi-generation family bookstore out of business; all because he’s charming, which could arguably be a type of sociopathy. Think of Michael Douglas, Richard Gere, or even James Gandolfini in this role, and how weird the conclusion would be. What makes it work is Tom Hanks, and Tom Hanks alone, who’s regarded as the nicest celebrity in the world. Aside from that strange last act, the movie remains a deeply prescient film; one that we’re able to look back on as a harbinger of things to come. American Online was the first social media site that most people were addicted to. The evolution was similar to Facebook. Parents were at first resistant, and then later succumbed and became all the more consumed. They were the first to share Fake News via chain mail. I recall when a letter from my crazy uncle would be just one long message with 48 pt bold red font ranting about immigrants or Obama. To think Facebook is what exists just twenty years later leaves me wondering how much we’ll look back at 2020 and its state of technology with similar degrees of condescension. More and more, I enjoy films that serve as both historical documents and a document of history, as I discussed in Triumph of the Will (1935), which isn’t to compare the two, though they are serving similar purposes. When talking about Fox Books, a friend was quick to compare them to Amazon; forgetting that the threat at the time wasn’t Amazon, but Borders and Barnes & Noble; both of which failed to grasp the threat of Amazon’s business model. Similar to Blockbuster’s failure to anticipate Netflix, soon the large chain bookstores would die. It actually seems to revive the cynical ending as Joe Fox would one day too experience his store being closed by a much more powerful competitor. Doesn’t make him any less of a sociopath. BELOW: As weird as the scene is, a beautiful moment between two Ephron legends Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Not sure what Jerry learned in the end Director: Cameron Crowe Writer: Cameron Crowe Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Cameron Crowe, James L. Brooks, Laurence Mark, and Richard Sakai by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... This is one of those movies I’ve seen more times than I can remember, though I haven’t seen it in probably nearly six to eight years, providing one of the most significant evolutions in cinema I’ve had; in which a movie that I always enjoyed but never found great, suddenly shifted into a masterpiece. I never completely understood what it was about, providing the bizarre experience where previously Tom Cruise was so much older in all previous viewings; working a world that seemed exciting regardless of the problems. I’m now his character’s age and better able to grasp all his professional and personal struggles. Jerry MaGuire is a Ivy League law school grad and successful sports agent at one of the industry’s top firms, mentored by one of the industry’s greats, Dicky Fox (Jared Jussim) who provides countless motivational, one-line aphorisms that are delivered so well that I always it was real guy playing himself. In a fast and brilliant opening, we see that Jerry MaGuire has grown disillusioned by the agency business and his company SMI, in particular; in which the to take on as many clients as possible to maintain leverage in contract and brand deal negotiations has caused a disconnect between the agent and the athlete. One of his clients, a football player, has had his seventh concussion of the year. The player’s kid asks what MaGuire is going to do about it. MaGuire offers a patronizing response while checking his beeper, and the kid tosses an F bomb in response. MaGuire has a mental breakdown later that night, shivering in a hotel room, feeling as though his life contains zero purpose beyond making money. Amidst the despair, he writes a “Mission Statement” throughout the night, declaring that the firm should take less clients and maintain more personal relationships. The next day, Jerry leaves the mission statement to each of his colleagues who offer him a round of applause as he enters the lobby, with Jerry’s protege Bob Sugar (Jay Mohr) telling the dad from Grounded for Life, Rick (Donal Logue), that Jerry won’t last more than a day. We also Renée Zellweger) as she watches the hosanna. We follow Dorothy onto the plane where we’re introduced to 90 cinema’s favorite toddler Ray (Jonathan Lipnicki) as they fly in coach, ogling at first class. Dorothy eavesdrops as Jerry recounts the story of his recent marriage proposal to the attractive and flirty woman next to him until the stewardess closes the curtains and shutting Dorothy out. At the baggage claim, Dorothy has lost her son. Jerry MaGuire hears her desperation and offers to help, finding Ray riding on the baggage claim. Dorothy thanks him and mentions how she loved Jerry’s memo. It’s here that we receive the first taste of Jerry’s character. Both in that he doesn’t recognize Dorothy, even though it’s a small office, and that he proceeds to talk about himself, specifically his mission statement (correcting that it’s not a “memo”); never asking anything about her or her kid. The next day back in LA, Bob Sugar takes Jerry out to lunch and fires him, knowing the crowded restaurant would prevent Jerry from overreacting. They return to the office and Jerry rushes to call his clients and retain as many as possible, including the NFL draft all star Frank “Cush” Cushman (Jerry O'Connell; in his best role next to Stand by Me (1986)). One by one, they reject him, mostly on account of the brand deals and leverage SMI has; demonstrating that their motivations are no different than the agent’s. The athletes want the best agents to get the most money possible, and SMI wants as many clients for the same purpose. Jerry gets his hotdogging and mediocre NFL receiver Rod Tidwell (Cuba Gooding Jr.) on the phone, who with brilliant direction from Camera Crowe, we see living in a decent sized house which is covered in ants and his cheap brand deal bunting scattered across the walls. Rod believes he’s worth more, frustrated in failing to receive any of the deals that his teammates receive; refusing to see that his arrogance and greed combined with subpar ability are what’s preventing the money from rolling in. The conversation takes far longer than Jerry can afford and he watches as each of his clients hop off the phone; all except for Cush and his father who fail to give a definitive answer. Jerry leaves and we see why Bob Sugar took him to the restaurant, as Cruise enters into one of the film’s most famous and cringey scenes as he orders his assistant to pack up her things and head out with him. He’s going to start his own agency. She says she’s months away from getting benefits and can’t afford it, and Jerry asks if anyone else will join him. After a long and awkward pause, Dorothy agrees, packs up her belongings and joins him. He flies to meet Cush and his family whose father says they’re going to stay with Jerry. Knowing it’s his golden ticket to future success and disregarding Ro as a result, they all arrive at the NFL draft where Jerry fawns over Cush while leaving Rod high and dry. Rod is fully aware of the play, both jealous and infuriated that his agent refuses to give him any personal attention, even though he’s now only one of two clients. I had failed years ago to grasp the blatant hypocrisy on Jerry’s part; who although pouring his passion into a mission statement for less clients and more personal attention, he abandons Rod in favor of the golden boy almost immediately. That is, until Jerry is moments from locking down the deal, heads to Cush’s hotel room, and in an incredible scene, has their meeting interrupted by a phone call which Jerry answers, doing his best Cush impression to hear Bob Sugar on the phone explaining that he’s closed the deal with San Diego. The best line from the scene that I always remembered but had failed to grasp is Cush’s reaction when the father breaks the news. “I just want to play football,” he says, as though the money and leverage Sugar offered had no impact on his decision; when, in fact, it clearly was the number one reason they went with him. Kush doesn't “...just want to play football”; he wants as much money as possible no matter who he has to betray; providing Jerry a grim dose of reality and how the two way street of respect requires both to move in the same direction. Jerry’s super hot girlfriend dumps him upon learning the news; failing to want to be involved with a loser and punching him out as a send off. Prior, at his Bachelor’s Party, someone had recorded interviews with a bunch of his past girlfriends who all shared the same observation that Jerry could not be alone. Most of us know the sort; a person who can break up a long term relationship and just weeks later enter into the next one. While never explicitly connected, it’s clear that this is another example of his self-centered and self-righteousness; using others in order to make himself feel better. The story cuts to Dorothy who lives with her sister Laurel Boyd (Bonnie Hunt), a recent divorcee in her late 30s who hosts a group of other divorced women at her house in order to talk out their problems. Similar to when I first saw the film, I noticed how real all of these supporting characters felt; ranging in age from young to too old, in various states of emotion. BELOW: Layers upon layers Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Show Me Director: Cameron Crowe Writer: Cameron Crowe Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Cameron Crowe, James L. Brooks, Laurence Mark, and Richard Sakai by Jon Cvack This is one of those movies I’ve seen more times than I can remember, though I haven’t seen it in probably nearly six to eight years, providing one of the most significant evolutions in cinema I’ve had; in which a movie that I always enjoyed but never found great, suddenly shifted into a masterpiece. I never completely understood what it was about, providing the bizarre experience where previously Tom Cruise was so much older in all previous viewings; working a world that seemed exciting regardless of the problems. I’m now his character’s age and better able to grasp all his professional and personal struggles. Jerry MaGuire is a Ivy League law school grad and successful sports agent at one of the industry’s top firms, mentored by one of the industry’s greats, Dicky Fox (Jared Jussim) who provides countless motivational, one-line aphorisms that are delivered so well that I always it was real guy playing himself. In a fast and brilliant opening, we see that Jerry MaGuire has grown disillusioned by the agency business and his company SMI, in particular; in which the to take on as many clients as possible to maintain leverage in contract and brand deal negotiations has caused a disconnect between the agent and the athlete. One of his clients, a football player, has had his seventh concussion of the year. The player’s kid asks what MaGuire is going to do about it. MaGuire offers a patronizing response while checking his beeper, and the kid tosses an F bomb in response. MaGuire has a mental breakdown later that night, shivering in a hotel room, feeling as though his life contains zero purpose beyond making money. Amidst the despair, he writes a “Mission Statement” throughout the night, declaring that the firm should take less clients and maintain more personal relationships. The next day, Jerry leaves the mission statement to each of his colleagues who offer him a round of applause as he enters the lobby, with Jerry’s protege Bob Sugar (Jay Mohr) telling the dad from Grounded for Life, Rick (Donal Logue), that Jerry won’t last more than a day. We also Renée Zellweger) as she watches the hosanna. We follow Dorothy onto the plane where we’re introduced to 90 cinema’s favorite toddler Ray (Jonathan Lipnicki) as they fly in coach, ogling at first class. Dorothy eavesdrops as Jerry recounts the story of his recent marriage proposal to the attractive and flirty woman next to him until the stewardess closes the curtains and shutting Dorothy out. At the baggage claim, Dorothy has lost her son. Jerry MaGuire hears her desperation and offers to help, finding Ray riding on the baggage claim. Dorothy thanks him and mentions how she loved Jerry’s memo. It’s here that we receive the first taste of Jerry’s character. Both in that he doesn’t recognize Dorothy, even though it’s a small office, and that he proceeds to talk about himself, specifically his mission statement (correcting that it’s not a “memo”); never asking anything about her or her kid. The next day back in LA, Bob Sugar takes Jerry out to lunch and fires him, knowing the crowded restaurant would prevent Jerry from overreacting. They return to the office and Jerry rushes to call his clients and retain as many as possible, including the NFL draft all star Frank “Cush” Cushman (Jerry O'Connell; in his best role next to Stand by Me (1986)). One by one, they reject him, mostly on account of the brand deals and leverage SMI has; demonstrating that their motivations are no different than the agent’s. The athletes want the best agents to get the most money possible, and SMI wants as many clients for the same purpose. Jerry gets his hotdogging and mediocre NFL receiver Rod Tidwell (Cuba Gooding Jr.) on the phone, who with brilliant direction from Camera Crowe, we see living in a decent sized house which is covered in ants and his cheap brand deal bunting scattered across the walls. Rod believes he’s worth more, frustrated in failing to receive any of the deals that his teammates receive; refusing to see that his arrogance and greed combined with subpar ability are what’s preventing the money from rolling in. The conversation takes far longer than Jerry can afford and he watches as each of his clients hop off the phone; all except for Cush and his father who fail to give a definitive answer. Jerry leaves and we see why Bob Sugar took him to the restaurant, as Cruise enters into one of the film’s most famous and cringey scenes as he orders his assistant to pack up her things and head out with him. He’s going to start his own agency. She says she’s months away from getting benefits and can’t afford it, and Jerry asks if anyone else will join him. After a long and awkward pause, Dorothy agrees, packs up her belongings and joins him. He flies to meet Cush and his family whose father says they’re going to stay with Jerry. Knowing it’s his golden ticket to future success and disregarding Ro as a result, they all arrive at the NFL draft where Jerry fawns over Cush while leaving Rod high and dry. Rod is fully aware of the play, both jealous and infuriated that his agent refuses to give him any personal attention, even though he’s now only one of two clients. I had failed years ago to grasp the blatant hypocrisy on Jerry’s part; who although pouring his passion into a mission statement for less clients and more personal attention, he abandons Rod in favor of the golden boy almost immediately. That is, until Jerry is moments from locking down the deal, heads to Cush’s hotel room, and in an incredible scene, has their meeting interrupted by a phone call which Jerry answers, doing his best Cush impression to hear Bob Sugar on the phone explaining that he’s closed the deal with San Diego. The best line from the scene that I always remembered but had failed to grasp is Cush’s reaction when the father breaks the news. “I just want to play football,” he says, as though the money and leverage Sugar offered had no impact on his decision; when, in fact, it clearly was the number one reason they went with him. Kush doesn't “...just want to play football”; he wants as much money as possible no matter who he has to betray; providing Jerry a grim dose of reality and how the two way street of respect requires both to move in the same direction. Jerry’s super hot girlfriend dumps him upon learning the news; failing to want to be involved with a loser and punching him out as a send off. Prior, at his Bachelor’s Party, someone had recorded interviews with a bunch of his past girlfriends who all shared the same observation that Jerry could not be alone. Most of us know the sort; a person who can break up a long term relationship and just weeks later enter into the next one. While never explicitly connected, it’s clear that this is another example of his self-centered and self-righteousness; using others in order to make himself feel better. The story cuts to Dorothy who lives with her sister Laurel Boyd (Bonnie Hunt), a recent divorcee in her late 30s who hosts a group of other divorced women at her house in order to talk out their problems. Similar to when I first saw the film, I noticed how real all of these supporting characters felt; ranging in age from young to too old, in various states of emotion. Continue to Part 2... BELOW: Layers upon layers Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Oh those colors Director: Krzysztof Kieślowski Writer: Krzysztof Kieślowski and Krzysztof Piesiewicz Cinematographer: Sławomir Idziak Producer: Leonardo De La Fuente by Jon Cvack Having completed The Double Life of Veronique a little under two weeks ago, I’m realizing how few details I remember from the story, as the images are so powerful that you begin to forget the narrative; offering the strange experience where you’re mindful of each moment’s beauty and brilliance and at times you forget to connect it to what happened prior. Kieślowski was a self-described pessimist, whose early death seemed an inevitable conclusion. As with his other films, I was left with a peculiar melancholy. It's a story about the smallest moments that provide meaning and satisfaction in our lives; from looking through a glass crystal ball and seeing the beautiful distortion of life and light to the way in which music allows us to momentarily transcend our dissatisfaction and frustration; all combining to provide meaning within the smallest moments. The story follows a young Polish woman Weronika (Irène Jacob) singing outdoors with a choir when a sudden downpour causes her fellow members to run for cover while Weronika holds the final note. She meets up with her boyfriend, Antek (Jerzy Gudejko), where the two head back to his apartment and have sex, providing one of many gorgeous lovemaking sequences I've ever seen. The next day she explains that she’s going to go and take care of her aunt in Kraków, taking a break from their relationship. While in Kraków, Weronika sings for a local choir, soon attracting the attention of the musical director and a conductor who offers her a chance to audition for their company. Afterward, she exits to the urban streets where a protest takes place against the government. When one of the demonstrators bumps into her and causes the sheet music to fall and scatter in the wind, Weronika looks up and sees what looks like her twin sister board a bus and drive away. Weronika gets the part, and during her opening performance, she pours everything she has into the performance before collapsing dead onto the stage. That same day, we cut to the alleged twin Veronique (also played by Irène Jacob) making love to her own boyfriend before suddenly struck by melancholy. The next day at a school where Veronique teaches music, she takes her class to a marionette play, providing another gorgeous and incredibly lifelike performance from the puppeteer while the music of Van den Budenmayer plays over; the same song that Weronika died singing. Veronique explains to her father that she’s begun to feel lonely, as though a person she loved had abandoned her life. The episode is intense enough to cause her to go and get an EKG to see if there might be a deeper illness; throughout which she begins receiving mysterious phone calls and a strange cassette tape containing sounds from a nearby train station where she finds the puppeteer. Her and the puppeteer enter into a strange, though passionate relationship. She later discovers that he is working on a new book about a woman who has an identical, though unrelated twin out in the world, of which she shares a deep connection. The closing image is her arriving at a farmhouse, touching an olive tree, to which her father inside appears to respond. It’s a fantastical narrative that so easily could have fallen under the weight of illogic; saved by the absolutely beautiful images captured in nearly each and every scene. My girlfriend came into the room ten minutes into the film, waiting for her friend to get ready. Knowing nothing about the story, she was fully hooked in within seconds, to which when her friend was ready to go she said she wanted to stay back to watch. Like the story, to list the images out seems grossly insufficient; where like a similar song or piece of art, you can’t describe the feeling it provides other than to experience them. It's a story that demands repeated viewings to better piece together the subtle details. At one point Veronique says, “All my life I've felt like I was here and somewhere else at the same time”; and I think most of us do the same. We see either the ideal self and what we could be fully capable of and the life it’d provide (as though a singer) and are drawn back into the reality of where we actually are (such as a music teacher). Given Kieślowski’s pessimistic philosophy, I’m left wondering if this film reflects the polarity; between the hope, joy, and purpose that creating art provides versus a world that mostly doesn’t care. In an interview, he said that in America he was amazed by “the pursuit of empty talk combined with a very high degree of self-satisfaction.” Out here in LA, it often seems more people are interested in the prestige or riches gained from making art than about exploring any particular ideas. The Double life of Veronique portrays these dualities - reality versus imagined, hope versus despair, success versus failure, love versus hate; showing the dangers of falling too far into either category, rather than accepting a little bit of both and welcoming the inevitable melancholy. BELOW: Now imagine this on BluRay and full sound; let alone the theater Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Prescient Red Hats Director: Tony Scott Writer: Michael Schiffer and Quentin Tarantino (uncredited); story by Michael Schiffer and Richard P. Henrick Cinematographer: Dariusz Wolski Producer: Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer by Jon Cvack I was certain that I had written on this movie, prepared to offer a “Second Viewing” take, only to discover that I must have confused this movie with its twin, The Hunt for Red October (1990). I’ve seen the film twice prior, far later in life than I should have, serving as one of the few twin films which is every bit as competitive as its sibling. Crimson Tide is perhaps the perfect metaphor for our state of politics; displaying the tribal politics we’re experiencing all the way down to the red hat. After Russian rebels capture a nuclear facility, intent on using the weapons should either the American or Russian government provoke him, the Americans launch a fleet of nuclear submarines, led by the USS Alabama, commanded by Captain Frank Ramsey (Gene Hackman). Having recently lost his Commanding Officer (XO), he recruits the help of Anapolis and Harvard grad Commander Ron Hunter (Denzel Washington). From the get go, we see the power struggle between the men. Ramsey comes from the old school, believing that success comes from doing the job as given to you rather than sycophancy; relying more on his intuition from this experience than any grand theories. He resents Ramsey’s education, believing it expedited his success and that relying too heavily on analytics endangers the mission. Nevertheless, with only a “short list” of possibilities, he takes Ramsey on. Ramsey’s best friend is Weapons Officer Lieutenant Peter Ince (Viggo Mortensen) who’s in control of the missile system; joined by a band of other Lieutenants, including James Gandolfini as Supplies Officer Robert Dorsey. It was on this viewing - and likely because of the ongoing debate about race in America - that I noticed Dorsey’s first action in ordering a black private to answer a bit of obscure submarine movie trivia, which the private clearly has no clue about, then forcing him to do push ups in the middle of the bus as punishment In traditional Tony Scott fashion, we get a grand set piece of the rain pouring down as the men fall into formation before boarding the submarine beyond, next to a ship where welding sparks fly down like a waterfall. Ramsey heads to a microphone and provides an inspirational speech, explaining how urgent their mission is. Once aboard, we’re immersed into the labyrinthian and claustrophobic corridors, washed with bold blues and reds and an omnipresent haze. The officers assemble in the meal hall, and Ramsey and Hunter engage in their first debate; in this case about the ethics of using nuclear weapons. They debate Carl von Clausewitz’s famous declaration that, “War is politics by other means.” Hunter believes that it is simply an extension of what politicians cannot resolve while Ramsey believes it was speaking to the fact that war is rarely the appropriate choice; and in an age of nuclear war, there is never an appropriate occasion to use them. After a freak fire bursts out in the kitchen, Ramsey races to help put it out. Moments later, and with one of the men fatally injured, Hunter carries out a launch exercise; during which the injured sailor dies. Ramsey questions whether the exercise was appropriate, to which Hunter says it was the perfect time for the exercise, offering the film’s second great debate for an after viewing drink. On the one hand, Ramsey is right that they should have taken care of the man first before doing an exercise, while Hunter makes a good point in that the men should be prepared at all possible moments, even when inopportune. Later, they receive an Emergency Action Message, ordering them to launch ten nuclear missiles. With a Russian submarine spotted and approaching their position, they dive, receiving another message that gets cut off when they lose radio signal. Ramsey believes it might be a retraction to the order, but Hunter doesn’t buy it; ordering his men to commence the launch. At the time, to launch a nuclear weapon required the approval of both the Captain and Commanding Officer. In front of the men, Ramsey refuses to acquiesce. Hunter attempts to have him detained and replaced with someone who will carry out the orders (remind you of anyone?), but Ramsey cites Naval Law, flipping the detainment order to Hunter’s friend and Chief of the Boat (George Dzundza) who takes Hunter in, simply for the sake of preserving order. So begins a thrilling second act as Ramsey commands the ship, trying to take out the Russian sub, and attempts to repair the radio. The tribal politics rule as a mixture of racism and camaraderie cause the men to pick sides; complicated when Ramsey’s friend Peter decides to work with the mutiny. In the end, while Hunter and Ramsey and their respective factions stand at arms against each other, and the radio is repaired and we wait for the message to come in, Hunter goes full racist, asking Ramsey about his equestrian hobby and how a particular Portugal horse - the best in the world - is an entirely “white breed”; to which Ramsey replies that he’s actually wrong and that the horses are black. The message comes in, saying the Russian Rebels have been taken out and they should abort the launch. Later, as both men stand before a tribunal, we learn that Hunter has both retired and requested that Ramsey be given control of his own ship. Hunter’s red hat was a particularly interesting element in today’s political landscape. While politics are never mentioned, it’s clear where both Ramsey and Hunter reside on the spectrum. We see that the crew is allegiant to their commander’s philosophy rather than to the logic of their actions. Some join Hunter because of his instinctual, mighty style, and preservation of racial structure; others join Ramsey because he shows compassion, deliberation, and an overall concern for the lives of men beyond the lust for power. What makes the story work so well is ensuring that Hunter is as comparably complex as Ramsey. While initially made out to be a might-makes-right Sea Captain, we discover that, although wrong in this case, most of his actions and theories do operate within at least some degree of reasonability. In the end, rather than being the villain we expect him to be, we see a man of honor who was willing to concede that he was wrong and able to accept defeat. If only Trump could give it a watch. BELOW: Great scene with Tarantino's flavor all over it Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Best cameo in film history Director: Paul Thomas Anderson Writer: Paul Thomas Anderson Cinematographer: Robert Elswit Producer: Robert Jones and John Lyons by Jon Cvack Each time I watch this movie it seems to take on a different feel, in which I forget most of the details, and yet remember some of the most powerful images - John C. Reilly outside the diner, the matchbook catching fire, the artful con Philip Baker Hall teaches, and of course, the greatest cameo of all time by Philip Seymour Hoffman. I was motivated to watch it after being introduced to The Director Series (which I recommend checking out, offering in depth video essays on various filmmakers), reminding me that this story was based on Anderson’s incredible short film Cigarettes and Coffee, made when Anderson was only 22 years old, getting him into the Sundance Labs where he developed “Sydney”, forcefully retitled “Hard Eight” (which to this day I find a better title, if anything for capturing PSH’s scene), made when PTA was only 25 years old. A year later the 26 year old filmmaker would go on to make what has become one of the greatest pieces of cinema of all time - Boogie Nights. In the history of cinema, only Orson Welles would be able to match the level of craft at such a young age. Coincidentally, Welles was the same age. When I watch a film like this I’m reminded of what independent cinema used to be, in which the return on home video sales was enough to take risks with new filmmakers, rather than hoping to navigate projects through the arduous festival circuit, hoping to get a distribution deal with even a modicum of marketing budget. A person like PTA could drop out of college, pour his tuition money into a film, and so long as it was good, could be approached to make a feature from there. Today anyone can make a film, and with that comes the issue that, unfortunately, there are just too many pretty good films to see, let alone good movies to see all while battling the golden age of episodic storytelling. When I watch the great 90s indie films I picture grimy theaters and video stores, going to Best Buy and hitting up the DVD sales and using the nascent internet to find the best films out there. Films like this make me picture the last remnants of old Hollywood; before television was serious, and before a single video existed on the internet. It was the peak American art form, hungry for new talent, back when single stars were strong enough to finance projects. Back when they were mysterious and more disconnected, developing personas which we only got to see through performance or the tabloids. Independent film is far from dead. I’d even go so far as to argue that what it accomplished has now become much of mainstream Hollywood. 80% of theater viewership is reserved for tentpole or blockbuster films (often franchises). When the option is to check out an obscure indie film for fifteen dollars a ticket, seeing a tentpole movie, or staying at home to watch some of the best television ever offered - it’s not too hard to see the first option is far from the top. When I watch a film like this, there’s a sexiness that makes me nostalgic. It embodies the effort to make a cool movie in a time when such a thing could still gain appreciation; if for nothing else than its ability to introduce a new storyteller - and by extension - a new way to see the world. Although I knew the history about it’s financiers demanding the name change from Sydney to Hard Eight, though in The Director Series, its said that the original cut is nearly two and a half hours; which while keeping that in mind, made me wonder how much different and better of a film it could have been. It opens up outside a diner where John (John C. Reilly) sits against the wall, dejected. A man named Sidney (Philip Baker Hall) enters the frame, offering to buy John a cup of coffee. They then enter into a scene based off the original short film “Cigarettes and Coffee”. John explains that he’s in need of $30,000 in order to bury his mother, making me wonder whether John was conning Sidney or serious. I’m uncertain of either. Sidney offers to give John $100 in if he comes back to Reno with him. The pair head back and John asks for a cigarette. Sydney only has matches and John rejects them, explaining a story about how he had a large box of matches in his pocket years ago while waiting in line which spontaneously erupted, giving him a second degree burn. They arrive in Vegas and Sydney teaches John a trick for recycling hundred dollars into reward points which soon get him a free hotel room and a meal. The seed money works, and we move forward a year. John and Sydney are still in town and two new characters are introduced: Cocktail Waitress (Gwyneth Paltrow) and hoodlum Jimmy (Samuel L. Jackson) who’s been getting closer to John, much to the suspicion of Sydney. Sydney finds another in need with Clementine, who’s caught with a John, taking her back to a diner in one of the film’s best scenes where he hears her story and what she does to survive. I’m sure there’s some contemporary criticism out there for having the one female character as a prostitute, but looking past all that, regardless of the position, Gwyneth Paltrow makes us feel the way Sydney acts. He invites her back to his room, offering his bed, wanting nothing in return. The next day he finds her with John and the two end up getting married within days. In the film’s longest scenem- shot entirely in a hotel room which goes on for about thirty minutes - John calls Sydney in the middle of the night and has him come to a motel where a man lies unconscious on the bed; blood oozing and splattered from his head. Clementine had slept with him and he refused to pay, so she bludgeoned him in the head and called John. Sydney vows to take care of the situation, urging John and Clementine to take a honeymoon in Niagara Falls while things cooled down. Returning to his car, Sydney meets Jimmy who informs him he knows how years back, Sydney killed John’s father, and unless he pays $10,000 he’s going to reveal the information. Sydney refuses, going on to kill Jimmy in one of the film’s best scenes. I once got stuck in Reno for three days and two nights after a flight got canceled; forced to explore the near absurdly small city further than I ever anticipated (there’s actually a riverwalk that leads to a great art district and some phenomenal parks). For the last eight years, my best dude friends and I all take a long weekend trip to Donner Lake, and for the last couple years, have tried to make it down to Reno at least once (it’s only 45 minutes away). I once believed the Chicago Shedd Aquarium had some of the best people watching. Reno is in a league of its own; feeling as though you’re time traveling back to a period that no longer exists. When you hear of the Old Vegas, Reno provides a taste of what that means. Hard Eight embodies the spirit. According to The Secret History of Paul Thomas Anderson, the filmmaker had worked in Reno for a summer or two before college; and it’s clear that he too saw the strange combination of mundanity, stasis, and charm. I’m not sure how to describe what Reno feels like, but when I watch Hard Eight before visiting I felt it, and watching it again having gone there nearly half a dozen times, there’s no better movie to capture its essence. It’s a film that demonstrates a young filmmaker figuring out his craft; and yet I have a feeling that the extended version might have been one of his best. Allegedly, according to IMDb, the man in the hotel room had worked with Jimmy, tracking Sydney and shooting him outside of the same diner he met John. It feels like something Anderson would have done, and seems a more fitting ending. With Malick announcing a five hour cut of Tree of Life (2011), I’m hoping that PTA will one day release his original piece. BELOW: Great series Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Director: Vincente Minnelli Writer: Albert Hackett, Frances Goodrich, Edward Streeter(characters) Cinematographer: John Alton Producer: Pandro S. Berman by Jon Cvack The Father of the Bride (1991) remake opens in close up on a glass of champagne, playing a vibrant wedding score while the credits role. Steve Martin is George Banks, sitting in a post party bomb crater, with streamers, balloons, food and drinks covering the place. He addresses the camera and recounts the story of how his daughter got engaged a year or so after college, and the expensive wedding he had to put on. Watching the intro to this day I get sucked in, knowing I’m going to see a fantasy world where the hardest problems the characters face would provide the greatest day to so many others, with Steve Martin pulling off the paranoid, cheap, mildly narcissistic father with a heart of gold without a hiccup, knocking each scene out of the park. I didn’t know that Father of the Bride was a remake until after college while going through director filmographies on Netflix. It was a good film, with Spencer Tracy as Stanley Banks, Joan Bennett as the mother Ellie Banks, and most interesting, Elizabeth Taylor as the newly engaged Kay (in that this isn’t necessarily the role you associate with Taylor). It’s a good film, with Spencer Tracy stealing the show, providing a strikingly similar tone as the Steve Martin’s remake. While it’s no surprise that the original black and white and far more tame original was overtaken by a Steve Martin and Diane Keaton remake, it is interesting that hardly anyone seems to even know the film is a remake, posing at least some precedent in defense of the endless remakes. Some are, in fact, better than the original. What’s more surprising is discovering that Father of the Bride Part 2 (1994) is also a remake, of the sequel to the original Father of the Bride called Father’s Little Dividend. Father of the Bride Part 2 is a solid sequel. Not as good as the first, but an enjoyable watch. Father’s Little Dividend is a pretty good movie, though unfortunately I received one of those Westinghouse discs that looks like the DVD was made by someone filming a YouTube video with a VHS camera; it was one of the shittiest discs I’ve ever watched. The film starts out similar to the Father of the Bride remake, with Stanley Banks in his chair, talking directly to camera about how within what seems like only months of the wedding, his daughter had gotten pregnant, thus entering into a flashback up to the moment where the previous film had just ended. The same cast is back, with Kay’s husband Buckley Dunstan (Don Taylor), and his parents Doris (Billie Burke) and Herbert (Moroni Olsen). The story follows both sets of parents and their attempt to dominate the conversation, from offering names to furnishing the bedroom to where he’d go to school, with Stanley leading a few heated debates, with Kay eventually exploding, turning to dad for help. Later, we get a scene actually seen in the first Father of the Bride, when Buckley and Kay get into a fight, and Buckley takes off in the middle of the night. Funny enough, in this film it’s about infidelity, and in the remake it’s about a blender, with her fiance Bryan MacKenzie recognizing why it’d be offensive given the modern discussion of gender stereotypes (or however he says it). Eventually the baby is due to arrive, and while there’s a great set up in having Stanley Banks having taken a sleeping pill after not sleeping in expectation of the baby arriving over the last few weeks, instead they just have him sleep through the night, waking up to the delivered baby, later losing the kid when deciding to play soccer with some boys. It’s a strange last twenty minutes, and at a hair under 80 minutes, the film never feels like a fully actualized piece. Allegedly the film was being shot before the first Father of the Bride was released; so confident studios were that they had a megahit on their hands. And that’s kind of what the problem is. Aside from the thread of a daughter and father there’s no feel of a carefully or meticulously crafted movie (or at least an attempt) as the first one offered. It was a rushed job, feeling as though they were trying to think of as many scenarios as possible to include between parents and children and in-laws, and while some of the scenes work well, most of them feel under delivered. It’s a good film that’s worth checking out for any Father of the Bride or Spencer Tracy fans. BELOW: Another example of a studio failing to renew the copyright so check out the film below Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page |
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