 Tragically underrated Director: Satyajit Ray Writer: Satyajit Ray Cinematographer: Subrata Mitra Producer: R. D. Banshal and Sharankumari Bansal by Jon Cvack Every time I arrive at a Satyajit Ray film, I’m expecting it to provide that traditional art house experience in which you find yourself saying it’s good, but will probably never watch it again and then it finishes and I’m blown away by the picture. Similar to Ramin Bahrani, the plots often sound so simple, in this case a movie star on a long train ride interviews an attractive journalist, recounting his rise to fame while surrounded by a unique and thrilling supporting cast, including a slimy Bollywood producer; a frail young girl with tuberculosis who shares the train compartment with the movie star; and the journalist’s colleagues who’re hungry for the juicy details. The first films that come to mind is 8 ½ (1963) and Stardust Memories (1980); both which examine the artist’s personal struggle with success. The further along I get in my career, the more I’m in awe that anyone my age could achieve vast success with storytelling as it remains such an elusive and seeming impossible feat, leaving me to wonder how success would affect my ego; whether I’d further isolate myself, forever fearful of the impostor syndrome, or attempt to navigate the upper echelons in order to see how much further the career could go. Actors have an additional complication in that the very nature of their pursuit is a desire for the audience and their praise and/or the unwavering desire to imagine and play (perhaps similar to writers). Screen star Arindam Mukherjee (Uttam Kumar) is invited to Delhi to accept a prestigious award for his achievements in acting, but with all flights booked, he is forced to take the train. There he meets a young and attractive journalist Aditi Sengupta (Sharmila Tagore) who conjoles him into an interview where Arindam opens up about his rise, insecurity, and personal corruption. Arindom’s career began by ignoring his mentor’s caution against entering into film acting in which the performer is forced to abandon the very connection they form with the audience. The theater allows the performer to embody the role rather than shooting it in fragments. Arindom arrives on his first to big film set to find his idol and one of Bollywood’s finest actors excoriate his performance in front of the entire cast and crew; castigating him for delivering the lines improperly and forcing Arindom to question his decision to enter film. Soon the Bollywood star’s career dries up and he becomes an alcoholic, leaving him broke, alone, and depressed. Meanwhile, Arindom has increasingly turned to drugs, alcohol, and women as the fame increasingly smothers him. Throughout the few days' train ride, he has nightmares, including one dream with an incredible set piece in which Arindom wanders around giant hills of cash money, soon chased by hands that reach up to grab him. Throughout the story, Ray provides us with one of the more memorable insights into fame and its corrupting potential. If one is alone on the way up, there are few to turn to and trust; everyone has a project or need, the pressure mounts, the temptation to take uninspired, well paid roles expands, and soon the fulfillment that art provided evaporates; in which the performer serves as nothing more than product. Nayak is another film that demonstrates the inherent bigotry of western cinema and its history. Recently, I read Edward Said’s The Question of Palestine (1979), where Said discusses the long history of how westerners regard all things eastern - whether culture, politics, or religion - as inferior; creating a blatantly racist outlook, or at best, an indifference or apathy. Compared to his predominantly white peers, aside from the Apu trilogy, Satyajit Ray’s work has received little attention; reserved for the most obscure of cinephile lists. I was particularly to have never heard of this film, given how many “movies about movies” I’ve come across. It’s a story up there with the best of them in providing an honest portrait about the industry; not speaking in esoteric terms, but allowing the viewer to observe the performance from either side, whether as Arindom’s and the bitterness he’s developed or the curiosity of an outsider like Aditi. Somehow avoiding sentimentality, we believe that Arindom could’ve been happier with more modest life with Aditi, and he gets off the train; in a brilliant shot, as the fans gather at the stop, pounding on the glass while Arindom continues their conversation, to later get off, back into a world completely devoid of anonymity, surrounded by people who want little beyond a chance to say they met or talked to someone famous; no matter whether it was him or his old washed up colleague from yesteryear. BELOW: A fantastic dream sequence 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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 Dynamic aside, it's got two stellar performances Director: Peter Farrelly Writer: Nick Vallelonga, Brian Hayes Currie, and Peter Farrelly Cinematographer: Sean Porter Producer: Jim Burke, Brian Hayes Currie, Peter Farrelly, Nick Vallelonga, and Charles B. Wessler by Jon Cvack NOTE: This was written before the Best Picture backlash, immediately after seeing the film The formula was simple - a well mannered upper class and well educated black pianist is driven around by a foul lower class white man. From the preview alone I think most people would anticipate the entire arc of the story; the pair will be offended by the other and then reconcile into a deep and lasting friendship. The black man will see past the white man’s crass and racist behavior and the white man will see past skin color. A friend of mine on Facebook said it best in that it’s a not so subtle shout out to the last two presidents. And yet, that kind of seems the point. The movie I first recalled after watching this was Corrina, Corrina (1994) starring Ray Liotta as a recently widowed man whose wife died from cancer; hiring Whoopi Goldberg to help take care of his mute tween daughter Corrina while also helping out with the house. Liotta is an atheist, soft spoken, and fairly bitter man who writes radio jingles, while Goldberg is a rambunctious Catholic who had always dreamed of writing the record notes on the backs of albums. Soon Corrinna is introduced to her black culture while her and Liotta start to fall in love; seeing past each other’s differences. I don’t recall how many times I’ve watched this movie growing up. If pressed, I’d say maybe a dozen. I’m not sure why I always liked putting or keeping it on; providing that weird reflection, where though I was too young to understand craft or understand the racial dynamic, I was attracted to the film as though there were things to discover and experience. Green Book presents a similar story; though instead of love it’s focuses on friendship. It follows a bouncer Frank “Tony Lip” Vallelonga (Viggo Mortensen) who works at the Copacabana nightclub; showing off his strength after a couple of patrons try to fight and refuse to be kicked out. However, when the club’s forced to shut down for renovations, Frank is now out of work for the next three months, possibly up through Christmas. His fellow night club crew flirts the line with organized crime, though while the offer rolls in to run a few of their errands for a nice paycheck, he opts out for some honest work; taking an interview with a successful pianist “Doc” Don Shirley (Mahershala Ali). The pair interview one another, and we learn that Doc is planning a Southern tour where he’ll need an ostensible bodyguard to protect Doc against any potential problems; that is, violent racists. While Frank’s willing to drive Doc around, he refuses to be a “butler” and iron shirts or polish shoes. Doc refuses to offer the gig, only later calling him when it’s clear that few others have what it takes for the position. The pair hit the road with two other band members and Frank is handed what was once called a “Green Book”; a traveling guide “for the Negro tourist” who’re doomed to arrive in towns still practicing segregation. They ease down into the South, beginning in New York City, down to Baltimore, across through the Midwest and then make their way down to Alabama; each destination getting progressively more racist as the trip goes on. What begins as the white hosts cooking Doc fried chicken and collard greens turns to refusing to let him use the in-house bathroom. The extravagant and expensive hotels which accept him up in the Northeast fade into begrimed flea dens. The friendly acceptance of white people devolves into the bitter and violent hate the deep South feels for black people, leaving you to increasingly wonder what exactly Doc made his way down there for. The most important aspect for any character foil is proper personality. Doc and Frank oppose each other, but Mortenson’s Frank far outshines Ali’s Doc; as while the film returns to a classic formula, it also falls victim to structural benevolent bigotry. Doc is at times an insufferable prig, and while we later learn that most of that might have been based on fear, it was the more intimate moments that displayed the issue. Contrast this with Frank who steals literally every scene, as we’re left wondering how his complete lack of concern for what others think, while also being very good at his bodyguard role, make each scene a thrill to watch. When Doc can’t get into the bathroom and is told to use the outhouse, we can’t wait to hear what Frank is going to say. When Doc gets ruffled up, we’re excited to see how Frank is willing to go to help him. The only moment Doc gets the spotlight seems to be during the final moment at the all-black bar and Doc takes a try at some jazz improv. It’s an example of where diversity in authorship is a necessity. Imagine if the rolls were flipped, and instead the tale was a 70s/80s-inspired throwback of a foul-mouthed lower class black man who assists the successful white man? It’d receive the same criticism as Driving Miss Daisy (1989), The Green Mile (1999), or The Blind Side (2009); showing the black man to be ignorant and uncultured, saved by the white man. I understand this is a true story, but given how obvious the politics are, it seems like rather than let people of color tell their stories, we instead show them as benevolent individuals, while providing their white counterparts with all of the depth and flavor. If I was a betting man, I think we’ll look back to films like this and see them as a reflection of our currently unjust, though improving race relations. I started to forget most of this by the time the film got moving and the chemistry further evolved. I accepted Ali’s rendition and remained excited for Frank. Driving deeper into the south created an unfamiliar tension for such a feel-good moral film. To think less than seventy years ago, just a few years older than my parents, blacks would have to abide by sundown laws, have nowhere to stay, or in the film’s most intense scene, be refused service at the very club Doc is playing at. In a brief moment, we hear the circular illogic that plagues racist thought; believing that the black man who refuses to perform after being denied service demonstrates how unreliable black men are in general. Soon we learn that, like Nat King Cole before him - who was one of the first black men to perform in the reputable clubs down south, accosted and nearly driven out of the city - Doc is attempting to bridge the two worlds, in the hopes that music could help dissolve the perceived differences. In the end, he was willing to sacrifice his own life comforts and safety to accomplish this mission. The two then head back, making it home just in time for Christmas. Frank knows Doc has no one to share the night with, invites him up, but Doc refuses. And in classic rom-com movies, just as Frank grows depressed that his new friend chose to be alone, Doc appears, bottle of wine in hand and welcomed into the apartment. As of writing this, the National Board of Review has named the film Best of the Year and it later received five Golden Globe nominations, including Best Picture. There’s talk that it’s at least front runner for an Oscar, and it seems like the perfect nominee; progressive but not radical the way BlacKKKlansman (2018) is. And perhaps that’s the type of movie some need in Trump’s America. While BlacKKKlansman is the progressive story, Green Book is the conservative one. There’s something about the final scene where Frank opens the door to Doc and how lonely he looks before accepting his new friend in for a family Christmas. It makes you think of how the story continues and what else they shared as the years went on. Any story that leaves you imagining beyond has to be pretty good. BELOW: The scene that blew up liberal Twitter who seemed to miss that their ire is the point Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Some of the most haunting photography I've seen in a romance Director: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger Writer: Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger Cinematographer: Erwin Hillier Producer: Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger, and George R. Busby by Jon Cvack The deeper I get into Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger’s filmography, the more I smile that my first introduction from the guy was with Peeping Tom (1960) during film school; as the majority of us who hadn’t seen it assumed it was the twin movie rip off to Psycho (1960). Years later, when I finally saw the film I was shocked at how good it was; not at all mirror to Psycho but rather its own story and style that would predate most slasher films. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger are possibly two of the most underrated filmmakers in the history of cinema; at least relative to their position in history. I struggle to think of another popular filmmaker(s) of comparable vision that has been completely forgotten.* I’m near wrapping out their available filmography - having written about The Thief of Baghdad (1940) and its incredible effects, A Matter of Life and Death's (1946) profound fantasy and use of color, and wanting to return to their two most famous works, The Red Shoes (1948) and Black Narcissus (1947). The pair are a mid-century merge between Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese. I Know Where I’m Going! starts off with a bang as we’re introduced to a fiercely independent young girl, Joan Webster, who from the earliest age has been able to get exactly what she wants. In a rapid montage, we discover this ranged from expensive pure silk stockings to marrying one of England’s wealthiest citizens who’ll help provide the extravagant life she’s been searching for. Out of the gate, the credits are integrated into the set. The opening shot tracks a crawling infant, ending on her crib where the first set of crew is listed out. Later it pulls back from a bunch of girls exiting a school and ends on a wooden milk van parked on the street, with the second set of the crew listed on the side in a typeface for a traveling medicine man; the wagon moves forward and the camera shifts to the back, where the production designer is displayed. From there, she meets her father and a swanky nightclub where she announces her marriage to Robert Barringer, the chief executive of one of the world’s largest chemical companies. The father is shocked, as Robert is his age; realizing that his daughter has grown to covet wealth and power above all else. Just when you think it’s finally slowing down, she heads to a train, where it feels as though the story gets injected with a massive dose of cocaine, in which the filmmakers intercut between all the train mechanics, a miniature train set, and a bunch of cross fades from her fantasy wedding to Chemical Industries to have everyone she knows wading to her every need; until finally she arrives at the seaside town of Kiloran, which was filmed on the actual Scottish isle of Colonsay where she has to journey across sea to Berringer’s smaller, private island. Unfortunately, a storm rises up which prevents her from leaving. She ends up a local inn where she meets naval officer Torquil MacNeil (Roger Livesey; who I saw in both A Matter of Life and Death and A Life of Colonel Blimp (1943)); an attractive man who’s also trying to get to Kiloran for furlough who invites Joan to stay at a nearby inn. There she meets an eccentric and retired hawk trainer, who’s just one of many unique individuals from the community. The next day, the rain has died, but a heavy gale is blowing, creating unsafe conditions. Torquil gives Joan a tour of the town; ending up at the legendary Moy Castle (an actual place) which Joan wants to enter while Torquil refuses; explaining that a terrible curse has been applied to the current “Laird” of the castle (Laird being the Scottish owner of a large estate); then revealing himself to be the Laird of Kiloran, which he’s simply leasing to the Berringer. The two continue to spend more time together, all while Joan maintains her mission to make it across the sea. Perhaps the best film to compare this to is John Ford’s The Quiet Man (1952), and its gorgeous photography across the Irish countryside. Captured by cinematographer Erwin Hillier’s chilling cinematography, in which he often shot the subjects in silhouette against the partly cloudy skies, there’s a chilling authenticity to the film; part Ingmar Bergman, part David Lean romance, and part Hitchcock’s The Birds (1963); serving as a type of existential tale about whether a woman battling her attraction to money and power as a more humble life’s presented as the alternative; albeit with someone she loves. I had seen the comparison to Hitchcock’s The Birds while trying to find who played the hawk trainer and it’s perfectly fitting. The story of a woman stranded on an island, as though nature is deliberating keeping her there to prove some grander point. I was left thinking of how great an adaptation this would make if Emmanuel Lubezki had the camera; even if all else was kept the same. It skirts that fine line between romance, gothic fairytale, and allegory per the likes of “A Christmas Carol”. It contains images that will forever be burned in my mind; of Joan visiting the seaside, desperate to get across for fear of what she might do with Torquil; of the moment when she finally gets out to sea after exploiting a young man who doesn’t know any better and they end up at the Corryvreckan whirlpool (also a real place) which is truly one of the most incredible natural events I’ve ever seen integrated into a narrative. So many of these pieces add up to one of my favorite films I’ve yet to see from Powell and Pressburger; the kind of film that makes me want to revisit their first films. In the behind the scenes featurette, Martin Scorsese explains how hard it was to see this film initially and soon it became a cult hit even before there was such a phrase. It leaves me wondering how a filmmaker like Powell and Pressburger have fallen off the radar so heavily. When we look back on 1940s/50s/60s cinemas greatest filmmakers, their names might pop up here and there, but it’s often reserved for the second tier of obscurity. From all I’ve seen, their stuff is comparable to Hitchcock; trading the thriller for a fantastical realism. With A Matter of Life and Death now coming out on a Criterion, I’m confident that they’ll one day earn their rightful place; up there with Bergman, Fellini, or John Ford. *Henry Hathaway might fit the bill, but it’s more for his contributions to the western rather than cinema’s more general accomplishments. BELOW: Not much on the YouTube front, but here's a taste of the photography 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  Anarchy and Philosophy Director: Mia Hansen-Løve Writer: Mia Hansen-Løve Cinematographer: Denis Lenoir Producer: Charles Gillibert by Jon Cvack Things to Come is the third film I’ve seen from Mia Hansen-Løve (following Goodbye First Love (2011) and The Father of My Children (2009)) , and unfortunately the last one available on Netflix. The story involves a philosophy professor Nathalie Chazeaux (Isabelle Huppert) who’s on the verge of releasing an updated edition to her book of essays. Nathalie is a woman who looked like she was gorgeous about ten or fifteen years ago; now pushing into her late 50s/early 60s and grasping that her best years - both physically and intellectually - may be behind her. Nathalie’s bipolar mother Yvette Lavastre (Édith Scob) has a similar degree of former sexiness, despite being at least twenty years Nathalie’s senior. Lately she’s been falling to psychotic breakdowns; calling Nathalie to come by her house, and if Natalie doesn’t answer, calling the fire department immediately after. She’s soon forced to enter the hospital, where the episodes take a toll on the nursing staff. Nathalie also has an attractive ex-student Fabien (Roman Kolinka) who since graduating has joined an anarchist community, in which he and others his age, including a couple and their kid, plan to form a radical faction with the intent of ushering in a new revolution. Nathalie mentions how she admired his writing, wondering if he’d be interested in contributing to her new anthology while encouraging him to finish up his Phd. Nathalie’s husband Heinz (André Marcon) is also a philosophy professor, specializing in anarchy, and having influenced much Fabien’s thinking, currently cheating on Nathalie with a younger woman. One day, their pregnant daughter confronts Heinz about the affair, demanding he tell her mom. He does, and without theatrics or grand exchanges, but rather through the conscious controlled rage which a moral philosophy professor would hope to profess, Nathalie breaks it off. A is A, what’s done is done, and that’s all there is to it. Forced to care for her ailing mother, and now living alone in a half empty apartment, Nathalie decides to visit Fabien’s compound, deep in the beautiful countryside. The fantasy is so clear and yet it operates within a perfect logic - Fabien is young and idealistic, hoping to usher in a utopian society, and living up to Marx’s declarations to change the world, while Nathalie is content studying the continental concepts of beauty, love, and art. It separates them more than their ages, but still there’s a fantasy that it could work. While this plot alone could have been a film, Mia knows masterfully avoids any chance of melodrama. She removes the magnifying glass that we’d so often see in these types of films. Of a woman scared to suffer the same fate as her mother does; hoping for one last romance, all while watching everything in her life crumble away. Isabelle Huppert does a magnificent job of portraying both contentment, excitement, and fear. There is philosophy discussed, but the film seems much more interested in how a philosophy professor - with all their knowledge and wisdom - would respond to the fact that life is darkening bit by bit. At other times, abruptly. In the closing image we watch Nathalie hold her grandson, singing him to sleep. There are cozy Christmas decorations and her son-in-law and daughter and their friend are all there, and while we’re unsure how they feel, Nathalie is content. For now. It’s a good film and I’m not sure how much better it could have been, and yet it left me feeling a bit uneasy. As the years race by and yearly traditions seem to repeat themselves with staggering speed, a film like this makes me see how close we all are to the end and that most of life isn’t all that exciting or thrilling. Even the events that should be. BELOW: A fitting, non-spoiled ending Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Charles Laughton's becoming one of my new favs Director: William Dieterle Writer: Sonya Levien and Bruno Frank (adaptation); The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo Producer: Pandro S. Berman Cinematographer: Joseph H. August by Jon Cvack Recently on 2019’s Hollywood Round Table, Alfonso Cuarón mentioned that he had a bad time working on Great Expectations, blaming the poor experience on Hollywood. Throughout the interview, Stephen Galloway pressed Cuarón on what he meant by such a thing (just as he did Bradley Cooper on why Beyonce dropped out of A Star is Born (2018), and Marielle Heller on the various drop outs on Can You Ever Forgive Me (2018)). Entering mid-year eight in LA, I recognize the look they each give; which is to protect your social capital by avoiding any juicy details which can embarrass future or present dealmakers. Cuarón went a bit deeper than a carefully worded diversion, explaining that he needed money and was willing to sacrifice his vision in order to accommodate the studios. The adaptation suffered as a result. Moderately along in my journey through world literature’s greatest books, I recently finished "Don Quixote" (1615; and was bored out of my mind for the vast majority of it). What most great books demonstrate is the necessity of length. What can take over a month to complete forces you to live with particular characters and follow them along an - ideally - grand journey that provides the profound and universal insights that all of the greatest pieces of literature contain. It’s why the old adage that bad books make good movies is so true. It’s a miracle any time a movie can somehow condense the material of a great work into something that retains the message, spirit, and essence. 1939 is known for being one of the greatest years for movies in the history of cinema - The Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Stagecoach, Young Mr. Lincoln, Goodbye Mr. Chip, and Ninotchka. The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a fascinating story where for the first half it feels as though it would make a far greater read than viewing. I haven’t ever seen the Disney version, though it’s when I piece together what the story is about, that I’m all the more impressed that Disney adapted what is a fairly serious and political tale. The film takes place in 15th Century France against the historic backdrop of an overdue peace after the Hundred Years War. To avoid the arduous task of rehashing the plot (this is where I imagine the book resolves the problem of cramming in too much information), essentially there are three rungs of society we follow - the common people, the nobility (specifically the courts), and the clergy which is located in the legendary Notre Dame cathedral, where the deformed hunchback Quasimodo lives, played by Charles Laughton (who makes the film worth a viewing alone), works as the bell ringer. Within the city are a band of dispersed gypsies, unwelcome by the government and people, including the beautiful Esmeralda (Maureen O'Hara). Meanwhile, the local Chief Justice Jean Frollo (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) wants to do all in his power to prevent the burgeoning printing press, led by Pierre Gringoire (Edmond O'Brien), from moving forward; concerned that the masses couldn’t possibly handle the truth they might read and therefore end up causing a revolution that could destabilize the entire country which has finally achieved peace. He also leads the cause in getting the gypsies out of town by the age old tactic of stoking fear in the masses that they’re evil, diseased, and not to be trusted. Attempting to have his guards chase her and the other gypsies out of the city, Esmeralda takes refuge in Notre Dame. She meets Quasimodo, and terrified of his deformity, runs out in fear, while Quasimodo falls in love. Esmeralda finds Captain Phoebus (Alan Marshal) who vows to help her, making the mistake of sending his guards in to arrest Quasimodo rather than Frollo. Quasimodo is subject to twenty lashes in the town square, followed by a public shaming where the citizens throw their stale vegetables, rocks, and excrement at him. Only Esmeralda offers to help, providing him a sip of water. Later, Esmeralda attends a party where Frollo admits his feelings for her. Uninterested and uncomfortable, she ends up with Phoebus in a field; in which Frollo then sneaks up and kills him. The movie makes the scene a bit unclear, as it seems like they deliberately left out the specifics of what happened - as I actually took it as Phoebus raping Esmeralda who then killed him out of self defense. Either way, the next day Frollo accuses Esmeralda of murder, who’s then arrested and put on trial, quickly finding her guilty. Facing the Frollo led court, King Louis XI shows up, and sensing the injustice, gives her a 50/50 way out by - while blindfolded - choosing between the king’s dagger and the dagger that killed Phoebus. The wrong choice resulting in death. This was another confusing part of the film, as it seemed like a ridiculous game of chance taken by the King to save the girl. Esmeralda chooses poorly and is sentenced to a death by hanging. Upon the gallows and with the rope around her neck, Quasimodo swings out to save her moments before death. He brings up to Notre Dame’s Bell Tower, where he attempts to flirt by showing off his ringing skills, frightening Esmeralda who’s overwhelmed by the sounds; providing the film’s best scene. According to law, Notre Dame is a sanctuary, but given the trial’s attention, the people want to override that power. Gringoire gets out a pamphlet that they hope can dissuade this action; attempting to reason with the courts and calm the mob. Getting his hands on the pamphlet, the King realizes that public opinion would be helpful in governance should they use the press to their advantage, all while Frollo continues to criticize the press as threatening their power. The people attack the church, and soon get into the church while Quasimodo fights them off by dropping stones, bricks, and hot oil. Soon Frollo gets up to the tower, hoping to kill Quasimodo who later throws him off. Due to the pamphlet, the King then pardons Esmeralda who finally meets Gringoire and the two leave off together; leaving Quasimodo alone at the church. I can’t think of a film about a classic novel that so badly made me want to read the book (perhaps Cuaron’s Great Expectations (1998) being the exception). While the movie is okay, it’s piecing together the story that piques my interest. What we see is a tale that’s eerily relevant to today’s world - in which those who wish to retain power attempt to destroy the free press and exploit the masses. Like freed black people from the late 19th century, the Jews from the mid-20th century, the Latinos today, or the Gypsies in this story, it’s increasingly apparent that those in power have always turned the masses against the marginalized and oppressed. While I’m unaware of the specific details, it’s clear that Frollo wanted to use the courts to try and skirt the law in his favor, preventing a free press from ever revealing the truth about his actions, or to learn anything about the group he hoped to villainize. What I’m left less certain about is Quasimodo, who while a memorable character and with a great performance from Charles Laughton, seems difficult to fully comprehend within such a brief amount of time as compared to a book. It’s easy to see him as a tragic fool; a mentally disabled man with a big heart who saves the day, and yet I’m sure he serves as a far more lucid and fully fleshed character within such a politically rich story. It’s a two hundred year old story like this that I’d want to show to ambiguous Trump supporters; to demonstrate that what we’re experiencing is not unique, and in fact, is not all that inspired. We have so much literature to comprehend the dangers of the president. It’s a tale as old as time. BELOW: Best scene of the flick 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  Some of the best romantic on screen chemistry of the century Director: Bradley Cooper Writer: Eric Roth, Bradley Cooper, and Will Fetters; based on A Star Is Born (1954 screenplay) by Moss Hart Cinematographer: Matthew Libatique Producer: Bill Gerber, Jon Peters, Bradley Cooper, and Todd Phillips by Jon Cvack I wasn’t expecting much from what was going to be the third remake of the film. I had watched what I thought was the original 1954 version with James Mason and Judy Garland, later learning it was the first remake of the actual original made in 1938 and that this is actually the third remake after the 1978 version with Barbara Streisand Kris Kristofferson. Seeing it was Bradley Cooper’s directorial debut, recruiting Lady Gaga for the title role, I expected a decent film; the kind that’s fun to watch but which you never return to. Weeks into its release, I started seeing people post about the film; including a few cinephiles saying Bradley Cooper might be the next Clint Eastwood or Mel Gibson; as powerful behind the camera in crafting popular mainstream films as he is in front. It was clear that this wasn’t some cheap musical going for a greatest original song Oscar, but going for the top prize and providing a film that’ll remain competitive for Best Picture. Somehow what could have been so easily maudlin was one of the most emotionally wrenching Hollywood studio films I’ve seen since Titanic (1997). The film opens up with country/rock n roll singer Jackson Maine (Bradley Cooper) who needs half a dozen shots of gin and a couple of pain killers just to get him ready to perform. The camera follows him on stage and the opening song “Black Eyes” comes out strong; skating that fine line between badass and musical show tune; the kind of song where when you listen to the soundtrack its power is gone, going to show just how strong Cooper’s vision was. Jackson leaves the show, pushes his way through the crowd and hops into his transpo SUV; a bottle of gin waiting for him which he quickly clears off. Those familiar with the story notice the foreshadowing omens, as the city’s bright lights at one point show a bunch of nooses in silhouette, hanging behind him. He sees a bar and asks the driver to stop, forcing his way in when a young man recognizes the megastar and warning him against entering a gay bar where a drag show takes place. One of the girls Ally (Lady Gaga) is an aspiring singer who proclaims her mediocre looks (on the Hollywood scale, I guess) have prevented her from getting to the next level. She performs a French tune at the show, pouring her heart into it, not knowing that Jackson Maine is in attendance. Jackson is taken aback, requesting to go backstage to meet the girl and immediately falls in love, inviting her to go out and get a drink where the two end up at a cop bar. Jackson’s accosted by one of the off duty officers and Ally steps in, punching him in the face and the two head to the local market so Jackson can buy some of frozen peas and help her hand. So begins one of only a couple awkward and very staged moments (for a musical) in which Ally breaks out into a song she made up on the spot, then stands up and belches out the chorus in a way I guess the filmmakers had to do to make the plot work, but felt a bit serving to that purpose. Oh well, it’s a musical and it’s easy enough to look past. Jackson drops her off at home where her dad and his luxury driving crew assemble before their day of picking up celebrities and betting on horse races. Cooper asks for her to come to the show tonight, but she has work. Jackson’s driver nevertheless shows up and vows to follow her, which should be creepy, but again serves the purpose of getting Ally to quit her job and head out to the show where Jackson invites her on stage to sing the song Ally just sang to him the night before in the parking lot. Ally’s guest appearance goes viral, and she continues to make further appearances at Jackson’s shows, attracting the attention of music producer and manager Rez Gavron (Rafi Gavron) who provides a flawless Hollywood slimeball. Elated, Ally tells Jackson Maine the news, who blotto once again, brushes off the news before falling off the couch; later demanding that Ally preserve her spirit and avoid selling out. This proves a challenge as Rez demands she take dance lessons and undergo a radical makeover. When she refuses to have her back up dancers on stage, Rez scolds her; threatening that unless she listens to everything he says, success just wouldn’t work and he’d find someone else. Meanwhile, Jackson’s hearing is starting to get worse; leaving you to wonder if initially, or at least partially, he recruited Ally in order to save his ailing show. Soon he’s forced to cancel his tour, and after being invited to perform at the Grammys, is forced to give up his vocals and play a lone lead guitar. He gets bombed out of his mind before the performance, hardly able to stand and returns to his seat, where Ally waits to see if she can win Best New Artist of the Year. Her name’s called, and in the most memorable scene from the 1954 version, she accepts with Jackson following behind; hardly able to walk up the stairs, essentially crawling over to her and then pisses his pants for all the world (via YouTube) to see. Ally’s father flips (Andrew Dice Clay), and in a phenomenal character shift, we see the dad move from the RomCom blue collar comedy relief, to an enraged man, wanting nothing more than to beat Jackson down. Instead, he tosses Jackson into the shower where Ally somehow finds it in her heart to forgive him, washing him off as Jackson shakes from his need for another drink. He checks into an AA program, admitting his alcoholism and turning his life around. He admits to his sponsor that he once tried committing suicide with a belt when he was young; hanging himself from a fan blade which broke up and cut him on the head. They laugh it off and Ally later visits him, where in yet another wrenching scene, displaying Cooper’s utter prowess, he apologizes for what he did to her. Later, after being released, he gives the same to his brother Bobby (Sam Elliott), though in the perfect way men often talk around the apology. Elliot’s beet red eyes refuse to leave a dry eye in the theater. Later, Rez visits Jackson, who offers yet another apology and thank you for taking care of his girl while he was in rehab. Rez ignores the gesture, instead scolding Jackson for nearly ruining her career (and the vast profits he hopes to rake in). Jackson is smothered; realizing that his weakness could destroy the dreams of the one person he loves. He heads out to his truck, finds some pills, and heads into the garage and hangs himself with a belt; never making it to Ally’s big performance. I can’t recall the last time I’ve shed so many tears in a film; no matter how much I resisted. It was though someone spiked the film with onions, leaving me completely helpless and overwhelmed with emotion. The first film that comes to mind is Titanic, though even that series of Niagara Falls was reserved for the ending. I shed my first tear when Ally was brought on stage to sing her song, and they kept flowing from there on out. Even after the film ended and I was driving home, I kept getting choked up; embarrassed, though impressed that it could stick with me for so long. It’s a testament to Bradley Cooper’s phenomenal direction in which he somehow avoided nearly all of the maudlin pitfalls that could have made things cringey. There was an honesty in each and every scene; arguably Cooper’s finest role as he disappeared into Jackson Maine and I was left hoping to check out his other music; or that Lady Gaga’s debut role would be such an incredible knock out. It accomplished the miraculous in, like Titanic, making me fully believe how much these two characters loved one another unconditionally; where Ally couldn’t abandon Jackson no matter how much he hurt himself, and that Jackson was willing to make such a sacrifice. The film captures that yearning to be heard and the obsession that great artists have; where to live with another is about sharing love someone has both for you and their work. In the end, I can’t help thinking that ultimately Jackson might have made the right move; that in a grand gesture of love, however selfish it might seem to be for the pain he causes others, it was ultimately selfless; in order to avoid destroying the love Ally had for music. What tears most at the heart string is that Jackson thought his role in her life was worth so much less. Then again, as he lost his own abilities, maybe it was the best decision for all the outcomes. He wouldn’t have to live with the pain of being unable to play, and to take away Ally’s passion for music. BELOW: A song that is awesome to watch and less awesome to hear Like what you read? Support the site on Patreon Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Fetishizing the black body Director: Richard Fleischer Writer: Norman Wexler; based on Mandingo by Kyle Onstott Cinematographer: Richard H. Kline Producer: Dino De Laurentiis by Jon Cvack Mandingo was the third film in the series hosted by my friend in the back porch of a used book store, following Joe (1970) and Bone (1972). I was assured by my friend that it was a film not to be missed; described as, "...the bastard child to Gone with the Wind", which is apt. Mandingo takes place at the decrepit Falconhurst plantation, owned by unscrupulous Warren Maxwell (James Mason ; in one of his best and most transformative roles), who’s first introduced reviewing a band of slaves brought in for sale; examining them like cattle - forcing them to open their mouths, bend over, and do laps to test their agility. He buys the best built slave, Mede (Ken Norton), along with a few others and returns back to his house to have lunch with his friends and son, Hammond (Perry King), who pretty much runs the place. Hammond is more accommodating to the slaves; uninterested in abusing them beyond what most were used to beneath other masters. After Mede attempts to escape, Hammond is forced to whip them, and we watch in a brutal wide as he forces a larger black man strip down, ties him up, and begins to paddle him down hard enough to bleed, but not hard enough to exert any lasting physical damage. Hammond’s cousin, Charles (Ben Masters), then stops by, scolding Hammond for going too easy on the slave. He takes the paddle himself where he unleashes a frightening series of violent corrections. An ongoing discussion after the film was whether or not this film offensive sensationalism for white people, or provided a candid look at a terrifying moment in history; albeit through a melodramatic format. It was hearing both sides, though particularly the former, that is something to recall below. It’s difficult to write about these scenes without first highlighting this specific conflict from the viewer as it’s what makes the film so complex. For instance, after the barn flagging, the Falconhurst women slaves prepare a young woman Ellen (Brenda Sykes) to lose her virginity to Hammond in one of the huts. The girl has no idea what to expect other than it’ll be painful. She stares forward deep in thought, counting down the moment while an adult slave - whether her mom, aunt, or no relation - rubs her down, trying her best to keep her calm. Given the previous disclaimer, it’s a scene like this that breaks down anyone who sees this as necessarily sensationalizing the performances. As popular as the film was, I have trouble believing such a larger audience had some extremely weird snuff fetish and was satisfied by the rape, violence, and murder of black Slaves (especially because the film also performed well with black audiences). If the film wanted to be insensitive, they could have had the women joke about the girl’s pending assault; or at least not care, or they could have avoided showing any of the prelude and how these characters might feel about the experience. Instead I found myself terrified. Watching it in this day and age, you realize how little time 150 years is and what people were capable of doing to others. It’s so easy to believe that we have progressed or evolved out of it, and while improvements have been made, it’s not as though those desires or possibilities are forever vanquished from man. Evolution doesn’t work like that. We have a government that has progressed to protect more people; but it can just as easily go the other way. Throughout his term, Trump has repealed the recognition of transgender people deserving equal rights; meaning they're more vulnerable to hate crimes. White Supremacist violence is on the rise. People are getting assaulted or killed. That is a fact and demonstrates how things can regress. The question is as to how far. Hammond and Charles then take two female slaves back to their room and divide them up; both women shaking in fear. Charles’ sadism is further on display as he strips his slave naked and beats her, vowing to violently rape her, which alarms Hammond who takes Ellen into the next room and treats her with relative respect; "allowing" her to look him in the eye and kiss him on the mouth. Maxwell pressures Hammond to get married and decides on his wealthy cousin Blanche (Susan George; who I had previously seen in Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry (1974)). Hammond remains suspicious that Blanche has already lost her virginity; with a strong hint that it had something to do with Charles (we later learn, though immediately suspect - given Chris’s violent penchant - it was sexual assault). During the honeymoon, Hammond finally pops, storms out of the room, and straight to a brothel where he later finds Mede fighting one of the other black slaves. The whole brothel clears out to watch and Mede destroys his opponent. The defeated slave owner then offers Hammond $10,000 for Mede. Hammond refuses, instead challenging him to a rematch. The pair return to Falconhurst and Mede begins a brutal training regime, culminating in forcing him to sit in an iron cauldron of near boiling salt water in order to “toughen his skin.” When a group of slaves attempt to escape, Hammond sends Mede out to hunt them down; tackling one to the ground who begs Mede to let him go rather than do the bidding for the master. Mede struggles for a moment and the armed workers close in, he seizes the rebel slave and ties a noose around his neck while he sits on a chair, the chair tied to a truck which then drives away, leaving him to hang as dozens of slaves and hunters, including Mede, watch as the fugitive suffocates to death. Back at the plantation, Hammond continues his affair with Ellen while ignoring Blanche who descends into severe alcoholism; kicking back hot toddies by the minute and developing a volatile temper as a result. Soon she suspects the affair between Ellen and Hammond, which Hammond denies. However, when Hammond, Maxwell, and Charles take Mede back to the city for the rematch, Blanche calls up Ellen to her room and in a drunken rage, she beats her senseless with a cane. Back in town, Mede starts his first fight and so begins an even more brutal death scene than the hanging, as just as Mede is up against the ropes, he flips the fight around, popping out his opponent’s eyeballs and then biting off a chunk of his neck, killing him. The crowd cheers and Mede is hailed a hero. No one ever even mentions the fact that he’s also a murderer. In celebration, Hammond buys two pieces of jewelry; a necklace for Blanche and matching earrings for Ellen. After arriving back, we learn that Ellen is pregnant with Hammond’s child. Maxwell learns the news and threatens to kill her if she tells Hammond. However, at dinner, when Ellen wears some expensive earrings Hammond bought her and after Blanche receives her far inferior present, she connects the pieces. Later, in another violent eruption spawned by learning of the pregnancy, she pushes Ellen down the stairs; causing Ellen to miscarry the child. Still, Ellen doesn’t tell Hammond what happened, either about the baby or Blanche’s abuse. Years later, Hammond now travels on other business; leaving Blanche alone with Mede who she calls to her room, demanding he make love to her and providing a type of bizarre interracial porn without the graphic detail. Soon Blanche becomes pregnant and decides to have the baby. Their local friend and doctor delivers the child, inviting Maxwell upstairs alone where he shows him the interracial child. Maxwell orders the doctor to kill the baby and then tell Hammond there was an accident. Hammond forces his way up, discovering the dead infant, and then poisons Blanche’s toddy; killing her. He storms outside, orders the slaves to boil the cauldron of water, finds Mede, and at gunpoint, demands he jump in. Hammond then shoots him and Mede falls into the water, burning alive. Hammond then grabs a pitch fork and tries to drown him. Another slave Agamemnon (Richard Ward) enters the scene with a rifle pulled, shooting Maxwell after he calls Agamemnon a “grisly nigger”, dropping the rifle, and leaving Hammond to kneel next to his dead father. So ends the film and what began as a discussion that lasted for two hours amongst the audience and the evening’s host. The majority saw the film as a piece of racist trash, while the other saw a film that was, at the very least, demonstrating the horrors of slavery. One man brought up the fact that these movies were based a series books by Kyle Onstott who wrote them through the decades after slavery and up to the 1960s. The man said that these books were trashy melodramatic works that were most popular amongst white women. Not knowing the facts, I couldn’t argue back, but later realized the inherent assumption about the books. Although no one knew anything about the source material, per the movie, they must be trash; catering mostly to white upper class women; failing to acknowledge the fact that 1) the vast majority of readers are women any way, and 2) most emancipated slaves and their descendants were illiterate due to Jim Crow laws, and up until Onstott’s death, were second class citizens and victims of the utter failure that was Reconstructions. Again, this movie was popular amongst black audiences. Someone else had mentioned that a prominent Marxist film critic at the time applauded the film for showing the darkest realities of capitalism. Quentin Tarantino considered the film Hollywood's first exploitation film and looked to the film when developing Django Unchaine (2012). I was left thinking of Giuseppe De Santis’s Italian Neo-Realist masterpiece Bitter Rice (1949) who combined a melodramatic story within a socialist text; demonstrating the utter horrors of rice farmers against the land owners. Santis’ philosophy was that in order to attract people to complex and progressive ideas required an accessible narrative. The mainstream would have no interest in watching a socialist text otherwise. Mandingo suffers from the problems that films even up to the 1990s exhibited with movies such as Mississippi Burning (1988), A Time to Kill (1996), and Ghost of Mississippi (1996) in which, while exploring movies about pre-Civil Right abuses and murder, they were nonetheless focused on the white character savior. The primary issue is that the narrative is from a white and racist man’s point of view; however complex Onstott attempted to make him. My suspicion is that Onstott might have been attempting to show the abject horror of slavery within a narrative which could lure white people; as I’m not sure how many mainstream audiences there would be for watching a film like this otherwise. Of course, "Roots" (1977) would disprove the idea only five years later, told from author Alex Haley’s point of view (whose shelf life demonstrates the efficacy in a proper point of view). This was a wildly popular film, and I’m certain portrayed a side of slavery rarely encountered by most white audiences. To view the film as nothing more than fetish porn is to diminish what it is at least attempting to do - portray the shocking history of our country. At no point is slavery celebrated. To the very end we view the Maxwell family as despicable human beings surrounded by even more despicable human beings. The film’s popularity might be attributed to the evil people saw in themselves. In today’s world - at the time of this writing - where 11 Jewish people practicing their religion were butchered down by an anti-semite and two black people were killed by a racist in Kentucky, the hate is still there and must be tamed. Better to see it and do whatever you can to prevent regressing even an inch in that direction than be shocked when the horrors return. BELOW: Gives Tarantino a run for his money 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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