Sunday, April 26, 2009
When Masha Tupitsyn and I started trying to figure out how to turn our ongoing discussion about film into an anthology, we looked to writers we loved whose work seemed to be having that conversation in some way too. Kevin Killian was one of the first people who came to mind.
Several years ago, I asked Killian to play a game of word association revolving around the subject of movies and movie stars. The exercise seemed appropriate to me at the time because Killian had always been so impressively succinct in what he had to say about film and so encyclopedic in terms of what he knew, which created an interesting tension between informative candor and cryptic precision. Reading this word game again now, I realize I simply wanted to hear what he had to say. I like hearing Kevin talk about movies. I could listen to him talk about movies all day. The same goes for all the contributors to LIFE AS WE SHOW IT, which is I think what compelled us to ask them to participate in the first place, however I might gussy that impulse up in theory to make it sound more impressively academic.
Killian's work consistently references film. His book of poems, Argento Series (2001), uses the filmmaker Dario Argento as a thematic springboard, but even his novels, which don't ostensibly have to do with film, operate like one in various ways, echoing motifs from Douglas Sirk's melodramas and the ironic reversals and Technicolor gloss of Ross Hunter productions, among other things. Killian is the author of two novels--Shy (1989) and Arctic Summer (1997)--a book of memoirs--Bedrooms Have Windows (1989)--several books of stories--Little Men (1996), I Cry Like a Baby (2001), and Impossible Princess (forthcoming, 2009)--and many plays. Our word game started with...
KILLIAN: Scott Fitzgerald wrote that you couldn't write a scene for Crawford in which she had to change her expression, in a single take. You had to cut away to another character or prop, then back to her face. Otherwise it looked like an explosion happening right on her face. She's not subtle, but- "Dancing Lady," sex tension between Crawford and Gable is hot enough to light a match. PWROAR! I think little children are drawn to her or repelled by her, anyhow she must be one of the first stars children recognize because her face is so vivid, not to mention her personality. She continues to be underrated, because she tries so hard.
"What does one do with one's enthusiasms? Where do they keep? There's an anxiety in declaring oneself a Kylie fan-similar to how coming out used to feel. Dennis Cooper can say, "Oh, I'm influenced by Bresson," and people will nod with approbation, even if they're thinking of Cartier-Bresson. I suffered some credibility loss while under the spell of Dario Argento, but nothing like the waves of shame and misery that engulf me when people say, "Kylie who? That girl who did "The Lo-comotion"?" I think I like her because she remind me of myself, I don't have Dennis' genius, not to mention Bresson's, but like Kylie I can stretch out a second or third rate talent and make it mean something by a) insisting on its smallness; b) attempting to push the envelope, usually by collaboration with others and c) feeling no guilt when, in a corner, at the end of my tether, or upset by something in my personal life, I retreat to my roots and produce version XYZ of the thing I know you'll like from me. . . " That said, Bresson has been a constant presence throughout the writing of "Spreadeagle," particularly his notes on models, as he called his actors. "Respect man's nature without wishing it more palpable than it is."--"A system does not regulate everything. It is a bait for something. Apply myself to insignificant (non-significant) images." -- "His voice draws for me his mouth, his eyes, his face, makes for me his complete portrait, outer and inner, better than if he were in front of me. The best deciphering got by the ear alone. Two persons, looking each other in the eye, see not their eyes but their looks. (The reason why we get the colour of a person's eyes wrong?)"
not much to say.
Brian Dipalma (yes or no? If yes, your two favorite BDP films. If no, name the most annoying):
Favorites? "Sisters" and "Blow Out." Leslie Singer and I went to see "Raising Cain" and we were the only ones in an empty theater, clapping and cheering and going bananas, a wonderful memory. I went to see "Snake Eyes" with Stephen Cope and Joel Kuszai down in San Diego, two of the cutest guys in history (of writing anyhow)!
A cartoon-y version of Stanley Donen, I'd rather see Donen do it.
Always good, though not as good as Steve Shaviro makes him out to be. After reading Shaviro's analysis of Lewis in "The Cinematic Body," Dodie and I actually rented "Hardly Working." Thanks Steve . . . where's those emoticons that denote disgust and bafflement?
Who would make good screen lovers, living or dead:
Montgomery Clift and Mae West in "Sunset Boulevard." Best actual screen lovers-Hayley Mills and Hywel Bennett in "Twisted Nerve," "Endless Night," and "The Family Way."
Like Woody Allen. The movies always sound good before you go to see them.
Jane Fonda (before Aerobics, after, or never?):
Oh my God. Although her films got worse and worse after a certain point, I still worship her. Michael Lally has a great poem expressing this queasy feeling for Jane. "The Chapman Report" and "The Blue Bird" two great Fonda films by George Cukor. That she retired is one of the great tragedies of cinema. Along with Meg Tilly and Glenda Jackson and Debra Winger and Demi Moore-all retired. It's like the 80s never happened!!! And also, what happened to Paula Prentiss? Or Joanna Pettet? Back to Jane Fonda, shit, I've got so much to say about Jane it'd take me a day and a half to answer this question properly. For me, she is six degrees of Kevin Bacon in a nutshell.
Career highlight still "Thelma and Louise."
Underrated, skillful, always glad to see her, a little scary though, you have to have big balls to go up against, or even to watch, Doris Day. The pictures where she's neurotic ("Julie," "Midnight Lace," "The Man who Knew Too Much," "Love Me or Leave Me") are unpleasant experiences, her suffering so real it grips you like cinema verite.
Only a handful of good movies, but he traps you in a vise, constructs a glass prison house in which you live for the rest of her life.
The man who wanted too much. Tragic glutton.
Stiff, perplexing, goddess.
Most memorable Garbo moment in Camille:
Being kind to her maid.
Godard (two or three things you know about him):
When he was first making films, you never knew what would happen. Each of his pictures was completely different than the last. Then came the two pictures with Jane (Fonda) and he lost the plot. Wonder if she broke his heart. She's too tough for most men.
Willem Defoe (or his son):
There hasn't been a picture that hasn't been ruined by him being in it, from "Cry Baby" to "eXistenZ" to "Last Temptation" and "Platoon." Oh God, I had to sit through "Shadow of the Vampire" with him AND Malkovich, I now have paid for all my sins in all my incarnations. But the son, if that is his son, anyhow the boy who was next to him at the Oscars, is like Josh Hartnett without the flaws! Please, more pictures with Son Dafoe, fewer with Dad!
Hudson (Rock, not Kate):
Just the opposite, always good in every kind of role.
Hepburn (Kate, not Audrey):
A trying freak of nature, but with an enigmatic core that keeps you interested in watching and seeing what she does. She's very beautiful in some lights, harsh and plain in others-that's interesting too.
When I was a boy I thought her lovely. Now she looks a little strained, worried. We went to a tribute to Novak at the old Pagoda Pacific Theater here in San Francisco. They showed a reel or two of film clips, then escorted her to the stage in person. Her black and silver dress brushed my hand. We were disappointed in her discretion, everyone was always sweet to her-even Alfred Hitchcock-hello, Kim? Then they showed the whole of Picnic. Hooray! But actually her films are almost always worth seeing, she lucked out with a lot of great directors, including George Sidney.
Sammy Davis, Jr.:
Not really a film star, was he?
He'll sink into a period of deep depression, and then rebound with hit after hit.
Each of these Danes seems to interpret its rules in different ways, don't they? I get mixed up. If a movement attracts Jennifer Jason Leigh, how good can it be?
Benicio del Toro:
Dodie nudged me and said, "Daddy-buy me that," echoing Marlene Dietrich walking through Universal commissary and spotting John Wayne.
The last five movies you saw for the first time, and your impressions of them:
"The Others," good scary picture. "36 Hours," better had there been more twists in the plot, otherwise terrific. "Grounds for Marriage" the leading actresses Grayson and Raymond photographed so that they look black. "Darkman," a good fast-moving picture that, if made today, would be even more highly edited and whiz-bang. "The Gift," scary as anything, but you could tell Greg Kinnear did it a mile away!!!
I thought he was retarded in "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?"
I would never go to a movie because Deneuve was in it. If she was in a movie on TV, I'd turn it off. And I love her! Must be something about her stolidity and all those face peels, et cetera, and her trying to have it both ways, that I don't care for. Hmmm, will have to think about this.
Something's Got to Give:
The newly edited footage is super, the best movie I saw in the year 2000.
Don't remember this one. I did read a lot of fan magazines as a kid, and my favorite was "Rona Barrett's Hollywood." We did our own version of that, and it ran to three issues, we'd have all our friends and write about them having scandals with the stars.
Jean Harlow in "Dinner at Eight":
You always see the one clip of Marie Dressler doing that double take and saying, "That my dear is something you never need worry about." So you notice Dressler more than Harlow.
Most memorable Busby Berkeley number (describe it from memory):
Hmmm, too many, Esther Williams' water ballet in "The Duchess of Idaho" comes to mind, because I just saw it, a gaggle of men lean over plaster leaves into the water and grab her arms and force her to swim this way and that: all this on a Broadway stage.
Wasn't she the girl who jumped off the Hollywood sign? Someone had to do it I guess.
Creepiest child actor living:
Hmmm, I still haven't warmed up to Elijah Wood or that other one who was in Witness and went bad. Lukas Haas? On the distaff side, Jena Malone without a doubt. If I was Julia Roberts in "Stepmom," I would have murdered her without a doubt.
Hudson (Kate, not Rock):
Gee, she was cute in "Almost Famous," and I can't picture the film with Sarah Polley in it, so, four stars for her, but she'll never be a patch on her mother Goldie Hawn. Oh, what am I saying, have you ever read the play Scott Hewicker and I wrote together about 4 years ago? "The Schwimmer Effect" outlines a secret Hollywood plot in which Goldie Hawn masquerades as a daughter she never had to disguise the fact that she has taken part in a secret experiment to maintain her youth, an experiment that worked too well! Thus we had the whole Kate Hudson thing tapped before anyone else!
Hepburn (Audrey, not Kate):
Awkward, touching, full of life, badly used in "Paris While It's Sizzling," "How to Steal a Million," "The Nun's Story," and that Spielberg film. But otherwise she got first class treatment from a horde of bedazzled men.
At one time the biggest movie star in the world!
Saw her at the Castro singing in a cowgirl outfit, her voice wasn't bad, how on earth did she become a star? She's sexy, a little, but those crossed eyes always make you think she's sneaky.
Role Haley Joel Osment would be best suited for:
The boy Czar who has the hemophilia and Rasputin, who lusts after him, can't have him, so he lets the Red Guards shoot him and bury his body in the woods. Or, he could play in the Macaulay Culkin story.
Snobby and aloof, on the one hand his films are overstuffed and silly with their pretensions (that Hepburn and Vivien Leigh were great actresses, that Ava Gardner could act, that people want "quality"), and on the other hand his condescension towards everyday people (the Judy Holiday "character") is almost unbearable. And yet on the third hand, almost by accident or so it seems, some great things emerge from this closeted soup-My Fair Lady, Justine, Rich and Famous, the character Leueen McGrath plays in Edward My Son, I could go on and on. He loved actors, they always say, always the mark of a ninny. Infinitely superior to the wretched John Huston.
Cukor, Vincent Sherman, Sirk, Delmer Daves, Minnelli melodramas, Ida Lupino movies . . .
Four cinematic details that come to mind, from what movies:
1. Tippi Hedren carrying the love birds across Bodega Bay in the motorboat ("The Birds").
2. Tony singing "Something's Coming" in "West Side Story."
3. Robert Redford passed out and Barbra Streisand passes her hand along his brow ("The Way We Were.")
4. James Caan drumming his thumbs on table edge ("The Godfather.")
Josef Von Sternberg:
Sianne Ngai writing her paper that proves or suggests that "Blonde Venus" is based on contemporary perceptions of Josephine Baker, so it's all about race really.
Black helmet of hair, Pandora's Box, things people said about her that were always better than what she really was, Kenneth Tynan's profile of Brooks incredible, but no one could live up that hype.
Never got a chuckle of any of his shows.
Like Woody Allen and David Cronenberg, except in his case he actually did make 3 movies I enjoyed.
The Emperor's New Clothes
Another hallmark of quality for middle brow people.
Usually better playing opposite others, he really could act, she can't, but they're swell together
My God, why waste time on her when I have written reams elsewhere on her great contemporaries, Annette, Deborah Walley, Connie Francis, Debbie Reynolds, Ursula Andress. On the other hand, I do like her, wonder if she wouldn't have made it bigger had she called herself "Constance Stevens," gained some respect.
Great when she's sad, but only if she smiles afterwards, wonderful smile, I'm with the US public on this one, I love Julia Roberts and always will!
Never been a good screen version of her life, but after all, only one bio-pic has ever worked for me ("Lady Sings the Blues.")
The first star tragedy that comes to mind:
"Marilyn Monroe being attacked by a bottle of sleeping pills/ Like a bottle of angry hornets" (Spicer). At the same time, one feels Marilyn to have been terribly self-absorbed and mean when she wasn't being, you know, loving and kind.
God, she's only four feet ten, all she has to do is put on one pound she looks fat.
What's with this "Liz" stuff anyhow, don't you know we're supposed to call her Elizabeth at all times!!!
Jean Arthur and Cary Grant, I'm, like, kind of there.
Five people you'd like to see in what five roles:
Raquel Welch as Myra Breckinridge, oops, she did that one. Warren Beatty in that Tarantino picture planned for him. I always thought the girl in "One False Move" would be a big star. Now I can't even remember her name. Cold reptilian Tom Hanks would make a good Argento killer. Remake of "The Bodyguard" with Kylie Minogue and Russell Crowe. Eddie Murphy, he is so funny in Bowfinger I thought I'd die.
Glamorous, mysterious, looks like she could take care of herself, but couldn't I guess. Couldn't really sing or dance or act, always looked too big for her clothes, but perfect in her own way.
Everything they say about him's true, he's a God.
Oh my goodness, I wrote a whole play about her for our Poets Theater in which Ethel Chase, Darrell Alvarez's mother, was to play Ritter-but she died, she had been the life and soul of our group. And afraid of nothing. Darrell suggested it, because his mother had always loved Ritter, or had often been compared to her, so this play, "Thelma," (a musical) was a kind of Ritter as Mae West backstage look at her life. Never published nor performed but given to Ethel Chase on her last birthday.
When I was young they always showed re-runs of her on "Oh, Susannah," she scared me she looked so much like a squirrel.
Your three favorite Dario Argento films (and the first thing that pops into your mind about each):
1.Trauma-butterfly Point Of View.
2.Opera-Betty with her eyes sewn open and she's squirming.
3.Suspiria-Jessica Harper quarrelling in locker room about snakes and shoes.
Some love her but I hate her. All the gay guys at my office were, like, overjoyed when she came to town and filmed some hideous movie with Glenn Close ("Maxie") right next to our building, and I'm like, kvetching and knelling, I felt like bugs were crawling up underneath my pant legs and were headed for my balls like crabs.
Kind of like the aunt character everyone loves, but, rather see Joan Blondell than Holiday in any one part Holiday played.
Stupid smile and I never forgave him for attacking that waitress in that movie by making her give him some stupid order that wasn't on the menu.
Must have been very insecure being the daughter of such a horrid person.
Cult of Ashby incomprehensible to me, though he made some great pictures
Seems worse as I grow older, but once I loved her, she's still great in "West Side Story" and "Splendor in the Grass." Who's the un-named, married movie idol who raped her (early 50s) when she was a very young girl? Could it have been-Kirk Douglas?
Another one who had to happen to slow down US cinema and make it murky.
Poor man's Mimsy Farmer.
Could never believe she had an IQ of 195, has that ever been disproved?
Nothing to say about her.
Five of your favorite actresses, living:
Are you sure you don't need 500? How about, Kim Basinger, Melanie Griffith, Barbara Hershey, Farrah, Jennifer Jones.
Five of your favorite dead:
Norma Shearer, Constance Bennett, Kay Francis, Natalie Wood, Hedy Lamarr.
The most memorable use of red in a movie:
The end of Hitchcock's film "Topaz" when the Juanita Castro character is stabbed and her fall is seen from above and her red gown spills out onto the white parquet like a blooming flower.
Eric Roberts (tragedy or accident waiting to happen):
Now claims he was spanked too much as a boy.
The role in which Tom Cruise seemed most like a gay man to you:
"Eyes Wide Shut"
Well, not since "Tommy" has she really thrilled me, but the 1-2-3 punch of her George Sidney movies ("Bye Bye Birdie," "Viva Las Vegas" and that other one where they use her for body painting) will never be toppled or equaled. She is youth-or was.
Torn between Judy Geeson and Suzy Kendall in "To Sir with Love," each of them more beautiful than the other.
Your least favorite non-living actor:
Never too fond of Cuddles, S Z Sakall, from the old Warner Brothers films, but now I quite like him. I don't know. Henry Fonda gives me the willies.
Your least favorite and unfortunately fully living actor:
Could it be-Kevin Spacey? No-Woody Allen is worse. Bridget Fonda? A blank hole in the screen. Penelope Cruz? Ditto. Dodie says, "Richard Dreyfuss." Oh God, how could I forget my aversion to --Christina Ricci! She's horrible (though I expect she's very nice in person. Also-Meg Ryan. Indeed, any star who's estranged from her mother.
Nobody really cares.
Used to like her.
"Norma Rae," a lifetime ago, few can now remember how you just couldn't believe it was Sally Field.
Always the same, a real screen star, loveable, like John Wayne is loveable. That soaring Morricone music for the love theme from "Once Upon a Time in the West" for Bronson and Claudia
Who should play opposite whom in the remake of A Place in the Sun:
John Cusack I guess, Catherina Zeta-Jones, Melanie Griffith in the Shelley Winters part.
What book would you most like to see adapted into a movie?:
Always thought "I Capture the Castle" would be a good film? Ira Levin's "Son of Rosemary" would be great. I can't believe they're abandoning the film of "Rent." How about "Troublemaker"?
If Arctic Summer were adapted, who to direct, and who to star:
Baz Luhrmann to direct, and Paul Mercurio could be Liam. Seann William Scott or Johan Paulik as Tommy. (You can see I'm hedging my bets.) Bridgette Wilson-Sampras as Diane. Charlotte Rampling as her mother. Robert Redford as Charles Carpenter. Kevin Spacey and Helen Mirren as Ralph and Betty Isham. Josh Brolin as George Dorset, Helen Hunt as Lorna. Leo could be Guy de Remours. The geeky boy from "Rushmore" as Philip Mandel. There, all pegged.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Like Michael Lesy's WISCONSIN DEATH TRIP, writer Bard Cole's THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG assembles itself around what seem to be localized, everyday events, providing lists, titles, anecdotes and a wealth of evocative detail to engage its reader in uniquely trippy ways.
The story behind WISCONSIN DEATH TRIP: Lesy found an archive of black and white photos from the town of Black River Falls dating back to the 1890's, arranging these with selected contemporaneous articles from the town's newspaper in book form. Looking at WISCONSIN DEATH TRIP involves trying to make sense of mystery. What the hell happened? Here's an inscrutable face; there a report of famine. An infant died. Was it the blank-eyed baby pictured? You're compelled to make connections between the text and the people who bracket it, animating private movies about them without any verifiable indication of causal relationship, propelled by an ebb and flow of tonal variation. It's a curiously enigmatic read, putting you in touch with your neediness for story, the unavoidable urge to play God, the chronic sense of lack underlying every tightly rigged narrative scenario.
And it's sad; like looking at your grandparents and your parents and the people you love in pictures, knowing they'll be gone at some point—maybe they already are--wondering how a flimsy photo and an assortment of facts will endow any person’s absence with any real, useful sense of presence. THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG shares some of WISCONSIN’s cinematic sadness, I think, as well as some of the lonely, spartan qualities you find in Willa Cather (one of Cole's favorite authors), the curlicue but angular wit of Edward Gorey (one of his favorite artists), and the weird, wildly associational, voraciously multi-directional tug you experience walking into an eclectically arranged antique shop, a place you might find a war medal, a dented Tuba from a high school marching band, and a crusted wig, all in the same corner.
My mind also immediately goes to THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG and Cole every time I see ELEPHANT HOUSE: OR, THE HOME OF EDWARD GOREY, a book of black and white photos taken within days of the artist’s death. Like Warhol, Gorey was a voracious collector. Objects, cats, rocks, and sundry curiosities. The arrangements speak volumes without exactly finishing a sentence. The author of ELEPHANT, by way of explaining Gorey’s overstuffed enigma of an abode, could have been talking about THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG: “Edward loved to 'arrange' things,” he says, and in his hands "pliers became dragons, shears were birds in flight." What could be sadder than a house full of a missing person’s abundance of personal belongings, bereft of their reason for being?
Maybe I’m projecting my own sadness onto Cole’s material. It’s awfully generous that way. Then again, the forgotten tends to elicit a heightened response, part nostalgia, part moving right along—and THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG, among many other things, is a textured meditation on overlapping grids of memory and history, loss advanced by inexorable accretion. Bard’s sensibility takes in polar points of view, creating a mood, for me, which sits somewhere between wry and wistful, mordant and keenly sensitive. THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG exemplifies what language can do in and outside of traditional narrative, what a smart, open mind can make out of the unlikely if not the impossible, arranging it all into something more than the mere sum of its parts. Most books lock you in. In some ways, having invited you through its doors, THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG locks you out, an experience which replicates the tensions between absence and presence it explores. There isn’t a story here, exactly; only a universe of intersecting characters, the great big bustling world on a postage stamp.
THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG was the 2008 winner of the BLATT Best Novel award. Bard Cole is a contributor to LIFE AS WE SHOW IT: WRITING ON FILM (City Lights, June 2009). The above photo was taken by Charles Van Shaick, a portion of whose glass plates appeared in Wisconsin Death Trip.
Last summer, LIFE AS WE SHOW IT contributor Richard Grayson, whose story in the anthology is called "The Forgotten Movie Screens of Broward County", published a collection of his diaries, Summer in Brooklyn, 1969-1975. The following are excerpts which detail his trips to the movie theater during that time.
Monday, August 11, 1969
I saw "Goodbye Columbus" & thought it was very good. The theater was pretty crowded. The wedding scenes in the movie were so true to life. I think the message of the film is to decide for yourself what is right and what is not. But what if you're like Brenda Patimkin or me, and aren't sure?
Saturday, July 11, 1970
A hot, humid day. Johnny was up early & went for drum lessons. Marc & I woke later & together we went to the Brook to see Boys in the Band. It depressed him altho he admitted it was great, & I have to confess I didn't come out of the theater feeling very happy, either.
Thursday, August 13, 1970
After lunch, I went to the Marine to see The Games, a surprisingly good movie about Olympic marathon runners - something that looks very exciting. I felt enormously happy this evening, for no apparent reason.
Thursday, August 20, 1970
I drove to Korvette's on Bay Parkway & bought 2 hardcover books. One was The Lord Won't Mind by Gordon Merrick, a straight-forward novel of a lasting homosexual relationship. I think its candor upset me. I went to the Rugby to see Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice, which I thought was a funny story of American morality today.
Thursday, June 10, 1971
We went to the Marine & saw a double feature: Little Murders, a wild movie about violence & feelings in the city, based on the Feiffer play, & Making It, about a high school kid's sexual adventures. Shelli was upset by the abortion scene in the last movie - she may take the pill after all.
Friday, June 18, 1971
Shelli came soon after, bringing a card that said "thank you for being you." When I told her about Dr. Wouk telling me to date other girls, she dialed his number & shouted "Pig!" into the phone. She was upset, & as the three of us went to Kings Plaza & looked around, both she & Avis tried to convince me that Dr. Wouk is a nut. I'm very confused at the moment. We went to the movies to see Summer of '42, a pretty good film about a teenage boy's growing up during World War II. Avis took the bus home, & Shelli & I came back to my house.
Wednesday, July 28, 1971
I was talking with Robert, Laura & Stanley about the newly named Chancellor of CUNY, Robert Kibbee - no one knows much about him except that he's Guy Kibbee's son.
Sunday, June 25, 1972
It was raining out - naturally - when I got up. After breakfast, I drove into Manhattan (I almost smashed up the car when I skidded wildly on the Brooklyn Bridge). I parked on E. 64th St. & 2nd Ave. & went into the Beekman Theater to see Portnoy's Complaint. It was really a bad movie, conveying none of the bitter comic anguish of the novel, yet leaving in all the tawdry stupidity. I did like Karen Black as The Monkey, tho.
Tuesday, July 4, 1972
Early today, right after breakfast, I drove into the city - the traffic was fairly light. I parked at Third Ave. & 58th St. & first did some shopping for herbs. Then I got in line at the Sutton Theater & went in to see The Candidate. It was superb, the best film I've ever seen about contemporary American liberal/media politics. Robert Redford was great as the young Democratic liberal & Don Porter came over well as his conservative Republican opponent. I drove back into Brooklyn & enjoyed a burger with smothered onions at the counter of Junior's.
Tuesday, August 1, 1972
Stanley dropped by LaGuardia this afternoon. He still spends most of his time seeing old movies, reading the Voice, the Times & the N.Y. Review of Books & dropping witticisms. What a waste.
Thursday, August 10, 1972
I never could get in touch with Debbie to make things definite about tonight. So, on the spur of the moment, Marc & I decided to go to the movies. We went to the Georgetowne to see The Graduate. I enjoyed it, altho it seems a bit dated now. It was probably just my imagination, but as we were going out, in the dark, I thought I saw Jerry & a girl sitting down. I'm sure I'm wrong - but it did look like him.
Thursday, June 7, 1973
5 PM. I feel a bit like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate: for the past few days I've been loafing by the pool, getting a sunburn, indulging myself - but I'm not really happy doing that. I have to keep moving, get started on some new goal.
I went to bed early last night & was nearly comatose for 12 hours. This morning I stopped by the college for a minute - yes, it's hard to break away - it was deserted. So I drove uptown to see a movie with my student discount pass: Bogdonovich's Paper Moon, a lovely, old-fashioned kind of picture about the 30s. I can see how easy it is for people like Stanley to escape into celluloid.
Monday, June 26, 1973
Before class, Charles showed us the movie he'd made. It really came out well & I enjoyed it, altho I wince when I see myself on the screen. He'd showed it to Prof. Giuriceo & she'd given him an A- for it; Charles has finally graduated & wants to drop those math courses he's taking.
Wednesday, July 18, 1973
Ronna & I saw Slaughterhouse-Five last night, where the Tralfamadorian tells Billy Pilgrim, "A pleasant way to spend eternity is to concentrate on the good moments and forget the bad ones." It sounds fine, but the bad moments can keep recurring out of habit, & maybe the reason I'm in therapy is to get at those bad moments, the first ones - but there'll always be bad moments, anyway. So remembering the good: I picked up Ronna at 7:30 last night, & she was punctual & looked terrific.
We went to the Quad in the city, & Ronna enjoyed the film. She's tired of working at the insurance company, but they would like to keep her on for the whole summer. It was an entirely pleasant evening.
Wednesday, August 15, 1973
Ronna finally came out, apologized for being late, & coldly said goodbye to the others. She wore a yellow danskin top & a scarf, & altho she'd cleaned off her eyes, I could tell her mascara had been running. In the car, I told her if she didn't want to go to the movies, we didn't have to, but she said she would tell me about it before we got to Georgetowne. It was a minor fracas, involving Harold's "immaturity" & how he said that she couldn't break up him & her mother no matter what. Ronna said she can't live with them after they're married, so she'll apply to grad schools out of town. We sat thru "Blume in Love," which I thoroughly enjoyed. Afterwards I held Ronna around the waist as we walked to my car as it was drizzling. She was hungry, so we went to the McDonald's in Rockaway near the Cross Bay Bridge & had burgers & cokes. She decided she'd straighten things out with her mother during the trip, & at her house, I hugged her tightly & wished her a good time.
Thursday, August 30, 1973
While Mom was giving Billy something to eat, Ronna told me about me about last night. She made Carl dinner, & then, in Billy's bedroom, told him about me. He said that he was seeing a girl, too (altho Ronna didn't quite believe him) & said he wanted to take her to the movies anyway. Just before they got to Kings Plaza, Ronna felt guilty & Carl got angry - "just the way Ivan did," she said. (Apparently I get angry in a somewhat different way.) Finally they did go in to the theater. At the end of the evening, he told her, "Thanks anyway," so she doesn't think she'll be hearing from him anymore.
Thursday, June 22, 1974
I had met some of Barbara's girlfriends in the hospital & I remembered her friend Tom from seeing him in Arsenic & Old Lace & meeting him when we saw Women in Love at BC. "That was good," Tom said, & I replied, "Seeing the movie or meeting me?" & after that, we got along really well. My guess is he's definitely gay or at least bisexual.
Wednesday, July 17, 1974
I spotted Barbara's friend Tom going out of the subway & caught up with him. He was coming from his new job at Warner Bros. in Manhattan & had to eat before a 6PM class, so I joined him in McDonald's. We talked so much, discovering that we have a lot in common: he has sinusitis, liked Cries & Whispers & Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie.
Wednesday, June 11, 1975
I called Vito today & we had a nice chat. He said it's now a year since his stay in the hospital & he ventured that if he ever got the idea to commit suicide, he'd do it by constipating himself to death. He'll be going to summer school at BC when the graduate session begins. Right now he's movie-hopping, at least until the end of the week when the Rugoff passes run out. Vito asked me if I wanted to go with him to the premiere of Nashville today, but I spent my discount last night when I saw Monty Python & the Holy Grail at Cinema I - it was fairly amusing.
Thursday, August 12, 1975
Yesterday, while Gary was driving me home from St. John's, I spotted Stanley walking up Flatlands Avenue. Stanley stuck to the diet & he's slimmed down, but it still hasn't changed his life; he still leads an existence in limbo, measuring out his life with film screenings. Who am I to judge Stanley?
Tuesday, August 27, 1975
I spoke to Ronna last night, & she told me about the wedding on Sunday & how nice it was; I'm sure she made a beautiful bridesmaid. She said she felt somewhat let down afterwards, which is understandable. Ronna was also saying goodbye, for she & her family were leaving for a week on Cape Cod today. She was intending to take a bus back next Saturday because she had promised Susan weeks ago that she'd go with her to see Daisy Miller & the film would be coming to the Carnegie Hall Cinema this weekend (for one day only); of course Susan was holding Ronna to her promise.
Ronna was kind of upset about it, & her mother thought she was being stupid to come back. I couldn't help putting my two cents in & I told Ronna, "Of course, you know I'd advise selfishness..." No one but Ronna would interrupt a lovely vacation to see a movie (a bad one, no less) with Susan. I think my words had some effect on her - I told her to imagine how she would feel on that bus trip back - for she said was going to call Susan & try to get out of it. Daisy Miller definitely isn’t worth it.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Recently, I asked Bard Cole, one of the contributors to LIFE AS WE SHOW IT: WRITING ON FILM (City Lights, June 2009), to talk about the last five movies he watched, interested to see what his observations would be. So much of the anthology is about exploring the way each individual engages uniquely with the screen, unlocking networks of personal memory and perception through the keyhole of someone else's imagination. There's a universe there in each film. So which planet is Bard on? I leave it to you:
1. Tell No One
A good old fashioned complicated paranoid thriller, a contemporary French Hitchcock story. The best thing was how it managed to maintain a familiar, down-to-earth sense of normal people doing the normal things of life, including having jobs and stuff, while weird and sometimes frightening, violent, and surprising things happened. It was an action plot without an action hero. I also enjoy being the person who can figure out twists and few movies are actually challenging in this department. I also like the way it depicted violence. It made violence look like it hurts, and when certain things (a character shot point blank in the head) could only be gratuitous, it neatly avoided them.
2. Little Dorritt
At ten hours more of a miniseries than a movie but pretty amazing and possibly better than the Charles Dickens novel itself. Amy Dorritt comes off not as a goody goody but as the only reasonably rational person, often perplexed, in the center of a swirling hoarde of idiots who are unduly sensitive to how they think they are perceived. Plus, the actor who played John Chivery, the turnkey's son in unrequited love with Amy, is super cute in a goofy jug-eared English way and I just learned thanks to Wikipedia that he (Russell Tovey) is openly gay... which matters cos obviously I have a chance now, right? It makes me glad I gave up reading the book before I had hit any of the most interesting twists. The evil villain is regrettable though, and somewhat pointless too, for all the space he occupies.
3. Taxi Driver
Maybe when you've gone so long without seeing a movie that is this talked about, this referenced, you just shouldn't see it. I liked some of the very luridly 1950s Hollywood transitions but it felt very distanced, very remote from people or details and it just never really clicked for me -- I read that some people debate whether Travis Bickle really is a vet or if he's lying or delusional when he says he is... but I don't get why anyone cares. What would be at stake if he was or wasn't? It's just pointless analysis. I feel this is a straight boy movie. Cybill Shepherd and Jodie Foster are amazing though, as is 1970s New York.
4. The Reivers
Diane Ladd appears as a Memphis whore who is late to the dinner table and is compelled by the brothel owner to put 25 cents into the house box for her misdeed. The quarter materialized from underneath her corset-like garment. This would be one of the most compelling Faulkner screen adaptations if it wasn't for the very 1969 layer of hokey Hollywood Americana smarm which primarily affects the color, lighting, costuming, and incidental music, although it also affects one of the lead actors who is, admittedly, trying to portray a black man imagined by William Faulkner, which is something no one in Hollywood was really prepared to conceptualize, even in 1969. Steve McQueen is good but why does he have no sex appeal at all, I wonder? Is it just me?
5. Grey Gardens
As young blond Little Edie, Drew Barrymore looks a lot like my twelve-year-old niece, feature-wise. It's pretty amazing for a movie which requires flawless impersonation of a person's voice, face, mannerisms etc, not just a decent evocation like most actors who are playing real historical people, even though the biggest historical revelation here is that Edie suffered from alopecia triggered by stress. This movie explains why I have found it safest to live more than two hundred miles from my mother, I think, because the house I grew up in could easily become Grey Gardens. This is not a straight boy movie. In some ways I liked the trailer better but it was a nice event.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Some of the contributors to the LIFE AS WE SHOW IT anthology have pretty fantastic web blogs. Case in point, Dodie Bellamy, whose story in the anthology, "Phone Home", relates the experience of her mother's illness to life and death issues in the movie "ET", finding deep pockets of meaning and identification.
Contributor Donal Mosher is a writer, photographer, and filmmaker living in Portland, Oregon. Ghost Type has recorded the impressions of his cross-country travels since 2007, zeroing in on forgotten detail and people unaware of meaning anything to anyone at any given point in time.
In "The Victor Salva School of Film Theory", LIFE AS WE SHOW IT contributor Bard Cole explores the way film looks at its subjects, reflecting the collective "intangible desires" of director and audience. Bard is the author of the fiction collection BRIEFLY TOLD LIVES, and the recipient of the 2008 BLATT Book Award for THIS IS WHERE MY LIFE WENT WRONG. He edits a literary anthology online at sixbrickspress.com and recently interviewed Sarah Schulman for his blog Advance Uncorrected Proof
Contributor Lidia Yuknavitch is the author of three collections of short fiction and a book of criticism. "Outtakes", her story in LIFE AS WE SHOW IT, is excerpted from her collection called REAL TO REEL.