Lost in the Movies: February 2020

February 2020 Patreon podcasts: LOST IN TWIN PEAKS #13 - Season 2 Episode 5 and LOST IN THE MOVIES #64 - Twin Peaks Cinema: Baraboo (+ Return of the Secaucus Seven, Twin Peaks Reflections: Blackie, Audrey, Nadine, Horne's Department Store, Jacques' apartment, Dr. Jacoby's tapes/Part 5 & more)


After last month's epic, eleven-hour episode (split into many parts), my February podcast is a much simpler affair. Clocking in at less than an hour, it centers on what is, in turn, a simple film: Mary Sweeney's independent drama Baraboo, set in a small town around the turn of the last decade. As a key Lynch collaborator from the killer's reveal episode of Twin Peaks to Mulholland Drive (and most relevantly on The Straight Story), the writer/editor's voice is interesting to unpack - but there are also surprising connections to season three, which she was not involved with. Meanwhile my "sixties reunion" reading series continues with another quiet rural independent film (in this case Return of the Secaucus Seven), and my Lost in Twin Peaks rewatch reaches one of the most underrated episodes of season two.







Podcast Line-Ups for...

Mad Men - "The Grown Ups" (season 3, episode 12)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of season three. Later seasons will be covered at another time. I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on November 1, 2009/written by Brett Johnson, Matthew Weiner; directed by Barbet Schroeder): I stand corrected. The penultimate episode of season 2 does depict the murder, or rather the shocked characters' reaction to the murder, of President John F. Kennedy in Dallas, Texas on November 22, 1963. Of course it depicts much more as well. The event and its fallout are masterfully presented in fragments, cutting quickly between different characters as they discover the news. The heat has been cranked up in the office a day after everyone bundled in overcoats and gloves, a toggle of extreme temperatures to match the caterwauling mood of the moment. Harry and Pete blithely talk shop, ignoring the bulletin on the set behind them until the rest of the office bursts in; a sweaty Don exits Lane's office to hear every phone in the office ringing off the hook as the secretaries huddle together in horror; a shaken Betty crouches on the couch, hearing the first rumors of the president's demise at the hospital just as a breathless Carla arrives with the children in tow; and most memorably, Duck unplugs the TV so he can enjoy a hotel room tryst with Peggy before tuning back in just in time to see Walter Cronkite remove his glasses and deliver the final confirmation.

As hinted way back in episode 2, Margaret's wedding is set for the day after the assassination. Half the party doesn't show up, and at least a dozen of those who do - including the much-loathed stepmother of the bride - gather in the kitchen to watch Lee Harvey Oswald's press conference (we'll witness his shooting the next day through Betty's eyes as she leaps from the couch and shrieks). Considering Margaret's distress leading up to the event (even before disaster strikes), she takes it fairly well but Roger drinks up a storm and reaches out to Joan that night, calling her while Jane dozes off behind him. Perhaps the most significant incidents of the wedding involve Betty: she gazes at Henry, an unexpected guest when he arrives with his daughter (and expresses relief when she overhears their relation); said daughter notices Henry's wandering gaze on the dance floor and asks him why he keeps looking at that woman; and perhaps most importantly the Drapers kiss, an emotionless locking of lips which confirms what Betty has been suspecting for a while. She no longer loves her husband. Henry, on the other hand, is completely smitten with Betty, even proposing to her when they meet for a few minutes in a back parking lot.

Finally, on the eve of the funeral, Betty tells Don the truth. As usual, he can't handle this, attempting to respond with the same mix of bland reassurance and stoic obstinacy that looks increasingly hollow during these whirlwind days of late November. Don wanders through the gloomy home like a restless spirit - it's overcast outside while the lights are off inside but the effect reflects inner life as much as environmental conditions: Schroeder does a marvelous job calling back to the expressionist use of lighting and color in fifties/sixties melodrama. During the funeral, the national day of mourning in which no one is working, Mad Men's two lonely leads head to the office. Peggy is distressed by her roommate's impromptu "Jackie consolation" letter-writing party and her mother's incessant, domineering tears and prayers; Don can't speak to what drives him out of the house but sits in his room, a workplace as dark as his home has become, to drink and ponder the future.

My Response:

Daguerréotypes


An old woman, with a striking pinched face that smiles warmly when it isn't lost in a melancholy fog, wanders to the door of her husband's perfume shop and pauses. He comments, offscreen, that this often happens just after sunset: she always starts to leave without actually committing to leaving. She is not alone in that spirit, even if she dramatizes it more boldly than most. So much of this film about small business on a Parisian avenue, a documentary dominated by long stretches of purely observational technique, seems caught between the dimness of the world outside and the absorption of the world inside. When the film inquires about the shopkeepers' sleeping patterns, the petite bourgeois standard-bearers acknowledge that even their dreams are filled with work: the day-to-day routines and sturdy, functional environments of their workplaces are cocoons which could be - and perhaps occasionally are - suffocating, but are more often comforting. The films of Agnès Varda are always exploratory, frequently in a globe-trotting or at least nation-spanning manner, but Daguerréotypes' world is small and close at hand, in more ways than one.

Mad Men - "The Gypsy and the Hobo" (season 3, episode 11)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of season three. Later seasons will be covered at another time. I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on October 25, 2009/written by Marti Noxon, Cathryn Humphris, Matthew Weiner; directed by Jennifer Getzinger): While Betty attends to her father's estate she detains his lawyer for a private consultation. She explains what she's found out about Don (she gleaned more than I initially realized) and asks if they can divorce; but in New York state in 1963 she has to prove infidelity in a court of law and if she doesn't, he'll get everything: the money and the kids. When Betty confronts Don later, she doesn't know that he's planning a romantic getaway with Suzanne - indeed, thinking no one was home and that Don has just returned to pick something up, the schoolteacher is waiting patiently, crouched down in the passenger seat of his Cadillac across the street. She'll stay there into nightfall at which point she'll glumly sneak away, realizing that not only their vacation but probably their affair has suddenly ended. Inside the house, Betty firmly and pointedly extracts all the information she's seeking from her husband: how he took the Draper name, who Anna is and why he bought her a house, his parents and stepparents' fates, and finally the suicide of Adam. Don weeps - maybe the first time she's ever seen him so broken - and she comforts him, but neither one can say what all of this means going forward.

Other histories haunt characters in "The Gypsy and the Hobo"; Roger reunites with his old flame Annabelle Mathis (Mary Page Keller), now a widow running her father's dogfood business and trying to redeem the brand after its use of horsemeat garnered a scandal in the press. Sterling Cooper insists that she can't restore the company's good name at this point, and she eventually takes her business elsewhere - but not before a couple rendezvous with Roger. Over dinner, she recalls a whirlwind Casablanca-esque romance conducted during the interwar years while he remembers heartbreak and old drama not worth digging up again. Finally, at the office the next day they get to the point. "You were the one," she coos wistfully. Matter-of-fact, but not without sympathy, Roger simply reports, "You weren't." Was Joan? She also comes back into contact with Roger while looking for a job, and their repartee is warm if (mostly) professional. Turns out Joan won't need that job after all; when she smashes a vase into the head of the insufferably self-pitying, dismissive Greg she apparently knocks some sense into him. When he comes home the next day he apologizes. He also reveals an epiphany: he's joined the Army, where he can still be a surgeon and rely on a steady income. It's unlikely he'll have to go overseas to, say, West Germany or Vietnam "if that's still going on." Maybe she didn't knock enough sense into him after all.

My Response:

Her (The Unseen 2013)


"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time. The list, which moves backwards in time, is based on the highest-ranked film I've never seen each year on Letterboxd (as of April 2018). Her was #1 for 2013.

The Story: Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) is a lonely, fairly anonymous Everyman absorbed with technology in a Los Angeles some unspecified time in the near-future: through a wireless earpiece attached to his handheld device that responds to voice commands and streams visual material when necessary, he listens to emails and news, projects a holograph of a video game played with hand motions, and keeps himself busy in bed by messaging other horny users looking for a quick-fix verbal hook-up. There is one characteristic that distinguishes Theodore: he is a sensitive, empathetic writer who can effortlessly slip into the voices of both men and women who want letters composed to their loved ones (which keeps him gainfully employed for a company that churns out such material). One day, intrigued by a new product, Theodore purchases an advanced operating system that uses artificial intelligence to provide a personal assistant. As the system is uploaded and personalized onto his computer, he is prompted with a few questions and almost absentmindedly says he'd like the voice to be female, then briefly summarizes his relationship to his own mother. And then, just like that, a new consciousness is born, introducing herself as Samantha (Scarlett Johansson).

Theodore and Samantha hit it off right away. He is bemused by her alert responsiveness, apparent good humor and quirky sense of self-discovery, and a bit beguiled by her voice as well as the manner it conveys. Their conversation easily slips between formal management, friendly banter, and, slowly, something more intimate. They "have sex" - he even brings her to orgasm! - and share sadness as well as happiness while he explains his impending divorce from Catherine Klausen (Rooney Mara); she feels ashamed for not understanding what it's like to lose someone you love. Timidly at first, Theodore lets the people around him - co-workers like Paul (Chris Pratt) and friends like Amy (Amy Adams), who is going through her own marital difficulties - know that his girlfriend is an OS. Many take it well, but Catherine, whom he meets to finalize their divorce, explodes with indignation upon discovering that he's found consolation in a docile machine which lacks, according to her, emotional complexity. And Theodore must make a decision. Is Samantha an easy out for him, an artificial means to soothe his own insecurities and satisfy his immature urges? Or is she more than that, an autonomous intelligence at least as sensitive and supple as his, with all of the emotional baggage that comes with that? And, a third option that neither of them consider at first: Is Samantha not only more than that, but much more than Theodore himself, a consciousness whose bounds go far beyond mortal frailty and limited neural capabilities, so that it's she, not he, who may have to move on?

The Context:

Mad Men - "The Color Blue" (season 3, episode 10)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of season three. Later seasons will be covered at another time. I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on October 18, 2009/written by Kater Gordon, Matthew Weiner; directed by Michael Uppendahl): Paul's frustration with Peggy builds as she swoops in to tweak every idea he has, giving it the polish that makes it seem like her brainchild instead of his. He considers Peggy Don's favorite - much to her surprise - and is determined to out-think her on a Western Union campaign. Unfortunately, he forgets his brilliant concept after a night's sleep and a hangover, mordantly sharing a Chinese saying with Peggy: "The faintest ink is better than the best memory." Even this slight exchange reproduces the familiar phenomenon, as an incredulous Paul can only watch - Peggy converts Paul's offhand expression into a brilliant hook for the "telephone vs. telegram" campaign. Of course, this phone vs. written document dynamic plays out in other ways throughout "The Color Blue." The Drapers receive a mysterious call one night encouraging Betty and Don to wonder if their respective lovers are the silent party (both Suzanne and Henry deny it). Meanwhile, if writing preserves the past it isn't always for good. Betty finds Don's key carelessly hidden in his laundry, and opens a bureau drawer to discover his box of mementos. I doubt she's anywhere close to figuring out who Dick Whitman is, but she's certainly struck by Don's divorce papers. She stays up late with the shoebox, but Don never comes home. He's taken to spending every evening with Suzanne, and on this particular evening he's driving her epileptic brother Danny (Marshall Allman) to a new job in Bedford, Massachusetts - at least until Danny convinces Don to let him exit the car and wander off into the darkness. Stymied by this unbelievable twist of fate, Betty never mentions her discovery to him, instead sitting silently by his side as a troubled presence at Sterling Cooper's 40th anniversary bash. After a decade of marriage, does she know him at all?

My Response:

January 2020 Patreon podcasts: LOST IN TWIN PEAKS #12 - Season 2 Episode 4 and LOST IN THE MOVIES #63 - The Longest One Yet w/ Bernie 2020 endorsement, Class violence in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Irishman, Joker, Parasite & Twin Peaks Cinema: What Did Jack Do?, Wiseguy, Twin Peaks directors' films (Halloweentown, Zelly & Me, Now and Then, The Escape Artist, The Wizard, Frances, Pay the Ghost, Heaven, After Dark My Sweet, Code Name: Emerald, Losing Isaiah & Matthew Blackheart: Monster Smasher + Midsommar, Shin Godzilla, Ah Wilderness, My Brilliant Career, listener feedback, podcast recommendations, the 60s in the 80s, Twin Peaks Reflections: Bobby, Einar, the Log Lady, the Log Lady's and Jacques' cabins, The Ghostwood Deal/Part 1 & much, much, much, much more)


A year ago, I published my longest podcast episode, one so long I had to divide it into three parts. As 2020 kicks off, I've definitely topped myself. The bulk of Episode 63 not only needed to be divided into six episodes, it also spawned another six mini-episodes' worth of podcast recommendations. This is catch-up for the past nine months, as I gather feedback I've received, podcasts I've listened to, films I've watched, and political events I've observed. And that's not even getting to the main course: my most sprawling "Twin Peaks Cinema" study incorporating a last-minute Lynch short addition, an old show that turned out to be worth an entry of its own, and a dozen capsules to observe the work of each Twin Peaks episode director (save Tim Hunter, featured last month, as well as David Lynch and Mark Frost). Usually I try to dig a little deeper into each episode in this round-up, but there's so much here already I'll trust the titles to do the talking.

Here are all the parts, illustrated and described...

Episode 63A
(Intro/Path to Journey Through Twin Peaks, Twin Peaks Reflections: Bobby, Einar, the Log Lady + her cabin, Jacques' cabin, the Ghostwood Deal/Part 1 & more)

Episode 63B
Twin Peaks cinema - What Did Jack Do?/Wiseguy's Lynchboro arc & Twin Peaks directors' films (Halloweentown, Zelly & Me, Now and Then, The Escape Artist, The Wizard, Frances, Pay the Ghost, Heaven, After Dark My Sweet, Code Name: Emerald, Losing Isaiah, Matthew Blackheart: Monster Smasher & more)

Episode 63C
Media Journal - Class violence in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Irishman, Joker & Parasite (+ more capsules on Midsommar, Shin Godzilla & the original Godzilla, Ah Wilderness, My Brilliant Career, Knock Down the House, Ad Astra, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, Won't You Be Me Neighbor?, The American Experience: Walt Disney, Glory, Space Men, Seven Days in May, Adopt a Highway, The Kominsky Method, Living With Yourself, Schitt's Creek & much more)

Episode 63D
Listener feedback, part 1 (Lost Highway, Lynch in Twin Peaks season 1, ordinary/mythological character connections, "primal scene" locations, Twin Peaks as Laura's Projection & more)

Episode 63E
Listener feedback, part 2 (Twin Peaks season 3 as Laura's psychodrama, Veronica Mars, Neon Genesis Evangelion & more)

Episode 63F
Endorsing Bernie 2020 (+ the 60s in 80s media, podcast recommendations, 2019 politics - campaigns, Bolivia, UK election, Iran & more)














Podcast Line-ups for...

Mad Men - "Wee Small Hours" (season 3, episode 9)


Welcome to my viewing diary for Mad Men. Every Monday I will review another episode of season three. Later seasons will be covered at another time. I have never seen this series before so there will be NO spoilers.

Story (aired on October 11, 2009/written by Dahvi Waller, Matthew Weiner; directed by Scott Hornbacher): The characters of Mad Men are reaching either an apotheosis or a freefall, and most of them are recognizing that they can't really tell the difference. Don's whirlwind, largely one-sided bromance with Connie Hilton is wrecking as much as it's building; certainly Don's once-cool demeanor with subordinates has become harsh and surly, as he hurls blame that begins to sound like petty self-protection (born from deep insecurity). Connie expresses wounded disappointment when Don's proposed campaign - "It's Hilton in every language" - feels (literally) too grounded for the old mogul, who wants to (again, literally!) shoot for the moon. If Don thought momentarily that Connie found an equal behind that bar, it's increasingly clear that he wants Don to be a plaything whose resources he can exploit, not a respected junior partner in developing the brand. The Hilton/Draper dynamic is more father/son than even big/little brother, very much tinged by Connie's emotional devotion. It seems clearer than ever that Connie's remarks about an "involvement," "substantial needs," and what to do when "my eye begins to wander" had more to do with his infatuation with Don than with some romantic affair.

A more literal male infatuation develops between Sal and Lee Garner, Jr., the Lucky Strike executive we met back in the series premiere. At that time Lee and his father appeared to be conventionally macho peas in a pod but when he's left alone in an editing suite with Sal, we learn his secret. Lee gropes Sal, who spurns his overtures. A disgruntled and perpetually drunken Lee calls Harry to demand that Sal be removed. Harry chokes, Lee storms out of a meeting when Sal is still present, Roger summarily fires Sal, and Don - knowing much more about Sal's private life than anyone else at Sterling Cooper - confirms rather than reverses Roger's decision. "You people," he grumbles, breaking Sal's heart before offering a handshake and a firm, "I think you know it has to be this way." At the end of the episode, in a phone booth surrounded by hustlers, Sal calls his wife to tell her he's working late and won't be home tonight. Don and Betty also give consideration to betraying their wedding vows, with only Don - as always - taking the plunge. He's been leaving for work early each morning and running into Miss Farrell who goes for a morning jog in the dark. Finally one night he lies to Betty, saying that Connie has called him back to the city before driving to Miss Farrell's in-law apartment instead. After hesitating, she accepts his embraces. Betty, on the other hand, ultimately demures. She begins writing letters to Henry, receives a visit from him (glimpsed by a very uncomfortable Carla), and even holds a Rockefeller fundraiser in her home as both a cover story and an opportunity to see him again (he sends another adviser, much to her disappointment). Finally she goes to his office and he locks the door but she can't go through with the fling: "It's too tawdry," she complains. I doubt she'll feel that way for long.

My Response:

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