Lost in the Movies: October 2023

63 Up


The ninth entry of the Up documentary series finds itself - if not necessarily its subjects - hovering in a place of uncertainty. For fifty-five years, director Michael Apted at least attempted to interview fourteen British individuals (although a few declined to participate in certain entries) beginning when they were schoolchildren with the intended one-off 7 Up! - which Apted worked on under the direction of Paul Almond for a BBC program. Heading into 63 Up, I expected a more melancholy meditation on aging, loss, and disappointment although I'm not sure why. After all, these people are not quite elderly yet - many of them are still working even if they discuss imminent retirement, several have children still living at home, and more than a few mention parents who died only very recently or who are still alive in their eighties and nineties. There will, inevitably, be an end of the road for the entire ensemble but if they are closer now to that end than their beginning there is still a ways to go. Perhaps my anticipation stemmed from vague knowledge of the exceptions to that general case: two participants have passed away by now (one is mentioned in the film itself, the other shown in ill health). Above all, however, I think it was Apted's own passing which informed my initial impression. More than anything else going forward, the absence of the series' guiding hand casts doubt upon future films.

Sight & Sound #14 Stalker (LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #60)



For the last entry in my my Sight & Sound podcast miniseries, chance - and the directors who placed this film much higher than the critics - delivered me the perfect conclusion. Stalker (1979) has been something I've wanted to discuss for years but never found the opportunity...until now. Andrei Tarkovsky's mesmerizing, maddening high art sci-fi philosophical meditation provides plenty of material to consider, but I was most fascinated by those very tensions within its approach. Conveying emotional experiences via visionary sound/image montages at times, and tearing into blunt, direct intellectual debates at others (and sometimes fusing the two), Stalker is enriched by its awareness of what the form is capable of and what it should dance around. Among the subjects I explore: Tarkovsky's frustrations with his environment, the shifting relationships of the three main characters, the concept of the Zone in popular culture, and the significance of the daughter who bookends the movie. This concludes a series which also included Jeanne Dielman, Beau Travail, Close-Up, and Sunrise and I'm also wrapping up this podcast feed and my public film writing/podcasting between with this episode and an essay going up at the same time - although Patreon and Twin Peaks work (and possibly some non-Peaks videos) will continue. I hope you enjoyed the show!


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Wonders of the Past and Present: Conversation w/ Wonders in the Dark's Sam Juliano, author of Paradise Atop the Hudson & Irish Jesus of Fairview (podcast)




The history of Sam Juliano's film (and wider arts) website Wonders in the Dark dovetails almost perfectly with my own. I launched The Dancing Image (the original incarnation of Lost in the Movies) in July 2008 while Wonders kicked off two months later in September. But Sam's appreciation of and engagement with the cinema began much earlier. In this conversation, we begin by discussing Sam's seventies and eighties cinephilia as well as his connection with his British complementary opposite Allan Fish whose decades countdowns launched a fruitful collaboration. (Sadly, an extended chat about Allan's persona and approach got lost in the midst of Zoom technical difficulties.) From there, we explore Sam's new novels Paradise Atop the Hudson and Irish Jesus of Fairview, which mix slice-of-life memoiristic details, melodramatic explorations of violent bullying, and eccentric navigations of cultural dynamics and gender presentations. Finally, we wrap up with a look at this current year and the recent era anchored by Sam's recent viewings and Oscar predictions. As I conclude my public film discussions on this site, this conversation provided a great opportunity to bring things full circle.


LINKS



(future polls appear under weekly Monday Morning Diaries)

(& list of "Fish Obscuros")

Reaching the Finish Line for Public Film Writing/Podcasts


Early next week, I will share three or four new public pieces - an essay, a podcast, a conversation, perhaps a video montage - alongside some other announcements or teasers. These will serve as a farewell to the era of non-Twin Peaks (and perhaps non-Citizen Kane) public film/TV commentary on this website...

For over three years, I've been following a very particular schedule on this site, presenting written film analyses on Wednesdays, weekly or monthly public podcasts on Thursdays, status updates or other random posts on Fridays, Lost in Twin Peaks illustrated companions on Saturdays, Patreon cross-posts on Sundays, TV viewing diaries on Mondays, and video essays on Tuesdays. Out of necessity, I am abandoning this approach in the final days of October because the posts I hoped would be up this past Wednesday and Thursday didn't make it in time and I don't want to drag this process into November. I believe I can have the major holdouts - a conversation with blogger/author Sam Juliano, a written review of the documentary 63 Up, and my final Sight & Sound miniseries podcast episode on Andrei Tarkovsky's Stalker - ready by October 31. I also want to record a YouTube message about the Journey videos and other work (essentially reiterating what I'm laying out here but for the platform where the most people find and follow me).

For a long time, I've seen my November 1 birthday as a threshold for my online work, a deadline to wrap things up and shift toward a new approach. Initially I thought this would include concluding my three major Twin Peaks projects: the public presentation of my Lost in Twin Peaks podcast; the last thirty entries of my TWIN PEAKS Character Series; and of course Part 6 of my video series Journey Through Twin Peaks. I finally realized a few months ago that even if I devoted every possible hour to them I wouldn't come anywhere close to finishing them in October. So my goal narrowed to ending my public film commentary after fifteen years (future reviews and most other reflections will be reserved for patrons) so that from November onward, I could focus on finishing those Peaks projects before moving on to other ambitions. However, even this more limited goal may be slightly compromised since the remaining chapters of the Mirrors of Kane video series should be shared with the public too, fulfilling the promise I made back in 2016; like those Peaks projects, Mirrors has been years in the works.

By the end of October, I would also love to tackle a long-brewing avant-garde video montage idea involving Watership Down and Brideshead Revisited or, if that doesn't gel, maybe another Mirrors of Kane chapter involving Bernstein; wouldn't his wistful ferry speech provide a wonderful note on which to end this period? Unfortunately, this goal seems unlikely to be reached given my busy on- and offline schedule this weekend and early next week, especially, and unexpectedly if beneficially in other ways, the offline schedule. Meanwhile on Patreon, the Episode 100 finale of my patron podcast (composed of a dozen films in focus which have already been previewed for a higher tier) has long been completed but I've been waiting to release it until everything else has been published for the month. Additionally, I'd like to offer a couple more rewards just for patrons: a character study for the $1/month tier and an exclusive film review for the $5/month tier. Going forward, those will probably be the regular monthly rewards for those tiers (with back halves of bonus Twin Peaks Conversations sometimes replacing the film review for $5/month patrons) and I'll record a new Patreon welcome video reflecting this as well.

So far nothing has really worked out as expected, but maybe I can finally hit the target with these last offerings. Thanks for hanging in there and I hope you enjoy the end of October with me.



Sight & Sound #11 Sunrise (LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #59)



Following my coverage of Jeanne Dielman, Beau Travail, and Close-Up, Sunrise is the first film in my Sight & Sound podcast miniseries that I saw before this particular project; however, in all these years of online work I've never discussed it in depth. The F.W. Murnau-directed silent film is famous as, among other things, arguably the first real Best Picture winner at the Oscars (it won a one-time-only "Unique and Artistic Picture" award alongside Wings' canonized victory for "Outstanding Picture"). It's been a mainstay on the Sight & Sound list for decades although 2022 saw it slip slightly from its 2012 peak at #5. The story of a husband (George O'Brien) considering the murder of his wife (Janet Gaynor) because he's under the sway of a diabolical "Woman from the City" (Margaret Livingston), Sunrise makes several unexpected and enthralling swerves in narrative, tone, and character. How in the world does a brooding melodrama set in a rural village find time for a drunken pig on the floor of an urban Jazz Age nightclub dance floor?! I love the film - and Murnau's work generally - for its willingness to wander, but of course Sunrise's appeal goes far beyond the narrative: this is just an absolutely gorgeous film to look at. Re-visiting this movie takes me back to the early days of this site, when I covered silent cinema with much more frequency than in recent years. While the film hails from an era that's now a century past, it's fascinating to consider how close it is to the present - as I point out on the podcast, the three central actors lived into the mid-eighties, all dying within a year of one another and (just barely) within my own lifetime.


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The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (The Unseen 2008)


"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time (spoilers are discussed, including for Twin Peaks and Forrest Gump). 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). The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was #5 for 2008.

The Story: "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." The famous conclusion of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby was literalized by the same author three years in the past (how appropriate) with his 1922 short story The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. And David Fincher's cinematic adaptation, based on a screenplay by Forrest Gump's Eric Roth (a connection hard to miss), literalizes this concept even further with actual floodwaters threatening the hospital deathbed of Daisy Fuller (Cate Blanchett) in 2005 New Orleans. As Hurricane Katrina bears down on the city where she spent much of her life, the eighty-two-year-old Daisy shares an anecdote, and then a diary/scrapbook, with her thirty-seven-year-old daughter Caroline (Julia Ormond). The anecdote relates the sad tale of Mr. Gateau (Elias Koteas), a clockmaker who was commissioned to create a grand timepiece for New Orleans' train station; grieving the recent loss of his son in World War I, Gateau's installation runs backwards, symbolically wishing for the return of those dead young men. The diary reveals that, around the same time - the night of Armistice Day to be exact - button manufacturer Thomas Button (Jason Flemyng) raced home through the jubilant end-of-war celebrations to find his wife (Joeanna Sayler) dying in childbirth. Horrified by the infant's appearance - the boy is a shriveled creature covered by wrinkles and wracked with arthritis, cataracts, and other ailments - Thomas flees his home with the baby in his arms, nearly tossing the child into the river before hiding him on the steps of a nursing home.

Adopted by caretaker Queenie (Taraji P. Henson) and dubbed Benjamin (eventually played by Brad Pitt whose features are fused with other actors' bodies early on), the child is not expected to live very long. Every day of existence seems a miracle, and all the more miraculous is his slow recovery from all those birth defects. Though small in stature, well into adolescence his face and body resemble the elderly residents surrounding him; he needs braces after finally standing from his wheelchair inside a revival tent (the preacher played by Lance P. Nichols collapses in death even as he summons Benjamin to rise). Drawn to the outside world but unable to travel far - physically because he's old and mentally because he's still a dependent child - Benjamin falls in love Daisy (Elle Fanning and Madisen Beaty before Blanchett steps in), a girl visiting her grandmother at the home. Just a few years younger than him in reality, they appear to be separated by an almost unbridgeable gap of generations. Eventually Benjamin becomes self-reliant enough to begin work on a tugboat, where the salty, tattooed Captain Mike Clark (Jared Harris) introduces the naive youngster to the pleasures of booze and women. Departing for a series of international engagement during the Great Depression, Benjamin - now looking like a seasoned but far more upright sixtysomething - meets the refined British expat Elizabeth Abbot (Tilda Swinton) while docked in the Soviet Union, already at war with Germany although the U.S. is not. The sailor and the diplomat's wife begin an affair with ends without explanation on the eve of Pearl Harbor; from there Benjamin joins his captain in a war effort where they serve mainly to assist bigger and sturdier cargo conveys and battleships.

After a relatively quiet period at sea, the tugboat battles a U-boat and Benjamin is one of few survivors. He returns to New Orleans looking middle-aged while his mother appears noticeably older. When he is reunited with Daisy, she is at the peak of youthful beauty and vivaciousness - a trained dancer, she lives in New York City and provides a stark contrast with Benjamin's reserved Southern gentleman demeanor. He declines her sexual overtures and then attempts to visit Manhattan and sweep her off his feet a few years later, by which time she has another lover. They remain emotionally too far apart to kindle their chemistry into something deeper and more fulfilling. Meanwhile, Benjamin's father reaches out to reconcile with him, explaining the young man's history for the first time and eventually passing the booming button business onto the younger Button when Thomas dies. Another decade, another phase of life for Benjamin, who is now spry enough to race his motorcycle from one romantic encounter to another while also encountering another missed connection with Daisy in the fifties. The handsome bachelor discovers that the talented performer's career has been cut short by a devastating car accident; when he shows up in Paris to visit, she rejects even his overtures of friendship. Only in the sixties, when they are both chronologically and physically around forty, do the couple finally come together. Traveling in style and living off the Button family earnings (they move in together only after Benjamin's non-Button mother passes away), they embrace the vitality of rock and roll and the sensuality of the era. A daughter - Caroline, it turns out - is born in the late sixties and Benjamin decides he must depart to wander the world and prepare for an old age in which he will transform into a child.

Benjamin and Daisy reunite one other time to make love, she now aged into her fifties (with a new husband to raise Caroline) and he a beautiful youth of twenty or so, before their final years together. A seeming adolescent whose confusion has more to do with senility than puberty, Benjamin returns to the nursing home and is looked after by his former lover now playing the role of mother; he dies in her arms as a fresh-faced infant just a couple years before her own end. Caroline is shocked to learn all of this history in her mother's final moments, just as it becomes clear that the hurricane is about to consume the city. Nearby, Gateau's ornate clock - recently replaced by an impersonal digital display - rests forgotten in a basement and drowns in the deluge.

The Context:

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (The Unseen 2009)


"The Unseen" is a series in which I watch popular films for the first time (spoilers are discussed). 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). Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was #8 for 2009 - the next entry will be published later today.

The Story: Far from the gothic fairy-tale setting of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the Scottish Highlands, wicked creatures are attacking ultramodern twenty-first century London. The fanatical Death-Eater cult - who use black magic in a campaign against sorcerers born to Muggles (non-wizard humans) - destroy the Millennium Bridge; no wonder the salty old Hogwarts headmaster Dumbledore (Michael Gambon) yanks his star pupil, Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe), away from a date with a waitress (Elarica Johnson) whom he's just worked up the nerve to ask out. Harry is needed to help save the world; romantic rites of passage can wait. And yet despite these apocalyptic stakes, Harry will spend the next days and/or weeks far from the metropolis calling out for his protection, instead helping Dumbledore recruit (and then spy upon) a former professor (Jim Broadbent), studying an old spell book altered by the mysterious "half-blood prince" in his remote academy, and - after all - navigating romances between and around himself, his friends Hermione Granger (Emma Watson) and Ron Weasley (Rupert Grint), and Ron's sister Ginny Weasley (Bonnie Wright). Distrustful of rival student Draco Malfoy (Tom Felton) and the imperious teacher Severus Snape (Alan Rickman), Harry eventually discovers that their perniciousness runs even deeper than suspected; collaborating to bring down Harry's mentor, they end up killing Dumbledore (with Snape revealing that he himself was the half-blood prince who wrote the spells Harry has been using). Harry concludes that he must hunt down the evil Voldemort - once upon a time the brilliant but resentful Hogwarts student Tom Riddle (Frank Dillane and Hero Fiennes-Tiffin), whom Dumbledore rescued from an orphanage. And Harry's friends insist on accompanying him on this quest.

The Context:

Sight & Sound #9 Close-Up (LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #58)



For the third week in a row (and the last time, although two more entries remain) I'm covering a film I'd never seen before as part of my Sight & Sound podcast miniseries. Abbas Kiarostami's Close-Up (1990) mixes fly-on-the-wall documentary, manipulative "reality" filmmaking, and re-creation in its depiction of the humble Hossain Sabzian, a cinephile who ingratiates himself with the affluent, cultured Ahankhah family by posing as famed film director Mahmoud Makhmalbaf. Arrested and put on trial for this con, he offers unusual defenses - some perhaps suggested by Kiarostami (who shows up to film the court proceedings and becomes part of the process himself). And amazingly, both the defendant and the family pushing for his prosecution agree to play themselves for Kiarostami's camera, re-imagining their own fateful encounters. Like the two films I discussed previously - Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (with guest Ashley Brandt) and Beau Travail - this is a highly unusual art film pushing the boundaries of cinematic storytelling. No wonder Close-Up placed slightly higher on the directors' list than the critics'; in narrative, theme, and self-conscious approach, this is a filmmaker's film.


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October status update: what's left for public film/TV commentary


A month ago, I observed that I could either continue to try and finish my big Twin Peaks projects as soon as possible (alongside a grab bag of non-Twin Peaks pieces) - understanding that none of it would be done before my original October 31 deadline - or I could just put all my eggs in the film commentary basket and try to wrap that up that work before November (letting the Twin Peaks projects end whenever they end, hopefully at some point in 2024). Obviously at this point I've chosen the latter path although I do hope to get a few TWIN PEAKS Character Series patron advances and one Lost in Twin Peaks week of episodes up this month, concluding my coverage of season three. Those aside, October will be the month of concluding my original and longstanding focus for this website: written, audio, and (hopefully) video pieces on particular movies. In the future, I plan to reserve that type of work for Patreon, using my public platform to conclude the Peaks podcast and character studies as well as the Journey Through Twin Peaks video series before shifting my focus to less cinema- or television-specific video projects, and maybe even embarking on some filmmaking endeavors.

Sight & Sound #7 Beau Travail (LOST IN THE MOVIES podcast #57)



A week after this Sight & Sound podcast miniseries covered the #1 film Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles with guest Ashley Brandt, I'm back for a solo discussion of another film I just watched for the first time: Claire Denis' 1999 Beau Travail. Placing high on both the critics' and directors' lists - and shooting way up the ranking since 2012 - the film is a fascinating, deeply unusual exploration of desire, discipline, and repression. Chronicling the idiosyncratic French Legion in former colony Djibouti with dreamlike choreography and elliptical plot machinations inspired by Herman Melville, Denis depicts a tense but indirect conflict between soldiers Galoup (Denis Lavant) and Sentain (Gregoire Colin). Gorgeous visuals and stirring music (ranging from modern opera to nineties Europop) make this film at least as much a sensory experience as a cerebral one, yet I found a lot to talk about with its themes and characterizations. In fact, the vivid viewing experience inspired me to go back and explore Billy Budd, teasing out what Denis changed from the century-old novella she used as inspiration as well as the significance of those changes: shifts in perspective, emphasis on certain characters rather than others, and how the historical context affects what we take away from the central struggles.


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September 2023 Patreon round-up: EXCLUSIVE - More thoughts on "Barbenheimer" & Podcast Episode 100 Feedback + ADVANCE - TWIN PEAKS Character Series entry


With summer officially coming to an end, it was finally time to wrap up my "Barbenheimer" reflections which began with a public double review of Barbie and Oppenheimer in the week after their July 21 release. I announced back then, and am now delivering, a lengthy, in-depth follow-up essay exclusive to the $5/month tier with no plans to share it any further. If you enjoyed the first piece, you'll definitely want to check this one out; in twenty-one paragraphs and over six thousand words, I explore the recent films of both Christopher Nolan and Greta Gerwig and how they lead into their latest work, the political ramifications of Oppenheimer, why the meme/trend of combining the two movies took off, the millennial resonance of both but especially Barbie, and many other related subjects. Given the way it builds off what I've written about both Nolan and Gerwig for the full fifteen years of this site, and how it echoes a piece I wrote almost a decade ago (another dual review providing a springboard for cultural reflections), this essay feels like the perfect punctuation for this moment in my own online activity. I didn't think it would take this long for this sequel to be ready, but I'm quite pleased with the results and hope you consider them worth the wait.

Between my "Barbenheimer" analysis and the many podcasts previewed in August and still unreleased to other tiers or the public, this is a great time to make the jump to the top tier if you've ever considered joining. However, there are also rewards for $1/month patrons to enjoy, including the first taste since March of the main patron podcast's Episode 100 - in this case, a final round-up of listener feedback. And as always, I'm sharing a TWIN PEAKS Character Series entry (albeit one that I still need to revise a bit) at least a month ahead of schedule - in this case well in advance, since I probably won't resume the public series again until 2024.

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