Lost in the Movies: scorpio rising
Showing posts with label scorpio rising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scorpio rising. Show all posts

Avant-Garde: THE LEGENDS


In the middle of the twentieth century, particularly in the United States, there was a very clear divide between the mainstream and the avant-garde in cinema. While the modernist obsession with abstraction and experimentation swept the other arts, making celebrities out of artists who defied or reinvented conventions, when it came to movies, you either told a story - with a budget and release schedule provided by the Hollywood system - or you disappeared into the margins. Yet talent thrived on those margins and the postwar era saw the growth of a vital underground cinema, fostered and facilitated by institutions like Amos Vogel's Cinema 16, an inexpensive film society in New York (Vogel and his views of cinema will be the subject of the next installment in this series, going up Sunday evening).

Three figures - Maya Deren, Kenneth Anger, and Stan Brakhage - probably had a bigger impact and wider reach than any others, and so here I will focus on three of their early works: Deren's At Land (1944), Anger's Scorpio Rising (1964), and Brakhage's Cat's Cradle (1959).


Tuning In 1963 - 1964 • "32 Days of Movies" Day 15


The fifteenth chapter in "32 Days of Movies", an audiovisual tour through 366 films.
(2015 update: included Vimeo embed after the jump)

Tuning In

Something in the cinema is simultaneously hardening and loosening. On the one hand, we have a claustrophobic, voiceless train ride; the aching beauty of a poem for a leper; and a hardbitten, sun-boiled trek up an endless mountain path - Sisyphus in Latin American hell. There is a restrained but emotional parlor scene and then...a restless youth party with flirtation and gameplaying, another train ride raucous rather than restrained, a moody walk in the free air along a canal, and then a slow-boil gaze full of explosive energy and dynamic colors. Unmistakable through all these selections is that feeling of frenetic anticipation, when time stands still yet you know in a moment everything will be thrown in the air, pieces end up where they may.

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