September Overlook

If you don't visit Finding the Holy Grail (which has been updated to include Out 1) before midnight on September 30, these girls would like to have a word with you...

In all seriousness, it's time for my monthly Overlook, a fit of self-indulgence, um, I mean a round-up in which I highlight posts that didn't get many comments or links, and hence may have been overlooked. I can't tell for sure because my only reference point is the commentary and linkage (Screen Savour has been rather generous in the latter regard - and amidst all the self-promotion let me point you to his upcomings "31 Days of Hitchcock" series). So, if you missed these the first time around, jump in and please, start a discussion. This encouragement didn't work in August, but trust me, I don't care how old the posts are - they have no expiration date in terms of starting a conversation.

So here, without further fanfare, the top five overlooked entries of September 2008:

1. Another Take on the Holy Grail: Apocryphal ephemera or, Mouse Guts
"[W]as there ever a movie that you thought existed, or that actors, producers, or directors planned, which fell through? Or a legendary film which may or may not exist? What's your own apocryphal ephemera?"

2. Carefree (check out the great You Tube clip at the bottom of the page)
"That kiss may be the death of the Astaire-Rogers mystique but it's a rapturous death, sending forth shock waves that reverberated throughout the filmgoing consciousness. One can almost see the fertile cinematic sensualism of Godard, Bertolucci, Scorsese...sprouting up like radioactive mushrooms in its wake. "

3. I Married a Witch
"Only he could get away with a shot reverse shot involving empty and immobile glass bottles. Clair's films are delicate yet robust, light and frothy but bursting at the seams with creativity and verve."

4. 9/11
"The impression of '9/11' lingers, not because it's great art, but because it's something else just as valuable - invaluable historical documentation...the Naudets' bravery in service of their craft is commendable. But what '9/11' does most valuably is to put us there, on the street, inside that building, amongst the people who were in the thick of it that day."

5. Jubilee & Radio On
"Earlier in the film, one punk tells another (echoing Richard Hell's epitaph) that they belong to a blank generation. [Queen] Elizabeth not only eschews this nihilism but finds it impossible to understand, a kind of hellish mystery from which she retreats in haste."

One of these posts got a comment, and one got a link, but otherwise nary a peep. Also worth a final shout-out: Powell & Pressburgers' The Small Back Room, Nicholas Ray does Cortizone in Bigger Than Life, and Vincent Price goes fuedo-mystical in Dragonwyck. Of course, lots of posts were not overlooked. David Lynch proved very popular in the comments section with impassioned, insightful commentary on both Lost Highway and Inland Empire. The commentary for the last one in particular was a highpoint for this blog...thanks to everyone for making it interesting. I also did an in-depth analysis of the in-depth War and Peace, looked into the context of Kiss of Death, and explored the conjunction of Nicholas Ray and (hating) Hollywood with In a Lonely Place. I discussed Woody Allen twice (new and old), explored the Communist undertones of Force of Evil, and tipped my hat to a seaworthy Buster.

And, of course, if you haven't seen it already please visit the master megalist of movies and blogs that resulted from The Holy Grail. It will introduce you to a lot of great films and blogs and I'm thankful to everyone who participated. That said, the focus on lists and memes rather than movies was rare for this month.

September saw me dealing more with specific movies every day; in August a third of the posts were on general topics, and another third were entries in blog-a-thons or my ongoing series: Twin Peaks, THE AUTEURS, Hooray for (Hating) Hollywood. September was purer in this regard: more than half of my entries were responses to movies I had just seen, not as part of a series but because I had the DVD or TV screening on hand. Indeed, once my new DVR arrived, I binged on classic movies for a week, a nice change of pace since the content on this blog had been trending towards more recent cinema. These two developments were refreshing to me; hopefully you enjoyed them as well.

Where do I go in the next month? Early October will see some more classic movies, as well as three films by Paul Newman in honor of the late actor's long career (I paid tribute to him here). Then, on October 14, with three weeks to go until the election, I will go into political/historical mode: most, if not all, my reviews, will focus on political and/or presidential films, documentaries dealing with the crises of our time, and of course Oliver Stone's wacky W. which crashes into theaters around this time. See you there - and by the way, the Read More link is just a tease. This is all there is.

Twin Peaks: The Last Evening

SEASON 1, EPISODE 7
("Twin Peaks" reviews start here)

written & directed by Mark Frost

"We're in sync now, Jacques, can you feel it? Can you?"

The first season of "Twin Peaks" was pretty brief: seven episodes airing between April 8 and May 24, 1990. Much was packed into that short run, and much was packed into the final episode itself. Writing before the show became a success, author/co-creator of the show Mark Frost wanted to ensure that "Twin Peaks" would be picked up for another season. Hence we get a series of cliffhangers, which is probably the most noted aspect of the season finale. But perhaps most truly notable is the fact that this is the only episode of "Twin Peaks" written and directed by the same person. "Twin Peaks" is, of course, most often associated with David Lynch, but Mark Frost was the co-creator and on this episode, he's given free hand to do what he will. The differences between his approach, Lynch's, and the other directors' and writers' is fascinating.

Another take on the Holy Grail: Apocryphal ephemera or, Mouse Guts

[The Holy Grail list has been expanded to include blog names. This is worth checking out not only because it allows you to read more about the particular films, but because it will lead you to discover some great blogs that you were completely unaware of before; at least I found that to be the case. Enjoy.]

"We'd often go to the movies. We'd shiver as the screen lit up. But more often, Madeline and I would be disappointed. More often we'd be disappointed. The images flickered. Marilyn Monroe looked terribly old. It saddened us. It wasn't the film we had dreamed, the film we all carried in our hearts, the film we wanted to make... and secretly wanted to live."
-Masculin Feminin

While updating the Holy Grail list, I was reminded of another sort of cinematic holy grail, one far closer to the actual holy grail in that it doesn't actually exist. As I've previously discussed, I was obsessed with horror movies in the first grade. I hadn't actually seen any of them, but the school library had a series of orange, cardboard-bound books which discussed the plots of every Universal horror film (along with other horror classics like King Kong and Godzilla), along with a detailed history of the film's making and historical context (all illustrated by old stills).

Farewell, Newman

Looking over his shoulder, riding into the frontier twilight (literally and figuratively), Butch and Sundance see the posse kicking up a dust cloud in the near distance: still hot in pursuit, unflappable. In disbelief the outlaws look at each other and ask, Who are these guys? Today we ask ourselves the same question about Butch Cassidy himself, Paul Newman, who passed away two days ago at the age of 83. And we ask it for the same reason: just like those pursuers, Newman was unflappable, cool without being hysterical or morose, completely self-possessed but seemingly not arrogant.

Hooray for (Hating) Hollywood: The Barefoot Contessa

[Hooray for (Hating) Hollywood is a series revisiting those classics of the early 1950s which turned a withering gaze on the American film industry. Whether due to the blacklist, the decline of Hollywood's Golden Age, or America's more generalized postwar anxiety, Hollywood's screenwriters and directors were suddenly driven to lift the curtain from the dream factory and take a closer look at what went on behind the silver screen. Be warned: these reviews will contain spoilers.]

Joseph Mankiewicz's 1954 The Barefoot Contessa bookends the series with Nicholas Ray's 1950 In a Lonely Place. Unlike that film, it's in color - shot by master DP Jack Cardiff in the kind of rich shadows usually found in black-and-white. The results, especially in the background of the frame, often pop like a slide photo on a light table (which is bound to remind my generation of those "3-D" viewfinders from the 80s). In a Lonely Place carries over the postwar noir style, while The Barefoot Contessa - like A Star is Born, also released in '54, opens up into that colorful mid-50s palette (Star goes even further, by embracing widescreen).

Vicky Cristina Barcelona

After spending much of today expanding on yesterday's unexpectedly complicated uber-Holy Grail post (which still needs some tweaking), I had a brief window - before the big debate - to go to the movies. Though I believe the proper and most deserving place to see a film is on the big screen, I've had little opportunity to demonstrate this on my blog. Indeed, during the two-month run of The Dancing Image, I've been to just three movies in the theaters - only two of them new releases (I also saw a retro screening of War and Peace). In both cases, I knew what I was going to see ahead of time, but tonight I was able to engage in that most enjoyable of activities, picking the movie on the spot with a minute or two to spare.

Finding The Holy Grail

(Also see "The Holy Grail" for the full, updated list of participating blogs.)

Wow, that took a long time! Last night, too tired to write an entire fresh post, I put up this picture as a placeholder and promised that I'd be back soon with a master list of all the "Holy Grail" films. Well, here I am but there was a lot of hunting and gathering to do. For those of you just joining in, here's the chronology.

Two months ago, just over a week after I joined the blogosphere, Piper at Lazy Eye Theatre introduced a new "meme" into circulation: The 12 Movies Meme. Diablo Cody, then still undergoing a Juno backlash (a counter-backlash has just started to emerge), had been invited to program a dozen movies at a revered retro theater and Piper essentially said, "hey, if she's got the right, why not us?" What followed were countless responses, as each blogger took on the adventure, choosing 12 films that they would program at a retro theater if given the chance.

I was just a fresh-faced blogger then, with maybe a couple readers (who had yet to comment), a lonely voice in the wilderness. This list appealed to me and so on the first of August I unveiled my own "dirty dozen." The list proved popular and introduced me to a lot of my current readers and readees, including James Hansen at Out 1. One of his picks for the 12 Movies Meme was a film he hadn't yet seen and the light bulb - usually dim - which I carry over my head at all times was illuminated. Why not a new list, another "dirty dozen" which would be made up entirely of films the blogger had not seen, and which were not available on Netflix? And so "The Holy Grail" was born. I unveiled "Another dirty dozen" a little over a month ago.

Progress was slow at first - a few people responded with their own lists, other promised to put up a list when they had the chance. Ten days later, I started recording the blogs who had participated, and continued to update it as new entries emerged. I've been pretty busy the past few weeks and didn't have a chance to update my information. This morning I finally pursued all the threads and discovered that the meme had really taken off. After the jump you will find a complete list of all the movies constituting "the Holy Grail." Some bloggers cheated, including movies available on Netflix, but I've included each and every film blogged about. Next to the title appears the blog(s) which suggested it: click on the link to read more.

Enjoy the fulfillment of your quest for the Holy Grail, but don't drink too greedily. By my count, 30 blogs have participated, resulting in 352 movies on the list. [updated 10/12] [updated again 1/3; click on the asterisk next to the film's name for a link to the Dancing Image review.]

Twin Peaks: Realization Time

SEASON 1, EPISODE 6
("Twin Peaks" reviews start here)

directed by Caleb Deschanel
written by Harley Peyton

"I feel like I'm in a dream tonight."

When it comes to "Twin Peaks," David Lynch is the master dreamer and the question becomes, which aspect of his style do the other directors explore? Tim Hunter proved himself adept - perhaps even Lynch's equal - when it came to stoking the tone of mystery and cultivating the weirdness of the atmosphere. Duwayne Dunham seemed to understand the characters best, and even while speeding up the pace and making the style more conventional, his Cooper feels the closest to what the agent should be (next to Lynch's take on our hero). As for first-time Peaker Caleb Deschanel, he seems to have the spooky slowness down pat; though he doesn't always utilize it, the early scenes of episode 6 are suffused with an ethereal, quiet calm that effectively echoes Lynch's penchant for methodically slowing down the performances and allowing shots to linger.

THE AUTEURS: D.W. Griffith - True Heart Susie

By no intention of my own, but through the malfeasance of Netflix delays and mishaps and the distraction of a new DVR, the Auteurs series was put on hold for almost a month. Now I'm back - with the first Griffith feature in the series that I had not seen before. In 1919, close on the heels of Broken Blossoms, Griffith released another melodrama starring Lillian Gish. However, this one is much simpler - and in fact comes as a bit of a surprise after Griffith's epic earlier work.

Road House

Soon after his scene-stealing turn in Kiss of Death, Richard Widmark played a seemingly very different role in Road House. (Spoilers ahead!) Jefty owns a road house and appears to be a solid citizen, if something of a loner, boozer, and womanizer. He runs a business, wants to get married to new entertainer Lily Stevens (Ida Lupino), and has a long-standing friendship with Pete Morgan (Cornel Wilde). But Widmark still ends up as the villain, a character trying to seperate the two long-suffering characters who just want a simple life together. And he still has a mad (meaning angry and/or slightly crazy) streak, lashing out with violence and losing his temper in ways that get him into hot water.

Kiss of Death

As American film language grew in the late forties, the term "film noir" came into fashion. Much noted was the "darkening" of theme and lighting palette, and the way they want hand-in-hand. But there was a "deepening" going on at the same time. Thirties films are gloriously kinetic and economical and I've grown to appreciate their direct, exquisitely chiseled charms in recent years. However, it was forties and fifties Hollywood that initially hooked me into the classics as a precocious film buff, and I think it was the depth that did it. Like the darkness, depth took on formal and thematic connotations: there's depth of field, so that backgrounds become less abstract and enrich the overall picture; depth of texture, a result of logistical as well as textual factors, as film shoots increasingly took place on location; depth of performance, with "the Method" creeping into and than exploding on the scene; and depth of the story, so that suddenly we aren't just seeing the "most important" element of a movie but a whole variety of elements, whether presented front and center or suggested peripherally.

I think postwar American cinema, and I think On the Waterfront with the gritty, lived-in Hoboken rooftops; the gestures and expressive allusions to a past life - thrown boxing matches, childhood bonds forged by poverty; or little details along the way like Brando playing with Eva Marie Saint's glove (something that apparently every viewer notices on their own, considering it their own private, cherished discovery). Or I think Vertigo with abstract but potent ideas like its sense of history's chasm yawning underneath our unsettled present, ready to swallow us up in its mad chaos - alongside evocations of lust and anxiety and painful but passionate frustrations which lurk in the character's eyes and suffuse the looming romanticism of San Francisco. And Kiss of Death fits nicely into this postwar depth, taking the crime genre and fleshing it out in several directions at once.

Carefree

At its finest, Carefree walks on air, and this is due in no small part to Ginger Rogers. Her collaboration with Fred Astaire is of course legendary, and they have some outstanding numbers on display here. But the film is a musical comedy with a surprising emphasis on the latter. In addition to being a captivating dancer and the perfect partner for Fred, Ginger was what they like to call "a deft comedienne" and she carries most of the film's comedic elements on her own. She's hypnotized, anesthetized, arrested, swept off her feet, and punched in the face. She is a master of the wheeling, leering, google-eyed grin, in a form that reminded me of her Stage Door co-star Lucille Ball. Watching this movie tonight confirmed what Stage Door had led me to suspect: I really, really like Ginger Rogers.