Everyone walks the same, expecting me to step the narrow path they've laid. They claim to walk unafraid. I'll be clumsy instead.I need to finish this up today so that I stop stepping on Knocked Out Loaded's month. Not sure I have the energy, but we'll see. I also have to get back to watching and writing about movies, especially since I revisited a film last night that I need to restore to my Top 10
0. I was partly distracted during that screening by the discussion between
smirnoff,
Sandy, and
Knocked Out Loaded near the end of their
In the Name of the Father chat about trends in my Top 100. I've not thought about myself being particularly drawn to "big moral/justice issues", and I'm stumped trying to figure out if there's really something to that. I think it's likely that I'm more just drawn to films with a documentary impulse (whether in fiction or non-fiction films), and there's a lot of overlap in that style with the aforementioned themes. Thematically, I'l probably drawn to (adolescent) coming-of-age stories above all else, but I don't think the story of Gerry Conlon quite fits into that bucket (despite maturation being a big part of his arc). Instead,
In the Name of the Father fits the trend of my favorite films that are fully cinematic — that attack the spectrum of my senses with emotion and delight and humor and tension. It starts with a good story, like anything else, and then structure and characters. And then virtuoso performances and strong editing and perfect use of music. And finally ... moments. Those shots and scenes that affect me deeply and make my viewer's heart scream yes yes yes.
In the Name of the Father has its fair share of those moments, highlighted most obviously by the last fifteen minutes, with Emma Thompson asking if you know this man and giving me chills down my spine that I'm feeling as I type this even though I haven't seen that scene in at least a year; and Daniel Day-Lewis, fantastic throughout, quoting the film's title in a way that makes me want to cry. (Reading back through the chat now and remembering the bits of flame outside the prison cells and getting more chills. Surprised to read that that reaction wasn't shared.) And now I'm laughing thinking about how the father/son relationship here makes for a perfect early-90s double-feature with
Quiz Show ... only to remember Sandy's reaction to the latter. I probably agreed with you all about the final courtroom scene feeling rushed the first time I saw the movie, but on subsequent viewings it felt perfect, getting to the root of the arbitrariness of the justice on display (something which the film's structure taps into nicely, I think). The movie denies us that full sense of satisfaction at the end because we shouldn't be satisfied. We should feel cheated and inspired to action and change, which Gerry's speech on the steps brings home. (Postscript: I liked
12 Angry Men a good deal, but not quote Top 100 anymore; maybe with a little more documentary grittiness. And
The Poseidon Adventure is fun, of course.)
You're staring at the sun. You're standing in the sea. Your mouth is open wide. You're trying hard to breath.I'm glad that
Bondo,
MartinTeller, and
Knocked Out Loaded all watched Keaton's
The Scarecrow for my month, though I probably would have lost a bet trying to predict who would like it the most. I might have made that money back on
Johnny Guitar, though, which was watched by
Bondo,
oldkid, and
Dave the Necrobumper. That's a film I haven't yet had a chance to see on 35mm with an audience, but I hope you'll all join me when the time comes. I think we'll all get even more out of the film then. I wish I had a full review to refer back to, but I think my "I really want to have sex with a gun right now" comment speaks to the camp, fetishistic, overheated joys of the film. Dave, I laughed when you wrote that "the performances occasionally touched on the melodramatic" because that seems to my memory some awfully humorous understatement.
The big fish eat the little ones. The big fish eat the little ones. Not my problem, give me some.I really enjoyed reading your thoughts on
Before Sunrise,
Teproc, and I anxiously await hearing what you have to say about
Before Sunset a few years from now. You might well be the first person to speak of
Before Sunrise just as a film of ideas, with nary a reference to its status as a romance. I'm curious whether that's how you experienced the film or just what you happened to focus on in your write-up. And I think Linklater's ability to balance the un-written and the written — a sense of natural spontaneity inside and a deliberate and specific structural and thematic design — is his main gift as a director (apart from his knack for
scheduling).
Twenty-five years and my life is still trying to get up that great big hill of hope, for a destination.There seems to be some confusion about which movie in the
Before series is the best. That's perhaps a tribute to the films and their multi-faceted appeal. But it's also crazy talk because
Sunset is clearly the answer. It's perfection. (
smirnoff introduces Exhibit A.) Linklater's filmmaking is at its most assured, with no wasted moments.
Sunrise and
Midnight never quite find the same balance between character and idea and theme and cinema;
Sunrise fumbles a bit with its episodic nature and
Midnight labors too much in its quest to be real to the characters established by the first two movies.
Sunrise lives in the sweet spot between the two, a cinematic delicacy.
If they think you got it they're going to beat it out of you, through work and debt, whatever all else there is. You gotta watch your own back.Sandy, you can argue, I think, that even lies are autobiographical truths. The story you choose to tell, even if embellished, still tells a story about you. Everything is autobiographical just like everything is political. My to-do list for today says to finish responding to Top 100 reviews and then to fix my life. Both remarked un-crossed off at present. My problems revolve around an unending war at the extremes between apathy and desire. That I haven't spent time in Eastern Europe is also a problem. I don't believe that a lack of desire would lead to an avoidance of unhappiness because I'd
feel the lack. It's the age-old argument about having good without evil. I'll take the good and suffer the consequences. So, no, not a buddhist, but I did of course keep journals as a kid. Let's drink this rye and I'll read aloud from selected passages. We'll do a shot every time the embellishments seem more autobiographical than the facts. The idea of our having set points makes me sad, going back to that idea of lack of evolution. I suppose it can go both ways, though. You can reread those old journals and smile at the fact that you're still the same person; or you can react with horror that the script of your life was written long before you want to admit. There might well be ghosts and spirits and reincarnates around us, but they've been slow to introduce themselves to me. I met someone once who, based on my zodiac, quickly summed me up in unsettling fashion, providing the strongest argument for astrology I've encountered to date. If it was all was going to end today, we'd still talk about the possible tomorrows and the missed opportunities of yesterday.
You've been riding down the road, chasing nighttime, but you know, no matter how fast you go, I'll be grown up when you come home.pixote