Viewing Log #53: Ring around the rosey [7/28/10 - 8/8/10]

by Ryland Walker Knight

• Step Brothers [Adam McKay, 2008] Both Will Ferrell and John C Reilly are perfect at the adolescent petulance and a lot of the slapstick made me laugh a lot, too. Then there was the stray absurdity like the wood nymph and centaur fantasy, or the lumberjack fantasy, and I love it when this team will indulge those impulses.
  
• Date Night [Shawn Levy, 2010] It's fascinating how much I adore Tina Fey. Oh, wait, it's not.
  
  
• The Sopranos "D-Girl" [Allen Coulter, 2000] One of the lesser directorial efforts in the series run (what's with all those black outs?) but any episode basically centering on Chris is one worth watching.
  
• Gamer [Nevaldine/Taylor, 2009] Woke up early on a Saturday, much like the previous one (see below), and watched another Ignatiy-sanctioned id-blast of dummy horror show. I liked this one even more. Now, I.V.'s review is kind of like a mission statement for that dude (it would appear), as it starts with "Glory to those with the intelligence to have bad taste." My first thought's a shrug—I guess so—but that's all you need for this movie. I'd probably give it four out of five stars but only because it's an impressive feat of regurgitation and because it's short. Everything's got its source but, much as Gerrard Butler vomits up alcohol to start a car to escape the game, these N/T dudes are seemingly throwing up as many ideas as possible just to whip up your eyes like egg whites. Which is to say that everything's intentional but nothing's weighted beyond the play of light, rendering the entire 95 minutes child's play. What remains refreshing is that the film's not out to prove anything. We know what's right and wrong and apparently it's right to kill your way free of puppet strings, no matter the collateral damage, as long as you've got an absurdly attractive wife and daughter ready for your nuclear restoration. Prurience often masks pretty vanilla aims at bottom. Or so it goes in Ho'wood.
  
  
• Fort Apache [John Ford, 1948] Around the time John Wayne interrupts Shirley Temple and John Agar on the back steps, I heard myself snoring with half a beer nearly emptying itself on my lap and a plate of pizza sitting half eaten nearly toppling itself off the armrest. This was a reflection of my body, not my brain. I did have time, though, to get supremely affected simply by Fonda's face. Haven't identified why, yet, but his face makes me run through a gamut of feelings.
  
  
• Cemetery Junction [Stephen Merchant and Ricky Gervais, 2010] There's a reason it's going straight to DVD here. Not only is it neck-thick in British culture, it's just about as earnest as can be imagined with these dudes. This isn't to say I didn't laugh at all but it's pretty damned straight forward and features the worst tendencies of all the Merchant-Gervais comedies full bore: lots of mean-spirited jokes for the longest set up of the most sentimental pay offs you'll see. In a way, it's cute how they want to inspire (or some such) but in another way it's just rote.
  
• Armored [Nimrod Antal, 2009] About that script: terrible dialog but perfect B-movie structure with one body after another raising the stakes and the fever. About that director: he makes spaces legible, yes, but he's victim to the editing board's splay of coverage like plenty of others. What really amazed me, and maybe this was because I watched it on a computer, was that the sound stayed down; that the film felt quiet despite the violence erupting. Also, as Matt Dillon gets older, he and his brother look more alike (noses notwithstanding). Worth a watch on a Wednesday.
  
  
• Orlando [Sally Potter, 1992] Here's a movie. I didn't know it would be funny, like laugh-out-loud funny, and I didn't know it'd be so fleet. Every scene's got a joke or two and Orlando himself, becoming herself, is a joke already in a film: you cannot cast a man who will become a woman, literally/physically, so you've got to go androgynous enough that the switch, with whatever "true" sex apparent, will make sense. And of course it makes more sense to move away from drag in a story of actualization (though, of course, failures abound). I doubt I'll write any more any time soon (unless commissioned) about the picture, but I started reading the book and I already think it'd be a great object lesson for just about any class I could dream to teach (though a course on adaptation is the first destination I leap to) at a collegiate level. Which is to say, I hope to not simply see it with some other people who are important to me but to talk about it, too. If Haz and I ever live near each other again, we'll most definitely resurrect the podcast.
  
  
• The A-Team [Joe Carnahan, 2010] Because of this one, which I sent to my dad, which he basically agreed with to the point of denigrating Inception in favor of this slideshow's stupidity (or "stupid fun"). That is, I enjoyed myself better than I expected to, and Ignatiy's assessment of Bradley Cooper ("that he can make a face like a dog that's very happy to see you") makes it so I'll only ever be charmed by that idiot grin; he has the face of a movie star, sure, but he deploys the persona of every asshole I've met who reads men's magazines for "how to"s as much as for the glossy porn of purchase-able items. Which is to say that this is the flip side of Inception's appeal to the boys with money, the club-shirt side vs the I-wear-a-vest side, and it's no surprise that (though both are "objectionable") the club's more fun.
  
  
• Cop Out [Kevin Smith, 2010] Way too long, of course, and way not funny enough as the time ticks by, of course, but it's saved from complete boredom towards the end because Tracy Morgan does his Tracy Morgan thing and gets wacky at any moment he's allowed, which, it would appear, was an always-encouraged "always" on this set. Bruce Willis does Bruce Willis, too, but that's stale-ish and I didn't dig all the truly potty-based jokes. Final note: I'd be suspicious of the neighbor, too, if my wife looked like Rashida Jones and I looked like Tracy Morgan and I chose a profession that kept me from home more hours than I spent there. As if you doubted it: no future as an "arm of the law" here.

Viewing Log #51: Vanilla and skunk [7/13/10 - 7/18/10]

by Ryland Walker Knight

Here's another quick narrative for you. Spent a lot of this last week running around town, which seems to be a common theme as I continue to move my life more and more offline, but this was just tiring. I also started a couple new books and saw my sister perform in a play (that she wrote) at Berkeley Rep (in a summer school program); she's 13, if you need to know. I also saw just the one film, the opening night film (John Ford's The Iron Horse from 1924), at the SF Silent Film Festival. This bums me out. I missed Friday because of work and the sister, and was fine with that, but Saturday got away from me and today I couldn't move I was so tired and my throat was so closed. Somewhere in there I made time for a nerdsville 9:30am matinee of Inception, but I'm going to have more to say about that in conversation with my old friend Jen Stewart shortly. (You may remember she and I traded some ideas on The Dark Knight a couple years ago here and here.) The short of it: I enjoyed myself but I don't think it's good or actually smart and, again, I don't think Nolan can direct action at all, which is surprising given his eye for symmetry (and geometry in general; though not "architecture"). In any case, stay tuned.

Earlier today, instead of seeing awesome silent movies in the best theatre I know, I drank a lot of tea and grapefruit juice while watching The Hangover a year after the fact. Zach Galifianakis is great, clearly doing his own thing, but everything else is everything I hate about dudes; what's more, everything comes from fear and/or hate. No wonder it was a hit, eh? The conceit's great, of course, but the movie has no interest in what's interesting about a hangover's lacunae. Like Nolan, actually, Todd Phillips seems to prey on those fears we harbor; except he's a literalist of a different stripe. Nolan's got a thing for writing bad dialogue the way Phillips has a thing for making women intolerable or invisible or, well, whores. Lad mags haven't failed, they've simply been turned into movies. (For that matter, as I txt'd with Danny, Inception's a GQ subscriber's wet—you guessed it—dream; that's the advertisement film, not I Am Love; but I'll table that for now).

Later, I watched The Invention of Lying and, though it's simple, I liked its fantasy. I wish there were more comedies of morals that live in the realm of the concept. You can always count on Ricky Gervais for some teetering-near-mawkish-territory sentimentality, but you can also count on him for honesty. It's not exactly great filmmaking but, as with a lot of comedies I appreciate, its spirit (its philosophy, if you must) is something I respect and admire. That is, the film's moral position (cough) is one I can get behind. However, it's pretty sad that such a thing as thoughtfulness is a rarity; I take it for granted that most thoughtfulness is stuff of stuff like, say, a book (or a "puzzle film") and not a joke. Which brings me back to Nolan, again, and one last gripe before I go to bed: dude's got no funny bone. I have no idea how to imagine how Nolan has fun. Does he play a lot of video games? Seems likely? Ad hominem what!?

Convergence for your gardens (8/8/09)

by Ryland Walker Knight

—stretches leaves traces

Viewing Log #5: Frankly curious, hungry [7/27/09 - 8/2/09]

by Ryland Walker Knight

—Past gold, into dust like scythes of light

• Heaven Can Wait [Warren Beatty & Buck Henry, 1978] # Co-written by Elaine May, if you remember. And co-starring Julie Christie, as I'm sure you can't forget. She sells everything, and not solely because she's a gorgeous creature. (Annie wasn't feelin' it, btw; her loss.)

• The Grapes of Wrath [John Ford, 1940] # How's this for a come down? I said a few things in the comments at this post, but, now, looking at the dates in this list, it's amazing that this picture is "contemporary" with that Fleming ark of the antebellum.
• Funny People [Judd Apatow, 2009] Said plenty at fN!, but I want to say here that it's such a fine line between the camera loving its subject and the director congratulating himself. I wanted more from that trio of competitive bile.

• RocknRolla [Guy Ritchie, 2008] Wasn't up for anything I'd have to think about, so this puffer was easy to down despite its blatant bullshit because, well, it's macho and it's entertaining and Thandie Newton is a dime. Mark Strong is classy, typically perfect, but this one ain't no Revolver—by a mile.
• Wedding Crashers [David Dobkin, 2005] # Only about 45 minutes, and on cable, which butchers the dirty fun.

• Gone With The Wind [Victor Fleming, 1939] A bizarre meld of expressions, and big as a plantation to be sure (broad as hell, too), but Gable kept me going. More and more I think him a fine actor, with real valiance and wit. A true He-Man type, but the wounds show up nevertheless.

• Noroit [Jacques Rivette, 1976] I don't know. Perhaps as "purely negative" as that Lang picture he loves. Halting and arrested, this is about as uninviting a picture as you'll see. Rivette braids revenge and self-destruction in a complete nowhere world that has lost its treasure, and sense of order, until the cataclysmic finale, which is basically a zero sum game. Will have to watch again. Lafont's pants are hilarious; she's kind of terrifying. That, too, it seems, is the movie.

"Is this a commercial? I think this is a commercial."

by Mikey

Five years ago when I started working at Seattle's Metro Cinemas (famously named "one of Landmark's least charming theatres" by the Stranger) I didn't know shit about film. Frankly after reading posts by others on sites like this one, I realize that I still don't know shit about film. But I'm learning. For me there has been no finer crash course for this wild world of cinema than the repertory program I co-host, co-curate and co-ddle, Metro Classics.


The most obvious elements I have gleaned since starting the series are the titles, stars and entire genres that I have fallen in love with, which without Metro Classics I probably wouldn't have sought out. The Red Shoes, Ginger Rogers and Westerns jump immediately to mind. Beyond that I have also been forced to look at film from several alternate angles, separate from being a giddy audience member, which I luckily also manage to remain. How can we create an exciting calendar that manages to balance offbeat, rarely seen features (my beloved Pennies From Heaven) with surefire moneymakers (the equally awesome Forbidden Planet) to keep the show afloat? How can we weave these titles into an interesting theme that brings about new dimensions to the films and manages to put the season into some sort of perspective? How do we keep the idea of presenting repertory films exciting and fresh in a city with no shortage of revival houses (plus the greatest video store in the world)? These challenges, though vexing at times, are what keep me engaged and energetic about this two-bit enterprise when we're six weeks deep and I'm at work on my day off, spouting inane trivia questions to elderly couples who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

A lot of my biases and preconceptions about how repertory should be run have also been thrown into question since starting the series. When we first got up and running I was one of the most vocal proponents for running as many titles as possible on 35mm. That just seemed like the biggest no-brainer. But beginning with the difference I noticed between the Searchers print we ran, which had so many splices in it that the iconic final shot was severely truncated, and the digital version we ran for the staff at midnight, I started singing a different tune. My jaw was on the floor with that digital screening. The colors were popping, the soundtrack was slamming, Monument Valley never looked so damn good.


My disillusionment with 35mm has only grown since. On two occasions we have actually had to acquire a digital replacement at the last minute because the prints we were shipped were in too poor condition to run. Unless it's something that gets played all the time or they just happened to strike a new print for an upcoming DVD release, the films are generally beaten-up, scratched and faded. For the most part studios no longer pay any attention to their archive division, if in fact they still have one. In the last year alone we have noticed a significant decrease in even the availability of prints. We always specify when we propose a calendar "35mm when available". It's telling that this go-around we only managed one out of nine when last year we had seven.

Most repertory theatres don't have a choice on what format they can run, but we've been very lucky to have a fancy Sony 4k digital projector at our disposal. I defy anyone to make the case for running 35 after they've seen something on Blu-Ray pumping out of those twin lamps (or any of the other higher end models that have been released over the last several years.)

Trust me, I understand the knee-jerk reaction of wanting to experience something you can't get at home if you're shelling out $10 to see a film that could arrive in your mailbox. That's why we try and make our screenings more of a heightened experience with giveaways, the aforementioned trivia, and the side-splitting antics of Sean and me. We're like Laurel and Hardy. We're fans of film and we just want to share these ideas and artistic achievements with people. Curating for me is like making a mixtape, it's very idiosyncratic but when done correctly can add a new layer to a universal work you already love.

If you're in Seattle anytime between now and forever, stop by the Metro and say hello.

Viewing Log #3: Celebrity tenants [7/13/09 - 7/19/09]

by Ryland Walker Knight

—Scale me, mount of shale; here, that's how

• In A Lonely Place [Nick Ray, 1950] # More vicarious stuff, as I'm missing something grand again. I like how Steve described Bogie: "Mean X-rated expressions." Read Glenn and Hoberman, too, if you have yet to.
• Celine and Julie go boating [Jacques Rivette, 1974] # Because I can. Because those girls are good to dream about. Because it's FUN.

• Kings and Queen [Arnaud Desplechin, 2005] # Cuz a got a lovely note about it, I watched the last half hour. Then I skipped back to Amalric's dance before bed to wash the loneliness from my head-mouth. Listen: Marly Marl.
• Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince [David Yates, 2009] Oh, my. What a waste, as usual, of all that talent (surrounding and guiding our boy in the middle); alternately, of all that money; further, of space (re: the kids). More here.
• US Go Home [Claire Denis, 1994] # Trying to decipher the opening monologue sans soustitres.
• Esther Kahn [Arnaud Desplechin, 2000] # For an ongoing project.

• The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance [John Ford, 1962] # Looking for law talk, in skim mode.
• Cadillac Records [Darnell Jackson, 2008] # Watched with the grandma, on her behalf, though I never thought I would sit through it again. It's still hack cinema, through and through, from screenplay to execution, but Jeffrey Wright is a pleasure and so are all of those songs.

• Scarface [Howard Hawks, 1932] # Grimey, angry, ugly. A real treat. Muni is sick, gross. She's all elbows, perfect in her lust.
• US Go Home [Claire Denis, 1994] # Greg's dance, and some other points of interest.

• The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance [John Ford, 1962] # Still one of my favorites, and it keeps getting richer as I keep getting older.