The Filmcake

I don’t know how to say it any better than that. I grew up periodically catching him up in the balcony with Siskel and then later with Roeper. And for quite a while now I’ve been regularly keeping up with his weekly movie reviews.

Just this week, I finished reading Ebert’s The Great Movies. It’s basically a collection of 100 of his Great Movie columns. It entertains. Ebert is a great writer. It informs. It could work as an introduction to film. But, most importantly to me, it inspires. His love for the movies he writes about is so contagious. Upon completing each column, I found myself full of an excitement about each of the films. And my love for movies in general was stronger than ever. In fact, I credit him with reigniting my desire to do something more with this blog and with writing about movies.

And Ebert’s relatively recent foray into blogging has really been quite special. He writes about more than just movies, hitting on topics of nostalgia, religion, evolution, among others. Sure these are topics droned on ad infinitum throughout the blogosphere, but in Ebert’s hands they become something worth taking time to read, absorb, and share.

His post from a couple of days ago regarding facing death brought tears to my eyes.  It wasn’t sad. It was honest. And it spoke to me in a way that little else does. It’s absolutely beautiful. And I think I’ll be returning to it periodically in the future for comfort. In a way, Ebert’s blog post acts as a companion piece to Julian Barnes’ book about death, Nothing to Be Frightened Of (which I’d also highly recommend).

And it seems I’m not the only one enamored with Mr. Ebert of late. In the Huff Post yesterday, the director Rod Lurie wrote about what it means to be a “real man”:

I’ll tell you this — you can look at all the masculine toughies you want — the Ben Roethlisbergers, the Russell Crowes, the David Petraeuses — but if you want to look at what a man should be — persevering, honest, a person who manifests his intellect into action — you need look no further than Roger Ebert.

I think Roger Ebert is my personal hero. I love that guy.

(Huff link via OFCC)

I finally made it through American Movie Critics–the anthology edited by Phillip Lopate. It seemed to be a great compilation and historical review of American film criticism. I was struck by the thoughtfulness of criticism even back when film was just emerging. For some reason, that was a revelation to me. Sometimes criticism (and film, for that matter) seems so ephemeral, so “of the day”. I sort of assumed that there was a time that movies were just movies. Sheer entertainment, nothing more. But the tradition goes back to the beginning. It heartens me to know that people have always been thinking critically about movies.

The other pleasant surprise was the discussion of those movies which aren’t exactly considered high art. From Manny Farber’s “White Elephant Art vs. Termite Art” to Pauline Kael’s “Trash, Art, and the Movies” to J. Hoberman’s “Bad Movies,” they all instilled in me a wider appreciation of what movies are and can be. One of my faults is putting too much emphasis on the quest for high art in film while neglecting what is great about not-so-great movies.

On a related note, in a recent interview in the AV club, Bruce Campbell described what makes a movie a cult classic:

…one that has been fully embraced by an alternative audience, not the popular audience. There are two different audiences. One is a very specific sci-fi lover or a horror lover. The difference between my fans and Tom Cruise’s fans is that no one is tattooing Risky Business on their back. Yet I’ve seen the poster for Army Of Darkness on a guy’s back—his whole back. It was beautiful.

I still think tattooing the Army of Darkness poster onto your back is really creepy and kinda sad, but I certainly take his point. I once briefly considered getting a tattoo of Alfred Hitchcock’s silhouette.

Anyways…I’ll certainly be returning to the Lopate book in the future, especially to those three pieces mentioned above. The book also inspires me to begin writing better about movies. While I’ve been writing my short Week In Review blurbs for the movies I see, the quality of analysis and writing is well short of my desired intentions. To this point, it has been mostly thoughtless. Hopefully in the near future I can begin to take my writing more seriously and start writing thoughtful stuff in the form of proper reviews, academic articles, or critical essays.

I just need to carve out some time and energy to do it. And if it’s something I really want to do, it shouldn’t be so hard to find the extra time and energy for it.

I’m in the midst of a bit of a Woody Allen kick. It started a couple of weeks ago after watching Annie Hall (1977) on television. I’d seen it a couple of years earlier and loved it even more on this second viewing. The Marshall McLuhan scene is enough to hook me. I can’t imagine a comedy film today being brave or confident or stupid enough to reference McLuhan. Or for that matter, convincing someone of his stature to even appear in the film. Maybe I’m wrong.

A week or so later, I watched Interiors (1978) for the first time. This was such a change of pace. I hadn’t thought he’d done such somber films until much more recently. I liked it quite a bit, but I wasn’t sure if it was just because it was so different from what I expected out of a Woody Allen film or indeed if it could stand on its own. Needless to say, seeing such two different Allen films made we want to learn more. I went to the library and checked out a couple of books and a couple of Allen DVDs.

One of those DVDs I checked out was Bananas (1971). Talk about taking a U-turn after Interiors. This one is pure slapstick. It’s a gag-a-second without much of a plot. But still quite funny.

After Bananas, I read The Films of Woody Allenby Sam Girgus. I found the book to be quite enjoyable even if it can be a bit academic. While I knew what diegesis meant from Film Art, I had to run to Google to figure out histoire. It’s got to be French-y for it to be real film criticism. Anyways, it was interesting to read Girgus’ take on Woody in regards to psychoanalysis, his Woody Allen character/persona, and feminism. Of course, the perceptions of all three of these aspects can be fundamentally altered by the tabloid coverage of Allen’s personal life (which, admittedly, I only know roughly and care about even less).

Now I’m in the middle of Conversation with Woody Allenby Eric Lax. It’s a book of interviews spanning from 1971 thru 2007 that revolves around Woody’s moviemaking process. It’s neither a definitive biography nor an exhaustive study of the films. But, it is still an engaging read for an amateur film student like myself.

Reading through the book, I’m drawn towards the side of Allen that makes him private or even anti-social. I can certainly relate. Okay, maybe he’s not anti-social. As Woody says in the book: “I’m not anti-social; I’m just not social.”

I’m also drawn towards the “literary” side of Allen. I don’t relate in that regard so much as I kind of aspire. And of course I’m intrigued by the balance between that and say the Knicks. It’s pretentious without being pretentious in a way. It’s sneakers and a tweed jacket. Then, of course, given my own lack of religious belief, I’m extremely interested in his thoughts concerning a godless universe and how they play out in his films (which was also my initial reason for checking out some of Bergman’s films).

From a February 2006 conversation, Woody talks with Lax about the themes of Match Point. He mentions a Catholic priest who wrote about the movie but assumed wrongly “if, as I say, life is meaningless and chaos and random, then anything goes and nothing has any meaning and one action is as good as the next.” Instead Woody doesn’t think everything is hopeless in such a world:

If you acknowledge the awful truth of human existence and choose to be a decent human being in the face of it rather than lie to yourself that there’s going to be some heavenly reward or some punishment, it seems to me more noble.

He talks about how a priest-philosopher from St. John’s University described the film as “the most atheistic film ever made.” The absence of God is not trivial, in fact it really does matter:

To me it’s a damn shame that the universe doesn’t have any God or meaning, and yet only when you can accept that can you then go on to lead what these people call a Christian life–that is, a decent, moral life. You can only lead it if you acknowledge what you’re up against to begin with and shuck off all the fairy tales that lead you to make choices in life that you’re making not really for moral reasons but for taking down a big score in the afterlife.

I haven’t seen Match Point since it came out on DVD, but I’m going to have to check it out again sometime soon. I’ve still got Hannah & Her Sisters at home to watch. And, then Manhattan, Sleeper, and Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex…are at the top of my Netflix queue.

More to come.

The Lucas/Spielberg creation of Indiana Jones has returned to the big screen. I certainly have Indy on the brain (the Indiana Jones theme won’t leave my head…damn you, John Williams). But perhaps you’re more Han Solo than Henry Jones. If so, you might want to check out The Secret History of Star Wars:

Covering a period of over four decades, you will discover how George Lucas got his ideas for the original film, how Darth Vader was made into Luke Skywalker’s father in 1978 and forever altered the arc of the story, what happened to the infamous third trilogy in the series and how the prequel stories came to be. The book also reveals the style and method of Lucas himself and how his personal life affected and shaped the story, for better and worse. This is a book which challenges many legends surrounding the series and places the films in a new light.

Oh, and it’s free and available for download as a PDF file.

(Slashdot via Jessika)

I finished reading Film Art, 7th ed. last week. It was a delicious aperitif. It didn’t quite satisfy my hunger so much as prepare me for further voracious eating.

I’m not sure how the book is read in the context of an introductory film course. I’m not sure which, if any, parts are skipped over. Nor do I know what sort of clips or screenings would be shown in conjunction with the reading. Basically, I just decided to read the book cover to cover (aside from the Sample Analyses). After reading through the third chapter, I decided to watch Citizen Kane again. This way, I could follow along with Film Art’s discussion on Narrative Form. And, then as I read through Chapters 4 & 5 on the types of films, I was able to find many of the referenced short films online (e.g. The River, Ballet Mecanique, etc.). I’m certain that this endeavor–teaching myself about film–would be much more difficult if it weren’t for YouTube, Internet Archive, and Google.

I watched North by Northwest again and read the Sample Analysis that is included in Chapter 11. Over the next few days, I plan on doing the same–watching the film and reading the included analysis–with The Thin Blue Line and His Girl Friday.

I’m not sure where to go from here. Some of the topics brought up in the book that interested me most were lighting techniques and editing. I hadn’t before appreciated the craft that went into both of these elements. I’m also very curious about film history, especially the French New Wave.  And just more generally, I want to learn more about film theory. There’s plenty of places to go from here.

I have a couple of books on Kubrick and several on Hitchcock, as well as a decent collection of their films, so I might set off on looking at the work of one of these great directors. Still, I’d like to partake of some more general film knowledge before getting into a particular director. We’ll see…

I finally received my used copy of Film Art from Powell’s. It’s a little dog-eared but I’m not complaining (it was under $25 including shipping). Since it’s an introductory textbook, I figure I’ll just read it from beginning to end and then figure out where to go next. Each chapter ends with a section that suggests where to go for further reading. So, this ought to give me a good idea of where to carry on from here.

Into the fourth chapter, one thing is for certain–I need to watch Citizen Kane again. But, No Country for Old Men just came out on DVD and I want to watch that again, too. And, I’ve got to watch The Assassination of JJ by the CRF so I can exchange it at BB for something else so I can finally cancel my BB Online membership and move over to Netflix. And, as I read through Film Art and browse film blogs and film magazines, my List of Movies to Watch grows ever bigger. So much to see…not enough time.