Monday, December 24, 2007

PROFESSOR BERTRAM POTTS' HELLA HOMEWORK FOR THE HOLIDAYS CHRISTMAS BREAK QUIZ

The bells have just chimed. Christmas Eve has officially rung in. And in just in time to be enjoyed for the holiday (or stuffed in somebody’s dangling sock), SLIFR’s Christmas present to you: homework. Some of you may be on official Christmas vacation, but that means precious little to the crack and hardy staff of SLIFR University, who have worked long and hard into the night before Christmas (Eve) to provide you with just the kind of distraction you’ll need during your time of rest, relaxation and holiday family refereeing. Yes, it’s the Christmas Break quiz, and here to present it is the latest member of our faculty, a stiff upper lip of a man who can nonetheless be undone by just the right combination of sass and sparkle as embodied by that straight shot of whiskey on legs (as she was so aptly described in the last quiz), Sugarpuss O’Shea. I’m speaking, of course, of none other than master linguist (See? I can pass up a bad joke if I really put my mind to it) Professor Bertram Potts. The good professor is proud to present to you for your delectation, frustration, delight and teeth-gnashing this latest batch of questions, which will hopefully be as fun for you to answer as it inevitably will be fun to read your answers. There is no grade. There is no curve. There is no right or wrong response. There is only, hopefully, much to keep your brain pleasantly churning in between unwrapping presents, dodging misteltoe and hastily gulping down nog. As always, Professor Potts would like to remind you to cut and paste the questions and include them with your answers in the comments column for everyone’s easier tracking and reading. If you’re ready, so is our esteemed educator. I’ll be taking a couple days off from the site (the occasional comment notwithstanding), but I’ll be back to ring in the new year with you all next week. Until then, happy head-scratchin’, and merry Christmas, everyone!


1) Your favorite opening shot (Here are some ideas to jog your memory, if you need ‘em.)

2) Tuesday Weld or Mia Farrow?

3) Name a comedy you’re embarrassed to admit made you laugh

4) Best Movie of 1947

5) Burt Reynolds was the Bandit. Jerry Reed was the Snowman. Paul LeMat was Spider. Candy Clark was Electra. What’s your movie handle?

6) Robert Vaughn or David McCallum?

7) Most exotic/unusual place/location in which you've seen a movie

8) Favorite Errol Morris movie

9) Best Movie of 1967

10) Describe a profoundly (or not-so-profoundly) disturbing moment you’ve had courtesy of the movies

11) Anne Francis or Julie Newmar?

12) Describe your favorite one sheet (include a link if possible)

13) Best Movie of 1987

14) Favorite movie about obsession

15) Your ideal Christmas movie triple feature

16) Montgomery Clift or James Dean?

17) Favorite Les Blank Movie

18) This past summer food critic Anton Ego made the following statement: “In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.” Your thoughts?

19) The last movie you watched on DVD? In a theater?

20) Best Movie of 2007

21) Worst Movie of 2007

22) Describe the stages of your cinephilia

23) What is the one film you’ve had more difficulty than any other in convincing people to see or appreciate?

24) Gene Tierney or Rita Hayworth?

25) The Japanese word wabi denotes simplicity and quietude, but it can also mean an accidental or happenstance element (or perhaps even a small flaw) which gives elegance and uniqueness to the whole. What film or moment from a film best represents wabi to you?

26) Favorite Documentary

27) Favorite opening credit sequence

28) Is there a film that has influenced your lifestyle in a significant or notable way? If so, what was it and how did it do so?

29) Glenn Ford or Dana Andrews?

30) Make a single prediction, cynical or hopeful, regarding the upcoming Academy Awards

31) Best Actor of 2007

32) Best Actress of 2007

33) Best Director of 2007

34) Best Screenplay of 2007

35) Favorite single movie moment of 2007

36) What’s your wish/hope for the movies in 2008?


(Thanks in advance to all of you who look forward to participating in these quizzes as much as I do. And a special bow in the general direction of Jim Emerson, who provided even more inspiration than usual by outright providing two questions in this particular quiz. Professor Potts owes you a debt of gratitude, Jim, but he says it’s pistols at dawn if you ever look at Sugarpuss like that again. I think he’s serious, man.)

Sunday, December 23, 2007

MR. SHOOP'S SUMMER SURFIN' QUIZ HONOR ROLL


It seems like it’s been a long time since Mr. Shoop unveiled his Surfin’ Summer School Quiz. And in reality, yes, it has, considering that we’re now just a day or two away from Christmas. But since there’s a new quiz in the can and ready to be posted, I felt, as I always do pre-new quiz time, like returning to some of the best answers from the previous quiz, a Shoopian honor roll of sorts. The thing that I love about revisiting these answers, which I haven’t looked at since they were originally posted six months ago, is not only refamiliarizing myself with responses that made me laugh or think or made me scratch my heads primate-fashion or make a light bulb go off over my head. No, probably the biggest pleasure I get out of looking back over these quizzes, this being the fifth or sixth one, I think, is basking in the level of sharp observation and humor that every one of the respondents brought to the table. I count myself very lucky to be corresponding and interacting with people who can keep me on my toes and make me think the way the folks quoted in this verrrrrrrrrrrrrrylllllllllooooooonnnnnngggggg post do with such consistency. And as you burn through these great quotes you’ll see why. As a Word document, this bastard comes out at around 49 pages, and I don’t want to be responsible for anyone’s retinas exploding, so I’d advise copying it back into Word and printing it out. I can’t think of a better volume of bathroom reading than this, and believe me, I consider that high praise indeed.

Okay, enough of my shenanigans. You got some spelunking to do. Here then, in anticipation of the latest SLIFR quiz, which is just hours away from post time, are my favorites out of the 80-some full responses to Mr. Shoop’s Surfin’ Summer Quiz. Enjoy!

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1) Favorite quote from a filmmaker

“Give the people what they want”—Billy Wilder explaining the abnormally large turnout for Harry Cohn’s funeral. (Flickhead)

Woody Allen: [On why he never watches his own movies] "I think I would hate them." (Pacheco)

"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story." Orson Welles (Jonathan Lapper)

This is a paraphrase, since I don’t have the book with me, and I can’t find the full quote on-line: “I’ve always felt that ‘film is a collaborative process only constituted half of the actual phrase. As a screenwriter working in Hollywood, the full phrase should be, ‘Film is a collaborative process: bend over.’” – David Mamet (Bill)

Sergio Leone: "I can't see America any other way than with a European's eyes. It fascinates me and terrifies me at the same time." (Adam Ross)

"Censors tend to do what only psychotics do: they confuse reality with illusion."- David Cronenberg (Anonymous I)

"I am interested in the relationship between the lower part of the human body and the lower part of the social structure." — Shohei Imamura (Derek)

Orson Welles: “I think the enemy of films is reality. I think films are best when they manage poetry, by reducing the element of reality and introducing something which is the invention of the filmmaker” (Cerb Chaos)

During the making of Lifeboat a stage hand complained to Alfred Hitchcock that Tallulah Bankhead was coming to work without underpants. Because the actors were suspended on a platform several feet above the stage, crotches were about at eye level. Hitchcock stood musing for a moment. "Well, aren't you going to do anything about it?" he was asked. Hitchcock replied, "I'm trying to figure out whether it's a problem for makeup or hairdressing." (Robert Fiore)

"When I was a critic, I thought that a successful film had simultaneously to express an idea of the world and an idea of cinema . . . .Today, I demand that a film either express the joy of making cinema or the agony of making cinema. I am not at all interested in anything in-between; I am not interested in all those films that do not pulse." - François Truffaut (Sean)

This might be cheating, but I'll go with Fritz Lang's line in Contempt, "Oh, [Cinemascope] wasn't meant for human beings, just for funerals and snakes." I just like the contrast with the reclining Brigitte Bardot during the opening shot. (Brian I)

“Most directors make films with their eyes. I make films with my cojones.” – Jodorowsky (Paul C.)

"There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it." - Alfred Hitchcock. "In England, I'm a horror movie director. In Germany, I'm a filmmaker. In the US, I'm a bum." - John Carpenter (Bob Turnbull)

I'm paraphrasing, but I recall a quote from Truffaut that I think was, "It's a beautiful day. Let's go to the movies". (Peter Nellhaus)

Oliver Stone: “Lunch is for wimps.“ (Thomas Mohr)

Werner Herzog is endlessly quotable so I'll toss something rather benign but still hilarious: "I'm not out to win prizes - that's for dogs and horses." or, the classic, "It was an insignificant bullet." (Ryland Walker Knight)

"I don't want to achieve immortality through my work... I want to achieve it by not dying!" -Woody Allen (Brian Darr)

“I want a film I watch to express either the joy of making cinema or the anguish of making cinema. I am not interested in all the films that don’t vibrate.” – Truffaut (Mr. Peel)

"Imagine the whole world wired to Harry Cohn's ass!" - Herman Mankiewicz (Flower)

"A paranoiac ... like a poet, is born, not made." Luis Buñuel (Stoogeking)

Here are two from Werner Herzog in Grizzly Man: “I believe the common character of the universe is not harmony, but hostility, chaos and murder.”
“And what haunts me, is that in all the faces of all the bears that Treadwell ever filmed, I discover no kinship, no understanding, no mercy. I see only the overwhelming indifference of nature. To me, there is no such thing as a secret world of the bears. And this blank stare speaks only of a half-bored interest in food.” (Dan W.)

"If someone vomits watching one of my films, it's like getting a standing ovation."-John Waters (Cameron)

“A good movie is three good scenes and no bad scenes” – Howard Hawks (Gareth)

"It's only a movie.” Alfred Hitchcock to Farley Granger while making Strangers on a Train. Or, the story about Billy Wilder at Lubitch's funeral: a mourner sadly says "No more Lubitsch." To which Billy replied, "And even worse, no more Lubitsch movies." (Stennie)

“Everyone has their own version of the truth and this truth depends on their experience." - Dario Argento (Cinebeats)

I don't know if it's apocryphal or I dreamt it in during a particularly funky and budget-conscious bout of REM sleep but I love these words attributed (I think!) to Joe Dante: "There are people who loves movies and then there are people that loves the movies they love." I guess it's meant as a subtle back-hander to professed buffs whose minds are a bit more closed than they care to admit to certain genres/directors/pictures. (Giles Edwards)

"Make it true, make it seem true. And don't have something, even in a farce like Some Like it Hot that isn't true." -- Billy Wilder (Sheila)

"Nobody cry when Jaws die... when monkey die, everybody cry." - Dino DeLaurentiis Truer words have never been spoken. (Robert)

Ingmar Bergman: "When film is not a document, it is dream. That is why Tarkovsky is the greatest of them all. He moves with such naturalness in the room of dreams. . . . All my life I have hammered on the doors of the rooms in which he moves so naturally. Only a few times have I managed to creep inside. . . . Fellini, Kurosawa and Bunuel move in the same fields as Tarkovsky. Antonioni was on his way, but expired, suffocated by his own tediousness. Melies was always there without having to think about it. He was a magician by profession." (Nobody)

“Seeing a murder on television can help work off one's antagonisms. And if you haven't any antagonisms, the commercials will give you some.”—Alfred Hitchcock (Tim)

"There can be no bright future for those who are ready to explain everything about their own film." – Akira Kurosawa (from “Tarkovsky and Solaris”) (Bemis)

Rainer Werner Fassbinder: “Should you sit around waiting until something’s become a tradition, or shouldn’t you rather roll up your sleeves and get to work developing one?” (Walter)

"The enemy of art is the absence of limitations" by Orson Welles (Edward Copeland)

Hmm. How about two? “Mr. and Mrs. Smith get married, they have problems, they get back together and they live happily ever after. End of the movie. Two weeks later, he kills her, grinds her body up, feeds it to his girlfriend who dies of ptomaine poisoning, and her husband is prosecuted and sent to the electric chair for it–but here’s our own little story with the happy ending. What is an ending? There’s no such thing. Death is the only ending.” — Robert Altman “I don’t think you should feel about a film. You should feel about a woman, not a movie. You can’t kiss a movie.” — Jean-Luc Godard (Karina Longworth)

"It's always nice when the eccentrics show up." Alex Cox (Thom McGregor)

"Someone like Jean-Luc Godard is for me intellectual counterfeit money when compared to a good kung fu film." - Werner Herzog (Chris)

"Just the usual monkey-funeral shot." --Billy Wilder
Second favorite Wilder quote, from a wire he sent from Paris upon being unable to secure his wife Audrey the bidet she wanted: "IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND BIDET STOP. SUGGEST YOU DO HANDSTANDS IN THE SHOWER STOP." Also-- "After all, crime is only a left-handed form of human endeavor." -John Huston. And since I have you here, what the hell. Michael Curtiz, as retold by Peter Ustinov: "The Egyptian was one of the first films in CinemaScope and [Curtiz] was fascinated with the new process. 'In de nex' shot, you coom from house visper in dis ear otter actor secret.' I went up to Purdom and whispered something in his ear. Curtiz yelled, 'Cut!' This was puzzling because I had done exactly as he asked. 'No goot. Dis is Zinemascope, vide shkreen--ven you visper muss be four feet apart.'" (Campaspe)

"I have always perferred the reflection of the life to life itself" -- François Truffaut (Lucas McNelly)

2) A good movie from a bad director

This was harder than I expected. After a lot of thought, I’ll go with Altered States. I can’t stand Ken Russell, but I like that movie. Even so, what I like about it is what survived of Paddy Chayefsky’s script and ideas, and not so much what Russell brought to it. (Bill)

Jacob’s Ladder. Adrian Lyne. Lyne is a complete hack, except for this near-masterpiece. (Cerb Chaos)

Olympia by Leni Riefenstahl. But you didn't mean bad that way, did you? A Chorus of Disapproval, directed by Michael Winner. Or A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races, directed by Sam Wood. (Robert Fiore)

I've always loved Chato's Land, even though I rarely read anything good about Michael Winner (Alonso Moseley)


The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover. Don't get me wrong, I love Greenaway films, but outside of that one and maybe Prospero's Books, it seems like he's just feeling around for something which sometimes works and often does not. Very rarely does he seem to give a film which works in its entirety. But it's still exciting for me to watch. (Brian)

I’m guessing most people would disagree as to this movie’s goodness, but despite not being a Tony Scott fan, I love Domino. Normally his hyperkinetic style is distracting at best, but here it perfectly suits the ambitious, wacked-out screenplay. In addition to being an awesome ride, it’s also a clever satire about the currency of celebrity, in which trash TV is the go-to public venue for the poor and anyone can define himself through popular culture. (Paul C.)

Speed was quite a fine thrill ride. I don't think you could say that for anything else Jan De Bont has directed. (Bob Turnbull)

Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula. (Matthew)

I feel somewhat guilty labeling the late Bob Clark a bad director, but he did have some infamous stinkers on his resume: Baby Geniuses 1 and 2, Rhinestone, Turk 182! and Porky’s 2. However, I think he made two not only good, but great films: A Christmas Story and the original Black Christmas (one I still say is one of the scariest movies ever made, even after the total crap remake ruined the original’s reputation). (Robert Daniel)

…is a gift to savor. (Ryland Walker Knight)

Parenthood by Ron Howard. (Brian Darr)

The Hidden directed by Jack Sholder. He’s not even a Bob Clark-level director that we can find interesting and he comes of as kind of a jerk on the audio commentary but, damn, I still enjoy watching this movie today. (Mr. Peel)

Plan 9 from Outer Space by Ed Wood (Stoogeking)

37°2 le matin (aka Betty Blue) - Jean-Jacques Beineix (Filmbrain)

I have so many problems with Joel Schumacher it's not even funny, but Cousins, his 1989 film with Ted Danson and Isabella Rossellini, is quiet, sweet, and utterly charming. How on EARTH did this happen? (Patrick)

I dislike Anthony Minghella's movies. The English Patient stank up the field, and I thought the entire world had gone crazy for praising that piece of junk. I find him obvious, condescending, and shallow. I don't know - he's obviously skilled, so I can't in all good conscience call him "bad" - let's just say I dislike his sensibility, and I thnk he's crap at telling stories. HOWEVER, Truly Madly Deeply is one of my favorite movies ever. (Sheila)

Keenan Ivory Wayans has given to the world such, ahem, glories as: White Chicks, Little Man, A Low Down Dirty Shame, and the Scary Movie movie. I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, though it is unevenly paced and inexpertly photographed, is a very funny parody of blaxploitation. (Walter)

Parenthood by Ron Howard, which is the last time he really coloured outside of the lines structurally, and that wielded some great and surprising results. I hold out hope that whatever this project that Noah Baumbach is apparently scripting for him will contain some of the same vibes of spontaneity. (Aaron)

There are surely better answers, but the one that springs to mind is Tigerland.... though the shameful secret is I'm not sure I really hate Joel Schumacher as much as I let on... (Weeping Sam)

3) Favorite Laurence Olivier performance


49th Parallel (Jonathan Lapper)

Henry V, but Olivier is one of those Great Actor actors that I could never feel any emotional connection to. I felt more of a connection with Kenneth Branagh, who is obviously a lesser actor. (Robert Fiore)

I've seen so few of them unfortunately...Rebecca as a film was great, but I didn't find he necessarily stood out from anything else in the film. Whereas in Marathon Man as Dr. Szell, he absolutely made an impression. A deep, lingering, painful one.

It is an absolute joy for me to watch the mind games he and Michael Caine play with each other in Sleuth. (Robert Daniel)

Marathon Man. Truthfully, I’m not a huge Oliver fan – I respect his work, but it doesn’t do much for me. The famous “Dear boy, why don’t you try acting?” story is priceless, but I think that Dustin Hoffman is a much more interesting actor, and the clash of methods in Marathon Man creates a wonderful tension and elevates both performances. (Bemis)

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. (Peter Nellhaus)

Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. He was perfect in that role and no matter who else tries to bring Heathcliff to life, their performance always falls short when compared to Oliver’s magnificent turn as Heathcliff. (Cinebeats)

The dog (and Nazi, I guess)-kicking bad-ass in The Boys From Brazil (Giles Edwards)

You know, I saw his King Lear - the one he did in the 80s on PBS, I think - it's remarkable. At least I remember it being remarkable. He sometimes can be a bit actor-y for my taste (and makes me WISH I had seen him live!!) - but his King Lear was truly tragic. (Sheila)

The Divorce of Lady X. I love his stuffed shirt performance and the puncturing it receives. (M. Peachbush)

As Julius the gentleman pickpocket in George Roy Hill’s A Little Romance (Walter)

Brideshead Revisited. Moving. Wuthering Heights. Brutal yet romantic. Boys from Brazil. Funny as hell. (Especially unintentional impersonation of Chewbacca near end of film) (Thom McGregor)

His reputation has really slid over the last couple of decades, hasn't it? 49th Parallel -- although I do love him in Sleuth. (Campaspe)

4) Describe a famous location from a movie that you have visited (Bodega Bay, California, where the action in The Birds took place, for example). Was it anything like the way it was in the film? Why or why not?


I used to live near the Amityville Horror house. I don’t know where that house in the movie was located, but it sure wasn’t in Amityville. (Flickhead)

I can't say I've been to too many famous filming locations. Umm...I've driven through the same road of the traffic jam at the beginning of Office Space.... There were a few locations in Death Proof that I was at (before the film was released, so that doesn't count, I guess). Let's see...I've been on one of the White House sets of JFK. In each case, I felt nothing. (Pacheco)

Well, let’s see. I’ve stayed at the Stratosphere in Vegas, where the climax of Domino takes place. It was different from the film in that I enjoyed my stay there. Also, I visited a very lovely spot in Ireland where David Lean filmed important parts of Ryan’s Daughter, but I haven’t seen that movie yet. I grew up in Northern Virginia, near Washington, DC, so I guess the best example is the Exorcist steps, which I’ve visited many times. They’re different, because they aren’t overlooked by apartments, and they lead up to something to do with cars…a mechanic? Just a parking lot? I can’t remember, because I never really paid much attention to that part. They are similar to the film in that they are just as steep as you think they are, and fairly creepy (though their association with the movie no doubt has everything to do with that creepiness). But I’ve felt strange, and sort of off-balance, every time I’ve gone up and down those steps. I always felt like I really needed to pay attention to how I walked, or I’d pull a Karras. (Bill)

I just went to New York and while flipping through a guide for New York discovered that Manhattan was playing at a little theatre. Me, my dad and my brother rushed to the theatre, the smallest one I’ve ever been to, and it was completely packed. There were no two empty seats that were next to each other so everyone had to spread out. And then we watched the movie, man what a perfect movie to see in New York. (Cerb Chaos)

I used to live in the apartment building in Hollywood in and around which a chase scene in the Robert Blake/Elliot Gould vehicle Busting was shot. (The Lido Apartments, where the gatefold photo of The Eagles' Hotel California was also shot.) It was every bit as seedy as it looked, and got worse. I could swear I've lived in every apartment in Pulp Fiction, or at least every kind of apartment. What you notice in any movie set in L.A. if you live there, and which must be meaningless if you don't, are the liberties they take in mashing locations together. For instance, in Busting, the chase (on foot) that ends in Hollywood begins at the Grand Central Market downtown, which is portrayed as being open at night. I always wondered why Michael Mann is congratulated for having such a great feel for L.A. when he takes such absurd liberties with location (and why he hardly ever exploits the feel for costume pictures he showed in The Last of the Mohicans). No movie has ever captured L.A. the way it actually looks like The Long Goodbye.

The Whispering Gallery in St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, which was where the climax of Hands of the Ripper occurs. I was a 12-year-old kid on a trip to England and Scotland with my parents and I watched Hands of the Ripper on TV in our hotel late at night while we were there (Scared the hell out of me). When we visited the cathedral it was a bit surreal to be in the place that I had just watched on television, especially with the drama that the end of that Hammer flick delivered. It looked the same as it did in the film, but there was no one there in period costume (Well, people were in 70’s period costume, but not Jack the Ripper period costume). (Dave)

Prague was exactly like The Golem. (Derek)

The Riesenrad in Vienna (the ferris wheel scene from The Third Man). I rode on it only because it appears in the movie, empty during the daytime, just like in the movie, and I'm sure I'll always be happy I did. (Brian)


The Ferris wheel in the Prater, Vienna. I actually rode this not long after seeing The Third Man on the big screen, and while the city around it had changed a lot since 1949, the Ferris wheel itself was more or less the same. (Paul C.)

I did think of Vertigo a bit when I visited the Palace of Fine Arts, and wished that it was as empty as when Kim Novak was there. (Peter Nellhaus)

I once had a beer in the Boise, Idaho, bar where Clint Eastwood shot a fight scene for Bronco Billy (in which the camera crew is plainly visible, btw). They must have seriously redecorated the place since then, ‘cause it was hardly recognizable. And I went to Alcatraz twice, an experience that definitely shed some new light on the Siegel picture which, on re-viewing it, seemed to have much more in common with a Bresson film than with an Eastwood actioner. (Thomas Mohr)

I visited the River Kwai in Kanchanaburi, Thailand. Besides containing a river and a forest, it was not anything like in the David Lean film, which was shot in Sri Lanka. Maybe that doesn't count as a location then. In that case, I pick Lone Pine, California, and yes, it was exactly like it was in Gunga Din, Comanche Station, Star Trek VII and Gladiator. As you well know.

I went to Union Station in Chicago to see where the baby carriage careened down the steps in The Untouchables. Two items of note: in 1995, heads were covered by baseball caps, and on the whole those responsible for baby carriages seemed to prefer the elevator, since everyone had probably seen the damn movie. (Gareth)

Last time we were in NYC, we rode the Roosevelt Island tram in honor of Deke DaSilva and Wulfgar in Nighthawks. (Bandit)


I’ve visited many bay area film locations and one that sticks out is Alcatraz prison where movies like Escape from Alcatraz and The Birdman of Alcatraz were filmed. Besides the beautiful location, the prison is undoubetedly one of the creepiest and most depressing places I’ve ever spent time at. It seems to have the weight of a thousand miserable souls haunting it. I don’t think I’d be too eager to make a movie there myself. (Cinebeats)

The bridge that Tom Hanks ran over in the inexplicable cross-country running sequence of Forrest Gump. I heard great things about it beforehand, and it wasn’t anything all that special, so yeah, it was a lot like the movie. (Daniel L.)

A buddy and I roadtripped to Vegas and stopped at the Hoover Dam. Nothing like the movies. I don't think any place such as the Hoover Dam (or Niagra Falls etc.) can prepare one for the feelings you get seeing it up close. And, to make things even more indelible in my mind, I walked up to the rail and was looking over when an Islamic girl walked up next to me. This was about 6 months after September 11 and I remember looking over at her, and she glanced at me for just a second, then glanced down, afraid to look me in the eye. She was probably one of the most beautiful girls I'd ever seen, with stunning green eyes. I smiled at her and after she realized I wasn't going to throw daggers with my stare, she looked back up and smiled and walked away. It was one of those moments that stays with you forever. So, no, nothing can ever compare to the textures of real life versus a movie screen. (Joseph B.)

When I was 17, I was briefly employed as a hostess at Dupar’s, a been-there-forever diner in Studio City, CA that was used as a location for Boogie Nights. Dupar’s is the setting of that post-disco scene where Burt Reynolds explains his directorial vision to budding porn star Dirk Diggler. I haven’t read the Boogie Nights script, but I wouldn’t be surprised if sometime-Studio City resident Paul Thomas Anderson had written Dupar’s in by name–it’s a perfectly preserved monument to the Valley’s mid-70s glory, and I’m sure it required minimal set dressing. In my brief time there, I didn’t ID any porn stars (unless Dweezil and Ahmet Zappa have gone X-rated? They were in there a lot), but it was a fairly sleezy place. We were ordered to lie about our failing grade from the health department, and I actually quit after three weeks due to very low-level sexual harassment from my manager: one day he told me I’d “look good in a potato sack,” and in my teenage feminist brain, that was, like, cause for a lawsuit. (Karina Longworth)

Grew up in Hollywood, constantly seeing filming-- Hitchcock directed part of his last film around the block from my parents' house, etc. I thought all TV shows and films took place in L.A. since I constantly saw streets and landmarks I recognized so I've never sought out a film location. However, Dennis taking me to Cannon Beach in Oregon in a storm, and having it look so much as it did in Point Break was a giddy high. (Thom McGregor)

I don't know that I've been to any really iconic places. My experience is usually the reverse where places I'm really familiar with end up on the big screen and it's always surreal. Boring trivia: I grew up around where they shot In the Bedroom. There's a scene where Tom Wilkinson is in traffic behind a driver's ed car. You guessed it. That's the car of the guy who taught me to drive. See what I mean? (Lucas McNelly)

5) Carlo Ponti or Dino De Laurentiis (Producer)?

Hey, Carlo married Sophia…and she chose him over Cary Grant. That makes him God. (Flickhead)
Dino, without him there would be no Army of Darkness or Danger: Diabolik (Adam Ross)

Ponti and De Laurentiis both made loads of schlock, but only Ponti movies for Godard, Antonioni, Melville, Rosellini, Polanski, Forman, Varda, and Demy, all in the prime of their careers. Plus he married Sophia Loren. Twice. By contrast, De Laurentiis gave the world a handful of classics, a whole lot of junk, and a gigantic, turned-on ape, which might fit into either group, depending on your tastes. (Paul C.)

De Laurentiis because he produced the '76 version of King Kong. (Damian)

Laurentiis, because I first associated him with his late 70s scholck, and then I got to know his earlier productions, and then I began to like him because anyone who willingly took on both those extremes of quality must have been a fascinating guy. (Matthew)

De Laurentiis, for producing the underrated Manhunter, as well as enjoyable trash such as Army of Darkness, Conan the Barbarian, Death Wish and Barbarella (plus his niece Giada is a hottie who can cook). (Robert Daniel)

Ponti in a walk- I just saw the trailer for Le Doulos at the Castro theatre and I'm on pins and needles. (Brian Darr)

They both receive demerits for inflicting La Strada on the world, but I'll go with Dino because, although he always struck me as slightly trashy, he somehow had a hand in getting both Dune and Blue Velvet released. (Schuyler Chapman)
Ponti. For Le Mepris, Zabriskie Point and The Passenger alone. (Filmbrain)

Hard to say, but I was inexplicably fond of The Cassandra Crossing, so I’ll say Ponti. :) (Weigard)

Close call... Ponti has the class, as well as Sophia Loren, plus you gotta love it when an exploitation film (Torso) is marketed as "From the producer of Dr. Zhivago"... But I gotta give it to Dino. Why? Barbarella. Danger: Diabolik! Flash Gordon. Plus, the aformentioned "monkey die - everybody cry" quote. (Robert)

Ponti thought with his head, while De Laurentiis thinks with his gut, and I greatly admire that much more (and without him, we’d not have those oddball productions, like Barbarella and Mandingo). (Aaron)

Dino! Anybody who can produce Serpico,Three Days of the Condor and Orca deserves some kind of crazy credit. Besides, Carlo married Sophia Loren. He needs no further accolades. (The Shamus)

6) Best movie about baseball


I like baseball too much to like the movies very much. No one ever pitches correctly, the stances don't look right and damn big game ends with a home run. And they do things like cast Ray Liotta as Shoeless Joe Jackson. You might as well cast Brian Dennehy as Oliver Twist. So for history I'll go with Eight Men Out though I'm not thrilled with it. For fiction I'll go with The Naked Gun - Reggie Jackson as an assassin... what more needs to be said? (Jonathan Lapper)

Eight Men Out. And why is it that, while I’m not much of a fan of the actual sport, I think that baseball movies (and boxing movies) tend to be the best sports films? I’m a football guy, and most of those movies really eat it. Rollerball has been pretty poorly served by Hollywood, as well. (Bill)

The one where they make baseball more interesting by introducing dynamite bats, booby-trap outfields and bases that are placed at random around the ball park. Have they made that movie yet? Needless to say, Bob Uecker would be involved in some way. (Adam Ross)

The HBO documentaries. Hollywood baseball movies pretty much suck, don't they? Bull Durham is okay, I guess. (Do you ever ask yourself, What was that baseball movie that Kevin Costner was in? Not Field of Dreams, the good one?) (Robert Fiore)

I can't believe I'm writing this, but Major League has some scenes that I'll always think are funny. (Brian)

I'm surprised nobody has mentioned The Natural yet. That movie is magic. Pure magic. (Damian)

Take Me Out to the Ballgame, a forgotten gem featuring the Sinatra-Kelly-Munshin trio from On the Town. Plus Esther Williams. (Matthew)

Pride of the Yankees. I dare even Yankee haters not to get emotional at the end. Plus it has the real Babe Ruth! (Robert Daniel)

Fuck, that would have to be Cobb. (Thomas Mohr)

Arturo Ripstein's pitch-black comedy about a pair of murderous creosote-leaguers, La Perdición de los hombres. (Brian Darr)

As a recovering Orioles fan, I deny that baseball exists. (Dan W.)

The Bad News Bears (The original!) (Filmbrain)

Without a doubt it has to be the original Bad News Bears (1976). (Cinebeats)


John Sayles’ Eight Men Out. It’s always nice to see a sports picture that has drama based on something other than “will they win the big game at the end?” (Surprise! They will! At the last second, too!) I also read an interview once with Sayles where he said that if he had made The Natural, he would’ve had the hero strike out at the end, just like in the novel it was based on. Hooray for John Sayles. (Daniel L.)

I'm not a huge fan of sports movies... for me it's a toss-up - The Bad News Bears (the Ritchie/Matthau version) and Cobb, which technically isn't about baseball per se, but it's good enough for me. (Robert)

The Bad News Bears. Growing up geeky and, on top of that, a fan of the cursed Red Sox, the Bears provided very real catharsis. Stick it up your ass, Yankees. (Bemis)

Charles Stone III’s Mr. 3000. Bernie Mac gives the finest performance of his career, and the movie’s revelations about masculinity, aging gracefully, the enduring aura of baseball in the American mind are funnier and subtler than similar achievements in Bull Durham—which is not, by the way, a criticism of Bull Durham. (Walter)

I'm kind of partial to The Jackie Robinson Story, but I think that's just because of nostalgia for the first time I saw it as a kid. (Dustin)

I don’t like sports, much less baseball; but I love Field of Dreams. That’s probably a baseball movie in the sense that it’s perhaps the most religious secular film or the most secular religious film I’ve ever seen and baseball is sort of the stand-in for God. (Alex Jackson)

John Sayles' Eight Men Out -- It tells a great story (better than Eliot Asinof's poorly written book does) of historical importance, it's paced and edited so skillfully, and most important of all it captures the joy and heartbreak that players and devoted fans routinely feel about the game (and about this event in its history). That said, Fear Strikes Out, Bingo Long's Traveling All-Stars and Motor Kings, and Kevin Costner's triple play (well, technically a hat trick, but that's another sport entirely) in Bull Durham, Field of Dreams and For Love of the Game are all nearly perfect. If only automobile racing -- one of Hemingway's "true sports" -- could be half as well represented on screen as the great American pastime. (Dan Aloi)

Ah, the wonders of baseball movies. I grew up on Field of Dreams, so it's gotta be that, but let me throw in a plug for the criminally underrated Mr. Baseball, where Tom Selleck gets traded from the Yankees to some team in Japan...good stuff. Plus, it has the great quote, "LAST SEASON, I led this team in ninth-inning doubles in the month of August!" (Lucas McNelly)

7) Favorite Barbara Stanwyck performance


The Lady Eve. I haven’t seen a lot, I’m afraid. I think I first saw her in Double Indemnity, a movie I don’t hold in as high regard as most people. I saw The Lady Eve more recently, and felt deeply jealous of Henry Fonda throughout. She was truly brilliant in that movie. (Bill)

Christmas in Connecticut, still one of the funniest holiday movies because of her performance. (Adam Ross)

Sigh...Everything she's done...I might have said the comedic performance of Christmas In Connecticut or the obvious Double Indemnity (just her entry at the top of the balcony enough). But I just saw Baby Face the other night and I think that might be my favourite - she owns every man she meets in the film and you can absolutely believe it...

I don't know how you can top Ball of Fire. Straight whiskey on legs. (Matthew)

Given her incredible range and talent, I can’t possibly single out one of her countless fine performances, so here’s my top five BS movies: Double Indemnity, Ball of Fire, Remember the Night, All I Desire and, ahem, Crime of Passion. (Honorable mentions go to The Lady Eve, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers and Forty Guns.)

Right now, it’s a tie between one seen many times, in The Lady Eve, and another seen earlier this year for the first time, in Baby Face, where she wipes the floor with the rest of the cast. (Gareth)

Ball of Fire. Tough, sexy, funny, and in that scene where Gary Cooper confronts her near the end -- heartbreaking. Stanwyck has never given a bad performance, that I have seen. She's been in some lousy movies, but her acting is always 100%. (Stennie)

My personal favorite is Martha Ivers in The Strange Love of Martha Ivers. Stanwyck is the perfect victim/villain in this role which seems tailor-made for her. She also looks rather stunning in her Edith Head designed costumes. (Cinebeats)

Double Indemnity, although every time I watch The Lady Eve it creeps closer to first place. (Tina)

Double Indemnity, of course. Bad wig, bad make-up, and she looks downright feral in some scenes, but I still believe Fred MacMurray would kill a man to tap that. (Eric)

Sorry, Wrong Number. My apologies for being so conventional. (xterminal)

Shit! I’ve never seen a Barbara Stanwyck performance! Double Indemnity has been on my list for a while. I have a “film noir” collection with The Strange Loves of Martha Ivers so I’ll probably see that one some fine day. (Alex Jackson)

8) Fast Times at Ridgemont High or Dazed and Confused?

Phoebe in a bikini is a wonder, and the dynamic between Ray Walston and Sean Penn is fascinating, but Fast Times is limited by its sitcom trappings, whereas Dazed… effectively captures a time and place—perhaps conveniently, ala American Graffiti, but the mood and character profiling are generally right on the money. (Flickhead)

Dazed is more critically accepted but Fast Times was all over cable when I was in high school so I have more associated memories with it. I can't here “Moving in Stereo” without thinking of the pool scene now. (Jonathan Lapper)

I’m not a huge Fast Times fan, but even if I was, Dazed and Confused would still be tough to beat. Linklater pulls off something tricky in Dazed, mining a fondly-remembered period in his past without romanticizing or whitewashing it. He paints the world of the film warts and all, while at the same time showing love for each of the characters (yes, even O’Bannion). It’s so rich and detailed that you can imagine living there and, more importantly, you’d want to, although maybe not so much as an incoming freshman. (Paul C.)

Dazed and Confused has to be one of the best films of the 1990s. And I don't smoke weed anymore. In fact, I didn't come to love it until AFTER I stopped smoking weed. (Ryland Walker Knight)

Can you believe I've still never seen Dazed and Confused? It'll have to live up to its reputation and then some to overcome my fondness for Amy Heckerling's film. By the way, the latter shares with Summer School the fine distinction of a place for its soundtrack in my CD collection, under the category, "soundtracks with an Oingo Boingo song on them." (Brian Darr)

I was 17 when Fast Times came out. AND I was working at the same mall the film takes place in. Nuff said. (Filmbrain)


Sean Penn’s Spicoli is one of the great comic performances, which often makes me wonder why he’s so dour these days, but Dazed and Confused nails a particular atmosphere so well, without being overly sentimental, that it has to win out. (Gareth)

I still don't understand how people can watch Dazed and Confused without retching. Ridgemont High would have won by default, even without Judge Reinhold jerkin' the gherkin. (xterminal)

Fast Times. It has real heart, not to mention being one of the only teen movies with an honest approach to sex, and sex's consequences. If you only knew how tired I am of the "miracle miscarriage." (Campaspe)

I don’t like either of them. They‘re painful without being particularly cathartic, falsely inflated with pathos so they don‘t appear to be the usual teenage shenanigans. Both films are frauds in my view. Between the two though, I prefer Fast Times at Ridgemont High though. It’s just stupid and sloppy, whereas Dazed and Confused is smug, like they should know better. Compare how the two films use music for example. In Fast Times at Ridgemont High, it’s usually very arbitrary and meaningless. A snippet of “American Girl” appears when we enter the high school, for example. In Dazed and Confused, the music is used to comment on the action in a perfunctory smug kind of way. During the hazing sequence, “Why Can’t We Be Friends” comes on the soundtrack. It wants me to throw my shoe at the screen. (Alex Jackson)

I love these "Choose!" type of poll questions -- they're the "Qui es muy macho?" of SLIFR -- mostly because there is no right or wrong answer, they are wonderful taking-off points for criticism. I'm a longtime fan of both Cameron Crowe and Jennifer Jason Leigh, and Fast Times is full of memorable lines and moments, iconic for the '80s teen movie it ultimately is and always will be. But having recently devoured Dazed a few more times, I gotta give it up for Linklater, his story, thelook of his film and his amazing ensemble. (Dan A.)

9) What was the last movie you saw, and why? (We’ve used this one before, but your answer is presumably always going to be different, so…)


After being locked away in the Wayne Family Vault for decades, Wild Bill Wellman’s The High and the Mighty recently resurfaced. Having now seen it, I can honestly say that it can return to the Wayne Family Vault. Forever. (Flickhead)

Videodrome, and I watched it because I had just picked up the Criterion edition. My opinion of Cronenberg has changed considerably over the years. His stuff can be so clumsy that I used to think the people who were so in love with his work were kidding themselves. But after a while I started to think, well, clumsy or not, who else is making movies like this? More recently, as a horror fan who thinks almost all horror movies are lousy, I began to truly appreciate that his films in the genre are some of the very few films in the last thirty years that matter. And even when he’s clumsy (see Rabid, which I also watched again recently) he’s never, ever stupid. (Bill)

I watched Herzog's Cobra Verde this morning, making my way through my Herzog-Kinski box set. Still trying to wrap my head around it. (Adam Ross)

Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle, because I’ve long had an interest in the Algonquin Round Table, and Jennifer Jason Leigh excels at those tough broad roles (The Hudsucker Proxy). (Nate Dredge)

In a theater: Spiderman 3 (was on a date and her kid came along; I also wanted to see it anyway). Netflix: The Changeling (1979) with George C Scott. I’m a sucker for 70s horror and this is a well done, spooky little ghost story. (Robert Daniel)

Clash By Night at the Castro Theatre, because Barbara Stanwyck would have turned 100 the day before the screening, and because I'd never seen it before. I loved the way it shows off Monterrey's fishing industry in an almost documentary style, and it's great to see Stanwyck acting against the likes of Marilyn Monroe and Robert Ryan. (Brian Darr)

Thanks for catching me at my proudest moviegoing moment. Yes, the last movie I saw was... Captivity. Way to go, Roland. (Bandit)

DVD: 35 Up, 'cause we matched it up with my wife's 35th birthday. We're not gonna wait seven years to watch the next one, though. Theater: Ratatouille, 'cause that's what I wanted to watch. It was super-swell. (Chris S.)

Well, Sony/MGM recently reissued eight of the “Beach Party” films on a four-disc set, so I’ve been sampling them. I heard Vincent Price cameos in the original Beach Party, so I just had to see that (“bring me my pendulum, kitties, as I feel like swingin’” being his immortal line). (Aaron)

First Men in the Moon at the Egyptian. Why? Because my hubby Dennis wanted so much to see it on a huge screen and even more wanted to meet Ray Harryhausen (which we did). By my own choice, previous to that I saw Once and loved it. (Thom McGregor)

Black Snake Moan, on the recommendation of Ross Ruediger, who's got some 'splaining to do. (The Shamus)

At the time of this writing, Robot Monster (1953). I had been really into Ed Wood and stuff like that when I was in junior high. The attraction never really ceased and deepened even, but you know, I got into investigating other things. I’ve been meaning to check out Robot Monster for some ten years now and just never got around to it. On my Netflix cue, I had just burned through the second season of Twin Peaks and wanted to give myself some kind of “break” before I start burning through 2006 and 2007 releases that I missed. I somehow thought that Robot Monster was “break” material. (Alex Jackson)

I'm qualifying this question as meaning ... In a theater? I've stayed away from the multiplex so far this summer; but I may soon succumb to $9 tickets and $7 popcorn stuck to the floor for The Simpsons Movie. As for my last, you're gonna love this ... Two or Three Things I Know About Her -- a major Godard I'd missed until now -- thankfully, finally, came to Cornell's repertory cinema. And I had to see it because -- you're also gonna love THIS -- it's referenced as an all-time favorite by one of the full-time film obsessives in Cinemania. (which every sli-fer here should see!) Now, about the film - good, unique, and not quite what I expected, with its framework of political statements and hardcore critical theory. It's beautifully shot and constructed, but for me it raised a question of Godard's intent -- even though a woman is central to the narrative parts of the film, I continue to wonder, does he even LIKE women? Or people, for that matter? Are beautiful girls just empty objects under our gaze, and their men all self-absorbed, morons, and emotionally challenged, passive-agressive dickheads? I never really expect a straight narrative from Godard, and that doesn't bother me. But I have this half-formed opinion of him as a misogynist and misanthrope, based on the ambiguous and disaffected male characters he shows in lifeless relationships in his other films -- men who obviously DON'T care for women, beyond their sex. Maybe it's his view of society, or his direction of actors is not as intentional a part of his art as I surmise here. Either way, it irks me as much as frat boy mentality and any mistreatment of women does in real life. I'm probably taking it all too personally, but I really can't help having such a visceral reaction. (Dan A.)

10) Whether or not you have actually procreated or not, is there a movie you can think of that seriously affected the way you think about having kids of your own?


I have four kids so I think about it more in terms of what appeals to them and why. They are more well versed in old films than most reasonably cinematically inclined adults so I'm proud of that. My youngest, six, loves - LOVES - the black cat holding the door back against Cary Grant in The Awful Truth. I think I've watched that scene on DVD about a 10,000 times at this point and she still lets out a belly laugh each time - which then makes me laugh. (Jonathan Lapper)

As an expectant first-time father, the first movie I thought of when I heard the good news was strangely Superman: The Movie when Marlon Brando's Jor-El says to his son, "He will never ... be alone." I can picture saying that line to myself when I first lay eyes on him/her. (Adam Ross)

Well, You Can Count On Me helped me come to a peace with news of a three-year-old half-sister I didn't know about so maybe I can vote for it: I wanted to have a sibling afterwards. The jury's still out on whether kids are in the cards. I mean, sure, it'd be cool, but if it sounds like Bruce Willis I'm throwing it the fuck out. (Ryland Walker Knight)

I don't know if the effect will be a lasting one, as I only just saw the film a few weeks ago, but my mind was constantly running over this issue while watching An Inconvenient Truth. (Brian Darr)

For me that’s such an important decision that no film could seriously affect my choices one way or another. I will mention that I don’t have any kids yet, but while watching Terry Gilliam’s Time Bandits again recently I kept thinking about what a wonderful all-ages film it was and how much I’d like to show it to my kids if I ever had any. (Cinebeats)


I thought the depiction of a parent trying to find the balance between encouraging his son to excel and letting him be a kid in Searching for Bobby Fischer was well done. I’m a musician, and have worked backstage at enough competitions, juggling stage mothers, that I’ve seen how hard it can be on the kids. I hope I could find that balance. (Weigard)

My wife and I saw Children of Men when she was about four months into her pregnancy. How remarkable that one film could silence those nagging “How can I bring a child into a world where…” thoughts. (Bemis)

I have procreated (loud applause, followed by a standing ovation.) Uh, what was the question? (The Shamus)

Eraserhead: Having kids is scary. Children of Men: Not having kids is scary. Idiocracy: Intelligent people have a responsibility to have kids. (aathomle)

The utterly godawful, inexcusably retrograde Nine Months made me realize that having kids would mean confronting the same old tired attitudes everybody else did. I went ahead anyway. The best portrayal of a child's eye view is still The Spirit of the Beehive. (Campaspe)

11) Favorite Katharine Hepburn performance

I don't like Katharine Hepburn. I don't hate her, but I don't like her. It's not like Olivier where there's no emotional connection, it's just I don't have any desire to watch her. (Robert Fiore)

Eleanor of Aquataine in The Lion In Winter. A film I love that no one else seems to care much about. (Sean)

(Warning: blasphemy alert!) Honestly, I’ve never been a big fan of Hepburn’s, especially in her early years. Her performances almost always feel too mannered by half. But I have to admit that she’s pretty perfect in The Philadelphia Story, which makes excellent use of her innate patrician haughtiness.

Bringing Up Baby. It reminds me of something Vladimir Ashkenazy, I think, once said about Sviatoslav Richter's piano playing: once the performance was over, you could pick out countless things that were inappropriate or indulgent or interpretively unsuccessful, but while it was going on, you were totally, completely convinced. (Matthew)

I’m not a huge Hepburn fan. I think she was at her most appealing and warmest in The African Queen. (Robert Daniel)

I mostly like her earlier films, so I will go with Holiday. (Peter Nellhaus)

For the moment of recognition she tossed at Cary Grant in the doorway at the end of the picture, The Philadelphia Story. (Ryland Walker Knight)

Holiday, where she genuinely takes delight in Cary Grant's character. When she sees he's got the same spark she does, it's a wonder the set needed lighting. (Patrick)

I really love Kate. She’s one of my favorite actresses so I’m afraid that I just can’t name one favorite performance from her. Instead I’m going to name my Top 3 which can be found in Christopher Strong, Sylvia Scarlett and The Philadelphia Story. (Cinebeats)

I couldn’t watch Star Trek: Voyager because of Capt. Janeway’s irritating Hepburn impersonation, but now I can’t watch Katherine Hepburn because she reminds me of Capt. Janeway. (Nobody)

It’s got to be Bringing up Baby. I’m sure everyone says that, but how can you not get all googly over the performance that defines screwball? But Baby’s not my favorite Hepburn film; that would be Holiday, which is more of Cary Grant’s show, don’t you think? I don’t know–maybe I just don’t like to see her play the wallflower. (Karina Longworth)

Lion in Winter. She's so strong and feisty and bitter. No one else could have delivered those lines properly. (Thom McGregor)

Summertime. She got beyond the Hepburn-isms and really acted. I felt her spinster's pain. The defeated, sad look on her face. The delight on her face when she finds love. That performance stays with me. (The Shamus)

The Lion in Winter. I had an acting teacher who maintained that Hepburn only became a real actress--deep, true, reliant on no tricks whatever--in this movie. I think she gave many good performances before this one, but she hit this one out of the park. (Campaspe)

12) A bad movie from a good director

King Lear by Godard. It's a long way from Weekend and Pierrot le fou. (Jonathan Lapper)

O.C. & Stiggs, or at least the 15 minutes I could stomach, with all of Altman's besetting sins at full strength: smug, self-satisfied cynicism, a contempt for his targets that defeats satire, a portrait of assholes that's unfair to assholes. (Robert Fiore)

All or Nothing, dir. Mike Leigh. A cruel parody: laughably miserablist and devoid of any discernable humanity. (Derek)

Dune. I'm not a huge Lynch fan by any means, but he's a good director and Dune is absolutely terrible. (Sean)

Off the top of my head, Alien:Resurrection (Alonso Moseley)

There are so many choices here, but for me the obvious one is Ingmar Bergman’s The Serpent’s Egg, the ultimate awful movie from a master. Bergman’s biggest-budget movie was produced by the aforementioned Signor De Laurentiis during Bergman’s brief exile from Sweden, and it’s no surprise that their styles don’t mesh. But The Serpent’s Egg is borderline inept in parts, and so laughable that one might think it was directed by Andrew Bergman. Most surprising is Liv Ullmann’s subpar performance, as she finds herself adrift in this mess. (Paul C.)

Again, Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula. This is why I love Francis Ford Coppola. (Matthew)

The list is endless. To name but a few: Under Capricorn (Hitchcock), Jinxed (Siegel), Amistad (Spielberg), Buddy Buddy (Wilder), Cleopatra (Mankiewicz), The Fall of the Roman Empire (Mann), Die 1000 Augen des Dr. Mabuse (Lang), Cheyenne Autumn (Ford), etc, etc. I’ve made several attempts to watch these films in their entirety, but failed miserably each time. (Thomas Mohr)

…kinda tastes terrible but you keep eating because the hunger remains. (Ryland Walker Knight)

Pen-ek Ratanaruang's Monrak Transitor. (Brian Darr)

I don’t know how to put this eloquently, but I just think that A Clockwork Orange is an uninteresting failure of a movie, while everything else Kubrick did from Strangelove to Eyes Wide Shut is a masterpiece. I’ve yet to explore his earlier films. I think Lolita is also a failure, but one I’d be willing to watch again.

That Uncertain Feeling (Lubitsch) (Stennie)

I normally have enough pseudo-auteurist gibberish swimming around in my head to enjoy even the lesser films of good directors. However, I have occasionally seen a great director wipe his shit stains on a piece of celluloid so thoroughly that it makes me question why I love their other work. Robert Altman’s Dr. T and the Women comes to mind. (Daniel L.)

Scorsese's Cape Fear remake -- the first time I saw it, I thought it was a put-on, everything was so pumped-up and over the top, compared to the original film. (Robert)

Spike Lee’s Girl 6. Holy cow, I didn’t think movies that bad could still be made. (Walter)

13) Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom-- yes or no?

The last (and only) time I saw it was back in 1979. It’s the only film I’ve ever seen that caused bile to rise in my throat. I’m curious about those who’ve only read bits and pieces about it, if they’re aware of the film’s many dark patches…could they stomach the banquet scene? The fact that I forced myself to tough it out to the end must speak for some level of artistry, but I’d never recommend the picture to anyone. (Flickhead)

I’ve never seen it. If I could easily get my hands on a copy, I would watch it. From everything I’ve read, after watching it I believe my answer to your question would be “No.” (Bill)

Have not seen, but desperately want to see, does that make me a bad person? (Cerb Chaos)

Nah—I don't think any translation of Sade into even cinematic reality would be right: the horror of the image would overwhelm the dark comedy that exists on the page. (Matthew)

Not yet, and I'm afraid. (Ryland Walker Knight)

I'm glad I saw it once, and that I'd had a somewhat substantial amount of Pasolini (including a screening of The Arabian Nights, his greatest masterpiece, the week before) under my belt. But I'm with Alberto Pezzotta: once is enough. (Brian Darr)

Haven’t seen it yet, am curious about it, but emphatically in no hurry to see it that first and final time. (Dan W.)

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! (Filmbrain)

Yes in the sense that I’ve seen the film, and on the big screen no less. As a depiction of moral decline, it’s pretty tough stuff. Although there are more recent films that I find harder to watch simply in terms of acts of violence or degradation, none of them confront me with profound issues of humanity in the same way. (Gareth)


Never saw it. Wouldn't be opposed to it, but not interested enough to buy its OOP Criterion on eBay for roughly 1,000 bucks. (Bandit)

Absolutely yes! It’s not Pasolini’s best movie, but it’s an important film in the director’s filmography. It’s definitely not easy viewing, but who said films had to be? (Cinebeats)

I've actually seen Salo, paired with Tokyo Decadence, which made for an interesting date night... I'd read about it for years, and in actually viewing it, it was a bit less lurid than my imagination had pictured... although it's just lurid enough to work on your head for days afterward. It DOES have artistic merit... however, it's something that I wouldn't be viewing repeatedly - and it's not something for that monthly movie night with co-workers. It's only for the strong stomached and intellectually brave. YES - with reservations. (Robert)

Yes, but I wouldn't make anyone watch it. I did years ago. Horrifying, yet not quite as bad an experience as having to watch Adam Sandler and Damon Wayons in Bulletproof. (Thom McGregor)

Actually, yeah. It's okay to hate, and it's not like I want to see it again, but I've rarely seen a director express his feelings so well on screen. "Oh, so you want to know what it felt like to grow up under facism? Okay, watch this. How you're feeling right now? Yeah, it kinda felt like that." (Chris)

Yes! Of course! Don’t be a pussy guys, if you haven’t seen go and see it! Of course, this was the first Pasolini film I saw and I saw it basically because I heard it was brutal and I’m into testing my manhood through such rituals. But after seeing it, I’ve become quite a Pasolini fan and seeing all his movies has become one of the recent assignments I’ve given myself. So there you go. (Alex Jackson)

14) Ben Hecht or Billy Wilder (Screenwriter)?
As a screenwriter, Ben’s certainly got the edge, having written, ghost-written and doctored more scripts than Robert Towne. Do you realize he even worked on Queen of Outer Space?!? (Flickhead)

Billy Wilder. When I first saw Sunset Boulevard as a teenager, I couldn’t believe that in the old days they made movies that crazy. (Bill)

As a screenwriter Ben Hecht covers the earth, like Williams Paint. The achievement is so wide that even an undeniably great screenwriter like Wilder has to take a back seat. Wilder is the better artist overall because he was committed to movies in a way that Hecht could never imagine. (Robert Fiore)

Wilder's more consistent, but Hecht's characters talk the way I wish I could. (Matthew)

Though Hecht’s credits as a (ghost)writer/script doctor are virtually unmatched, it none the less has to be Wilder, for his ingenious wit, his unflinching look at the traps and pitfalls of life and his deep-seated humanity desperately trying to hide behind a veil of playful misanthropy. (Geez, I never thought I’d ever put down something as pompous as this.) (Thomas Mohr)

I try to resist evaluating screenwriters in this way because their work only really exists through a filter. But comparing the two films I've seen by Hecht the writer-director against the ten by Wilder the writer-director, I'd tally my vote with the guy who wrote Sunset Blvd. and Ace in the Hole. (Brian Darr)

The number of films Ben Hecht worked on but didn't get credit for is staggering. That said... "Well, nobody's perfect." (Patrick)

I cannot bear to be without Ninotchka, so Wilder. But I hate you for making me pick. (Campaspe)

15) Name the film festival you’d most want to attend, or your favorite festival that you actually have attended

Even though I would probably fall asleep, I would love to attend a 24-hour film festival, and I've always wanted to check out Harry Knowles' Butt-Numb-a-Thon, despite how elitist and exclusive it has become. (Adam Ross)

The most fun I’ve had at a film festival was attending the Midnight Madness screenings at the Toronto Film Festival, but I’d really enjoy going to the Fantasia Film Festival in Montreal. (Dave)

I've only attended the Jacksonville Film Festival where I live, but it's allowed me to see Napoleon Dynamite, Murderball and Once before most of the country, so I'm happy (Alonso Moseley)

I know I’m supposed to say Cannes or Venice or Sundance here, but honestly I find them a little intimidating. If I was a paid critic, or I somehow got a film in competition, they might be doable, but for a civilian they’d be tough to navigate. Toronto, on the other hand, is much more user-friendly and accessible for non-industry types. I’ll be attending for the first time this fall, so we’ll see how it goes. (Paul C.)

2007 Eerie Horror Fest in Eerie, PA. I’d rather go to a festival where there might be much less talent, but more actual passion about movies, away from the big business, politics and generall bullshit found at Cannes or Sundance. (Robert Daniel)

I was planning to visit the Yubari film festival afte seeing Millenium Mambo. I kind of liked the idea of walking in three feet of snow to watch movies in Japan. Best film fest I attended was the first Telluride film festival because no one knew what it would become, and I managed to meet Leni Reifenstahl, Julie Christie and Francis Ford Coppola. (Peter Nellhaus)

I'd love to go to the Le Giornate del Cinema Muto in Pordenone, Italy. (Brian Darr)

Well, I've been to Vegas a few times during the porn awards. Does that count as a festival? (Stoogeking)

One day I'll be on the croisette, in a tux no less. (Filmbrain)


I’ve been lucky to attend parts of a few, including Berlin, and Dublin in much better times, but FESPACO, the festival of African cinema held every two years in Ouagadougou, wins hands down; I managed to attend in 2001, and I hope to return. (Gareth)

I've heard Toronto is a blast to attend. Not only is the climate nice that time of year but the schedule is packed with films, the selections are generous and you get a fair shake at seeing some good entries. (Joseph B.)

I’ve gone to SXSW a few times and loved it. So much of the attention’s on the music stuff that it’s easy to see an excessive amount of films, including lots of great documentaries. Some of the most interesting conversations I’ve had about film were with people in line waiting to see things there. (Tina)

I attended this year’s Crossroads Film Festival in Jackson, Missisippi, and it was wonderful. (Walter)

The Torino Film Festival (in recent years they’ve premiered the “Masters of Horror”, and held retros of Aldrich, Chabrol, and Walter Hill – sign me up). (Aaron)

I can't even handle a double feature anymore. (Thom McGregor)

I would go back to the summer of 1977. My "Kelly's Heroes Poker and Film Festival" in my parents' basement. (Jean Siskill)

I just attended a pretty good one that no one knows about that just happens to be in my backyard, The Seattle International Film Festival (SIFF). I've gone to at least one screening at SIFF since 2003 and this my work gave me a sponsor pass so I was able to see over 30 films - for free. As nice as that was however, I'd still like to go Venice, Cannes, or Teluride. (aathomle)

Cannes, bien sur. I have been to that part of the Cote d'Azur and I love the whole ambience. I would want a dazzling Paris wardrobe, matched luggage and a small dog to accompany me. (Campaspe)

I would love to attend Cannes. I like that whole blend of art and commerce, it just evinces a very pure apolitical kind of love for film. And I love how whenever Gus Van Sant, Lars Von Trier, or Michael Haneke has a new film it shows up there. Not exactly a favorite film festival, but I’ve attended Sundance to some capacity since 2000, and now I even have a press pass to go! (Alex Jackson)

I'd love to go to Cannes, but not now, 50 years ago. Other than that, any festival where a film of mine is in competition is good enough for me. (Lucas McNelly)

16) Head or 200 Motels?

We don’t do drugs anymore. You should be ashamed of yourself. (Flickhead)

Zappa's way overrated. Give me Head (shut up). (Pacheco)

"Hi, I'm Jimmy Carl Black and I'm the Indian of the group." That should answer your question. (Jonathan Lapper)

Never saw 200 Motels, but it gives off heavy self-indulgent POS vibes. Head tries awfully hard, and it's better than you'd expect it to be. Self-exculpatory self-disgust gets a little thick, though. (Robert Fiore)

Head manages to make you feel like every single person involved with the movie has been roped into it under false pretenses. That's pretty neat. (Matthew)

I’ve only seen Head, but I would still pick that one for Teri Garr’s claim that it was called that so they could market any follow-up with the tagline, “From the people who gave you…” (Mr. Peel)

As much as I love Zappa, Head is the single greatest American film of the 60s. (Filmbrain)

*blink* (Campaspe)

17) Favorite cameo appearance


No lines, no setup and it comes right at the beginning: Robert Duvall in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. (Jonathan Lapper)

Marcel Marceau in Silent Movie — "No!" (Adam Ross)

Jack Benny's 5 second brief appearance in It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World is the best thing about that film.

A couple of directors: Martin Scorsese in Quiz Show and Orson Welles at the end of The Muppet Movie. That latter one was my introduction to Orson Welles, by the way—it wasn't until later that I realized the economy-sized irony of him playing a studio head who could greenlight an entire production simply by buzzing his secretary. (Matthew)

My sister as a corpse in Going Ape!. She mostly worked on the film as Stacy Nelkin's stand in. (Peter Nellhaus)

Melvin Dummar in Jonathan Demme’s Melvin and Howard (Thomas Mohr)

I'll go with Merv Griffin in The Man With Two Brains. One of the funniest "STUNNING REVEAL" scenes I've ever seen. (Patrick)

Least Favorite: Any smug mid '90s Manhattan-set indie where Eric Stoltz smarms into the flick like he's doing us all a favor by clocking in for a "surprise" appearance. Whoo-hoo, it's Eric Stoltz. (Bandit)

I love Myrna Loy's cameo in The Senator Was Indiscreet. The movie is only so-so, but her appearance kind of made up for it. (Stennie)

There are so many good ones so I’ll just mention one I saw recently that I loved. In the Doris Day spy spoof The Glass Bottom Boat actor Robert Vaughn suddenly shows up at a party totally out of the blue. While Vaughn is sipping a drink at the bar he’s spotted by Paul Lynde who’s wearing drag. They size each other up and it’s a really silly moment with no dialogue that managed to totally crack me up. (Cinebeats)

Victor Mature - "The Big Victor" in Head; David Cronenberg in To Die For; Iggy Pop in The Color of Money (Robert)

Sam Peckinpah towards the end of Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, or likewise his appearance in Monte Hellman’s China 9, Liberty 37. (Aaron)

Definitely David Letterman in Cabin Boy. He's a hero of mine anyway. (Thom McGregor)

Julie Christie's uncombed hair in Nashville. (The Shamus)

I love Joan Crawford's cameo in It's a Great Feeling, an otherwise dull Doris Day vehicle. She shows up in a department store in Hollywood and overhears Dennis Morgan and Jack Carson talking about Day. She flies into a fine Mildred-confronts-Veda rage and slaps them both. The men ask, what was that about? and she responds cheerfully, "I do that in all my pictures!" Off she strides, ankle-straps, shoulder pads and all. (Campaspe)

Val Kilmer in Masked and Anonymous. Those teeth! His insane, intense few minutes on screen was pure gold. (Dan Aloi)

18) Favorite Rosalind Russell performance

The Hudsucker Proxy (Bill)

His Girl Friday, of course. Why are you wasting my time? (Robert Fiore)

His Girl Friday, although the way she absolutely stole the character of Auntie Mame from all future performers has to count for something. (Matthew)

Picnic, just to be different I guess. Her rather pathetic spinster seemed quite a change of pace from other performances and I was very happy for her character at the end of the movie. (Robert Daniel)

19) What movie, either currently available on DVD or not, has never received the splashy collector’s edition treatment you think it deserves? What would such an edition include?


Sunrise. It's on DVD, technically, along with three other Oscar winners so no bells and whistles attached and it's on a stand alone region 2 dvd. This is the supreme height of silent filmmaking - where's Criterion? Extras could include a short doc on German expressionism, stills from the production, etc. The one available is fine but I'd like some more. And by the way, the pig scene is another big hit with the six year old. (Jonathan Lapper)

I long for a Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse release. It’s certainly a seminal movie, it tangoed Rudolf Valentino’s into a career, but it remains only on DVD as an EXTRA to a Valentino documentry, the shame! The Horror! It needs it’s own DVD and quick, It would include commentary by film scholars of course, a nice little documentary about the film, and a crazy documentary about the end times narrated by a random guy they pulled of the street. (Cerb Chaos)

This is going to be the most lowbrow answer imaginable, but Howard Stern's Private Parts. You just imagine the reels of outtakes of naked women there must be, and who on earth would do a better commentary track? How they could be so cloth-headed as to have not done this already is beyond me. (Robert Fiore)

We live in a world where you can get four seasons of ALF on Region 1 DVD, but not Celine and Julie Go Boating or Privilege. But the fact that my all-time favorite movie, Belle de Jour, has a positively awful U.S. DVD is particularly sickening. As with many of the non-Oscar-bait movies in their library, the Weinsteins spared every expense that could’ve given Bunuel’s classic the DVD edition it deserves. It’s not enough that the only extras on this are a handful of Miramax trailers and a dry-as-dust commentary track from “Bunuel scholar Julie Jones.” No, the real shame is the barely-above-VHS-quality transfer of the movie itself. In light of the inspired DVD treatment Criterion gave to The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, it’s tempting to imagine what they might do with Belle. I’d love to see interviews with some of the principal players in the film- Deneuve, Michel Piccoli, Pierre Clementi- as well as with screenwriter Jean-Claude Carriere. And a remastered transfer of the film would be a godsend, allowing American home viewers to finally relish the work of Bunuel and his great D.P. Sacha Vierny. But the one must-have in this dream edition would be the world’s greatest DVD case- a wooden box that emits a small, intriguing buzz when you open it. Not even Severine herself could turn that down. (Paul C.)

Kubrick’s The Shining. I’d include the excellent doc shot by his daughter that gives the only glimpse I know of that shows Kubrick at work. Also, include the rarely seen, but often discussed original ending that was cut soon after the New York premiere. (Robert Daniel)

I could go on and on. However, for years there was talk of Lynch releasing his five hour cut of Fire Walk With Me, and I'm still hoping that day will come. (Filmbrain)

Robert Altman's The Company. It would come in an incredibly attractive package with an image from "Tensile Involvement" on the cover, and would have all the extras from the current disc, plus a commentary from cinematographer Andrew Dunn, another one from a critic who really understands Altman (perhaps Ed Gonzalez or the proprietor of this blog; whoever doesn't do the commentary gets to do the essay), another from Malcolm McDowell and Gerald Arpino, and a fifth commentary from some of the Joffrey dancers. Maybe one or two of these commentaries could be replaced by documentaries, but I'm not sure about that. Of course there would be deleted scenes, perhaps even a usage of the "angle" DVD feature (remember that?) for some of the dance sequences, though only as extras and not during the film. There'd be a cheesy videogame in which you control a ballerina who has to perform athletic leaps without snapping a tendon. Okay, maybe we can do without that one. But the centerpiece of disc 2 would be a complete, restored copy of Niv Fichman's hour-long documentary Blue Snake. (Brian Darr)

I’ve been waiting for somebody to mention The Magnificent Ambersons. Supposedly one of the best films ever made, and it’s not even available on DVD. If we’re reasonably certain that the lost material is lost forever, then we need to settle and release what we do have, especially if what’s left is as good as some say it is. I don’t know what exactly is holding it up, perhaps legal troubles, but let’s see a beautifully restored release with an informative non-hagiographic commentary track from somebody whose name isn’t Peter Bogdanovich. (Dan W.)

Fearless had Oscar nominees past (Jeff Bridges, Tom Hulce), present (this was the performance that snagged Rosie Perez her one nomination), and future (Benicio Del Toro has a small role as Perez's husband). It's got a hugely compelling story and some of the best directing in Peter Weir's career. Yet it's only available on a bare-bones DVD, which only offers pan and scan (!!!). A collector's edition should include the usual bells and whistles: trailers, cast & crew interviews (not forgetting screenwriter Rafael Yglesias), and a look at how the incredibly realistic crash sequence was filmed (at a cost of over $2 million all by itself). I'm betting that some trauma counselors would have interesting things to say about it too. (Patrick)

I can’t think of a single film from Africa that has received the full Criterion-style treatment, though I can think of a bunch of films worthy of the honour (there are discs that throw in, unexpectedly, short films, but that's it). I’d nominate Ousmane Sembène’s Guelwaar, which I think is his best film. Had someone been more interested, they’d have recorded a commentary track or an extended interview before his death, and there would be scene-by-scene breakdowns of the way he uses music by Baaba Maal, as well as featurettes focusing on actors from Africa and setting their performances here in career context. I’d also like to see good editions of Souleymane Cissé’s earlier films – pre-Yeelen – like Baara and Finyé, two more sadly neglected movies with great performances. (Gareth)

BOBBY DEERFIELD!!!!!!!!!!! (Bandit)

It’s hard to name just one film here because there are literally hundreds of films unavailable on DVD that I would love to see get the "splashy collector’s edition treatment." With that in mind I’m going to list 5 picks off the top of my head and hope that Criterion or some other DVD company reads this. Johnny Got His Gun (1971), The Devils (1971), Wise Blood (1979), Black Lizard (1968) and The Naked Prey (1966).

Blow Out with -- aside from the first ever De Palma commentary, 'making of's and all many of usual supps -- the opportunity for the viewer to remix their own soundtrack for the picture. (Giles Edwards)

If Warners ever gets off the pot and releases The Devils, it would have (or is rumored to have) a commentary track by Russell; the documentary Hell On Earth about the film's restoration, and of course, the film would be uncut and restored. If things were different, Oliver Reed and Vanessa Redgrave would have their own commentary on it as well. *sigh* (Robert)

Freebie and the Bean, with Alan Arkin and James Cann, is still unavailable on DVD. In 1974 it was the original buddy cop action comedy and made no attempt to hide its innate homoeroticism (or homophobia), rending “revisionist” takes on the genre like 2005’s Kiss Kiss Bang Bang redundant from the outset. It's another great San Francisco movie, by the way. (Nobody)

I can’t believe The African Queen isn’t readily available everywhere. I hope whenever the collector’s edition is released, everyone associated with it isn’t gone. Lauren Bacall, I’m sure, has some good memories of the shoot. (Tina)

I think John Sayles’s Lone Star is one of the best American movies produced in the 1990s, but the DVD edition is bare-bones. Sayles’s smart, well-prepared, and detailed commentary for The Secret of Roan Inish leads me to believe that a director’s commentary for Lone Star would be topnotch. I also wouldn’t mind a roundtable discussion with Chris Cooper, Joe Morton, Ron Canada, Elizabeth Peña, and Matthew McConaughey about the making of the movie, and the issues that it raises. An interview with Sayles and his producter/common-law wife Maggie Renzi, conducted by Diane Carson, would be an ideal way to place the film in the context of his full oeuvre. Screen tests and a production diary would be a nice way to round it out. (Walter)


Anchor Bay could feasibly pick up the rights to China 9, Liberty 37 and have Dennis Bartok and Monte Hellman provide commentary like their other releases. Other inclusions could be a retrospective documentary with Hellman, Jenny Agutter, and Fabio Testi, et al; a brief look at the Z channel’s Jerry Harvey as screenwriter (covered elsewhere in the feature-length doc, but still…); and a discussion of that on-set photograph with Hellman, Leone, and Peckinpah. Also, and MOST importantly, release the film in its original aspect ratio in its uncut form. (Aaron)

Criterion edition of The New World with commentary by Terrence Malick. Criterion edition of The Company of Wolves with commentary by Neil Jordan. Animal House: The Ultimate Ultimate Janus Edition featuring commentary by Dennis, Blaagh and Stephen Bishop. (Thom McGregor)

Kelly's Heroes, with commentary track from Don Rickles. (Jean Siskill)

Is Kill Bill too obvious? Even if it is: Kill Bill. It would include the two-film version and the original one-film cut, and a long doc showing scenes from Kill Bill alongside the ones that inspired them. Plus, a commentary by a random Tarantino-hating film geek bragging about how he was into Lady Snowbird way before QT. Just to get the full experience. (Eric)

Hey, how about Salo: 120 Days of Sodom?! I would like two separate audio commentaries; one by a Sade scholar and another by a Pasolini scholar. The second disc would have to have Mark Kermode’s 2001 Salo Documentary, of course. Maybe another one on how the movie has been so damn hard to get legitimately. (Alex Jackson)

20) Name a performance that everyone needs to be reminded of, for whatever reason


Peter Falk in Mikey and Nicky, because it proves he shoulda been a leading man on the big screen, or Harry Dean Stanton in Repo Man, because I'm pretty sure it's the greatest performance of all time. (Schuyler Chapman)

Richard Nixon’s, in All the President’s Men (Flickhead)

Robert Shaw in The Luck of Ginger Coffey (not even on DVD, so another candidate for that). For those who've only seen him in A Man for All Seasons, The Sting or Jaws (which he is terrific in all, no doubt) here is a film centered around him as the lead and what a performance it is. He portrays a kind of energetic self delusion that is alternately mesmerizing and infuriating to watch. (Jonathan Lapper)

Christopher Walken in View to a Kill. Why the hell not? (Adam Ross)

Charles Lane has only a couple of minutes in Sybil, as an old doctor who once suspected, but never did anything about, the abuse the young girl suffered as a child. I think he very nicely communicates the regret of a generally good man, who found he was simply not willing to take the risk and disrupt his life for the girl, when he knew he probably should. Greatly effective performance for the amount of screen time. (Nate Dredge)

Philip Baker Hall in Secret Honor, far-fetched as it might have been. I remember it setting the tone for an 80s election night when the Democrats re-took Congress back from the Klingons. "FUCK 'EM!"

Donald O’Connor in Singin’ in the Rain, because when he does “Make ‘Em Laugh” everything is okay. (Dave)

Phillip Baker Hall as Bookman on Seinfeld. (Moviezzz)

Bill Murray stole his entire second act from Koji Yakusho (see: The Eel, Eureka), who is great in everything, but especially Kurosawa’s Doppelganger, which would make a good double bill with Dead Ringers or The Parent Trap….

How did Awards Season 2005 pass with nary a mention of Damian Lewis’ towering work in Keane? Oh yeah, because nobody saw the movie. That’s a pity, since it’s one of the best performances I’ve seen all decade. So many actors take mentally ill roles as an excuse to overact, but Lewis’ achievement isn’t that he portrays the title character as a man at war with himself. Unlike so many “crazy” performances, Keane is cursed with self-awareness, and he struggles every minute of every day with the realization that he could lose control. Some of the credit should go to director Lodge Kerrigan, who keeps us with Keane every step of the way, but without Lewis, the movie would fall to pieces. (Paul C.)

Erland Josephson in anything, really, but why not either he made with Tarkovsky, and specifically, why not The Sacrifice? Or, of course, any of his Bergman films. I actually think he has only gotten better with age, somehow, and in Saraband he's almost better than in Scenes from a Marriage, if that's possible.
(Ryland Walker Knight)


Mimi Rogers - The Rapture. It's totally criminal that she never got an Oscar nomination. (Robert)

Jennifer Lopez in Out of Sight, for all those people who say she can't act her way out of a four-door toolshed. (Patrick)

Anton Glanzelius in My Life As A Dog, as an example of the extraordinarily unaffected style that Scandinavian directors seem to be capable of coaxing from young actors (see Zappa or Twist and Shout for further evidence). (Gareth)

Melvyn Douglas in Ninotchka. He has been completely overlooked in that movie, probably because of the whole "Garbo Laughs" thing. (Stennie)

Jeff Goldblum in The Fly. One of the all-time great, heartbreaking performances. Goldblum incorporates the makeup so seamlessly into his performance that when Brundlefly becomes pure special effect, the transition is seamless. (Bemis)

Claude Rains in just about anything. (Edward Copeland)

Kate Winslet in Hideous Kinky. Ewan McGregor in Shallow Grave. Hugh Laurie in every episode of House. Bill Murray in Tootsie. Michel Blanc in Monsieur Hire.

BONES MCCOY WAS IN NIGHT OF THE LEPUS O YES. (xterminal)

Joan Fontaine in Letter from an Unknown Woman. Sister Olivia still gets mentioned and is remembered (largely for Gone with the Wind, among non-cinephiles) but Joan is criminally underdiscussed. Letter is a superb performance, easily in a class with that of Danielle Darrieux in Earrings of Madame de..., in which Joan takes her character believably from age 14 to her early 30s. (Campaspe)

The lack of an Emmy nomination reminded me just how powerful Gerald McRaney's performance was in Deadwood, and how surprising it was to see this long-time actor suddenly pull out this amazing stuff, seemingly out of nowhere. It's a good reminder that perhaps there are more amazing actors around than we realize, that opportunity and experience have a lot to do with it. (Lucas McNelly)

21) Louis B. Mayer or Harry Cohn (Studio Head)?

Harry, if only because he stayed true to his principles and ideals and pissed everyone off. (Flickhead)

Mayer, because of his last words: "Nothing matters! Don't let them worry you. Nothing matters!" (Adam Ross)

Are you joking? The man with world wired to his ass. Louis B. Mayer was a pox. (Robert Fiore)

Harry Cohn because he might have had less to work with, yet still gave us Frank Capra, Peter Lorre, Rita Hayworth and The Three Stooges. (Robert Daniel)

22) Favorite John Wayne performance

As an actor, his finest two hours are in Red River. But my favorite is Stagecoach. He was so beautiful, he had such grace and innocence in that part. His gentlemanly way with Claire Trevor: "Looks like I've got the plague, don't it?" (Campaspe)

Blissfully unaware of the gay innuendo floating about Hatari!, one of Hawks’s great comic masterworks. (Flickhead)

The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. I identified with his character when I first saw it, about eight years ago. If John Wayne had played that character as a fat 24 year-old who worked at a Barnes & Noble, and who hadn’t been in a fight since the 7th grade, and never fired a gun, then it would have been like looking in a mirror. (Bill)

I always thought of John Wayne as a non-actor who happened to latch on to great directors. This changed when I saw They Were Expendable, the nuance and emotion in the role surprised me, so much that I look a little more carefully at what Wayne is doing in his movies to come. (Cerb Chaos)

The Searchers, for the line reading of "That'll be the day" alone. I have a pet theory that whether or not you like John Wayne depends on how well you got along with your father. If you can see the value in authority figures then you can appreciate him. He had this quality, as an actor at least, where in any group of men it's obvious that he is the best man in the group. Nevertheless, back when it was a political issue, I always bristled at the notion that he was the definition of American manliness. It's not as if Hollywood had not served up more dimensional and attractive male icons: Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant, Fred Astaire and Groucho Marx, to name a few. You might admire John Wayne's qualities, but you wouldn't want to be John Wayne yourself. (Robert Fiore)

"Truly this man was the son of ghaaad." (Filmbrain)

McQ!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Okay, The Searchers and Rio Bravo, but those don't feature GIANT '70S CARS.) (Bandit)

The best John Wayne movie is The Searchers, but his best role is Sheriff John T. Chance in Rio Bravo. It’s a definitive performance, perfectly summarzing everything that makes John Wayne John Wayne. (Bemis)

I’m sure there’s a John Wayne movie out there somewhere that I’ll like, but I haven’t found it yet. (Walter)

There are so many. Obviously, there's The Searchers, and all those other Ford films, but the Wayne performance that keeps coming to my head is from a commercial for the DVDs of one of those old variety shows. John Wayne shows up on this show, and I think this is during the 60's, in military garb to recite a poem: "Roses are red. The grass (?) is green. Get off your buts. And join the Marines". I always get a kick out of that. (Lucas McNelly)

23) Naked Lunch or Barton Fink?

Barton Fink to the max. One of my favorite endings ever. (Pacheco)

Milhous: "We're going to sneak into an "R" rated movie."
All kids chanting together: "Barton Fink, Barton Fink..." (Jonathan Lapper)

Barton Fink, though as often happens with the Coen brothers it doesn't hold up that well on repeat viewings. (Robert Fiore)

I'd have to go with Naked Lunch for the Roy Scheider unzipping scene alone. (Alonso Moseley)

What is this, a 1991-cult-movies-about-writers-starring-Judy-Davis Deathmatch? I love both of these, but only one gives me that Barton Fink feeling. Plus no performance in Cronenberg’s film even comes close to John Mahoney as W.P. Mayhew. Kind of sad that most of America thinks of the guy only as the dad from Frasier. (Paul C.)

I love Cronenberg, but I always thought Naked Lunch was a bit diffuse, even though I enjoyed the ride. So Barton Fink it is—we smart-alecks have to stick together. (Matthew)

I responded poorly to Barton Fink back in college and have never revisted it. Naked Lunch may not be top-rank Cronenberg, but it's still excellent. (Brian Darr)


Naked Lunch by a long shot. Like The Unbearable Lightness of Being, totally unlike its source novel, but wonderful in its own right. (Thom McGregor)

24) Your Ray Harryhausen movie of choice

Special effects aside, so many of them are rather staid and dull. However, he worked well with Nathan Juran: The 7th Voyage of Sinbad and First Men ‘in’ the Moon are great adventures. And The Golden Voyage of Sinbad is, uh, Caroline Munro’s, ahem, finest hour. (Flickhead)

If I have to choose, Jason and the Argonauts, but I always found his stop-motion too fake looking to sustain the illusion of life. (Robert Fiore)

Clash Of The Titans. Laurence Olivier and Harry Hamlin! (Sean)

Clash of the Titans, whose Harryhausen creations manage more substantive performances than Harry Hamlin. (Schuyler Chapman)

All the Sinbad movies. I just can’t get enough of the fighting skeletons. (Cinebeats)

Clash of the Titans I love it when, as the disgruntled goddess Thetis, Maggie Smith loses her head. The ’61 version of The Mysterious Island is also pretty good. And does anyone remember The Valley of Gwangi? (Tim)

Jason and the Argonauts. The army of skeletons might be the greatest special effect of all time. (Bemis)

To go all-meta and shit, and also because I’m lazy, I’ll paste what I wrote about a year ago on the subject: “Jason and the Argonauts is great because of Ray Harryhausen’s special effects, a herky-jerky blend of stop-motion animation, puppetry, models, and elaborate set design. By today’s standards, the effects are dated, but that’s part of the appeal—they feel homemade, personal, almost done by happy accident. I sat on the living room couch with my stepdad, watching this movie more times than I can count. The story’s trite, the acting mediocre, and the writing is a little thin, but it’s a blast that’s soured me on the modern CGI that aspires to photo-realism and has inured me to the ‘authenticity’ of the effects behind current, trillion-dollar summer blockbusters.” (Walter)

Is this a trick question? Jason and the Argonauts, of course! The skeleton scene is one of the greatest things ever committed to celluloid. (Eric)


Jason and the Argonauts. I saw that the first time when I was about seven years old, and while it's hard to imagine in today's CGI world, that shit was boss. There's a scene I still remember as if I'd just seen it (and god, I hope it's from this movie, because otherwise I will be horribly embarrassed), with the giant and the achilles heel and the stuff that looks like brake fluid that comes gushing out after Jason nails him...
(Has anyone noticed how many of these questions could conceivably be answered with Clash of the Titans? Just wondering.) (xterminal)

25) Is there a movie you can think of that you feel like the world would be better off without, one that should have never been made?

Passion of the Christ. I tried to watch it with as open a mind as possible, giving Mel his chance. (Peter Nellhaus)

I’ve always felt that the popularity of Star Wars foreclosed the maturity that was blossoming in 1970s American film. So many good directors foundered in its wake. (Flickhead)

JFK. I might as well mention now that politically I lean in a slightly different direction than most of the people on this board. And while people of all political stripes can and do revile bad history in movies, with this film Stone legitimized a particular kind of thinking that I find abhorrent. To me, there is a direct line between JFK and Loose Change. You can probably guess how I feel about Michael Moore, so throw his movies in there, too. (Bill)

Even though it's one of my favorite movies, and speaking strictly in evil tones: Citizen Kane, just to see what films would have been like without it. (Adam Ross)

I don’t think that there are any reasons (artistic, political, historical) that we need to keep Bicentennial Man from disappearing forever. (Cerb Chaos)


Scarface (1983). I love De Palma, but gag me with a spoon… (Derek)

No, I don’t think so. Creatively bankrupt bad movies are forgettable enough that nobody misses them when they’re gone, and out-and-out fiascos are at least interesting in their badness. So while I’m getting really sick of hearing people tell me how awesome Garden State is, I don’t begrudge people their favorites, just as I hope they don’t begrudge me mine. (Paul C.)

Basic Instinct would be the closest, I guess. Not a single redeeming quality in any character in the entire film. It also gave Joe Eszterhas full employment for years afterward. (Bob Turnbull)

I can't think of one. Even Triumph of the Will gave us the fascinating spectacle of Riefenstahl's attempted self-rehabilitation. (Matthew)

Most of those made by Michael Haneke but specifically Cache. Oh, and Nacho Libre. (Ryland Walker Knight)

Not at the moment. Whether that's more because I'm too much of a fatalist, or because my memory is lousy, I'm not sure. (Brian Darr)

If The Conqueror hadn't been filmed on a set contaminated by nuclear fallout, not only would we have been spared a horrid movie, but John Wayne, Susan Hayward, Agnes Moorehead, and dozens of others would have been much less likely to get cancer. (Patrick)

Pleasantville. For all of the reasons that Robert Fiore already listed to describe Altman’s O.C. & Stiggs: “smug, self-satisfied cynicism, a contempt for his targets that defeats satire.” It’s so axiomatic it’s practically a punchline that analogies fall apart when taken too far, but Pleasantville took a semi-clever metaphor and extrapolated it to incoherent allegory. (Nobody)

300. Watching it with a psyched audience was like being at Nuremberg. (Bemis)

The Fast and the Furious. I've never seen it but I hate everything about it. (Frankneck)

I could give a lot of frivolous answers here, but in general I do not think movies make the world worse. I suppose you could make a case for Jew Suss or some other propaganda, but even then I think those movies could have served as warning sirens if good people had paid attention at the time. (Campaspe)

Schindler's List (Filmbrain)

The Matrix, if just because then I wouldn't have had to spend so much time listening to people go on and on about how brilliant it was, how deep and philosophical it was (even though it was nothing more than a bunch of big words and abstract thoughts strung together to sound profound), how ground-breaking the special effects were (conveniently forgetting the fucking Gap ad that pre-dated it), and just how cool it was (ok, I'll concede cool). But more than that, it brought us even more splashy sci-fi films with threadbare plots and even worse dialogue. "You can't die, Neo, because I love you." Oh give me a break.

Pet peeve: you hear all these filmmakers sit around bragging about how long they had to work on the special effects before they could even start filming, how they had to develop whatever technology or whatever. And the scripts always suck (think Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow). And I'm always thinking, "You spent four years on this. In all that time, it didn't occur to you to make sure you had a passable script?" (Lucas McNelly)

26) Favorite Dub Taylor performance

That’s easy: Cottonmouth Gorch in Theodore J. Flicker’s Soggy Bottom, USA. (Flickhead)

You mean Cannonball? There's an actor you don't think of everyday. I guess Bonnie and Clyde would be the most well known. I'll go with Used Cars. (Jonathan Lapper)

Who? (Cerb Chaos)

All I know is that I always smiled whenever I saw him pop up somewhere. And it looks like he has a documentary of his own!

Dr. Peabody in The Reivers. (Peter Nellhaus)

Any of his work for Peckinpah, and the part of Mitch Brady in Hazel (where he courted the mighty Shirley Booth). (Thomas Mohr)

Still trying to force those of us who don't obsess over every slightly familiar-looking character actor over to your ways, huh? (Brian Darr)

He was in Used Cars, and that's good enough for me. (Patrick)

1941 (Bemis)

27) If you had the choice of seeing three final movies, to go with your three last meals, before shuffling off this mortal coil, what would they be?


2001: to meditate to. And for wish-fulfillment: "maybe I'll come back as a starchild." The Thing from Another World: to view others in isolation and keep me from wanting to eat any vegetables for my last meal (hey, I'm going to die, I should gluttonize). Sunrise: To let me know there is order to the universe. (Jonathan Lapper)

Erich von Stroheim’s Greed, Anthony Mann’s Thunder Bay and King Vidor’s The Fountainhead. No need to go on after that trio. (Flickhead)

I'm not going to choose the deepest, most profound films because that would just depress me before I die. So we'll start out the day with Billy Madison. Pure fluff, nothing heavy, and I'll watch it while eating some scrambled tofu, veggie bacon, veggie sausage, and toast. My lunches are always light, so I'll watch Annie Hall. It keeps me going, it makes my day ten times better, and it makes me laugh every time. A grilled cheese sandwich and plenty of pizza would go well (yes, I consider that light). And for my final meal, I'd watch my favorite film of all time, Boogie Nights. I rarely watch the film so that when I do, it's always new and surprising. It's heartfelt, it's stylish, and it's so much fun. The film got me to fall in love with movies and moviemaking, so I owe it. Watch it while eating some Puerto Rican-style rice and beans (red), tostones, vegetarian scallops, and wash it down with a Malta. Thanks for the memories. (Pacheco)

The Wild Bunch (a movie about dying), Bicycle Thieves (a movie about living) and Sirens (a movie about beautiful naked women). (Adam Ross)


If I was staring death in the face I don't think I'd be in a frame of mind to enjoy movies, so I'd be watching things to support my deathbed conversion case: King of Kings, The Ten Commandments, Ben Hur, that sort of thing. If we were to re-frame the question as which three moviegoing experiences I'd like to re-live as I'd first experienced them, they would be: (1) The Miracle of Morgan's Creek. I swear I've never laughed so hard at a movie. By the end I was leaning in my seat at a 45-degree angle, literally stomping on the floor with my foot. Never the same impact afterwards, however. (2) Animal House. One of the rare times I felt the need to sit through a movie twice. (3) Children of Paradise. I first saw it in an advanced state of lovesickness, which left me susceptible to it like walking barefoot in the rain with a cold. (Robert Fiore)

I’m tempted to be a smartass and answer Satantango, Out 1, and Berlin Alexanderplatz, but if I knew my life was going to be over once the third movie was finished, I’d want to pick movies that would make me forget that. First, Belle de Jour. As I said before, my favorite, and as such a given under the circumstances. Second, A Hard Day’s Night! For me, there are few films more joyous. And finally, 2001: A Space Odyssey, because if I knew I was about to travel beyond the infinite, I’d want a film to take me there. (Paul C.)

It’s a Wonderful Life, The Ninth Configuration, 2001: A Space Odyssey. Hey, I’m scared of death. If I’m shuffling off, I’d prefer some movies that suggest that there’s more to it than roughly 70 or so short years and then . . . nothing. I’d take comfort in movies that imply that this is all part of something bigger and that there might be something “beyond the infinite.” If I’m wrong, at least I won’t know it. (Robert Daniel)

Eight and a Half, Big Deal on Madonna Street and The Organizer. (Peter Nellhaus)

I would want to expire as Mirror fades to black but before that I'd probably want to watch The Empire Strikes Back (for the nostalgic fun) and The Thin Red Line (despite its weight, I can't escape naming that film). (Ryland Walker Knight)

James Cruze's Hollywood, Ernst Lubitsch's The Patriot, and Tod Browning's London After Midnight. (Brian Darr)


Duck Soup, Monkey Business, and Horse Feathers. I often wish I had never seen these movies (or any of the rest) so that, in my darkest hour, I could watch them for the first time. (M. Peachbush)

If I had to choose three movies knowing that I was about to die, I’d want to have a blast on the way out. I’m going to choose three films that were among my most enjoyable big-screen experiences, films I enjoyed with packed houses hanging on the story, jumping at the shocks, or laughing at the gags, so I’ll choose Back to the Future, The Commitments (to remind me of home), and The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, simply to remember the extraordinary feeling that was coursing through the theatre as the curtains parted. I'd probably thrown in an honorable mention to The Rules of the Game, because I've never thought of film in quite the same way since, and seeing a film like that on a big screen is a rare privilege. (Gareth)

This is a ridiculously tough question Dennis! I just spent way too much time thinking about it and I know I’ll regret my choices tomorrow. Just for today I would probably start my morning with Frankenstein (1931) and follow it with The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). If at all possible I would try and sneak in a double feature of Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources in there somewhere and top it off with a screening of Citizen Kane. Last but not least, I would watch all these movies at the beautiful and historic Castro Theatre in San Francisco where I happened to meet my husband for the first time.

Ridiculously hard question. I think I’d want to go out on seeing the sorts of films that have a warmhearted yet unsentimental view of humanity, so I’ll go with Bicycle Thieves, Grand Illusion, and maybe City Lights for a finale. (Daniel L.)

My Fair Lady (there must be singing); Jesus of Montreal (for some proper perspective); The Big Lebowski (exit laughing) (Weigard)

Kiss Me Deadly, Seconds, Lisztomania (Robert)

When it comes down to it, who wants to spend their final hours in this world watching Godard? Give me The Empire Strikes Back for the best music and best lightsaber battle of the most fun movie trilogy. Not to mention thematically appropriate, sorrowful yet hopeful. For a light-hearted emotional release put on The Big Lebowski for me, a cheerful movie that even provides a degree of solace: “The Dude abides. I don't know about you but I take comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there, the Dude, takin’ ’er easy for all us sinners.” Then if I needed some bucking up before facing the executioner, not much could equal the tear-jerking resolve of Ronald Colman in A Tale of Two Cities: “It is a far, far better thing I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest I go to, than I have ever known.” Of course some of its impact would be lost if I’m being punished for a crime I committed, but it would presumably ensure I don’t resent it. Unlike Sydney Carton at least I’m getting what I deserve! (Nobody)

In no specific order, A Canterbury Tale, Night Of The Hunter, and Holiday. (Chris S.)

Berlin Alexanderplatz, Andy Warhol's **** and Out 1: Noli Me Tangere (Weeping Sam)

Ooooh, great question. Thinking... thinking ... you want the meals, too? I'm not much of a carnivore, but so what -- I'm dying! (Strangely, I don't think there's any nudity in a single one of my choices. Not very good condemned-man behavior, I know, but art always seems to win out.) I think I would want to see Simple Men one last time. And it ends on a beautiful note -- Robert Burke's character finds comfort in a woman's love, saving himself and saving her, just as he's being arrested. A lobster bake might be appropriate to the Long Island setting.

Since the theme for this, my ending scenario, is being condemned, I'd also want to see a thoughtful drama somewhat along those lines -- Spike Lee's 25th Hour fits the bill nicely. I'd probably want a little sirloin or brasciole -- feasting on the red meat of life, as it were; it's not imperative though. It'd be more important to me to have 25th Hour co-star Rosario Dawson as a dinner & movie companion -- it doesn't seem like TOO much to ask, considering my looming fate -- and I'd even let her choose the menu.

Finally, the one I want burned in my brain even as I go into the light is Love and Death -- one of the funniest philosophical movies ever made. Serve me a nice juicy Chicken Kiev and some white wine, and something sinfully rich and covered in chocolate for dessert. That, and a little laughter, Woody, Diane and Prokofiev, should soften the blow of my impending death.

If for some reason a print of any of these is not available, I would request Last Tango in Paris as an alternate choice. (there, I finally went for sex and nudity!! -- but also, you know, in a good, thought-provoking film.)

Of course, after all this I would want Bruce Willis to bust into the gas chamber with a shotgun (and some Alka-Seltzer) and say he'd have been there sooner but "traffic was a bitch." He wouldn't have to carry me out or anything... (Dn Aloi)

An Adam Sandler marathon would doubtless put me in the right frame of mind to welcome death. (Eric)

28) And what movie theater would you choose to see them in?


The Cleveland Uptown Cinema on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, D.C. One of the last Movie Palaces left. (Jonathan Lapper)

The theater at McMenamin's Kennedy School in Portland, to ensure that my last meals had plenty of good pizza and beer. (Adam Ross)

The best place to see a movie that I know of when the lights go down is the Arclight. Best for surviving movie palace décor is the Pantages in Hollywood. For sheer atmospheric seediness nothing could beat the old World Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. It should have been called the End of the World Theater. (Robert Fiore)

At home on an HDTV with friends and family. (Robert Daniel)

The Ziegfeld, NYC. (Peter Nellhaus)

Coronet? Or The Grand Lake, for the nostalgic fun. (Ryland Walker Knight)

San Francisco's Fabulous Fox Theatre on Market Street. (Brian Darr)

A huge movie palace somewhere I’ve never been, with a balcony where I could put me feet up; I’d definitely get the biggest popcorn for once. (Gareth)

Don’t care. Just one with a projectionist worth his salt. (Daniel L.)

The Whiteside in Corvallis, Oregon, newly refurbished. (Weigard)

The Philharmonic Hall in Liverpool, where the screen rises out of the stage floor deus ex machina style. (Nobody)

I assume I'm in the hospital or in prison. (M. Peachbush)

Somewhere with good seats and functioning bathroom... and wifi, since I think this would worth live-blogging. (Weeping Sam)

One full of screaming babies. (Eric)

29) Your proposed entry in the Atheist Film Festival

In Kevin McDonald’s documentary Touching the Void, Joe Simpson relates his experiences of being trapped in a mountain crevice for days with no food and a severly broken leg. He was near death and he knew it, and yet by his own account, even in a situation that seemed hopeless, he couldn’t bring himself to believe in God. According to Simpson, it was this belief that nothing awaited him after death that inspired him to try to save himself. So many movies operate under the oh-so-pious belief that salvation comes through God (think of the Jesus/water bottle scene in World Trade Center) that it’s more than a little bracing to hear the other side of the coin. Many devout people treat atheists as merely lapsed believers, waited to be jolted out of darkness, but Simpson’s story tells us otherwise. (Paul C.)


Funny Games by Michael Haenke. I’m a believer and I can’t help but see a world without God as bleak. It’s not a strech for me to see this film as reflective of a godless world: characters who operate with absolutely no moral code or conscience, who seek only instant, sadistic gratification; victims who have no escape, no hope of a savior, who face nothing but torment and despair, then darkness. (Robert Daniel)

Bill Paxton’s Frailty (Thomas Mohr)

Come & See’s ethnic cleansing is about as far from any righteousness as it is possible to get. Proof positive that we're probably on our own in this mess. (Giles Edwards)

Winter Light, a film that finds only silence in the search for God while still dignifying the search itself. (Bemis)

For all you empiricists out there: Babe: Pig in the City or My Neighbor Totoro (Ryland Walker Knight)

Mike Leigh's Naked (Weeping Sam)

Microcosmos (Eric)

30) What advice on day-to-day living have you learned from the movies?

“Among the maxims on Lord Naoshige's wall, there was this one: ‘Matters of great concern should be treated lightly.’ Master Ittei commented, ‘Matters of small concern should be treated seriously.’” It’s originally from Hagakure, but I learned it from Ghost Dog, and it’s proven to be sound advice. Perhaps I haven’t gotten rich off of it, but it’s helped me stay levelheaded and relatively happy, which is nothing to sneeze at. (Paul C.)

From watching French new wave, esp. Clare's Knee, I noticed that men and women could casually touch and embrace. I had been raised in a cold, New England arms-length kind of culture, and I found that very appealing. Since then I've made an effort to open up physically, and it has made me a better person. Also, I learned not to get hung up on teenaged girls' knees. (M. Peachbush)

Beautiful, vivacious, quirky women are irresistibly attracted to moody, scruffy, brainy introverts. This knowledge is sure to pay off any day now. (Eric)

That every day occurrences are so much more poetic with a soundtrack. God bless the iPod. (Lucas McNelly)

Monday, December 17, 2007

Andrew Blackwood's SLAP

Well, here we have it, a first for Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule, the world premiere of a new film! It's by budding filmmaker, blogger and SLIFR O.G. Andrew Blackwood, it's entitled Slap, and I haven't the first idea what it's about or whether it's any good or not. (I do hope it's violent!) All I know is that it's four minutes long. And with that revealed, now we can go into this adventure together fresh as cow's milk. At Andrew's request, I'd like to invite all of you readers, lurkers as well as known entities, to watch the movie and then take a few moments to let Andrew know what you think of the project. He's open to all kinds of criticism, suggestions, praise and commentary. The only thing I ask it that the tone remain civil (however, in the odd event that there's something inflammatory in the movie, fire away!) and in the spirit of genuine interest in the movie. Hopefully it'll turn into a mini blog-a-thon, and perhaps Andrew himself will join in the conversation later in the day.

And now, without further ado, the world premiere of Andrew Blackwood's latest short film, Slap.


Slap
Uploaded by adrianbetamax


Well, that was interesting...

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REMINDER: LESS THAN TWO HOURS FROM NOW...A WORLD PREMIERE MOTION PICTURE EVENT!

Just a reminder, folks-- the world premiere of Andrew Blackwood's new film Slap will occur right here at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule TODAY AT 12:00 NOON! Here's what I reported on Friday:

"A few weeks ago I highlighted a film by SLIFR reader and budding filmmaker Andrew Blackwood entitled Elements. Andrew has been deep into a filmmaking class taught by Matthew Harrison, who is part of the Film Crash collective of directors and producers, and hw has been coming up with some very good stuff in this workshop. Next up from Andrew, a four-minute short entitled Slap that will premiere right here on SLIFR this coming Monday at 12 noon. I have not seen it; I know nothing about it; but based on my own reaction to Elements, when Andrew proposed the premiere idea I took him up on it because I saw a unique opportunity not only for him to showcase his film, but also for SLIFR readers to watch it and submit their own uncensored reactions to it. As anyone who has made films (or any kind of art) knows, the honest reaction of viewers is one of the best tools to shaping, refining and defining your approach to your work, and honest reaction, both positive and negative, is what Andrew seeks.

I’d like to specifically invite those SLIFR readers who are themselves bloggers and film critics to submit their reactions and reviews either in the comments column or in direct e-mails to me. I will publish those reactions and reviews here and turn Monday into a Slap mini-blog-a-thon of sorts. It might be an interesting exercise in looking and immediately responding to a piece of work without the slightest bit of context or pre-awareness. No need to let me know ahead of time if you’re interested in participating— just jump in on Monday!"


Again, its happening today at 12:00 noon, so be sure to stop by, take a look at the film and post your reaction right here in the comments column. We'll have ourselves a mini-Slap blog-a-thon and give Andrew the positive (and negative) feedback that will help him on his journey as a filmmaker.

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Friday, December 14, 2007

THE WRIGHT STUFF FINALE, plus SLIFR HOLIDAY LISTS, LINKS and PROMISES OF STOCKING STUFFERS TO COME!


It’s been a while since I’ve served up a weekend reading list, but I’m slowly but surely getting in the end-of-the-year/Christmas/New Year’s mood and it seemed like, what with the stack of printouts of articles to read growing ever higher on my desk, that I really should make some effort to pass along the treasures. I’ll have some treasures of my own next week, including a new quiz from the latest faculty member of SLIFR (he used to hang around in a big house with some other professors and a very sexy lady in a sparkly dress), the SLIFR Christmas Wishes List, and maybe even my own Top 10 and other 2007 awards, posted in a somewhat more timely manner than usual, even though there are many films I have yet to see. (What’s new?)

Also, while we’re talking about movies to see (Los Angeles Division), I have to own up to an incredible missed opportunity on my part to talk about the film geek university classes that have been going on down at the New Beverly Cinema since the beginning of December. Remember “Grindhouse 101” in April and May of this past year? Well, no less a cinematic dignitary than Edgar Wright, director of Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz and the brilliant Amicus send-up Don’t! has been holding court at the New Beverly curating his The Wright Stuff series. A click here will, like a knife in your heart, show you what you’ve already missed. But it’s not too late: the Wright Stuff has one more weekend, and it’s a doozy: tonight and Saturday, December 14 & 15, Wright will showcase perhaps the swingin’ 60s double feature, Russ Meyer’s Beyond the Valley of the Dolls AND the one and only Monkees movie, Head, directed by Bob Rafelson, written by Jack Nicholson, and featuring cameos by Annette Funicello, Frank Zappa, Sonny Liston and more! This is perhaps the first double bill of an “X” and a “G” film in history! And the cherry on top? Edgar will be introducing Micky Dolenz before the show!



’Cause you need to see it again: Edgar Wright’s Don’t!

I’m already paying my psychological penance for having missed Edgar’s superb double bill of Mike Hodge’s Flash Gordon and Mario Bava’s Danger: Diabolik on December 5 (Edgar’s guests? Prince Barin himself, Timothy Dalton, and Joe Dante!). But I’ll not make the same mistake this weekend. I’ll be at the New Beverly Cinema at the head of the line on Sunday night to see the sharp pairing of Joel and Ethan Coen’s Raising Arizona and Sam Raimi’s essential Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn. Word has it that there will be surprise guests at Edgar’s elbow when he introduces the films on Sunday evening too! I hope to see you there—I’ll be the guy at the head of the line with the indestructible grin on his face. (If you’re not into the whole surprise thing, the double bill shows Monday night as well.)

And since we’re plugging the New Beverly Cinema, you might want to take note of the seasonal fare the Grindhouse Gang has in store on Tuesday: Bob Clark’s seminal Black Christmas along with the notorious-for-15-minutes Silent Night Deadly Night. Now there’s some spicy wassail!

On to the reading list:

One of my favorite film critics, Nick Schager, takes a look at Five Directors Who Shifted Gears for the Better and gives some love to one deserving director who I never thought I’d have much use for (take a guess). Also essential is Slant magazine’s Year in Movies 2007 featuring Nick and Ed Gonzalez’ refreshingly dissimilar top-10 lists. “This year saw the resurrection of the western in forms both classical (3:10 to Yuma) and revisionist (The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford),” writes Nick, “a comeback that speaks to the genre's enduring power, but also, perhaps, to a desire for conflicts more traditional and allegorical in nature than those provided by the literal-minded present-day war films that arrived in cineplexes to general indifference.” Both writers have lots more to inspire and provoke your passions. Don’t miss this column.


Keith Uhlich has also mounted a don’t-miss affair over at The House Next Door-- it’s a snazzy photo essay taking in ”Flames and Flashes of the Movie Year 2007 that will spur all sorts of connections and asides in your mind as you wrap up the movie year in your own head. Read the comments too.


Over at Cinema Styles, Jonathan Lapper has created an homage to one of my favorite pastimes and managed to insert me into it (sort of) as well. That’s all I’ll say except, please replace your speakers before driving home…


The excellent gathering of film critics at MSN have revealed their 2007 Year in Review. You can check out top-10 lists by some of my favorite movieheads, including Jim Emerson, Kim Morgan, Sean Axmaker, Dave McCoy and others. Also attached to the MSN holiday experience is the hopefully now annual return of what used to be a favorite feature in the Film Comment days of yore-- Moments Out Of Time, a poetically composed remembrance of great movie moments of the year courtesy of Richard T, Jameson and Kathleen Murphy.


Tangentially related, and yet not at all (huh?), is Jim Emerson’s 2007 Exploding Heads Awards (Part1), one of those delicious, caloric lists designed to jar your memory and make you go “How dare he!” and laugh out loud, often all at the same time. Naturally, part 2 can’t come fast enough!

“The golden rule, I guess, is - unless you're doing something that's absolutely a clear-cut commercial venture like a sequel to a very successful film - to follow your interests and see where they lead. Because you never know what ultimately is going to be successful. The Godfather - in the months before it came out - there was a general feeling that that film maybe wasn't going to work. Certainly when Apocalypse Now came out it was critically not very well received. But if you can just keep going, that's the key. Sometimes the films aren't well-received when they come out but then people look back on them later with great fondness and say, `I'm so glad that film was made.'"

Over at the indispensable Green Cine Daily, Michael Guillen has a sit-down with Academy Award-winning master of sound and editing Walter Murch on the occasion of his latest collaboration with Francis Ford Coppola, Youth Without Youth.

“No other director invites us to take the medium apart and put it back together again in each film, as Godard does. There's much to be learned and pondered in that operation, for those willing to undertake it, and a fair amount to be enjoyed too: Like most Godard films, Pierrot le fou abounds with isolated moments of intense lyricism, the grace notes of an artist in love with the beauty of the ephemeral.” Godfrey Cheshire locates Pierrot le fou on the pop art scale right alongside Help! and Goldfinger.

We heard about this one a couple of weeks ago over at Kimberly’s pad, and here’s more info to get excited about: Sadie Frost will star in the first original Hammer Films production in many a bloody moon, Beyond the Rave.


Aaron Hillis bumps up against John Landis and Brian De Palma with mixed results.

Stumbling upon a mini-wave of interest in Laird Cregar, Peter Nellhaus checks in on the horror of the man who led Cregar to Hangover Square, director John Brahm.

And finally, I just felt like checking in on an old friend, and it turns out he’s up to plenty: Paul Clark at Silly Hats Only is getting ready for the 2007 Muriel Awards, but that’s not stopping him from having a lot of fun. Check out the latest round of Paul’s Famous Last Words feature, the first in what one hopes and assumes will be an ongoing series, The Movies of My Life, and the freshest installment of Paul’s When Good Directors Go Bad series, this one focusing on Ridley Scott’s 1492: Conquest of Paradise. Paul and I have a comically checkered history when it comes to this column—two of my favorite movies, 1941 and New York, New York, have recently come under the strafing of his keen observations. And now I’m sure Paul will insistI’m just being a nincompoop or a petty contrarian when I reveal that, no, I don’t think much of Ridley Scott as a director (Not “Good”) and yet, though I have never seen it on the big screen, I kinda liked the delirium of Scott’s Christopher Columbus tale. I realize I am quickly cashing in my chips at the Paul Clark Bank of Credibility, but I promise to give this one a fresh look before firing off a huffy comment!

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Coming next week: A look at the Best of Mr. Shoop’s Summer Quiz, the SLIFR Christmas Wish List, the World Premiere of Andrew Blackwood’s Slap, and a brand-new quiz from the newest faculty member at SLIFR University. Stay tuned!

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COMING MONDAY: A WORLD PREMIERE MOVIE EVENT!

(Click on photo for full-motion comedy!)

I’d like to announce something new coming soon to this very blog—a world premiere motion picture event! Yes, you read that right. A few weeks ago I highlighted a film by SLIFR reader and budding filmmaker Andrew Blackwood entitled Elements. Andrew has been deep into a filmmaking class taught by Matthew Harrison, who is part of the Film Crash collective of directors and producers, and hw has been coming up with some very good stuff in this workshop. Next up from Andrew, a four-minute short entitled Slap that will premiere right here on SLIFR this coming Monday at 12 noon. I have not seen it; I know nothing about it; but based on my own reaction to Elements, when Andrew proposed the premiere idea I took him up on it because I saw a unique opportunity not only for him to showcase his film, but also for SLIFR readers to watch it and submit their own uncensored reactions to it. As anyone who has made films (or any kind of art) knows, the honest reaction of viewers is one of the best tools to shaping, refining and defining your approach to your work, and honest reaction, both positive and negative, is what Andrew seeks.

I’d like to specifically invite those SLIFR readers who are themselves bloggers and film critics to submit their reactions and reviews either in the comments column or in direct e-mails to me. I will publish those reactions and reviews here and turn Monday into a Slap mini-blog-a-thon of sorts. It might be an interesting exercise in looking and immediately responding to a piece of work without the slightest bit of context or pre-awareness. No need to let me know ahead of time if you’re interested in participating— just jump in on Monday!

So keep your eye on this space Monday, December 17 at 12:00 noon for the world premiere of Andrew Blackwood’s Slap.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

FACES I LOVE #10: THE CANDICE RIALSON EDITION


The tribute I wrote on August 10, 2006 in the wake of the death earlier that year of Candice Rialson has become one of the most frequently visited articles in the SLIFR archives, which is I think probably a more telling tribute than the article itself. I have corresponded briefly with Rialson’s brother Scott, and today he inquired as to how he might post a portfolio shot of his lovely sister in the comments section of my piece. I told him I was pretty sure pictures wouldn’t post in the comments section (but, being somewhat technologically challenged, I couldn’t be sure), but I would gladly post it myself as an update on the piece. The picture Scott sent me, seen above, is so beautiful and captured so much of the homespun appeal and natural sexual presence of the actress that many of us know and love from movies like Hollywood Boulevard and Candy Stripe Nurses that I decided to give it its own post, a single shot version of “Faces I Love.” Along with the photo, Scott has sent along his great appreciation for all of his sister's fans and the concern shown by them here on this blog and in other places since her death over a year and a half ago. I have extended best wishes from myself and all the readers of SLIFR to Scott and his family for a happy holiday in the hope that the memory of Candice enriches the celebration of the season this year and makes it ultimately more meaningful.

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HOLIDAY E-NOG: A FULL METAL CHRISTMAS and MESSIAH OF EVIL

It’s my lunch (quarter) hour, and since it looks like I’ll be blogging on the run from here till Christmas, I wanted to take a couple of seconds to post a couple of videos in lieu of forthcoming actual content, one of which should make your holidays merry and bright. (The other is more appropriate for Halloween, but I don’t like to discriminate…)

The season-inappropriate clip is from the 1973 grindhouse classic Messiah of Evil, directed and written by Willard Huyck and Gloria Katz and released the same year as American Graffiti, which they also wrote. (Credit them also with the scripts for Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Radioland Murders, Lucky Lady, More American Graffiti and Howard the Duck.) I have yet to see Messiah of Evil myself, but with a cast like this-- Marianna Hill, Joy Bang (featured in the clip), Anitra Ford, Royal Dano and Elisha Cook Jr— none of us should deny ourselves for much longer. The clip itself is an eerie, wordless six-minute scene shot (I believe) inside and outside the old Fox Venice theater in Venice, California (Can someone confirm or deny this, please?) and captures exactly the vibe I’ve had at many movies where I felt like I was the only one there in the auditorium who felt the way I did about a movie, and it includes the gruesome, logical extension of that feeling of alienation. In fact, this actually happened to me once during a screening of Jingle All the Way when I started making snide, sacreligious remarks and pelting the screen with holiday-colored Sno-Caps. I have no idea how the scene functions in the movie, or whether there actually is a messiah of evil present (which might make the movie tangentially related to the holiday season after all, I guess), but as a single it’s top of the charts.



The second is one that has apparently been around for a couple of seasons, so those of you more familiar with the broad spectrum of Internet comedy than I am may have already been exposed to this little nugget of benign subversion. But even if you have, it’s funny enough that I’m guessing you won’t mind being steered its way again. It comes from the good folks at Stupid Videos.com (I don’t name ‘em, I just pass ‘em along), and it recasts the beloved holiday TV classic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in a somewhat more militaristic disciplinarian light. Not Rudolph’s relationship with Santa-- we already knew that was a clear case of opportunistic exploitation. And to my mind, Santa has to go a long way further to make up for his humiliating condescension toward our titular, glowing hero in the early scenes of the special than he ever does. No, this video zeroes in on the peculiar, nasty specifics of the tortured relationship between Hermey the misfit elf (here referred to, for some reason, as Private Joker) and the humorless martinet who runs the toy-making workshop, nameless in the special but here sounding an awful lot like R. Lee Ermey. So pour yourself a steaming mug of hot cocoa, nestle up next to the fire and have at a little yuletide cheer as we present “A Full Metal Christmas.”



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Friday, December 07, 2007

NINE QUESTIONS ABOUT ERASERHEAD


Late last week I got an e-mail from one Violet Lucca. I have no reason to suspect that Violet Lucca is not this person’s real name. She is a student at New York University, and if V.L. is her real name, then all’s the better, for it strikes me as one of the best names I’ve ever heard. I want Violet Lucca to grow up to be famous so I can one day say I got an e-mail from Violet Lucca before she was Violet Lucca! Anyway, Violet was stumbling around on the Internet in search of material on David Lynch’s Eraserhead and, through the magic of Google, no doubt, found herself amongst the SLIFR archives, where she uncovered the story, told by my best friend Blaaagh, of the time the two of us crept out of the movie in disgust the first time we’d seen it. Well, turns out Violet, who I am assuming is a film student at NYU, wanted to hear more, as she is writing a paper on how people reacted to Eraserhead when it first came out. Violet asked me if I would submit to some questions regarding the experience, which I immediately agreed to, and when I asked her if I could double up and post my answers for the amusement of SLIFR readers, she agreed as well. So, in the interest of informing the young, as well as preserving a place for myself in the Intolerant Moviegoers in the Presence of Future Classics Hall of Fame (I did redeem myself re the movie at a later date; I hope Violet asks me about that!), here then are my answers to Violet Lucca’s Nine Questions About Me and Eraserhead.

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1) How did you first hear about Eraserhead?
Since it was a film Lynch produced under the auspices of the American Film Institute, there may have been some mention of it in the AFI magazine American Film, to which I subscribed throughout the ‘70s. It premiered at the Los Angeles Filmex Film festival in March of 1977, and theatrically in New York in September of that same year. But I think the first time I was aware of it was in an article published around that same general period in Newsweek magazine. It was in an article about cult/horror films and some of the ones on the horizon that might be of interest. There were two or three others mentioned in the article, but the magazine’s description of Eraserhead, however ill-informed and misleading—I came away thinking the movie was an X-rated, gory horror shocker in the mold of Night of the Living Dead-- made it seem the most interesting. (And that may well have been—I don’t remember the titles of the other films.) Newsweek’s piece was accompanied by a shot on Lynch on the set—it might have been this accompanying picture, or perhaps another— and the article hinted strongly at the film’s underworld nightscape of twisted dreams, the concertina-wire ensnarement of domestic life, a mutated baby (the natural result of that hellish domesticity) and crater-cheeked singers warbling about transcendence from behind a radiator. It would be about two years from when I saw this article to when I first actually had an opportunity to see Eraserhead for myself. During that time, I imagined I could actually imagine what the movie might be like. Needless to say, I wasn’t even close.

2) Where did you first see it?
My best friend Bruce and I took a break from our studies one Sunday afternoon in the spring of 1979—it was not hard, as I recall, to pry us away from our studies—and walked into downtown Eugene from the campus of the University of Oregon, about a 20-minute walk at most, to a small art house called the Cinema 7. The Cinema 7 was a tiny auditorium tucked into a corner on the third floor of a very homegrown shopping mall called the Atrium Building. I had a lot of seminal college moviegoing experiences here. This is Werner Herzog Central, where all the German director's filmed played (and played, and often played again) – I saw Aguirre, the Wrath of God, The Mystery of Kaspar Hauser, Nosferatu and Woyzeck all at the Cinema 7. The spark that ignited my great love for Nashville got kicked up here. I saw Behind the Green Door here, as well as North by Northwest, Duck Soup, To Have and Have Not, Seven Samurai, Once Upon a Time in the West and countless other important contemporary and classic films. This is also where my love-hate relationship with just about any film that challenged my sturdy preconceptions of American narrative constructs took place. On that Sunday afternoon, Bruce and I took in a double feature that suggests we were not the only ones who had pigeonholed Eraserhead into very limited wacky-midnight-movie expectations—our $5.00 got us in to see Lynch’s movie along with its notorious co-feature Myra Breckinridge. Somehow we made it through Rex Reed’s transformation into Raquel Welch. That, somehow, was not the stuff to make us bolt for the exits, traumatized. Eraserhead, being the real deal, of course did.

3) How many people were in the theater with you that first time?
The Cinema 7 had, at most 75-100 seats, and that may be overestimating the situation. It was small enough that 16mm prints, especially of the older films shot in Academy 1.33 aspect ratio (an aspect ratio not instantly compromised by standard 16mm), were routinely screened, and the image was plenty bright enough. Both Eraserhead and Myra Breckenridge, if I’m not mistaken, were screened in 35mm, and the audience on that Sunday afternoon—the movies were booked for a very typical three-day run—was a smattering of what you’d expect for such an anticipated movie. (Even Myra Breckenridge, only nine years off its original run, was very rarely screened and carried with it a cache of, at the very least, novelty.) Had the Cinema 7 booked Eraserhead for a month or two as a midnight attraction it might have made more of a splash—by 1979 Rocky Horror mania had gripped Eugene’s other regular midnight movie source, the decrepit Mayflower Theater just off campus. But Eraserhead didn’t offer Rocky Horror’s decadent glam-rock good time, and besides, the Cinema 7 was pretty solidly committed to its repertory of popular porn films of the day-- Behind the Green Door was the figurehead, but it would occasionally rotate out with Deep Throat, The Devil in Miss Jones and another epic from Green Door’s Mitchell Brothers, Sodom and Gomorrah. So Eraserhead was limited, in its first couple of engagements in Eugene anyway, to standard repertory bookings and never did build up much of a cult following there on the big screen. The day we saw it, there might have been 40 paying customers.


4) Did you know of other people who had a similar reaction or saw it more than once?
As I suggested in the last response, Eraserhead was still pretty rarified viewing as far as the general student population was concerned. Campus screenings of everything from Fellini to Altman to Mizoguchi to Monty Python were available in fistfuls every weekend. But I don’t recall much of a movement on campus to get behind the film. And though I’m sure everyone who went to the same criticism and film production classes that were my staples throughout my last three years of school saw Eraserhead, I just don’t remember much discussion about it. A woman in my senior year film production class must have seen it, however. Her class project, a black-and-white homage to Kenneth Anger featuring her husband and his very proud penis slapped on top of the gas tank of a revving motorcycle in some sort of pre-Cronenbergian man-machine coitus scenario, also showed some visual, but even more aural evidence (the soundtrack faintly reverberated its biker rock as if being transmitted from behind that radiator) that Lynch’s movie, along with Anger’s, were among her influence.

5) Did you attend other midnight movies during that time? Were the audiences similar or different?
Well, as I said, I never saw Eraserhead as a midnight movie, though that was certainly how it gained much of its notoriety throughout its run in the ‘70s, so I can only imagine that its audiences at that hour were fairly typical—cult film aficionados, wild and crazy college kids, wilder and crazier high school kids, and perhaps even remnants of “head-trip” viewers who made lysergic experiences out of El Topo, 2001 and Fantasia (though any medically enhanced viewing of Eraserhead would, I would think, be a very bad trip indeed). I can’t help thinking that the same audiences who flocked to everything from Clockwork Orange, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Two-Lane Blacktop, Slap Shot and Yellow Submarine, to name just a few of the midnight movies I saw my freshman year of college, would have found something to get behind in Eraserhead. I attended midnight movies straight up through the end of my senior year, which was right at the beginning of the VHS-Beta years (some of the last ones were Peeping Tom, Sisters, Help! and The Duellists), and audiences always seemed to remain the same, even when the programming was monotonous and predictable. I like to think Eraserhead would have done very well as a regular midnight movie on the University of Oregon campus, but we never got to find out.

6) Do you remember how long it played? Did it have multiple runs in the same theater, or did it play elsewhere?
As far as I know, that spring 1979 booking at the Cinema 7 was about it as far as Eraserhead was concerned, although it certainly could have appeared after I graduated. (I left Eugene in the spring of 1981; the Cinema 7 lasted for a few years after that.) The only other place in town that would have touched it would have been the Bijou Theater, an art house that cropped up during my last year in Eugene. It was converted from an old mortuary—the main auditorium was where they used to display the open caskets—and it still does ripping business in Eugene to this day. So sometime in between 1979 and the present, it would stand to reason that Eraserhead might hae popped up in that grandly creepy venue at some point, but I don’t know for sure. I suspect that it got much more play in the homes of film fans throughout the city when it appeared on videocassette in the mid ‘80s—that’s certainly where my relationship with the movie was cemented.


7) What prompted you to walk out of the theater?
Walking out of a movie is a very rare occurrence for me. Until Bruce reminded me that we bolted from this one, I would’ve said that the only time I ever did was out of a screening of a movie called Turtle Diary starring Glenda Jackson and Ben Kingsley as two introverted and lonely souls who bond over trying to return some rare turtles out of captivity and back to the sea. Turtles as heavy metaphors for emotionally caged humans who just need to be set free from their inhibitions and phobias. Lots of close-ups of Ben Kingsley. Written by Harold Pinter. I fled, and I don’t regret it. But as far as Eraserhead was concerned, I don’t remember any specific conversation, but I can imagine it had a lot to do with seeing such a claustrophobic, oppressive, relentless, and relentlessly impenetrable universe in such a small, claustrophobic theater, knowing full well the light of day was just a door away. It was an offer we ultimately could not refuse. I regretted that decision for a long time afterward, simply because I knew what we’d seen on that screen was in many ways extraordinary. It was a chore to sit through, but only after a few days I remember wanting to give it another try. I wouldn’t get the opportunity for three more years, but when I did, that’s when the movie opened up to me as a singular, organic vision, not just as a piece of bleak set design and a series of randomly wacky occurrences.

8) Why did you go back to see it again?
I realize I’ve already partially answered that question—because it was eating on me that I’d dumped out of a movie that, even though I found it unpleasant, was like nothing else I’d seen before. Eraserhead was a movie in which I could sense the intelligence even though I had no handle on how that intelligence informed it. I also didn't know how that intelligence was able to access its at times ephemeral, at times anatomical (in both a biological sense and in how the interior structures we see were made to feel) imagery, or how that intelligence unified the film without tidying it up in a neat little Freudian package. I knew the key to the film wasn’t in pinning it down but in experiencing it and finding connections that may have been only specific to my own perception of it. And I was annoyed that I let myself talk myself out of having that experience. I mean, for God’s sake, I stayed to the bitter end of so many worthless movies in my college days-- Up the Academy, King of the Gypsies, Midnight Express, just to name a few. It annoyed me that I had more patience for those individual turds than I did Lynch’s movie. (Of course I’ve always considered that those movies, and hundreds more like them, simply petrified me with boredom, preventing me from doing the obvious thing and bolting like lightning.) Upon my first visit to Los Angeles in Spring 1982, I ran across Eraserhead again, this time on a double feature, ironically enough, with Night of the Living Dead. It was playing at the New Beverly Cinema, a place with which I would become intimately acquainted over the next 25 years. Not without some trepidation, perhaps fearful of what such a pairing might do to my fragile psyche—little kid alone in the big city and all that—I ponied up to the New Beverly box office for the privilege of having my dreams and my waking world shattered and expanded simultaneously.

9) How did you feel after you saw all of it?
By the time I finally saw Eraserhead in its entirety, I had already seen The Elephant Man, which David Lynch infused with much of the industrialized horror of his earlier, more intense inside-out "narrative." In a strange way, I had been prepared for the tangential oddities and visual schemata of Eraserhead by seeing the beloved later film that was its direct result. The 1977 film seemed at once stranger, and more accessible at the same time. It still wouldn’t fully speak to me until I saw it again a few years later, on videotape, even with the stark contrasts of Frederick Elmes’ cinematography flattened out by the unapologetically mediocre quality of VHS. It’s not a movie that depends on life experience so much as a way of seeing its world in the way that it does, though certainly Eraserhead draws on connections with real-life fragility and personalized terrors for some of its visceral, insinuating power. Anyone who was my age when I saw it the first couple of times (late teens, early 20s) would surely be able to tap into the near-universal fear of having your future closed off by a suffocating marriage, or even just the uncertainty of a future that might hold love, but also might hold endless nights where the clanking of pipes and hissing of radiators (and the warbling of those within) might be preferable to the howls and shrieks of a baby (unwanted?), even one far less obviously frightening and mysterious as the one in the film. When the movie finally did burrow under my skin for good, in the days of the marvelously weird and operatic Dune and just before Blue Velvet recast Eraserhead’s worldview into a oversaturated, picket-fence and Panavision-ized canvas of subterranean, primal madness and sensuous wavelengths of inexplicable evil, I watched it repeatedly, fascinated by Lynch’ unique methods, his ability to tap into moods and desires without making a big show of his peculiar mechanisms. After all these years, Lynch’s sensibility has been familiarized by exposure to more of his films, good and bad, and copied by filmmakers whose application of the term “Lynchian” to cover their own flimsy tracks with a patina of oddball humor or random violence has become increasingly desperate. Yet Eraserhead has aged well. It is of a certain time, but it is not betrayed by that time, and despite its slow seepage into film culture and, to the extent that David Lynch has become a brand name, into the culture at large, its effects remain elusive, its intent pleasurably masked by the dark heart of its games of time and space. It is not a horror film, yet it is at times horrifying. It is not a comedy, yet how can one not laugh at its absurd parody of courtship and, eventually, family dynamics? It may have had its reputation made on the midnight movie circuit, but it was never engineered to be a cult film. It is, of all things, sincere. Eraserhead plays as though it was never intended to be seen, like a precious and weird artifact from a bizarre universe, an interior projection of horrible, muffled, and horribly funny REM imagery. Still, tucked away in a dark, moist, brick-and-pipe-lined corner of an unknown basement, it finds its way into the hearts and minds of those prepared to see the world differently through its darkened eyes. It is the landscape of a mind, and the beasts within.

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Monday, December 03, 2007

FACES I LOVE #9: RANDOM EXPOSURES

"I think your whole life shows in your face and you should be proud of that."
- Lauren Bacall

"A man finds room in the few square inches of his face for the traits of all his ancestors; for the expression of all his history, and his wants."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

The expression of that history, along with the hope of youth, is the only unifying concept on display here for this ninth collection of Faces I Love. And I suppose that, other than the obvious classifications based on gender, these are the themes that always run through these collections. It's what keeps me turning away from the typical faces on display on every grocery counter tabloid-- not much fascination there-- and toward the ones that tell the story of interesting lives lived, or of potential, or of pain, or ones that hint at the depths of the soul. It's interesting that the last edition of this little photo gallery came almost a year ago, just before Christmas. It's not surprising that I look at displaying these "Faces" posts in the spirit of gift-giving, because when I see these faces myself I feel like I've received one.


Don Rickles The first live celebrity show of any kind that I ever saw was Don Rickles at Harrah's in Reno when I was about 15. Legend has it that my best friend's parents took us to see the show for no other reason that my friend's dad liked to hear me laugh. Well, hear it he did. Rickles, who was already a favorite, became untouchable that night and has remained so over the ensuing 32 years. The new documentary Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project debuted on HBO this past weekend and should be available on DVD soon.


Marcia Gay Harden Currently on view in The Mist, she plays local religious fanatic Mrs. Carmody, who preys upon the fears of townsfolk holed up in a supermarket who are besieged by unknown, possibly apocalyptic terrors. Harden's characterization goes far beyond the usual purview of cartoonish religiosity. Mrs. Carmody's fanaticism is located where her powers of persuasion intersect with her desire to hold a captive audience, to be listened to instead of sneered at. The actress buries the character's insecurities underneath a slightly eroticized layer of gathering confidence in her own prophecies of doom. It's a brilliant performance.


James Marsden Who knew Cyclops could sing? One of the great joys of seeing Hairspray this summer was the revelation of James Marsden as the toothy, angular, hilarious song-and-dance man Corny Collins. Marsden has thankfully now been forever freed from his association with the endless tide of anonymous WB-generation studs. Word has it he is equally Charming as that prince in Enchanted. I never thought I'd say it, but I can't wait to see him again.


Kelly MacDonald I first saw her, as many did, in Trainspotting, but I fell for Kelly MacDonald in Gosford Park, where she served as the "main" character, the human embodiment of Robert Altman's roving eyes and ears. Parts in Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story, Intermission, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and her Emmy-winning turn in The Girl in the Cafe have led to her current appearance as Carla Jean in No Country for Old Men. During breaks in being transfixed by her performance alongside Josh Brolin, just try to recall the native Scottish burr hiding under that authentic Texas drawl...


John Carroll Lynch The first time I was aware of Lynch was in the indefensibly enjoyable Volcano, where he appeared as an arrogant city engineer who gets swallowed up by some very unlikely lava. He's a hard-working actor who has had dozens of roles since then, and despite recurring roles on Carnivale and The Drew Carey Show most probably know him as Norm, Marge Gunderson’s supportive, sleep-deprived, fast-food-bearing husband Norm in Fargo. Unless you saw David Fincher's Zodiac earlier this year. His performance as Arthur Leigh Allan, the man who likely terrorized the Bay Area for years as the Zodiac killer, is insinuatingly, perversely, almost imperceptibly undercut by his apparent normalcy. He seems like every arrogant too-smart-for-his-job co-worker we've ever known, and hey, they might be killers too. His work here may eclipse even Javier Bardem's as the embodiment of unknowable evil.


Emma Stone I'm with Jonah Hill-- as a fetishized fantasy embodiment of what every high school guy wants in a smart, relatable girl, who wouldn't be moved to make a total ass of himself in Emma Stone's honor? Luckily for everyone else, she's got the sass, spirit and aplomb that shows us what she's got going on inside even if we're not as starry eyed over her as was the portly half of the Superbad team.


Torii Hunter Okay, so he's not gonna be a Dodger. He's an Angel now. But now I can go in person to see him snatch uncatchble balls from over the center wall, balls that had "home run" stamped on them from the crack of the bat, and toss 'em into the crowd grinning as the batter stomps back to the dugout. That face would've looked better in Dodger Blue, but even so, he's the first player the Angels have had since Darin Erstad, another balls-out center fielder, who has made me want to make the trek down to the Big A.


Julie Christie It's not the ravaging of Julie Christie's legendary beauty in Sarah Polley's assured, somewhat astonishing and thankfully unsentimental drama Away from Her that gets you-- by any standard, Julie Christie, at age 66, is still undeniably, classically lovely. No, the actress makes you remember that beauty and translate it into what you always thought of as her innate intelligence and spirit. And when the character in Polley's film begins to recede into the shadows of Alzheimer's Disease, the viewer translates a lifelong knowledge of the luminous spirit of Julie Christie to that character, making her loss even more palpable and wrenching.


Mandy Moore Okay, she's cute. I'm superficial. Okay? I was grateful for Southland Tales for no other reason than it gave me a chance to see her on screen-- to be sure, no wild animal of any sort could have dragged me to License to Wed or Because I Said So. But I do think she's got a quality of accessibility that other lovely pop star/actresses of her generation don't-- there's a genuineness about her that suggests fingerprints of a real person all over the surfaces of the kinds of pre-fab roles she's been seen in to this point. Thankfully, roles in movies like Southland Tales and Justin Theroux's Dedication suggest she may be ready for a welcome change of direction.


Jesse White He may be the Maytag man to you, but to me and my generation he's also one of the great character and voice-over actors of all time. What would Jay Ward have done without him? Or Stan Freberg? And he may have a face made for radio, as the slur goes, but even so it was a face the likes of which we don't see much of anymore. I miss a TV and film landscape that doesn't occasionally display with pride a craggy rock formation like Jesse White every once in a while.


Mary Roach She's written two of my favorite books of recent years, Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human cadavers and Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife, perceptive, respectful, irreverent and downright hilarious inquiries into places most journalists care not to go. But she does so with such wit and an honest desire to know that I was not surprised she would have a face to match that kind of literary voice. Mary Roach looks like someone I'd enjoy spending time with in a coffee shop, seriously discussing, and laughing and getting grossed out over the history of cadavers in medical advancement. Happily, that's how she reads too.


Toby Jones Nobody in the U.S. knew what Toby Jones looked like before that second Capote movie, Infamous, came out last year. Some may have heard him-- he voices an homonculoid character in those Jerry Porter movies the kids are so wild about. But he's basically known from British TV, stage and film, though his profile may soon be raised by his turn as Swifty Lazar in the upcoming Frost/Nixon. Right now, however, he's on screen in The Mist as the voice of reason, Ollie, a grocery clerk of no great importance who becomes such a stabilizing force than I was grateful and relieved every time he came into frame. Jones holds the camera like a great actor, with force and assurance, no small feat when surrounded by the people audiences have to choose from in The Mist. He's worthy of our gaze.