Fantastic Four (1994)

The 2021 So Bad It’s Good Blogathon is an event devoted to films commonly perceived as bad, yet enjoyable, hosted by Taking Up Room. For a complete list of participating bloggers, visit the link at the host site.

Fantastic Four (1994)

YouTube viewing

I don’t recall where I first learned there would be a movie based on Fantastic Four, my favorite childhood comic book—in one of Stan Lee’s editorial “Bullpen Bulletins,” perhaps. I specifically remember seeing a flyer at my local comic shop announcing the guy who played Reed Richards would appear for a signing. 

As time passed, and it became clearer the movie would not come soon to a theater near me, I was disappointed. This was before the renaissance of comic book movies that began with Blade and X-Men and Spider-Man and continued with Iron Man and the cinematic universes of Marvel and DC. Films like Batman and Robin and Superman IV taught me to lower my expectations.

Then the FF film went straight to video, and bootleg copies popped up at conventions. At one, a dealer played it on a small TV screen and I finally caught a snippet.

I believe it was the scene with the Human Torch flying. (I say “the scene” because it’s the only one in the movie!) I recognized it as the Torch; that was encouraging, no? Maybe it would’ve looked better on a big screen. Maybe it needed to be seen from the beginning for me to truly appreciate. It wasn’t fair to judge based on an out-of-context clip from a bootlegged copy shown at a noisy and crowded comic convention.

Besides, I had seen a few photos of the cast: they got the costumes right (except the “4” logo was so low it was practically on their stomachs), the Thing was massive and rocky like he was supposed to be (even if he kinda looked made out of papier-mâché), and they really overdid it with the grey in Reed’s hair, but the most important things were the acting and the story. As long as I could believe in the whole thing, the rest wouldn’t matter. One day I would see it and judge for myself.

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Books: The Dreams and the Dreamers

The 2020 Summer Reading Classic Film Book Challenge is an event in which the goal is to read and write about a variety of books related to classic film, hosted by Out of the Past. For a complete list of the rules, visit the website.

Hollis Alpert founded the National Society of Film Critics in 1966, when he wrote for the Saturday Review. Pauline Kael was a founding member.

Basically, they were a bunch of New York critics who couldn’t get into the more prestigious New York Film Critics Circle, which included major newspaper critics like the New York Times’ Bosley Crowther. Though they were New York-based, the magazines they wrote for had national circulations, hence their name. Every year they hand out best-of awards and are considered a major stop on the road to the Oscars.

Alpert wrote a number of novels and film-related books, including biographies of Federico Fellini and the Barrymore family. In 1962, he collected a bunch of his Saturday Review columns into a volume: The Dreams and the Dreamers: Adventures of a Professional Movie Goer. This is another book from Bibi’s library’s collection of discarded books that she sent to me.

This book was of interest because of the period it covered: the early 60s, when the Hollywood studios were on the decline. Alpert discusses the rise of foreign filmmakers, the actor-producer in Hollywood, film vs. theater, movie censorship, the pay-per-view TV experiment, and profiles people such as Alfred Hitchcock, producer Ross Hunter, and actress Jean Seberg.

In his introduction, he discusses the evolving perception of film and film criticism, as a result of what was then a new level of discourse: classes on film in universities, art house cinemas springing up in big cities, serious discussion of movies in other countries like France. He concludes this new audience needs a new kind of critic:

...The movie critic can no longer get by with a slapdash attack on one movie, panegyric of enthusiasm for another. More, whether he knows it or not, is demanded of him. He is expected to have some more than cursory acquaintance with the fields of literature, theater, philosophy, science, art, and music—for movies, inevitably, when they are serious, and even when they are not—touch on all these fields. Sad to report, the average movie reviewer, by and large, is simply not up to the movies he writes about. He may feel at home with a film in which Rock Hudson and Doris Day engage in a game of mistaken identities, but some other level of evaluation is required of him when he deals with Antonioni, Resnais, and Bergman (Ingmar, not Ingrid).

Hollis Alpert

I understand that much. Thanks to the Internet, I can sound like a big shot if I want to whenever I write about movies, and I grok the necessity of expanding one’s sphere of knowledge in evaluating a work of art such as film, but as I’ve said many times, I do not consider what I do “film criticism,” even now, ten years later.

I don’t actively search for the Big Meanings in movies or analyze the style of a particular director or actor unless I feel a strong need to, usually as a result of some personal connection I’ve made with a movie, and if I do, I’m as likely to disagree with the prevailing wisdom as anything else, for reasons I may not be able to fully articulate.

I’m just not that good a film writer. Besides, I like to have some fun in writing about movies, and at times that has meant writing in a... non-standard format. Long-time readers will know exactly what I mean.

Alpert’s writing is illuminating in some places, boring in others, yet definitely written from a distinct point of view. Not quite as lively as reading Kael or Roger Ebert, but as a portrait of world cinema in a critical time of transition, it’s not bad.

———————
Previously:
The Real Tinsel

What’s so pure about entertainment?

What’s wrong with the modern American cinema? Out of the top twenty films in 2015, why were twelve rated R, six rated PG-13, and not one rated G? The reason for these depressing statistics is a simple one: films are merely rated but not censored. In other words, all obscene content is allowed as long as audiences are warned of it. Many people complain about the shocking content of nearly every film released in this country, and moral Americans dream about times in the past when they could go to the theater and see good films. Not even all senior citizens remember a time when every film was decent.

This is the opening passage from a post on a blog begun in 2016 called the Pure Entertainment Preservation Society, originally written as a research paper by the blog’s creators, Tiffany and Rebekah Brannan. I first heard of the blog a few months ago, when I saw some bloggers taking part in one of the Brannans’ blogathons. The subject was the Hays Code, one about which the sisters know plenty: the bulk of their paper discusses the origins of the Code and its effects on Hollywood.

The Brannan Sisters are on a mission to not only educate their readers about the “benefits” of the Code on the American film industry, but to try to bring it back. They have a petition with which they hope to lobby modern Hollywood into making today’s movies more like those of the 1930s and 40s. To further quote them, “With films getting worse every year and the immorality in America rising to terrifying heights, something must be done to regain order. If America is going to change, Hollywood must change first.”

Friends and neighbors, I’ll be blunt. These women are severely misguided and wrong.

Here’s how.

Neighborhood links

Joker director Todd Phillips, previously known for his raunchy R-rated comedies like The Hangover trilogy, has said one reason he made Joker, a drama, was because it was difficult to make irreverent comedies, since audiences are more easily offended these days.

Is it true? The numbers don’t lie: when the tween comedy Good Boys opened at number one this summer, it was the first R comedy to do that in over three years. Once again, PG-13 appears to be the safer choice for Hollywood studios now; in a recent interview, Eddie Murphy, whose R-rated Rudy Ray Moore biopic Dolemite is My Name is playing on Netflix, confirmed as much. This Variety piece from 2017 also theorized a change in the culture, but cited the immediacy of late-night television as a factor...

...which brings us back to Phillips’ theory. I know my tastes have evolved over time. I don’t seek out R comedies (Murphy’s movie notwithstanding), but I don’t think I ever did—unless Kevin Smith made them. Why don’t I go to R comedies as much anymore? If I’m being honest, I suppose I want a little more... sophistication. All those Lubitsch and Wilder and Sturges movies made an impression! Plus, a movie like The Hangover works better if you go with friends, and practically none of my friends, who are over forty, like me, have any interest in them either.

Fear of being offended is not a factor for me (I laughed at the “porch monkey” jokes in Clerks 2), yet I can’t deny “woke culture” is a palpable presence these days. Twitter users are ready and willing to pounce on anything that carries even a hint of being un-PC, and if they have led to a decline in irreverent comedies, that would be a shame and a waste. It may be with the best of intentions, but I don’t like the thought of pop culture settling into a safe middle ground where everything is sanitized. If I choose not to see a Hangover-type movie, that should be my choice—and I should be free to change my mind without fear of censure. At the same time, I hope I don’t have that fear-of-offense attitude myself, but if I do, I’m gonna work at changing it.

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Lonergan (L), next to the Wyler sisters.
I don’t know who the moderator was.

Last month, Virginia and I had the privilege of attending a New York Film Festival screening of one of my favorite classic films, Dodsworth. It was a new restoration, screened at Lincoln Center’s Alice Tully Hall, and the daughters of director William Wyler, Catherine and Melanie, were in attendance for a Q&A, along with Manchester by the Sea director Kenneth Lonergan.

This was the first time I had seen it with an audience, and once again, I found the experience of hearing other people laughing at moments I didn’t necessarily find funny jarring. I’ve seen other film bloggers talk about this when it comes to old movies, and now I understand this feeling better: you see a film made in a different era, you connect with it, and then you see it with a crowd and that connection changes because others don’t react to it the same way you do. I doubt the audience thought Dodsworth was campy, and I don’t think they were being disrespectful; their reactions just rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t get like this when it comes to more recent movies, or if I do, the feeling’s not as acute. That’s the chance you take with an audience, but it’s okay.

Regardless, the restoration was beautiful. The Wyler sisters and Lonergan discussed casting, including William Wyler butting heads with Ruth Chatterton; Mary Astor’s great performance despite the scandalous divorce she was part of at the time; the overall acting; and the film in a historical context. Virginia loved the film, as I knew she would.

———————

I saw Ad Astra again, this time with Ann, who wanted to see it. I think I understand the movie better the second time around. As I explained to Ann afterwards, the bigness of the movie, the Kubrick-meets-Malick aspect of the storytelling and filmmaking might have blinded me to the humanity at the heart of it all, but the second viewing made it easier to see the characters as people, and I appreciate it better. If you wanna talk about it further, spoilers are allowed in the comments to this post.

More on the other side.

More about bingeing

Recently I got an email from my friend Alicia McLachlan in response to my post on TV bingeing. It was meant to be a comment, but for some reason Blogger wouldn’t let her post it. It’s big enough to be a post all its own, though, so since I kinda owe her one, I’m reproducing it here, with her permission. She’s studying to be a screenwriter, so her perspective on the subject is especially relevant.

Very insightful article! I was curious to see how this experiment went after first seeing your tweets about it. As an aspiring TV writer and avid viewer, I have mixed and evolving feelings on the subject. 

As a viewer, I have of course binge watched and enjoyed it. I don't know what the most ever was in one sitting, but I've definitely been through entire seasons in a day. More recently, I tend to stick to two episodes at a time, maybe three if I'm at a "really good part."

Looking at it from a writer's perspective, particularly with the business part of television in mind, I'm not so much a fan of a binge release for any show I may one day be lucky enough to have produced. Alongside the "communal experience," I feel like week-to-week distribution is better for a show's longevity. It allows for word-of-mouth publicity, which is free, which producers and marketing departments love! Whether that be at the old-school water cooler or on social media, the communal experience draws viewership out long term and allowing a chance for the audience to build (if the show is good of course). This in turn has the potential to drive more web traffic to support sites and side projects, including traditional media coverage like recaps and reviews, blogs and fan pages like this one, and even "in between" webisodes or post-show deep dive analysis podcasts. And it generates long-term interest that can turn into another season, and then another … 

How much is too much with streaming?

CBS All Access entices the Trekkies with
new original series like Picard.

Sandi and I were talking about the new Star Trek series, Picard. If you haven’t seen the new trailer, straight outta Comic-Con, behold. She had thought it was a movie, and I certainly couldn’t blame her; it looks like one in comparison to TNG or any of the older series, except Discovery, of course. (I really, really, REALLY hope this won’t be about the Borg again. Seven of Nine’s presence makes me think it might be—and there was that great big cube right there in the trailer. And that has to be B-4 from the movie Nemesis, with Data’s memories, perhaps?)

When I told her it was part of CBS’ streaming channel, All Access, she complained about how much she was already paying for the cable channels she has (extra for TCM) and how she doesn’t wanna have to pay even more. It’s an all-too-familiar argument, one I had made two years ago against Discovery, and it hasn’t changed now—and they have the nerve to call it “all access,” when it’s anything but.

Is a romantic subplot always necessary?

Patel and James in Yesterday 

Recently I had a burst of inspiration regarding my novel. Those of you who have been following WSW for a long time know this book has frustrated and challenged me in almost equal measure, but I had believed in the vision for my story, a baseball tale with a romantic subplot. One day, after reading a post about the need to declutter one’s manuscript, I asked myself: do I need the romance? I like it, I think it’s compelling, and it ties directly into the baseball stuff, but the more I’ve developed it, the more I’ve had the feeling it competed for attention with the baseball plot—and because it doesn’t have a happy ending, I can’t really call it a traditional romance (the romance book market has very strict guidelines for this sort of thing).

And here’s the kicker: when I first plotted this novel, I never thought twice about including a love story. My attitude came down to nothing more than “why not?” I think I even believed it was the sort of thing an audience expected. But is it really? And if so, why?

Yesterday’s links

I’m taking a longer summer vacation than usual to catch up on my fiction writing. If anything eventful happens, or if you wanna talk, I’ll be on Twitter (@ratzo318), but otherwise, I’ll return here on July 12.

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Add the City Cinemas Paris in midtown Manhattan to the endangered species list for movie theaters in New York. I haven’t been here much, but it’s a gorgeous one-screen theater that feels both modern and old school. I even remember the first film I saw there; it was Polanski’s Death and the Maiden, with Sigourney Weaver. Also saw Life is Beautiful. In recent years, I went there a few more times with my movie-going crew. Don’t know if I’ll make it back there this summer or not, but if it folds, New York will have lost another cinematic treasure.

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Not much else to say right now, so let’s go straight to the links:

Gill discusses an Australian TV show that was a launching pad for a number of future film stars.

Ruth reviews a book about a group of Bela Lugosi B-movies that may have more to them than meets the eye.

Le writes about Errol Flynn’s first feature film.

Virginie makes up some thematic double features.

Toy Story and the nature of consciousness and individuality. (SPOILERS)

Quentin Tarantino is still serious about making a Star Trek movie!

The surge in biopics and other films featuring popular music is fueled by branding.

The Lion King remake challenges the meaning of “animation.”

Robert De Niro is building a new studio in Queens.

Sony named a theater on their lot after the late John Singleton.

A film composer discusses his craft.

What is the top Canadian film of all time?

Neil Patrick Harris tries New York’s new subway fare payment system for the first time. (A system we should’ve had years ago, but whatevs.)

See you in two weeks.

The Binge Experiment

Binge-watching television has become such a natural part of our lives that sometimes we’re not even aware we do it. Part of it has to do with technology, in particular the evolution of home video, from VHS and DVD box sets to the DVR to streaming services such as Netflix. Part of it is the explosion of new cable networks that need something to put on the air before they develop original programming. And of course, part of it is the Internet, where you can upload entire seasons of old and new shows (I’m currently making my way through The Honeymooners on YouTube).

Some people take bingeing way too far, though, and last month I sought to understand why. I studied the binge phenomena in further depth by taking two streaming shows on Netflix, Ozark and Longmire, and watched the first seasons of both, the former one episode at a time and the latter all at once.

But first I asked my friends about bingeing.

Topper

The Greatest Film I've Never Seen Blogathon is exactly what it says on the tin, hosted by Moon in Gemini. For a complete list of participating bloggers visit the link at the host site.

Topper
YouTube viewing

Okay, first, I don't really believe Topper is the greatest film I've never seen before. I decided at the last minute to take part in this blogathon and I needed a film I could get my hands on quick, so to speak, so I chose this.

Here's a short list of "great" films I have yet to see: The Sound of Music, Alphaville, Throne of Blood, La Strada, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Seven Beauties, Wild at Heart, The Age of Innocence, Empire of the Sun and A Beautiful Mind.

Some I never saw because they didn't appeal to me, some because I never got around to it, and some I think are overrated. Perhaps I'll watch a few of them one day. Don't know.

A star is linked

Not a whole lot to talk about this month. Cynthia Nixon was robbed, the novel rewrite is going great, and things between me and Virginia are swell. The Neil Simon Blogathon is in a couple of weeks; there's still time to join Paddy and myself for the occasion, if you want in.

Let's jump straight to the links for once!

Raquel answers questions from her readers.

Ivan discusses the century-old comic strip Gasoline Alley and the two films inspired by it.

Jacqueline ponders whether this Depression-era film endorsed socialism.

Jennifer talks contemporary high school movies and compares them with her own experience.

Le writes about a very early Ernst Lubitsch silent film which challenges gender roles.

Variety's coverage of Cynthia Nixon's loss in the New York primaries.

What are Feedspot's choices for the Top 30 Classic Film Blogs?

The Wizard of Oz ruby slippers, after having gone missing for 13 years, have been found!

Gauging the truthiness of films "based on a true story."

Bullwinkle and political satire.

Is it possible liking trash cinema makes you smarter?

Claudette Colbert liked cooking desserts.

Armie Hammer hearts scooters.

Finally, best wishes to Crystal of In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood, who's recovering from surgery.

The Oscars and the art vs. commerce debate

Okay, I read all about this lame new Oscar category for "Best Popular Film" or whatever it'll be called, and I've given it some thought. I get that the Academy and ABC felt they needed to do something to make the Oscars relevant again, and I get that it's called show business for a reason, but this was not the answer. Columns like this reflect my position well. That said, I wanna examine this from a more personal angle.

In my former life, within the comics industry, I had begun my activity at a time, the early 90s, when what was popular truly was mediocre at best. I was in college, and my classmates and I were frustrated at this because we were getting lessons in the fundamentals of art and comics storytelling from industry veterans who didn't fall prey to trends.

Movies like Black Panther would be
a shoo-in for this new Oscar category.

Some of us young turks worked within the system, at Marvel and DC, to help bring about change. Most of us, like me, worked from outside by self-publishing our work or hooking up with small press publishers.

I didn't want to compromise my art by being a slave to trends, but you can bet your ass I still wanted to make money. I believe in the 21st century, it's rare, though not impossible, to find creative people who don't want or expect compensation for their work, but much depends on the audience and what they (think they) want.

"Best Popular Film" could have
benefitted recent blockbusters like Avatar.

With movies, a lot of the time they settle for what's most easily available, true, but these days, it's not uncommon to see a popular indie film playing alongside the latest blockbuster at the multiplex. (Over the past few weeks, I've seen Three Identical Strangers playing in small town, three-screens-or-fewer cinemas.)

Does that mean we, the audience, have become conditioned to choose the popular over the unpopular? Probably. If TCM is on, I'd sooner watch a Jack Lemmon flick over some B-movie starring actors I've never heard of. If I'm in the supermarket, I'd sooner buy a familiar brand name product than a generic version of the same thing. I think it's an inherent aspect of consumerism: the product that advertises better sells better.

As I learned with comics, however, popular doesn't always equal better, a mentality I had adopted for years and have found difficult to shake. In the mid-90s, I watched more indie films, in part, because that's what my video store co-workers, whom I was trying to emulate, watched. They tended to scorn Hollywood and I copped that attitude too.

Will future films like the new Star Wars
films profit from this category?

Most moviegoers, though, aren't like that. If they were, films like Spotlight and Lady Bird and Won't You Be My Neighbor would each make $100 million — and it's not like these films are inaccessible, artsy-fartsy meditations for aesthetes.

The Academy continues to honor these "art" films with Oscars over the "commercial" ones, though, and while we may wish this false dichotomy didn't exist, it does — and not just within the film industry.

Can the playing field be leveled so that all films, large- and small-budgeted alike, compete as true equals? Online streaming could hold the key to the answer. It may mean tearing down the old distribution model, which would make me sad — I enjoy seeing a movie in a theater — but maybe that's what it'll take. In the meantime, I don't see the art versus commerce struggle changing much.

Links and a fare-thee-well

Let the record show that the final movies shown at the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas were the following: A Ciambra, The Insult, Darkest Hour, My Coffee with Jewish Friends, Film Stars Don't Die in Liverpool, Happy End and Wonder Wheel. The final day of this beloved indy movie theater saw a packed house, with patrons and staff sharing memories and offering best wishes for the future.

I was one of a handful of people taking pictures of the joint, as you can see. It was tempting to pick a "souvenir" of some sort to take with me, but it wasn't like I could walk out with one of their framed movie posters under my arm — hence the pictures. I had never really noticed how much original non-film related art was in the lobby.

Vija was sick and couldn't make it; most of the others had already paid their last respects earlier this month, and some weren't interested in seeing Liverpool (I liked it), so it was just me and Sue from our film group who helped preside over the end, but we were part of a huge crowd for the movie. (More on it soon.)

Earlier in the day, there was a ceremony held in memory of the Lincoln and the late co-owner Dan Talbot attended by, among others, filmmaker Michael Moore (who blamed corporate greed for the closing).

It has been quite encouraging to see the love and support shown for this local, independent movie house, as well as for the Sunshine downtown (being replaced by this monstrosity), not just here in NYC but throughout the film industry in general. Even in this Netflix era, the movie-going experience still counts for something.

That's no small thing, especially when it's built on a foundation of quality films in a pleasant environment run by people with taste. If you have a theater like the Lincoln or the Sunshine where you are, consider yourself fortunate — and support them when you can. They're rare birds these days.

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That's Katha & Don in the front row.

In other news, I attended the kickoff party for the Queens World Film Festival a couple of weeks ago. Good news: it was held in the Astor Room, the chic supper club located at the Astoria Kaufman Studios. Bad news: they had to move us to the basement because of repairs.

That didn't diminish the spirit of the gathering, though with QWFF head honchos Don & Katha Cato in the house, diminished spirit is never a problem. By the time you read this, the updated website, with this year's lineup of films, should be live. If you're in the New York area in mid-March, consider coming out to Astoria for the show.

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I'm grateful for the turnout for the Time Travel Blogathon hosted by myself and Ruth from Silver Screenings. This is shaping up to be a very eclectic lineup, which is always cool to see. Plenty of time to get in on the fun if you want, but if not, you can always hop in your DeLorean or slingshot around the sun and, you know... It all goes down the weekend of March 9-11.

Links after the jump, plus more Lincoln Plaza photos.

Justice links

This is all I will say about Harvey Weinstein, because I know you're sick of reading about him by now: I can't say I'm surprised, for one thing. Given his past inability to keep his hands off films (they called him "Harvey Scissorhands" for a reason), it follows that a man who wields power so cavalierly might also have a problem with keeping his hands off women too.

Harvey will do his time in Hollywood jail (and maybe real jail too) and he'll return; the only question is how long. I mean, if Mel Gibson can come back, and direct a film nominated for Best Picture, anything is possible, no? Bottom line, though: the industry needs to retire the casting couch for good.

Moving on: the novel is close to done, although I've been doing a lot more reading about the book business, and getting a debut novel published is a hell of a lot harder than people think. I was uncertain I wanted to sustain a career as a writer, but the signs point to building up a body of work before your novel can even get considered for publication: short stories, freelance articles - oh, and I should probably write a second manuscript while I'm at it. 

Do I wanna do all this? I can't deny I like writing; this blog is proof of that - and I have no shortage of ideas. I've come this far; I don't feel ready to set fiction writing aside yet. I think next year I may look into doing shorter stories, in addition to revising the novel; I'm told short stories are in now. I guess I'm willing to keep going; I'm just trepidatious as to where this all will lead...

I still haven't decided whether to see Justice League or not. I probably won't, but something could still change my mind.

Your links: 

FlixChatter Ruth's short film played at the Twin Cities Film Festival!

Aurora and pals got to visit Joel McCrea's ranch.

Raquel eulogizes Hugh Hefner as a film fan.

Danny reviews a rare Edward G. Robinson film that sounds really interesting.

Jacqueline writes about the Claude Rains version of Phantom of the Opera and the tragic tale of its leading lady.

Debbie is reminded of her parents' wedding while watching Father of the Bride.

Tippi Hedren on Harvey Weinstein (and Hitchcock).

Marsha Hunt, whom I've talked about here before, hit the century mark last month.

Why didn't anyone ever tell me Tom Petty was in The Postman? Also, there was a movie called I Hate Tom Petty.

What if Lord of the Rings had been made in the late 30s by Warner Bros?

And then there was the time theater owners helped curtail rowdy trick-or-treaters on Halloween.

Five movies to represent me

With thanks to Michelle for the idea, however indirectly.

What five films would you tell a significant other to watch to know what kind of person you are?

Chasing Amy

The reasons why are in the post. Also here. This movie alone would be more than enough.

Love Jones

I wanted to be like the characters in this movie, or at least meet them in reality. Eventually, I did, in more ways than one - only they all live too far away from me.

Frequency

Not just the Mets, not just baseball, but sports in general. And my father. Duh.

Higher Ground

Again, the reasons why are in the post.

Pee-Wee's Big Adventure

I've actually never seen this... but for a movie about the joy of biking, I can't imagine a better choice.

Where art and politics meet

This one's a little complex. Follow closely.

Pam posted a link on her Go Retro Facebook page to an article about late-night television and how politicized it has become lately, especially in favor of the liberal side:

...Regardless of your position on Obamacare or on the 2016 election, the bigger picture here is how ponderous and self-reverential and sanctimonious our late night shows (and their hosts) have become. Can we get back to entertainment please?  If I want political debates on candidates and issues, I’ve got plenty of cable channels to choose from.

Last I checked, the network late night talk shows were supposed to serve a different purpose. I want a humorous and entertaining talk show at the end of my busy and complicated day. and I doubt I’m alone.

However, in the post-Jon Stewart‘s Daily Show era, these hosts (or their producers and networks) have decided that it’s actually more important for a late night comedian to be important and relevant.  In the immortal words of Casey Kasem: Ponderous.

Citizen Jane: Battle for the City

Citizen Jane: Battle for the City
seen @ Lincoln Plaza Cinemas, New York NY

I noticed the change in New York very quickly, days after I returned from living in Columbus. I took the subway to Williamsburg. I had worked in that neighborhood for over two years, and I was aware of its growing status as the new cool place to live. When I stepped outside, I noticed something right away: an increased presence of bicyclists. Not just for sport, either, but regular people too, mostly young, their bikes chained to racks in large clusters.

That wasn't all. I had heard talk about how Times Square had been drastically reconfigured. Suddenly there was all this room for people to walk around. I couldn't believe my ears. Times Square was notorious for its traffic gridlock and the way people were overstuffed onto the sidewalks. I went there, though, and I saw it for myself. Broadway and Seventh Avenues had been streamlined - several blocks of Broadway were closed to traffic - and there was all this space in the streets for people to loiter. There were actually beach chairs scattered about the area! I had to laugh.

Like many New Yorkers, I had always believed traffic - whether it meant bumper-to-bumper cars clogging the roads, making travel difficult at best, or the other extreme, cars going too fast, injuring or even killing pedestrians - was an intractable fact of city life to be struggled against, without any real solution. Living in Columbus, a much smaller town without 24/7 public transit, forced me to get around on a bike. I viewed traffic from a much different perspective, to say the least.

It also made me aware, for the first time, of the value of streets. I associated with other bicyclists. Through them, I understood cars have had a monopoly on streets for decades, here in America and around the world. I learned it doesn't have to stay that way. It wasn't until I returned to New York, though, that I saw that potential for changing the status quo begin to be fulfilled. In many ways, we have Jane Jacobs to thank for that.

Citizen Jane: Battle for the City documents not only the life and work of the journalist, author and activist, it diagrams the history of the changes the automobile wrought upon city streets and neighborhoods everywhere, as well as how and why they need to be opposed.

The film quotes liberally from Jacobs' game-changing 1961 book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities. Through simple observation, Jacobs argued that neighborhoods viewed as "slums" by some have the elements - variety of businesses, day and night; density of housing; people constantly on the street, aware of each other's presence - necessary for growth, an idea that flew in the face of the wave of "urban renewal," i.e., the tearing down of neighborhoods, sweeping the city at the time, led by Jacobs' nemesis, city planner Robert Moses.

Robert Moses

The film goes into the epic battle between Jacobs, favoring people and neighborhoods, and Moses, the champion of autocentrism and wide, long highways - over the future of New York's development. Moses is regarded as a bad guy now, but the truth is, he did a lot for New York: building bridges, beaches, pools and yes, housing. The high-rise I live in was built by Moses.

It was more the way high-rises were made that was the problem: isolated from the surrounding streets, inefficient use of space, discouraging the spontaneity Jacobs saw out her West Village apartment window. The film goes into the popularity of early 20th century architecture that encouraged these kinds of buildings.

Jacobs' ideas are recognized as valid by many city planners today, but putting them into action - doing things like altering street design to slow speeding cars; reconfiguring streets to allow for other means of travel, including bikes; building more pedestrian space - means facing vocal opposition from folks who benefit from and prefer the status quo established by cars. Many of them won't give that up without a fight.

Former NYC transportation commissioner Janette Sadik-Khan, in her recent book Streetfight, advocates wedding Moses' persistence and gumption to Jacobs' ideals in order to build more equitable streets and livable neighborhoods:

...Retrofitting our cities for the new urban age and achieving Jane Jacobs's vision today will require Moses-like vision and action for building the next generation of city roads, ones that will accommodate pedestrians, bikes and buses safely and not just single-occupancy vehicles with their diminishing returns for our streets.... Reversing the atrophy afflicting our city streets requires a change-based urbanism that creates short-term results - results that can create new expectations and demand for more projects.

I saw Citizen Jane with Vija on Sunday and then went to my weekly writing group. On my way home, I passed by a live concert held within a pedestrian plaza in Jackson Heights, built several years ago. At the time, the local businesses were vehemently against it, fearing a loss of revenue from the closing of a single block of a street and the rerouting of a bus to facilitate this new open space. For awhile, it looked like the plaza might not survive.

Sunday night, I saw it packed with people, sitting inside and standing all around the perimeter, with a small group near the stage, children as well as adults, dancing to the music. This is far from the first time I've seen the plaza so busy, but it was the first time I saw such a festive atmosphere so early in the season. Imagine how it'll get come the summer!

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Related:
Streetfilms charts the path towards safer streets
Why does car-free = loser in movies and TV?
Woody v. bike lanes: dawn of ignorance

Character builder

 ...if I am going to identify with anything, it is usually feelings or emotions or ways of thinking rather than actual characters.... I’ve always thought there was a dearth of certain kinds of personalities, though, and my question has been, do I not identify because people tend not to write about characters who I would identify with, or is it simply the way that I approach books that prevents me from more closely seeing myself in other characters?

This struck me as another "what do we want from our fiction" kind of essay, one that made me think about not only how it applies to movies, but to my own novel - still plugging away at it after three years.

The blogger uses Jane Austen's Mansfield Park and the character Fanny Price as a basis. I have read nothing by Austen, so I can't speak to her points regarding that example. Looking through my library, I find a few books with protagonists who might also be considered passive: Francie in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Louis in Interview with the Vampire, Pecola in The Bluest Eye. I may have found it hard to relate to some of them, but not to sympathize.

Now that I think about it, I can't recall many books in which I truly identified with the protagonist - Hesse's Siddhartha, perhaps - but I don't think that's necessarily a problem. One of the best pieces of fiction-writing advice I've gotten to date is this: it's better to write with one person in mind rather than many. In trying to please a wide audience, the logic goes, one ends up pleasing nobody, so as a writer, one is better off keeping a specific individual in mind and composing one's story accordingly. (I know who I'm writing my novel for based on this concept, but I'm not telling.)

As a reader, the odds of that individual being you are too high to ponder. I tend not to think about it when I'm choosing a book. Nick Hornby's protagonists are generally easier for me to empathize with, despite the occasional cultural differences that come with him being a Brit. Jhumpa Lahiri, however, writes characters pretty far removed from my realm of experience and that doesn't stop me from loving her books. Plus, when you throw sci-fi and fantasy into the mix, the differences are even more pronounced. (At the other extreme, I couldn't get more than fifty pages into A Confederacy of Dunces because I found the protagonist completely unlikable. That book wasn't written for me. C'est la vie.)

With movies, less is left to the imagination because you're watching the story unfold in front of you, rather than putting it together in your mind by reading, so identification is perhaps easier. Hollywood bends over backwards trying to make their movies appeal to broad audiences. Maybe that's why many of them tend to not linger long in the memory despite all the hype generated around them. (I touched on this when I discussed the Russell Crowe Robin Hood.)

I've talked before about how deeply I identify with Ben Affleck in Chasing Amy because of where I was in life when I first saw that film. It's one in which I truly feel as if Kevin Smith wrote it for me - but that's a rare feeling. I suspect the blogger may want to feel it more often from the books she reads, but the more I think about it, the more I doubt that's possible. If it does, great, but I don't think it's worth dwelling on much.

New year's links

I don't have too much more to add to the hosannas written for Carrie Fisher. There were other iconic female characters in sci-fi/fantasy film: Maria in Metropolis, the bride of Frankenstein, Fay Wray in King Kong. Princess Leia, though, was an undisputed hero in her own right, one central to the plot, one who made things happen. Remember the moment when, in a fit of frustration, she grabs Luke's blaster and starts shooting the Stormtroopers herself? I have no doubt that scene inspired a generation of girls. Fisher was open about her mental health issues and turned them into comedy, which eventually became a hit movie. That took guts.

As for Debbie Reynolds - and what are the odds of a mother and daughter dying on back-to-back days? - I'm afraid I have even less to say. I don't really know her work other than Singin' in the Rain, which, of course, is an all-timer. She was marvelous in that film.

On to brighter things. I had the best New Year's Eve in years! I went to an orchestral concert held in a Manhattan church to hear my pal Sandi sing with a chorus. She's a classically trained soprano vox. Even though she had been sick as a dog for a couple of weeks, she healed just enough to perform that night. She has a dynamite voice, too. The concert even had a movie connection: among the selections performed were pieces from composers James Newton Howard and Aaron Copland.

Afterwards, I hung out with Sandi and some of her choral friends at a nearby bar and grill, where we awaited 2017. I had met some of her friends before, but I got along pleasantly with everyone despite being the youngest person there.

Sandi actually bought party hats, horns and noisemakers for the occasion, which she cheerily handed out to everyone in our group. The hats didn't fit me, so I had to settle for a "Happy New Year" tiara which kept falling off. I had a horn, though! Considering how last-minute this whole affair was - Sandi didn't decide to attend the concert until the night before, I think, on account of how sick she had been - it turned out great.

No themes for the blog this year. After two in a row, I saw no real need to continue the pattern. Six years of blogging and I still feel like I'm searching for the right direction. All I know for sure is what I don't want: to read like one more blog that critically analyzes movies. If that means going in all different directions, trying different things to see what sticks, well, so be it. I don't know any other way to approach blogging.

More new releases this month, plus some unfinished business from last year, and a blogathon post. A new all-time record for monthly pageviews was set last month, breaking a 4 1/2-year-old record, so thank you big time for that.

Your links:

Raquel loved La La Land.

FlickChick loved La La Land too, though with a small caveat.

Ivan rocks out with Chuck Berry and Alan Freed.

Fritzi can't understand the hate for The Artist.

Pam works out with Debbie Reynolds.

Finally, not movie-related but worth reading: if 2016 got you down, and if 2017 looks hopeless, Le has some advice for you. And speaking of whom, come back tomorrow for a special announcement from the two of us...