Rocketlinks

Normally I don’t talk about blogathons in advance other than my own, but I’ve signed up for one that represents another first for this blog. Silver Screen Suppers pairs movie and TV stars with recipes. You might be aware that I’ve gotten into cooking in recent years, and I’ve found it fulfilling. The blog’s creator, Jenny Hammerton, has self-published Hollywood cookbooks, and she’s currently working on one devoted to the show Murder She Wrote. She has a ton of recipes lined up and she’s giving her readers the opportunity to cook them before the book comes out. Instead of a blogathon, it’s a cookalong!

So yes, I intend to cook a recipe and blog about it here on WSW. The recipes in the cookalong are tied to the MSW cast and its guest stars, many of whom come from Old Hollywood. The one I’ve chosen is for a guest star, Glynis Johns. I’m unfamiliar with her; a basic search reveals she was in Mary Poppins, and was quite the hottie in her youth.

I hope to find the MSW episode she was in and write about that (no guarantees), but even if I don’t, I’ll cook the recipe associated with her, chicken paprika. Apparently it’s her own recipe, or at least it’s attributed to her. The cookalong runs from September 30-October 5. My post will go up in October. (EDIT: Just remembered this won’t be the first time I’ve cooked for the blog, but it will be the first time I’ve documented the process.)

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I’m afraid I don’t have much to say about Doris Day. I was never a huge fan. One of my mother’s favorite songs is “Que Sera Sera.” She used to sing it a lot when I was a kid. I’ve seen Day in Pillow Talk (liked it) and The Man Who Knew Too Much (don’t remember it). Ivan used to do a feature called “Doris Day(s)” that he keeps promising to bring back. Maybe her death will spur him into reviving it, so you should visit him and prod him if you’re interested. I know she wasn’t all sweetness and light, like her public image had been. Maybe if she had more of an edge in her films, I might’ve been more interested in them? Dunno.

As for Tim Conway, here’s an anecdote about him from Carol Burnett’s memoir This Time Together. Burnett was friends with Cary Grant, who was a big fan of her TV show. He particularly enjoyed Conway and Harvey Korman. Burnett introduced them to each other, and one day Conway, Korman, Grant, and their respective wives hung out together. Grant had an awesome time. He thought Conway and Korman were hilarious. The following week, Grant invited Conway and Korman out again, and again Grant was fully entertained by the duo’s antics. The third time, same thing, and the more this kept going, the more Conway and Korman feared they’d run out of material. But this was, after all, Cary Grant, and they didn’t wanna let him down. Finally, Conway got a call at the same time Grant always called him, and he said, “If that’s Cary Grant, I’m not home!”

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Sometime within the next week I expect to finish my experiment in binge-watching television. I chose the first seasons of two streaming programs, Ozark and Longmire. I’m watching the former one episode at a time, and when that’s done, I’ll watch the latter all at once, and then I’ll compare. The more I read about bingeing, the more convinced I am that I should take precautions when I binge — and some people have expressed concern (I ain’t no Morgan Spurlock), so for the record, I intend to alternate between sitting and standing often, snack healthily (fruit, nuts, berries, etc.) with a break for a home-cooked dinner. Given what I’ve read, and the responses to my inquiries about bingeing from my friends, I think I know what my results will be, but I’m gonna see this through anyway.

More after the jump.

Purple links

And just when we had gotten over the death of Bowie, this happens. I remember back in  junior high we'd occasionally debate who was better, Prince or Michael Jackson. It was probably an unfair comparison. As awesome as Michael was, he didn't play an instrument, whereas Prince - well, perhaps it'd be easier to list what he couldn't play.

The film career of the Purple One was perhaps a little less distinguished overall, but hey, criticizing him for not being a great actor is kinda like criticizing Mozart because he never wrote a novel. I think I might have seen Under the Cherry Moon at the old video store, but if I did, I certainly don't remember any of it. Anybody out there seen it and wanna defend it? (Or is that asking too much?)

If Purple Rain were the only movie Prince had made, it would've been more than enough. No, it's not perfect by any means, but the music makes it so watchable, and because there's so much of it, and because it's so good, the movie is never dull for long. I'm not sure what you could compare it to: maybe Jailhouse Rock in the sense that it's an acting/singing vehicle for its musician superstar at the peak of his popularity, only Rain is perhaps a bit more personal. I would not be surprised to discover it was an influence on subsequent movies like 8 Mile and maybe even Once.

Prince was an American original, a truly gifted musician who carved his niche upon the pop music landscape and carved it deep.

In happier news, the Alamo Drafthouse is coming to Brooklyn this summer! You have no idea how excited I am at this news. You've already heard me complain about the area surrounding the Yonkers location and the long commute. This will be much closer, and of course, because it's the Alamo, it'll have the same awesome features as the rest of the theaters. This is gonna be epic.

This might not be news to some of you, but I saw it and I thought it odd enough to mention it on Twitter and I thought I'd throw it out here as well. I was in a cafe in Astoria last month that had E.T. playing on a flat screen HD television. This is, as you know, a movie from 1982, and it was shot on 35mm film, long before the digital revolution. Yet, looking at it on this 21st-century ultra-modern television, I could not believe how clear and crisp looking the image was. It was so clear, in fact, that it didn't even look like celluloid. It looked a lot like it was shot on video.

Now the first time I noticed this, I was watching the first Hobbit movie, and at the time I thought, oh, this must be what Peter Jackson's 48-frames-per-second technology must be like. But then I saw that look on TV shows and other movies watched on HD screens as well, and I couldn't get over how odd it made older movies - say, from the early 90s and earlier - look. It makes them not look like film. Camera movements are noticeable that shouldn't be; the grainy texture of celluloid is almost completely lost - I actually thought at first I was watching a TV show parodying E.T. instead of the actual movie.

You'll recall when I wrote about Interstellar, I said I didn't recognize the look of 35mm film at first because I had become so used to seeing imagery from digital technology. This is almost the reverse - and I'm wondering whether or not this is a good thing. So much effort has been expended to save celluloid, to keep it around for the filmmakers who still want to use it, but what use is all that effort if these movies are seen on television screens that blunt the look of film? I dunno; it's just a thought that came to mind recently.

Remember the Cinemart, the local theater I told you about that went back to showing first-run movies after years of being a second-run place? I passed by there recently, and they were closed - but for renovations. Apparently they're doing well enough to install luxury recliner seats. The marquee says the new seats will be ready by the time X-Men: Apocalypse opens there, first-run, later this month. I'm really glad they're progressing. Ever since the Jackson Heights and Sunnyside theaters closed, neighborhood theaters have felt more and more like an endangered species, so it's nice to see this one not only continue to survive, but grow.

Still plenty of time to get in on the Athletes in Film Blogathon with me and Aurora coming up in June. The lineup is looking pretty good.

Your links for this month:

Once again, Ryan has just the right words to eulogize a dead rock star.

Sometimes, as Raquel recently discovered, the right movie comes along at just the right time.

Jacqueline examines classic film fandom in the television age.

Ivan takes a look at the Thin Man TV series.

Ruth sees A Streetcar Named Desire for the first time.

Pam has a story about a German actor raised as a Nazi, but resisted that life.

Here's a highlight from the Beyond the Cover Blogathon: a video review of the movie and book of The Color Purple.

The TCM Film Fest attracts plenty of young people (some of whom I know by reputation).

Prisoners

Prisoners
seen @ AMC Loews Fresh Meadows 7, Fresh Meadows, Queens, NY
9.24.13

In my post on Zero Dark Thirty, I went into some length about violence in general and torture in specific, and why it's so appealing as a storytelling trope. I stated that I'm no different from most people in that I can deal with watching torture in a movie if it's in service to a strong story (though Twelve Years a Slave will test the limits of my tolerance, I'm sure), and that if indeed, torture was used in the search for Osama Bin Laden, I could live with that.

I still feel the same after watching Prisoners. The story is far from new - kidnapped children, angry and stressed-out parents, determined cop on the trail. Like Mystic River, a similar movie, the father suspects a dude who is a little mentally unbalanced and is convinced he knows more than he is able, or willing, to say. The difference is in the lengths the father in Prisoners is willing to go towards finding out the truth - and he goes really far.

It's almost impossible to look at a movie like this and not think of Iraq and the so-called "war on terror" that defined the previous decade. Hugh Jackman's character has a certainty, like Meryl Streep in Doubt, another Iraq War metaphor movie, that he cannot waver from because the stakes are so high. He sees connections where others might see coincidences and needs to believe so much that he's right because to be wrong would be unthinkable. He's also a religious man, but unlike Streep in Doubt, his faith doesn't figure that much into the story.

Maybe this is what makes some people in real life, whether politicians or religious leaders or what have you, able to live their lives with a certainty - not so much because they believe in a thing, but because they're afraid to not believe in it. The more I think about it, the more probable that seems to me. We needed to believe that Sadaam Hussein was hiding weapons of mass destruction because we needed a quick and easy solution to the problems that grew out of the nightmare that was September 11. The alternative was to go on and on without finding an answer to the question every American wanted answered, the question Jackman keeps asking in Prisoners: who's to blame and where is he?

Fear, of course, is easily exploitable, in the spheres of both religion and politics. Those who have that certainty often bully those without it into coming around to their way of thinking, one way or another. In Prisoners, Terence Howard's child is also missing, and Jackman guilts Howard into helping him torture a suspect for information, playing on Howard's fears in the process - and isn't that how it works in real life as well? Vote for me or you'll have to pay higher taxes. Worship the same god as me or you'll miss out on eternal salvation.

Again, none of this is new; it's more the intensity of the situation as it's presented and the performances by Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal as the cop searching for the missing children, that's different, and it gripped me completely, I must admit. The kidnapper's true identity requires connecting a few dots on the viewer's part, and a second viewing may clarify things more - I think I understood the motive, but I'm not positive about that. And then there's that final scene. A film noir-like ending if ever I saw one.

Unlike my last movie at the Fresh Meadows, I had no big problems with the audience this time. There was a chatty couple next to me, but I only had to shush them once, and quietly at that, and that was enough. Still, there was one scene late in the movie where the chick criticized the way Gyllenhaal handles a violent suspect and I had to laugh, even though the scene itself was not funny at all, because she kinda had a point! (Can't say more without giving away spoilers.) 

Also, I figured out how to adjust the reclining seats. I had a bit of a problem with them last time, and eventually, everyone in my row had their legs propped up, which I thought was funny to see.

To save the drive-in, you must destroy it

...As a baby boomer, I grew up in the heyday of drive-ins. I remember my parents putting my brother and me in our pajamas and toting us off to the outdoor screen in Paramus, New Jersey (now long gone), where we would usually fall asleep at some point during the program. I can’t forget the garish ads for even more garish-looking refreshments, and the fact that when you looked up a movie’s showtime in the local newspaper, chances are it would say “dusk.” I vividly recall the crackling of the always-inferior portable speakers that hung in our car window, but my strongest association with drive-in movies is the constant presence of mosquitoes. So why should I have any fondness for this once-forward-thinking, now quaint presentation of movies? Call it rose-colored nostalgia, if you like, but it was an experience like no other, a genuine slice of Americana.

Let it be known: if the drive-in were to die tomorrow, I would not shed a tear. I am not a baby boomer, and I do not feel warm and fuzzy and nostalgic about what was a beneficiary of the urban sprawl period of the 50s, where cities became decentralized and America created more and more highways and thoroughfares, cutting through our neighborhoods, spreading us further and further apart, and most of all, making us more and more reliant on cars, which led to greater air pollution, the decaying of our downtowns, increased reliance on foreign oil, et cetera. 

The drive-in is certainly not to blame for all of that, but it did contribute to the mythology, and dare I say, fetishization, of car culture, that "genuine slice of Americana" that Leonard Maltin talks about in the preceding quote. That said, however, I have no desire to see a legitimate movie venue die off, and so I've given the matter of how to keep drive-ins alive some thought. My conclusion: it must die...

... and be reborn. The problem with drive-ins is that they're generally located outside the cities, which means depending on the car to get there. That may not have been a big deal back in the 50s, but in recent years, the effects of urban sprawl are being deeply felt. (Also, studies have shown that there's an increasing demand for transit support on the federal level.) This is obviously a problem that goes far beyond the scope of this post, but to bring it back to drive-ins, if they are to survive, and perhaps, even thrive, there needs to be less of an emphasis on cars as a means to get there. 

The drive-in must be reinvented as an outdoor movie theater, accessible via a variety of methods. It needs to be able to compensate for bad weather. It needs more to offer than a nightly picture show or two. Above all, it needs to foster the kind of community that picture shows specialize in.

- Multimodal transportation options. This is the single most important change drive-ins must make, but implementing it doesn't have to cost a fortune. How about investing in something as simple as a school bus or a van? It could make round trips from the downtown to the drive-in, perhaps stopping at the mall or other, similar locations to and from the drive-in. Charge a small fee to help pay for gas and maintenance and you're good to go. (Half price for seniors, kids 12 and under free?) 

Patrons can still drive to the drive-in, of course, but there needs to be a limited amount of parking space set aside for their cars, and a fee should be charged for the privilege, one slightly higher than the bus fare. I would also encourage carpooling.

Plus, the new drive-in must do everything in their power to encourage bicycling. Provide bike racks, maybe even valet parking. Advertise in bike shops. Offer weekend discounts on admission for bikers. Encourage "bike trains" to the drive-in - basically large groups of bikers traveling together, because biking is safer when one travels in groups. The drive-in could even sell a limited amount of bike helmets, locks and chains, and night lights depending on the demand.

People in the cities need to feel that the drive-in is not so far away and can be easily reached even if one doesn't own a car.

- Pre-show entertainment. If the new drive-in will be asking people to travel out of their way for a movie, it needs to offer a little more than two shows a night. There are lots of "warm-up acts" one can put together, at relatively low cost. It can be as simple as a dance party, maybe with music to match the theme of the evening's movie; or perhaps live music on the weekends (with an extra fee to help pay for the band). It could be games and contests for the kids. Some drive-ins used to have playgrounds; that's an excellent thing to have. It could be a celebrity appearance. It could be practically anything, and it wouldn't have to cost that much (and if it does, you can always charge an extra fee). The point is to provide the patrons with an experience that would justify making the trip out beyond the downtown.

- Outdoor seating and rain protection. Aluminum or wooden bleachers could easily accommodate large crowds, and some manner of tarp can be pitched above them when rain threatens. This will cost a little more, but with the patrons out of their cars, it'll be a necessity one can't do without.

- Cultivating a unique group experience. By watching a movie in your car, surrounded by others doing the same thing, you're isolating yourself from the rest of the audience, and the net result is that you might as well be watching the movie on TV at home - and if that's the case, why bother going out at all?

By getting patrons out of those cars, not only can they re-engage in the natural audience behavior associated with movies (laughter, tears, cheers, etc.), but they can also enjoy the warmth of a summer night. Yes, audience behavior has deteriorated in recent years (texting, cell phone conversations, crying babies, etc.), but as with any indoor venue, proper monitoring by theater staff can make all the difference.

There are other suggestions I could offer, but these specifically address the drive-in experience. Upgrading to a digital projector has, regrettably, become a necessity for showing today's movies, and the fundraising drive mentioned in Maltin's original article is certainly an important part of the effort to keep drive-ins going. Still, I believe this alone is not enough. A modern drive-in must reflect the changes inherent in modern America, and the 1950s model won't do anymore.

Thoughts?

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Related:
My dream movie theater
Could variable ticket-pricing work?

The Tingler

The Tingler
seen @ Film Forum, New York, NY
8.18.13

So... who has two thumbs and recently said something along the lines of how William Castle movies don't get played often anymore?

[this guy]

For a brief time during last month's Castle-thon, it seemed like there was a bit of a resurgence in the horror director's popularity, at least on Twitter - though both Monstergirl and Goregirl had something to do with that, I'm sure. Castle may never attract more than a niche crowd of cinephiles, but if nothing else, they're devoted cinephiles.

I was reminded of this again when I (finally!) saw The Tingler on Sunday at Film Forum. It was part of an end-of-summer classic sci-fi series, with lots of great old genre movies that, if I had the time and money, I'd probably spend on the whole thing. The line for admission, as you might imagine, was out the door and far down the street. Good thing my pals John & Sue got there before me so I wouldn't be too far back. I invited the two of them along; I hadn't seen them in awhile and I knew they'd go for this.

Now, the Forum advertised this showing as being in "Percepto," which, as we learned from my Castle post, requires sticking vibrating motors underneath random audience seats and activating them during the movie. I had speculated that if this sort of thing were done today, there'd be fighting over seats and people would leak the locations of those seats online. 

There was no fighting that I saw on Sunday, and as for advance knowledge, well, I admit, I asked Will, who had already seen Tingler at the Forum, if he remembered where the rigged seats were. He was convinced there were very few of them, if any, and as it turned out, he was right. I didn't see any rigged seats to the left and the right of me, nor did I see any in the row in front of me. Needless to say, I was bummed... but what the Forum offered turned out to be not so bad. 

In Tingler, Vincent Price plays a scientist who discovers a parasitic life-form that resides at the base of the human spinal column and grows whenever somebody gets scared, and only screaming can control it (just go with it). To test his theory, he shoots himself up with LSD - which may make this 1959 film one of, if not the very first, films to depict LSD use. I remember thinking at that moment that gee, it would be cool if we could see him tripping in color. Sure enough, the print was overlaid with a color filter which looked like tie-died liquid squishing around. It was a nice touch - and it was just what I wished for!

There's a skeleton in Price's lab, and naturally, that made me think of "Emergo" from House on Haunted Hill - the skeleton that pops out from behind the screen and hovers over the crowd during a key moment. Well, wouldn't you know it, during a big "scary" moment in Tingler, what should come out of nowhere but the Emergo skeleton, to the cheers of the near-sellout crowd? It hung from a wire running at a diagonal above the auditorium. It dangled around back and forth for a few moments, and at one point an entire arm fell off the skeleton and into the crowd! That got a huge roar of approval! 

This scene is supposed to be colored this way.

Eventually it stayed in place, hanging in front of the screen as the movie continued. It stayed that way for several minutes, as whoever was in charge of it twitched it first one way, then another, as if unsure which way to pull it. One guy in front shouted "Wrong way!" when it moved away from its hiding place. Personally, though, I suspect that it was deliberately kept out a few minutes longer than necessary, just for the hell of it.

The best was yet to come, though. In the film, the Tingler parasite is extracted from a human corpse, and in a bit of meta-narrative, it eventually escapes into, of all places, a movie theater, and since screaming is supposed to neutralize it, Price implores the theater audience - and by extension, us - to scream like crazy. This is when the buzzers are supposed to go off, but what happened on Sunday was the ushers stormed into the auditorium with flashlights, frantically running around looking for the "Tingler" as everybody screamed like madmen. Somebody - a plant, no doubt - pretended to grapple with something that looked like the Tingler and wrestled it out of his seat and down the aisle and out the emergency exit and everybody went bananas over the whole thing, myself included.

The movie itself is not that great. Besides the questionable (at best) premise, one can clearly see the wire used to make the Tingler move, and Price on an LSD trip can never be taken seriously. As I've said before, though, Castle's films are less about quality than they are about entertainment, and even if this wasn't really presented in "Percepto" as I understood it, I was entertained.

Tingler played as part of a twin bill with Homicidal, complete with a Coward's Corner which two more plants escaped towards at the appointed moment in the film. I was glad to see it again because now that I knew the secret of that film, I could look at it again and see how the pieces of the puzzle fit, which I totally missed the first time. John had seen it before, but Sue hadn't, so she was surprised by the big twist towards the end. 

Castle himself, from his introduction to Tingler

Plus, this screening had people I knew in attendance; I saw an old comics acquaintance, Abby, who was there with a friend, and Will was there too, which I didn't expect, since he had seen it already. When it comes to movies, though, he really gets around; after this twin bill, he went into Brooklyn to see another movie! He told me later on Twitter that he has memberships at many New York film theaters, so he gets in cheap. That would explain it.

Dracula (1931)

Dracula (1931)
seen @ Celebrate Brooklyn, Prospect Park, Brooklyn, NY
7.13.13

I imagine the first time I heard the music of Philip Glass was probably in a movie, definitely during my video store years. It may have been Candyman; it may have even been The Truman Show, but I'll bet it was probably Koyaanisqatsi. If you've never seen it, I recommend it; it's an experimental art film featuring images of the natural and the man-made world, set to Glass' music. I would say that there's nothing quite like it, except it was so popular they made a sequel.

When Ruth recently did a post about Glass, I had commented that Glass' music is the kind that's so mesmerizing that it'll make you forget where you are. (I had recently heard his music in a bookstore and it took me awhile to reconnect to the world after I left.) I wouldn't call myself a fan of Glass' work, but I certainly appreciate it. It's atmospheric, ethereal; not the kind of music that grabs you by the collar but entices you to come to it instead.

In 1999, Glass composed a score to accompany the classic horror film Dracula that was part of a remastered edition of the film. The score was performed by the Kronos Quartet. The original film has next to nothing in the way of a score, so adding music to it is a welcome addition. Last Saturday, as part of Brooklyn's annual summer performing arts festival Celebrate Brooklyn, Glass, along with his Philip Glass Ensemble, performed their score live in accompaniment to the film itself. 

It was the first time I had seen a "talkie" with a live score. On occasions where I'd seen silent films with live scores, the music was a very powerful, very dominant presence. In these cases, the music informed the visuals and provided a context for what was going on, whether it was a single organ or a small orchestra. Here, the music didn't have to do as much of the heavy lifting, so to speak, because there was dialogue, but because the music was live, it had more substance, more immediacy, than if it were part of the film's audio track.

The Ensemble consisted of Glass on piano, plus horns, woodwinds and what must have been a keyboard (he was on the far end of the stage so I didn't see it), plus a conductor. I was sitting in the front and to the right, about eight or nine rows back, so I had a great view of Glass himself. I liked the fact that the score allowed for pauses. There were brief moments where a certain musical passage would end and you'd hear the dialogue for a little bit, and then a new passage would begin. Plus they allowed for music within the film itself, as well as important sound effects.

That said, while the music was beautiful, it didn't make the movie any scarier. That may simply be an inherent element of the film itself, made in 1931 and viewed by a 2013 audience - you'd be hard-pressed to find anyone truly scared by Dracula today - but it did make me aware of something else about Glass' music: it rarely makes you feel any deep emotion. Its beauty is a rather chilly one, an austere one, and while it's possible for one to be moved by a certain passage, its inherently repetitive nature doesn't really reach your soul the way composers like Beethoven or Mozart do. 

Glass' score didn't bore me; on the contrary, it made me appreciate Dracula more - but it didn't thrill me either. Part of me thinks it may be because he was working with a "talkie" film and his music couldn't overpower the dialogue, but even if it were a silent film, I doubt it'd be much different. I mentioned Koyaanisqatsi earlier; that's a film without a narrative or dialogue, so it's easier to project whatever emotions or thoughts one wants onto the combination of images and music. Still, like I said, I did enjoy seeing Glass perform live, in a venue like this.

As for the film itself, once again I was amazed at the difference seeing it on a big screen makes. Drac's castle loomed much bigger than in my memory of seeing it on TV, Renfield was creepier, Mina more beautiful and good ol' Bela Lugosi was a much more commanding presence. It's easy to forget sometimes how influential this film has become, how iconic the image of Lugosi as Dracula is and how every vampire movie that followed owes a debt to it. Seeing it on a big screen is a reminder of what this movie has meant to cinema history.

It had rained on and off all afternoon. I remember standing in line outside the Celebrate Brooklyn front gate in Prospect Park holding my umbrella as it drizzled for awhile, but it stopped well before the gates opened. I had gotten there fairly early, so I got a great seat, though as I entered I noticed that there were people who chose to camp out on the grassy area behind the seats. This kinda surprised me. I remember sitting in that area when I saw The Swell Season perform here a couple of years ago and I hated sitting there - and that area fills up pretty quickly once the regular seats are taken.

There was an opening musical act - that's one of the many great things about CB; you get more than your money's worth every time - a violinist named Kishi Bashi. I'm still not sure how to describe his music. He and his band would play a riff and it would go on a repeating loop and then he'd layer it with other riffs and adjust them as the songs went on. His vocals were high and wailing. He had one guy who played what looked like an electric banjo, but sometimes he'd bang on it like a drum. My description can't do it justice, but it wasn't bad. Way different from anything you'd hear anyplace else.

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Related:
Nosferatu
Horror of Dracula

Star Trek Into Darkness (advance screening)

SPOILERS

I'm afraid the only way I can talk about Star Trek Into Darkness properly is if I go into full detail about the movie. Sorry about that. If you don't wanna be spoiled, turn back now.

Django Unchained

Django Unchained
seen @ AMC Loews Fresh Meadows 7, Fresh Meadows, Queens, NY
1.24.13

Had a big problem with a cell phone user at my Django Unchained screening. Big as in had-to-get-a-manager big. Here's the deal: I think the Fresh Meadows must have done some kind of remodeling or something from the last time I was there, because this was the first theater I've been to (that I recall) where I could pick which seat I could buy. 

I was stunned; the clerk at the box office showed me a layout of the room and each seat had assigned alphanumeric designations. I suspect this probably matters more at night and weekend showings, where there are bigger crowds, because the room was only half full and it didn't seem like anyone was enforcing the assigned seats thing. 

Plus, the seats themselves were really cushy. When I first sat down in mine, it automatically reclined back and my feet were propped up! Unfortunately, I must have done something wrong, because it went back into its standard position and I didn't know how to get it to recline again. Still, it felt great, however briefly.

Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same

Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same
seen @ reRun Gastropub Theater @ reBar, DUMBO, Brooklyn NY
1.12.12

There's a great old Star Trek episode where Mr. Spock, under the influence of alien plant life, loses his emotional control and is able to express his love for this human woman who has a crush on him. For an alien who practices stoicism as a survival method, Spock always managed to be attractive to the ladies - and that was as much true in real life as on the show. Of course, this can't last, and when Spock becomes himself again, the chick's all broken up, but he tells her he can't willingly change, even if he wanted to: "If there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them. Mine can be no worse than someone else's."

Now, in Spock's case, he has to maintain emotional control because Vulcan emotions are so passionate and dangerous they can do serious harm, to himself and to others. The aliens of the indie flick Codependent Lesbian Space Alien Seeks Same are similar, only their lack of emotional control is believed to have led to an environmental crisis on their planet. Three of their worst offenders have been exiled to Earth, never to return unless they can purge their emotionalism by having their hearts broken.

I was expecting this to be a parody of 50's sci-fi alien invasion movies with a post-modern sensibility, and while it kinda is in a superficial sense (the makeup, the costumes, the spaceship), it doesn't go far in that direction, though I suspect that wasn't really the intent anyway. As the title makes clear, the emphasis is on exploring romantic relationships, and of course there's a human woman who falls for one of these lesbian space aliens. There are also a pair of government agents on the hunt for the aliens.

While there are some mildly amusing scenes (the one where they're dancing in the bar is perhaps the funniest), I didn't feel like Space Alien explored its premise deeply enough. We're told stuff more than we're shown stuff. For instance, we don't get to see a lot of the past of Jane, the human protagonist (who rides a bike!), and why she would be more susceptible to falling in love with a female alien than with another human woman. We are, however, told quite a bit in her therapy sessions. The subplot with the two aliens who try to start a relationship with each other goes somewhere for a while, but then it fizzles for no good reason. And every time we see the G-men, they're yammering, Pulp Fiction-style, about minutiae not directly related to their mission. They're no Mulder and Scully.


I never felt like there was a great sense of risk. Tying the aliens' emotions to an impending planetary disaster that we don't even see the consequences of was a mistake. This is sci-fi! Instead of a hole in the ozone layer (Really? That's the best you can come up with?) how about having their world blow up unless they kick these overly-emotional aliens the hell out of there quick? How about dealing with the fact that by being true to their natures, these exiles can never go back home? And how about giving Jane a wider arc than "she meets an alien - she falls in love with her"? One with more at stake for her personally? And either get rid of the G-men or make them more a part of the story. They were dead weight.

Space Alien played at a new venue for movies in New York: reRun, a screening room that's part of the DUMBO restaurant reBar. It's particularly unique in that the cooking staff of the restaurant also provides eats and drinks for reRun, and it's a cut above standard movie theater fare: gourmet hot dogs and pretzels (!), stuffed baked focaccia, popcorn with flavored powder coatings, and more! And of course there's also a bar.

All this week at the Space Alien screenings (last night was the last night), reRun offered a deal where if you arrived a half-hour earlier or more and spent at least $7 on food (the same price as admission), the admission was free. I, naturally, chose to take advantage of this, but I didn't expect so large a crowd a half-hour before showtime. All told, there must have been 100-125 people in this small screening room and half of them were bellying up to the lone person behind the bar taking all their orders. A second bartender arrived later, and by then I was able to order my $7 popcorn.

reRun actually has stadium seating, if you can believe it, though last night they actually had to add folding chairs in the front to accommodate the large crowd. The seats were comfy - high-backed, just the way I like them - but the floor came up higher than usual, so my knees were almost up to my chest. Plus, my seat kept leaning back when I first tried to sit back in it, which made getting comfortable a bit tricky at first. 

I sat next to an old dude who had a copy of the 2012 Leonard Maltin guide with him. He said he writes about movies too, but he just makes lists of his favorite movies for his friends. Going in alphabetical order, he's only on the B's so far, so we ended up talking about movies beginning with B, like Bringing Up Baby and Bridge on the River Kwai. He said he likes supporting indy films, but he wasn't too impressed with Space Alien either.

Space Alien writer-director Madeleine Olnek was on hand, along with several cast members and the makeup artist. Afterwards she talked about the movie, saying it was shot guerrilla style, without permits, all through Greenwich Village, which she said she wanted to make as much a part of the movie as anything else. She also talked about the venues she had to film in - bars, restaurants, etc. - and working with the owners to get their permission. She wouldn't discuss budget. Her elderly dad had a couple of scenes in the movie, and he was in the audience as well, though he left before the Q-and-A afterwards. The makeup artist said it took about two hours to get those bald-caps on the actresses playing the aliens, and she did a good job from what I could tell.

The Ghost of Yotsuya

 

The Ghost of Yotsuya AKA Ghost Story of Yotsuya
seen @ Spectacle Theater, Brooklyn NY
10.23.11

I think my first interest in the paranormal began when I was maybe around nine or ten perhaps. I don't remember what it was that sparked it, but I do remember being fascinated with the idea of ghosts and telekinesis and stuff like that, and in particular I remember wishing that I could see a ghost one day. Of course, being a kid, I had no idea what I would do if I were to see a ghost, besides wet my pants, which may be why my initial interest in it didn't last.

My friend Sam actually takes part in expeditions to "haunted houses." I forget how often she and her friends do it, but they go around Central Ohio looking for houses and buildings that supposedly have some kind of supernatural jazz going on. She's posted images on her Facebook page of things that kinda sorta look like a ghost if you look at them long enough and squint your eyes, but they could just as easily be... I dunno, anything else. I think she does it more for fun than for any Agent Mulder-like hardcore belief in the supernatural.

I do believe there are certain things in this world that can't be explained by science - yet. One should remember that we know way more about our world now than we did even a generation ago, and while the gap likely won't be closed within even our grandchildren's lifetimes, it'll be a hell of a lot smaller by then. And the natural world has plenty of bizarre things in it as it is.


I'm told that The Ghost of Yotsuya is a story that dates back to a 19th-century Japanese play and has been filmed over thirty times. It's basically The Crow with swordplay: abused wife of a samurai dies at her husband's hands, comes back as a ghost for revenge. Don't expect any Kurosawa-type sword fights in this one; the few such scenes are lackluster and strangely choreographed. As for gore, there's a little, but by contemporary standards, it's not peek-between-your-fingers bad. What impressed me most about this one was its cinematography and use of color. It reminded me of Powell and Pressburger, the British duo responsible for classics like Black Narcissus and A Matter of Life and Death. I'd recommend this movie for its looks alone.

I saw Yotsuya in a new venue, the Spectacle Theater in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. To call it a theater is perhaps an overstatement; it's basically a tiny screening room - about 25-30 seats. It hasn't been fully renovated and it's very bare bones, but the sound and picture quality was good, and the proprietors clearly have a deep passion and knowledge of movies, if they're showing movies like this (for only five bucks!). I happened to be one of the first to arrive, and I thought perhaps their total audience would be me and the kid across the room from me reading a book, but then more and more people arrived, until the place was almost completely full! Should've known that even a joint as tiny as this would attract an audience in Hipster Ground Zero in New York City.


The seats just barely fit me, and of course, there was no legroom for me at all. I had to twist my legs out into the aisle, which was not all that roomy either. The back was low; another minus. The emcee said that among their upcoming events was a twelve-hour horror marathon, and I couldn't help but shudder at the thought of spending twelve hours in here. Don't get me wrong, though; the Spectacle plays a very eclectic and challenging lineup of films, from what I saw of the trailers they played before the film and the schedule on their website, and anyplace that does that gets a pass from me.

The Ides of March

The Ides of March
seen @ Cobble Hill Cinemas, Brooklyn NY
10.11.11

I'll never forget the time I saw Barack Obama give a speech. This was when I lived in Columbus, which was during the height of his presidential campaign. This was one of several visits he made to Ohio during my time there. In addition to the state being a pivotal election battleground, it had a Democrat governor, and Columbus had a black Democrat mayor (he's still there; the governor isn't). The speech was held in a plaza on the western side of a bridge leading to the downtown area. The city skyline framed Obama as he spoke to a huge crowd in mid-October. By this point I had already cast my vote for him; I had never voted early in a presidential election before, but when I discovered I could do so, I figured why not.

I remember thinking how important it was to stay focused on the content of his message and to not get swept up in the fervor of the enthusiastic crowd. I've been to political rallies before, but this was different. There was a palpable sense that the audience not just wanted, but needed this man to be the one to fix the many problems created by George W. Bush. It was not unlike being at a sporting event or a concert, but it also felt more urgent.

On the night of the election, Ohio was declared to be for Obama relatively early in the race. Obama had already built an early lead, but if I recall correctly, the belief still existed that John McCain could come back. I remember thinking that he may have clinched the victory by taking the "swing state," a state that could've easily gone either way, and as it turned out, he did. And we all remember the overwhelming sense of joy and euphoria from most of the nation that accompanied Obama's victory for weeks afterward. Seems so far away now, doesn't it?

There are a whole lot of betrayals, compromises, lies and secrets over the course of the movie The Ides of March, which follows the campaign of an Obama-like Democratic presidential candidate through the primaries stage in Ohio. I was a bit disappointed that it's mostly set in Cincinnati. The only mention of Columbus is by a minor character late in the film, who proclaims that that's where she's from. (Still, between this, Take Shelter and Super 8, it's been a pretty good year for Ohio-based films!) It's gotten some criticism over the belief that it doesn't say anything new, and maybe it doesn't, but I still found it engrossing, and obviously it made me think of my first-hand experience with following a presidential race from the Buckeye State. 

Someone says in the film that Democrats aren't willing to do the things Republicans do in order to get ahead, a notion that has been expressed elsewhere. Without getting into a big laundry list of the faults of both parties, let me just say that maybe if there was less bitterness and vitriol on both sides and more reasoned, rational and level-headed discussion, there might be less need for dirty tricks and sabotage and betrayal in politics. Crazy thought, I know.

The Cobble Hill is a small neighborhood theater near downtown Brooklyn, the sister theater of the Kew Gardens, which I've talked about plenty of times. Ides is actually the second George Clooney film I've seen there; the first being Up in the Air. I also saw Avatar there. I went there to take advantage of the Tuesday discount, but for some reason, it wasn't in effect for Ides. I rushed to the box office just as the film was starting and handed the box office clerk my money, only to see a sign at the window specifically saying that the usual Tuesday and Thursday discount would not apply for the first two weeks of Ides' screening. I've encountered similar restrictions for SONY/Columbia films before, at the Sunnyside theater, and I'm wondering how rampant this practice is? Anybody else ever encounter this? I'd really like to know.


I like the Cobble Hill fine, but the seats are a little too small for me. No stadium seating here, but the seats feel a bit tight and there's not enough legroom (keep in mind that I'm a bit larger than the average moviegoer). Fortunately, the seats have high backs, unlike the Sunnyside, so I still had a modicum of comfort.

Drive

Drive
seen @ Center Cinema 5, Sunnyside, Queens, NY
9.20.11


I hadn't realized how accustomed I had gotten to having high-backed seats arranged stadium-style in movie theaters until yesterday, when I went to see Drive. I'd been to the Sunnyside before (that's not the theater's name, but that's how I refer to it), and while it's not the greatest theater in town, it's not the worst, either. I copped an aisle seat like I always do, this one maybe two-thirds of the way back from the screen. The seat felt a little wobbly, so I moved back an aisle to another one. No stadium-style seating here; all the rows are on the same plane. The armrests - the kind with cup holders - were immovable, which left me with just enough wiggle room, but it was okay since I could stretch my legs out in the aisle (though not far enough to trip people, of course). The auditorium had perhaps a dozen people or so.


The film starts and wouldn't you know it, an old couple across the aisle and behind me begins an on-again, off-again pattern of mumbling to themselves about the action on screen. It doesn't take me long to decide that this is gonna be a problem, so I grab my stuff and move forward about eight or nine aisles and in towards the wall, the point being to get as far away from the couple as possible.

And this is where I start to become more conscious of the seats. I can't stretch my legs out comfortably, me being somewhat tall, so I have to swing them sideways. Because I can't stretch out my legs, I try to compensate by leaning down, but I can't do that very comfortably either because the seats only come up to just below my shoulder blades, so I have to kind of contort my body sideways to adjust to not only the lack of legroom but to see the screen better, since I'm now on the side instead of in the middle. The Angelika is arranged this way too, but there's much more legroom there; I can slump down in my seat comfortably without it being a big deal.


As for the movie, well, I liked it, though it didn't blow me away like with most critics. Much more violent than I expected, but the violence comes in mostly quick bursts, kinda like Ryan Gosling's character - generally placid on the surface, but ready to kick your ass if the need arises. The whole film simmers like that - the use of dissolves, long takes, and pregnant pauses makes the action, when it comes, feel more abrupt. It also has a bit of an 80s vibe going on, what with the hot pink of the credits, the Miami Vice-like cinematography of LA, and especially the synth-heavy soundtrack.

Another Year

Another Year
seen @ Angelika Film Center, New York NY
1.2.11

The Angelika Film Center can be an exciting place to see a movie, but the thing is, you gotta plan in advance when you go there - especially if it's on a weekend, and especially especially if a hot movie or two is playing. I bought my ticket for Another Year an hour and a half ahead of time and then I wandered around the East Village for a bit. I bought some pizza, because I knew I wasn't gonna buy food there (and not just because it's expensive, as you'll see). The lobby, which includes the cafe, was sparsely populated when I left. It was well into the afternoon, though not late in the day.

When I came back, it was about twenty minutes before my showtime, and the lobby was PACKED. The Angelika's not very big, as movie theaters go. With the cafe to the side as you enter, it's about the size of your average Starbucks. Now imagine that same space with all the tables full, and a huge line snaking around the perimeter, from the rear entrance leading to the lower level, where the ticket takers stand, to the front entrance and around the side to the cafe counter and back towards the bathrooms - a mass of people standing around, waiting to go downstairs to the auditoriums. Granted, you see long lines on opening weekends at multiplexes all the time, but your local multiplex usually has a lot more room to accommodate so many people. When they're in a smaller space, like the Angelika, the feeling is a bit more tense and... chaotic.

I had no idea where the line ended, nor did I know which movie the line was for. Eventually the usher announced over the PA system that the line was for Blue Valentine, which was screening at the same time as Another Year, and that the line for the latter was forming to the side. I found that line and followed it... out the front door and down the front steps into the street. Well, it wasn't snowing, nor was it raining beyond an occasional drop or two, and it was relatively warmer than it had been recently, so waiting outside wasn't so bad. Now you see why getting food at the theater would've been a bad idea - if I had been with someone, I could've sent them inside to get something for both of us while I held our spot in line, but I wasn't, so I couldn't.

I've written before about how I've seen the occasional celebrity at the Angelika, attending as just another filmgoer. I had no such luck yesterday, though it wouldn't have been too surprising if I had. Blue Valentine was clearly the movie most people were talking about, including the couple in front of me. They had already seen it and were describing it to this elderly lady whom they must have met in line.

I'm normally not the type who gets off on being in a crowd, but when it comes to movies, there is a kind of thrill to the aspect of waiting on line for an eagerly-anticipated movie. To give an example for a less sublime film, I remember going to see Attack of the Clones with John at the Ziegfield in midtown Manhattan, an opulent, gorgeous movie house, and the line for that weaved around two corners of the block. While I've never been that big of a Star Wars fan, I could feel the excitement as much as anyone else, and the simple fact of being part of such a huge line seemed to confirm the importance of such an event as this. (Too bad the film itself didn't live up to the anticipation...) There was a similar feeling at the Angelika yesterday, for Blue Valentine. You could feel the excitement for it building in the air (although there was some buzz for Another Year as well). It goes without saying, perhaps, that both shows were sellouts.

I had to sit towards the front again. If you ever go to the Angelika, always get a seat next to the wall. The auditoriums are small enough that you'll still have a perfect view, and the rows are small enough that you won't have to make your way past two dozen people just so you can go to the bathroom. If you get a seat next to a lamp, you can read your book while you're waiting. I lucked out in that Another Year was playing in the room where you can't feel the rumble of the subway beneath your feet (some people don't like that).

The movie itself was good. Some people are calling this Mike Leigh's best; I wouldn't go that far. All the talk is around Lesley Manville's performance, but Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen were what really did it for me. They made such a warm and loving couple; you wanted to be around them and to follow their lives.

So does anyone have any stories about being on line for a movie? I had briefly considered trying to make an ongoing feature of some sort based on this, but I'm not sure how I would do it. I probably won't, but it's a nice idea to kick around.