4.14.2012

that sinking feeling

after fifteen years of blissful ignorance, this week i wandered into my local theater to take part in the 3D extravaganza that is the re-release of james cameron's titanic (1997).

now, if you're a regular around here you know it's generally my editorial policy to not spend time talking about movies i don't like. it only really comes up during queue de grâce weeks when what i am watching isn't up to me. i don't do this for a living so i usually have the luxury of only focusing on things i am excited about and want to share and i like it that way. i only make this exception because my other filmgoing experiences this week stand in such stark contrast to cameron's film and illustrate what i find so great and perplexing about the movies.

leaving titanic sunday night, i wasn't feeling much. i didn't like it, but it didn't go much beyond that. i felt disdain for cameron but that's nothing new. i tried to find a way to judge it based on how well it achieved its own aims but i couldn't find very much to acquit it even then. the positives - i love gloria stuart. i have since 1932, figuratively, and it was nice to see her, leo's boyish charm was well-used, unlike almost every other role he's done in the last decade where he looks like a child playing dress up in daddy's overcoat, kate winslet was beautiful and her costumes were immaculate, and it looked expensive. i am not sure that that's an achievement, as it cost 200 million dollars to make, but you could see dollars on the screen. that's about it. walking out of the theater that's all i had - an impressive technical spectacle, perhaps, but little else. as the hours wore on, though, something else crept in. you could possibly chalk this up to only getting three hours of sleep between the movie and going in to work the next morning, but i began to feel worse. the more i thought about the movie, the more i felt, for lack of a better phrase, bereft of hope. alone.

and i can't even attribute that to the content or presentation of the film. like i said, it could have been sleep deprivation. it could have been low blood sugar. it could have simply been a long, dark night of the soul that coincidentally rammed into an existential iceberg. all i know is my mood took a drastic downturn and the catalyst for it seemed to be this movie. slowly but surely, though, everything else i watched this week filled the sick void that cameron left behind. the first thing i saw in the wake of this was michael r. roskam's excellent bullhead (2011).

ostensibly a crime film, it turns out to be something much more poignant. this belgian import begins as a tale about the hormone mafia in the corrupt cattle industry, but quickly reveals a damaged heart built on childhood trauma and the making of a human monster. the hulking brute at the center of the story is sensitive and intuitive, demonstrating instincts his criminal brethren don't possess and a desire for love that is impossible. ultimately, be it because of how he is perceived by others or the result of a life of steroid abuse, he is just too much of a blunt instrument to bridge the gap. the finale reverts to crime film structure, but even that is handled well, as the section is cleverly edited as if he were a literal human bomb. even though the character comes to an end that is inevitable, it was blessedly not obvious. raise a glass to movies in which you can't tell everything that's going to happen twenty minutes ahead of time. titanic could have been exclusively about the two radio operators on board, as much as it was telegraphed. i don't understand why people want to pay for the privilege of knowing everything that's going to happen. why bother? bless bullhead for reminding me that not every film is made with cookie cutters.

the next reinforcements arrived in the form of pjer žalica's fuse (2003).

this excellent dark comedy was part of the austin film society's essential cinema series focusing on films of southeastern europe. this latest program is our local offshoot of los angeles' SEEFest and the screenings on 5.15.12 and 5.22.12 will actually be hosted by that festival's curator, vera mijojlic. set in the years just following the peace accord between bosnia and serbia, it follows the efforts of a small bosnian town to prepare for a visit from bill clinton. tensions between the bosnians and their neighbor serbs, with whom they are forced to put on their best cooperative faces, are never far from the surface. the gift of this film that titanic didn't come within twenty thousand leagues of? subtext. we americans are, fortunately, 150 years down the road from our experience with civil war. as with any subject that far in the dear, dim past, its impact is lessened, its history romanticized. when you have bosnians and serbs appearing together in a political film dealing, even peripherally, with their conflict, the screen almost cannot contain the subtext. filmed just a few years after they were literally committing atrocities against one another, the things unsaid between the characters and the actors portraying them are nearly overwhelming. i am afraid, without such grievous wounds so fresh in our collective memory that we cannot completely comprehend everything this film has to offer. we can certainly give it our best, though. it was a complex and entertaining reminder that we, the audience, have an equal responsibility to rise to the occasion when filmmakers put everything of themselves on the screen for our benefit. it's a mutually rewarding experience. give me something i can dig this deeply into and that offers me something new to think about every time i consider it. it was the antithesis to cameron's blockbuster, in which the only thing below the surface was leo in the final reel.

finally, we go tragic for tragic with werner herzog's complicated rumination on the death penalty, into the abyss (2011).

much like everything herzog does, it is not your garden variety examination of the subject. instead of overtly politicizing the already volatile subject matter, he instead traces the course of pain reverberating outward from a triple homicide in conroe, texas. his approach succeeds where titanic absolutely fails - putting an honest, identifiable human face on extraordinary tragedy. as just one example, when lisa stotler-balloun, whose mother and brother were two of the three victims, recounts how her family was essentially wiped out over the course of six years it is heartbreaking. relating the simple detail of how she got rid of every telephone she owned because she couldn't take another call that was bad news was better than anything james cameron is capable of writing. titanic's dialogue was written on a level just above catchphrase, obvious and clumsy, truly terrible. the performances weren't much better. by pointing his camera at regular people and giving them room to tell their stories, herzog captured ten times the emotion and a raw honesty that cameron can only dream of. it's truly a shame, because the story of that ill-fated ship is fascinating and rife with potential but when you dilute your story to the point that it's geared to appeal to the largest number of people as possible what you are left with is so bland and dumb as to be embarrassing. confident storytellers offer something unique. if it's done well the audience finds themselves in it, rather than having everything spelled out. i am grateful for an artist that has enough faith in himself that he refuses to pander and enough faith in his audience that he sees no need in making his message remedial.

it was insisted to me that i would like titanic. all i can figure is that somehow, inexplicably, my friends still don't understand what i go to the movies for. i don't go to waste my time on the obvious. i don't go to just "turn it off" and kill a couple of hours being mindlessly entertained. i don't buy the myth that thinking and fun are mutually exclusive. it may have hit all the right beats and functioned just like a blockbuster is supposed to but why do you want that if it offers you nothing beyond expensive clockwork? i know i don't. i don't find obvious inspiring. as bad as cameron's extravaganza made me feel, though, my week was saved by artists doing complicated, challenging, entertaining work.

no thanks to titanic, my heart will go on.

4.11.2012

the first queue of spring

spring arrives with its promises of rebirth and revitalization and that seems like as good a time as any to get the ol' queue de grâce up and running again.

it's been a while so, as a refresher, here's how it works: for one full week i relinquish control of my streaming netflix queue to one of you fine folks. during the week, barring visits to actual theaters or screenings i host, i only watch what you have selected for me. no other films, no other television. i do not see a moving image unless it is one that you have selected. i then report back daily, detailing the ups and downs of a week in which i am buffeted by the winds of your cinematic inclinations.

our next guest programmer is miss carla shiflet. say hello, everyone.

i must admit, this is one that i am really excited about. carla and i share a fondness for bygone eras, language (archaic and otherwise) and we would both probably rather be in a movie theater than anywhere else in the world, though she would probably like hers a little warmer. growing up in that part of east texas where time stands still, it paid to be an imaginative kid and she was weaned on cassettes from the golden age of radio and louis l'amour books. she wasn't allowed to go to the picture show, which is actually what her folks called it, but has since made up for lost time. during the day she is an editor at houghton mifflin, though i suspect that is merely to fund an off-hours, non-stop bacchanalia of dusty 45s, vintage summer dresses, trips to the planetarium and, most importantly, movie tickets. i cannot wait to see what she has in store for me and i invite you to follow along as she takes the reins starting monday, 4.16.12. it should be a good one.

4.10.2012

trailer tuesday

hey! the blog turned two yesterday! therefore, i am giving myself this present - this week's entry is for arthur hiller's the in-laws (1979). serpentine, shel!

4.07.2012

these old houses

a few nights ago i went to the austin history center for their new exhibit, taking a walk down austin's cinematic memory lane.

to kick off their exhibit, the first picture shows: historic austin movie houses, they held an opening reception featuring a panel discussion with jay podolnick, jim maloy and john stewart. between the three of them, there is over a century of experience running family theaters and combined lifetimes spent in projection booths. we were treated to reminiscences of drive-in playgrounds, fireproof projection booths from the days before safety film, the desegregation of austin theaters and the ins and outs of keeping our town's moviegoers happy and entertained for the last few decades.

the exhibit itself is packed with hundreds of photographs, documents and blueprints from long-gone venues like the hancock opera house, the yale, the crescent, the varsity, the majestic (which later became my beloved paramount), the queen and the chief drive-in, tracing austin's moviegoing history from 1896 to the present day. combined with the personal, occasionally rambling panel discussion, the exhibit underlined for me a vital component that is too frequently missing from the moviegoing experience these days - community. a lot of these places were mom and pop joints and the excitement you can see in the faces of the people in the auditoriums, box offices and ticket lines goes beyond just having something to do to get out of the house. saturday nights were an event for these folks, and not because an unceasing media machine told them so. these theaters were hubs of activity with real ties to the community, gathering places. they weren't anonymous googleplexes with interiors designed like miniature casinos. they had true personalities.

we are fortunate in this town to still have theaters like the paramount, the violet crown and the alamo drafthouse - locally owned and operated, unique houses that are dedicated to bringing special, interesting cinema to austin's moviegoers. they still attempt to foster that sense of cinematic community, providing events you can be excited about, opportunities to get together with like-minded cinephiles and cinematic fare that goes beyond the everyday. if you'd like to celebrate that feeling and see how we got here you should drop by the austin history center and see this fine exhibit. it is free, open to the public and runs through 8.19.12. highly recommended.

4.03.2012

trailer tuesday

this week's entry is for walter hill's the warriors (1979).

4.02.2012

no hands!

two of vitagraph's favorite things - vincent price and rollercoasters. this would have been a perfect summer day.

3.27.2012

trailer tuesday

this week's entry is for philip kaufman's adaptation of milan kundera's the unbearable lightness of being (1988).

3.25.2012

hardboiled starlite

the first starlite cinema series installment of this spring is now in the books.

we kicked off our two-part walk down raymond chandler's dark alleys with howard hawks' the big sleep (1946). bogie and bacall (in addition to ray miland, the marx brothers and others) also made cameo appearances in our opener, the looney tunes short, slick hare (1947). it was a beautiful night under the stars for classic film and lauren, as usual, made it that much better with her culinary contributions. first, she started with mounds of fresh fruit.

next, she took that action to the grill.

and, as if that weren't enough, she made whipped cream, drizzled it all with honey and topped it with mint fresh from her garden. hardboiled detective stories and fresh, fire-grilled fruit makes for a fine way to spend a spring evening with friends, new and old. fellow paramount theatre devotee, giraldo barraza, dropped by. he writes the excellent blog, the united states of cinemerica, which everyone should check out, especially if you love the paramount like i do. on top of that, my friend liz, whom i haven't seen in the flesh in years, made it out, which i hope is a regular occurrence now that she lives in austin again. more film, more food, more friends - our motto as we approach our third year of doing these screenings.

speaking of milestones, we celebrate our second starlite anniversary with next month's screening. i always like to make these special so we are going to conclude our first two-part program with a film that is in the running for the movie i have seen more times than any other, robert altman's the long goodbye (1973).

we pick up with chandler's knight-errant detective with elliott gould playing him as if he has been in hibernation since the big sleep, waking up in the sun-dappled, early seventies los angeles that is now populated by yoga enthusiasts and two-bit hoods who are armchair pop psychologists. the list of things i love about this movie is long, and one day i will write a vital-graph piece all about it, but until then, join us on saturday, 4.28.12, at 8:30 p.m. to celebrate our anniversary and catch an underrated american classic. here is the facebook event page. feel free to rsvp there or just send me a note and i will make sure you get all the pertinent information. come early, come late, bring food, don't bring food. as long as we get to see your face it's o.k. with me.