Favorite (four), eighty-eight

Just like in my other eighty-seven posts in this series, I want to take a second to single out the highlights of my recent film viewing.  Most of the films I have been glad to see but only a very few have stayed with me.  This series is my filter for those and my hope is one or two will be good to you as well.

John Ford's The Sun Shines Bright

I have been watching more John Ford of late than I ever have and it is clear I am only beginning to scratch the surface of who he was as a filmmaker.  What seems clear to me at this point is that he was deeply interested in America, where we had been and where we might be going.  He wanted to tell our history, examine it, and expose our people for the times they fought for unjust causes.  The more I watch, the more Ford seems like the narrative version of Wiseman, a filmmaker deeply concerned with our institutions and the very foundation on which this country is supposed to rest.

Dawn Porter's John Lewis: Good Trouble

A wonderful introduction to the life and work of Lewis who for the last 60 years was one of the most important figures in civil rights.  It gave me the best sense yet of the risks taken by those who were on the front lines of sit-ins and marches in the sixties.

John Ford's The Prisoner of Shark Island

The more John Ford I watch the more I feel that, as much as any American director of his generation, he explored the issue of race relations among blacks and whites in this country.  Here, already in the 1930s, he gives us a story with black heroes and once again a scenario where our white lead needs his black friend in order to overcome the obstacles in front of him.  

Has there ever been an American director who more consistently grappled with our country's past or who more often employed songs like "Taps" and "Dixie" that immediately call to mind our wars and our history?

Not to mention it is hard to overlook the deep humanism at work in this film, a quality of Ford I've read about but have only begun to appreciate.

Drew DeNicola and Olivia Mori's Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me

A film for anyone like me with a cursory knowledge of Big Star and the cult that has grown around the 70s Memphis band.  The interviews shine light on the short, influential career of the band and moments like Stipe singing Kangaroo make you want to immediately go out and listen to all their work.  

Recent Tom Sizemore interview

 Great to see Tom Sizemore mention The Last Lullaby in a recent interview:

https://www.ageofthenerd.com/2023/02/interview-with-tom-sizemore-starring-in-impuratus/

Favorite (four), eighty-seven

Just like in my other eighty-six posts in this series, I want to take a second to single out the highlights of my recent film viewing.  Most of the films I have been glad to see but only a very few have stayed with me.  This series is my filter for those and my hope is one or two will be good to you as well.

Sam Peckinpah's Ride the High Country

Timing is a critical part of appreciating certain works of art.  Sometimes you discover them when you're too young, sometimes when you're too old, and sometimes the timing is just right.  I have probably watched this early Peckinpah western 2 or 3 other times, never quite clicking with it like some of my peers.  But this time it was different.  As can be expected with Peckinpah, it takes you into some dark, uncomfortable places (Elsa's wedding night!)  What's less expected are the final minutes, the depth of humanity of Peckinpah's characters and the weight Peckinpah is finally able to leave you with as he pays tribute to the slow disappearance of a certain kind of main in a certain kind of world.

Robert Wise's Executive Suite

Wise could very well be an unfair victim of the auteur theory.  Although I have seen no where near his entire body of work, I'm a huge fan of The Set-Up and really like The Day the Earth Stood Still.  I watched this because it's one of Rosenbaum's 1000 essential films and man is it good.  It's unique in its exploration of corporate America and seems like a clear predecessor to Lumet's 12 Angry Men.  

Henry King's The Gunfighter

An extraordinary western that is most impressive in how many later noir films and later westerns it prefigures in its fatalistic setup.  King's direction is concise and sharp and it is the emotional weight he infuses into the story that makes the greatest impact.    

Jonathan Demme's Stop Making Sense

One of these films I thought I had seen until I watched it again.  The real star is Byrne who you can't take your eyes off of.  And if the measure of a good concert film, and I haven't seen many concert films in general, is if it entertains you while giving you a better sense of what the band looks and feels like then Stop Making Sense is hugely successful.