Our Moving Image staff surveys the world of film and video from classic to global, experimental to digital.
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was. News Event: Royal Baby Arrives Media and social media have been enjoying something of a frenzy over the birth on Monday of the son of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Bets were placed […]
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was.
News Event: Royal Baby Arrives
Media and social media have been enjoying something of a frenzy over the birth on Monday of the son of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Bets were placed around the world as to what the new Prince’s chosen name would be, and he is now the first person to have their own Wikipedia page prior to being named.
So, in case you haven’t read the headlines in pretty much any major publication this week: spoiler alert! And the chosen name? George Alexander Louis, or Prince George of Cambridge. Since it’s announcement, the new appellation has already been heavily analyzed.
The newest member of the Windsor clan will be third in line for the throne, and along with excitement about the birth itself and the release of the Royal Baby Name, much of the media coverage has gone into covering itself—in The New Yorker, John Cassidy asks “Why Does America Give a Hoot?”, and The Guardian provided a comprehensive report on how different countries on “how the rest of the world covered the story.”
Already the subject of pre-natal scrutiny, the Prince now faces the distinct probability of a lifetime of public attention and high expectations, hardly a new story in the history of young children destined to become monarchs. And why is this spectacle such a spectacle? One of Cassidy’s interviewees pinpointed the exoticism of royalty in the modern day, an anachronism that draws our attention and makes for a good story.
Film Recommendation: Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor
One such story of a child destined for monarchy is made both deeply personal and sweepingly epic in Bertolucci’s 1987 masterpiece The Last Emperor. The film, beautifully shot by Vittorio Storaro, chronicles the life of Emperor Pu Yi, took the throne of China at age three, in 1908, structured as a counterpoint between the starkness of the present day—Pu Yi’s internment and interrogation for alleged war crimes after the fall of Manchukuo—and the extravagance and tragedy of Pu Yi’s personal trajectory.
While Bertolucci received permission from the Chinese government to shoot the film on location in The Forbidden Palace, it fully avoids the danger of feeling like propaganda. Alternately glorifying and critiquing its subjects, it makes visible one version of what the new Prince George of Cambridge may have in store, in its nuanced exploration of how investing children, and human beings, as symbolic vessels of arbitrary power makes its effects on them as private individuals.
Featuring a score by Ryuichi Sakamoto and David Byrne, and performances by Peter O’Toole, Joan Chen, and John Lone as the Emperor Pu Yi, The Last Emperor won a well-deserved nine Academy Awards, and is arguably one of Bertolucci’s greatest contributions to cinema.
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was. News Event: George Zimmerman Verdict The thing about connecting the news with film is that it tends towards the political, and the seemingly-obvious thing to talk about this week is Trayvon Martin, George […]
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was.
News Event: George Zimmerman Verdict
The thing about connecting the news with film is that it tends towards the political, and the seemingly-obvious thing to talk about this week is Trayvon Martin, George Zimmerman, Florida’s Stand Your Ground Law. It’s also one of the hardest things to talk about this week. How to begin to talk about something so charged, where an entire country seems to hold incredibly strong feelings and thoughts about this incident, and second-order thoughts and feelings about those as well – the one thing that seems undeniably clear is that this is complicated.
Some people might respond that Zimmerman is guilty of the second-degree murder with which he was charged, and therefore it isn’t complicated. But even that response – the fact that there is such an extensive response – is a testament to the fact that the outcome of the events that night in 2012 have an aftermath, and even when the facts of the incident itself seem clear, the ripples that it made and continues to make are part of its complexity. It’s complex, among many other reasons, because we’re dealing one the one hand with “facts” of a concrete occurrence and the way that they work in the legal system, and on the other hand with overwhelmingly big ideological concepts and conversations and the way they work in a social milieu, or really, a messy network of intersecting social milieus that together make up the United States today.
I’ve been scouring the media trying to make sense of this for myself, and I think that President Obama, in his press conference speech earlier today, really does address the situation and its complexity with grace, compassion, and a sort of honesty that isn’t always what we expect from politicians. It is well worth watching. Speaking in deeply personal terms, he both acknowledges the grief of Martin’s family, and the need for us, as a nation, to find ways to move on, to address what we can in the present, to make change in a positive and lasting way. And that’s one of the most important things that is surfacing in this complicated aftermath: conversation. It is a conversation about race, as many in the mainstream and social media are focusing on, and it is also a conversation about guns, about laws, about conflict resolution and gender ideology and masculinity and socio-economics. And race. One of the notable parts of Obama’s speech is his acknowledgement that politicians may not be the best people to be leading conversations on race, saying that “they can end up being stilted and politicized.” But while politicians may avoid organizing them, these conversations are sometimes taken up by filmmakers.
Movie Recommendation: Errol Morris’ The Thin Blue Line
Every story has multiple sides, relayed by fallible humans to other fallible humans – a thought that perhaps bears upon a case like that of George Zimmerman and his plea of self-defense in which is his own word served as primary evidence. One way that film can be like the news is its potential for presenting these multiple sides, and one film that does this in a haunting and revolutionary way is Errol Morris’ 1988 documentary The Thin Blue Line. If connecting the news with film tends toward the political, then it is worth noting that this documentary has been dubbed “the most political work of cinema in the last 20 years” by Variety.
In The Thin Blue Line, Morris (whose worked was showcased in a retrospective in 2000 at the Walker, and who brought his film Standard Operating Procedure to the Walker in 2008) investigates the death of Robert Wood, a Dallas police officer, who stopped a stolen car one night in 1976 and was shot twice and killed by someone in the car. The film is constructed from Morris’ interviews, with his famous Interrotron, with the man convicted of the crime, the other man in the car at the time, and various witnesses and detectives involved with the case. It is also notable for its multiple staged reenactments of the shooting based on testimony from different interviewees, re-creating in hauntingly cinematic images the possible narratives of that night, but interestingly choosing to omit a visualization of the “true” series of events that Morris seems to be leading us towards with the film. Though he made the film after the case had been closed, its production and release prompted a re-opening of the case which complicates and challenges the way that film reflects or even affects the ‘real world’, and the ways in which it can be incredibly political.
The Thin Blue Line is available to stream and on DVD/Blu-Ray from Netflix.
If you’re looking for other challenging films to see in the coming weeks, look no further than the Walker Cinema, two weekends from now. Errol Morris has recently served as producer, along with Werner Herzog, on Joshua Oppenheimer’s much-anticipated The Act of Killing, which also structures itself around the reenactment of difficult, ethically-complex subject matter. The Act of Killing will be screening Wednesday, July 31 at the Walker Cinema as part of a series spanning several days, called Filmmakers in Conversation: Joshua Oppenheimer with the Act of Killing, that also includes a screening of the much-longer director’s cut and a workshop with Oppenheimer (who will be in attendance at all three events) on Saturday afternoon, August 3.
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was. News Event: The Lone Ranger in Theaters As one of the summer’s major times for blockbuster releases, this weekend saw Gore Verbinski’s The Lone Ranger getting solidly outpaced at the box office by Despicable Me 2. There’s […]
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was.
News Event: The Lone Ranger in Theaters
As one of the summer’s major times for blockbuster releases, this weekend saw Gore Verbinski’s The Lone Ranger getting solidly outpaced at the box office by Despicable Me 2. There’s been a lot of build up for this new filmic adaptation of the old radio ‘classic,’ and one has to wonder whether some of that build up is part of the lukewarm reception that has met The Lone Ranger this weekend. As an action film produced by the widely-beloved Johnny Depp (who also stars as Tonto), most of this build-up is less about the film than the politics surrounding it — as NPR puts it: “Does Disney’s Tonto Reinforce Stereotypes Or Overcome Them?”
This is the first of a host of questions that the film raises, some of which may have different answers for Native and non-Native people (and for different individuals and groups within those larger categories). Should Johnny Depp have been adopted by the Comanche? Does Depp’s ‘indigenousness’ make the film okay? Why not have a Native actor play Tonto? Does representation always have to be accurate (and how do we assess that accuracy)? Where is the line between pure entertainment and that which becomes political? (Fuzzy and shifting, I’d suggest.) And—is it even a good film? (The New York Times says: not so much.)
As a medium, film is dependent upon images—it is built upon representation. And while the history of film as a bastian for Western white (Protestant) upper-middle-class straight male representation has been pretty solid, when the depictions we see in films include the identities of people or groups of people who do not fit that white-male-category, the way we evaluate those representations has a tendency to become more political, to draw more ire, or require more delicacy. Coming from my position as a white, female-identified, queer-presenting, liberal-arts educated Unitarian Universalist American 23-year-old who hasn’t actually seen The Lone Ranger, I’m probably more qualified (to a point) to comment on the representation of women in film, or the representation in New Queer Cinema like Weekend or Save Me, though I make no claims to have insight into the gay male experience(s).
So in the case of the question of misappropriation of indigenous culture, I’m going to defer to Adrienne Keene, who runs the blog Native Appropriations, and who has been writing insightful commentary on the pre-production, production, and now release of The Lone Ranger (and a host of other deeply interesting topics around indigenous representation). You can read her reactions to the film here—and as is clear from the 134 comments that have accrued (as of the writing of this post) since she shared her thoughts on Thursday, The Lone Ranger has at the very least given us a highly visible centerpiece for continuing an incredibly important conversation.
Film Recommendation: Jim Jarmusch’s Dead Man
As the media and debates around the release of The Lone Ranger reminds us, representation of Native Americans in film—especially Hollywood film—has ranged from the woefully stereotyped to the relatively accurate (although tending heavily towards the woeful end of the spectrum). The 2009 documentary Reel Injun: On the Trail of the Hollywood Indian, by Cree filmmaker Neil Diamond, does a fantastic job of chronicling and critiquing the portrayal of Native people throughout the history of film (incidentally available on DVD and Blu-Ray from Netflix).
And if you missed The Lone Ranger this weekend, don’t worry—or, if you agree with Adrienne’s assessment, congratulate yourself! Either way, you can still see Johnny Depp in a Western that does a decidedly decent job of engaging with Native American representation, and is just straight up great filmmaking: Jim Jarmusch’s 1995 cult classic Dead Man.
Shot in sumptuous black and white, this “Psychedelic Western” (as Jarmusch terms the genre) follows the accountant William Blake (Depp), who is being hunted across the American West for a ‘murder’ he committed in self defense. He is accompanied for much of his journey by a Native American (Gary Farmer) named Nobody who idolizes the poet William Blake and resolves to lead Depp’s Blake to the Pacific Ocean, in order to return him to his proper place in the spirit world.
Alternately meditative, wryly funny, brutal, pensive, trippy, and melancholy, Dead Man is the ultimate post-modern Revisionist Western. In typical Jarmusch style, it features a cast including the likes of Iggy Pop, Billy Bob Thornton, and Robert Mitchum (in his last role), and a chilling, improvised score recorded by Neil Young. Its engagement with the tropes of the Western genre is deeply self-aware, as is its engagement with the stereotypes of indigenous representation, where carefully-researched post-modern pastiche enacts a sort of tightrope walk between ironic critique and earnest representation. It crams itself with tropes but for a reason; and several conversations in the film are conducted in Cree and Blackfoot languages, left untranslated as exclusive jokes for members of those nations—a choice that is not unpolitical, but is certainly interesting and feels, as a gesture, well-intentioned and well executed. By some accounts, it may stray into the territory of cultural misuse, but if so, it redeems itself with its self-awareness. While it may raise some of the same questions that The Lone Ranger has been inspiring, it does so in a way that is sensitive but not sterile, within the context of a film that raises a host of other questions, beautiful, haunting, and incredibly worth watching.
Other Jim Jarmusch films that are equally worth your time are also available to stream on Netflix, including (one of my top five films of all time) Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai, Broken Flowers, and The Limits of Control.
If you’re interested in continuing your exploration of how Native Americans are represented on the film, Chris Eyre’s 1998 classic Smoke Signals (also starring Gary Farmer) is a great place to start; available to stream and on DVD/Blu-Ray on Netflix.
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was. News Event: Wendy Davis’ Filibuster There’s just too much happening this week to keep our film recommendations down to one! Although it received less ‘official’ press than Wednesday’s Supreme Court Rulings, Fort […]
News Event: Wendy Davis’ Filibuster
There’s just too much happening this week to keep our film recommendations down to one!
Although it received less ‘official’ press than Wednesday’s Supreme Court Rulings, Fort Worth Democrat Wendy Davis’ filibuster of the Texas State Senate on Tuesday night drew a firestorm of attention on social media, particularly Twitter. Throughout her 14-hour stand against a proposed bill to ban abortion in Texas, support poured in from across the nation with the hash-tag “#StandWithWendy”—even President Obama shared the filibuster live-stream link and tweeted: “Something special is happening in Austin tonight.”
Nor is it the first time Davis has starred in this age-old piece of political theater; her 2011 filibuster of a budget bill including massive public education funding cuts also forced Perry to institute a special session to pass the budget. And although the practical victory from Tuesday may be short-lived (Texas Governor Rick Perry has already called a second special session for next Monday), the marathon stand for abortion rights has made Wendy Davis an overnight political celebrity, and represents a strong ideological victory for women’s rights. As Planned Parenthood President Cecile Richards responded, “She’s carrying every woman in the state of Texas, if you will, on her shoulders.”
Film Recommendation: You Can’t Take It With You by Frank Capra
Something about the filibuster not only makes good political theater, but good cinema. The internet is already rippling with speculations as to who will play Wendy Davis in a film version of the event, and plenty of headlines in the aftermath of Tuesday have drawn associations between her efforts and the Frank Capra classic film Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, even inspiring this poster-pastiche for a film entitled Ms. Davis Goes to Austin.
So instead of making the obvious recommendation—although if you haven’t seen Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, run, don’t walk, to your nearest viewing location (available on DVD from Netflix and streaming on Amazon Prime)—I’m going to recommend another great Frank Capra film.
Like Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Frank Capra’s 1938 film You Can’t Take It With You stars Jean Arthur and Jimmy Stewart, this time paired as star-crossed lovers from different walks of life. Tony (Stewart) comes from the stuffy Kirby dynasty, and Alice (Arthur) hails from the free-wheeling Sycamore clan. When the two families meet for dinner, hilarity and ideological conflict ensue, and everyone gets arrested. Based on a Pulitzer Prize-winning play by Moss Hart and George S. Kaufman, The New York Times has called it a “paean to populism,” the film won several Academy Awards, including Best Picture and Best Director, and features a tender performance by the aging Lionel Barrymore.
You Can’t Take It With You is available on DVD and Blu-Ray from Netflix, and instant streaming on Amazon Prime. If you can’t get enough Frank Capra, Lady for a Day is also available to stream on Netflix, as are a number of other Capra classics are available on Amazon Prime, including Arsenic and Old Lace.
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was. News Event: Supreme Court Rulings on DOMA and Prop. 8 I couched last week’s news about Exodus International in the context of Pride Month, and now (at least in Minneapolis), it’s Pride Week. […]
News Event: Supreme Court Rulings on DOMA and Prop. 8
I couched last week’s news about Exodus International in the context of Pride Month, and now (at least in Minneapolis), it’s Pride Week. And to last Friday’s laundry list of LGBT victories from the past year, we can add what has arguably been the headline of the week (so well worth the associative filmic rewind!).
Wednesday at last brought two much-anticipated Supreme Court decisions on the cases United States v. Windsor and Perry v. Holingsworth—or rather, a decision and dismissal. The Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) was first signed into law in 1996 by President Bill Clinton, and in a 5-4 ruling on the first of those two cases, the Supreme Court has declared DOMA unconstitutional on the grounds that it denies same-sex couples the 5th Amendment rights to equal liberty.
On the heels of this historic decision, which now extends the same federal benefits and legal recognition to same-sex marriages legal at the state level, came the Court’s ruling on California’s Prop. 8 (Perry v. Hollingsworth), which has been met with a mixture of satisfaction and disappointment among proponents of gay marriage. While the ruling that the pro-Prop. 8 petitioners lack standing to bring the case to court constitutes a technical victory for LGBT rights activists, NPR’s Carrie Johnson explains “the court avoids the underlying issues…that means same-sex marriages in California may resume, but the ruling does not have a broader implication across the country.”
To get more coverage and commentary on this week’s developments regarding these major rulings, follow up at the federal level on SCOTUSblog and the New York Times, and at NPR member station KQED for a focus on the Prop. 8 ruling and its implications in California.
Film Recommendation: Weekend by Andrew Haigh
This kind of “partial victory,” as some have dubbed the ruling on Prop. 8, has a certain echo in what I’ve experienced to be the occasional plight of queer cinema. To my own chagrin, I can’t count the number of times I’ve seen something and said “It’s good, for a lesbian film…”—which often means on some level that it’s good because it’s a lesbian (or “gay” or “queer” or choose your label…) film: don’t get me wrong—every time a queer film gets made, it’s a partial victory. But there are a lot of Perry v. Holingsworth queer films out there, leaving me sitting here yearning for more films in success bracket of United States v. Windsor.
So beyond mere connections in content this week, I want to make a gesture at this connection on the level of super-structure, between film industry/genre and political movements, and the challenges they face. At the risk of oversimplifying the parallels in a deeply complicated set of issues, I think this is a particularly appropriate example of how one feels the ripples of the political in the aesthetic, and the aesthetic in the political.
Both LGBT rights activists and a new generation of auteurs of New Queer Cinema are navigating a sometimes-delicate, sometimes-furiously charged balancing act. This interplay finds itself both in grassroots movements seeking to create change on an abstract level and change on a practical level, in films that want to act on a political spectrum while still acting on an aesthetic spectrum, or perhaps acting on those spectrums one through the other. And the kind of national (and international) shifts that create or reflect an environment in which there can be the kind of rulings handed down on Wednesday—these are the kinds of shifts that, arguably, make possible the kind of filmmaking that Andrew Haigh’s minimalist masterpiece Weekend achieves—or perhaps, are made possible by it.
So here is Weekend, a film that does not sacrifice the political to the aesthetic, through sheer force of its ability to operate so beautifully within its commitment to the belief that the personal is political. It premiered at SXSW and swept festival circuits in 2011 (and shook my personal world), garnering well-deserved critical acclaim and enshrinement in the Criterion Collection. While this week’s film is not about marriage per sé, it is a film about relationship, and as Rilke writes in his Letters to a Young Poet, about solitude filled with the possibility of relationship—all shot with an incredibly intimate camera in shifting palettes both stark and lush.
I think Weekend may be for New Queer Cinema what the defeat of DOMA is for LGBT rights—groundbreaking. Why? Because it escapes this rhetoric of “it’s good, for a gay film…”. It’s just undeniably good. Tom Cullen and Chris New star as Russell and Glen, two young gay men in the U.K. who meet and connect in what the Walker Still Dots series pointed out as a modern updating of Brief Encounter; A.O. Scott aptly praised the film as a “perfectly realized, bracing, present tense exploration of sex, intimacy, and love.”
All that being said, Wisconsin Democratic Senator Tammy Baldwin issued a statement after this week’s rulings, celebrating the advance of LGBT rights but reminding us that “there is more work to be done.” To my mind, this is not so much a caution as a cause for excitement—this is work that is ready to be done—and Andrew Haigh’s brand of filmmaking is in this same universe of possibility, by being more than partial victory. Weekend heralds a shifting and increasingly nuanced queer aesthetic agenda that will continue to work with and beside this larger queer political agenda.
With so much to celebrate, you may find yourself in need of a breather amidst all the festivities, rainbows, camp, and choruses of “YMCA” this Pride Weekend. Consider giving yourself 97 minutes of beautiful, delicate, heartbreaking (queer) realism.
On weekends when the Walker Cinema is empty, Headline Rewind points out other worthwhile films that respond to headlines from the week that was. News Event: Anti-Gay Group Exodus International Disbands June is Pride Month, and among the many LGBT victories that will be celebrated this year — changing policy in the Boy Scouts of America; […]
News Event: Anti-Gay Group Exodus International Disbands
June is Pride Month, and among the many LGBT victories that will be celebrated this year — changing policy in the Boy Scouts of America; a series of state legislative victories about same-sex marriage (including here at home in Minnesota); presidental support for the constitutional legality of gay marriage — is something that is perhaps less a “victory” than it is a barometer of a growing cultural shift. Until two days ago, Exodus International had functioned for nearly 40 years as an interdenominational “ex-gay” Christian organization whose mission statement, according to its website, was “mobilizing the body of Christ to minister grace and truth to a world impacted by homosexuality” — or rather, to change people’s sexual orientations.
But on Wednesday, Exodus International President Alan Chambers issued a statement ap0logizing for the harm he and the organization had caused, through action or message, to members of the LGBT community and their allies, and announced that the organization will disband. In a formal letter of apology (read it in full here), Chambers stated that:
“Moving forward, we will serve in our pluralistic culture by hosting thoughtful and safe conversations about gender and sexuality, while partnering with others to reduce fear, inspire hope, and cultivate human flourishing.”
In an open letter of response published this morning in the Minneapolis Star Tribune, Kevin Winge responds that “there is an art to apologizing,” and that in his words and actions this week, Chambers has “done something profoundly right.”
Film Recommendation: Save Me by Robert Cary
While Exodus International worked at the macro level in real life, the fictional Genesis House in Robert Cary’s 2007 indie feature Save Me serves as a complex microcosm for the kind of collision between faith and sexuality that Chambers’ organization hopes to move forward in addressing with compassion. Produced by and starring gay actor Chad Allen, who himself came from a strongly religious (Roman Catholic) background, Save Me follows Mark (Allen) as he navigates recovery from a near-overdose. His brother enrolls him in a home for homosexual men seeking to become “ex-gay,” and things invariably get complicated when Mark and his housemate Scott (Robert Grant) begin to develop a close connection that challenges the group home’s goal of curing homosexuality.
This is a necessary challenge, one that Alan Chambers has publicly recognized and affirmed this week, and this film presents it in a surprisingly nuanced way. Albeit melodramatic, there are strong performances from all sides of the argument; both Mark and Scott, and the head of Genesis House, played with a compelling ferocity by Judith Light, demand our sympathy. So while we most definitely have cause to cheer the changes heralded by Chambers’ announcement this week, this film is a perfect piece to bring into dialogue with recent events, in its ability to highlight the greyer areas of human emotion and experience and remind us that empathy is, like apology, an art worth practicing.
Save Me, which first screened at Sundance in 2007, is conveniently, streaming online at Netflix Instant, and if the recent news has you interested in Exodus International and its longer history of quiet dissent, you can also check out One Nation Under God, a 1993 documentary by Teodoro Maniaci. It chronicles the departure of two of the organization’s major figures in order to pursue a life together as male partners, and is also available for instant streaming on Netflix.