Movies seen in June; starred titles are re-watches.
MULTIPLE MANIACS
Easier to admire than unabashedly love—Waters would greatly refine and perfect his trash cinema aesthetic with his next two features (right now, it plays more like wacko Warhol.) Thanks to finally being available to watch in the privacy of your own home, it’s more effective in bite-sized pieces, esp. the rape-by-crustacean and most gleefully profane use of a rosary I can imagine. B
DUCK SOUP*
The multiple Grouchos gag is peak onscreen physical comedy only matched by Gene Wilder and Peter Boyle performing “Puttin’ On The Ritz.”
“Don’t look now, but there’s one man too many in this room, and I think it’s you.” A
WON’T YOU BE MY NEIGHBOR?
It’s impossible for me to be too objective about Fred Rogers—like much of my generation, his was not only my favorite TV show as a toddler, but my first favorite show, period. Still, Rogers’ considerable genius came from the vast, previously unrealized potential he saw in educational TV (a far different path than SESAME STREET took)—and how *not* to talk down to his susceptible audience. While director Morgan Neville doesn’t utilize especially innovative techniques (the tiger animation seems a way of filling out time), he does probe deep into Rogers’ successes, but also his failures, anxieties, disappointments, etc., assembling a well-rounded portrait of a legendary figure whom most would be quick to call a saint and leave it at that. A-
MILDRED PIERCE (1945)
I’ve never wanted to slap a movie character more than Veda Pierce. Ida Corwin, on the other hand, I’d love to go bar-hopping with. A-
HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS AT PARTIES
Whoa nelly, a *lot* going on here, much of it agreeable in theory: young punks in Croydon during the Queen’s 1977 Silver Jubilee, an alien cult into groovy vinyl costumes and freaky sexual positions, a near-glowing Elle Fanning as a girl-next-door variation on Scarlett Johansson’s extraterrestrial in UNDER THE SKIN, even a severely made-up Nicole Kidman as a beguiling cross between Debbie Harry and Patsy Stone. Unfortunately, it’s often an incoherent mess, which is not something you’d say about director John Cameron Mitchell’s other three features (as for Neil Gaiman, whose short story this is adapted from, I’m not familiar enough with his oeuvre to judge.) One can catch glimpses of what could have been in some of the punk stuff, and you can’t fault Mitchell for a lack of ambition; maybe Sci-Fi’s just not his forte. C
GENERATION WEALTH
What made photographer/filmmaker Lauren Greenfield’s THE QUEEN OF VERSAILLES portrait of obscene wealth pre and post-recession so thrilling was its surgical focus on one couple’s hubris; here, as one piece of a multimedia project a decade in the making, she widens her canvas to explore how status symbol greed is far from an isolated phenomenon—more like an epidemic, really. While making ample points through a variety of subjects, it often feels like she’s hitting the same note repeatedly, which becomes problematic at a somewhat bloated-even-at-106-minutes duration. Unexpectedly, she’s most insightful when she turns the camera on herself, dissecting her own work-driven lifestyle and how it parallels the film’s other obsessives. B-
MAPPLETHORPE
Slightly above average biopic—Matt Smith is solid (and at times, transformative), although John Benjamin Hickey’s more soulful as his older lover/benefactor Sam Wagstaff. Director of one of the best music docs ever (DiG!), Ondi Timoner’s well-suited to this material and her use of Super 16 film feels just right. Could’ve delved deeper into why Mapplethorpe found such inspiration in sexual taboo and transgression, but it ably celebrates the innovation and compositional beauty of his best work. Can only hope the eventual adaptation of Patti Smith’s JUST KIDS fleshes out the encouraging sketch begun here. B
SCOTTY AND THE SECRET HISTORY OF HOLLYWOOD
Never a movie star but definitely a character, Scotty Bowers’ life was inadvertently custom-built for a documentary. He ran a brothel inside a Hollywood Blvd. gas station in the years following World War II, one that infamously catered to same-sex shtuppings for closeted stars, as detailed in his scandalous 2012 memoir FULL SERVICE. Matt Tyrnauer’s film finds him still feisty at 94 and decidedly unapologetic about what many would perceive as a sordid past, but that’s exactly what’s refreshing and fascinating about the guy. His tenacity seemingly knows no bounds, from his obsessiveness (he’s a hoarder, with at least five or six homes/garages overflowing with memorabilia and assorted random junk) to an almost crippling need to do everything himself, much to the chagrin of Lois, his long-suffering second wife. Essential viewing for Hollywood Golden Age devotees and, in the end, kind of a weird but celebratory companion piece to THE CELLULOID CLOSET. A-
REAR WINDOW*
First viewing in over 15 years, this time at an outdoor screening (Coolidge At The Greenway.) The meant-to-resemble-ambient sound design proved both a blessing and a curse here: neat happy accidents came about from interactions with the urban environment but it was also difficult at times to pick up on the film’s subtleties, which are crucial to getting caught up in its suspense mechanisms. Still a top ten Hitchcock for me—might’ve been top five if it had more Thelma, less Grace. A-
2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY*
The score, the light show, that jump cut—all of it arguably unmatched fifty years on. However, what really struck me this time (my fourth viewing at the Coolidge, and first in 70MM since 2002) was the use of silence and isolated sound (think heavy breathing) and how chilling that repeated, stationary close-up of HAL 9000’s orange “nipple” is—talk about effective contrasts in composing such an immersive experience only cinema allows. A+
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ANDRE
Fairly pedestrian for a profile documentary—more worthy of CNN than a theatrical release, really. But Andre Leon Talley’s personality is welcome in almost any setting. Just as he nearly stole the show from no less than Anna Wintour in THE SEPTEMBER ISSUE, his (increasingly) larger-than life presence always entertains and intrigues—the capes and caftans are a sight to behold, but so is his trajectory from rather humble origins to renowned cultural critic. B-
WILD AT HEART
I think I skipped this one back in the day because I heard it was excessively violent; apart from that whopper of an opening scene, it’s not like a Nicolas Winding Refn film by any means. Certainly Lynch’s loopiest and possibly broadest feature (haven’t seen DUNE and LOST HIGHWAY) but neither as convincing nor as whole as BLUE VELVET or MULHOLLAND DR. Cage and Dern, however, are for the ages—archetypes as seen through that ever-idiosyncratic Lynch filter. It blows my mind to compare Ladd and Dern here to ENLIGHTENED, where they were a decidedly different mother/daughter combo. B+
HEARTS BEAT LOUD
I’m always a sucker for films about creating your own art—even this film’s “dad rock”. Not as affecting as Brett Haley’s last film THE HERO, in part because Nick Offerman as actor and character is no Sam Elliott, but at least his affable, shyly goofy presence is put to good use; his onscreen daughter Kiersey Clemons also has a terrific voice. Did not recognize Sasha Lane from AMERICAN HONEY as her girlfriend, and was simply delighted that she had one. B
PARIS IS BURNING*
Rewatched due to POSE, which already rivals THE AMERICANS as my favorite TV show this year (yes, really.) Essential, of course and also invaluable—although still very much a cult documentary, can you imagine how different drag culture and its impact would be without it? A
Haunted Jukebox 