When you craft a deeply moving, bittersweet, painfully resonant, obviously allegorical fable that features a protagonist who isn’t human, that’s one thing. When it features a protagonist who isn’t human and isn’t even alive yet? That’s something else altogether. In fact, it’s downright amazing.
And that’s absolutely what Jenny Zervakis’ 2016 (although it’s only just now getting some distribution) self-published mini, Out Of The Nest, is. Ostensibly a simple, somewhat sad tale of a wayward birds’ egg that rolls out of its — you guessed it —nest, in actuality this is a poignant rumination on safety and security of both the physical and emotional varieties, the fragility of life and the relationships we have during (or before) it, and loss. If that sounds like a lot to accomplish in 16 single-panel pages, well, it is — but it’s a task Zervakis accomplishes not so much with ease, but…
The gang’s all here in BUCK BENNY RIDES AGAIN – Jack Benny’s radio gang, that is! Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, announcer Don Wilson, band leader Phil Harris, comic actor Andy Devine, and crooner Dennis Day all show up for this fun-filled musical comedy romp directed by Mark Sandrich. Even Jack’s radio nemesis Fred Allen is heard (though not seen) cracking jokes at his rival’s expense!
The movie plays like an extended sketch from one of Jack’s radio or TV programs, as the vain Jack falls for pretty Joan Cameron (Ellen Drew), one of a trio of singing sisters (the other two are Virginia Dale and Lillian Cornell) trying to break into show biz. They “meet cute” when Jack accidentally smashes into Joan’s taxi. Jack keeps flubbing his chances with Joan, who only goes for manly, rugged Western types (“I wouldn’t go out with him if he drove up in a sleigh…
With this year’s Sundance Film Festival getting underway in Colorado, I’m going to be spending the next two weeks looking at some films that caused a stir at previous Sundances. Today, I’m taking a look at 2018’s The Tale.
The Tale is all about memory.
Jennifer Fox (Laura Dern) is, as her mother (Ellen Burstyn) often reminds her, nearly fifty years old and childless. She’s been engaged to the sensitive Martin (Common) for three years but she’s in no hurry to get married. As for children — well, she decided a long time ago that she didn’t want to have children. Jennifer is a documentarian and a teacher. She not only records real life but she also teaches others how to do the same thing. She makes films that, in the decades to come, will be used by future students of history who want to know what it was like to live in the late 20th and early 21st Century. And yet, it’s her own history that Jennifer has never come to terms with.
When her mother comes across a school essay that a 13 year-old Jennifer once wrote about her relationship with her riding instructor, Mrs. G (Elizabeth Debicki), and her running coach, Bill (Jason Ritter), Jennifer dismisses her concerns. As Jennifer explains it to Martin, her mother is just upset because Jennifer once had a boyfriend who was “older.” Of course, that older boyfriend was in his 40s. What’s obvious to everyone but Jennifer is that her coach took advantage of and raped her. Jennifer, however, refuses to accept that. She refers to the coach as being her “lover” and, more than a few times, she attempts to dismiss the whole topic by shrugging and saying, “It was the 70s.”
It’s not that Jennifer doesn’t realize the truth about what actually happened. Laura Dern gives a fiercely intelligent performance as Jennifer, one that slowly and deliberately peels away at the layers of defensive protection that Jennifer has spent the past 35 years developing. Jennifer knows what happened but she’s allowed her memory to cloud the reality of it, largely because that’s the only way that she could deal with the aftereffects of Bill’s sexual abuse. When Jennifer thinks back to the summer that she spent with Mrs. G and Bill, she first sees herself as she was when she was 15 years old, curious and headstrong. It’s only when Jennifer looks at a photograph that was taken that summer that she sees starts to see herself as she really was, an introverted and vulnerable 13 year-old (played by Isabelle Nelisse) who was groomed and abused by two predators.
As Jennifer investigates her past and finally begins to understand what really happened over the course of that summer, her memories begin to change. Hazily-remembered conversations take on new meaning and she begins to understand that terrible truth between the looks that were often exchanged between Bill and Mrs. G. At times, the older Jennifer finds herself interrogating her memories of Bill, Mrs. G, and even her younger self. She demands to know how they could have done what they did and their answers leave you wondering whether you’re hearing what they would really say or if your just hearing what Jennifer would hope they would say. When Jennifer talks to others who were around that summer, she’s shocked to learn that she wasn’t the only one who Bill abused and her insistence that she was Bill’s lover (as opposed to his victim) sounds more and more hollow. When Jennifer finally does track down some of her abusers, you wonder if their somewhat confused reactions are due to guilt or if it’s possible that there were so many victims that they don’t even remember what they did to Jenny Fox. And if they do remember, they seem to be either horrifically ignorant or curelly unconcerned about the consequences of their actions.
It’s a brave and powerful film, one that is made all the more disturbing by the fact that director and screenwriter Jennifer Fox is telling her own story. At least year’s Sundance Film Festival, it premiered to acclaim and controversy. There was also some surprise when, instead of securing a theatrical release, the film was instead sold to HBO. At the time, there was a lot of concern that the film’s power would somehow be diluted as a result of playing on television as opposed to a big screen. However, in hindsight, the small screen — with its unavoidable vulnerability — was the perfect place for this uncompromising and emotionally raw film.
The Tale is not an easy film to watch but it is an important one. It’s a film for anyone who has ever struggled to come to terms with the past. It’s both a reminder that you’re not alone and a warning to not ignore or laugh off your suspicions. It’s also a good example of the type of film that probably would never have been discovered if not for Sundance. There’s a lot of legitimate criticism that one can direct towards the Sundance Film Festival but occasionally, it does do what it’s supposed to do.
Wynne W. Davies was born in London, the son of a cabinet maker and the oldest of five children. Wynne’s artistic talents were obvious from an early age and, when he was 12, he won a scholarship to study at the South Kensington Museum School of Art. When Wynne was 19, he found work as a merchant seaman and spent four years sailing the oceans before he eventually settled down in Australia. After spending a few years working as a farmhand, Wynne finally decided to pursue a career in commercial illustration. In 1922, he opened his first studio in Australia and soon found success. With the exception of seven years that he spent living and working in New York City, Wynne Davies would spend the rest of his life and career in Australia.
Wynne Davies did everything from Disney film posters to paperback and pulp magazine covers. His work often seems to have the same spirit of adventure that led Wynne Davies to eventually end up living in Australia. Here’s just a small sampling of his work:
This may not be one of Gwen’s more popular videos but I like it because, like her in this video, I’m usually up at 4 in the morning.
Of course, in the video, Gwen’s up at four in the morning and looking totally put together because she’s waiting for her lover to return. They’ve had a fight. He’s left her. And now, she can’t sleep. Not even going for a drive through the early morning darkness helps.
Myself, when I’m up at 4 in the morning, it’s mostly because I got wrapped up either reading or watching something and, for whatever reason, I lost track of time. Usually, around two, I always say, “I really should get some sleep …. but let’s see what’s on TCM!” If it turns out to be a classic film noir or an old horror movie, there’s no way I’m going to sleep.
Even worse is when I’m trying to turn off my TV but I accidentally click the button for Netflix instead and, before you know it, I’m watching old episodes of Degrassi: The Next Class. Then suddenly, I’ll realize that it’s not five in the morning and I’ve spent an hour yelling, “No, Maya! Zig’s no good for you!” at the TV. That’s happened more times than I want to admit.
Much like Gwen, I usually react to discovering that I’ve stayed up too late by walking around the house. Usually, I end up accidentally kicking a wall while barefoot or tripping over a stair. Once I wandered out in the backyard and somehow managed to lock myself out of the house. Of course, I was only wearing my beloved Pirates t-shirt and it was like 21 degrees outside so I quickly came to regret not getting to bed at two.
So, my point is, I like this video because I can relate to it. In fact, I’ll probably think about it a few hours from now, when I realize that it’s 4 a.m. and I’m still awake.
Through the Shattered Lens 