4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
Today is the 81st birthday of the great Italian director, Ruggero Deodato! And that, of course, means that it’s time for….
4 Shots From 4 Films
Live Like A Cop, Die Like A Man (1976, dir by Ruggero Deodato)
The House on The Edge of The Park (1980, dir by Ruggero Deodato)
Raiders of Atlantis (1983, dir by Ruggero Deodato)
119 years ago today, Gary Cooper was born in Helena, Montana.
Cooper was an actor who, for many viewers, represented the American ideal. He played characters who were strong and modest and who refused to compromise their principles. Though Gary Cooper appeared in many films over the course of his career, he is probably destined to be forever associated with High Noon. In this classic western, Cooper plays Will Kane, the marshal who finds himself abandoned by almost everyone when a group of killers come to town looking to kill him. The film is often seen as being a commentary on the 1950s Red Scare. Cooper, who was a committed anti-Communist and about as conservative as anyone in Hollywood, stood up for the film’s screenwriter, the blacklisted Carl Foreman and threatened to walk off the picture when it appeared that Foreman’s writing credit might be removed. That was what a huge part of Cooper’s appeal. He did the right thing, even if it meant standing up for someone with whom he didn’t agree. There aren’t many Gary Coopers left today, are there?
Below, we have the final scene of High Noon, in which the cowardly townspeople finally come to support Marshal Kane. Kane, disgusted by their actions, can only throw away his star and leave town. Even without dialogue, Cooper lets you know exactly what is going through Kane’s mind. It’s a great scene from a great film featuring a great actor.
Today is the 105th anniversary of the birth of the great Orson Welles. As those of you who have been reading us for a while know, Orson Welles is a bit of patron saint around here. With this year being the 10th anniversary of the creation of Through the Shattered Lens (and wow, what a year to celebrate that moment, right?), there was no way that we couldn’t pay tribute to Orson Welles on his birthday.
The scene below comes form the 1965 film, Chimes at Midnight. Based on several of Shakespeare’s history plays (Henry IV, Part 1 and Henry IV, Part 2, and also Richard II, Henry V, and The Merry Wives of Windsor), Chimes at Midnight was one of Welles’s dream projects. Though it was initially dismissed by critics, it has since been rediscovered and is now regularly cited as one of the greatest Shakespearean films of all time.
Welles not only directed this film but he also played the key role of Falstaff, the knight who loves good food, good drink, and low company. Falstaff acts as a mentor to Price Hal and, when Hal is finally ready to make his move and assume the throne of England as Henry V, Falstaff supports him. Falstaff believes that Hal will remember his friends once he is king. Sadly, Falstaff turns out to have been far too trusting.
In the poignant scene below, Falstaff greets the newly crowned King Henry V (played by Keith Baxter), just to be coldly rebuffed by his former friend. Now that Henry is king, he no longer has time for the loyal Falstaff. In Shakespeare’s time, this scene was probably meant to reflect that, now that he was king, Henry V was prepared to set aside childish games and devote himself to ruling England. Seen, today, it just comes across as being a betrayal of a good man who deserved better.
It’s a heart-breaking scene. Critic Danny Peary has speculated that, in this scene, Prince Hal/Henry V is a stand-in for every director who Welles mentored in Hollywood who later refused to help Welles when the latter was struggling to get his projects off the ground. Peary may be right because Welles was betrayed by quite a few people during his lifetime. As Welles himself put it, “They’ll love me when I’m dead,” and indeed, it wasn’t until after Welles was dead that his post-Citizen Kane work was truly appreciated.
There haven’t been many trailers to share, lately. That’s largely due to the uncertainty that’s surrounding COVID-19 and when — if ever — certain films are going to be able to get a theatrical release. That said, there is a new trailer out and I think that a lot of our readers are going to be interested in it.
So, without further ado….
Inmate #1 is a documentary about how all-around badass Danny Trejo went from being a convict to being a cultural icon. As anyone who has ever seen Trejo interviewed can tell you, he’s got an inspiring life story and he’s also a wonderful storyteller. I’m looking forward to seeing this documentary, which will be released in the United States on July 7th.
The Shock of the Future follows one day in the life of a composer named Ana (Alma Jodorowsky).
The year is 1978 and Ana is living in a studio in Paris. It’s not her studio. The owner is currently in India and no one knows when he’ll be returning. He’s lent it to Ana and she’s moved in. She shares the space with a truly impressive collection of synthesizer equipment. She swears, to everyone who stops by over the course of the day, that she can use the equipment to make wonderful music that will replace all of the dinosaur rockers who have outlived their usefulness. Some believe her. Some are skeptical.
Ana has been paid a good deal of money to write a commercial jingle but she has no interest in jingles, no matter how many times the sleazy ad guy (Phillippe Rebbot) drops by the studio and tries to intimidate her with his tough guy act. She doesn’t care about “50s rock” nor does she care about the “soft voices” of acoustic folk. Drummers, she says, are not necessary when she has a machine that can do the job. In fact, she doesn’t need a band at all! Rebbot is not particularly impressed and orders her to either write him a jingle or pay him back the money.
Throughout the day, more people drop by the apartment. Geoffrey Carey plays a friend who brings her the latest records from the UK. Teddy Melis shows up to deliver a piece of equipment and to smoke a joint. A singer (played by Clara Luciani) unexpectedly shows up and she and Ana bond over their mutual dislike of the sleazy men in the business and then proceed to work on a song together. It all leads to a party, in which Ana plays her new song for a dismissive producer who tells her that that “there’s something there” but it will never catch on. The producer is especially dismissive because the song’s lyrics are in English. “We are French!” he all but announces.
However, not all hope is lost. By the end of the film, we’ve been reminded that there actually is a world outside of Ana’s studio and that the future cannot be stopped….
The Shock of the Future is a deceptively simple film. Nearly the entire film takes place in one location and the majority of the action consists of people entering the studio, talking to Ana, and then eventually leaving. This is one of those films that I’m sure some people will watch and claim that there wasn’t enough of a story for the film to hold their interest. Of course, those people are wrong. The Shock of the Future is a film about the act of creation and anyone who creates for a living — whether they’re a composer like Ana or a writer like me or a photographer like my sister — will automatically be able to understand and relate to Ana’s story. If you’ve ever had someone dismiss your work by saying that it’s “too strange” or that it didn’t conform to whatever society’s current standards may be, you’ll relate to Ana. You will understand what she is going through and why she refuses to surrender to the condescending naysayers around her. All visionaries are initially dismissed by a world that’s not ready for them, by a world that’s not ready for the shock of the future. Alma Jodorowsky does a wonderful job in the role of Ana. There’s not a moment when she’s not onscreen and she’s compelling even when she’s just staring at her machines and waiting for inspiration to come.
The Shock of the Future is a tribute to the female pioneers of electronic music, the women who changed the direction of music and saved us from the tyranny of acoustic folk bullshit and who were often overlooked by future historians. The film ends with a dedication to the “women who pioneered in electronic music: Clara Rockmore, Wendy Carlos, Daphne Oram, Delia Derbyshire, Elaine Rodrigues, Laurie Spiegel, Susan Ciani, Johanna Beyer, Bebe Baran, Pauline Oliveiras, Else Marie Pade, Beatriz Ferrerya, et al.” Ana serves as a stand-in for all of them and also as a stand-in for every artist who had the courage to follow their own vision. In the end, Ana is one of us and we are all Ana.
4 Shots From 4 Films is just what it says it is, 4 shots from 4 of our favorite films. As opposed to the reviews and recaps that we usually post, 4 Shots From 4 Films lets the visuals do the talking!
Today, Lance Henriksen is 80 years old! In honor of this day, here are….
Also known as Pólvora en el corazón, Gunpowder Heart is a raw and angry film from Guatemala.
Set (and filmed in) Guatemala City, Gunpowder Heart tells the story of two girlfriends. Claudia (Andrea Henry) is the calmer of the two and works at a call center, where she says that she spends almost all of her time talking to “gringos.” Maria (Vanessa Hernandez) is the more emotional of the two. Whereas Claudia always seems to be holding back, Maria is in constant motion. She lives in a dilapidated house with her mother.
One night, when Claudia and Maria go to a local carnival, Maria reveals to Claudia that she’s carrying a gun for their protection. From what we’ve seen of Guatemala City, it seems like Maria has a point. The streets — or at least, the streets in the neighborhoods in which this film takes place — are filthy. The walls are covered in graffiti. The police who patrol those streets often appear to be more dangerous and menacing than the criminals from which they’re supposed to be providing protection. From the minute that we see Claudia riding her motorcycle through the streets of the city, there’s an ominous atmosphere of unease that just grows heavier and heavier as the film progresses.
However, Claudia does not want Maria to carry a gun and, when Maria isn’t looking, Claudia takes the gun and hides it from her. Later that night, as they leave the carnival, Maria and Claudia are attacked by three men who force the girls to strip and then sexually taunt and abuse them. It’s only the arrival of a clueless security guard that gives Claudia and Maria the chance to escape.
Angry that she didn’t have a weapon to protect herself, Maria manages to find the gun. Maria is determined to use that gun to get revenge. However, it turns out that getting revenge is not as easy as it may appear to be in the movies. Maria’s plan is a messy and disorganized one and Claudia finds herself torn between her desire for vengeance and her knowledge that there’s no way things are going to end well. Perhaps not surprisingly, it all leads to disaster and tragedy.
As I said at the start of this review, Gunpowder Heart is a raw and angry film, one that seems to be conflicted about whether or not to embrace Maria’s fury or to tolerate Claudia’s caution. (That’s a conflict that many in the audience will share as well.) Using the techniques of cinéma vérité, Gunpowder Heart put you right in the middle of Maria and Claudia’s shared existence. The camera never stops moving, perfectly mirroring not only the anxiety of their lives but also the anxiety of those of us watching the two of them. Throughout the film, Maria talks about leaving Guatemala. She says that she wants to go to Europe and then later to America. But, ultimately, there is no easy escape from the reality of what it means to be a woman (especially a woman who identifies as being queer) in a society controlled by violent and entitled men.
It’s a rough film and probably one that won’t appeal to everyone. By refusing to come down firmly on the side of either Maria or Claudia, the film will probably alienate those who like their films to have a clear cut point of view. As some reviewers have pointed out, we don’t learn much about who Maria and Claudia were before that night but I would argue that who they were before doesn’t matter. From the moment that they’re assaulted outside of the carnival, Maria and Claudia’s old life ends and their new one begins.
Blessed with two brave and outstanding lead performances from Andrea Henry and Vanessa Hernandez, Gunpowder Heart is a powerful and anxiety-filled film. It’s currently available to be viewed, for a limited time, on Prime.
Wow. I am really running behind! I nearly let this day come to an end without paying tribute to the amazing Audrey Hepburn. Hepburn was born 91 years ago, on May 4th, 1921 in Belgium. She went on to become one of history’s best actresses, as well as a role model for us all. It’s not every actress who could say that she was also an active member of the anti-Nazi Dutch resistance during World War II. After she became famous and could have very easily gotten away with turning her back on the world, Hepburn continued to make a name for herself as a humanitarian, working as Goodwill Ambassador for UNICEF.
In honor of her birthday, here’s a wonderfully acted scene from 1961’s Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Tonight, as I continued my viewing of all the SXSW films that are currently available on Prime, I watched three short documentaries. Each one of them dealt with real people seeking their own artistic truth.
Betye Saar: Taking Care of Business (dir by Christine Turner)
Betye Saar: Taking Care of Business is essentially an interview with the legendary artist Betye Saar, with some archival footage worked in and, of course, some footage of her artwork. It’s a simple format but that’s okay. It’s a fascinating documentary because Betye Saar is a fascinating artist. Saar has been creating art for over 70 years and, at the age of 93, she’s still working in her Los Angeles studio, creating works that can make people angry and that can make them think.
The film delves into Saar’s civil right activism and how, through her artwork, she has taken the stereotypical images that were once used to demean African-Americans and has weaponized them in the fight for equal rights. As we see in the documentary, one of Saar’s most acclaimed pieces features Aunt Jemima with a rifle and a grenade.
It’s a short documentary. Betye Saar is such a lively and outspoken subject that you find yourself wishing that the documentary was a bit longer. You also wish that the documentary had spent more time on the briefly mentioned “occult” influences on Saar’s work. Still, by the end of the film, you’re happy for the time that the filmmaker did have with Saar. She’s a fascinating artist.
Hiplet: Because We Can (dir by Addison Wright)
This likable 8 minute film is about the Hiplet Ballerinas. (Hiplet is a mix of classical ballet and hip hop. It’s pronounced Hip-lay.) Though there is a black-and-white sequence where the dancers talk about themselves and what hiplet means to them, the majority of the film is just made up of footage of the Hiplet Ballerinas performing. They are amazing dancers and exciting to watch. If you love dance, as I do, you’ll not only enjoy this documentary but you’ll also be excited about it. This is a documentary that reminds us that dance is for every one. As many of the dancers point out, they may not be stereotypical ballerinas but it doesn’t matter because stereotypes were made to be destroyed. As this documentary shows, dancing is beautiful and dancing is for all.
Quilt Fever (dir by Oliva Merrion)
Quilt Fever was a real surprise. This documentary deals with a subject (quilting) that I don’t know much about and it’s almost exclusively populated by people with whom I don’t have much in common but I still found it be enthralling and ultimately, rather touching.
Quilt Fever follows an annual quilting competition that takes place in the town of Paducah, Kentcuky. It’s known as the Academy Awards of Quilting and it attracts quilters from all over the country. The film not only shows us the competition but it also features profiles of a few of the people who are competing. As you might guess, they’re all a bit eccentric. For the most part, they’re all older women, the type of people who living in “fly over country” and who are usually looked down upon by the coastal elitists. They may not be celebrities but they’ve found fame in the quilting world and they’ve also found a welcoming (if competitive) community. Quilt Fever is an even-handed and nonjudgmental look at that community, one that never indulges in the type of condescension that we far too often see in documentaries about people in the middle of the country. It’s a sweet-natured documentary and definitely a treat to watch.
In the 13-minute documentary, Broken Orchestra, a camera glides through a deserted high school in Philadelphia, moving down hallways and up stairwells and occasionally entering into classrooms that are full of broken-down instruments. Throughout the high school, there are television sets and, on each television, a different persons talks about being a part of the Broken Orchestra.
At a time when the schools of Philadelphia (which, we’re told, is the poorest big city in America) were struggling, budget cuts were leading to the cancellation of music programs. Those programs that managed to survive often had to make due with damaged instruments. Because students were having to use damaged tools, they often couldn’t play the type of music that they wanted create.
When a huge amount of damaged instruments were found in an abandoned high school, the Broken Orchestra was born. The all-volunteer orchestra played on those instruments and proved that even a damaged instrument could be used to make unique music and, in much the same way, greatness can even come out of a damaged school or a damaged city. Even a damaged instrument still has something to say. Even a damaged instrument is still worth listening to.
It’s certainly in inspiring story and one that also makes a good argument for funding music and other artistic programs. Everyone who discusses their part in the Broken Orchestra was obviously touched by the experience and it’s impossible not to get swept up in their emotions. If I do have a complaint, it’s that I wish we had heard a bit more of the orchestra but still, it’s an inspiring story.
Through the Shattered Lens 