24 Frames: Europa Film Treasures

This is a great little site that is perfect for the cineaste in all of us.

Click on the image to visit:

You can discover a treasure trove of short films from various decades and countries as well as test your knowledge, or gain some.

Well worth checking out.

24 Frames: Black and Whitezation

Recently two movies have been released with a new bent on realization.


The first was Frank Darabont's The Mist (2007) which was released over the Thanksgiving weekend and quickly disappeared. Then came the DVD release which offered a two disk special edition with an alternate version in black and white. This is a curious and new approach. Apparently Darabont originally wanted to make the movie in b&w, but the studios refused. See, he wanted it to be like those great matinee horror and sci-fi films of the 50's. It's an interesting idea and Darabont got his wish with the DVD release. This of course makes it even more interesting for the cinephile who would like to see this alternate version and see if it improves the film.

Now I didn't like The Mist the first time I saw it. It was a late show and was packed with a bunch of drunk teens who made tons of noise and talked on cell phones the entire time. Really, you spend ten bucks on a movie and talk on the phone the entire time? Officially, you're an idiot. Anyway, the audience had a major impact on my movie going experience so I was not thrilled with the film.

When the DVD was released with this b&w Director's Cut, I was intrigued and decided to check it out. I'm glad I did, but not for the reasons you might think. I watched the new version and I must say, I was disappointed. Even with the aid of computer technology, you can time something to look black and white, the film itself wasn't shot for the look. Costumes, production design and visual effects were designed for a color film and it doesn't mesh very well when transferring over. Scenes were too dark and details would be lost. At times it just looked muddled.

The Mist (2007)

Plus all of the handheld camera work didn't feel right when used with the format. The older films that Darabont wanted to imitate never used this type of style so the entire experiment feels unfocused. But it did make me re-watch the color version and I discovered that it is quite an enjoyable little horror film with some standout performances. The visual style also works incredibly well in color and I found myself really engrossed. The idea of presenting it in black and white may have been unsuccessful, but it does help a person appreciate the original.

Then this past week Peter Bogdanovich released a movie that he also originally intended to release as a black and white movie. Nickelodeon (1976) was Bogdanovich's homage to the silent film era, a slapstick comedy about those pioneers of the silver screen. It stars Burt Reynolds, Ryan O'Neal, John Ritter, Stella Stevens and Tatum O'Neal.

Apparently this ran into the same problem as The Mist and the studio felt shooting in color would be beneficial to the film. Odd since Bogdanovich had already had two very successful b&w films prior to this one, The Last Picture Show (1971) and Paper Moon (1973). It could be Bogdanovich rewriting history by saying the studio wouldn't let him, but it really doesn't matter because the move to black and white actually helps this film quite a bit.

Nickelodeon (1976)

Some of the initial reviews were that it was a little old fashioned and slapsticky. Which is dead on because it's designed to be that way. It's supposed to reflect all those old comedies that Bogdanovich adores so much. The entire project is mannered and some of the humor seems goofy when you witness it in color.

This time though because the film itself is a period piece, all of the costumes and sets were designed with a bent towards b&w and shots are designed to reflect an older visual style. According to Bogdanovich's commentary track, cinematographer Lazlo Kovacs even styled some of the lighting after old b&w movies. All of these factors add up to make it feel like you're watching a different film. Scenes of slapstick have a different energy and feel more natural and less gimmicky. This is most apparent in a bakery scene where Reynolds keeps hitting a guy with an oven board.

Even though only one of these movies seems successful though its de-colorization, it is a great way to show that black and white is an esthetic choice that is underused and under appreciated these days.

24 Frames: Breathless

I have a friend who is not a fan of Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless (1960). He doesn't see what the point is. He describes it as a jumbled-up bunch of pieces that want to be a great movie. I tell him that's the very reason that Breathless is a a great movie. He usually waves me off and calls me pretentious.

First, yes I can be pretentious. Second, my snobbishness has nothing to do with why Breathless is a great movie. There are a ton of reasons why it is so enjoyable. Like the way Jean Seberg walks down the middle of the road pivoting on the balls of her feet, selling the New York Herald Tribune. Or Jean-Paul Belmondo dangling a cigarette and tipping his fedora trying to imitate Bogart. The fact that it's not Belmondo imitating Bogart, but his character Michel wanting to be a Bogart character, adding another level to the whole thing. The amazing 360° shot in the bank when Seberg is being questioned by the cops. The jump cuts, locations, sound design, Melville cameo, just the whole damn thing.













It was, is and shall always be, a barometer of hipness. It broke so many rules and spoke in a cinematic language so pure that nothing has been able to touch it since. Truffaut, Chabrol and Bazin may have helped lay the corner stones and the rebar, but it was Breathless that provided the concrete for the foundation of modern filmmaking.

It freed up not only the way movies could be made, but the way we watched them. Godard's dedicating the movie to Monogram Studios helped open the doors in what we could consider a classic. Cinematic art didn't have to be about how much money was put into it or who the stars were. It was about the end results and what was trying to be accomplished. A low budget movie could have just as much if not more to say than it's big budget counterparts. It opened up realms of possibilities and brought filmmaking to the streets. This is what Breathless represented and still represents. It's what Godard passed on to us from what he had learned from all of those small American b-movies. Anyone can do it and anyone should if they have something to say.

All pretentious pontification aside, what it all boils down to is a film that is entertaining. It's a fun ride even though you're following the adventures of an out-of-touch-wanna-be-gangster. Love, betrayal, murder, sex, joy, literature and cinema. It's a movie that is as modern today as it was when it first flickered to life on movie screens almost fifty years ago. Believe that it's archaic, or think that it is a minor note in a much bigger symphony. Give it another watch and maybe you'll come to see it as I do. It's a pitch perfect crystal clear aria. An ode to cinema that speaks volumes in one simple jump cut.

24 Frames: Inspiration

Filmmakers find all kinds of inspiration from other visual mediums. Most recently I noticed a shot in the new Michael Mann film Public Enemies (2009) that drew from a photographic source.

First, from the film:

Now here is a photo by Bill Brandt, a 20th century British photographer who took this photo, Belgravia in 1951:

For those of you out there who are literal, the word being used here is Inspiration not Replication. It is the source from where new ideas are formed not copied.

One of the more famous inspirations is René Magritte's L'Empire des Lumières used as the source for a shot in The Exorcist (1973):

You'll notice the location of the lit windows in both as well as the lamp posts dead center placement. I don't think that Magritte intended to give off the feeling of evil, but the midnight foliage against the midday sky does create a bit of an ominous feeling.

The one that seems to be used quite often is Michelangelo's Pietà which has been incorporated into many death scenes, mostly gangster films. Here is an example from Raoul Walsh's The Roaring Twenties (1939).


These are, of course, just visual examples. Film is "The" great art form because it draws inspiration from every art from that came before it and incorporates every art form that has followed. It is always in evolutionary flux, attempting to reveal just a little bit more of the human condition and in response, inspires more people to create. It's Homer Simpson's Doughnut Shaped Universe Theory come to life. Now with extra sprinkles.

24 Frames: Nazi Chic

It appears that the Nazi is the flavor of the month. Not that it is box office gold, but there seems to be a trend towards utilizing the superior race in recent months. It seems our goose stepping haters are becoming even more overexposed than zombies, which is tough to do.

First the Obvious:

Valkyrie: A flick that hosts a bevy of der Führer's boys traipsing around secretly to try and kill the boss. Tom Cruise stretches himself by wearing an eye-patch.

The Reader: Ralph Fiennes discovers that when he was a fifteen year old boy sleeping with Kate Winslet, that she was actually a Nazi. Personally, I don't care if Kate Winslet is a top Al Qaeda agent. If I get the chance, I'm sleeping with her.

Defiance: Jews strike back in this true story about three Jewish brothers who build tree forts in the forest and protect the tribe from Nazis and Russians. This is a pretty unremarkable film with lots of talent.

Lesser Known:

Good: Viggo Mortensen twiddles his thumbs and may have to betray a Jewish friend when he is cajoled into joining the party. Viggo actually looks pretty good in the uniform. Gulp!

Adam Resurrected: Jeff Goldblum gives a tour de force performance as he degrades himself to survive the concentration camps by becoming Commandant Willem Dafoe's pet. Dafoe could actually pull off the toothbrush mustache had he chosen to.

The Boy In The Striped Pajamas: Two boys on opposite sides befriend each other and party members say they had no idea what the camps were for. David Thewlis plays Nazi daddy.

WTF!

The Spirit: For no reason what-so-ever, there is a scene with Sam Jackson dressed like a nazi. We unfortunately do not get a line of dialog declaring, " I have had it with these mutha fuckin' Jews on this mutha fuckin' plane." Then again he might, anyone who saw the film can tell me. If anyone saw the film.


The future is holding even more Nazi's for us. Quentin Tarantino will be shooting at them with his Inglorious Basterds and there is a Nazi Zombie called Dead Snow coming from Norway. A movie I couldn't care less about... Unless Kate Winslet is cast in it.

24 Frames: Australian New Wave

The beauty of studying film is that there is always something new that came out of something old. The Australian New Wave is something that I recently discovered and I've actually unwittingly seen several movies from this movement. I even own some. Let's take a look t it, shall we?

Unlike the French New Wave which was spawned from a bunch of upstarts revolting against the film policy of the time, the folks down under just started making a group of movies that gained notoriety and popularity around the world. This popularity laster from around 1971 to approximately 1989 and included films that reached from the low to the high brow.

There are very few popular film movements that include a range of topics like The Year Of Living Dangerously, Breaker Morant, Razorback, The Road Warrior, My Brilliant Career and BMX Bandits. If that doesn't cover a rainbow of wackiness, I'm not sure what would.

The more pop culture loving entertainment crowd pleasers have recently been giving the label Ozploitation from a new documentary called Not Quite Hollywood. It takes a look at the low budget high octane exploitation movies of the era. These films include the Mad Max trilogy (as well as several other car movies), sexploitation, kung fu and lots of blood n' gore. Sound pretty terrific right?

Yes it is only putting a name to a period of time in a country's film industry, but it is exciting because it allows a framework of study. It's like offering a syllabus of movies to watch and try to understand the connection. I saw The Year Of Living Dangerously and Razorback as a kid, but I'd never consider that there was any sort of connection. Now I know there is. A period of time in a county's industry where business politics and ideas as well as audience understanding allowed both of these films to emerge from the same kettle.

Mel Gibson, Nicole Kidman, George Miller, Peter Weir, Bruce Beresford, Sam Neill, Judy Davis, Phillip Noyce and Bryan Brown all emerged during this period of time. That is an amazing list of talent that have also made some great films in the United States. WOuld they have become as well known without the popularity of that movement? Who knows.

But...

There is one down side and I don't believe that any other country can claim to have damaged movies as much as the Aussies have. It is during this era that they gave us Paul Hogan and Yahoo Serious.

We are still awaiting an apology.

24 Frames: Never To Be Seen

There are a ton of movies out there that just never get made. Some of them are stuff of legend; some are just passing glimpses of what’s going on in Hollywood’s head. In today’s internet age, rumors and speculation run rampant. Anytime an executive farts, some site picks it up and tells us it’s going to be next summers big budget blockbuster starring Shia LaBeouf.

But there have been those that have been passed down over the years and become part of the film geek mythos. These are movies that have been made but will never (or rarely) be seen, and those that stepped into the rainbow somewhere along the script stage. Now I’m not talking about small potato movies either, I’m talking about the big stuff.

The biggest happens to also deal with the smallest, or more on point the shortest. Napoleon: written, but never directed by Stanley Kubrick. This was to be a giant movie. Kubrick being the perfectionist that he was researched every book and wrote what geekdom has considered the greatest epic never made. The film was ready to roll in Romania with five thousand extras it would have been a massive undertaking. He was rolling off of the success of 2001, so anything seemed possible.

Then came Waterloo. It starred Rod Steiger as Napoleon and to be honest, I have no idea if it is any good or not, I’ve never seen it. But it bombed at the box office and that sent a message to the financing folks behind Kubrick’s film that Napoleon had no chance for profit. So they pulled out and the film never happened. This was a supposed hit for Kubrick who had a fascination with the military leader for years and had developed and constructed the script with an incredible passion.

Another cinematic master who was never able to get his vision up on the screen was Alfred Hitchcock, but unlike Kubrick it would be for very different reasons.

Kaleidoscope was rejected by Universal because of Hitchcock’s radical visual ideas as well as the content. This was in the mid-sixties and he was hailed a master again after releasing Psycho and The Birds. His idea for Kaleidoscope was to shoot it in a verite style thanks to the success of the French New Wave and he wanted to try some very experimental stylistic choices. He has even shot about an hour of experimental footage to show what he was going to go for.

Well, that caused some nervousness at the studio, but it was the script that really flipped their wigs. It was to be told from the point of view of an attractive young man who is a serial killer, gay, oh and a rapist. The script also included nudity. For evident reasons the studio said nope. Years of reworking and moving back to England, Hitchcock was able to release a version that we know today as Frenzy. There is a geek myth that the experimental footage that was shot is occasionally screened to audiences. I can neither confirm nor deny.

Now I’m going to wrap it up by mentioning a film that has been made, completed and has never seen the light of day. Rumor is that it’s for the best.

The Day The Clown Cried was a passion projects for Jerry Lewis. Shot in 1972, the central storyline is about a circus clown (Lewis) who becomes a political prisoner in Nazi Germany and eventually starts clowning for the Jewish children to lead them to the gas chambers at Auschwitz. Sounds like a hoot, right?

Lewis refuses to discuss the film to this day and it has gained the reputation of being tasteless and insulting. Harry Shearer attended a private screening in 1979 and reported that is was one of the most "misplaced" films he’d ever seen. "For everything it was attempting to do, it did just the opposite." Ouch.

Hearing about films like these makes me wonder what the cinematic landscape would be like today if they had made it into theaters. Would Kubrick have made A Clockwork Orange or Barry Lyndon if Napoleon had been green lit? Would Hitchcock be looked at with a different eye today if he’d completed Kaleidoscope? Would Jerry Lewis have any remaining self-respect? We’ll never really know, but it’s fun to think about.

24 Frames: 4 Non-Comic Movies

I’ve been starting article after article and not being able to finish any of them. So what do I do? I can sit around and wait until some great idea (or mediocre idea that I think is great) hits me, or I can just push through it and give you something. So I’m giving you something.



A Couple weeks ago Tremendo gave you three great comic book movies that weren’t based off of comic books. I had a flash of a few more and was going to save it for the release of The Dark Knight, but instead I’ll drop some sizzle into you life now and hope that something a little more mind blowingly fun comes to my mind next week. So here are three more non-comic book (but could be) movies to move to the top of the queue.

BUCKAROO BANZAI: ACROSS THE EIGHTH DIMENSION
(1984)

If ever a film screamed for a franchise this one was it. Brilliant scientist, rock star and crime fighter Buckaroo Banzai take on a group of bad guys called Lectroids from Planet 10 located in the eighth dimension. Joined by his band and fellow scientists the Hong Kong Kavaliers, they devise a plan to defeat the Lectroids and save the planet from destruction. The whole plot is a lot more complicates and wackier than that, but this thing is a cult gem through and through. With wild characters, situations and insane plot points, Buckaroo and his gang could easily have stepped right of the comic page. It is easy to visualize further adventures against numerous super villains and supernatural phenomenon alike. There have even been a couple attempts to make further adventures as both a television show, which was never made; as well as a small comic run that missed the mark. No one has ever been able to find that magic elixir that would bring Buckaroo to the mainstream and bring him the legions of fans he richly deserves, but the film we have is a wholly original and classic piece of cult fiction.


MR. FREEDOM
(1969)

Eclipse has recently released a collection of a filmmaker named William Klein and among them is a super hero movie. This film uses the super hero to bash everything that is wrong with America. It has a really low budget, but unique visual style and an overt message about how Americans are all pretty much big, rude and crude know-it-all's who understand what’s best for the world at large. Mr. Freedom runs around in a big red whit and blue costume, but his alter ego struts around in a cowboy hat spitting on all the foreigners around him. Of course this is all in the name of freedom. It can get a little convoluted at times and so in your face with it’s spot on humorous message that you feel like you’ve been hit over the head with our own jingoistic bat. But I like it because it actually seems to have a bit of a timely message. Plus however heavy handed the message may be at least there is a message and that sting you feel is the knowledge that he got it a little bit right.


CITY OF LOST CHILDREN
(1995)

A movie that has it all! A circus strong man is in search of his kidnapped brother. A brave young heroine who is the best thing since Alice stepped into the looking glass. A mad scientist needs to steal dreams to stay alive. Cyclops soldiers, Siamese twins, clones, a sentient brain in a vat! French film making team Jeunet and Caro blew people away with their debut film Delicatessen, then they threw in everything but the kitchen sink for this follow up. An entire world is created with fleshed out characters in every mildew-encrusted shadow. Ron Perlman gives a great sympathetic performance as the not so bright strong man who enlists the aid of Miette a whip smart orphan/thief to help locate the kidnapped child. With production design and a visual flair that could fill several movies, this would be the last film the Jeunet and Caro team would make together. But we have two great movies to enjoy from them; brimming with originality from whatever direction you approach it.

BONUS: I thought of another one while writing this.


DARK CITY
(1998)

Alex Proyas followed up his very comic book based movie The Crow with this impressive piece if science fiction that delves into memory, reality and what it means to be a human being. Released then quickly disappeared in theaters, Dark City uses the classic noir trope of an amnesiac and possible serial killer trying to figure out who he is. The real twist being he and everyone else are just rats in a maze as an alien life form changes the physical dynamics of the city and the people. A brilliant combination of mystery and philosophy this film covers a lot of the same ground as The Matrix without ever getting heavy handed. It was Roger Ebert’s favorite film of 1998 and draws some very interesting parallels with the classic Fritz Lang silent film Metropolis.


Hey, Metropolis is another great one, but I’ve already gone on too long. Check out any of these. One of them will surely strike your fancy.

24 Frames: The Asian Invasion

I find it interesting that popular Eastern Asian cinema has rolled from country to country over time. I mean this as a saucer eyed American looking at the trends that tend to become popular here.


Growing up I was aware of chop-socky flicks because I’d watch badly dubbed and edited versions on channel five as a kid. I’d also watch recut versions of anime like Starblazers, Spacekateers, Speed Racer and other such stuff. Then 1991 came along and changed everything. That’s when Hong Kong invaded America.

John Woo, Jackie Chan and Jet Li films started traveling around the country in Asian film festivals. One of these happened to hit Tucson Arizona and I ended up going to a bunch of them. I’d be introduced to names like Chow Yun-Fat, Samo Hung and Simon Yam. I’d witness acrobatic feats, bullet ballets and wire-fu fantasy. It was a crazy time to be a film student and have this entire world of cinema open your eyes. I would gobble down these films like Marlon Brando with a case of Big Macs. It soon caught on in the popular culture and Hong Kong movies were the flavor of the week. America would start importing these filmmakers and actors to try and boost our now boring action films. But that couldn’t last forever.

Anime was the next thing, so we moved from China to Japan, where it would go through two different transformations. First, anime would hit hard and all the middle school kids would start munching on Evangelion and Trigun. The youngsters got their Poke-Mon and the hipsters (I say that only to qualify myself as hip, which I’m not) would grab onto Cowboy Be-Bop and proclaim we saw Ghost in the Shell and Akira in the theaters (which I did) years before any of this caught on.


Then came the J-Horror movement. Films like The Grudge, Ringu, Audition, and Cure would frighten us all because it played by very different rules than American horror and we just thought it was great. I include the works of Takashi Miike and Kiyoshi Kurosawa among these, even though they do not fit nicely into the J-Horror category. Kurosawa (no relation to Akira) has made several films that delve deeply into the psychology of human behavior, while Miike puts out disturbing (grotesque) metaphysical/metaphorical flicks on a regular basis. The popularity of J-horror would lead to several American remakes that, as far as I can tell, have pretty much burned itself out even though they keep trying

During all of this, companies like Manga, Toyko Shock and (now deceased)Tartan released not only the most popular of these on DVD, but anything that might catch on. Amongst the Direct to video onslaught it became clearer and clearer that the latest and greatest seems to be coming out of Korea.

It started with Shiri (1999), which starred Lost’s Yunjin Kim as a hit woman. Then came the glory that is Chan-wook Park. His Vengeance Trilogy would knock the socks off of geeks everywhere. He was recognized at the Cannes Film Festival for his film Oldboy (2003). Tarantino was the jury president that year, so it only makes sense that ultra-violent art would be duly recognized. Plans had gone into an American remake starring Nicholas Cage that thankfully fell through. And now we have a new film from Korea called The Chaser (2007). It deals with lazy cops, a serial killer and some macabre humor. It is the latest offering to blow away box office records in its homeland and is already in line for a remake in the United States.

Now, none of the other movements have gone away. Anime is still strong. Takashi Miike puts out a new movie every other month and Johnny To is showing that Hong Kong still knows where the action is. It just happens to be Korea’s moment in the cinematic spotlight. Things will shift again. I have a feeling that with the return of John Woo to China and Johnny To’s amazing films of late that we’ll be hearing something from behind the great wall. Then again we are seeing more and more from Taiwan and who knows what is going on in Laos, Micronesia or Vietnam’s movie world. They could be quietly taking position for the next cinematic invasion.

24 Frames: Le Prince of the City

Gather round kiddies. Get a juice box, settle in, and uncle Santo is going to tell you a story. Comfy? Good, lets get started.

Now, a long time ago in a far-off land called France, there was a man named Louis Le Prince. Le Prince was a magic man. He created a machine that could capture images on film and then make them magically reappear and move across a screen. Some people were amazed, some were jealous, and some couldn’t have cared less. One day Le Prince packed up his magic machine, kissed his wife and children goodbye, and boarded a train. He was embarking on a journey to show off his machine in New York, the city that never sleeps. But when the train arrived in Paris, Le Prince became part of another magic trick: both him and his machine magically disappeared and were never heard from again.

Now isn’t that a fun story boys and girls? And it’s true.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I’m about to lay a conspiracy theory on you. I’ll start off by saying I’m not a conspiracy buff. Other than the fact that our government knows about UFO’s, the Loch Ness monster is responsible for 9/11, and Oswald didn’t act alone, I am a firm believer that conspiracy theories are a bunch of pig plop.

So let’s go back and look at our children’s story a little more closely.

In 1888, Louis Le Prince invented a device that was both a motion picture camera and projector. He was granted a US patent on this device, which consisted of 16 lenses (I have no idea why he needed so many). He eventually refined his machine down to one lens, but was not allowed a US patent. Hmmmm… Le Prince decided to fight back by taking a PR trip, hitting Paris, London, and New York. He’d get the word out, let the world know that he’d created the first motion picture. So in September of 1890, he said au revoir to the family and boarded his train. Then it was bye-bye Louis.

Now, the most commonly accepted theory regarding the disappearance of Le Prince, and the one I believe, is as follows: that p*ick Edision had him whacked! See, Thomas Edison was working on creating the same thing around the same time. He was even able to get an American patent on a single lens camera the same year that Le Prince disappeared. Isn’t that a coincidence? To further arouse suspicion, when the Le Prince family was involved in a lawsuit against Edison to annul his claims of inventing the moving picture camera, Adolphe Le Prince was found dead a couple days before he was set to testify. It was ruled a suicide. Very convenient.

It was well known that “Honest Tommy” (my own affectionate nickname) would take the credit for several inventions that he didn’t create. And he was a bit of a tyrant when it came to his business dealings. Edison could easily afford to pay a couple guys to make sure LePrince slept with the fishes.

Edison couldn’t come right out with projected films, could he? Nope. Much like the government doling out alien technology, he had to do it slowly to make it look like his own invention. Edison came out first with what was called the Kinetoscope, the video iPod of its day. That is, if the video iPod stood three feet high, weighed a couple hundred pounds, and you had to look through a viewer while turning a crank to watch a ballerina dance on a loop for 30 seconds at a time.

Of course “Honest Tommy” wasn’t the only kid on the block working on moving pictures. The first projected showing of a movie would not happen until 1895 (seven years after Le Prince) by a couple of other French guys, the Lumiere brothers. I guess they had all the documentation to back up their work, so they’ve never been implicated into the disappearance of Le Prince. Edison would quickly roll out his version of a projector and the film industry was born.

As for Le Prince, he has basically become a footnote of film lore and fun story to tell around a geeky campfire. Would there be a very different industry today if he hadn’t disappeared? It’s always hard to say. Le Prince’s place in cinema history is rarely acknowledged. Then again, this could just be another one of those crazy conspiracies cooked up by the Oculus Dai to keep us from discovering

24 Frames: The First Film Geek

It wasn’t until the French started going off about movies being “art” and not just entertainment that people began looking at movies with a different eye. It was the magazine Cahiers du Cinema that got the ball rolling. The people who started the magazine were all regular filmgoers of the Cinematheque Francaise, where they learned to love movies. In large part, the Cinematheque was due to one man whom I consider the first film geek on record: Henri Langlois. He was a movie junkie. ‘Watching’ movies would be an understatement. Langlois consumed them. They were his reason for existence.


Langlois’ love of film, and his personal collection, began before the Second World War. When the German occupation kicked in, he smuggled and hid movies that the Nazis were going to destroy. Langlois was cinema’s resistance. Hiding films in basements and bathtubs (which probably explains his hygiene), he would often smuggle them in baby carriages. I know, Langlois was not saving lives, but he was saving culture, and a society without its culture is like a cake without frosting: no taste.

When the war had passed, Langlois would help create the Cinematheque Francaise and become its head programmer. His film lineup would be eclectic and his liner notes would help draw connections in films where the average viewer would find nothing in common. Patrons of the Cinematheque would turn into the filmmakers responsible for the French New Wave. This cinematic movement would throw away the classic rules of cinema and define new ones. It carried such a profound impact that American movies would alter their stride. The French New Wave changed the way we watch movies.

Now, Langlois did more than just show movies. Like any geek, he was obsessed with the minutiae. Langlois collected everything from costumes and production photos to pieces of sets and scripts with notes. Nothing was too small or arbitrary to him. All of the stuff that movie geeks hunt down today on eBay, Langlois was collecting in the 1940s. Now that’s f*king geeky.

Langlois had become a hero of movie lovers and filmmakers around the world, when, in 1968, the French Culture Minister fired him. Much like the revolutionary spirit that had engulfed most of the world at the time, protests and marches were held demanding Langlois be reinstated. Letters were sent from filmmakers like Alfred Hitchcock and Federico Fellini, as well as from all of those cinematic children that Langlois had spawned. It worked, but the Cinematheque’s funding was diminished and Langlois’ health would slowly begin to deteriorate from the long-fought battle.

Now I’m going to digress from the love of movies for a moment and delve into a personal issue that, I feel, really helps define the (mostly true) stereotype of the film geek: Langlois rarely got laid. Yep, he had an incredibly sad sex life. But it’s not like the guy didn’t have his chances. Langlois had met a woman by the name of Mary Meerson. She was the widow of a production designer and was tracked down by Langlois so he could obtain some of her late husband’s works. An incredible friendship was created, because her appetite for movies was just as insatiable as his. They built a relationship so strong you’d think it would’ve evolved into something romantic. Nope. Langlois even lived with her for many years, but he claimed nothing physical ever happened. The rumor was that Meerson desperately loved her pear-shaped film geek counterpart, but nothing ever became of it. He was all about the movies. Now, for most of us geeks it’s not that we’d ignore the opportunity for sex (far from it, trust me), but it does seem that we have developed a lust that, like Langlois’, can only be quenched by cinema.


So if you go to a movie and see that small group of people who are quoting esoteric lines from other movies or debating the career path of the director of the film you’re about to see, you’ve stumbled upon a pod of geeks. They aren’t dangerous or harmful; as a matter of fact they can be quite lovable (yes, I’m describing myself here). Film geeks have a long and honorable lineage that started with Henri Langlois, their under appreciated godhead.

Now here’s a tip: the next time you see some guy pontificating about film, sneak in a line that says, “Well, aren’t you the new Henri Langlois?” If he has no idea who you’re talking about, walk away. As a matter of fact, throw a drink in his face for me and then walk away. If he responds with that “You know who Langlois is?” look of shock, then you’ve found yourself a true film geek. And you probably just made his day.

24 Frames: Who's Watching Who?

I’m the art snob of the bunch, I’m more than happy to admit it. I do believe that movies are allowed, actually duty bound, to be more than entertaining at times. Don’t get me wrong I love plain old entertainment. I love movies like Sin City, Die Hard, Big Trouble In Little China as much as I enjoy taking a 4am run to In-N-Out burger. But I also love Elephant, Breathless, The Station Agent just as much if not more.

Why?

There is a British filmmaker named Peter Greenaway. He has made some incredible films and some pieces of junk. His most infamous work is The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover. It’s visually stunning, grotesque, decadent, horrific and funny. The first time I saw it I was so uncomfortable after the first scene, I wondered if I would make it through the entire movie. So why did I stay? Because the film was asking me to do more than just sit back and watch. It was asking me to be a participant on an emotional level. It tested who I was as a person and made me question what it is that I believe is right and wrong. Where was my moral line and how far was I willing to cross it? He was challenging me to look at the world from a different perspective.

I bring up Greenaway because he said something once that really struck me and has always been a go-to line when discussing my stance on film. He said, “There was a time when people watched movies, now movies watch people.” I’ll be the snob here and say: take a minute. Read that out loud. Let it roll around in the skull and marinade.

All right, what does it mean? It means that there was a time when movies were self-contained beings, not homogenized, gentrified, tested, and target-audienced to within an inch of its life. Movies could address topics that might be difficult to bring up. They could have characters that may not be the most likable or acceptable. They could play with plot, theme, structure, editing, and visual style. These are the elements that make up what is called the ‘language of film’. Now most popular movies require no thought process. They have turned us into sheep. Don’t get angry, I can prove it.

National Treasure. Pick one, it doesn’t matter. Justin Bartha plays Riley, the tech nerd/wacky sidekick to Nicholas Cage. I saw these movies in the theater on a day when the audience was around half capacity. Now at several moments during both of these movies, the sidekick responds with a one-liner to a situation. One of these lines was, “Who wants to go down the creepy tunnel inside the tomb first?” A majority of the audience cracked up. Is this line funny? Does it have any creativity to it? No, no it doesn’t. Oh, and was it in the trailer that was playing on television twenty-four seven? Yes, yes it was. The audience laughs because we have been trained over the years to laugh at any little shtick the sidekick spouts. Think about it. Think about all of the sidekicks over the years that have been played by talented comics or character actors who were given creative dialog. Take the line from Aliens when Hudson (Bill Paxton) whales, “That's it man, game over man, game over!” How ever ridiculous it seems now, the first time hearing it we laughed because it was spontaneous and brought out a moment that actually helped build the character a little bit. A very little bit, but a little bit nonetheless.

Today you’ll also find that most commercial films are about branding. Any title or name recognition will do the trick. Let’s face it, we all saw the trilogy based off of the Disneyland ride. (Yes, I enjoyed The Country Bears as much as you did.) Much like the characters we have been trained to respond to, we’ve been trained to respond to branding, good or bad. The film industry, I mean studio executives here, could end up spending a couple hundred million on a movie and they want to make sure it’s something that everyone already knows about. They want to see big returns for their big investment. They want to target kids and the parents’ nostalgia gland. So whip out a Transformers or a G.I. Joe. You’re guaranteed a big opening weekend. You’re guaranteed we’ll all "ooooh and ahhh" as the car turns into a giant robot because it reminds us of how cool it was to play with those toys when we were younger. We’ll cheer when Megatron gets smashed or a building crumbles under the weight of two tons of sentient metal crashing into it.

Now I can name a ton of films out there that are smarter, that don’t tow the corporate line. Some of them find an audience (look at Juno) but most slip through the cracks. I’m not saying they are better films, some of them suck, like really suck. But these films attempt to reach us from a different perspective. They ask us to challenge ourselves, to connect and try to understand what is going on instead of ringing a bell so we start to salivate.

We can’t stop the machine; I’m not inciting revolution. That would be naive. Just do one thing for the hell of it. We’ll call it a social experiment to make us sound smart. The next time your out at a big ol’ blockbuster popcorn movie, take three to five minutes during a dialog scene where there is some comic relief. Separate yourself from the movie and just feel what’s going on in the audience. When they laugh at something, was it earned, or was it a trained response? Was the movie watching you at that moment, or am I just talking out of my ass? It wouldn’t be the first time.