When it comes to civil rights cinema, most of the attention has historically gone down south, where the fight for equality was its most dangerous. John Waters’ Hairspray is a sobering reminder that while things maybe not have been as violent in the north, there has always been just as much struggle to end segregation and work towards a more just future.
A few months ago, I noticed the 2022 FX show Pistol floating around Amazon Prime. I love punk and Danny Boyle (he directed every episode), so naturally I enjoyed it. Adapted primarily from guitarist Steve Jones’ autobiography, the show was criticized for falling into typical biopic pitfalls, overexplaining and simplifying events. Regardless, I loved the performances, the tone, and the frenetic sound and visual style of the show. It’s everything I could want in a Sex Pistols biopic.
Sid and Nancy is everything I don’t want in a Sex Pistols biopic.
It’s always striking to see a film that holds up so well in terms of content and yet is so tied to its time period in terms of aesthetics. I’m hesitant to use the word “dated”, because I think a film like Working Girls is aiming to portray an authentic version of its own reality, even if that reality feels unmistakably born of the 1980s. But the guiding philosophy of Working Girls seems to be that “sex work is work”, a phrase I only remember popping up in the public consciousness in the last decade or so. So to see a film that portrays sex work in terms of labor and workplace politics feels pretty remarkable, even if the hair, make-up, and name brands used in the film feel like relics of the Reagan years.
“There’s nothing I despise more than being entertained.” This is a quote John Cassavetes told scholar and author Ray Carney, later published in Carney’s 2001 book Cassavetes on Cassavetes. John Cassavetes didn’t make films to transport us. He made films to turn the mirror on ourselves, showing us the grit and drama of relationships, success, failure, and violence.
Aw man, I was so excited to finally check out Bob Fosse’s next biggest movie (as a director) nearly a decade after doing All That Jazz until today, when I finally had to sit down and watch it. That’s because I realized I didn’t account for two things: 1) writing about biopics is incredibly boring and 2) The Odyssey came out this weekend and it rules and kinda all I wanna do now is read about The Sea Peoples. But worry not friend, Lenny was more than interesting enough to have really woken me up and grabbed my attention against those perilous odds. I mean, what did I expect? It’s Bob Fosse.
Last year, I dedicated an entire Criterion Month to “Horny Movies.” I reviewed films like Luis Buñuel’s Belle de Jour, Nagisa Ōshima’s In the Realm of the Senses, and Louis Malle’s The Lovers. I had a blast exploring not just sexuality in cinema, but how different countries and different eras portrayed it. So when I heard Malle had another “horny” movie in the Criterion Collection, I immediately added it to my list. I just wish I’d known the sexuality in Murmur of the Heart was centered around a teenage boy… and his mom.
As I watched the Mariners absolutely shit the bed to begin the second half of the MLB season tonight, I couldn’t help but think of the main takeaway I had from rewatching Five Easy Pieces last night: expectations are a bitch. Now I didn’t remember this movie that well – it has been a decade since the first and only other time I saw it – I’m pretty sure my reaction to it was: boy, this Jack Nicholson guy is a dick. He’s surrounded by people who want to love him and he’s horrible to all of them. But now, I see it more as everyone wants him to live on their (honestly eminently reasonable) terms and he’s just not built that way. I still bristle at this character, but I see the internal tragedy better now.
