Christine Didn't Make It

This is Christine Chubbuck coming to you live from WZRB in Sarasota, back to you George.

I don't usually take a somber tone, I mean 99% of what I say and write is sarcasm. But I watched a movie recently that really affected me, and I've seen quite a few of those. Contemporarily speaking, this was perhaps the most overlooked film of this past year. It's called Christine starring Rebecca Hall as the titular character of Christine Chubbuck who is famous for shooting herself on air at the network where she worked. Rebecca Hall could very well be the most underrated actress of our time. People kind of lost interest in her after she was upstaged by Penelope Cruz and Scarlett Johansson in Vicky Christina, Barcelona. 

It's one of those films that makes you immediately go on Wikipedia because you think to yourself that no way is this based on a true story, but it is. The tragedy of Christine is very much steered by the patriarchy that is constantly in her way. The film is meditative and a strong character piece and if you don't know what happens in the climax it can seem to drag, and yet Hall carries it so brilliantly. 

Christine is a co-anchor at some local station in Sarasota, Florida…jealous? And she's interested in positive human interest stories, alas her boss doesn't give a shit because it doesn't sell. One could say that it's the female Nightcrawler but the opposite of that. She doesn't want to sensationalize the news, in fact she calls it exploitative.

'Jesus Christ, just make your stories juicy!'

What's truly tragic is that she is optimistic to the very end. In the opening scene (this film takes place in the 70's btw) she imagines she's interviewing Richard Nixon, knowing she'll never even get close. We learn throughout the film that she lives with her mother, and about to hit 30, is still a virgin. She hates pot smoking, which her mother regularly engages in, and has a general disdain for the shall we say 'free love' of the times. She is so determined to not be famous per se, but to succeed in the job that she so much loves to do; a job dominated by male culture. She even volunteers at a children's hospital and is desperate for human connection. The lead anchor she frequently works with is the handsome George played my Michael C. Hall, whom she is desperately in love with, but because of her awkward workaholic demeanor, she doesn't really have a chance until he invites her out to dinner only to tell her that despite her hard work and cooperation with the whole 'if it bleeds it leads' attitude the station has taken on, that George has been promoted to anchor in Baltimore in a top 20 market over her. What makes it worse is that he was able to choose someone to take with him and surprise surprise it's not her. Things are made worse when she find out that she a cyst on her ovary and the entire thing has to come out. 

The fake flowers that symbolize a lot more than you think. 

Over time, Christine realizes that everything is working against her. We don't really get a sense that she's suicidal but we get clues that she has some mental issues that are only exasperated by her circumstances. 

Aside from Hall, it's the direction of the movie that is truly special. The camera follows her into an abyss surrounded by 70's glamour. There is a brilliant scene where she's clearly distracted in an interview on air by the fake flowers on her desk. She abruptly stops the interview and throws the flowers at the camera operator saying that it's all she can think about right now. 

I suppose there's a tenacious stubbornness to her that a lot of us, especially women can relate to. She works in a highly sexist environment where her abstaining from drinking and partying is looked upon as weird and she herself is looked upon as aloof. The amount of time she spends working shows how passionate she is, but left and right she is shut down even when she is cooperative. Her boss has nothing but disdain for her, and they are at odds almost constantly.

The way the film is directed, we can see that not only is Christine at the end of her rope towards the climax, but she sees no other way out. We don't see the gun, not really. We see it in her bag, but we don't see her staring at it contemplating what she's about to do, which is the lazy way out. 

Her final and only revenge is to put on a very false and somewhat creepy facade by going to her boss' office and asking to be lead on the following Monday about the weekend news. She promises that it will be sensational, and in the most prophetic and unforgettable way, through the strangest smile she tells him; 'I'm agreeing with you'.

The real Christine Chubbuck

I've already told you what ends up happening to Christine, and sometimes when you're not quite ready for that moment even though you know that it's coming, you need to see it again. But I couldn't watch this again. It was directed so viscerally that I literally jumped …off of the exercise equipment I was on, but give me a break. 

Back to Hall, I really thought she'd be at least nominated, but the film was small, the film was dark, and if anyone should have won, it should have been Natalie Portman for her haunting portrayal of Jackie Kennedy, but Hall needs to be acknowledged not only for the aesthetics of Christine; the walking style, the hair, the mannerisms, etc. But it was one in a few times where an actor inhabits a character so intimately that it really bothers you. You want so much to know what's going on inside Christine's head and her descent into making the decision that she finally does, and yet you don't want to know; that's great acting. Hall did Christine Chubbuck justice in a subdued, understated performance of a woman who is pushed into a corner by her male colleagues and no matter how hard she fights and how much she compromises, she feels that she's left with no choice and no other way out. And there's a strangeness in that part of you that actually does understand that.

Trailer below, streaming on Netflix, highly recommended.

Shakespeare's Gay Pride

Granted I've never seen this play live, but this is definitely the best and most iconic version of Shylock. 

Brace yourselves, this might be controversial but since when do I shy away from that. I go home after a lone day, and I read or watch Shakespeare and try to write...because I am better than you. Tonight I rented on Demand my favorite Shakespeare play; The Merchant of Venice. Those of you who know it, good for you, and for those of you who don't...you're an asshole. But it concerns a man named Antonio (played in the film by Jeremy Irons) and the story goes that a 'close friend' Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes) desperately wants to court a woman named Portia (Lynn Collins) who lives in Belmont which I assume is a tiny island off the coast of Venice. Here's the problem. Bassanio is a do-nothing, just a pretty boy with a lot of passion. Antonio his friend is a merchant...hence the name 'Merchant of Venice'. Long story short (too late), Antonio wants to help him so much that he gives him license to borrow money from the Jew of Venice, Shylock (Al Pacino) who is a money lender because Jews back then couldn't own businesses. Shylock complies but not before reminding Antonio that he's a piece of shit and giving the condition that if he is not paid back, the forfeit will be a pound of Antonio's flesh ...literally. How's the Vera cliffs notes? They agree and the deal is made and that's as far as I'm going because for chrissake read some goddamn Shakespeare. 

Artist rendition of Portia fighting off suitors.

On to my point, aside from the fact that there are always women disguised as men and the other way around particularly in his comedies (Twelfth Night, Midsummer, this play, etc.) There is always a special and unspoken relationship between certain male characters. Ask yourself, why would Antonio agree to this insane condition on Bassanio's sake? He's always seen in the play as being so overtly kind and almost a doormat to the much younger and prettier Bassanio. He is literally willing to put his life on the line for him. It's quite similar to the relationship that Iago and Cassio have in Othello. And no, I don't think this is an Elizabethan bromance. It can be argued that Antonio's loyalty to Bassanio is stronger than Bassanio's loyalty to Portia. 

The debt to be paid. He hath laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains. 

In Shakespeare, the women who have relationships with each other are usually ones of mutual respect and friendship. Much like you would find on an episode of Sex and the City. Yet the director of this particular film likes to play up the shall we say flighty relationship between Portia the most beautiful woman in Belmont and her BFF Nerissa, to the point where it's not so subtle. 

Portia doesn't need suitors, she has Nerissa. 

There's another element, it's quite small but it's become an iconic Shakespearean line and most people that use it today don't even know that it comes from this play. Shylock has a daughter Jessica who decides to renounce her Jewish faith to marry a man called Lorenzo. She dresses in a man's disguise to escape and says; 'do not look at me for I am much ashamed of my disguise ...but love is blind'. Indeed it is. Lorenzo would love Jessica as a man or woman. Because love is blind. Ok, enough redundancy. 

In the end, everyone marries each other, save for one character; the Merchant. I would argue that the merchant faces just as bad of a fate as Shylock. He is left alone because of his identity. Shylock is a Jew, and Antonio is gay. Not giving much away, when Shylock asks for his bond to be fulfilled as the money was not paid back to him, Antonio and Bassanio have perhaps the most tender moment between two humans I've ever seen. Antonio asks for his hand to hold him through this whole cutting out a pound of flesh being removed thing, and proclaims love for him...of course this is probably a love of friendship, but still. It's Nicholas Sparks tenderness. If it were me I'd be asking everyone to hold my hand and then probably pass out. And yet, it's deeply meaningful in subtext. And for the first time you see compassion on Bassanio's face. I feel that's actually pretty important. Not even when he wins Portia's hand in marriage does he show such emotion. It reminds me a lot of how Romeo reacts at the death of Mercutio. Yes, we all know what happens in the end, but the sorrow at the loss of a ...shall we say friend, is very powerful. 

So many iconic soliloquies in this play, this is from the 'quality of mercy' speech given by Portia in drag.

Now, this is not the only play that has somewhat homosexual subtext and characters; Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet, Banquo from Macbeth, even Hamlet to a certain extent. But hey, argue with me all you want, I haven't drawn a line in the sand. I'm just finding recurring themes that I want to address (where my theater geeks at?). If people to this day are still debating whether or not Shakespeare actually wrote all of Shakespeare which you can read all about here , then I get my gay themes in Shakespeare hypothesis. Clearly I miss grad school or something. Anyway, below is the trailer. At least watch the film. Aside from the Zeffirelli 1969 version of Romeo and Juliet, this is as close to the original source material as you're likely to get in cinema. 

See below: 

Bye Bye Chad!

Can you sense the pungent smell of douche?

Yes assholes, I have been binging The Bachelorette. It's a show full of sociopaths that I can use as leverage when my friends tell me I should 'date more'. Oh really friends? The Bachelorette, boom. Shut the fuck up. It's a house of idiots competing for the heart of a bigger idiot. It's almost like a brilliant Monty Python sketch. And hey, if Ben Rothlisberger can admit on national TV that he has viewing parties, I can admit it to the bloggerverse. Sometimes I can't get the alcohol out fast enough, and aside from making me slightly suicidal, it's beautifully ridikidonk. 

Something that I haven't seen usually on primetime is someone that is so outward with their major major sociopathy that they wear it as a badge of honor...or a sash, whatever. Congratulations Chad, the 'luxury real estate agent' you're Mr. Sociopath of 2016. Here's your bouquet of poison ivy, and your sash stained with the blood of orphans. 

Chad's general attitude trying to establish himself as the alpha male. More like alpha tool.

Every time, well not every time, just most of the time when a friend of mine goes through a break up, I bring up something I learned when I was going through a bad break up that a Psych major alerted me to; The Dark Triad. For those of you too lazy to use the hyperlink, it's a trifecta of sociopathy, narcissism, and Machiavellianism. If you don't know that last term...I'm fascinated that you've made it this far in life. Now obviously it doesn't apply to all men, it's just a nice way of saying 'hey whomever broke up with you is a piece of shit and you deserve better and blah blah blah'. It cushions the blow of a break up, even though most of them don't involve divorce, child custody battles, and go as far as 'what am I to do Vera? We brunch at the same place!'

That's something he said to the women he's competing against 25 other guys for...Urly?

Now, Chad (of course his name is Chad) is a shining example of The Dark Triad, and I've come across my share of complete psychos. He's manipulative, he threatens people, he's two faced, and controlling. And just like a sociopath he was able to pull the wool over Bachelorette Jojo's eyes long enough to stay in the house for about 4 weeks. You have to seriously fuck up as a person to be hated by all other 25 dudes in the house like with a passion. 

But with Jojo, his Machiavellianism takes over and he's able to play the lost puppy with a dark past that just wants some love in his life damn it, when he's clearly baby steps away from punching a wall in front of her. Finally someone (I don't know his name, I'm not THAT into the show people) spilled the beans, and she sent him packing. 

Yes, give a rose to the serial killer. I fully support this plan.

Here's the thing though, I think he's a straight up serial killer. Instead of just going back home after Jojo told him to peace out, he comes back to the house Patrick Bateman style with like a thousand yard stare knocking ominously on the windows...and then it flashes to 'to be continued' THANKS ABC, you bastards. I want to see blood spilled. You finally made the show interesting, and now you're leaving me hanging? Not cool.

A New Film About The 'C' Word That You Need to See

Still from The Cancer Conflict

Many moons ago (last year), while I was the publicist for a festival in the Bay Area, I chanced on a really amazing filmmaker. I chanced on quite a few amazing talents, though this guy stood out in many ways. He was hilarious; a presence. And his film,  How to Lose Jobs and Alienate Girlfriends was his own brand of comedy. It was so unique in fact, that I made it a point to promote it to the fullest of my abilities, and no matter which interview I sent him to, he managed to kill it, to no surprise on my part. I got to know him better over the run of the festival and I'm very happy to say that we remained friends.

Director Thomas Meadmore on set.

He recently told me about a new doc that he's working on. In contrast to the aforementioned film, it takes a rather serious tone. I have to be honest (cover your ears, Thomas) when I first heard the title, my gut instinct was 'well interesting, but how do you plan to make this different?' And it didn't take me long after he sent me the trailer to figure it out. Here it is in his own words: 

The front line experience of what it's like going through cancer is horrendous. I had no idea. I thought chemo was like showing up and getting an injection that made you vomit afterward. But the emotional stress people experience astounded me. Often this stress is created by the uncertainty of where their life is suddenly going, what choices to make on how to treat their cancer, the treatment itself, or even the process behind co-ordinating it all. It's not so simple and going through this when trying to heal seems counter intuitive. This film is as much about these emotional challenges as much as the treatments they are taking.
There seems to be a divide, a war or sorts going on between western and eastern medicine, especially when it comes to cancer. With the western system struggling financially and the treatments themselves often creating problems where its argued they can be helped, and with chronic illness putting immense pressure on acute based systems, it makes logical sense to look at how alternatives could work 'with' orthodox, especially in a preventative sense. I don't know what the solution is long term, but I see a strong case for conversation and I'm hoping this film will be a catalyst for this.

I am a pretty harsh critic, probably because I'm so freakin' smart. (eye roll emoji), and there are few people I chance upon whom when they succeed it comes as no shock to me, because although a lot of this industry is based on dumb luck, there is some sincere talent that shines through. Such is the case with filmmaker Thomas Meadmore. His style and his eye are both incredibly distinct. His tenacity and passion shines through, and the proof is in the pudding. And the pudding is delicious. 

Another haunting still from the film. 

This new film promises one that will not only be thought-provoking and profound, and unlike most retrospectives you're likely to get about something horrible that we'd rather keep out of sight and out of mind unless directly or indirectly affected by it, it lures you in with a stripped down narrative of the courage and grace of the human spirit. It somewhat reminds me of a film I recently watched called We Were Here. It's a film about the AIDS pandemic, of which there have been many. Many concern themselves with  everything surrounding the crisis; the ineffectiveness of the Reagan government, the ACT UP movement, the AZT trials, the NAMES quilt...the list goes on. But this film reaches out and grabs you at your core and almost electrifies you. It's about what is the most important about these tragedies; the affected people themselves; their struggle, and their triumph, even if they end up losing the fight, the fight is valiant. That's what comes through in Meadmore's new documentary. It's an important film made by a very impassioned director. Where's the downside? 

The trailer is not up yet, but to give you a better idea of what you're in for here are some clips of Meadmore and his prior work: 

Below, an interview I set up for Thomas and fellow filmmaker from the festival Jack James (pats thyself on back) 

My Anaconda Don't Want None Unless it's Nicki Minaj

Like any of us could pull off that outfit at the gym.

A new video gem by Miss Weird USA, Nicki Minaj went viral the other day breaking the earlier Vevo record held by Miley Cyrus's Wrecking Ball, getting 19.6 million viewers within the first 24 hours of being posted. And when I mean viral, this might be the first video to actually give you a virus.
It samples that classic anthem of the early 90's that was everyone's guiltiest pleasure; Baby Got Back by the best-named rapper in the biznax; Sir Mix-a-Lot. Now, knowing the musical stylings of Nicki Minaj, hearing this song, I knew it wasn't just going to be a lame remix of the undertrack. She does take it to a whole other level, and when the video 'popped' up on the youtubes, every man in America had to hall ass to the Apple Store for new keyboards.
Not only the song, but the video harkens back to the good ol' days of bizarre novelty rap and over the top nail-on-the-head videos that came with it; as in Sir-Mix-Alot bustin' rhymes on a giant ass and bananas colliding with peaches. Oh how subtle, Sir knight.
All of that stuff is still there, but ever the envelope pusher, Nicki stepped it up a notch and a half. Unlike her pudgy somewhat repulsive predecessor, Nicki has a body that was built by 13 year old boys in a laboratory. You see her in any outfit you're like daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn.

Boy toy named Troy, used to live in Detroit...

So why not sample a song about big butts when you've got the most curvaceous one in fem-town? All the double entendres are there, but you mix in Nicki in a jungle theme like she just walked out of Britney Spears' VMA I'm a Slave for You performance, sweaty and lucious, you've got yourself a winner. Oh and btdubs. THAT'S WHAT I CALL TWERKING.
Oh and who makes a cameo in the whole thing? Labelmate Drake who's job it is to sit in a chair while Nicki dances all up on him like no-one's business and not get an erection. I'm not sure that mission accomplished.

And she cooks! (or performs colonoscopies) 

It's hard for me to believe that people like Nicki exist sometimes. Not only is she extremely talented and creative, but my gawd. That body is so fierce I feel like I have to watch her videos through a hole in a plate. You go girl, I am on board with all of your future endeavors. Thanks for saving us from the plight of boring music and overly emotional music videos (talking to you, Miley) and reminding us what fun feels like.

And now, for your viewing pleasure...

My favorite Music Videos (No Particular Order)

Smashing Pumkins' 'Tonight, Tonight' (dir. Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris), 1996. A very literal nod to the cinematic trend in music videos that had taken over around that time by basically recreating the Melies film; A Voyage to the Moon (1902).

Red Hot Chili Peppers' 'Dani California' (dir. Tony Kaye), 2006. What a tribute to rock 'n roll trends. No snark here.

Miley Cyrus' 'Wrecking Ball' (dir. Terry Richardson), 2013. I had to...don't you dare judge me...I know I can't look at myself in the mirror either...I know Terry's awful...yes I heard about the allegations...yes all of them...No I do not excuse nor condone them...yes this video is shot beautifully.

Fiona Apple's 'Criminal' (dir. Mark Romanek), 1997. She has a wonderful been-dead-for-a-few-days look about her. Romanek later went on to direct One Hour Photo (2004).

The Verve's 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' (dir. Walter A. Stern) 1997. None of this was staged. Lead singer Richard Ashcroft was asked to purposely bump into people as hard as he could.

R.E.M's 'Losing My Religion' (dir. Tarsem Singh), 1991. A great eclectic recreation of Renaissance art, Soviet propaganda posters, and Michael Stipe's indescribable dance moves.

Lauryn Hill's 'Doo Wop (That Thing)' (dir. Big TV!) 1999. I was beyond in love with this song and this video. Can't believe she stopped making music after that.

Justin Timberlake's 'Cry Me a River' (dir. Francis Lawrence), 2002. The ultimate indictment-of-a-cheating-lover public statement ever. And it's so sexy don't we all wish we had a music video like that to our name?

FatBoy Slim's 'Praise You' (dir.  Spike Jonze), 1999. High concept, high art, really really original and hilarious stuff. We all know what Spike Jonze as the delightfully dorky and slightly unhinged filmmaker of such critical darlings as Being John Malkovich (1999), this was a first glimpse into his particular brand of self-effacing humor.

And finally...

Lady Gaga's 'Bad Romance' (dir. again, Francis Lawrence), 2009. Because most of my friends will have a fit if they don't find this on the list, and quite honestly it's awesome. What can I say? I'm a little monster.

Why 12 Years a Slave Will Win Best Picture and Gravity Won't

Basically these are the two main contenders at the moment, and it's really not that hard to see why my title is accurate here. To whomever watched both, if you actually think Gravity (2013) will win top honors maybe you should go back to film school for a semester. Both actually have similar underplots; which is the story of survival against immeasurably difficult odds and circumstances. But here's where one triumphs over the other. What's that thing that's really important in a film that has to be nuanced and explored and worked on before principal photography even starts? Oh yeah, the fucking story. What's the story of Gravity? The plot? Two astronauts are stranded in space trying to get home safely. The end.

Both Alfonso Cuaron and Steve McQueen are auteurs in their own right but you have to admit that McQueen's work, though less prolific than Cuaron's is far superior. Here he's taking on a story that basically enormous in scope and emotion, it has to be dealt with delicately and with finesse, and he accomplishes that task beautifully. 

Visual effects don't equal Oscar gold no matter how awesome, didn't we learn that with Avatar?

I may not be a 'big player' in the film business but I did graduate (with honors I might add) from two of the top film studies programs in the country and was taught by some of the best professors in the academic world so excuse me but I know a thing or two about these things. Also, I pride myself in knowing what wins Oscars and what doesn't. A film based mostly on gimmick and technical tricks will not win anything but technical awards. Like anyone gives a shit about those anyway. Oh Sound Editing, Sound Mixing, Visual Effects awards are coming up, time for me to freshen my drink and use the bathroom. That's where Gravity will hit home runs.

Three huge contenders for acting nods this year, (L to R) Michael Fassbender, Lupita Nyoung'o and Chiwetel Ejiofor)

On the other hand we are blessed and I truly mean blessed with a film like 12 Years a Slave (2013) which doesn't come out every so often, it will definitely be in that category of There Will Be Blood (2007), The Social Network (2010), and others that granted didn't win Best Picture honors but that was mostly due to politics, but it's a film that 50 years down the line film schools will make their students study.

It's basically the Slavery version of Schindler's List (1993), which I have to say while watching I saw so many similarities between. It was a no-holds-barred account of the story of a man through whom we saw the atrocities of what people are capable of doing to other people that actually happened in our human history. It is brutal, and yet so sincere, that's how you approach making a movie about such a delicate subject. 

the brutality and visceral nature of Schinder's List made people appreciate and understand the content in ways they'd never had before, same goes for 12 Years a Slave.

Really all you have to look at is the history of the Academy Awards, yeah they're political, yeah they're just dumb show and a fashion 'meat parade' as George C. Scott famously quipped but who wins Best Picture? Perfect example is when The Hurt Locker (2009) triumphed over overblown bullshit gimmicky crap film Avatar (2009)...in 2009. Here's a few things that matter to the Academy; Scope, brevity, STORY, and pathos. Usually a film has to have all to win. Some times they miss the mark, but I think there's nothing about this film that they can use against it. It is literally perfect Best Picture material. A better film couldn't have been fitted for that category. And they LOOOOOOOVE it when a true story is brought to life. My friend and I are talking about this as we speak and she said the following about 12 Years a Slave; 'it's dark and violent and hard to watch', all good points. But that's never stopped the Academy. Sure Passion of the Christ (2004) didn't even get nominated, but that was largely due to controversy of antisemitism and a valid one at that, and also lest we forget the same director won a decade earlier basically every award for the 'dark, violent, and hard to watch' epic Braveheart (1994). And what else fell into all those categories? One of the greatest films of all time that as difficult to watch as it was we all still did and we were better people for it, that's why all awards went to Schindler's List (1993) the year prior. 
This film to me is basically the new version of that, it has all of those things I spoke of earlier; heart, pathos, humanity, tragedy, redemption, and it makes us FEEL rather than sit there going 'woah that was cool'. So it's no question in my opinion, and if you want to put money on it, I'm ready. 12 Years a Slave to win, Steve McQueen to win, John Ridley to win, Chiwetel Ejiofor to win, Michael Fassbender to win, Sarah Paulson to win. I'm putting all my eggs into this basket this year, and though it might not turn out as I want on some of them, the first two are a sure thing in my mind. 

Trailers below: 

A Royal Affair Reminds Us That Romance Is Indeed Dead

American poster for the film

 I seriously cannot believe it's taken me so long to watch A Royal Affair (2012) but it's been sitting quietly in my Netflix queue until the other day when I was driving up Sunset Blvd. and saw Madds Mikkelsen in a very ill-fitting pair of suede pants (yes, suede in May) walking down the street towards The Coffee Bean. I've heard pieces about it here and there, most of them good, but no one saying it's pretty damn close to a perfect movie, which it completely is. 

An affair begins in shadows. How's that for pretentious?

It is a Danish historical drama that made the rounds at some important festivals last year and even landed a nomination for Best Foreign Language Film at last years Oscars, shamefully it didn't win.

It tells the true story of a British princess betrothed to a psychotic and somewhat slow-in-the-head Danish king and is forced to relinquish all over her customs, language, and family and move to Denmark to begin a bizarre life with a bizarre man. Although The Princess Caroline Mathilde (Alicia Vikander) is unbelievably beautiful, like right out of a Botticelli painting beautiful,  the king does not enjoy 'visiting her bed chamber' if ya know what I mean, because he'd rather get wasty-pants and do it with some nasty hooker, his words...no seriously. But it's in Danish so it doesn't sound so trashy. 

The requisite naked-in-a-copper-bathtub scene, every period piece has one, it's in the rule books somewhere.

Time passes, and the king (Mikkel Følsgaard) grows more more and more despondent and insane due to what his trusted advisers believe to be 'excessive masturbation', so they audition doctors from far and wide to be the king's personal physician. Out of the few that make the rounds is a strangely attractive and mysterious small-town idealist and cheerleader for the incoming Enlightenment movement of Rousseau, Voltaire, and John Locke (and others that character names from Lost were based on) doctor named Johann Struensee (Madds Mikkelsen). It's beyond obvious that sooner or later this young impressionable now-queen and idealist doctor will begin a passionate love affair as she has a secret gateway to her bed chamber, and no that's not code for anything, that's actually in the film. I mean, he's the only one who doesn't wear powdered wigs and rouge, with those ridiculous white silk stalkings they thought looked so fly back in the 18th century. 

Madds has that rugged primal manliness...thing that you just can't put your finger on, you just know it's there, although you'd like to put your finger on it.

It's a bit obvious the queen is in need of some real man-lovin' and he's more than obliged to give it to her, but you know what? They end up falling in love, and everything falls apart as it does when love gets in the way of really steamy caressing and intercourse set to classical music. But as a historical drama it works brilliantly. It tells the actual love story and the tragedy of it, although totally inevitably, in such a passionate way that you still fall for it, and by the end of it are wiping away tears saying how you would totally give up all your worldly possessions and live in exile as she's eventually forced to if you could have a love affair like that, but you won't because it's 2013, and shit like internet dating exists. 

I swear 18th century costumes make any plot line sexier. That's also on the books.

It's brilliantly shot, and executed, and as a film is almost pitch perfect in narrative, aesthetic, and every other possible detail. Every time I see a costume that astounds me I immediately thought 'take that Sofia Coppola!' and that's always a good thing. This is a film that gets it right, and really reminds us that true love and romance did in fact exist at one point, where people sacrificed everything for it, and it's not like Grey's Anatomy at all out there, you just would have had to have lived 200 years ago, when there was no indoor plumbing. So you take the good with the bad. But seriously, watch this film. It's streaming on Netflix. I don't want any excuses.

Trailer below: 

Justin Timberlake: Actor, Singer, Dancer, Comedian, Sex God

My friend once told me right after The Social Network (2010) was released that Justin Timberlake was the greatest post-modern actor at this time, and though I didn’t exactly get what he was talking about and how that was true, I totally do now. But there’s another word I would use to describe him; Renaissance man.

He is like an old-timey singer/dancer under contract to MGM. He’s Gene Kelly with looser pants and killer swagger. We knew him as that slightly annoying girly-sounding, awful white-boy fro 1/5 of pop titans ‘N Sync, and now he’s an institution unto himself.

Lorne Michaels caught on to his comedic talents early on when 'N Sync first appeared in a sketch back in 2003 when they played an offshoot of themselves, and when he decided to ditch the back up singers and fly solo, writing from the depths of his heart about his break up with pop princess Britney Spears in the juggernaut song ‘Cry Me a River’, it was cemented; Timberlake had arrived. 

JT in his signature three piece suit on the cover of GQ

He also knew how to utilize style. Considering how influenced he was by hip hop, it would have been ridiculous if he came on stage in baggy pants, a Hilfiger puff jacket and a sideways cap being all ‘yo yo yo, Timberlake in the house!’, not that that’s how all hip hop artists are, I’m just making a point. He trademarked the three-piece suit and fedora dressing like a 30’s gangster and dancing like Fred Astaire, Michael Jackson, and Michael Kidd had a baby. And if you don’t know who Michael Kidd is well then you suck.

With perhaps the most ill-fitting named album ever ‘Future Sex/Love Sounds’ dominating the charts, Lorne Michaels invites Timberlake back to host his own episodes of SNL and last week he became a card carrying member of the 5-times host club, and he’s only 32 people. He found a stellar bromance with repertory player Andy Samberg and together they created some of the most memorable digital shorts of SNL’s entire history. You know them all so it’s redundant to list them one by one.

Justin Timberlake in one of his funniest sketches on SNL, playing Beyonce's back up dancer for her video 'Single Ladies'.

Then what happens? He tackles the only other industry left for him to dominate; the film industry, and boy does he. Yes of course it’s expected of him to be almost effortless in feather light romantic comedies, like an edgier Rock Hudson, but it was when The Social Network came out that we really got to see what he was made of. And one only has to ask, what’s next for JT? The man who can basically do everything? I say he hosts next year’s Academy Awards, or perhaps even gets nominated. He’s slated to star opposite Ben Affleck and Gemma Arterton in Runner Runner (2013) coming out next year, and after that he’s going to play an alcoholic in The Last Drop (2013), perhaps proving to us all that the effeminate soprano from a 90’s fad boy-band has grown leaps and bounds into a pop-culture institution that we can all appreciate. 

As Sean Parker in The Social Network (2010)

PS His new album (released today) is fucking awesome. I guess that was the whole point of this post. 

 PPS, all of his best footage i posted to my Filth Screen facebook page so it's again redundant to give you any more visual pleasure. You can find them here. Filth Screen on Facebook. 

So I'll just leave you with his video for 'Suit and Tie' complete with his Target commercial. Enjoy! 

Ode to Joan Crawford

As some of you know, I'm writing a play about Joan Crawford, not particularly to dislodge all of the 'wire hangers' rumors or discredit her daughter Christina's novel 'Mommie Dearest' which for all of it's sincerity was highly and almost comically sensationalized. 

I want (for some reason) to help people know and appreciate Crawford for who she was, and that was the 'ultimate movie star'. I'm sure that when the term was being coined, she was whom they thought of first. Not only was she a consummate professional studying constantly, taking allocation lessons, losing and gaining weight for roles before it was a thing, and even know which eye to cry out of when she needed to for a scene, but as an iconic figure head of old Hollywood, she's one of the most recognizable. She only won one Oscar, but had always stuck to her guns. She played the game until she could play it by her own rules and that's what makes her unique. 

Joan Crawford the flapper under contract at MGM

Aside from the alcoholism, obsessive behavior, abusiveness, chronic infidelities and other personal bullshit, Joan was a true professional, and completely focused, which is exactly how she became what she became. All that other stuff lead to her eventual downfall, but if anyone had a good run and fought the good fight it was her. 

Although she was married four times, she said that the love of her life was ultimately someone she never exchanged vows with; the very Catholic-bound to his marriage Clark Gable. They were too much alike, both from poor obscure families who came to Hollywood when no one would take them seriously and people had to fish their headshots out of the extras pile. They never gave up and before they knew it they were Hollywood gods, having quickies in dressing rooms between takes. They did 5 films together, but the relationship unfortunately dissolved. Gable's wife wouldn't give him a divorce and Joan was too obsessed with herself to care. 

Joan and Gable always had great chemistry on film. Wasn't hard when the two were in love behind the cameras as well.

Here's another thing you might not have known, Joan was bisexual. One of her most famous conquests was Marilyn Monroe, 22 years her junior, whom she incessantly hit on usually in a drunken stupor when Marilyn would spend the night at her Brentwood mansion, and for some reason Marilyn eventually decided to reject her advances, perhaps because she was not her type, or perhaps because Joan was kind of scary at that point, who knows. Anyway, can you only imagine how hot that would be? 

I love Joan because she adapted to every single thing asked of her. She started in Hollywood as a contracted dancer, not an actress, and appeared as a chorus extra in mid-level films where she was nearly unrecognizable. But with limitless drive and determination she learned everything about the business and made friends with the right people until she was number one on her studio boss' L.B. Mayer's list for his next projects. By the time she had achieved that, she had come into what people like to refer to as her 'face' that very recognizable look of the giant eyes, exaggerated eye-brows, and those crazy lips which Max Factor invented calling it 'the smear'. By the time she was declared box-office poison from playing too many shop girls who make good but still manage to wear designer gowns, she decided to keep fighting and told her boss L.B. 'no more goddamn shopgirls'. After that they fought over parts and she was one of the first to move out of her studio and fly solo. Back then, a hugely risky move, but it payed off because rival to MGM (where she got her start), Warner Bros. was inclined to hire her for a little project sitting on the shelf for two years called Mildred Pierce (1945) which one her her first and only Academy Award. 

Joan Crawford still gorgeous in her 40's in Mildred Pierce (1945)

At that point, she was close to mid-40's herself, a battle year for any actress, but she decided to reinvent herself again; had her teeth recapped, cut her hair short, and wore mannish clothing, making herself into some kind of warrior identity which worked perfectly for Nicholas Ray's Johnny Guitar (1954).

Basically after that, it was a slow decline, but the legacy was cemented. That is of course until her adopted daughter Christina wrote a scathing tell-all called 'Mommie Dearest' and tarnished Joan's reputation forever. No one would give you an argument if you said that Joan was not mother of the year, but the book is not exactly fully accurate. Books need to make money too, and I'm not saying I'm agreeing with it one way or the other. As Joan historian William Schoell said 'it's a great tragedy that when people hear the name Joan Crawford the first thing they think is 'no more wire hangers', because there is another Joan Crawford that people should remember.' Which is just exactly what I'm trying to do. Wish me luck!

Here are some clips. 

'Disconnected' from Reality: Warhol was Right All Along

Film's poster.

Finally a film allegory of the badness of technology, Ok I can do better than that to describe the new film Disconnect (2013), but because I was once a graduate student and PhD candidate in the ever growingly redundant and useless department of film studies anywhere, I'm going to drop some logistical reasoning on y'all before I get down to business.

This film harkens back to an idea I had been toying with during my PhD year, and yes I was only there one year before I said 'fuck this shit' and rightfully so. Anyway the idea was based on the Warholian concept of wanting to live forever and exist in technology as a machine. His simple quote 'I want to be a machine' harkens to the prophetic nature of machinery becoming integral in how we live our lives. I am not speaking in terms of how it would be perceived during say the industrial revolution like 'cars help us get places faster, and radio gives me information right in my living room', I mean in the sense that whatever we deem imperfect with our lives, we can refashion in our seemingly endless existence in the machine world. This has manifested itself particularly in terms of the superhuman or the post-human identity particularly with that of facebook. Bored yet? Well I am so let's switch gears. 

'text away, son'.

So a lot of hot people realize that their necessity in finding 'absolute truths' about themselves through the online universe has lead to their own demise. As Rooney Mara's character in The Social Network (2010) so eloquently put it 'the internet isn't written in pencil, it's written in ink'. Ergo, all of our mistakes, faux pas, dumb moments, etc. exist forever; being the double edged sword of internet post-human existence. And there I go off again. 

It has potential, it's the second seemingly serious reflection of our growing dependence and odd addiction to what some have started calling 'public displays of narcissism' which is basically what facebook is. In our endless pursuit of magnifying the good and deleting the bad from our online avatars, we have created a system of self-destruction the first sign of which is human disconnection. Ok I'm getting tired of my own voice here. The first film to address this new-millenium issue particularly a post-2010 issue was of course The Social Network (2010), after which, I think Catfish (2011) did a pretty good job, and if it weren't the highly overrated bullshit television series it turned into I'd say that with a straight face. Also, I have to give props to David Cronenberg's imaginative and surreal Cosmopolis (2012) which was also an anthem against this 'disconnect phenomenon'. More and more films like this that are reflexive of this particular bizarre influence on our culture including Matteo Garrone's Fellini-esque opus about a man who struggles in not living his life on a grand enough scale to where people everywhere can experience it too and becomes obsessed with getting on a second rate TV show slated for release later this year called Reality (2013).

Warhol and an antique camera. Most pictures of him had him holding a camera because he was always in the process of recording.

Aside from that, this phenom was actually something prophesied by you guessed it, Warhol. His films echo that sentiment in that they basically go on forever, as life organically does, without stopping or editing, but it exists mechanically, therefore the mechanical existence of ourselves overpowers our organic existence, and yes I am trying to remember bits and pieces of my dissertation right now, so I'll just leave you with the trailers.