Since you’re reading this I can guess that you’re a big movie enthusiast. Me too. Together we’ve seen a lot of movies. When we get together with our friends we’re the ones who know that actor’s name or that director’s name, or what year that came out. But in my peer group there’s someone who knows so much more, who has so many more years of experience at this, that I am constantly learning from him and tracking down films he recommends. That person is Austin Film Society founder and Artistic Director Richard Linklater.
Last summer we presented a series of films chosen and introduced by Linklater called Jewels In The Wasteland, spotlighting the first 4 years of that maligned decade, the ’80s. You can see the full lineup here.
This spring, even though Linklater was hard at work finishing a new film, we managed to squeeze in a 10 film series covering the years 1984-1986. But due to the brevity of our time window and, in some cases, non-availability of certain film prints from the era, we were not able to show everything we necessarily wanted to.
Last year, Linklater created a 1980-1983 Summer Viewing List” for people who wanted to keep the series going at home, or just to get some great movie recommendations. Now he has created the 1984-1986 Summer Viewing List.
Pro-tip, if you create a free account on Letterboxd, you can use these lists to create your own watchlist of films you want to get around to seeing. We recommend it.
Hollywood Reporter today released a truly bizarre report about an 10-day acting class taught by the legendary Marlon Brando in 2002. The story is so odd and improbable that I was checking throughout for an April 1 dateline or an indication that it was a satirical story, but it seems to check out. Quotes below are from the article, which you really must read.
Though he was in poor health and seemingly mentally unstable, a whole assortment of A through C-list Hollywoodites signed up for what Branco advertised as an acting workshop in 2002. The idea was that the recorded footage of the class could be licensed and sold – possibly on QVC. Attendees included Nick Nolte, Sean Penn, Edward James Olmos, John Voight, Whoopi Goldberg, Harry Dean Stanton and Robin Williams, who was there for every minute of every session. Michael Jackson showed up for one class, as did Leonardo DiCaprio, who balked at signing the camera release and was ejected from the class by Brando.
Brando hired AMERICAN HISTORY X director Tony Kaye to supervise the camera crews documenting the event. Kaye reportedly showed up on the first day of shooting dressed as Osama Bin Laden. Brando himself didn’t disappoint in the weirdness department either.
“When the doors flung open, the 78-year-old Brando appeared wearing a blond wig, blue mascara, a black gown with an orange scarf and a bodice stuffed with gigantic falsies. Waving a single rose in one hand, he sashayed through the warehouse, plunked his 300-pound frame onto a thronelike chair on a makeshift stage and began fussily applying lipstick.
“I am furious! Furious!” Brando told the group in a matronly English accent, launching into an improvised monologue that ended, 10 minutes later, with the actor turning around, lifting his gown and mooning the crowd.”
“During one of the sessions, a troupe of little people and a team of Samoan wrestlers — Brando somehow had wrangled all of them to the warehouse on the same day — did improvisation exercises together on the stage. Another time, Brando plucked a homeless man from a dumpster and brought him in for acting lessons. He had students strip naked in front of the entire class. (“The girls were shaking, like, ‘What the f— am I doing here?’ ” recalls Olmos. “But Brando had a reason for it. He always had a reason.”) While a jazz musician played Brando’s favorite tunes on a rented piano, Philippe Petit, the French tightrope walker who had crossed the Twin Towers, did stunts on a high-wire.”
But it wasn’t just a circus. Real lessons were taught. Brando, after all, was one of the greatest actors of all time.
For Robin Williams’ improv, Brando brought in a real used-car salesman whom he had imported from a Ford dealership in North Hills. The salesman left the improv master speechless. “We didn’t know he was a real car salesman,” says Olmos. “We didn’t know who he was or where he was from. We just thought it was going to be another improv. But Brando brought this guy onstage, and he tells him to try to sell a car to Robin Williams. And then he tells Robin, ‘But you don’t want to buy the car.’ And all of a sudden, this car salesman kicks in, and he’s incredible. He was so fast he wouldn’t let Robin get a word in. But that was the point of the exercise. Even Robin Williams, who was an expert at improv, who was so quick he could annihilate you, had to listen and react when dealing with the truth. Even Robin Williams gets slapped in the face by reality. That was the lesson Marlon was teaching.”
This month AFS Presents a series of three films directed by Dorothy Arzner, who made films in Hollywood during the studio system era as the only contracted female director since the silent era.
Films screened will be DANCE, GIRL, DANCE (1940) on June 12 & 14; MERRILY WE GO TO HELL (1932) on June 19 & 21; and WORKING GIRLS on June 23 & 28.
Here’s a fascinating interview with Dorothy Arzner, conducted by Karyn Kay and Gerald Peary by mail in 1974. She gives an idea about the kinds of career opportunities a woman might be expected to have in Hollywood during that era. Her struggle to rise in the ranks and become a director is modestly recounted, but we can only imagine the kind of courage it must have required to make the stand she did.
An excerpt:
“… and I told him, I was leaving Paramount after seven years, and I wanted to say good-bye to someone important. “Come into my office, Dorothy.” I followed him, and when he sat down behind his desk, I put out my hand and said, “Really, I didn’t want a thing, just wanted to say good-bye to someone important. I’m leaving to direct.” He turned and picked up the intercom and said, “Ben—Dorothy’s in my office and says she’s leaving.” I heard Ben Schulberg say, “Tell her I’ll be right in.” Which he was—in about three minutes.
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” “I’ve finished Ironsides. I’ve closed out my salary, and I’m leaving.” “We don’t want you to leave. There’s always a place in the scenario department for you.” “I don’t want to go into the scenario department. I’m going to direct for a small company.” “What company?” he asked. “I won’t tell you because you’d probably spoil it for me.” “Now Dorothy, you go into our scenario department and later we’ll think about directing.” “No, I know I’d never get out of there.” “What would you say if I told you that you could direct here?” “Please don’t fool me, just let me go. I’m going to direct at Columbia.” “You’re going to direct here at Paramount.” “Not unless I can be on a set in two weeks with an A picture. I’d rather do a picture for a small company and have my own way than a B picture for Paramount.”
With that he left, saying, “Wait here.” He was back in a few minutes with a play in his hand. “Here. It’s a French farce called The Best Dressed Woman in Paris.
So, there I was a writer-director. It was announced in the papers the following day or so: “Lasky Names Woman Director.”
The photo above may look like a Mark Rothko painting, but it is actually a composite of every 10th second of John Ford’s classic western THE SEARCHERS (1956). All the Monument Valley sandstone formations, all the golden sunlight, richer than ever in Technicolor, and all the wide blue sky is there, as well as John Wayne’s brick red shirt and chestnut mount.
Here, and note the Cinemascope frame, is Sergio Leone’s ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST (1968), given the same treatment:
Talent is usually discernible from a long distance or with a small sample size. Even when a major director’s work is a little undercooked and not quite successful, we can see the makings of a real filmmaker.
Here’s a short called WHAT’S A NICE GIRL LIKE YOU DOING IN A PLACE LIKE THIS? made by 20 year old student Martin Scorsese in 1963. You can feel the humor of the time and place and you can also sense the assurance and gifts of its young writer/director. The camera movements and edits feel like prime post-TAXI DRIVER Scorsese and the pacing feels downright GOODFELLAS-ish.
It has a real Nichols and May feel to it, and an enthusiasm for every film technique the young director could master, which even at this early date, was a lot.
For nearly 20 years the site UbuWeb has existed to promote and promulgate avant-garde poetry, music and video content. Founder Kenneth Goldsmith calls UbuWeb the “Robin Hood of the Avant-Garde.” Offerings are vast and eye-opening, a constant source of refreshment for those who like to be exposed to different ideas and systems of thought.
The film and video section of UbuWeb contains hundreds of entries, most of them completely obscure. It is fun to explore the stacks and find yourself watching a vicious parody of a beauty pageant from 1977 or a Cindy Sherman film essay about doll clothes or even 45 minutes of Ennio Morricone playing obtuse electro-acoustic music with Gruppo di Improvvisazione di Nuova Consonanza (1967).
UbuWeb fulfills the promise of the internet to bring culture, even outlaw culture, to the masses. It’s always been on unstable footing, and in a somewhat precarious position as concerns copyright, but it’s still here. Use it.
Wow, our Jewels In The Wasteland II screening of RIVER’S EDGE (1986) was pretty terrific. It’s a movie that I had not seen since the ’80s and my memories were that it was relentlessly grim. It’s not. There’s so much humor in it. So many notes of truth. It’s a great film. Here’s AFS Artistic Director Richard Linklater’s pre-recorded introduction (he had to miss the beginning of the screening) and the post movie discussion.