The only links page that matters… except for all the others.
Seattle screenings and cinema events are surveyed at Parallax View here.
“A written description is always and forever the point of view, more or less biased, of the correspondent. But the biograph camera does not lie, and we form our own judgment of this and that as we watch the magic screen.” I’ve only read the first quarter or so of Stephen Bottomore’s Filming, faking, and propaganda: The origins of the war film, 1897-1902. But since the document itself (a 2007 thesis, posted online by the author) is over 550 pages, that’s a hefty enough chunk to recommend this as a magnificent read. Tracing his subject from the 1897 Greco-Turkish War—which British correspondent Frederic Villiers rode through on a bicycle, movie camera in tow—to the Boxer uprising, Bottomore establishes his history as a crucial one for the public understanding of cinema. After so many war films turned out staged, censored, reenacted (Villiers returned home to find his footage worthless, already overshadowed by the “artificially arranged scenes” shot in Méliès’s Paris studio), or dishonestly promoted, the early audience’s naive trust of cinema, embodied in the historical quote above, was as shattered as any victim of the battlefield. Recommended, and introduced more informatively than I could ever manage, by The Bioscope.
David Bordwell is such a natural born teacher that he even takes the opportunity to educate while passing along news that his and Kristin Thompson’s seminal textbook Film Art is getting a new edition. And he’s such a perceptive observer that as always his thoughts—about Kubrick’s use of limited POV in a scene from Spartacus, and Vidor’s unconventional sound mix of a phone call in H. M. Pullman, Esq.—smack your brainpan like someone just flipped your Common Sense switch to ON.
“I don’t mind if you don’t like my manners, I don’t like them myself. They are pretty bad. I grieve over them on long winter evenings.” Joel Bocko looks at the very different codes of honor that drive Hammett’s cynical Sam Spade and Chandler’s romantic Philip Marlowe—and praises Bogart (and the very different concerns for fidelity driving Huston and Hawks) for subtly capturing the distinctions.
“Douglass had an elongated kind of pretty face and an eager-to-please manner that could make him seem very brittle. Whenever he spoke, it always seemed that he was trying to force his voice down lower than it naturally was.” Dan Callahan on the odd, desperate appeal of Douglass Montgomery, too indecisive to settle on a stage name let alone a persona, but who was captivating nevertheless on more than one occasion.
Photogénie, a new blog sponsored by the Flemish Service for Film Culture, is thus far dedicated to reports from the Il Cinema Ritrovato festival in Bologna; more specifically, to recounting the series of panel discussions grouped under the heading Cinephilia Rediscovered, which has included such commentators as Hoberman, Girish Shambu, and Cannes artistic director Thierry Frémaux, with streaming videos presented of each panel. Elsewhere at the site, Tom Paulus declares the early, silent films of Jean Grémillon the “major (re)discovery” of the festival. Passed along by David Hudson.
Jim Emerson recalls the formation of his cinema-love, and how it emerged hand-in-glove with a need to explain and communicate the wonders, as if that would let him possess the ephemeral, in a beautifully illustrated entry at his blog.
“I like that my characters’ heads don’t bump against the top of the frame. I like to show the sky, the trees, the mountains, even the roofs of houses, so much so that I only feel at ease in rooms with high ceilings.” Ted Fendt translates a brief article from a 2001 Cahiers du cinéma wherein Eric Rohmer declares his utter fidelity to 1:33 and lays the “expressive poverty of the image today” at the stretched-out feet of scope.
Stumbling across some Joseph Pevney movies, and half-remembering some others (“Splendidly lurid…. He has a single tone to offer, one that stretches to fit all but is, nonetheless, alluringly negative.”), has Richard Brody contemplating the merits of “good bad directors” over “bad good directors.”
“‘The Third Generation is fascinating. It’s also worrying. I keep wondering how long Mr. Fassbinder can continue this remarkable pace.’ Not much longer.” At Moving Image Source J. Hoberman tracks the reception Fassbinder’s films received from the New York critics, managing to eulogize not just the director but also the ’70s as a time when movies mattered.
Admitting he’s only seen four of Olmi’s films, Jonathan Rosenbaum ponders what buried auteurist links (some fine thoughts on Olmi’s distinctive use of sound stand out in particular) might connect the director’s autobiographical, staunchly neorealist films and his conventionally cast literary adaptation Legend of the Holy Drinker.
“Her daydreams are all real…. Each one was dreamt by a woman we spoke to. But the character’s life with her husband–that is artificial. So the reality is unreal. That’s part of the mystery of Belle de Jour. It’s a very strange film.” Jean-Claude Carrière looks back on his collaboration with Buñuel—and others, briefly—with the Guardian’s Ryan Gilbey.
Science and art, ever uneasy bedfellows, meet in eye-pleasingly gradated fashion over at Vijay Pandurangan’s blog, where the engineer hunkered down, scanned the web for data from 1914 to 2012, wrote some computer code, and presents the best proof yet for what many have suspected: Movie posters are getting bluer as the years go by. Link via Mubi.
Fiction: “The surgeon with a cigarette dangling from his lips gives the escaped con a new face, and if there’s a knock on the door, the chances are that a man with a gun will enter the room and shoot first, ask questions later. What do you want me to do, count to three like they do in the movies?” Before settling in to a parody of academic publishing and Oulipian constraints, the first half of David Lehman’s amusing short story “No R” consists of an extended survey of noir, in that breathlessly condensed fashion the genre so often prompts from writers.
Nora Ephron – essayist, humorist, novelist, screenwriter, and director – died this week at the age of 71. Tom Hanks, who starred in two of her most successful films, reminds us that “Her writing was always voice and detail” in a personal remembrance at Time Magazine. More tributes and obituaries collected by David Hudson at Fandor’s Daily.
The weekly links page is compiled and curated by Bruce Reid in collaboration with the editor of and contributors to Parallax View.