Here’s the ugly truth about the current state of independent film: filmmaking may have been democratized by the portable video camera and iMovie, but distribution—the means of getting films by the people, to the people—is still totally FUBAR.

No studio dollars, no big marketing push.

No marketing bucks, no big release.

No big opening, no run.

How do I know this? Because I spent two hours that were, in equal measure, exhilarating and spirit-crushing, with filmmaking duo John Sayles and Maggie Renzi (and, because I’m not above dropping a few names when they’re this impressive, Haskell Wexler, Lawrence Turman and Anne Beatts.) It was part of a small, roundtable/salon-y type thing I somehow fell into (to pervert a line from Animal House, “Thank you, blog!”), which Sayles and Renzi doubtless (in part, anyway) decided to attend to pimp their latest film, Honeydripper, which was wholly self-financed AND is being wholly self-distributed.

Okay.

For those of you who are completely outside of the Hollywood scene—who might know box office tallies and other useless insider info (something that came up, as well)—that is like me saying I’m going to build my own direct competition to McDonald’s out of Legos and gum, and have it profitable inside of four weeks. Seriously. Because…

• the pipeline is really tightly controlled by mega-chains and distributors
• the pipeline dictates that (most) movies must open big or die instantly
• the pipeline is configures so that all but the most outrageously popular films must move along, son, after a week or two

And mainly, because the pipeline is THE pipeline. There are next-to-no “little theaters” for cinema, like there are for stage performances; there’s no off-off-Broadway for movies. And coordinating what is there takes Herculean effort.

Which means it’s difficult for even great, proven filmmakers like John Sayles and Maggie Renzi to get their stuff out there to the audiences who want to see it. Let me state that again: to audiences who want to see it. Sure, there’s Netflix (and it’s great!) and yes, someday, that Internet pipe will be big enough and ubiquitous (provided we don’t blow up the damned planet first) but movies-in-theaters are rapidly becoming, as they put it, the blow-’em-up stuff that will play globally or the few token, anointed indies that make it. Bad news for those of us who like to see our movies big and communally, in the theater.

The good news is, these are some smart, determined people who don’t understand the meaning of the word “impossible.” They’ve been doing the impossible already for years: creating smart, interesting cinematic treats that live decidedly outside of the mainstream. And making a living at it. So they’ve put together their own distribution for their latest film, Honeydripper, which opens in theaters this Friday, December 28. Maggie & John broke down the plan for us over lunch, and I have to say, if anyone can succeed at this very brand new game, it’s them.

We all know how important it is for new films to do big box office on opening weekend, so I don’t need to tell you to get out there and support this Friday/Saturday/Sunday (especially Friday—that’s when I’m going!) But they’ve also put together kind of a grassroots worksheet on other things you can do to get the word (and people) out, and support the film. I’ve uploaded it to my server, and you can download it here. It includes a glowing review from Variety; I haven’t seen the film yet, but the story—about a black roadhouse owner in the 1950s American South who stands to lose everything unless he can pull off a Saturday night miracle—sounds good and fun and full of excellent music.

I’m all for the edgy youngsters making edgy movies about their edgy selves. Hey—I was edgy once! Okay, I wasn’t, but I pro-edge.

I’m also pro- grownup movies made by grownups for grownups (although Honeydrippers sounds like something you could take the kids to, and it is PG-13.) And as through-the-looking-glass as it is, films like the ones John Sayles makes—especially films made now, by the no-longer-young John Sayles—are the fringe films in need of support to get a foothold in this crazy marketplace. These well-crafted, beautifully told, thought and emotion provoking stories are what is really edgy and out there.

If you’re in New York or L.A., get out there, too, this weekend. If you’re elsewhere, check to see when it’s rolling out near you in January & February. Read the PDF. Blog it. Do that voodoo that you do so well.

See you at the movies, fellow hipsters…

xxx
c

UPDATE (12/29/07): Feel-good charmer/fable of the season. It’s gentle and sweet, with lovely music and a life-affirming message. Plus, that kickass Sayles storytelling ability.

UPDATE (01/14/08): Another cool DIY film project here, albeit on a much smaller scale: Fat Head, debunking current dietary wisdom, or what passes for it. Start with Michael Blowhard’s great interview of the writer/director, Tom Naughton.

Image of Danny Glover & John Sayles on the set via Flickr and ©2007 John Sayles.

TOPICS: reviews/film.

There are gothic tales of horror all around us, hidden in plain view. I had tastes of several growing up—something about my own, weird upbringing made me very freak-friendly—but I never grokked the way darkness goes hand in hand with light until I moved New York City in the mid-1980s.

You would meet people—in bars, mostly, but occasionally at parties, in bookstores, through friends of friends of friends—whose fabulousness you just knew was incredibly hard-won. I didn’t have a storybook childhood by any means, but there was (enough) money, stability and love to establish at least a foundation of normalcy to provide a reference point to the madness that followed. For example, my own overly-beautiful mother (as far as I know) was never subjected to repeated rounds of electroshock therapy, abandoned by my father when I was an infant or raped by a stranger in front of my eyes hours after we rolled into town on a Trailways bus.

All of these things happened to Jonathan Caouette, the writer-director-actor whose autobiographical documentary, Tarnation, took the film world by storm (four years ago, but more on that later.) Comprised of stills, film and video clips over at least 20 years, and originally edited entirely in iMovie, it’s a haunting, mesmerizing look at what one wrong turn (in this case, falling off of a house rooftop) can do to a delicate soul and everything that touches her.

It’s also a monumentally inspirational take on the power of the human spirit to prevail in the most horrific of circumstances. The film and video that Caouette pieces together to tell his story is clearly the film- and video-taking that kept him sane growing up in, to put it mildly, horrific circumstances. There are smidgins of film taken before even the very precocious filmmaker was ready to pick up a camera, but once those mini-digits were big enough to place “record”, it would seem young Caouette was at the ready and up to the task. Part of what’s so fascinating about the film is getting to see the artist in formation, on both sides of the camera (there’s one particularly compelling bit where he plays a woman in distress to the camera.)

Of course, even his impressive facility with the very simple tool that is iMovie was vastly enhanced by the soundtrack. Like El Mariachi some 15 years earlier, the film was made for peanuts ($218.32 of them!) and repackaged for substantially more. (Note to budding DIY filmmakers: if we can’t hear it right, we won’t be able to see it right.)

But who am I to quibble with the addition of some great songs and high-priced, Sunday-go-to-meetin’ sound editing? At its core, Tarnation is good, old-fashioned storytelling.

And I have never been one to turn down a good yarn…

xxx
c

• A great WIRED article on the making of Tarnation (for $218.32!!!)
• Tarnation: wikipedia entry
• Jonathan Caouette’s blog

Image of Jonathan Caouette and his beautiful mother from the film, via WIRED online.

TOPICS: reviews/film.

Sometimes, The BF has to drag me to movies.

Okay—most of the time. He’s remained a more ardent fan of both film and music, almost always willing to put up with the minor discomfort that trekking out to consume new things involves. I don’t know when I shifted from being the girl who’d see four (challenging) movies on a weekend in New York City to the old lady who’d rather stay in and watch a DVD, but there’s no denying I’ve shifted demographics.

Well, come on—like you’d want to leave your comfortable home and drive through 10 miles of Los Angeles semi-rush hour traffic to see a movie about a man who’s struck down by a massive stroke in the prime of life and wakes up from his coma to find the only thing he can move is his left eyelid?

As my friend, Danimus, likes to say, “The goody-good times.” I’m glad I don’t have to market this film.

And yet, I’m about to. Because that’s the only way a great but challenging film like The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is going to get the audience it deserves: one rave at a time.

I can do nothing but rave, save perhaps marvel. How did the editor of French Elle know what I was going through when I had my own hospital epiphany? How did he bat out an entire memoir with his eyelid? How did director Julian Schnabel make this story come alive—brilliantly, burstingly, hilariously alive—with a main character who was, for all intents and purposes, immobilized?

Most of all, how come none of that matters and the film ends up being about love and human foibles and communication and all the other utterly mundane (but profound) things we struggle with day in and day out, no matter what our level of autonomy or mobility or self-understanding?

There’s not a false performance in the film, and everything—the music, the lighting, the design—is beautiful. Unobtrusively so, there to serve the story and not for dig-me purposes. Full and mad props go to Schnabel, director of the also-excellent Before Night Falls, who won the Best Director Lion at Cannes for Diving Bell.

It’s also the perfect tonic for a trippy season—this overly-amped time of year when we wonder why there’s no there there and whether maybe we haven’t all got things a bit bollixed up and backwards. We have, but Jean-Dominique Bauby’s message is that it’s not so difficult to sort it out, should we really want to. Connect with your humanity—with the magnificence that is the ability to feel a thing and communicate it to another living soul—and you will reconnect to the all-that-is.

It is maybe a little more difficult to do when you have so many moving parts in the way, but it is possible. Live, live, live while you have the chance.

See this movie if you need a little reminder of all the good reasons why.

xxx
c

Image of the delicious Emmanuelle Seigner lifted from The Diving Bell and the Butterfly site.

TOPICS: reviews/film.

I know nothing lasts forever. I also know I’m overly attached to things. But a list of movies? Who thought I’d have to back up a list of my 20 favorite movies?!?

1. If del.icio.us goes under? I lose my links. AKA I’m screwed.
2. If gmail goes down? I lose my email backup. (I’ve got it all locally, but I’m perched on the edge of a rusty scimitar, AKA, I’m screwed.)
3. If DreamHost goes down? I lose this whole blog, past the last time I backed it up (note to self: find that plug-in that backs up automagically) (and for good measure, back up when you’re done with this).

Before I go on, please know that I actually do have a keen sense of perspective when it comes to “stuff”, based in no small part to—well, I can’t even bring it up in a post this frivolous. You’ll just have to trust me, my friend: between my travels abroad and my travels, period, I have an acute understanding not only of the fundamental impermanence of life, but of priorities in general.

Still, we cling to what we cling to, idiotic or not. And today, I’m clinging to movies. I had a list of them on a site called YMDB—which I won’t even link to, because it redirects to IMDB, which needs more traffic like I need more holiday fat around my middle—and it Summed Me Up in Movies, and it was a link between me and my beloved Neilochka, and now it’s gone.

Worse, occasionally, when I’d be hard up for a good video rental, I’d hop on YMDB and find a similar list. You know, like how you people who don’t yet know amazon.com is the devil sometimes use it for other recommendations on crap you might be interested in. Who doesn’t want a nice page filled with crap they might be interested in!?! No one, I say!

So to hell with it. I’m putting my new and improved list of fave flickage right here. If anyone has any ideas on other stuff I might want to see, let me know. I gave up TV, remember? I need distraction!

Some disclaimers before I give up the list itself:

• This list was cobbled together from dim, dim memory and a MySpace list, so, you know, it’s likely to change
• Drastic change
• This list is in no particular order (although I really, really love The Third Man)
• My criteria have more to do with desirability of repeat viewing than inherent greatness, which is to don’t even start about Showgirls, people
• That’s it, but bulleted lists look better in odd numbers

Now, without further ado, the list itself:

1. The Third Man
2. The Godfather
3. Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore
4. Showgirls
5. All About Eve
6. Jackie Brown
7. Brazil
8. Nashville
9. Caddyshack
10. Ed Wood
11. Fat City
12. Le Rayon Vert (aka Summer, in U.S. release)
13. Johnny Guitar
14. Saturday Night Fever
15. The Gay Divorcée
16. Sunset Boulevard
17. Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story
18. Play Misty for Me
19. Vertigo
20. Singin’ in the Rain

As I said, list subject to change. Like me…

xxx
c

UPDATE: Thanks to commenter, Scott, I’ve found the relocated YMDB. Here’s my old list (a lot like this one, here; I’m pretty consistent…)

Image by bryanF via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

TOPICS: best of, communicatrix, links, List-o-rama!, reviews/film, reviews/film, YMDB.

I’m a huge fan of period L.A.

Doesn’t really matter what the period is: turn of the century, ’20s, Depression era, Dragnet era—I love looking at how this crazy city-that’s-not-really-a-city came together because to me (and hang on, Easterners), Los Angeles is the quintessentially American city. There has always been an element of frontier thinking here—an anything-goes, Wild West, winner-take-all mentality. It’s a new place (like America), it’s a brash, commercial place (like America), it’s a wildly creative place (like America) with little-to-no sense of perspective or respect for history (like America), and it’s filled with an insane variety of people from somewhere else (like…oh, hell—you get the picture).

I’m also a huge fan of Brian De Palma, whom I think is a killer (no pun intended) reteller of stories: Phantom of the Paradise; Carrie; Blow Out; Dressed to Kill.

So it stood to reason The Black Dahlia would kick ass, right? De Palma + post-war L.A. + James Ellroy noir-a-liciousness = tasty treat for eyes, ears and brain.

Unfortunately (or not, for those of us without a bajillion dollars to tell stories), a show is ultimately only as good as its storytelling, and the storytelling in this case was hugely hampered by—well, the story, which (in all fairness to De Palma) had to be hell to unsnarl and bring to the screen—and the acting, which was dreadfully out of context.

I never understood acting and context until I started taking acting classes myself. I always thought it was ridiculous when people defended the typically British, outside-in school of acting over the typically American, inside-out, un-school. And the value of stage training seemed lost on me as well: what the hell good was stage training when most of the theatrically-trained actors you saw in movies from the 30’s, 40’s, 50’s and even 60’s seemed hammy & over the top? It seemed to me their training made them less believable, not more.

But film actors in earlier days hadn’t figured out the technical skillset that film acting required. They were as lazy or arrogant about learning the new medium as modern, mostly young and exclusively film actors are about learning the fundamentals of craft.

Film acting—the good kind anyway—requires both. It demands presence, which is incredibly difficult to teach (some would say impossible), and, on a sliding scale, technical skill, which is relatively easy to teach to a willing student.

Now, there are plenty of minimally skilled actors who can blow you away onscreen because of their ability to let their insides be seen…if nothing else is required of them. But the value of stage work (and outside-in work in general) is that it increases the vocabulary of the body exponentially and, when you throw in the presence thing, results in the kinds of performances that can both live in the world that the film is creating and rise above it. (Think Ellen Burstyn in Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore or Meryl Streep in just about anything.)

Period work in film (or on stage, really) has its own set of challenges. Because of course, our idea of what is period-appropriate is shaped largely by the movies themselves—not too many of us were around for the original thing if it happened much before the 1950s. But morés were different, language (both high and low) was different, If nothing else, garments and furnishings and food and noise levels were different. Yes, people are people and feelings are feelings, but the actions of the people and expression of the feelings is shaped by the era (and sometimes the foundation garment…or sudden lack thereof).

I realized why I was so disappointed within the first five minutes of The Black Dahlia: I had expectations of greatness based on the trailer, which was fantastic. But you can cut around an awful lot in a trailer, and just show the good stuff—highly photogenic people, made up to look just right in period clothing; stunning backdrops and design; evocative music.

Unfortunately, when the tricks are stripped away, you’re left with a bunch of rookie players who, in this case, were not up to the game. I hope they see this film and either go back to school or to playing within their comfort zone.

Of course, what I really hope is that someone in power will get a fresh look at one of the go-to players and put her in the opening lineup…

xxx
c

Photo by *YourGuide via Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license

TOPICS: reviews/film.