Drive

A few thoughts on "Drive," mostly to clear it out of my head, where it's been for the past few days.

I) Sound. 
This movie will win some sort of award(s) for sound design or sound track. Both were phenomenal and unique, in my opinion the major element keeping this movie from feeling too "Hollywood." If you've seen it, imagine it with any other music, sound effects, dialogue mixing, etc., and realize how conventional it would feel.

II) Violence.
The violence in this movie was shocking, hard to do in this day and age. Some of it was necessary, some of it was gratuitous, but it reminded me of the power that violence really has (see my notes on "Reservoir Dogs"). In this movie, the violence is (or tries to be) redemptive. Unfortunate, as its virtuosic portrayal could have been a stinging commentary against violence.

III) Driver.
The lead character in this movie is unnamed (played by Ryan Gosling, listed in the credits as "Driver"), inviting us to read him as a cipher for all kinds of things, including: Video games (particularly Grand Theft Auto), Cars / the Auto Industry, White/Western Paternalism, The Dearth of Heroes, Blind Ambition. Pick your favorite Big Topic, and try to map it onto Driver as you watch this movie.

IV) Wrap-Up.
I can't in good faith recommend this movie. I didn't like watching it, though I recognize how well-done it is. The only exception to that statement is the long cold-open. That bit could play as a short film on its own, and be perfect.

Tree of Life

A harder movie to make a statement about, there hasn't been in a long time.

There are many ways to view "Tree of Life" (Malick, 2011): via trauma theory, via feminist theory, or, as I would like to view it here, as an entry in the current cultural dialogue of (post) postmodernity.

Though it has many hallmarks of postmodernity, including but not limited to, temporal disjunction, referentiality (the father displaying  a Brahms LP), and a narrator of questionable reliability, I posit this movie as a statement not of the irony so integral to postmodernity, but as a statement of sincerity; to use a stronger word: a statement of purity.

I have made a similar argument about another, very different movie: "Scott Pilgrim Versus The World." The sincerity of "Scott Pilgrim" is very different from the sincerity of this movie, but I wanted to acknowledge that the above statement about "Tree of Life" follows roughly the same lines as my argument about "Scott Pilgrim."

The sincerity of "Tree of Life" is so overwhelming as to be almost off-putting. For example: at times, the narrator says explicitly what the movie is about. In just about any other movie (Gran Torino, for instance) I find this to be an abuse of film dialogue; film is about showing not telling, and it is the showing that gets Malick off the hook. As the narrator says things like "there is a way of grace and a way of nature," the images are of things that could be both or either: the mother twirling underneath a tree, holding a child. The cryptic sequences of cosmological imagery, of fish, of dinosaurs (no kidding!) all serve a function with regard to the words of the narrator that is (ironically) ironic.

Not ironic in the sense in which I have been using it up to this point; ironic in the formal sense of contrast between image and word; this kind of irony is the kind you learn about in ninth grade English; the formal device that makes sitcoms funny; etc. It is only appropriate that Malick deploys this visual/aural irony in service of what, from my seat, looks to be a very sincere statement about some of my favorite things: the wonder of the world (the "glory," as his characters call it), the meaningfulness of small things and small lives, the power of love between people.

Unless I am grossly misreading this film, Malick seems to be sincerely endorsing these things as (borderline spiritual) values, and his film does a great job of carrying this message across. As I walked out of the theater, the sky over the semi-industrialized lot near the Midtown Cinema had never seemed more meaningful, more beautiful, more indicative of the imperfect miracle of humanity.

It is encouraging to feel these things upon leaving a movie, and it is encouraging to see someone so well-situated in culture (popular, artistically accomplished, critically acclaimed) endorsing something -- anything -- with such bald-faced sincerity. Props, Malick.

---

I realize, reading over the above, that it gives you a lot to think about if you've seen the movie, but doesn't really assess whether you should or should not see it (though I'm sure you know which one I would tell you to do). Nonetheless, if you're still not sure about laying out $11 or whatever a movie ticket costs these days (mine was $6, a perk of having a local art house with matinee screenings), let me point you to a review by a film critic whose opinions I usually agree with (and in this case, do, almost point for point).

Reservoir Dogs

I saw this early Tarantino film a few weeks ago, and it has been occupying that part of my brain that thinks about films, both because it is interesting, and because I haven't seen anything else very recently. 

My thesis is twofold: Firstly, I argue that the violence in Reservoir Dogs is non-redemptive. Secondly, I argue that this is a meditation, not on real-world violence, but on movie violence.


I) Non-Redemptive Violence

Not a really badass crime movie, despite publicity photos like this one.

"Reservoir Dogs" is incredibly violent. Unlike so many Hollywood films, however, almost none of the violence is redemptive. Rather than engage in a lengthy discussion of Walter Wink's "myth of redemptive violence," I will simplify the notion of redemptive violence to "violence that ennobles the perpetrating character." Most instances of violence in Hollywood films fall into this category: Luke Skywalker killing Emperor Palpatine; the "heroics" of the platoon in "Saving Private Ryan," etc. Even if these movies contain instances of non-redemptive violence (the empire destroying planets), the dilemmas raised by those acts of violence are resolved by more acts of violence (destroying the death star).

"Reservoir Dogs" first piqued my interest when I realized that (with one exception) none of the violence ennobles the characters, and that the subsequent acts of violence do not resolve the dilemmas that the violence has created, except in that SPOILER ALERT all the perpetrating characters end up dead at each others' hands.


II) Temporality

Part of why this works is that the movie uses flashbacks. The advent of the violence is thus disconnected from its causality, as in the cut from the early slow-motion "walking down the street" sequence to the scene of Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) comforting the visibly wounded Mr. Orange (Tim Roth). Were the events arranged sequentially, the violence would seem more meaningful and ordered; the flashbacks, while still allowing us to (eventually) understand the motivations for the acts of violence, allow us to experience the effects of violence (Mr. Orange bleeding out on the warehouse floor) in tandem with the events of violence themselves (the botched jewelry store heist).


III) The Exception

The only act of violence that is in any way redemptive occurs during the famous "Stuck in the Middle With You" sequence. SPOILER ALERT. Just as Mr. Blonde (Michael Madsen) is about to immolate the captured policeman (Kirk Baltz) Mr. Orange, barely alive, shoots Mr. Blonde, saving the officer's life and revealing himself as the police informant. This is the film's only ennobling act of violence. Shortly after this (in diegetic time; a series of flashbacks intervene in non-diegetic screentime), the officer is killed, rendering the only redemptive act of violence meaningless; redemptive and meaningful in terms of the development of Mr. Orange's character, but meaningless in utilitarian terms.

Mr. Orange ennobled.

It could be argued that Mr. White's actions in the standoff at the film's conclusion also ennoble him. He draws his gun, and ultimately shoots one friend (Joe) in defense of the honor of another (Mr. Orange). This situation is complicated firstly by the fact that he shoots his old friend Joe, hardly an ennobling act, and secondly by the fact that his friendship with Mr. Orange is revealed to be a lie. When Mr. White learns that he has been betrayed, he also kills Mr. Orange, undoing whatever redemption he may have earned himself in the standoff.

Even though we sympathize with the characters committing the acts of violence, particularly Mr. White and Mr. Orange, "Reservoir Dogs" gives us no way to justify their violent actions.


IV) Movies

So, having arrived at the conclusion that "Reservoir Dogs" implicates systems of violence as being non-redemptive and meaningless, I initially thought "whoa, what a great pacifist movie!" This then led me to wonder about the movie's bearing on other systems of violence in the world, and I came to the conclusion that this is a movie, not about systems of violence in the world, but about systems of violence in the movies.

My first clue was the closed-off nature of the movie: It occurs, diegetically, within the confines of a warehouse. The violence that occurs occurs within a closed system (Mr. Orange is shot by the bystander, and then shoots her), affecting nothing beyond itself. This is not true to real-world systems of violence, which have all kinds of far-reaching effects beyond themselves.

My second clue was the fact that this is a Tarantino film. Tarantino is famous for making movies about movies, and this is one of the movies that gave him that distinction.

My third and most telling clue was the temporal positioning of the movie itself. Though it was made in 1992, the movie hearkens back to 1970s gangster films: the cars, the soundtrack, the famous "badass slo-mo scene," even the casting of veteran crime-film actor Harvey Keitel. Why make a movie set in the 1970s when the story would play just as well set in 1992? This movie indicts a particularly seminal period and genre of Hollywood filmmaking, and, by extension, Hollywood filmmaking in general.


V) Conclusions

While I enjoyed thinking about a movie with (almost) no redemptive violence, I was disappointed that its lessons could not be applied to real-world violence, except in a bluntly moralistic sense. Nonetheless, a movie that indicts movies for their unquestioning embrace of the myth of redemptive violence is good movie to have around, and it will be hard for me to see any onscreen violence without parsing it though the lens that "Reservoir Dogs" has afforded me.


Reservoir Dogs at IMDB and Wikipedia, two resources used in writing this analysis.

Oscars: The Winners

I didn't watch the ceremony, but I read the results. My picks did pretty dismally, as the following list will show. The winner is listed first, with my pick in [brackets] after it. In the rare instance that I chose correctly, the brackets say "correct."

Best Picture: The King's Speech [The Social Network]
Actor in a Leading Role: Colin Firth in The King's Speech [James Franco in 127 Hours]
Actor in a Supporting Role: Christian Bale in The Fighter [John Hawkes in Winter's Bone]
Actress in a Leading Role: Natalie Portman in Black Swan [Correct]
Actress in a Supporting Role: Melissa Leo in The Fighter [Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit]
Animated Feature Film: Toy Story 3 [Correct]
Art Direction: Alice in Wonderland [The King's Speech]
Cinematography: Inception [True Grit]
Costume Design: Alice in Wonderland [I Am Love]
Direction: Tom Hooper for The King's Speech [David O. Russel for The Fighter]
Documentary: Inside Job [Exit Through the Giftshop]
Documentary Short: Strangers No More [Killing In The Name]
Film Editing: The Social Network [127 Hours]
Foreign Language Film: In a Better World [Incendies]
Makeup: The Wolfman [Barney's Version]
Music (Original Score): The Social Network [Inception]
Music (Original Song): We Belong Together from Toy Story 3 [Coming Home from Country Strong]
Short Film, Animated: The Lost Thing [Day and Night]
Short Film, Live Action: God of Love [Correct]
Sound Editing: Inception [True Grit]
Sound Mixing: Inception [Correct]
Visual Effects: Inception [Correct]
Writing (Adapted Screenplay): The Social Network [Winter's Bone]
Writing (Original Screenplay): The King's Speech [Another Year]

It is worth noting, as per my hopes from the earlier post, that "The Social Network" did not win best picture, and the "God of Love," the live-action short film that I chose solely for its hilarious synopsis, won.

Oscars

"James Franco killed my Pa, and I'm gonna find him!"

Though this isn't a dedicated film blog, I write and think about movies often enough that I would like at least to mention The Oscars, and mention that, though I see far fewer movies than I did when I was in school, I saw the front-runner (The King's Speech, with Nathan at Harrisburg's Midtown Cinema) and the runner-up (True Grit, with Heather and Kelly at the Anthony Wayne Theater in Wayne) in the nomination race, and loved them both. I also saw the critics' choice to lead the pack (The Social Network, with Laribee & co., on the East Shore somewhere), and didn't like it at all.

Mostly this post is an excuse to share the list of nominees, my picks (see below), and to mention an interview I heard with True Grit's composer, Carter Burwell. Stay tuned for the second half of the show where Zlatne Uste, hosts of my favorite music festival, the Zlatne Uste Golden Festival, play live!

Greg's (undoubtedly biased, uninformed, and skewed) Oscar Picks
Best Picture: Social Network (though I'd love if Winter's Bone -- or anything else, really -- won)
Actor in a Leading Role: James Franco in 127 Hours
Actor in a Supporting Role: John Hawkes in Winter's Bone
Actress in a Leading Role: Natalie Portman in Black Swan
Actress in a Supporting Role: Hailee Steinfeld in True Grit
Animated Feature Film: Toy Story 3
Art Direction: The King's Speech
Cinematography: True Grit
Costume Design: I Am Love
Direction: David O. Russel for The Fighter
Documentary: Exit Through the Giftshop (though I'd love if Gasland won)
Documentary Short: I have no idea. In the interests of a full slate, I'll pick Killing In The Name
Film Editing: 127 Hours
Foreign Language Film: (also no idea) Incendies
Makeup: Barney's Version
Music (Original Score): Inception
Music (Original Song): Coming Home from Country Strong
Short Film, Animated: Day and Night
Short Film, Live Action: God of Love (chosen solely for its synopsis)
Sound Editing: True Grit
Sound Mixing: Inception
Visual Effects: Inception
Writing (Adapted Screenplay): Winter's Bone
Writing (Original Screenplay): Another Year

Maybe I'm Destined To Be A Film Professor

I) The Story

It began with a bet between Frank and Liz: "'Batman' is better [than 'Batman Returns']."
"Oh no," said Frank. "Oh no it is not. Danny DeVito as the Penguin? That's gold."

It was on. We screened 'Batman' at Frank's house after work one night. Frank welcomed us in with apple pie and a fireplace, and, after 45 minutes of work repairing the damage I'd done to the VHS tape, we watched 'Batman.'

VHS tapes, it should be noted, are more reparable than DVD players. It's not a fair comparison (we didn't have to repair the VCR, just the cassette), but it is worth pointing out: because of problems with the former, we delayed our screening and fixed the tape. Because of problems with the latter, we delayed our screening, moved the location downtown, and left the machine untouched.

We screened 'Batman Returns' in the basement of Sycamore House, a local Christian community house. Perhaps because we started later (and I fell asleep during the conclusion), I liked 'Batman Returns' less. It was, however, followed by a quick foray into the cold to watch the solstice eclipse.

The earth's shadow had just begun its transit across the moon, and we looked at the river. Liz said "Awww, guys."

Since we knew exactly what she meant, we all decided to continue this series of film pairings. We codified the idea at work one night "Not necessarily sequels or remakes," I said, "but films that have some sort of commonality. Some reason to watch them together."

"I like this," said Frank, who is always straightforward.

II) The Exercise

So now we've got some movies to watch, and I leave you, dear readers, with a task:

Name two movies that go well together for an unexpected or creative reason.

A few of mine:

• True Grit (1969) and True Grit (2010) - too easy: a remake, but I still want to watch them back to back.
• Black Swan (2010) and The Wrestler (2008) - Darren Arronofsky's athletic/body-horror movies.
• The Fall (2006/2008) and The Wizard of Oz (1939) - so many reasons to compare these two: movies that are/about children and their stories, movies with stunning visuals, movies that are about a love of movies; but mostly because I suspect that the one that I like more (The Fall) is not the one that is, categorically, the better movie
• I'm still looking for a film to pair with Fatih Akin's hilarious 2000 romantic road comedy 'Im Juli' ('In July'). Maybe another road movie, or maybe a film that can be described as "I never thought s/he'd do this but..." (Akin, for those who don't know him, is known for dark movies about the struggle of working-class Turkish immigrants in Germany).  

So, go to it, movie-lovers.

Scott Pilgrim

The other night, I saw "Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World" (Wright, 2010) for the first time. I know I'm behind the curve in saying this, but it was awesome. In addition to it being awesome, I would like to posit it as a kind of zeitgeist movie of the hipster culture; it encapsulates the spirit of the zeit (time), even as it suggests new direction for the geist (spirit) of that time.



I. Comic Book Disclaimer

"Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World" is based on a comic book. I have not read the comic book (though I plan to) so all uses of "Scott Pilgrim" refer to the film.

II. Sincerity

One of the things I like most about this movie is its sincerity. Though its mise-en-scene and cultural touchstones (post/punk, indie rock, '80s videogames) are unabashedly hipster, its plot can be read as a repudiation of the core hipster values of cynicism and apathy. A spoiler-laden example follows:

[SPOILER ALERT] When Ramona (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) is leaving at the movie's end, Scott (Michael Cera) says "Ok, well, bye and stuff." Then he goes after her. There is real potential (in terms of the narrative, and in terms of extant footage available to the editors, according to friends who watched the deleted scenes) that Scott will let her go. But he doesn't! Thus, Scott's movie-long sincere desire for Ramona is validated. [END SPOILER]

Sorry, readers who don't want to be spoiled, but that's the only example I've got. When I saw the end, I was shocked -- for the movie to end this way works, narratively, but seems so out of fashion for our times, that, in addition to my love of sincerity, I was impressed by its creative vision.


III. Form

From the get-go, it is clear that this movie is not screwing around, formally speaking. And by that I mean, it's screwing with us all the time, and doing it damn well. Titles flash onscreen, comic-book style words accompany sound effects, cuts are non-continuous, the screen splits regularly; I could go on and on about the cold open and credits sequence alone.

This movie, perhaps more so than any movie I've seen or heard about, exemplifies many of things that are popular in filmmaking today, and often get described as postmodern filmmaking. What makes "Scott Pilgrim" stand out is how it unifies form and content. Tarantino is a good name to check (and he apparently spent time on set), but this is not a Tarantino movie. "Scott Pilgrim" explicitly refers and alludes to video games, but not in the sense that it is a "video game movie." It uses these elements, but refuses to play any of their particularly limiting genre games.

Without providing the kind of close readings that I would love to do on particular formal elements, it will suffice to say that "Scott Pilgrim" is episodic, ironic, playful, referential, and diegetically shifty (in the best way possible). It is, formally, the quintessential postmodern movie.

IV. (Dis)unity

I know I've extolled "Scott Pilgrim" as a movie whose form and content are unified. I stand by that analysis; the story, born in comics, retains its comic book sensibility in a beautifully film-specific way.

The disunity is a cause for hope: while the formal elements are textbook postmodern filmmaking, the story validates sincerity -- one of the things that postmodern/hipster culture has, to my dismay, left in the dust.

"Scott Pilgrim" gives me hope that my favorite things about postmodernity and its attendant irony (Gideon's wardrobe; the vegan jokes; the indie music scene) can coexist with that same heartwarming sincerity that drives the entire movie and is [SPOILER ALERT] validated by the film's conclusion.

'Bout Time For Me To Get Low

(see the previous post for the introduction to the topic)

 I. Trailer One

The biggest difference between these two trailers (aside from the fact that one has onscreen text quoting critics' favorable reviews) is in genre. Sure, they're both promoting a nostalgic, historical piece, but the first trailer hints at the darker part of the story: what it was that made Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) into a hermit. The trailer opens with the dramatic image of a burning house, an image that is used later, in a quick montage of action shots set to minor-key suspense music. The burning house is conspicuously absent from the second trailer. The entire end of this first trailer slides into an ominous register--not the explicit suspense and scares of a horror movie trailer, but the sense that there is more going on than meets the eye.

Consider the beautifully creepy trees at 1:18, the underlying music that begins during the comic radio interview, the gunshot in the rain (1:30), the line "he has a way of making people do what he wants" (1:32), "nobody knows what he's capable of" (1:36), the mysterious glow on Bush's face in the mirror (1:39),and the frequent cuts that underscore Bill Murray's character's speech. All of these elements add up to a sense of the unknown underlying the festive party invoked early in the trailer; none of these elements are present in the second trailer.

II. Trailer Two

The second trailer is a trailer for a sentimental comedy. It opens, not with the burning house, but with Bill Murray's character speaking about death... which becomes the set up for a joke about his lackluster business. The line (and same sequence of shots from trailer one) "I want everybody to come who's got a story to tell about me" is underscored here by an upbeat fiddle tune, recasting Lucas Black's character's reaction to the gunshot as a moment of slapstick, rather than of violence. The tune ends on the reverse shot of Felix with his gun, and the moment of silence allows for genuine menace, but is immediately followed by Bill Murray's character's crack about Bush's speech (0:54). In the first trailer, this sequence was underscored by guitar slides from the same tune, not the fiddle portion. A minor change, but one that changes the emotional tenor of the (almost) exact same progression of shots.

The trailer then gives us two jokes ("fancy car for the dead" and "that is his smile") that are absent from the first trailer, further selling the comedy angle. The next sequence introduces Bush's relationship to Mattie (Sissy Spacek), following almost unchanged from trailer one. The new trailer ads only a few shots surrounding the line "we had a go" (1:22) and subtracts Mattie's lines and the attendant shots of Bush in his suit.

The real divergence in the two trailers occurs at the radio interview (1:19 in trailer one, 1:28 in trailer 2). Trailer 1 goes into the subtle creepiness detailed above. Trailer 2 devotes this time to a further exploration of Bush's relationship with Mattie. Rather than the suspenseful violins of the first trailer, the second one gives us a nostalgic vocal bluegrass number (starting at 1:36). The trailer ends with a few jokes during the suit fitting, and cuts to the ending titles.

III. Trailers & Favorites

I'm always impressed by trailers, and these two show very clearly how subtle changes in music and cutting, as well as shot choice, can determine the emotional tenor of a piece. The two have significant overlap in terms of shots used, and the shots that have been excised and added have been excised and added to differentiate between particular emotional responses to the trailers. That someone can do that so subtly and so well always impresses me, which is why I set out to write about these trailers in the first place.

As for my favorite? I was all set to say number two until I undertook this close reading. The jokiness of the ending really ruins number two for me. Up till the end, I enjoy the focus on Murray's character, the less-dramatic music, the lack of fast-cutting montage (overused in trailers these days), etc. I don't care about the text onscreen that much, but getting rid of the ending of trailer one (1:59) is a travesty.

"Bout time for me to get low." Though it does not help me at all understand what 'get low' means in this context, the image of the old man sitting alone in what appears to be a church, making this declarative statement is a powerful insight into Felix Bush. Much more powerful than learning that he doesn't wear underwear. This sort of deep, if brief and not entirely understood insight into the characters is exactly what a good trailer should, in my view, give us.

 For Discussion: What is it in Felix Bush's past that the first trailer hints at?

Get Low

No, no, not that "Get Low." Or that one (props to Mel Cruz for sharing that). Read on.

This may be a function of my major at Swarthmore, but I really like movie trailers. Sometimes, I like trailers more than the movies themselves. I definitely see more trailers than I see movies (they’re free, and a whole lot shorter). But I’m also a committed skeptic when it comes to judging the quality of movies based on their trailers; that is, I usually expect them to not live up to their trailers. I usually expect new movies to be terrible. An example that I am not proud to share: after seeing its trailer, I predicted that “WALL-E” would fail artistically, seeking box office dollars as an exercise in cute-for-cute’s-sake. 

So it is very gingerly that I say that, based on its trailer, I expect this movie to be phenomenal.


There are actually two “Get Low” trailers out right now. The first one is linked above. The second one is here. I was puzzled by the release of the second, since the two are so similar.

After a second viewing, I realized that the second one includes critics’ blurbs, and after a little bit (a very little bit) of digging, I found that the movie has been out for a little while (though not to be released in US theaters till the end of the month). So that explains the second trailer: if you’ve got reviews, why not use them? Most movies would love to be in this position; they can’t release a “darling of the critics” trailer till after opening weekend, when the money’s already been made or lost. “Get Low” dodges that with its weird release timing (probably took it a while to get a distributor after being on the festival circuit in mid/late 2009), and by virtue of the fact that it’s an arty film, not a high-expected-gross blockbuster.


Now that that’s out of the way, on to what I really care about: which trailer is better? First, watch them both (#1 and #2) and choose for yourself. Remember your preference, and let me know in the comments. Tuesday, I’ll post my analysis.

My Favorite Things II: Movies

See the previous post for an explanation of my favorite things.

A note on authorship attribution: A thing we film studies folks discuss sometimes is the fact that a director takes credit for the work of a huge production team. Do I re-ify that flawed system by attributing these movies by director only? Probably, but if you're going to look them up to watch, they'll be easiest to find by director. Sometimes that's how it goes.

I've linked to trailers for each movie from the title.

The Big Sleep - dir. Howard Hawks

My favorite film noir. Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Howards Hawks! Intrigue! Violence! Double Entendre! What more could you ask for? Also, William Faulkner is credited as one of the screenwriters.

The Fall - dir. Tarsem Singh

A pretty movie with mediocre plotting, sometimes cast as a modern-day Wizard of Oz or a 21st century Princess Bride. It's really, really pretty and tons of fun.

Fitzcarraldo - dir. Wener Herzog

One way to frame this movie is a movie about crazy dreams and the efforts necessary to bring them to fruition. The movie's behind-the-scenes story parallels, to some degree, the plot of the movie, with the central set piece (you'll know what it is when you see it) tying them inextricably together. It features the as-frightening-as-it-is-excellent acting of Klaus Kinski.

O Brother Where Art Thou - dir. Coen Brothers

This is the "Cannery Row" of my movie list. Not nearly as critically acclaimed as some of the Coens' other movies, but eminently quotable, tons of fun, and the movie that got me interested in American roots music, an interest that I still pursue. I'm hoping to track down a copy of "Sullivan's Travels," the movie that this movie is based on (and a movie that gets a shoutout in On The Road, incidentally).

Tokyo Story - dir. Ozu Yausjiro

Firstly, I transcribed Ozu's name in the Japanese fashion, family name first. This movie is very, very slow (or, as David Bordwell describes it, "calm"). It is the story of family tensions. Some things happen. Other things don't happen. This is a beautiful, beautiful movie, but I will only recommend it to those with a good deal of patience. Roger Ebert says that he re-watches this movie every year and gets something new out of it every time. If that's not high praise, I don't know what is.