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Spring Season: Week 4
Still keeping on! I am now one of two people (plus the cleaners) still working in the dealership from six to nine at night, which is kinda fun and spooky. Still wary of my hours getting cut, we already laid off all of our lube techs, but I keep myself at least looking busy, and it hasn't happened yet, so. Also I work in a bubble now. It's fine! Everything is fine.
Not fine? The goddamn weather. It is COLD and WINDY and it hasn't stopped snowing it two damn days now, full-on whiteout bullshit, and I am SO DONE WITH WINTER. Serious quarantine jealousy feelings all up in here whenever I'm walking to/from work, however grateful I am to have been deemed essential and thus still getting paid.
Still need to watch this week's Westworld and Better Call Saul so Ex-Con Coworker can scream his takes at me through my plastic barrier, he gets so annoyed whenever I fall behind.
Have completely given up on my 'order food less' resolution, but I figure since I'm not going to the movies every week anymore, the money aspect of it balances out, and I'm still trying to curb my mindless eating when I'm home, so. Once theatres are back up and running, I'll have to knock it off again, but who the hell knows when THAT'll be.
Speaking of movies! I can still watch 'em at home, at least!
The Court Jester (1955): So I watched a whole bunch of Danny Kaye movies this month, and mostly I hated him, so this was a HUGE surprise. It's SHOCKINGLY delightful, I had a ton of fun, everyone is wonderful. No more Danny Kaye now, I don't want to jinx things. GET IT? GOT IT. GOOD.
I Walk Alone (1947): A rewatch, since Seven Days in May last week left me hankering for more Douglas/Lancaster action. They fuckin'.
Red River (1948): Another rewatch, since I wanted to see the alternate version! Some good stuff and some bad stuff here; cutting the book excerpts and replacing them with the Walter Brennan voiceover was definitely the right call, but the ending on this one is a LOT clearer in the logistics of what's going on between John Wayne and Montgomery Clift.
The Train (1964): Takes a really long, slow time to get going, but once it's up to speed, ain't nothing stopping it GET IT LIKE A TRAIN. This movie was CRAZY, I was not expecting so many explosions and bombings and giant train crash stunts from an old WW2 flick! Why weren't there more big-budget black and white action movies, this was AWESOME.
Le Goût des autres (2000): Flawed but charming. It's awfully pat (how small is this town that EVERYONE'S lives so perfectly intersect?), and the woman falling for the guy after seemingly having no interest or attraction or even much fondness for him the whole time is always kinda ech, but I don't know, this really did it for me. They earned it! That wife and her dog needed to fall out a window, though.
The Old Dark House (1932): The first time I watched this movie was in the middle of a Saw marathon, so now it always just fills me with a deep, abiding sense of peace and relief.
Local Hero (1983): I... think I need to give this one another shot at a later date, I had no idea what it was going in, and also... couldn't seem to figure out what it was while I was watching it? I wasn't even sure it was a comedy until the bit with the whole town sneaking out of the church, and I spent most of the movie waiting for some other angle of the plot to manifest itself (like the townspeople were hiding something, or something with the Russian guy, or something to do with a comet) and it just... never does, it's just this rambling little bit of Scottish idyll? Who is the title character? What is up with all of those sideplots that go nowhere?? And why is EVERY single person in the ENTIRE movie SO horny ALL of the time???
Sweet Smell of Success (1957): Snappy, pitch-black perfection.
The Bad and the Beautiful (1952): When Kirk Douglas screamed at Lana Turner to get out, he blew out my speakers and punched me in the soul. This was pretty solid, and I had a lot of fun applying my very rudimentary knowledge of Golden Age Hollywood in trying to figure out who the subplots were all based on (it's fuckin' Cat People!). My only major issue was towards the end, where the whole 'yeah, he screwed each of you over, but he also made you what you are' thing comes full circle, and like... the writer's situation was SO MUCH WORSE than the other two? Like yeah, he fucked his director pal over professionally one time, but let him go on to do great things, he moved on. He broke his actress girlfriend's heart, but he pulled her out of alcoholism and made her a star, she moved on. Yeah, the screenwriter got to make it big in Hollywood even though his first book's adaptation fell apart because of him, but also HIS WIFE IS STILL DEAD BECAUSE OF HIM, HOWEVER INDIRECTLY???? I'm not saying he shouldn't be similarly forgiven for that one, but HOW IS THAT SITUATION REMOTELY COMPARABLE TO THE FIRST TWO. HE IS IN A WHOLE DIFFERENT BOAT FROM THE OTHER TWO.
She-Devil (1989): Susan Seidelman, I will never forgive you for making me feel bad for Roseanne Barr in the same movie you make me see Ed Begley Butt. This was pretty fun. Meryl Streep is better in it than in anything she ever won an Oscar for.
L'enfant (2005): Stressful as FUCK, these FUCKING IDIOTS.
The Professionals (1966): Loved this, those landscapes alone were SO stunning, and the whole thing felt very... modern? I don't know how to explain it, it's a western, but that's the best I've got. The raw physicality from the actors was so good, and combined with those gorgeous rocky desert locations, I just got completely lost in this thing for the duration. Woody Strode is basically Hawkeye and it's amazing?? DYNAMITE ARROWS. Also, dying in Burt Lancaster's arms while he tells me I'm pretty after fatally shooting me is #goals
I watched a whole ton of Shirley Clarke stuff this month, lumping the last bunch of them together here now:
Skyscraper (1960): Hokey, on-the-nose little documentary short. Kinda interesting? Terrible voiceovers. Whatever.
Robert Frost: A Lover's Quarrel with the World (1963): For some reason, I always think Robert Frost should have lived way earlier than he did. This was suuuuuuuper talky (which, it's a documentary about an aging poet, should have expected that I guess) and kinda tough to get through because of it, but he seems like he was a cool dude!
In Paris Parks (1954): Gentle idyllic documentary footage. It's fine!
Savage/Love (1981): It's the guy from Tongues last week, except now he's talking about love and shit and his face just makes me deeply uncomfortable.
Portrait of Jason (1967): WOW. Just wow. Ending on a high note, I THINK, this was a lot and I think I'm still processing it. It's wild to compare it to, say the Robert Frost movie above, because it's even more of just one dude talking at a camera and it's twice as long, but it just BREEZES by, Jason is hypnotic, it's like you're just there in the room with him, shooting the shit at a party or something and watching him instantly become the centre of attention. It's immediately engrossing, but eventually it turns into this slow slide into something sinister or depressing or I don't even KNOW what, and the ending is just so bewildering and conflicting and what the fuck just happened??? And then it's over and like... I guess they hated him all along, which definitely goes back and recolours the whole thing, which is basically just plying a dude with alcohol for twelve hours and then berating him until he cries while filming the whole thing??? I don't know how to feel about this. It's kind of amazing. Jason Holliday is amazing.
So is Shirley Clarke actually a piece of shit after that last one? I have no clue! She made some pretty good movies, though! Portrait of Jason and The Connection were definitely the high points.
Wuthering Heights (1939): She was fearless, and crazier than him. She was his queen, and God help anyone who dared to disrespect his queen.
The Fugitive Kind (1960): Ending this hell month right, with PEAK MUMBLESLUT BRANDO. Channing Tatum fucking DREAMS of being this objectified in a movie. Tennessee Williams is decidedly not my jam (that ending, jfc come on now), but the performances make this one something special.
TIME TO SEE WHAT FRESH HORRORS APRIL WILL BRING.
Not fine? The goddamn weather. It is COLD and WINDY and it hasn't stopped snowing it two damn days now, full-on whiteout bullshit, and I am SO DONE WITH WINTER. Serious quarantine jealousy feelings all up in here whenever I'm walking to/from work, however grateful I am to have been deemed essential and thus still getting paid.
Still need to watch this week's Westworld and Better Call Saul so Ex-Con Coworker can scream his takes at me through my plastic barrier, he gets so annoyed whenever I fall behind.
Have completely given up on my 'order food less' resolution, but I figure since I'm not going to the movies every week anymore, the money aspect of it balances out, and I'm still trying to curb my mindless eating when I'm home, so. Once theatres are back up and running, I'll have to knock it off again, but who the hell knows when THAT'll be.
Speaking of movies! I can still watch 'em at home, at least!
The Court Jester (1955): So I watched a whole bunch of Danny Kaye movies this month, and mostly I hated him, so this was a HUGE surprise. It's SHOCKINGLY delightful, I had a ton of fun, everyone is wonderful. No more Danny Kaye now, I don't want to jinx things. GET IT? GOT IT. GOOD.
I Walk Alone (1947): A rewatch, since Seven Days in May last week left me hankering for more Douglas/Lancaster action. They fuckin'.
Red River (1948): Another rewatch, since I wanted to see the alternate version! Some good stuff and some bad stuff here; cutting the book excerpts and replacing them with the Walter Brennan voiceover was definitely the right call, but the ending on this one is a LOT clearer in the logistics of what's going on between John Wayne and Montgomery Clift.
The Train (1964): Takes a really long, slow time to get going, but once it's up to speed, ain't nothing stopping it GET IT LIKE A TRAIN. This movie was CRAZY, I was not expecting so many explosions and bombings and giant train crash stunts from an old WW2 flick! Why weren't there more big-budget black and white action movies, this was AWESOME.
Le Goût des autres (2000): Flawed but charming. It's awfully pat (how small is this town that EVERYONE'S lives so perfectly intersect?), and the woman falling for the guy after seemingly having no interest or attraction or even much fondness for him the whole time is always kinda ech, but I don't know, this really did it for me. They earned it! That wife and her dog needed to fall out a window, though.
The Old Dark House (1932): The first time I watched this movie was in the middle of a Saw marathon, so now it always just fills me with a deep, abiding sense of peace and relief.
Local Hero (1983): I... think I need to give this one another shot at a later date, I had no idea what it was going in, and also... couldn't seem to figure out what it was while I was watching it? I wasn't even sure it was a comedy until the bit with the whole town sneaking out of the church, and I spent most of the movie waiting for some other angle of the plot to manifest itself (like the townspeople were hiding something, or something with the Russian guy, or something to do with a comet) and it just... never does, it's just this rambling little bit of Scottish idyll? Who is the title character? What is up with all of those sideplots that go nowhere?? And why is EVERY single person in the ENTIRE movie SO horny ALL of the time???
Sweet Smell of Success (1957): Snappy, pitch-black perfection.
The Bad and the Beautiful (1952): When Kirk Douglas screamed at Lana Turner to get out, he blew out my speakers and punched me in the soul. This was pretty solid, and I had a lot of fun applying my very rudimentary knowledge of Golden Age Hollywood in trying to figure out who the subplots were all based on (it's fuckin' Cat People!). My only major issue was towards the end, where the whole 'yeah, he screwed each of you over, but he also made you what you are' thing comes full circle, and like... the writer's situation was SO MUCH WORSE than the other two? Like yeah, he fucked his director pal over professionally one time, but let him go on to do great things, he moved on. He broke his actress girlfriend's heart, but he pulled her out of alcoholism and made her a star, she moved on. Yeah, the screenwriter got to make it big in Hollywood even though his first book's adaptation fell apart because of him, but also HIS WIFE IS STILL DEAD BECAUSE OF HIM, HOWEVER INDIRECTLY???? I'm not saying he shouldn't be similarly forgiven for that one, but HOW IS THAT SITUATION REMOTELY COMPARABLE TO THE FIRST TWO. HE IS IN A WHOLE DIFFERENT BOAT FROM THE OTHER TWO.
She-Devil (1989): Susan Seidelman, I will never forgive you for making me feel bad for Roseanne Barr in the same movie you make me see Ed Begley Butt. This was pretty fun. Meryl Streep is better in it than in anything she ever won an Oscar for.
L'enfant (2005): Stressful as FUCK, these FUCKING IDIOTS.
The Professionals (1966): Loved this, those landscapes alone were SO stunning, and the whole thing felt very... modern? I don't know how to explain it, it's a western, but that's the best I've got. The raw physicality from the actors was so good, and combined with those gorgeous rocky desert locations, I just got completely lost in this thing for the duration. Woody Strode is basically Hawkeye and it's amazing?? DYNAMITE ARROWS. Also, dying in Burt Lancaster's arms while he tells me I'm pretty after fatally shooting me is #goals
I watched a whole ton of Shirley Clarke stuff this month, lumping the last bunch of them together here now:
Skyscraper (1960): Hokey, on-the-nose little documentary short. Kinda interesting? Terrible voiceovers. Whatever.
Robert Frost: A Lover's Quarrel with the World (1963): For some reason, I always think Robert Frost should have lived way earlier than he did. This was suuuuuuuper talky (which, it's a documentary about an aging poet, should have expected that I guess) and kinda tough to get through because of it, but he seems like he was a cool dude!
In Paris Parks (1954): Gentle idyllic documentary footage. It's fine!
Savage/Love (1981): It's the guy from Tongues last week, except now he's talking about love and shit and his face just makes me deeply uncomfortable.
Portrait of Jason (1967): WOW. Just wow. Ending on a high note, I THINK, this was a lot and I think I'm still processing it. It's wild to compare it to, say the Robert Frost movie above, because it's even more of just one dude talking at a camera and it's twice as long, but it just BREEZES by, Jason is hypnotic, it's like you're just there in the room with him, shooting the shit at a party or something and watching him instantly become the centre of attention. It's immediately engrossing, but eventually it turns into this slow slide into something sinister or depressing or I don't even KNOW what, and the ending is just so bewildering and conflicting and what the fuck just happened??? And then it's over and like... I guess they hated him all along, which definitely goes back and recolours the whole thing, which is basically just plying a dude with alcohol for twelve hours and then berating him until he cries while filming the whole thing??? I don't know how to feel about this. It's kind of amazing. Jason Holliday is amazing.
So is Shirley Clarke actually a piece of shit after that last one? I have no clue! She made some pretty good movies, though! Portrait of Jason and The Connection were definitely the high points.
Wuthering Heights (1939): She was fearless, and crazier than him. She was his queen, and God help anyone who dared to disrespect his queen.
The Fugitive Kind (1960): Ending this hell month right, with PEAK MUMBLESLUT BRANDO. Channing Tatum fucking DREAMS of being this objectified in a movie. Tennessee Williams is decidedly not my jam (that ending, jfc come on now), but the performances make this one something special.
TIME TO SEE WHAT FRESH HORRORS APRIL WILL BRING.