https://open.spotify.com/episode/1eAvqEXUCoQZz6RFmNNpub?si=6301aa0f4dac409c
Cinematic Music with Pauly Deathwish
Season 1 Episode 5
Tag Archives: Ghost World
“Belgian Lace, Pale Black Mascara” [2021)
https://open.spotify.com/track/7J139cO4CedLM9MW7pAoOu?si=f1b22b54b191426c
Recommended if you like Rollerskate Skinny
Take Me Somewhere Nice [2019)
Sara Luna Zorić.
The world is fucked up.
For two years we fought against medical tyranny.
We fought against killer vaccines.
And suddenly the narrative changed.
Completely.
The plandemic/scamdemic wiped out.
Like chalk off a blackboard.
This is a flawed masterpiece.
Like the dent in Sara Luna Zorić’s forehead.
This film is a masterpiece.
This film is an utter masterpiece.
And it is carried by Sara Luna Zorić’s breasts.
And legs.
And scowl.
And sadness.
And dented forehead.
This film is a masterpiece.
It ends like Pierrot le fou, in some ways.
It ends like Contempt.
It ends like Ghost World.
So can I be in love with Sara Luna Zorić now?
Yes.
Because the world is shit.
We must pick sides.
I pick Russia.
Fuck Ukraine.
There is not a more propagandistic website on Earth than Drudge Report.
Do you know what propaganda looks like?
“Putin doesn’t want his people to see images of the war.”
“Russian Air Force incapable of complex military operations (invasion failing).”
“Zelensky is the reincarnation of Rasputin.”
“Russian soldiers raping Ukrainian women.”
“Russia [who secured both Chernobyl and Zaporizhzhia] are nuclear ‘terrorists'”. [For securing the facilities. All while the facilities are undamaged and not showing a rise in radiation leakage.]
“Russia is planning public executions.”
Might as well throw in some chestnut like “Russia shish-kebabbing Ukrainian infants on bayonets”.
Do you see where this is going?
“Two more top Russian commanders kiled.”
DO YOU BELIEVE ANY OF THIS BULLSHIT???
The same media that lied to you for two years about COVID and masks and vaccines and lab leaks now wants you to TRUST THEM and #StandWithUkraine .
FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK THAT!
What are the possibilities that Putin is beholden to Klaus Schwab?
I’d say 1%.
What is the possibility that Putin is doing the right thing.
I’d say 99%.
But the only problem is this: it completely overshadows the exceedingly-successful “freedom convoys” of truckers and also makes it impossible for any news about COVID duplicity to make it on any mainstream news.
So the timing is, one may see, unfortunate.
The whole COVID narrative was rapidly collapsing.
The virus was burning out with Omicron.
Serious, serious questions about impropriety from Moderna and Pfizer were arising.
And they CONTINUE to arise.
But you won’t hear about them.
The Ukraine war is like a giant school shooting.
This will be THE ONLY STORY in the news for months.
Perhaps years.
There are two reasons that people do things.
The “good” reason and the real reason.
Why did Putin invade Ukraine?
Because Zelensky announced 11 months ago that his intention was to retake Crimea by force.
And why else did Putin invade?
Because Zelensky announced seven months ago that Ukraine’s desire and intention was to join NATO.
Any other possible reasons?
Zbigniew Brzezinski called Ukraine the “bread basket” of the former Soviet Union.
What is the only thing which could rival oil right now in terms of astronomical inflation and actual scarcity?
Food.
Wheat.
Food security.
Putin may be securing this bread basket for Russia.
And I don’t blame him.
But let’s look at some attack scenarios.
Ukraine –> Moldova.
No NATO territory crossed.
Finland –> Sweden.
No NATO territory crossed.
Azerbaijan/Georgia (or vice versa) –> Armenia –> Iran (joins Russian Federation?) –> Iraq –> Syria (joins Russian Federation?)
No NATO territory crossed.
Monaco invasion.
And finally:
Bosnia and Herzegovina –> Serbia –> Kosovo.
I save this one for last because it is the most germane to our film.
This film’s action largely takes place in Bosnia.
Language: Bosnian.
Invasion from the sea.
Order of battle as above.
If you like Romanian New Wave, you will love Take Me Somewhere Nice.
I cannot understate the importance of this film.
Ena Sendijarević did a phenomenal job directing this.
Shades of Kiarostami.
Sonic Youth.
Tu dors Nicole.
Taste of Cherry.
This is dark humor.
But there is no punchline.
That’s how dark it is.
Dark, deadpan humor.
Dark absurdity.
Banality.
Warts and all.
Balkans.
The forgotten parts of Europe.
Where it is a curse to grow up.
I always pray for the children and the elderly of Ukraine.
And the fucking Ukrainian morons who didn’t get involved in politics and prevent corrupt Joe Biden from becoming the U.S. President.
They bear some blame.
But we do not want civilian casualties.
Putin asked the Ukrainian military to overthrow Zelensky.
They have been very foolish to not heed Putin’s suggestion.
And Mark Milley was indeed at the Ukrainian border with 15+ wide-body planes full of Javelins and Stingers.
How exceedingly-foolish.
Russia has been unequivocal: provide weapons to Ukraine which are used against our troops and we will consider this an act of war.
Milley’s panties were wedged in his vagina over the “white rage” of Jan6, but here he is personally handing out missiles to Ukraine.
Why?
We have no defense treaty with Ukraine.
Our Congress has not declared war on Russia.
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!?
It’s the same faggots: Mark Milley, Lloyd Austin, Michael Gilday, Bishop Garrison…
The military is not coming to save us.
And Trump became a moron ever since he uttered the words “I got the Pfizer”.
Putin is the best leader in the world.
And this film is magnificent.
-PD
Last Night in Soho [2021)
First off.
I am in love with Thomasin McKenzie.
I think Saoirse Ronan has lost her touch.
Kat Dennings doesn’t even bother with films anymore.
And Thora Birch is too much of a liberal moron.
But then all actors are liberal morons, aren’t they?
Except for a precious few.
Jon Voight.
James Woods.
Rob Schneider.
Kirstie Alley.
Robert Davi.
Jim Caviezel.
Secondly.
This film is a masterpiece.
Edgar Wright is the best filmmaker in the world right now.
Is he better than Jean-Luc Godard?
No.
But Godard is not making films for mass consumption.
Is he better than Wes Anderson?
BY A MILLION FUCKING MILES!!!
Don’t get me wrong.
Wes Anderson made one perfect film.
And that film was The Grand Budapest Hotel.
And that film wouldn’t have been perfect without Saoirse Ronan.
That’s how important her presence in that film was.
Saoirse has made another perfect film.
Hanna.
But her others are mediocre.
Brooklyn.
Meh.
Lady Bird.
Even more meh (not a good thing).
Saoirse has gone astray.
Just as Thora Birch went astray.
Ghost World is a perfect film.
And American Beauty is close to perfect.
For my money, Homeless to Harvard is her other perfect film.
Kat Dennings films kinda suck.
Her masterpiece is actually 2 Broke Girls.
I’m serious.
But that’s not cinema.
Twin Peaks is cinema.
Even though it’s a TV show.
Histoire(s) du cinéma is the best film ever made.
And it was made for TV.
Homeless to Harvard is a Lifetime movie.
Made for TV.
It is not cinema.
Not exactly.
But it may be a perfect film.
Wes Anderson made his perfect film with Saoirse Ronan.
And he made a good film (Tenenbaums).
The rest are shite.
I did not understand Edgar Wright’s film language when I first saw Shaun of the Dead.
I thought it was crap.
How wrong I was!
Here is my contention.
Every Edgar Wright film is perfect.
Shaun of the Dead?
Yes.
Hot Fuzz?
Yes.
The World’s End?
Yes.
Baby Driver?
Yes.
Scott Pilgrim?
Yes.
And this film is perfect too.
But this is not quite the Wright you are used to.
This is a genuinely scary film.
But it stands up with Psycho, Rosemary’s Baby, and The Shining as one of the four best horror films ever made.
Edgar Wright films are all about detail.
But not the twee obsession with detail that Wes Anderson has.
Edgar Wright is overflowing with talent.
Wes Anderson is not.
Anderson needed Saoirse Ronan to make his perfect film.
And there was a bit (just a bit!) of grit in Grand Budapest.
Saoirse is missing from his other films.
And there is no real grit in any of the others.
Tenenbaums is good.
But the Wes Anderson players are tiresome.
Is Bill Murray amazing?
Yes.
But are his performances in Wes Anderson films his best work?
Absolutely not.
No more Jason Schwatzman (for fuck’s sake!).
Is Luke Wilson a great actor?
Yes.
What’s his best film?
Masked and Anonymous.
Maybe it’s Paltrow and Hackman which make Tenenbaums good.
For my money, Luke Wilson is the one who makes that film go.
But it is not on the same level as Grand Budapest.
Last Night in Soho is the Grand Budapest of the ’20s.
We’re in the ’20s now.
Are they roaring?
Like a fucking mouse.
Last Night in Soho is a gazillion times better than No Time to Die.
This film has everything the Bond film didn’t.
Substance.
Competent directing.
A story worth sticking with.
And so it is fitting that Diana Rigg’s last role should absolutely trump the death of James Bond.
The one George Lazenby film was WAY better than No Time to Die.
The death of love is more sad than the death of the hero.
Diana Rigg is the linchpin in the Bond franchise.
Pull that thread, and the sweater unravels.
Léa Seydoux is boring as fuck in the Bond films.
She was great in Blue.
But she was nothing compared to the one who carried that film (Adele Exarchopoulos).
Exarchopoulos made one perfect film.
Blue is the Warmest Color.
None of her other films are even good.
Wright makes what Youth in Revolt might have been.
He is not glib.
This is not a hipster film.
Michael Cera (who has made one perfect film [Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist]) is, mercifully, NOT in Last Night in Soho.
[correction…Kat Dennings DID make one perfect film]
Thomasin McKenzie’s obsession with ’60s London music is real.
It’s not a fucking Austin Powers joke.
Rita Tushingham is wonderful as Gram.
Excellent casting.
[take note, Bond franchise]
Thomasin hooks up with a black dude.
No big deal.
Take note, Bond franchise.
NOT EVERY FUCKING PERSON HAS TO BE BLACK IN ORDER FOR A FILM TO BE VIABLE!!!
Thomasin’s love interest is a black fellow.
I have no problem with that.
He does a good job.
For fuck’s sake…he doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page!
Michael Ajao.
Fine acting!
There can be important black characters WITHOUT A FILM BEING A WOKE FUCKING JOKE (like the recent Bond film).
No big deal.
Don’t make it a big deal.
It has to fit with the story.
The story is the most important thing.
The writers of the Bond film (Purvis and Wade) have allowed their name to be attached to the fucking pathetic shit of No Time to Die.
So you get a kiwi to speak in a Cornish accent.
GREAT ACTRESS!
Thomasin McKenzie.
Say that name with me.
Jacinda Ardern’s father (or mother?) was a horse.
Ugly bitch.
Ugly soul.
Thomasin McKenzie is the best thing to ever come out of New Zealand.
However, there has been one perfect kiwi movie: Eagle vs Shark.
Synnøve Karlsen is so fucking annoying in Soho.
And she was supposed to be.
So, good job (I guess).
Every film needs a villain.
And Jocasta (Karlsen’s character) is the real villain of this film.
Thomasin is different.
Jocasta beats her down.
Mentally.
A stingy spirit.
Can never share in any of her joys.
Do you know anyone like that?
But Thomasin is troubled.
Hallucinations?
Maybe.
Seeing ghosts?
Maybe.
We’re trying to solve a case here.
Cold case.
Maybe a lot of cold cases.
Maybe a serial killer.
To the Belle and Sebastian bedsit.
Salad days are short-lived.
Don’t underestimate Sandie Shaw.
Always something there to remind me.
1964.
Puppet on a string.
Gotta pay your dues.
As a wind-up bird girl.
Brian Epstein.
Giorgio Gomelsky.
Andrew Loog Oldham.
ABKCO.
The influence of Vertigo upon Last Night in Soho cannot be understated.
The red of the Café de Paris.
The blonde of Anya Taylor-Joy’s hair.
And Thomasin’s hair.
[also, don’t underestimate Bergman’s Persona]
The glance to the side.
It’s not Jimmy Stewart.
It’s Thomasin.
Allusions to The Way of the Dragon and The Lady from Shanghai in the mirrors.
Sure, a bit of Pulp Fiction.
But that’s just for the kids.
Edgar Wright’s grasp of cinema history is way deeper than some Tarantino bullshit.
And yet, he likes zombies.
And shitty horror films from the ’80s.
I mean REALLY shitty, camp ones.
Slasher films.
Back to Vertigo.
Kim Novak’s apartment is bathed in green neon.
But Thomasin’s bedsit is a red, white, and blue homage to Godard.
An homage to Une Femme est une femme.
Dancing.
Dancing girls.
Prostitutes.
Vivre sa vie.
Pink dress fembot.
Pew pew.
Thomasin is way sexier than Anya Taylor-Joy.
Thomasin is the girl next door.
The frumpy hair of Homeless to Harvard.
I love it.
It must be this way.
To juxtapose the transition to Swinging Sixties glamour.
Is Trump just culture jamming with his vaccine tack?
Either that, or the hero has become the villain.
Did the D.C. swamp make Trump into a swamp zombie?
Maybe no one comes out clean.
International law was broken.
War crimes.
All these Wright films have zombies.
Or robots.
Faceless automatons.
A bit of Dragon Tattoo.
We all like a good microfiche scene!
Is Terence Stamp her father?
If Sandie is her mother?
Could be.
Otherwise, she would be the daughter of a prick.
But Stamp tried to save Sandie.
Arsenic and old lace.
The ones you never suspect.
Sicario.
“Buried” in the walls.
Decomposing.
Poe.
Gacy.
Wright’s “sympathy for the serial killer”.
What happened to these people that made them monsters?
Don’t underestimate Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451 (his only English-language film…and a flat-out masterpiece).
In the world of Edgar Wright, it is records.
Vinyl.
Not books.
And sometimes the elderly want to die with their memories.
They are not going anywhere.
They are not fleeing.
It’s been a good life.
Going down with the ship.
Up in flames.
The shitbags want their deaths avenged.
After all, they were just horny, well-to-do dads who needed a little excitement.
Prostitution.
It’s the law, after all.
Murder is murder.
Crimes of passion.
By reason of insanity.
Not guilty.
Not insane.
But traumatized.
But Thomasin has been on the adventure.
She knows what Sandie has been through.
Trump was abused for four years.
That is true.
And he fought like a champ.
Is there no justice?
Is it culture jamming (I ask again)?
Confusion.
Keeping his enemies off balance.
Getting a foot in the door.
Truth Social will censor “hate speech” with a Silicon Valley AI bot.
In order to get on Apple App Store and Google Play.
But the roll out is delayed?
Lie about the vaccines.
“Safe and effective”.
Move in for the kill shot.
Against whom?
Big Pharma and the New World Order.
But we have to call out serial killers for who they are.
If you are saying the COVID vaccines are “safe and effective”, you are spreading misinformation that is endangering the lives of those who hear and trust you.
CDC: 11,879
Open VAERS: 23,149
Neither safe,
https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/safety/adverse-events.html
https://openvaers.com/covid-data/mortality
nor effective.
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-covid-deaths-2021-vaccines-b1963790.html
10,000-20,000 vaccine deaths should be read as 100,000-200,000 vaccine deaths because of this:
https://www.bmj.com/rapid-response/2011/11/02/underreporting-vaccine-adverse-events
And correlation does not necessarily equal causation…unless this (peep the myocarditis…you think that’s all JnJ? [nigga please!]):
https://openvaers.com/covid-data
But the election was stolen.
Or was it allowed to be stolen?
When will the other shoe drop?
Or does the other shoe even exist?
This charade is going to go on until 2024?
Maybe Sandie is not her mother.
-PD
Helpmates [1932)
Short film.
Really a little masterpiece.
Laurel and Hardy.
Like Steve Buscemi says in Ghost World.
As George Constanza said, “Burned.”
“Burned.”
-PD
Homeless to Harvard: The Liz Murray Story [2003)
Happy Birthday to Thora Birch, my favorite actress of all time!
Yes, I know…I know.
A film critic whose favorite actress is a young 35-year-old whipper snapper???
Yes.
That’s alright.
Laugh at me.
If the question was, “Who was your favorite classic Hollywood actress?,” then I would answer, “Lauren Bacall”.
But I said favorite actress of all time.
You can search my “Thora” category here on my site for why exactly this actress is my favorite.
Because otherwise, we’re going to be here all day.
And I have a movie to review!
One of my favorites: Homeless to Harvard.
It is, indeed …The Liz Murray Story, but I will be using the shortened title hereafter for brevity’s sake.
It is my contention (and I have made the point elsewhere…probably on this very site of mine) that Thora Birch produced a trilogy of acting performances which are more-or-less analogous to Bob Dylan’s classic trilogy.
Let’s start with Dylan.
The three (at unity from a similarity of intense expression):
–Bringing It All Back Home
–Highway 61 Revisited
and
–Blonde on Blonde
And now the Thora films which correspond in my mind:
–American Beauty
–Ghost World
and
–Homeless to Harvard
Sure…Birch didn’t direct these films.
But her acting is so strong, she might as well have.
By this point she was no longer a prodigy.
She was a mature actress. A master of her craft.
And the story here is one to really sink teeth in.
[In which.]
We recently touched on homelessness here in the review of Alicia Vikander’s stellar turn as Katarina from Till det som är vackert.
Pure.
But the esthetics of Homeless to Harvard are different.
This isn’t European arthouse. It’s a Lifetime made-for-TV film.
But don’t go running anywhere!!!
This is as gritty as any Lou Reed tale.
And it’s all real.
Too pure.
Heroin addict parents.
Mother schizophrenic.
Blindness.
Genetic.
Mother with HIV.
Father with AIDS.
Vice versa ice Ursa.
Father in homeless shelter.
Mother wielding knife. Vomiting.
Alcoholism.
Really appealing, eh?
But you gotta stick with it.
This isn’t Darren Aronofsky mise-en-scène.
It’t not, “Let’s win an award at Sundance.” Or, “Let’s sweep at Cannes.”
It’s more like one of Aesop’s fables.
It’s the message, man!
And so first, let’s honor the director.
Peter Levin.
Who knew a television film could be so artful?
Well, when you combine the history of Histoire(s) du cinéma with the precedent of Twin Peaks, you should know by now that television can produce good stuff.
Hell…
Your TV can even WATCH YOU! (as per WikiLeaks Vault7).
But I digress…
The weeper (no masonry) sob story…had me crying in my Junior Mints…we must attribute to the excellent writing of Ronni Kern.
Who the hell is Ronni Kern?!?
Male? Female?
I’ve had less trouble finding the gender of completely unknown foreign movie people.
But Kern is pretty invisible on the Internet.
And maybe there’s a point here.
- It doesn’t fucking matter.
- You should judge someone on their work, not their gender.
Hopefully Ms. Birch will appreciate this flash of liberalism should she read this review.
[I’m not holding my breath]
But we have just celebrated International Women’s Day.
And the fact that Birch’s character here is a “feminist” is a running pseudo-joke.
Which brings us to the performances.
Michael Riley is stellar, stellar (I know…) as Liz’s father Peter.
Kudos to the styling department.
That beard. And that hair!
Crazy, man, crazy!!
But Riley’s performance is really special.
It touched my heart.
Long ago.
When I first saw this film.
And dare I say, this movie made me appreciate my own family.
It made me miss my folks.
And so I salute Peter Riley and Lifetime and all involved for that effect on my heart.
Jennifer Pisana is really fabulous as the young Liz Murray here.
It’s an unenviable task.
To precede Thora Birch’s entrance.
But Pisana is indispensable to this little masterpiece.
Those sweaters.
And the full pronunciations…”Mommy”…”Daddy”…
Ms. Pisana affects the necessary naïveté to be juxtaposed against the sad schizophrenia of Kelly Lynch (who plays Liz’s mom).
And Lynch is great.
Think Cries and Whispers.
[cris et chuchotements…(( (( ((…et chuchotements]
Robert Bockstael does a fine job as Liz’s teacher David.
Very convincing. Excellent craftsmanship.
Makyla Smith is piquant in her depiction of Liz’s best friend Chris.
[God…the Magic Marker…and the pine box…fuuuuuuck]
Yes, friends…this is Lifetime Television.
So the brisure (bonjour, monsieur Derrida) is “crap”.
“Crap happens.”
Whoa…watch thy mouth, Kelly Lynch!
So again…Peter Levin does a fantastic job shoehorning a true X-file into PG territory.
We see a syringe here and there. A tourniquet.
Riley cleaning a spoon.
But the real heartbreak is Wheat Chex with tap water.
Yeah…
Hello Gummo.
Ellen Page has a small role here.
And she’s good.
Fine actress.
But we’ve been waiting to roll out the big gun.
Thora Birch.
On this, her birthday, I am only just now getting towards a handful of reviews honoring her unique thespian gift.
What to say?
That every look is magic?
That every glance is gold?
That she has crafted her microexpressions in solitude…and wielded them like an Arthurian sword for the duration of this flick?
Yes, yes, and yes.
[and an Oxford comma]
Because kids take it for granted.
Rich kids.
Harvard.
Penn.
Princeton.
Maybe…
But even more so the lesser ivied walls.
I won’t name names.
But the spoiled kids.
Not turning in homework.
Bragging about shortcuts.
Those, ultimately, will be life’s losers.
But Liz Murray worked her butt off to get into Harvard.
From sleeping on the B Train.
Four years of high school in two.
And Thora Birch has worked her butt off too.
She hasn’t gotten the roles her talent deserves.
But the roles she has gotten, she has largely smashed out of the park.
Like the Babe Ruth of leading ladies.
And so there are other actresses I admire.
But Thora Birch was the first.
The first to give me that magical feeling which only Neil Young has adequately described:
“I fell in love with the actress/She was playin’ a part that I could understand”.
Happy Birthday, Thora Birch!
And may all your days and films be filled with the joy which you have put into the world through your cinematic brilliance.
-PD
Groundhog Day [1993)
Same day. Really feels surreal.
Disorienting.
Wake up. Some food.
Tired. Moving slowly.
Pull yourself together.
And you’re off to see Punxsutawney Phil.
Cassavetes Shadows.
Same day. But different content.
Learning the subtleties and dimensionality of situations.
You feel dreaming.
Heavy.
And you do your job. Same as previous. And the next day.
Will be a carbon copy.
For instance.
You need to do the same thing the next four days in a row.
And maybe, just maybe, it will all work out alright.
And that’s starting from complete mental exhaustion.
Well, that’s how I feel.
About Groundhog Day.
It’s a damn fine film.
Harold Ramis as director.
But Bill Murray is the star.
He just doesn’t give a fuck.
Starts off as a cross between Ron Burgundy and Dick Tremayne from Twin Peaks.
But he settles into a surly sarcasm which melts faces.
It’s endearing.
Very few can pull it off.
Thora Birch in Ghost World.
Bill Murray here.
And then there’s the lovely Andie MacDowell.
I used to be so in love with her when I was a little kid.
My first celebrity crush (if I remember correctly).
I was just fascinated with her hair.
A perfumed jungle.
Certainly some Baudelaire in there.
Maybe I can’t say anything really enlightening here.
Because I’m really tired.
But I wanted to write. Needed to write.
And needed the laugh that great comedy provides.
Thank you Bill Murray!
Bill gives freaks like me hope 🙂
-PD
Pumpkin [2002)
This is almost a perfect film.
Because it’s better than perfect.
Like Napoleon Dynamite, what should have been a larf was generally a sobfest for me throughout.
If you’re having problems in life, you need to see this movie.
Hollywood is so denigrated these days because the vast majority of popular cinema is utter shite.
From the very beginning, Pumpkin is different.
We should thank American Zoetrope.
And for that we have to thank Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas.
Do you even know what a zoetrope is?
Well, I do.
And they did.
And it was le mot juste.
A zoetrope is special.
Let’s call it retarded cinema.
A more pure form. Slowed down.
Pumpkin grossed $308,552 at the box office.
No, I didn’t forget a comma and an additional three digits.
But the Bureau of Labor Statistics has no way of predicting the sort of inflation Pumpkin will experience in the annals of cinema history.
For any who have ever doubted Christina Ricci: this is her masterpiece.
As lead actress and coproducer, she gives a performance which goes deeper than even the esteemed Thora Birch in Ghost World.
Yes, this is that sort of film.
Indispensable.
I have overused it of late.
But there is no other word. Pumpkin and Ghost World and Napoleon Dynamite are not second-class films to such as I fidanzati. No. They are equals with Ermanno Olmi’s masterpiece.
But don’t get confused.
Pumpkin goes in a direction completely “other” than any film I’ve ever seen.
Sure…it starts out tongue-in-cheek.
It is perhaps a dystopia which is best summed up by the saccharine mise-en-scène of The Truman Show. But where The Truman Show fails (and that is in many places), Pumpkin succeeds at telling a timeless story.
The story is the cast.
[Thank you Marshall McLuhan.]
Ricci is a thespian goddess here. Real skill. Real goddamn skill!
But neck-and-neck is Hank Harris.
I can’t nail it.
It’s something I saw long ago.
At my college orientation.
A bit of Sam Shepard and some other playwrights.
Sure. It is Steinbeck. Of Mice and Men.
But it’s more.
Sweeter. More optimistic. More frothing with disgust.
All three.
A concoction.
Frozen yogurt and 1400 on the SAT.
Harry Lennix is indispensable to the story. [start counting]
He is the angry poet. Not a college professor. And this is not a class.
This is a poetry workshop, motherfucker!
Even Julio Oscar Mechoso is indispensable in his short role as Dr. Frederico Cruz. [where we at?]
But let’s talk about some buttresses.
Melissa McCarthy is indispensable (truly) as Julie.
It’s not an easy role.
And yet, she’s not as bad off as Pumpkin.
Who’s Pumpkin?
Is it Christina Ricci with her jack-o’-lantern-perfect bob–her Chantal Goya -meets- David Bowie Low surf perm? That one little curl…so perfect…all the way ’round?
No.
It’s Hank Harris.
He’s Pumpkin. Napoleon. Lothario.
But Sam Ball is especially indispensable here. [Ugh…]
He is Ken (actually Kent) to Ricci’s Barbie.
Tennis pro.
Spitting image of Ryan Reynolds.
Or Whitney Houston…
Anyway.
This cast brings it together.
Bringing it all back home are directors Anthony Abrams and Adam Larson Broder (neither of whom have a Wikipedia page).
BLOODY HELL, HOLLYWOOD! HOW COULD YOU CHURN OUT SO MANY FILMS AND NOT SEE THE BRILLIANCE OF THESE TWO BLOKES!?!?!?!?!
But in the end it’s just Ricci and Hank Harris.
The brilliance of a duo.
A truly timeless film.
I’m inclined to agree with many (including Dr. Steve Pieczenik) that Adam Lanza did not exist.
But Pumpkin Romanoff (a nod to Michael Romanoff, the storied Lithuanian restaurateur of 1940s/50s Hollywood?) most certainly did exist. For me. Tonight. When I needed him most.
This is immortality.
-PD
雨月物語 [1953)
[UGETSU (1953)]
We can’t imagine.
A place across the globe.
We think of Japan as Mars.
For humble people like ourselves it is too much to dream.
To visit such a place.
It is not on our trend line. Our linear regression. It would be unprecedented.
But that is not completely true.
We thought we would never see Paris.
And though we only saw it for an hour (!)…we saw it.
Ten years of dreaming for an hour.
That is the moral of Ugetsu by Japan’s finest director Kenji Mizoguchi.
It would be lucky (88) if I’d stopped there.
That is also the moral of Ugetsu by Kenji Mizoguchi.
We seek too much.
The American dream is poisonous.
An ambition above and beyond what is truly valuable.
Family and love.
These close things.
Simple.
May Buddha have mercy on my soul.
You can’t go home again?
Then it is a miracle.
That you saw the light.
A little flicker in a black and white movie.
It doesn’t take a genius to know that it’s going to rain.
When the sky is full of fat, dark clouds.
And the air is moist.
And some faint droplets touch your windshield.
It doesn’t take a genius to know a war is coming.
Those Jews who were smart and fled Germany.
In time.
Before it was too late.
CODOH would beg to differ. On many points.
But we are humble people.
We dig a little hole in the dirt to have our fire in the forest.
Because the troops have overrun the town.
In cinema. In the 1950s. In black and white. In a language we don’t understand.
It is the opposite of spectacle. It is downright boring.
We are made to be bored. At this point. Society has engineered us thusly.
But push on with me as we relive the Tales of Moonlight and Rain (雨月物語) by Ueda Akinari.
1776.
Ghost world.
Spirits…begging you to join.
Leave your life of love.
Fall delirious onto the lawn of paradise.
And all the while your family is back home. Away. Neglected.
Oh, it is hard words.
I am a lucky survivor. From Warsaw. From the war I saw…
The geopolitical forces seethe and push against pockets of give.
Hotspots.
Lands which can be overrun.
A war of inches.
Trenches.
They own a day of the week.
But we thank our lucky stars for a second chance.
I am but a poor, humble servant of humanity.
I am against no one.
On principle.
Waking up.
With no hate.
Greet the new day and shake hands with the merchant.
Caress the cheek of the child of the world.
In a glance.
That is called a smile.
I have no grand plans.
My hands are tired.
May Buddha have mercy on my soul.
-PD
The Private Eyes [1980)
This film holds a special place in my heart.
I was blessed to have wonderful parents growing up.
This is a film we enjoyed as a family on many occasions.
When our extended family got together we would also share in the laughs from this little masterpiece.
Yes, Tim Conway and Don Knotts are essentially two Jacques Clouseaux in the same movie.
Knotts is a bit more of the straight man (in comedy parlance), but both are fumbling/bumbling idiots.
And that is, of course, why we love them.
Though The Private Eyes borrows heavily from the Pink Panther series, it has a charm of its own.
Filmed at the historic Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina (the largest privately-owned mansion in the U.S.), The Private Eyes is a good-natured film full of secret passageways and “spooky” scenes which are tame enough for a young audience. In fact, I would heartily recommend this as a Halloween movie fit for all ages.
Directed by Lang Elliott (who doesn’t even have a stub [red link] on Wikipedia), this film has aged fairly well. The only drawback is if one is familiar with Peter Sellers’ oeuvre. That’s the sad part about watching a plethora of films. On the one hand you see where all the influences came from (and that, in itself, is rewarding). On the other hand, you see where all the influences came from (and said influences might oft times be a bit too liberally lifted).
Ah, but this is the movies 🙂 Not cinema. Not hoighty-toighty. Hell, I don’t even know if I spelled that right. And I’m not gonna look. Because that’s entertainment. You just go with it. Comedy. Make ’em laugh!
Special mention should go to the sultry Trisha Noble who plays the role of Phyllis Morley. You might know her as Padmé’s mother in Revenge of the Sith. [Sorry, I refuse to write the whole title of that atrocious Star Wars film.]
Also worth mention (in the same vein) is Suzy Mandel who plays Hilda.
John Fujioka is quite funny as the samurai chef Mr. Uwatsum. His rapport with Tim Conway is pretty priceless.
Bernard Fox is very convincing as the insane butler Justin.
But let’s get to the point, shall we? Grace Zabriskie is certainly perfect in the part of Nanny (very Lotte Lenya) [not to be confused with Alotta Fagina], but…
we should dedicate this review to the late Irwin Keyes who played the role of Jock (Jacques?) the hunchback. Such a pithy role to portray a man with no tongue. And Irwin did it well. Mr. Keyes passed away only a few months ago and so it is appropriate that we honor his small but important contribution to this timelessly enjoyable film.
But remember, kids…next time someone asks you why you painted a picture of Don Knotts, just tell ’em (like Enid Coleslaw in Ghost World), “Because…I just, like Don Knotts.” Take it from Thora Birch… She has the right idea! And if they still don’t leave you alone, tell ’em about wookalars 🙂 [boy, oh boy, oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy…this buzzard pus is really starting to back up on me…]
-PD
paulydeathwish 