tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222684342024-03-06T23:29:13.950-08:00The Evening Class"Cinema is the evening class for discriminating adults."--Ousmane SembeneMichael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comBlogger1921125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-53724117635905051242023-03-20T09:04:00.006-07:002023-03-20T09:54:52.663-07:00TREEFORT 11 / WINDOW WALK—The Evening Class Profile of Walter Gerald<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxrezs3dNRwW1u33rxdF1nykpwMZBwxqdGNmNOCtZnU9mt2eNBYY7Fs-X3KplWp8MPK9dUNkklVq0uXDr1KYoj-hXkL_kBfALXlZjffReEd8VxFbxTkSb3LAf5hwR4Tr3GN6OG2ecQ36_VyH8IOqrr4dL2w7zW5bmoLZQLprTZl_C8o9Nig/s3754/@_Boise,%20Idaho_031823_Treefort%2011_Bus%20Station%2001_MJH.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1903" data-original-width="3754" height="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxrezs3dNRwW1u33rxdF1nykpwMZBwxqdGNmNOCtZnU9mt2eNBYY7Fs-X3KplWp8MPK9dUNkklVq0uXDr1KYoj-hXkL_kBfALXlZjffReEd8VxFbxTkSb3LAf5hwR4Tr3GN6OG2ecQ36_VyH8IOqrr4dL2w7zW5bmoLZQLprTZl_C8o9Nig/w400-h203/@_Boise,%20Idaho_031823_Treefort%2011_Bus%20Station%2001_MJH.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>It’s the Window Walk on First Thursday that, for me, annually launches Treefort where muralists and downtown businesses combine forces to offer Boiseans a street gallery throughout the month of March. This year Treefort partnered with 30+ artists to ramp up the Treefort spirit and get the party started. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpHF5VhAkDoMyUBjhU_h_J7-wYO4SaHOHAXruOcWXtdnn5xcT1LPaRf4pehXaLIRLjqrsS-loeZml1YHYSzB5u8VEtrCd28jDKlITQXgpQNgfvfkgI_Jw28EUwO_7E1oIjvKJYehsWRsfQw3amK0X50AWO_qrgAgc6Lmq_J1IaCvJgLgYSw/s3798/@_Boise,%20Idaho_031823_Treefort%2011_Bus%20Station%2003_MJH.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2514" data-original-width="3798" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpHF5VhAkDoMyUBjhU_h_J7-wYO4SaHOHAXruOcWXtdnn5xcT1LPaRf4pehXaLIRLjqrsS-loeZml1YHYSzB5u8VEtrCd28jDKlITQXgpQNgfvfkgI_Jw28EUwO_7E1oIjvKJYehsWRsfQw3amK0X50AWO_qrgAgc6Lmq_J1IaCvJgLgYSw/w400-h265/@_Boise,%20Idaho_031823_Treefort%2011_Bus%20Station%2003_MJH.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Treefort does an open call and application process for muralists who submit their portfolios so that the organizers of Artfort can glean a general sense of their style. Once selected, they are then paired with a venue. Then it’s up to the artist and the venue to decide on the content of the mural. For Treefort 10, Walter Gerald was paired with Barbarian and for Treefort 11, along with Quincee Lark, Gerald provided the window work for the Bus Station, one of Treefort’s newest music venues. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjiRr43Okx2zJho2fJUYoxD9lHu4N_aDXWod5eGvoMmg8ErcXsXp9tvyg78xDp7nGufOa3ZGRNQHK43VWgtGt_ywenj4lHzDHgGvU2n0t27nsNHPo3ScGt8aUQ77nWhK3l51h_MVV82B7ciLiDXwLaCepk-0rbFHyz3eH5c20p_Nedcz8AHg/s500/gerald.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="500" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjiRr43Okx2zJho2fJUYoxD9lHu4N_aDXWod5eGvoMmg8ErcXsXp9tvyg78xDp7nGufOa3ZGRNQHK43VWgtGt_ywenj4lHzDHgGvU2n0t27nsNHPo3ScGt8aUQ77nWhK3l51h_MVV82B7ciLiDXwLaCepk-0rbFHyz3eH5c20p_Nedcz8AHg/s320/gerald.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Walter Gerald is an animator and illustrator based in Boise, Idaho. Credits for his formal education go to The University of South Carolina’s School of Journalism and Mass Communication, The School of Motion, and Youtube University. When not immersed in the next great visual storytelling adventure, he enjoys cycling, drinking wine on patios and the consumption of baked goods. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDHL3VJRqjjaSo38Q0WWGIrPb0imHmry2oPmnhOo9M4MPtIpahLmvqdMKTIPBVEdjrq4grqChL16w7LpEBKxmG8SwqiFfAnymmZPBbWH_fWj6HY17Bivczez6RhHgDS-BWKP92r0DiHQRCq_I-3-Ny_rUIgOcDaU-9OJQA-XALrabZXA0FA/s3508/~_TF10_Barbarian_Walter,%20Gerald_02_left%20panel.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2430" data-original-width="3508" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrDHL3VJRqjjaSo38Q0WWGIrPb0imHmry2oPmnhOo9M4MPtIpahLmvqdMKTIPBVEdjrq4grqChL16w7LpEBKxmG8SwqiFfAnymmZPBbWH_fWj6HY17Bivczez6RhHgDS-BWKP92r0DiHQRCq_I-3-Ny_rUIgOcDaU-9OJQA-XALrabZXA0FA/s320/~_TF10_Barbarian_Walter,%20Gerald_02_left%20panel.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>When I spoke to Gerald last year regarding his weird western offering, he commented: “As far as the content of my murals go, they are loosely inspired by vintage western and dinosaur adventure pulps and comics. They tie back to a sense of adventure and place, being out here in the (somewhat) American West in a different form than what we know it as today. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oDxfPHwER6mos7kcZGzGWDfotjzA3BT7URvwMzOaTZCj63cxZY1wgiL8nVLKLKULhLZ6wXNZF96nUvp1Fz4y3xQWTsEfTqvfyglvClR33Xh-4q4ANxVuWBweIJLNwVHDieV-g4bUynXQqpq5rvyyHUkNnZmKg5BPsvk5Y9sdmpGPMB1X7w/s3146/~_TF10_Barbarian_Walter,%20Gerald_02_right%20panel.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2388" data-original-width="3146" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6oDxfPHwER6mos7kcZGzGWDfotjzA3BT7URvwMzOaTZCj63cxZY1wgiL8nVLKLKULhLZ6wXNZF96nUvp1Fz4y3xQWTsEfTqvfyglvClR33Xh-4q4ANxVuWBweIJLNwVHDieV-g4bUynXQqpq5rvyyHUkNnZmKg5BPsvk5Y9sdmpGPMB1X7w/s320/~_TF10_Barbarian_Walter,%20Gerald_02_right%20panel.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>"Another part of the art deals with how the ideal of the American West has changed over time. In a lot of these older comics, cowboys were portrayed as hero conquerors, taming wild lands and wildlife, defeating the bad guys and winning the affection of cowgirls along the way. I think we all know by now that this narrative is all fiction and brings up and largely ignores a lot of complicated history that comes along with the real story behind a lot of these comics- Mistreatment and massacre of Native Americans, misogynistic portrayals of women, just to name a few. <p></p><p>“It was my aim in this art to take the cowboy characters out of their original hero context, placing them with dinosaurs to show that they are both items of pure fantasy and entertainment. Yes cowboys and dinosaurs were real, but the media's portrayal of them both are very similar. Anyway, I still have a lot of learning to do as a citizen of the west, and i hope to keep doing so through my artwork.” </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4ydQBqFR5qRJ60c-6obNrHaX0w8z-JSpe8K3Q2uhJaeju34YgiyYUn5m4pZTEUvyr55y5poHrPL_gwcUTnbOyBM05gKByRUPMU9oVI86H40BPEa-L04sLg1Dsiyh0QO_l1KtxQLQx8gtbe8i02dVQLQ2piEiKeE8Itglj-j0TwwTrWphdQ/s2508/@_Boise,%20Idaho_031823_Treefort%2011_Bus%20Station%2004_MJH.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2333" data-original-width="2508" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4ydQBqFR5qRJ60c-6obNrHaX0w8z-JSpe8K3Q2uhJaeju34YgiyYUn5m4pZTEUvyr55y5poHrPL_gwcUTnbOyBM05gKByRUPMU9oVI86H40BPEa-L04sLg1Dsiyh0QO_l1KtxQLQx8gtbe8i02dVQLQ2piEiKeE8Itglj-j0TwwTrWphdQ/s320/@_Boise,%20Idaho_031823_Treefort%2011_Bus%20Station%2004_MJH.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>For Treefort 11, Gerald and collaborator Lark have taken the ghostly reminder of the Greyhound Bus Station, pushed it through a time vortex, and emerged with images of a multi-eyed bus driver advising passengers to hold onto their hats as he cruises through the Treefort experience. This speaks to Treefort’s expanding vision, which matches its expanding range. I can no longer talk about the Treefort “village”; it’s Treefort City from hereon in, baby!!</p><p> </p><p></p><p>Artists: <span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto">© </span>Walter Gerald & Quincee Lark. Photos: <span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto">© </span>Michael Hawley & Michael Guillen<br /></p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-73992234942475752892023-03-18T12:23:00.003-07:002023-03-18T12:34:23.628-07:00TREEFORT 11 (2023)—TEN BANDS TO SEE<p>With 500+ musical acts scheduled for Treefort 11, the task of shaping an itinerary of what I’m hoping to catch at this year’s edition has been a bit overwhelming; but, here are ten acts I’m looking forward to hearing for the first time.
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFd_oi5Yh7TLtbGOstVLV7AZ_EzKcZHPj6O1eNOFMS00IrDQgVvFNZHE5qUiQMSe3STTa3Rt8pOjbL5boSzEcRRyyi4hx0KAF0Uig-DrQGSj2gUs_8FKbtux28vq_QqtWyfrot0RuxjzA6JQH7vM9C6R1HPralRGVbmfaHDZvXZTJm7BUK0g/s500/Bittermint.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFd_oi5Yh7TLtbGOstVLV7AZ_EzKcZHPj6O1eNOFMS00IrDQgVvFNZHE5qUiQMSe3STTa3Rt8pOjbL5boSzEcRRyyi4hx0KAF0Uig-DrQGSj2gUs_8FKbtux28vq_QqtWyfrot0RuxjzA6JQH7vM9C6R1HPralRGVbmfaHDZvXZTJm7BUK0g/s320/Bittermint.jpeg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><p><b><i>BITTERMINT</i></b>—Bittermint is a homegrown indie rock act from Boise, Idaho who got their start making tongue-in-cheek “bits” in 2022, and quickly grew with their self-produced synth heavy guitar music. Their bit “I Locked Myself Out Of My Car” made me laugh outloud the first time I heard it at the same time it tore my heart open in familiar anguish. It will be interesting to see if the band will expand these “bits” in performance; “Lucky” being their only full-length track available to date. </p><p>Bittermint will be playing twice at Treefort, first on Saturday, March 25, 5:30pm at Pengilly's Saloon, then on Sunday, March 26, 5:10pm at KIN. I was intending to catch them at KIN, but with the weather predicted to be in the 40s throughout the run of Treefort, the notion of an warmer indoor venue at Pengilly’s is becoming more and more attractive.</p><p></p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7nukivr432I" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i> </i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiN-NN3c7GMYKcynTJciSFwvpAEO6hTXTBCxD_r62G4fJ-Te-dOTPiplQCm0TKfB_qapI5ym7dGZZU4qnq5B79rjWWOJMT8BisLT8KgI0fn5WkcLBe48x9F6CcnSvn5Yj-o_a3YNLIp4AseHc7rCrJRZetmRicQ_vbVTdbc1Q9TITsdhUyVg/s500/Cal%20In%20Red.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiN-NN3c7GMYKcynTJciSFwvpAEO6hTXTBCxD_r62G4fJ-Te-dOTPiplQCm0TKfB_qapI5ym7dGZZU4qnq5B79rjWWOJMT8BisLT8KgI0fn5WkcLBe48x9F6CcnSvn5Yj-o_a3YNLIp4AseHc7rCrJRZetmRicQ_vbVTdbc1Q9TITsdhUyVg/s320/Cal%20In%20Red.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>CAL IN RED</i></b>—Cal in Red is an indie pop/rock project started by brothers Connor and Kendall Wright out of Grand Rapids, Michigan. The band is named after their youngest brother Cal, who at one point had a particular fascination with red t-shirts. The band formed in the summer of 2019. The music was hazy and summery, jangly and guitar driven. The yearning, hopeful tones of these early sessions morphed into an indie-pop scape on their 2021 debut EP "Cellular" (B3SCI Records). After touring in spring of 2022 (which included a stop at Treefort Music Fest), the brothers spent the better part of the year playing shows around Grand Rapids and recording their second EP. This 6 song sophomore effort titled "On the Dance Floor" is due out early 2023 on B3SCI Records. It explores anxiety, camaraderie, the aspirations of the young band as they sonically open the door a bit wider. <p></p><p>I’m genuinely happy to become Cal In Red’s 1000th YouTube subscriber. They’re playing twice at Treefort, first on Thursday, March 23, at Old School; then Friday, March 24, 6:00 at Camp Modern.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ax2mb0zwlvo" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkruZSvbxSFTnqPZgzSZB3XwAxc2d7t5QCyHl-Vy_EdTgv78LiSXaKdcRR0febjJts9ruI0_NmrH4ZRLLWgza2cPmCksdkYqgC1eEQ0uapEnkTTD1DDwMbFeJbsWknQO8qDwESrZ871d8KFgRcR9I6cYTt4NZbYhEVPDhINJlrILt3bAUmIA/s500/Future%20Crib.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="500" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkruZSvbxSFTnqPZgzSZB3XwAxc2d7t5QCyHl-Vy_EdTgv78LiSXaKdcRR0febjJts9ruI0_NmrH4ZRLLWgza2cPmCksdkYqgC1eEQ0uapEnkTTD1DDwMbFeJbsWknQO8qDwESrZ871d8KFgRcR9I6cYTt4NZbYhEVPDhINJlrILt3bAUmIA/s320/Future%20Crib.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>FUTURE CRIB</i></b>—A five-piece band of creatives based in Nashville, Tennessee, Future Crib delivers dynamic performances that bounce between poppy make-you-wanna-dance tunes and experimental yet engaging tracks that prod at life’s shared realities. There’s a clear preference for good songs and exciting sounds over genre bounds and expectations, and this is evident on their album, “Full Time Smile", released in September 2021. Over all, Future Crib creates music for everyone, inviting all to a fun, welcoming show where you can feel free to get down. <p></p><p> Future Crib is playing twice at Treefort. First on Friday, March 24, 9:10pm at KIN; then on Sunday, March 26, 1:10pm at Bandshell.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qghjftglhrQ" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8udHX4wDc1DkAuLn1qV4Z6X6EbN1oOYavfBwzpbgc0PkI7pkxE6fg6uj-BCjFCJXuUbOzBZo1ZZtJeSD9htJlSxvm7nIThToABnFr-p-q278pCdmWIl3dfQmWnm_Y86dUVzEYvqskXt9VxnXWdtt3kEDBfkGym1UkZZclgz4a8XKExjv3HA/s500/KAINA.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8udHX4wDc1DkAuLn1qV4Z6X6EbN1oOYavfBwzpbgc0PkI7pkxE6fg6uj-BCjFCJXuUbOzBZo1ZZtJeSD9htJlSxvm7nIThToABnFr-p-q278pCdmWIl3dfQmWnm_Y86dUVzEYvqskXt9VxnXWdtt3kEDBfkGym1UkZZclgz4a8XKExjv3HA/s320/KAINA.png" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>KAINA</i></b>—KAINA creates generational music that surpasses borders, a unified expression of her native Chicago, and her Venezuelan and Guatemalan heritage. Her newest album “It Was A Home”, released through the independent label City Slang, explores themes of community and self-reflection while pushing the production and songwriting to a new level. You can see this on a full, colorful display in her NPR Tiny Desk, in which KAINA is surrounded by the musicians, illustrators, friends, and family who had a hand in the production of the album. “It Was A Home” is a celebration of togetherness, and collaboration while also being a project that is intended to feel like you're talking with your best friend. Her warm and inviting brand of cultural fusion was initially illustrated on her 2019 debut full-length album “Next To The Sun”—a project that established her as a leader in a movement of artists whose work hinges on identity and representation. While promoting this record, KAINA went on national tours with artists from Sleater-Kinney and Cuco to Durand Jones and the Indications, effortlessly finding a home in front of adoring and diverse audiences. From her debut EP, 2016’s “sweet asl.” to “It Was A Home”, KAINA has continued to push this narrative through her brand of sweet-hearted optimism, which she uses to uplift and build community. Over the years, she has crafted a sound that is gentle, yet full of intent, and built a songwriting practice that explores love, legacy, and ancestry. <p></p><p>KAINA’s sultry voice will be on loving display on Saturday, March 25, 9:40pm at the Basque Center.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wiOpLiukpp4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggYLFgFQ4kMLlObeDDcvDT05_fB84TGpp1hNbJQQDMDeJgkzoRV1eSMwI86WYGFZ5RPPwvLMIHt6AXfbjrnUlmCI6tJpFGt6NunnOq_xSb8jE45Juf5mkYUdbkkmw7F5en_Q4PeipGJRc-97jwFVmPQ2lqseGaFEat7rfzC0cuJLrdlBke4g/s500/Keo%20&%20Them.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="500" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggYLFgFQ4kMLlObeDDcvDT05_fB84TGpp1hNbJQQDMDeJgkzoRV1eSMwI86WYGFZ5RPPwvLMIHt6AXfbjrnUlmCI6tJpFGt6NunnOq_xSb8jE45Juf5mkYUdbkkmw7F5en_Q4PeipGJRc-97jwFVmPQ2lqseGaFEat7rfzC0cuJLrdlBke4g/s320/Keo%20&%20Them.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>KEO & THEM</i></b>—The enigmatic nature of Wichita, Kansas’ Keo & Them doesn’t end with the band’s name, it runs deep into the soul of everything the group does. Formed in 2018 by Keo, the collective features a revolving cast of players who, one way or another leave an indelible mark. “It’s one of the contradictions of the band,” says Keo, “I’m the constant but everybody who comes through adds something, some dimension that gives me room to explore different areas.” <p></p><p>Keo & Them plays twice at Treefort; first on Thursday, March 23, 8:40pm at The District, then on Saturday, March 25, 4:20pm at KIN.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Yw_vX9v6iyE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_nXsotAggzb2PaHOMcevtsiiGNszyZrSaJhCUAma-hXVF5vIQ45bbrrTUpVqn3iZDULa5K4T-wDoE205H-U-GKxWK0lppRX6Cft2J8_OZ153D5aVYhY9FN9Mhobf3GcVr9md2fSQODh4SLUJrN5Nq9b_OYO0aW__2QAQItvAS-UZeHMnjg/s500/Krooked%20Kings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz_nXsotAggzb2PaHOMcevtsiiGNszyZrSaJhCUAma-hXVF5vIQ45bbrrTUpVqn3iZDULa5K4T-wDoE205H-U-GKxWK0lppRX6Cft2J8_OZ153D5aVYhY9FN9Mhobf3GcVr9md2fSQODh4SLUJrN5Nq9b_OYO0aW__2QAQItvAS-UZeHMnjg/s320/Krooked%20Kings.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>KROOKED KINGS</i></b>—Krooked Kings come from humble beginnings. In 2019, a group of five college friends from the University of Utah came together to write music and play shows in backyards and basements. Over the course of the last few years, the band has proven time and again their ability to write heartfelt indie rock gems. After signing with Los Angeles based indie label Nobody Gets It Records in 2020, the band released their breakout single, “‘96 Subaru”, which has amassed over three million streams. By September 23, 2021, Krooked Kings released their debut project, “The Comedown”. After the release, Krooked Kings hit the road on two support tours with Goth Babe and Rare Americans, as well as three headline dates in Denver, Salt Lake City, and Los Angeles. Keep an eye out for new music from Krooked Kings in the coming months, as they wrap up recording their sophomore record. <p></p><p>Krooked Kings plays Treefort on Sunday, March 26, 7:30pm at The Hideout.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_6z7B4g3lNY" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCa30DfYs_WZul9OxIttbKht4kPPN2gxt_-d4PtSo0ubnumCF3AbC8qSrlTkJYFuGa99G6_3tI8zXh3nUydpSWvCjFYyxFqiTvvT9nYJyCs9YixY1dz2v4waRMIqSy7JHAoDd549C-p0auYrE-5tbCkm6LgEtdSYYqFJUE8qfH889kf25-Q/s500/Model%20actriz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCa30DfYs_WZul9OxIttbKht4kPPN2gxt_-d4PtSo0ubnumCF3AbC8qSrlTkJYFuGa99G6_3tI8zXh3nUydpSWvCjFYyxFqiTvvT9nYJyCs9YixY1dz2v4waRMIqSy7JHAoDd549C-p0auYrE-5tbCkm6LgEtdSYYqFJUE8qfH889kf25-Q/s320/Model%20actriz.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>MODEL/ACTRIZ</i></b>—Out of Brooklyn, New York, Model/Actriz is Cole Haden (vocals), Jack Wetmore (guitar), Ruben Radlauer (drums), and Aaron Shapiro (bass). Together, the band performs an intensity in their work that resembles a rubber ball approaching vibrational frequency bouncing between the points of extremes: joy and violence, humor and nihilism, flirtation and effacement. Model/Actriz is a special conjuring of gray areas without a whiff of indecision, with their newest project arriving early 2023. <p></p><p>Model / Actriz will intensify us at Treefort on Sunday, March 26, 9:10pm at the Hound Lot (Bus Station).
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0XDtunkDLDFZa3AX23Ydm3lacrpFE4bk1lZ_fvQKseoXvF_tyOL5TAgLIGXgoLfAueskZBUiGBT5HWzlcj53eMInjjVGtuARhZ8GonziYR-AoB5YSadZQebncr5Sz8EuxRkcHdbE7u1bZ5g3PA9NS-KMiUGH-FZfOY_so1D6Fa9xXOViLQ/s500/We%20Don't%20Ride%20Llamas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="332" data-original-width="500" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0XDtunkDLDFZa3AX23Ydm3lacrpFE4bk1lZ_fvQKseoXvF_tyOL5TAgLIGXgoLfAueskZBUiGBT5HWzlcj53eMInjjVGtuARhZ8GonziYR-AoB5YSadZQebncr5Sz8EuxRkcHdbE7u1bZ5g3PA9NS-KMiUGH-FZfOY_so1D6Fa9xXOViLQ/s320/We%20Don't%20Ride%20Llamas.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>WE DON’T RIDE LLAMAS</i></b>—Generation Z siblings, big brother, Chase (lead guitar), and sisters, Max (lead vocals), Blake (drums), and Kit Mitchell (bass guitar), make up the Austin-based band, We Don’t Ride Llamas (WDRL). Avid readers, self-professed nerds, lovers of sci-fi, anime, fashion, and nearly every musical genre from punk to funk, the members of WDRL cannot resist any good story well told, especially those set to an engaging melody. Having coined the term “shillelagh music” to describe the variety of musical genres they embrace, WDRL sings original songs they’ve written themselves as well as covers of some of their favorite musicians, ranging from Icelandic born Of Monsters and Men to legendary American greats, Nirvana & Stevie Wonder. The quartet finds a great deal of their inspiration from the careers and projects of seasoned performers Kali Uchis, Unknown Mortal Orchestra, Hiatus Coyote, and Lenny Kravitz, all of with whom they hope to one day go on tour. <p></p><p>We Don’t Ride Llamas plays twice at Treefort, first on Saturday, March 25, 8:10pm at The Hideout, then on Sunday, March 26, 8:50pm at the El Korah Shrine.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Rnl8mHDAMZk" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHfd71HoGGhcQZ7aYJon6MY-dmlfdtn3F43vyQz8F1CB7BgBMJ990kPhHDZ-QFWL8EXvmaj2MPvLWs2tpvQPaH87YMmtBIRV6lomH_2EG-F-TCa8Ee8Sl4r-nVV5H8fAl1n_fiWLONr6R81MWPPWcGZU14Daq4xgN4o82JG1s7zPJC0pZpxA/s500/Jane%20Weaver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHfd71HoGGhcQZ7aYJon6MY-dmlfdtn3F43vyQz8F1CB7BgBMJ990kPhHDZ-QFWL8EXvmaj2MPvLWs2tpvQPaH87YMmtBIRV6lomH_2EG-F-TCa8Ee8Sl4r-nVV5H8fAl1n_fiWLONr6R81MWPPWcGZU14Daq4xgN4o82JG1s7zPJC0pZpxA/s320/Jane%20Weaver.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>JANE WEAVER</i></b>—Abusing, evading and obliterating 20 years of whimsical pop trends, Jane Weaver’s experience as a truly independent and resilient female experimental songwriter/sound-carrier commands respect and inspiration in equal measures. From teenage Liverpudlian shoe-gazer to conceptual-pop mistress, has seen her graze with pocket-punk, Synth-pop, acid folk, indie-schmindie, dark-ambient drones, Hollywood soundtracks and girl-group psych. <p></p><p> Jane Weaver has a one-off Treefort performance on Saturday, March 25, 10:10pm at The Neurolux.
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<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgtcVH_H4yZmMHamkqNUVFA4ujVvnskjgmnJmeRRRMsbnV5dPwhT0tj5FE6ckNxobT-a5T1i9j22PpwiPnvd3kyhGLNp3XMTX6WQxFgB0bP5_ZK5c_W1q5ovY6yTf5iO0-mOc6wSJiafCAKaPCBdepbHfLImdDEkNRVybVFti-4R9ya2AXw/s749/You%20said%20strange.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgtcVH_H4yZmMHamkqNUVFA4ujVvnskjgmnJmeRRRMsbnV5dPwhT0tj5FE6ckNxobT-a5T1i9j22PpwiPnvd3kyhGLNp3XMTX6WQxFgB0bP5_ZK5c_W1q5ovY6yTf5iO0-mOc6wSJiafCAKaPCBdepbHfLImdDEkNRVybVFti-4R9ya2AXw/s320/You%20said%20strange.jpg" width="214" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>YOU SAID STRANGE</i></b>—You Said Strange come from the north-western region of Normandy in France, although if it was up to them they’d come from the States, somewhere between Texas and Cali. They’ve been growing their own Norman-spiced definition of psychedelia for a few years now, making their way on a historically busy road. Having just signed to Fuzz Club, You Said Strange are gearing up for the release of their debut full length, “Salvation Prayer”, out June 8th. When they’re not busy organizing the annual Rock In The Barn festival, which hosts a broad range of acts from the international alternative scene, the four members of the band work on their sound that was born on the school benches. What followed was the inevitable: rehearsals, gigs, festivals, tours, Bandcamp sales and, eventually, record pressings. All the people from the scene that they met on their way, from Poland to the Lisbon Psych Fest, through North London clubs and mythic Paris venues, seems to have had a major impact on the building of the band. That’s how, after a first EP recorded with Black Market Karma in London, they ended up supporting The Dandy Warhols on their French 2015 tour. A strong friendship was born out of this tour which led them to fly over to Portland, USA, to record the band’s first album with the Dandys' guitar player Peter G Holmström—something he had never done for anybody else but the Dandys. This first full-length is a concoction of heady riffs, haunting melodies and bright rhythms, half-way between 90s shoegaze and 60’s psychedelia. The album touches on the theme of belief, the kind that affects even the most Cartesian spirit; may it be superficial, spiritual, superstitious, religious or moral. This very-human interpretation of reality is meant to help those who seek to free themselves, dream or flee, and that’s what the band is all about. [Courtesy of Nicolas Jarzynski.] <p></p><p>You Said Strange plays twice at Treefort, first on Friday, March 24, 7:50pm at the Hound Lot (Bus Station), then on Saturday, March 25, 6:40pm at the Neurolux.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cAV8DxsXgwA" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
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</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-80170824926157828652023-01-27T16:04:00.009-08:002023-03-17T10:30:27.778-07:00GUILLERMO DEL TORO’S PINOCCHIO (2022)—An Evening Class Question For Guillermo del Toro & Mark Gustafson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5WBr2s2brxTccMjdr_0EznqlVJFX0Y8ni279mY6siiy9i90EFq5Ch80RmlUrpSg-ehdfjQAuWRqMV_yYOfp4jGjvSK3uUYotgRmco29Qh1UBvEORaEqOsusUuRCHzoryiVTyji7X-P-eqEr1-pIdA209tV8G_g2RUNUYofynYkpeafhfTg/s1000/@_Tissot,%20Jacques%20Joseph%20(James)_The%20Annunciation%20((1886-1894).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="785" data-original-width="1000" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU5WBr2s2brxTccMjdr_0EznqlVJFX0Y8ni279mY6siiy9i90EFq5Ch80RmlUrpSg-ehdfjQAuWRqMV_yYOfp4jGjvSK3uUYotgRmco29Qh1UBvEORaEqOsusUuRCHzoryiVTyji7X-P-eqEr1-pIdA209tV8G_g2RUNUYofynYkpeafhfTg/w400-h314/@_Tissot,%20Jacques%20Joseph%20(James)_The%20Annunciation%20((1886-1894).jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>As I approached the Christmas season this past December, I became curious about painterly representations of the Annunciation and discovered <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Tissot" target="new">James Tissot</a>’s version of the Biblical event, which depicts a blue multi-winged Gabriel. At approximately the same time, I caught the Netflix broadcast of <a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80218455?source=imdb" target="new"><b><i>Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio</i> (2022)</b></a>, currently nominated for an Academy Award® for Best Animated Feature Film. I was taken by how similar the Wood Sprite in <i><b>Pinocchio</b></i> resembled Tissot’s annunciatory angel. I wanted so much to be able to ask Del Toro if this was coincidental or an acknowledged influence? </p><p>My Christmas wish was granted when <a href="https://www.eventbrite.com/e/an-evening-with-guillermo-del-toro-tickets-510759022987?keep_tld=1" target="new"><i>The Guardian</i> announced an online live conversation</a> with Del Toro and co-director Mark Gustafson on Friday, January 27, 2023. My question was relayed to Del Toro by event moderator Ellen E. Jones. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * *
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimgFlkbE9eyiMKbZd5HNlGKAnCtUXmRC3BllFN9AebkEw_Gbrp09MElI5E1vNi3_NvzX_vqEApfSjadZ4CuDaw9YlxoDsiDU2sQtzpsBHLLftHelfEMhe1c47XV_uJVzT6P-ZUy55eiJGa8nwIorcMXA0u-onjrFhICsizKs6Z_BtiuW8nJw/s2324/@_Del%20Toro,%20Guillermo_Woodsprite%20from%20%22Pinnochio%22.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1270" data-original-width="2324" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimgFlkbE9eyiMKbZd5HNlGKAnCtUXmRC3BllFN9AebkEw_Gbrp09MElI5E1vNi3_NvzX_vqEApfSjadZ4CuDaw9YlxoDsiDU2sQtzpsBHLLftHelfEMhe1c47XV_uJVzT6P-ZUy55eiJGa8nwIorcMXA0u-onjrFhICsizKs6Z_BtiuW8nJw/w400-h219/@_Del%20Toro,%20Guillermo_Woodsprite%20from%20%22Pinnochio%22.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b>Michael Guillén: How you envision the Wood Sprite is wondrous. It reminded me of the angels in the paintings of James Tissot, particularly “The Annunciation” (1886). [Guillermo del Toro mimes applause.] Is this a coincidence? Or did Tissot influence your vision of the Wood Sprite?</b> <p></p><p>Guillermo del Toro: No, I like Tissot. I <i>do</i> like him. And I like the PreRaphaelites, the Symbolists. I like Odilon Redon who also used feathers with eyes, y’know? That’s one of his main symbols. I utilize a very varied vocabulary that I get from the history of art. I have a very good dialogue with art directors and production designers through that. </p><p>In Mesopotamian art the wings are carved in a certain way on the Mesopotamian sculptures so we wanted to give it a pagan / more-than-natural, uncanny, cosmic feeling to those figures, so we made the wings like that. There are arrangements of wings that are different in seraphim, cherubs, archangels and in many of those cases each of the feathers has an eye, representing a human soul, depending on the culture. In Mexican culture the seraphims have six wings and have eyes on every feather. There’s a little bit of chimera that is very Mexican on death. </p><p>When we were planning this, the way to echo the pine cone was on the tail of Death. The way to echo the two sisters was in the silver mask. They are both emotionless. What it tells you is that they’re not natural. The metal mask tells you these are not natural beings.
And, funny, I don’t think we thought about Mark Twain but we have a character with a mask. </p><p>Mark Gustafson: Yeah, there’s the mysterious stranger. He doesn’t even have a head. He literally is holding a mask in the air and it’s very unnerving because I think—and this worked for us in the film—we look at people’s faces, we look at their eyes, to get any kind of cue: “Are they telling the truth? Are they being sincere?” When none of that information exists, you’re back on your heels. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqmrFcDcZ-44fJp-lkpcGbfJIgVf_T8JWwGf6lM36jWNl4xO9M-oP_GwkKe7_auzVfb25JVJ5T9XsE0wjVyQIWp09oWZj2aCfdKZL_ehF6WqNetO6FPyTluTP9zQU-6B_ujczzB60vTq9yalxFd-tDBkwLhINvxe65uepPFUX2OWxP1gbDg/s1023/talos%20choking.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="564" data-original-width="1023" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPqmrFcDcZ-44fJp-lkpcGbfJIgVf_T8JWwGf6lM36jWNl4xO9M-oP_GwkKe7_auzVfb25JVJ5T9XsE0wjVyQIWp09oWZj2aCfdKZL_ehF6WqNetO6FPyTluTP9zQU-6B_ujczzB60vTq9yalxFd-tDBkwLhINvxe65uepPFUX2OWxP1gbDg/w400-h220/talos%20choking.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Del Toro: It’s supernatural and then the voice and the text that Tilda Swinton delivers shows more compassion. When we were watching a clip today at the BFI of Talos [from <b><i>Jason and the Argonauts</i> (1963)</b>, animated by Ray Harryhausen], I thought, “Oh my God, Talos’s face is a <i>mask</i>! That’s what makes him so terrifying. Even when Harryhausen wants to show him feeling pain, he does a gesture with his hands, almost like John Barrymore in <b><i>Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde</i> (1920)</b> [del Toro mimes clutching his throat as if he’s choking]; but, he doesn’t change his face. It stays unflappable. That’s what death and life are: they’re unflappable in the face of human plight. <p></p><p>But to finish the answer to this important question: when I talk to students or young directors, I say, “Please, please, make your vocabulary visually much more than film. And much more than just pop culture illustration, more than comics, more than illustration, more than fine art, more than architecture, more than sculpture, <i>all</i> of it.
The difference between the right word and the almost right word, Mark Twain used to say, is the difference between the lightning bug and lightning. I think it’s the same with visual work. If your vocabulary is not accurate and you are short of your goal with the visual design of a thing, you’re short. It doesn’t matter if you miss the leap by one foot or one millimeter. You missed the leap. </p><p>
<b>01/30/23 UPDATE:</b>
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<b>03/17/23 UPDATE:</b> My heartfelt congratulations to Guillermo and Mark for their well-deserved win.
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-sjLWE6EOUk" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-89563452885228567632023-01-19T21:55:00.006-08:002023-01-19T23:07:53.628-08:00THROWBACK THURSDAY—DAVID CROSBY: REMEMBER MY NAME (2019)—BOISE, IDAHO PREMIERE Q&A WITH A.J. AND MARCUS EATON<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqhDx5JUBlg-lSgCcqrfCZdrFd6LoAQfzmhOHt4qH3Xp8jy6tMWWFTKTpT6Bt3aVR33ed-VJIbszXVimhXdNI71J9OHhLagryxhVNXiXwe4Qsxwo3P53eTTyrkVLNZN5-hhiv834WNXkK_00Qa1be0-s5psS8qBL_tE8bVUt4LzHRxjxGxQ/s1608/Screenshot%202023-01-19%20at%2021-19-49%20David%20Crosby%20Remember%20My%20Name%20(2019).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1608" data-original-width="1084" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqhDx5JUBlg-lSgCcqrfCZdrFd6LoAQfzmhOHt4qH3Xp8jy6tMWWFTKTpT6Bt3aVR33ed-VJIbszXVimhXdNI71J9OHhLagryxhVNXiXwe4Qsxwo3P53eTTyrkVLNZN5-hhiv834WNXkK_00Qa1be0-s5psS8qBL_tE8bVUt4LzHRxjxGxQ/w270-h400/Screenshot%202023-01-19%20at%2021-19-49%20David%20Crosby%20Remember%20My%20Name%20(2019).png" width="270" /></a></div><p>With his first directorial feature <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt5884004/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_3" target="new"><b><i>David Crosby: Remember My Name</i> (2019)</b></a> emerging as a Sundance darling picked up by Sony Pictures for theatrical distribution, I was touched by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1740505/?ref_=tt_cl_dr_1" target="new">A.J. Eaton</a>'s invitation to moderate the Q&A after the film's premiere at The Flicks in Boise, Idaho. Evidencing "a large dimension to small actions", as diarist Anaïs Nin once wrote, it was with genuine pleasure and satisfaction that I accepted the invitation. It was great to know that A.J. was still the affable, accessible young man I met so many years previously when Bruce Fletcher invited me up from the Bay Area to the Idaho International Film Festival where Eaton’s short film <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2019/08/throwback-thursday-mix-up-revisiting.html" target="new"><b><i>The Mix-Up</i> (2007)</b></a> stood out as singularly accomplished. </p><p>There is a double momentum informing David Crosby's revelatory presence in <i><b>David Crosby: Remember My Name</b></i>: sometimes it is only in looking back that we can actually look to move forward. I had no doubt that A.J. would eventually create a document like <i><b>David Crosby: Remember My Name</b></i>. Each time we conversed over the years, he leapt forward in experience and know-how. When we sat down at the 2013 Sun Valley Film Festival to discuss the theme of cinematic disruption, he was already displaying major growth through his experiences in the industry. </p><p>Without question, David Crosby’s music champions itself, a self-possessed body of work that has evolved into a tight weave with the evolving psyches of his fans and admirers. That Eaton has created a filmic valentine honoring the man and his music joins the global outpouring of felt loss with Crosby’s death at the age of 81. We each have our memories. For me, listening to the Crosby, Stills and Nash album for the first time, along with smoking my first joint. Many years later seeing him in concert here in Boise, Idaho, and being stunned by his rendition of Joni Mitchell’s “For Free.” Then of course, my friend A.J.’s <i><b>David Crosby: Remember My Name</b></i> and the welcome opportunity to talk to him and his brother Marcus after its local premiere. </p><p>This Throwback Thursday is for you, Croz, and many future listenings, looking back in time, looking forward in time, here in the present everlasting moment that music and film provide. </p><p style="text-align: center;"> * * *
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPpl_asntpAQG6itlRYnDvWKZSbaR41AWMroNw1qK6hLKDqngVGaaJtmx8bvBKdi2tj0XTDboRg5mST3sUaB9ifobAQEpX9ggTL8eIU5TYloJLm631rBJYxotFwwTSaeGCKT3GdAZB6KZbXzMz5_7zYe9CLRmIfS0dcQHyXFP-3VDRruUJw/s1196/Screenshot%202023-01-19%20at%2023-41-22%20A.J.%20Eaton.png" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1196" data-original-width="794" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPpl_asntpAQG6itlRYnDvWKZSbaR41AWMroNw1qK6hLKDqngVGaaJtmx8bvBKdi2tj0XTDboRg5mST3sUaB9ifobAQEpX9ggTL8eIU5TYloJLm631rBJYxotFwwTSaeGCKT3GdAZB6KZbXzMz5_7zYe9CLRmIfS0dcQHyXFP-3VDRruUJw/w265-h400/Screenshot%202023-01-19%20at%2023-41-22%20A.J.%20Eaton.png" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A.J. Eaton (Photo: Unknown)<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Michael Guillén: I presume this film is as much a mirror for you as it was for me. I’ve been monitoring A.J.’s career since he started as a young man, so I’m delighted to bring him back on stage to talk with you. I’ll have a couple of questions for him and then we’ll open it up to the audience. </b><p></p><p><b>A.J. came to me about ten years ago, telling me that his brother Marcus had become involved with David Crosby. At the time I thought, “Wow, that would be an incredible film, wouldn’t it?” Eight years later, here’s the film, a Sundance darling, picked up by Sony Pictures. Could we talk about that inception? About Marcus coming to you with this friendship he had developed with Crosby and your realization that it needed to be chronicled?</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: Sure. Marcus and I met Dave when he was 69 years old. Marcus had attracted the attention of David because of his incredible guitar work. Marcus and David met and they hit it off. Having been around musicians my entire life, our entire life, there are a lot of people who will say things like, “Hey, I’m friends with Harrison Ford. You should meet Harrison Ford.” “Well, how do you know Harrison?” “I built his fireplace.” That’s not going to work. (That’s a true story, by the way.) </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLG7tJZ1AfGE6Is5uLtWksuIKf9tfHk5DNZJv3S7ch4teOk_WLdIz2eHBz3Aauy8PPEqV1ZQGxMKjkNaqOEPfxcV_9VQESuBxAjMnzYIQReHvewFphSY-d7o7d_2nuTs1Mks0nW5KGfBFvzjAwtoV_44UO3G186vouoP0g8ED3XyWct6g8Q/s500/Croz.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLG7tJZ1AfGE6Is5uLtWksuIKf9tfHk5DNZJv3S7ch4teOk_WLdIz2eHBz3Aauy8PPEqV1ZQGxMKjkNaqOEPfxcV_9VQESuBxAjMnzYIQReHvewFphSY-d7o7d_2nuTs1Mks0nW5KGfBFvzjAwtoV_44UO3G186vouoP0g8ED3XyWct6g8Q/w320-h320/Croz.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>When someone offers to make an introduction and the introduction goes as well: the minute I met David after Marcus said, “You should come over to the studio and hear what we’re doing.” Having grown up in the ‘80s and ‘90s, I was expecting him to be a drug burnout. I knew he had abused his body. The only thing I knew about him were the headlines. I walked into the studio and I heard some of the music that they were doing—a song that they did called “Slice of Time” and a song that they did called “Radio”, which were on this album called “Croz” (2014) that they were working on, which was indeed his first solo album in 20 years. I was floored and blown away. <p></p><p>I said to David and Marcus, “God, I really love these changes and I love what you’re doing.” And David, he likes to have engaging conversations that are about the future. He describes it as “his antennae are up”. He immediately said to me, “You like that, huh?” So we became unlikely friends. Marcus, he and I were friends. Soon after that I realized that he was indeed in his third act renaissance and so I proposed the idea, “We should shoot some footage of you doing this.” I kind of had a hunch and had a number of people encouraging me to do so. </p><p>So I brought my crew one day and set the camera and just watched them working. The hunch paid off. He’s really great on camera. He loves to tell stories. He’s a damn good raconteur. Then I said to him, “We ought to do a documentary.” He said, “Well, okay, I don’t have any money so figure it out.” And I did! For a couple of years I was out borrowing money and trying to shoot as much footage as I could because the truth of the matter is that this guy has nine stints in his heart now, he’s had a liver transplant and most of those only last six years; he’s going on twenty years. He’s living on borrowed time and he’s trying to do as much with that borrowed time as he can. He’s made four albums in the last five years and he’s halfway through his fifth now. Some of Marcus’ music is working with that. If Marcus chooses to, he can do more music with him. The invitation’s open. </p><p> I got to a point where I was literally going to lose my apartment in L.A. I had paid a crew and hadn’t paid my rent because there were some shots in there that were worth it. I got to a point where I approached a number of agencies and proposed the idea and they were like, “Wow, you’ve got Crosby’s permission?!” One agency said, “Yeah, we’ll finance it but you would have to include a bunch of our hiphop artists that we represent.” That wasn’t going to happen. Other people were saying, “He’s a has-been.” And I was like, “<i>Au contraire</i>.” Basically I got to a point where I was going to set this footage aside and I was going to work on some of my other film projects that were not getting attention: screenwriting, prepping another movie. </p><p> I went to see a wonderful lady named <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0563434/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr9" target="new">Jill Mazurksy</a>, the daughter of <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005196/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Paul Mazursky</a>, the director of <b><i>Down and Out In Beverly Hills</i> (1986)</b>, one of my favorite films, <b><i>Scenes From A Mall</i> (1991)</b>, <b><i>Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice</i> (1969)</b>, an Oscar® winner, and she and <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0009190/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_1" target="new">J.J. Abrams</a>—just a little name of a guy in Hollywood who’s directing a little film that he hopes makes it right now—she and J.J. wrote their first screenplays together. She has an office at Bad Robot, which is his production company, and—after one of these weird really bad meetings—she said she had produced a movie called <b><i>Keep On Keepin’ On</i> (2014)</b>, one of the best music docs I’ve ever seen. I was blown away because I just love that movie so much. She kept saying, “What’s going on with your Crosby movie? Let’s <i>do</i> something.” </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqbU-KxCLbveAFzPivaK7HR1_DSfyJ7Rt4B1KoeL5_AJqmigLHRl8s2GQN_nx3n3ZqZW8YKotMtEiCUeLTX5fDH8FEDsIRYIXjvQv7-2M-cgHETYsvxS4FJBkCC-dCFjIipGoxApyEXgZkgaGUTTuQmPPiwiFwF2HTz76pWaTTrPBjJJFKQ/s1938/Screenshot%202023-01-19%20at%2023-50-49%20A.J.%20Eaton.png" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1938" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVqbU-KxCLbveAFzPivaK7HR1_DSfyJ7Rt4B1KoeL5_AJqmigLHRl8s2GQN_nx3n3ZqZW8YKotMtEiCUeLTX5fDH8FEDsIRYIXjvQv7-2M-cgHETYsvxS4FJBkCC-dCFjIipGoxApyEXgZkgaGUTTuQmPPiwiFwF2HTz76pWaTTrPBjJJFKQ/w400-h248/Screenshot%202023-01-19%20at%2023-50-49%20A.J.%20Eaton.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A.J. Eaton, David Crosby, Cameron Crowe (Photo: <span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto">© </span>Henry Diltz)</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>I went back to Bad Robot to basically spill the news, “Basically, I don’t think the doc’s going to work. I’ve shot all this footage and I’ll sell it later.” <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001081/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Cameron Crowe</a> was there working on a show called <b><i>Roadies</i> (2016)</b> that he was doing for Showtime. That was like the lightning strike moment. I said, “Cameron’s the guy! That’s <i>it</i>!” And Jill said, “I’ll go talk to him. That’s a really great idea. That’s a <i>fantastic</i> idea.” So she went and advocated on my behalf and he said, “I’ll meet with you” the next day. <p></p><p>I went back to Bad Robot and I remember he was wearing shorts and he was tapping on his yellow steno pad. He has this iconic handwriting which is like the thought for <b><i>Jerry Maguire</i> (1996)</b>. He said, “You’ve got Crosby’s permission? That’s <i>wild</i>!” So we just had this epic brainstorm session right there. He said, “I can’t produce anything right now. I’ve got this show. But I tell you what, why don’t you let me do an interview for you”—because he could tell that Crosby was ready to talk and I was, of course, like, “Yeah, I think that would be <i>rad</i>!!” </p><p>The minute they sat down on a Saturday morning at Groupmasters Studio, which is Jackson Browne’s studio in Santa Monica, I had my cameras set up and everything, Crosby sat down and said, “Ah, Cameron, good to see you, man.” They’d been talking for 40 years. Cameron is the kid in <b><i>Almost Famous</i> (2000)</b> who was 15 years old and Crosby, Stills and Nash is the band that <i><b>Almost Famous</b></i> is loosely inspired by. So I realized that I was tapping into something that was far beyond me. They had a rapport. I mean, Crosby and I are friends, but Crosby and Cameron are 42 year friends. </p><p>One of the first questions Cameron asked was, “When did you lose your virginity?” I was like, “We’re getting places <i>fast</i>!” I said to the camera crew, “Get more film, get more data cards, because we’re in for a wild ride.”
<i><b> </b></i></p><p><i><b>Roadies</b></i> didn’t get renewed for a second season. There’s a longer story. I wasn’t even sure that this was going to happen, to be honest, but there was so much serendipity surrounding it all that I was convinced it <i>had</i> to happen—the move was <i>willed</i> to happen. I called BMG, the company that financed the film, and it turned out that Cathy Dong—who is the head of their film finance department—she said, “I worked for Cameron on <i><b>Almost Famous</b></i>. I’m going to call him up.” So she went and advocated on my behalf. After a number of conference calls and me pitching about how I wanted to do it, and how Cameron and I had brainstormed and decided we didn’t want to do the cliché rock doc with talking heads and famous people or people who maybe didn’t know him at all saying “He was so great; I love listening to his albums.” We decided, “He’s such a good storyteller. Let’s let <i>him</i> tell his own story. Let’s let <i>him</i> be almost the singular narrator for his own life, like he’s writing a long-lost letter to a friend.” </p><p>But, again, I’m walking around town like, “This is never going to happen.” I called BMG one day ready to make a deal that was going to be terrifying, like selling my soul to the devil or giving my liver to the movie, and they were like, “We’re so excited! Cameron Crowe called and he’s so excited to be working with you and he’s on board!” and I’m literally the last person in Hollywood to know. Maybe it was Crosby messing with me? Because he does that. Anyway, we sat down and did a number of shoots and the more me and Crosby and Cameron, the more we shot, the deeper he was ready to go. That shot of him on the couch at his house where he has this great Coltrane story that Marcus and I remembered from one of our great epic hangs in the studio, him telling that story, he did that and then five minutes later he said, “Finally, I’m free to die.” When someone tells you that, it’s pretty revealing.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The engine of this movie—what elevates it above just being a rock documentary (because it is much more than just a rock documentary)—is that it has a double pull. He’s looking back at the same time as he’s looking forward, which has an incredible momentum. What elevates this film is that you captured that. It could have collapsed into a documentary about drugs and all that but it’s actually more about what he’s doing now and his looking into the future. Can you talk about how you maneuvered that?</b> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FEHTmdKRzvarQv3CX3JoW7v1FXI_nKUs7DBUxA6cp2ZNy9EwmSIqGbtLa2zjEViaHt2Ec9cVJhCrxBpNNwp0CPcpgQvjuO_PINCI_X9sdw6lOOUb3Hy4bm04Ig1l6mBGai9oAzv_7wpNvLLZ9BYFx1DkTK0EKcZS_N6_Ldk07BxdnfrCMQ/s300/David_Crosby_Lighthouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="300" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1FEHTmdKRzvarQv3CX3JoW7v1FXI_nKUs7DBUxA6cp2ZNy9EwmSIqGbtLa2zjEViaHt2Ec9cVJhCrxBpNNwp0CPcpgQvjuO_PINCI_X9sdw6lOOUb3Hy4bm04Ig1l6mBGai9oAzv_7wpNvLLZ9BYFx1DkTK0EKcZS_N6_Ldk07BxdnfrCMQ/s1600/David_Crosby_Lighthouse.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>A.J. Eaton: Sure. Well, first off, when I met Crosby he was working on these albums and I could see that these albums were indeed like his getting ideas and thoughts off of his chest after being latent for 20 years. I mean, he was always writing solo material; but, this was his first solo album in 20 years. The next album that he did was called “Lighthouse” (2016), which had no drums, no percussion, just singers singing harmony. I think he went back to the Laurel Canyon era. But there were lyrics in that album that talked about Christine, the girlfriend that he lost. And it seemed that even though he was going forward in his momentum, that he was reconnecting and getting these ideas and thoughts out of his head, trying to make up for lost time.
When we started constructing the documentary, I was like, “Look, it needs to come off just like that, where we start present day and we know what the stakes are. Like we were constructing a screenplay. By page 15 or 15 minutes in, I should be able to pause and say, “I have to know what happens to this character when we get to the end of this movie. Is he going to come back a changed person? Or is he going to come back at all?” Rather than go chronological, we found in the editing that we could go present, past, present, past, present, past, then come to the end. <p></p><p>We had an awesome Italian editor, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm1304278/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr15" target="new">Elisa Bonara</a>, and of course I’m half-Italian and have a legacy of working with Italian editors, and we had some really great arguments. It was wonderful. “Why would you want to dramatize the Croz? Let him talk!!”
<i> </i></p><p><i>“We are!!”</i> </p><p>She has a European sensibility. There’s some footage of him on the boat where there’s nudity, but even more nudity, and she says, “That’s great! I love it!” </p><p>“Let’s just stick with R.” </p><p>It was really fun because I’m a former editor and we were able to take some chances that way.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: A quick editing question and then we’ll open it up to the audience. The animations in the film are intriguing to me, prefacing his flights away to the boat. Can you talk about that decision?</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: Sure. It’s surprising to me that his dad [<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005677/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Floyd Crosby</a>]—being an Oscar®-winning cinematographer—that there isn’t a lot of footage that his dad shot of him. I actually think that’s kind of a crime. </p><p>We found that there were certain places where he was talking that were key points—being fired from the Byrds, escaping to the Mayan—those were places that photos were not going to be taken. But there were other parts that were remarkable so Cameron was like, “We could do animation!” Again, that was like the two of us totally on the same wavelength, playing in the same key, and working in harmony like a good band. “Let’s do it.” So we found this guy, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2542383/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr48" target="new">Billy Woodward</a>, who had done work for <i>Rolling Stone</i> and had captured Crosby’s persona. He presented this wild idea and I got to direct it, which was fun, because of this guy’s work. You can move the camera wherever you want to. There were no limitations. We found those two scenes were where we needed the animation. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * *
<b> </b></p><p><b>At this juncture I opened it for questions from the audience. Carole Skinner asked about the fact that the musicians Crosby used to work with—Graham Nash, Stephen Stills—are not talking to him anymore and if <i>Remember My Name</i> might not reverse that?</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: Often people ask, “Do you think this film is a way to wave a flag to get them back together?” Crosby said he didn’t agree to do the film for <i>that</i>; but, I’m really proud of the fact that we were able to reconstruct the story where hopefully they might see it or other people might see it and say, “Y’know, I’m gonna call my friend that I haven’t talked to in 20 years, and whatever we did to stop talking is bullshit and we should call and make music together.” That’s what I hope for.
<b> </b></p><p><b>An audience member asked if Crosby had learned his lesson about friendship? Is he lonely? Does he want to make amends?</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: That’s for you as an audience to decide. I don’t think that he’s lonely. I think he has a pretty strong constitution and decided that, “Well, those guys aren’t going to talk to me so I’m going to make music with a bunch of younger people. I’m going to keep on making music because—if I wait around for that conversation to happen—perhaps it won’t.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: He actually provides that in context. When he’s talking about this, he says, “I <i>do</i> have friends.” That’s what I love. That’s this double momentum I’m talking about. He addresses the past but is interacting with young musicians right now so I agree, he’s not lonely. I don’t see him as a lonely man at all.</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: One of the songs on one of the new albums has a line—“Why must we be eternally alone?”—so I think he’s connecting with that and trying to grapple with the idea that maybe that’s it.
<b> </b></p><p><b>[At this juncture Marcus Eaton joined me and A.J. on stage.]</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: This is a really big thing for Marcus because he was playing in Crosby’s band and then not playing in Crosby’s band because he’s a guy distracted by bright shiny objects, but Marcus was constant. Often times my producers were saying, “Oh, well you can just use Crosby’s music”; but, I went, “Wait a minute. I’m an old score guy and we’re going to get to a point where we’re going to need to delve deep into Crosby’s subconscious. He’s heavily influenced by jazz music and nothing symphonic would work." It came to me early on that Marcus was going to have to do the score. </p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm9283483/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr12" target="new">Bill Laurance</a> is the lead keyboard player in a group called Snarky Puppy. He’s a big jazz musician. Marcus and Bill worked together to create the score. Bill channeled these ethereal moody jazz things—like when Croz is talking about his father leaving—and then Marcus made these great instrumental musical pieces, especially at the end when Crosby says, “All my friends won’t talk to me.” I think that’s the most beautiful piece in the movie. Also, Marcus has never worked for someone else, so it’s kind of a big thing for him to work for someone else, and then his boss is his brother. So he’s really come a long way.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Marcus, one element about the scoring that I think is very interesting here is that you’re referencing other musicians, like in the Joni Mitchell sequence, you definitely use some of her tunings and her chords. Can you speak about how you go about doing that?</b> </p><p>Marcus Eaton: Oh boy, I was not prepared. In the stylings of other people? </p><p><b>Guillén: Yes.</b> </p><p>Marcus Eaton: Well, Crosby was pretty simple because we had six years of playing together. I would go up to his house and spend the night, stay on his couch, wake up in the morning and we would play our guitars most of the day. I’d be showing him tunings and we’d just vett off of each other. When A.J. showed me this film, actually my first impression was that it should be just guitar because that’s him, that’s his soul speaking to you. So after learning his tunings, that was pretty simple for me because it was easy for me to channel into it: “Okay, I know the emotion but this will be a little bit more cinematic.” </p><p>On the Joni section, I went into her catalog and checked out some of her tunings, some of her changes, and I got to just, y’know, play around with the pieces and of course I had to run it by the boss to make sure it was okay. We were good, right? It didn’t take too long to get there. I was surprised; but, he pushed me. A.J. pushed me. </p><p>A.J. Eaton: That’s what a director <i>does</i>. </p><p>Marcus Eaton: I was going to tell A.J. to tell you about the Hammer footage. </p><p>A.J. Eaton: Hammer footage. Really quick story again. One of those serendipitous pieces. So you see this footage of them on the hammock. Then you see the scratchy 16mm footage of him sail. There was a guy named <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm13284559/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr79" target="new">Bobby Hammer</a> who was one of Crosby’s closest friends and he had a 16mm camera with him often. A lot of those film photos of Christine on the beach were taken by Bobby Hammer.
I knew that footage was out there. Crosby had told me a little bit. I kept asking, “Crosby, can you put me in touch with Bobby? Are you still in touch with Bobby?” Finally, on <i>Facebook</i> I found him. </p><p>One day I got this instant message and I said, “Bobby, I need to talk to you <i>right now</i>! I know that you have that footage and I would love to take a look at it and, I tell you what, I will have the best people in Hollywood treat it well.”
He said, “Well, I’ll have to talk to Crosby. I’ll get back to you.” Click.
A couple of weeks later I got this mysterious phone call from Monterey: “A.J., it’s Bobby Hammer. I’ve talked to Croz and we’ve had a gentleman’s agreement for 45-50 years about this footage, that I couldn’t let it go because it’s very personal.” They were sailing with women and there was nude sunbathing on the Mayan. He goes, “But, Crosby called me and said you’re the guy to have it.”
So I said, <i>“Where is it?”</i>
At that point, he says, “It’s in my garage in Monterey.” </p><p>We had this real cool associate producer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4313379/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr2" target="new">Gabe [Caste]</a> who was working for us. I said, “We have a <i>mission</i>.” So we rented him a car and he drove five hours to Monterey. Bobby Hammer is much older than Crosby, he’s in his 80s and not well, he fell down and broke his leg, he’s in a wheelchair and getting better, but…. </p><p>So Gabe was going through this guy’s garage that has like 50 years worth of shit, pulling out all these boxes, and Bobby says, “There it is! There’s the footage. That’s where it is.” Gabe sees there’s all of these film tins. If you know anything about film, you <i>don’t</i> keep film in your garage, even in a cool, dry place. There were carousels of slides (which are in the movie) and then there’s one last manila envelope and it says “The Box” on it. There was this avant-garde film he made that consisted of shots of Crosby, Stills and Nash rehearsing. He had put together this footage and put it in this envelope. The edits were put together with scotch tape. Anyone who knows anything about film, <i>that’s so many no-nos</i>!! </p><p>We took it to Fotokem and Technicolor and they just finished restoring the Orson Welles footage. The film got the white glove treatment and I have footage of them unwinding this film and we got one last play on that film. It if would have stayed in that garage for two more weeks, it would have been bonded together and you couldn’t have played it. That’s the footage of them rehearsing; him on the hammock and Stephen Stills going, “You son of a bitch.” That’s all of that footage. Time’s the final currency.
<b> </b></p><p><b>An audience member wondered if the connection between Crosby and the two Eaton brothers had to do with the fact that they are sons of another artist, jazz musician <a href="https://steveeatonmusic.com/" target="new">Steve Eaton</a>?</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: Absolutely. My whole connection to this movie is that. I fell in love with making movies by watching my dad write a song for a documentary. I fell in love with the idea of merging moving image and music together. I tried to work as a composer but didn’t do a very good job, but I did it for a while. I had shown Crosby some other things, some other cuts of this and he could see how I treat music with respect. After the movie has come out, I realized how tremendous and crazy the responsibility has been because his music means so much to so many people. People come up to me after seeing this movie, crying, saying “Crosby, Stills and Nash is the first album that I ever bought.” We paid homage to the big ones, but we also went for some B-tracks. That was also Cameron and I working in tandem. </p><p>The other thing is Jan Crosby. This is the first time she’s gone on camera, to my knowledge, and spilled the beans on this stuff that’s not easy for her to talk about. And have a film crew come into her house. But she knew that I’m the son of a songwriter and she knew that I’m not here to be TMZ. I’m here to tell a truthful story because music is the truth. When things were not in harmony in their personal life, the music was great.
<b> </b></p><p><b>An audience member asked what were the greatest lessons A.J. had learned from Crosby, not only as a director, but as a person.</b> </p><p>A.J.: That’s a hard one for me to encapsulate in what would be an hour-long conversation. Throughout this process, I’ve learned more about myself as a filmmaker and I’ve also learned, y’know, it’s not black and white with people. Crosby, himself, I see him as a human Rorschach test. Some people look at him and say, “Well, he’s a guy who’s trying.” Other people look at him and say, “He’s a jerk.” I’ve learned to appreciate certain things about him and I see some of his trying. I didn’t want to just do a movie about a guy. We wanted to do a movie about ideas and friendship and harmony and hope. </p><p>As friendship goes, Graham Nash was there for Crosby when he got released from jail. They went out and had a steak dinner. There’s other stories about that legendary steak dinner, but I wonder if these days such as on <i>Facebook</i> with people friending and unfriending if true friendship is lost? And I wonder if the true spirit of musicmaking like they made is lost in today’s autotune world?
<b> </b></p><p><b>An audience member asked A.J. what went through his mind as a director when Crosby, responding to a question, would take a long long pause before answering.</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: The trendy way of editing would be to cut those long pauses down. But we found a lot of times that when he would say something you could watch his eyes and they would <i>go</i> places. He would say, “Christine. Miss her.” Long pause. That would say everything. Finally, we found our groove. That’s how these films work. You start cutting and you go back and show it to a couple of friends, then you cut it again. Cutting away from his open moments to anything else is manipulating the truth.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And there is an old saying that cinema is thought. That the best films actually <i>show</i> thought. That’s what you’re looking at. That’s what you’re <i>seeing</i>. I think those long pauses speak to Cameron’s relationship with David. When you’re with a real, true friend and you’re talking, that’s often the case, that’s the way it works. </b></p><p><b>Another audience member thanked A.J. for making the film, saying that so many scenes took him back into his youth. I quipped, “Were you smoking a doobie?” Laughter. He then asked how they came up with the title <i>Remember My Name</i> for the film?</b> </p><p>A.J. Eaton: That came from a conversation that was between Cameron Crowe and myself. One of the first days that I met Cameron he had in his backpack what he said was one of his all-time favorite Crosby albums, which was “If I Could Only Remember My Name.” We felt he had come full circle. It was not “if” I could remember my name, but remember my name. It also gives a sense of sincerity and, again, going to that idea of writing a letter to a long-lost friend.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: We need to wrap up. I want to thank you, Marcus, for the friendship you developed with Crosby that you then brought to your brother, and A.J., I just have to commend you on your tenacity and persistence. We’ll leave you with the bottom line review in <i>The Hollywood Reporter</i>, which said: “This film teaches its children well.</b>
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-74092763745957553172023-01-07T10:27:00.004-08:002023-01-07T10:38:56.124-08:00REVIEW: IKIRU (1952) / LIVING (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_iavBLts9hV94kzY4foldwpvcgLbY7m7Uq1Anf2OVVUVq7YsRfYxyAAgWWVQJGrR_c-2_F9tbuSItGnvcQboqp4QG8jksA_Qsh6Foq1DU8J3myCsy9mXI-ALLYg7nbykO70a6CfJM-5GDg1v93A5Wmbext7RT_2bPeDnqupuchCprupZMg/s1608/Screenshot%202023-01-06%20at%2019-49-50%20Living%20(2022).png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1608" data-original-width="1090" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_iavBLts9hV94kzY4foldwpvcgLbY7m7Uq1Anf2OVVUVq7YsRfYxyAAgWWVQJGrR_c-2_F9tbuSItGnvcQboqp4QG8jksA_Qsh6Foq1DU8J3myCsy9mXI-ALLYg7nbykO70a6CfJM-5GDg1v93A5Wmbext7RT_2bPeDnqupuchCprupZMg/w271-h400/Screenshot%202023-01-06%20at%2019-49-50%20Living%20(2022).png" width="271" /></a></div><p>In the program notes for the California premiere of <a href="https://www.sonyclassics.com/film/living/" target="new"><b><i>Living</i> (2022)</b></a> at the 45th edition of the <a href="https://www.mvff.com/events/living/" target="new">Mill Valley Film Festival</a>, David Riedel synopsized: “This beautiful drama, written by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0410958/?ref_=tt_ov_wr" target="new">Kazuo Ishiguro</a> (<i><b>The Remains of the Day</b></i>) and directed by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3564996/?ref_=tt_ov_dr" target="new">Oliver Hermanus</a> (<i><b>Moffie</b></i>), poses a question: How does a repressed and ineffectual bureaucrat respond when he learns he has only six months to live? Mr. Williams is the most buttoned-up of individuals, but he decides that the time has arrived to assert himself, change a few lives, and inspire a few others—quietly, of course. As played by the incomparable <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0631490/?ref_=tt_cl_t_1" target="new">Bill Nighy</a>, Mr. Williams’ every muted tic, soft breath, and forlorn expression says more than words can convey. This is someone filled with regret for a life not lived and a future he won’t have. With stunning camera work, wonderful performances, and a beautiful sadness that is never morose, <i><b>Living</b></i> examines what happens when a man realizes he has long avoided the very things that give his life meaning.” </p><p>When I was a full scholar with the <a href="https://sfjung.org/" target="new">C.G. Jung Institute of San Francisco</a>, I learned about Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious and the role that archetypes played in predisposing one’s attitudes towards life. There are, of course, a certain number of archetypes laid out in his postulation of archetypal psychology, but among them there is only one hyphenated pairing: that joining the archetype of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Puer_aeternus" target="new"><i>puer</i></a>, or eternal child, and the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wise_old_man" target="new"><i>senex</i></a>, the old man. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Hillman" target="new">James Hillman</a> went so far as to propose that this dyadic archetype was the most important of all the archetypes.
The <i>puer-senex</i> dyad has certainly been the most important archetype governing <i>my</i> life, reflected in how I got along best with those older than me when I was young and—now that I am old—my increasing reliance on the company of the young. An energy passes between these stations in life that defines the energy of life itself. That archetypal energy thrums beautifully throughout <b><i>Living</i> (2022)</b>, a Sony Pictures release that opens today at Landmark’s Opera Plaza Cinemas, San Francisco, and rolls out in other Bay Area locations in following weeks throughout January. <i><b>Living</b></i> opens at <a href="https://www.theflicksboise.com/coming-attractions/item/1158-living" target="new">The Flicks</a> in Boise, Idaho on January 27, 2023. </p><p>Oliver Hermanus, the South African director whose previous efforts include <b><i>Shirley Adams</i> (2009)</b>, <b><i>Beauty</i> (2011)</b>, <b><i>The Endless River</i> (2015)</b> and <b><i>Moffie</i> (2019)</b> has skillfully directed an adaption by Kazuo Ishiguro of <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000041/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Akira Kurosawa</a>’s <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0044741/?ref_=nm_flmg_t_55_wr" target="new"><b><i>Ikiru</i> (1952)</b></a>, which in turn was inspired by Leo Tolstoy’s 1886 Russian novella <b>The Death of Ivan Ilyich</b>. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdp6xqxQOIdv3fpxr9IOql_ZWIgCEULIuZOb9y4uZjWT2cc4BDI03J8V3lVvhKu6wxPVS158qV1nG2l1jl_IejCNtbWOc1vrwKFe3g3YzfBPcCff8Jj0ubJ0dUP1PPqh6FwvlmmMgwJrY81abllXXQoOsb1K-ZK3EfFa3iZblQe-KlMwaNpA/s1608/Screenshot%202023-01-06%20at%2020-02-38%20Ikiru%20(1952).png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1608" data-original-width="1064" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdp6xqxQOIdv3fpxr9IOql_ZWIgCEULIuZOb9y4uZjWT2cc4BDI03J8V3lVvhKu6wxPVS158qV1nG2l1jl_IejCNtbWOc1vrwKFe3g3YzfBPcCff8Jj0ubJ0dUP1PPqh6FwvlmmMgwJrY81abllXXQoOsb1K-ZK3EfFa3iZblQe-KlMwaNpA/w265-h400/Screenshot%202023-01-06%20at%2020-02-38%20Ikiru%20(1952).png" width="265" /></a></div>With regret being the illumination that comes too late (if not <i>just</i> in time), the “incomparable” Bill Nighy delivers an achingly nuanced portrayal of a repressed and ineffectual bureaucrat who learns he has only six months to live. As Williams, Nighy matches <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0793766/?ref_=tt_cl_t_1" target="new">Takashi Nimura</a>’s original portrayal of the timid and mannered Kanji Watanabe in Kurosawa’s <i><b>Ikiru</b></i>. It’s, in fact, a stroke of scriptural genius to align British propriety with Japanese etiquette. Both are complacent, overly-mannered and traditionally-postured systems of social behavior that serve a conservative conformity while leaving little room for personal fulfillment. D.H. Lawrence once generally described the British as being “dead from the neck down”, whereas the usual malignment is “dead from the neck up”, which signifies that someone can be very smart and intellectual and know nothing about life. Which is exactly the case with Williams in <i><b>Living</b></i> and Watanabe in <i><b>Ikiru</b></i>. Given six months to live, both have to admit they don’t know <i>how</i>. Through the influence of younger co-workers, both reach back to childhood’s resilience in an effort to redeem their wasted lives and—by doing so—change the lives of those younger. The <i>puer-senex</i> dyad in its full glory. <p></p><p>Again leaning into Jungian theory—albeit in, admittedly, an inexact way—<i><b>Living</b></i> particularly depicts a character in something of a “psychoid” state; <i>i.e.</i>, his relationship to his memories is palpable, present, immediate, particularly right after Williams has received his diagnosis and is struggling to process the fact of his impending death. It’s not that he’s <i>thinking</i> about his past; he’s <i>experiencing</i> it directly, not just remembering but reliving it, relating to it, turning to face it as if it is sitting next to him, or walking towards him, or talking directly to him. His reactions are appropriately startled. His body is forcing him into a physical reckoning of his past, particularly in relation to when he was happy as a boy and young man; when happiness in and of itself was his purpose. </p><p>Cinematically, by way of <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3280430/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr20" target="new">Jamie Ramsay</a>’s camerawork, the energy of life is understood through tonalities of color. The film begins in black and blue shades, with bowler hats, dark suits, and black umbrellas, a nearly funereal procession of functionaries waiting for a train, or—as one of those functionaries states it—as somber as going to church. Black, like silence, is the great equalizer that negates identity under the pressure of personal and professional propriety. </p><p>The first introduction of color is Williams’ purchase of a new hat after his dark bowler is stolen by a prostitute. He’s encouraged to buy the hat by Sutherland (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0121895/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t23" target="new">Tom Burke</a>), the young man with whom Williams spends a festive evening learning how to live again. This lightly-colored hat insinuates a new attitudinal disposition and is commented frequently upon in the film as being uncharacteristic (but welcome) in Williams’ appearance. The courtship of Peter Wakeling (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm5189784/?ref_=tt_rv_t0" target="new">Alex Sharp</a>) and Margaret Harris (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm10228854/?ref_=tt_cl_t_2" target="new">Aimee Lou Wood</a>) likewise introduces a world enlivened by color, not only in the landscape, but in their costuming. This use of color to connote change is a cinematic option that Kurosawa couldn’t indulge as <i><b>Ikiru</b></i> was shot in black and white, though no less lustrously by cinematographer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0620014/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr4" target="new">Asakazu Nakai</a> who referenced liveliness in reflected patterns of neon lights on windowshields. One uses the vibrancy of color to register liveliness; the other dynamic textures and patterning. </p><p>Composer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3604699/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr19" target="new">Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch</a> unexpectedly offsets the dampening of emotional affect with lush, romantic scoring and arrangements of such standards as “Yesterdays” (whose lyrics add poignance to the protagonist’s plight), “Alone Together”, “Coffee Time”, “Fascination” and “When Lights Are Low”, all strategically placed to further the narrative. But nothing packs quite the punch of Nighy drunkenly singing the old Scottish ballad “The Rowan Tree” which fills him with so much emotion over all he has lost and forsaken that he simply can’t continue. It’s heartbreaking and painful and instils in Sutherland, Williams’ young guide into the nightlife of London, that perhaps he too needs to take stock of his life and not throw it away. One senses that he has learned a painful lesson from Williams about not mistaking diversion or duty for purpose and meaning. </p><p>And as placement goes, I did appreciate the visual pun of the Oliver Bookstore in the background of one of the scenes. Hermanus’ tip of the hat to Hitchcock’s insertion of himself into his films, perhaps? </p><p>It was intriguing for me to watch <i><b>Living</b></i> and <i><b>Ikiru</b></i> back-to-back and—as much as <i><b>Living</b></i> was faithful to <i><b>Ikiru</b></i>’s narrative—Ishiguro’s adaptation is streamlined for more immediate emotional impact, reducing <i><b>Ikiru</b></i>’s two and a half hour playing time by 45 minutes. This afforded time to insert into <i><b>Living</b></i> two powerful scenes absent in <i><b>Ikiru</b></i>. First, the scene where Williams’ son Michael (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm10568064/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t19" target="new">Barney Fishwick</a>) gleans from Margaret Harris that his father knew he was dying and told her, but not him, expresses the anguish of a son who realizes his selfishness has failed his father and who will from then on carry that burden of shame. The second is the closing conversation between Wakeling and the police officer at the playground site where Wakeling absolves the officer’s guilt for not encouraging Williams to get out of the cold and go home by confirming that the officer was correct in granting Williams his one moment of happiness. </p><p>Those scenes were welcome additions to the narrative, replacing the lengthy (almost comic) scene in <i><b>Ikiru</b></i> where Watanabe is in the doctor’s waiting room anxious to hear his prognosis, and being warned by a fellow patient to not believe the doctor’s double-speak. There’s no beating around the bush in <i><b>Living</b></i>. Williams is informed swiftly, almost mercilessly, that he has little time left to live. An economy that allows expansion elsewhere.
In <i><b>Ikuru</b></i>’s wake scene Watanabe’s workmates proceed to get drunk and pontificate on the noticeable changes in his behavior and who should take claim for getting the children’s playground completed. <i><b>Living</b></i> reduces all that to a curtailed conversation in a train booth, which leads to the necessary question of what is this story actually trying to say? Is it really about being admired for what is left behind, for an accomplishment? In his farewell note to Wakeling, Williams makes it clear that what they have accomplished by building a children’s playground to replace a cesspool is a small modest thing that time will erase. So perhaps it's not so much about what’s left behind as what you do <i>while</i> you’re living, no matter how small or modest. Life must <i>happen</i> in order to be life. </p><p>There’s that lovely pivotal moment when Williams has admitted to Margaret Harris that he’s dying and expresses concern that like children on a playground where mothers have called them in from play, they have a right to be contrary and not want to come in. Whereas he simply sat in the corner of a playground, neither happy nor sad, just waiting for his mother to call him in. In that moment he discerned not only the happiness he had never felt as a child in a playground but the potential happiness he could feel by helping to build a playground for future children. What could be more tragic than to leave life never feeling that you had experienced a moment of happiness within it? <i><b>Living</b></i> feels triumphant—indeed hopeful—for allowing its protagonist that fleeting happiness, and thereby a life that isn’t completely meaningless. You can see this in William’s eagerness to finally do something and be part of life when he lifts his heels before stepping out into the rain to investigate the work site. </p><p>The structure of both <i><b>Ikiru</b></i> and <i><b>Living</b></i> has long fascinated me. Watanabe and Williams both come to the realization of what they must do before they can die. In the next scene they’re dead and being mourned by the living. But not only mourned. Questioned as well. Motivations scrutinized. The superiors want to take credit for getting the project done and resent that the people whose lives the playground impacted single Watanabe / Williams out as their hero. The higher-ups want to regale the efficiency of bureaucracy and not the passion of an individual. But as passion fueled by impending death becomes understood as the motivation, it become obvious that it was really Watanabe / Williams who got the playground constructed, working through channels of bureaucracy, yet despite them. </p><p>The spring to Williams’ step as he ventures out into the rain to investigate the potential playground site demarcates an old life for a new one, no matter how brief. As his co-workers come to the realization that he knew he was dying and was inspired to act in the time left to him, they become inflated with a forced positivity of his example. They promise themselves that within a system that basically values not getting anything done, they will buck the system and do what they can. But, of course, their hypocrisy surfaces at the first opportunity they have to follow Williams’ example. Why should they? They’re not dying. There’s no pressure to do the right thing when it is much more expedient not to. </p><p>The recognition of death, Joseph Campbell once told me, is what adds resonance to life. Without that recognition, you’re waking, working, sleeping, but not really living. Watanabe and Williams wasted most of their lives killing time with duty and responsibility, but each died knowing they had one true and genuine moment of life and imparting—in the saliency of their age—an informing energy to those younger. Margaret Harris and Wakeling, especially, have had their lives transformed by the old man’s vision, as much as he was able to find himself, through the example of their youthful vigor. </p><p>In cinematic history there are indelible images that survive across time and in both <i><b>Ikiru</b></i> and <i><b>Living</b></i> it is the image of an old man swinging in a children’s playground in the dead of winter singing a childhood tune to himself. A man doomed to die with snowflakes falling onto his new hat.
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-15437326558676633052022-11-22T14:30:00.005-08:002022-11-22T21:20:31.278-08:00REVIEW—SALVATORE: SHOEMAKER OF DREAMS (2020)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8P7CKM7PHRUUF6uwJqOXkQs50Ew_Pgv8o51oPUwPqzQWnq3iI8Kwu11sQTGWw1wSeEHDm8di22nZvKVJweBv82U1HXoJHHZoxiUa85aqV43OSM9YxFNxo6vULoVn_vH_bM3pui5gQ3dEewMtg1baJkk4zRZ42AW2OsGTY4wVq4GADGeI7AA/s1618/Screenshot%202022-11-22%20at%2014-01-30%20Salvatore%20Shoemaker%20of%20Dreams%20(2020).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1082" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8P7CKM7PHRUUF6uwJqOXkQs50Ew_Pgv8o51oPUwPqzQWnq3iI8Kwu11sQTGWw1wSeEHDm8di22nZvKVJweBv82U1HXoJHHZoxiUa85aqV43OSM9YxFNxo6vULoVn_vH_bM3pui5gQ3dEewMtg1baJkk4zRZ42AW2OsGTY4wVq4GADGeI7AA/w268-h400/Screenshot%202022-11-22%20at%2014-01-30%20Salvatore%20Shoemaker%20of%20Dreams%20(2020).png" width="268" /></a></div><p>Not since Prince Charming fitted the glass slipper onto Cinderella’s foot has a rags-to-riches story been so compelling as <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luca_Guadagnino" target="new">Luca Guadagnino</a>’s affectionate portrait of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvatore_Ferragamo" target="new">Salvatore Ferragamo</a>, the “shoemaker to the stars.” Finessing the fairytale of Cinderella casts Ferragamo in the role of the prince whose adoration and persistence transforms the young girl’s life forever. And isn’t that the dream of every young girl, let alone every prince? In reality, Ferragamo enhanced the lives of a multitude of women. </p><p>As dreams and fairytales and heroes journeys go, Ferragamo has been true to the template. As a young man he proceeded—as psychologist C.G. Jung advised—from the dream outward, careful to dream in detail, answering the call of his own true nature and, thereby, seeking and gaining his fortune and—as mythologist Joseph Campbell coined it—finding his bliss. As a filmic project, Guadagnino’s <a href="https://www.sonyclassics.com/film/salvatore/" target="new"><b><i>Salvatore: Shoemaker of Dreams</i> (2020)</b></a> likewise remains true to its desire of profiling the remarkable talent and ingenuity of Salvatore Ferragamo who lifted himself and his family out of poverty, was a witnessing participant and active architect of cinema as we now know it, and revolutionized the creative art and patented industry of fashion. </p><p>Guadagnino achieves his portrait of Ferragamo through strong, stylistic elements.
First, his talking heads invite reminisces from family members (Ferragamo’s wife Wanda and their children and grandchildren), and informed commentary from fashion and film critics, and art historians, including an ever self-bemused Martin Scorsese whose shoulders jiggle up and down every time he cracks a joke. But the documentary also allows Ferragamo to speak for himself through <a href="https://www.rizzoliusa.com/book/9788892820883/" target="new">his 1955 memoir</a> (from which the film lifts its title), narrated by actor Michael Stuhlbarg. This composite narrative of memoir, recollection and erudition takes the viewer on a journey from Bonito, Italy, to southern California and the auspicious beginnings of Hollywood, then back to a storied studio in Florence, Italy. </p><p>It’s when Ferragamo secures the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_Spini_Feroni" target="new">Palazzo Spini Feroni</a> in Florence to serve as his shoemaking studio that Guadagnino cleverly and deftly scores an instrumental version of “It’s So Nice To Have A Man Around the House” and he romanticizes Ferragamo’s home movie footage of his young bride Wanda by playing “I Get Misty”. These musical touches add romance and humor to the dream. </p><p>I was intrigued, if not a bit put off, however, by Guadagnino’s stylistic choice of having his camera shoot his subjects literally over his shoulder, an odd visual convention that insinuated the director into his film. Perhaps the intent was to parlay a conversational feel to his interaction with his interview subjects? Notwithstanding, I found myself wishing he had cropped himself out of the image. Whereas in his memoir Ferragamo looked back over his shoulder to account for his life, Guadagnino’s convention seemed an effort to look forward towards <i>his</i> recitation of Ferragamo’s tale. </p><p>Aspects of that tale are undeniably fascinating for being an insider’s history. Ferragamo’s clients numbered film stars and celebrities from his earliest days in Hollywood, including Gloria Swanson, Pola Negri, Dorothy and Lillian Gish, and Cecil B. DeMille. Later, he designed shoes for Eva Peron, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Sophia Loren, Greta Garbo, Andy Warhol, Princess Diana, and a handbag or two for Margaret Thatcher, among many many others. Not only was Ferragamo present when moviemaking elevated itself into the seventh art, but in commensurate alignment he raised the fashion of shoemaking into an art form. His most famous invention is arguably the "Cage heel" (featured on the film’s theatrical poster), but in 1938 he also created “The Rainbow”, the first instance of the platform shoe designed for American singer and actress Judy Garland. The shoe was a tribute to Garland's signature song "Over the Rainbow" performed in <b><i>The Wizard of Oz</i> (1939)</b> feature film.</p><p>Nuggets of experiential wisdom reveal themselves in the recitation of Ferragamo’s biography. He is notable for underscoring that—through perseverance and ingenuity—one can be personally successful during a cultural moment of difficulty (<i>i.e.</i>, the Depression). Keen on filing patents for his designs and inventions, Ferragamo understood that innovation works against decadence.
And, again on a Jungian note, the synchronic encounter between Ferragamo and Christian Dior and their subsequent collaborations give credence to being in the right place at the right time; though one could argue that Ferragamo was a master at insuring that whatever place or time he was at would be nothing but right.</p><p>The film’s final sequence is a thrilling Busby Berkley-ish animation of Ferragamo’s creations; an extraordinary “shoe ballet” created by stop-motion artist <a href="https://pesfilm.com/" target="new">PES</a>. When the red slippers click three times in that sequence it’s as if to say that home is not only where the heart is, but more importantly, where the dream lives.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uxebX9kvwJ0" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<i><b> </b></i></p><p><i><b>Salvatore: Shoemaker of Dreams</b></i> is a Sony Pictures Classics release, runs 121 minutes, is in English & Italian with English Subtitles, and is rated PG by the MPA. It has opened in select cities, including Landmark's Opera Plaza Cinema, San Francisco. It opens December 2, 2022 at The Flicks in Boise, Idaho.<br /></p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-58827268211195456772022-11-16T16:21:00.002-08:002022-11-16T16:21:30.421-08:00THROWBACK THURSDAY—A Resonant Friendship: Ninetto Davoli on Pier Paolo Pasolini<p><i></i></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1AXuXykOUoClz9M0knJvaXelcXADO4gh3GyhnQjYrKtLkf42bsNMTM_Y5kBvfkBh5F5_qLc-q3uY03_uwWCTMh7k4ArVOXP65dehj96MsORTPAk50l1CGZzc1PpteArReEOd9pWEHt1vBQJKywIfYAG5igTd3HYdmqJ2eABsyg_X3uhwEg/s625/Davoli,%20Ninetto.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1AXuXykOUoClz9M0knJvaXelcXADO4gh3GyhnQjYrKtLkf42bsNMTM_Y5kBvfkBh5F5_qLc-q3uY03_uwWCTMh7k4ArVOXP65dehj96MsORTPAk50l1CGZzc1PpteArReEOd9pWEHt1vBQJKywIfYAG5igTd3HYdmqJ2eABsyg_X3uhwEg/w320-h400/Davoli,%20Ninetto.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ninetto Davoli. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><i>"Everything about him has a magical air ... an endless reserve of happiness."</i>—<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pier_Paolo_Pasolini" target="new">Pier Paolo Pasolini</a> on <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ninetto_Davoli" target="new">Ninetto Davoli</a>. <p></p><p>Nine years ago in 2013 Luce Cinecittà and Fondo Pier Paolo Pasolini / Cineteca di Bologna brought their major touring retrospective of 22 newly remastered 35mm prints of Pier Paolo Pasolini's films to the Bay Area through an association with Colpa Cinema, the Italian Cultural Institute of San Francisco, and the Castro Theatre, Roxie Theatre and Pacific Film Archives. Part of a larger national tour, the series traveled from New York and Los Angeles, through the Bay Area, and then continued on to Columbus, Washington, Cleveland, Chicago, and Toronto. As value added, Luce Cinecittà sent Ninetto Davoli to accompany the series in the Bay Area; a charmingly affable ambassador for Pasolini's ouevre. </p><p>Giovanni "Ninetto" Davoli was born in San Pietro a Maida, Calabria, but moved to Rome when he was just a baby. Nice, always smiling, he was discovered at the age of 14 by poet, novelist and director Pier Paolo Pasolini who first cast him in a non-speaking role in <b><i>Il Vangelo secondo Matteo</i> (<i>The Gospel According to Matthew</i>, 1964)</b>, and then in a leading role alongside Italy's celebrated comic actor Totò in <b><i>Uccellacci e uccellini</i> (<i>Hawks and Sparrows</i>, 1966)</b>. Davoli mostly played comical-naïve roles in several more of Pasolini's films, the last of which was <b><i>Il fiore delle Mille e una Notte</i> (<i>Arabian Nights</i>, 1974)</b>. After Pasolini's death in 1975, Davoli turned increasingly to television productions. </p><p>All this time later, I am still grateful to Amelia Antonucci of the Italian Cultural Institute of San Francisco for offering the opportunity to sit down to talk to Davoli during his 2013 Bay Area visit, and to Antonia Fraser Fujinaga for her translative assistance. The transcript of that interview was originally published at <i>Fandor</i>’s <i>Keyframe</i>, and I offer it now to time with the latest Pasolini retrospective honoring the centennial of his birth currently ongoing at the <a href="https://bampfa.org/program/pier-paolo-pasolini" target="new">Pacific Film Archive</a> through November 27, 2022. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * *
<b> </b></p><p><b>Michael Guillén: Ninetto, it's such an honor to meet you today, as it's been a delight to watch your performances in the traveling retrospective of Pier Paolo Pasolini's films.</b> </p><p>Ninetto Davoli: I'm very happy that Pasolini is being brought to the whole world through this traveling retrospective. He was an important person to me in my life. He gave meaning to my life. I'm happy for any chance to speak about him and present his work. It's really not up to me to say it; but, Pasolini was someone whose time on this Earth has been <i>felt</i>. More than three decades after his death, his books, his writings, his films still have great value. It gladdens my heart that he's still spoken of and that so many young people will find out more about him and come to value him through this traveling series. I have met many young students who are almost crazy about Pasolini, enthusiastic over learning about him, listening about him. He's someone who has left an important mark upon the world and it's interesting to see all that the world has gone through since his death, confirming what he predicted through his writing.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Let's first discuss Pasolini's eye for discovering talent; his unerring ability to pick faces out of a crowd that he knew could be cinematic.</b> </p><p>Davoli: That was a characteristic of Pier Paolo's: to work with simple people and non-professional actors that he would find in the streets. He loved working with non-professionals because he wanted to show in all his films a true and authentic and—in a manner of speaking—a <i>clean</i> reality. He started this practice with <b><i>Accatone</i> (1961)</b>, <b><i>Mamma Roma</i> (1962)</b> and <b><i>La Ricotta</i> (1962)</b>. He chose authentic faces, though sometimes it's true that he used important actors; but, mostly for commercial reasons and for reasons of distribution, and to have attention paid to his films.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqmWYa8hBgDiRpIk7WjroeD9jyNUlen5OtpHA6srrPSpeDeOHvQoI3yD3V1c-FQ3yfIOe5J41xFEAd4bCcaW1BUpNUzPRZj4SeTNU99lijUDg9ki1jjtt2WcEyPdBnMso9-4p41V62EK2cYjJ9wPi8L4qYem69k6XSO9pYuIaaJiEZ6k-8nw/s640/Pasolini%20&%20Ninetto.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="520" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqmWYa8hBgDiRpIk7WjroeD9jyNUlen5OtpHA6srrPSpeDeOHvQoI3yD3V1c-FQ3yfIOe5J41xFEAd4bCcaW1BUpNUzPRZj4SeTNU99lijUDg9ki1jjtt2WcEyPdBnMso9-4p41V62EK2cYjJ9wPi8L4qYem69k6XSO9pYuIaaJiEZ6k-8nw/w325-h400/Pasolini%20&%20Ninetto.jpeg" width="325" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pasolini & Davoli. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><b>Guillén: It's my understanding that you were one of those authentic faces he saw on the streets? That you were among a group of boys who were watching the filming of <i>La Ricotta</i> and his eye singled you out?</b> <p></p><p>Davoli: Yes. The meeting with Pier Paolo Pasolini was pure chance; one of those accidents that occur in life. I was watching the filming of <i><b>La Ricotta</b></i>, which was a strange thing for me at the time as a young boy to watch a film being shot. Then, Pasolini was introduced to me and he patted me on the head, caressed my hair, which intimidated me. Later, he offered me a small role in his next film <b><i>Il Vangelo secondo Matteo</i> (<i>The Gospel According to Matthew</i>, 1964)</b>. I didn't want to be an actor. I was very nervous about it. I was shy and genuinely scared; but, Pier Paolo kept insisting, "Please do it." I asked him, "Do I have to actually speak?" I was concerned. He reassured me and said, "No, no, no. You don't have to speak. Just make some facial expressions, make some movement" and so because of that I said, "Well, all right then" and I accepted. I was cast in a small uncredited role as a shepherd playing with a child and, as he promised, all I had to do were a few gestures and movements, and some facial expressions; but, I was still uncertain about it. I have to say, however, that <i><b>The Gospel According to Matthew</b></i> has a special place in my heart because I was entering a new world. The emotions that were associated with that will always stay with me.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Pasolini's ability to see iconic qualities in people resulted in an ensemble of countenances that he used again and again to populate his films. This intrigues me how—watching his films as a body of work—the same faces keep appearing, serving an almost archetypal function. Your presence in his films, for example, carries a particular energy. As you and Pasolini became great friends, did he ever express to you his rationalization for this? And what it was that he saw specifically in you, your unique energy, that he wanted to include among his ensemble?</b> </p><p>Davoli: As I said before, Pasolini liked street actors because of their natural qualities. In me, he found the naturalness of the world he knew growing up. It wasn't so much an "ability" as it was that in these faces—including mine—he could see the story he wanted to describe. He could see the story in potential through these faces and he found a reality in them. He preferred imperfection. The young people in his "Trilogy of Life"—<b><i>Il Decamerone</i> (<i>The Decameron</i>, 1971)</b>, <b><i>The Canterbury Tales</i> (1972)</b> and <b><i>Il fiore delle mille e una notte</i> (<i>Arabian Nights</i>, 1974)</b>—were taken off the streets because he saw the story in them. He saw in their faces the possibility for them to be part of that story. His ability, if anything, was to perceive the right face. </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzUseG3ixnd8J6ygaGylSNymZWnHWE4ichT9Y10lr5KjTFoCeKxwSoAoqL7LmDFggp3o1mR4KbosEsc-0BXtgqUVmPSSJrbJspwWKG2tPIFaq0QpZUQBC5FAEnDBkiRXL5Gj0p4wEmsmCAWHbwMtW8Ax9lAC9043w-JZHegU4RnE4REZRfg/s1023/franco-merli.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="1023" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBzUseG3ixnd8J6ygaGylSNymZWnHWE4ichT9Y10lr5KjTFoCeKxwSoAoqL7LmDFggp3o1mR4KbosEsc-0BXtgqUVmPSSJrbJspwWKG2tPIFaq0QpZUQBC5FAEnDBkiRXL5Gj0p4wEmsmCAWHbwMtW8Ax9lAC9043w-JZHegU4RnE4REZRfg/w400-h278/franco-merli.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco Merli. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>As for what he saw explicity in me, I <i>knew</i>. I collaborated with him to find these actors. He and I would roam the streets together choosing faces and—in the same way, according to the same criteria—he chose me. For example, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franco_Merli" target="new">Franco Merli</a>, "Francino"—who played the young lover Nur Ed Din in <i><b>Arabian Nights</b></i>—I found working as a gas station attendant. I had gone to the station one morning to fill up my car and Francino recognized me and said, "Ninetto, give me an autograph, you're famous!" I said to him, "Would you like to play a part in one of Pasolini's films?" He was, of course, overjoyed. So, later on, I brought Pier Paolo to the gas station to meet Francino. I told him, "I have found your face; I have found the person to play Nur Ed Din." When Pier Paolo saw him, he said, "Oh yes! Absolutely." He, too, felt the same thing. We were on the same wavelength, the same frequency; we <i>resonated</i>. I had understood. I had perceived what it was he wanted. This was how I was able to help him choose characters and how I understood why he chose me. <p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMmeVwdUiXklSBooDwCgBWVaH52mE203IsM4I_hrl2BPS1e1romfjlmLluQBuTyUyMvomResR1c9-7m0M59uHf_iZvD6QmvjtzDmXUWP0TLGhSlcsYDg0JfQxXzzki80DXxal-QKbImReJbG09kUSwMclJI2h0UotLxuAFimQqGxgVjNC3Q/s960/toto%20&%20davoli.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="729" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWMmeVwdUiXklSBooDwCgBWVaH52mE203IsM4I_hrl2BPS1e1romfjlmLluQBuTyUyMvomResR1c9-7m0M59uHf_iZvD6QmvjtzDmXUWP0TLGhSlcsYDg0JfQxXzzki80DXxal-QKbImReJbG09kUSwMclJI2h0UotLxuAFimQqGxgVjNC3Q/w304-h400/toto%20&%20davoli.jpg" width="304" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Totò & Davoli. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p><b>Guillén: Let's talk about Pasolini's comic masterpiece <i>Hawks and Sparrows</i>. So here you are, 15-16 years old, in your first major role with Italy's most famous comic actor <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tot%C3%B2" target="new">Totò</a>. What can you tell me about Totò and what you learned working with him?</b></p><p>Davoli: <i><b>Hawks and Sparrows</b></i> was my first important film and even now—after making nine films with Pasolini—it remains my most beautiful experience. It was a turning point for me. It was incredible. It was implausible. I was wondering, "Am I dreaming? How can I be acting with such a big star?" It was a real drama for me to be thrown deep into this world of making art. I was terrified for about 10-15 days; but, after that, I got over it because I realized it wasn't that hard after all and then I really started to have fun. Totò's congenial personality resonated with me. I really liked him. It was important working with Totò because after a few days he started teaching me the tricks of the trade and how to be an actor. I learned a lot from him. I had already liked him through his performances. I often went to the cinema to watch his films, and the films of Laurel and Hardy, and Charlie Chaplin, so I was already well-disposed to him. After some time we became almost a pair. We worked well together. We bounced off each other. We bantered. We <i>clicked</i>. We made three films together with Pasolini: <i><b>Hawks and Sparrows</b></i>, <b><i>La Terra vista dalla luna</i> (<i>The Earth As Seen From the Moon</i>, 1966)</b> and <b><i>Che cosa sono le nuvole?</i> (<i>What Are the Clouds?</i>, 1967)</b>. Totò was a great, seasoned master of his craft when I was just starting out. He didn't show off. He wasn't conceited. He was a simple, unassuming person and Pasolini saw this. He saw that Totò had a face and a being, a personality, an inner simplicity, and—although he was a big star—deep down he was, and always remained, just an ordinary person like me. </p><p><b>Guillén: One of the reasons I enjoyed <i>Hawks and Sparrows</i> so much was because I felt it demonstrated that you were, in effect, Pasolini's actor <i>fetiche</i>. I sensed that you expressed his joy and his capacity for fun. Can you speak to Pasolini's sense of humor? In conjunction with that, since you and Pasolini were such good friends and you were often with him—I've seen footage of you sitting beside him when he was being interviewed on difficult political and religious subjects—how much of that serious content impacted your own intelligence?</b> </p><p>Davoli: Pasolini was not a cheerful person. Quite the opposite. He was, for instance, very shy. When he met me, it was like meeting himself as a younger person, as a boy. He saw in me the joy that he would have liked to have had, but hadn't had. He saw the cheerful boy that he would have wanted to be but now could no longer be. He suffered a lot as a child. He was the son of a school teacher and a colonel in the Army. He had a conflicted relationship with his father Carlo and this traumatized him; it stayed with him. His father had a commanding air. He was authoritarian, strict and austere. It was from his mother Susanna that he received tenderness, understanding and compassion. She was all that he loved. He adored her his entire life. In meeting me, he encountered the joy of living. </p><p>When he went to conferences and spoke with intellectuals, he used a high intellectual register. He used big words and convoluted expressions and I, being very young, couldn't understand what he was saying, although later on when I grew up and spent more time witnessing this side of him, I learned and came to understand. He used this high register of intellectualism when he was interacting with intellectuals, while with the exact same intelligence—the same weight in a sense—he was simple with simple people. As I said, with the same weight, the same equilibrium, he could harmonize with simple people, like me. He could adapt with great purpose to these two different ways of being. </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUE0KTauqeBrIH-xcWLqKiq-jhAdU3wLWykwbZpOACKdy0GP6OSbshu3bWuSn6fMzcdpcOHbFxEmnXU66PcewWga_9oA-qo5h3LLCTYTzk1hCIBLFTNoY0DgfsqtR2yEinIsVTXxLQmmOaLf9MsfazjLSJRQrX5c1PYnoC6iRObRsuxIxig/s1200/Moravia%20&%20Pasolini.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="887" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUE0KTauqeBrIH-xcWLqKiq-jhAdU3wLWykwbZpOACKdy0GP6OSbshu3bWuSn6fMzcdpcOHbFxEmnXU66PcewWga_9oA-qo5h3LLCTYTzk1hCIBLFTNoY0DgfsqtR2yEinIsVTXxLQmmOaLf9MsfazjLSJRQrX5c1PYnoC6iRObRsuxIxig/w296-h400/Moravia%20&%20Pasolini.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alberto Moravia & Pasolini. Photo: ?<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>When we were seeking actors together, it was all joy. It was fun, cheerful and lighthearted. When he was at conferences or spending time with his intellectual friends like the poet <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alberto_Moravia" target="new">Alberto Moravia</a>, then of course he used this heavier style; but, somehow, he didn't manifest the disparity, the break, between these two worlds. It's not that Pasolini didn't love the intellectual world, but his preference was for the more natural human world. When we were together, it was as if a weight had fallen off him. He lightened up. He was more free and relaxed. He was looser and more cheerful. When he was with the intellectuals, he was much more restrained and less carefree. When we were looking for actors, or playing football, or wandering around, he was very natural. He enjoyed it. That was what he preferred; but, his intellectual weight, the power of his intellect, likewise existed at the same time. Therefore, it inevitably brought him into contact with this heavier world, which was not his preference. It wasn't that it was hard for him, perhaps it was tiring, but he was an intelligent man. It wasn't as if he had to compete with them, as if they were more clever than him, it wasn't that at all. It's just that he was happier when he could be carefree in his other, simpler world.
<b> </b><p></p><p><b>Guillén: Not only did he circle in simple and intellectual worlds, but also spectacular ones, as with his collaboration with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Callas" target="new">Maria Callas</a> in the film <i>Medea</i> (1969). Can you speak to that?</b> </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsNc9_wSr5SR4IN_AcPs5JrUkjPWk5UznuAiuE_3KrWgKT0WpzO5jX_BxtQgBFhwCEgPxOgWLfIICamk4EA0HV2BQzTfHU3rSZpO5EwxrWNx9CDlCB4iJqNepYoQiHov0miy8yGiucrJnlxX4VzCBtfTvUukVFWC4nhF_v9WQpO3Fh41EyjA/s550/maria-callas-e-pasolini-sul-set-di-medea-1969_(1)_Thumb_HighlightCenter263079.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="399" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsNc9_wSr5SR4IN_AcPs5JrUkjPWk5UznuAiuE_3KrWgKT0WpzO5jX_BxtQgBFhwCEgPxOgWLfIICamk4EA0HV2BQzTfHU3rSZpO5EwxrWNx9CDlCB4iJqNepYoQiHov0miy8yGiucrJnlxX4VzCBtfTvUukVFWC4nhF_v9WQpO3Fh41EyjA/w290-h400/maria-callas-e-pasolini-sul-set-di-medea-1969_(1)_Thumb_HighlightCenter263079.jpg" width="290" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maria Callas & Pasolini. Photo: ?<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Davolil: Although I made nine films with Pasolini, unfortunately <i><b>Medea</b></i> was not one of them because—while it was being filmed—I was undergoing my mandatory military service in Italy, so I couldn't take part; but, I did get to meet Maria Callas. I didn't know who she was but Pasolini told me she was a <i>famous</i> singer. I didn't quite understand what he meant by that because singers, to me, were pop stars. At the time when they were filming in Rome, Pasolini told me to go to the Grand Hotel where Callas was staying to keep her company. So I said, "Okay...." <p></p><p> I drove up to the hotel in my spectacular new sports car, which I'd just bought because I had finally made some money. I was all excited about it. The doorman at the hotel was dressed in a uniform and he looked like a policeman. He said, "Good evening. Would you like to give me the keys to your car?" I said, "What?! It's my car. I'm not giving you the keys to my car. I'll park it myself." I was afraid he was going to steal it. </p><p>After I parked it, I went up to Maria Callas's room. I didn't quite know what to say to her because I didn't really know much about her so I said, "Maria, you are a good singer aren't you? How do you have such a voice? How do you do it?" She said, "I have this voice because of years of study, constant exercise, and exhausting practice every day." So I asked, "How do you practice?" She said, "Put your hands here on my back" and she let out a high note. I felt her prodigious muscles and said, "Maria, you've got some incredible muscles there!" She said, "Yes, those are the fruits of years of effort that I was telling you about." </p><p>I started to get bored because I was very young and—though she was a famous star—I didn't know much about her. So I asked her, "What should we do? What do you want to do?" and she said, "Whatever you want." I thought, "Oh dear." I said, "Should we go around Rome, perhaps? Should we go for a little drive?" She said, "That's a wonderful idea. How splendid." I thought, "Oh dear. I have to take her around Rome." So off we went in my wonderful new vroooom vroooom sports car racing around Rome like nobody's business and I took her to a dodgy bar; the type of bar in a seedy part of town that Pasolini often portrayed in his films because he knew them so well. So we walked in and I said to the owner, "Look who I brought. I brought Maria Callas!" He said, "Yeah, right, you brought Maria Callas." No one could imagine that I would take Maria Callas to a dodgy bar! He came around and saw that, indeed, it was Maria Callas and stepped up to meet her. </p><p>I tell you this story because it's an example of how bizarre my experience was with Maria Callas. I was bowled over by this extraordinary person. She was exceptional. She had an incredible internal strength. Just as I was bowled over by her, and the owner of the bar was bowled over by her, so was Pasolini. We were all overwhelmed by her. From that night was born something of a flirtation, a love story, between her and Pasolini. </p><p> <b>Guillén: Once you completed your military service, you then participated in Pasolini's "Trilogy of Life", first as Andreuccio of Perugia in <i>The Decameron</i> in 1971, then as the rascal Perkin in <i>The Canterbury Tales</i> in 1972, and finally as Aziz in <i>Arabian Nights</i> in 1974. Let's discuss those films.</b> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bcxWoN_8wO8reDCobN29JmAG8wEFdqzhrBZe-sB1_SCNWQddbWBapXaRAVT9OeUq9DMDmdFRfu2EAhL0wCgccALOK9AicxPK1UCaIIwT3wgrY0edc8Vpq46tHV1SyjdKrF_gTLMIdf7Af8B8vjdr6rfAZRmR3j6yer0mBf9Us9vDeZGM8A/s900/decameron_franco_citti_pier_paolo_pasolini_024_jpg_hwmy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bcxWoN_8wO8reDCobN29JmAG8wEFdqzhrBZe-sB1_SCNWQddbWBapXaRAVT9OeUq9DMDmdFRfu2EAhL0wCgccALOK9AicxPK1UCaIIwT3wgrY0edc8Vpq46tHV1SyjdKrF_gTLMIdf7Af8B8vjdr6rfAZRmR3j6yer0mBf9Us9vDeZGM8A/w285-h400/decameron_franco_citti_pier_paolo_pasolini_024_jpg_hwmy.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><p>Davoli: It's a bit hard to understand now, but the importance of <i><b>The Decameron</b></i> was that Pasolini uncovered the naked bodies of men and women for the first time in an artistic film. When I say "naked", I mean naked in its poetic sense of showing the love between two people. When the film came out, people weren't yet used to that kind of thing and they were shocked. There were lawsuits and the film was considered by some to be mere pornography. <i><b>The Decameron</b></i> definitely caused a great hullabaloo. Despite the controversy, however, the film was a colossal success and was Italy's highest-grossing film for close to a year. Furthermore, after it came out, it was copied by other film directors who made <i><b>The Indian Decameron</b></i>, <i><b>The African Decameron</b></i>, <i><b>Decameron II</b></i>, <i><b>Decameron III</b></i>, spawning a whole series of <i><b>Decameron</b></i> films. So, again, at that time people were struck by that kind of cinema. It's an excellent film, even though it doesn't necessarily have the same effect now as it did back then. People are used to this kind of nudity now.</p><p> </p><p><i><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IPGpeeT01BqnRNZndfX-_00QgkRUuIUWfrGgjEMKzcwDZeP-L1e-X0RWfZ2-ci70jCoHdEix0Z7UfM7s7ghu2au64sr-QAdfhscU3n6wB0sXrog2SnQLrmDhRDQAeRgySFGxEfGsIQgphntE5GLbWC0pPTB1iVg6C_c6id06-DgM8Y4ltA/s498/canterbury_bw01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="339" data-original-width="498" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IPGpeeT01BqnRNZndfX-_00QgkRUuIUWfrGgjEMKzcwDZeP-L1e-X0RWfZ2-ci70jCoHdEix0Z7UfM7s7ghu2au64sr-QAdfhscU3n6wB0sXrog2SnQLrmDhRDQAeRgySFGxEfGsIQgphntE5GLbWC0pPTB1iVg6C_c6id06-DgM8Y4ltA/s320/canterbury_bw01.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Davoli as "Perkin".<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The Canterbury Tales</b></i> was hard work for me because it was all done in English. All the actors were English themselves, generally found on the outskirts of London. The thing is, though, neither I nor Pier Paolo spoke any English. When we went around looking for potential actors, this was how we did it: we would roam the streets of London looking for people who might look right and—if Pier Paolo would come across someone who he thought might work—he would send me to use my broken English to approach them with some boring excuse like asking for directions. As the person would start to give directions, Pier Paolo would stand some distance away, maybe five meters, and would use his hands to frame shots to see if this person would look right through the camera. If he thought they might work, he would then approach and the two of us would try in our broken English to offer the person a part in the film. But if he didn't think they would work, he would signal to me unobtrusively and I'd say, "Thank you very much" and walk away.
The film was shot mainly in London and Canterbury and what was particularly tiring for me was my role, my character. I don't want to say that it was an imitation of Charlie Chaplin but it was, in a sense, an homage to him. To enable me to do that, I had to watch all of Chaplin's films to understand, internalize and capture Chaplin's style in order to be able to make an appropriate homage. Charlie Chaplin's daughter Josephine was an actress in <i><b>The Canterbury Tales</b></i> and—after the film came out—a really wonderful thing happened. Charlie Chaplin said to his daughter, "If you see that boy, tell him he did a good job." To receive a compliment from Charlie Chaplin was something incredibly special for me. It will stay with me forever. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWykagJTKwu_7FzzzB2Gb9AKH3GNpqcLB2X-YzVL6F2iCGeEVOW8H18x0w9_PKBXqid_r1i1XH-tQuZsd-wm7fht4RkCl9GgL2uLicqzB2wkpzsZrcaX1IbqeQ7RT4c_KUDqKSiCZoX8ljVZuCcLfZqopIjcKSLm3AMVxy8kwn55FazcySHQ/s914/arabian%20nights_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="914" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWykagJTKwu_7FzzzB2Gb9AKH3GNpqcLB2X-YzVL6F2iCGeEVOW8H18x0w9_PKBXqid_r1i1XH-tQuZsd-wm7fht4RkCl9GgL2uLicqzB2wkpzsZrcaX1IbqeQ7RT4c_KUDqKSiCZoX8ljVZuCcLfZqopIjcKSLm3AMVxy8kwn55FazcySHQ/w263-h400/arabian%20nights_poster.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>During one of our many trips together, every evening before we went to sleep Pier Paolo would tell me stories from <b>The Thousand and One Nights</b>, and at the end of the trip we analyzed the stories and decided which ones to display in the film <b><i>Arabian Nights</i></b>. He wrote the script with the help of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dacia_Maraini" target="new">Dacia Maraini</a>. Then we went scouting for locations in Yemen, Africa, Thailand, and so on, to find small villages that would fit the themes we had imagined. After that, we considered the characters. As we've discussed, one of Pasolini's abilities was to find realistic characters who looked authentic. Again, he chose locals, non-actors, so that for <i><b>The Decameron</b></i> they were all Neopolitan, for <i><b>The Canterbury Tales</b></i> they were all English, and for <i><b>Arabian Nights</b></i> they were African and Middle Eastern people. This entire process of collaborating on the scenes, scouting for locations, and finding the actors would take six, seven, to eight months before we actually started to shoot the films themselves.
<b> </b><p></p><p><b>Guillén: I'm sure you're aware that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abel_Ferrara" target="new">Abel Ferrara</a> is planning a biopic of Pasolini's life starring <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willem_Dafoe" target="new">Willem Dafoe</a> in the lead role? Are you involved as a consultant on that project? Or will you be a cameo in that film?</b> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq9VB5vIWrkLRl23AvEce1o0le0oQ8M0LWgiI0cyLeQPTwf62BPWyXpKpJ1FTgjun5bfD8_01S5ylEegwJ-YFa3xZXTGDpjTgowPhoc5F62H4U_jfflhCxV01NfFLX4U2_P5fO2YIObMd-GPgtoRB1A8I9lJt7KNVahLV3xRGF6GnDD4SsQ/s1618/Pasolini.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1066" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrq9VB5vIWrkLRl23AvEce1o0le0oQ8M0LWgiI0cyLeQPTwf62BPWyXpKpJ1FTgjun5bfD8_01S5ylEegwJ-YFa3xZXTGDpjTgowPhoc5F62H4U_jfflhCxV01NfFLX4U2_P5fO2YIObMd-GPgtoRB1A8I9lJt7KNVahLV3xRGF6GnDD4SsQ/w264-h400/Pasolini.jpg" width="264" /></a></div>Davoli: Yes, I am aware of that. Willem Dafoe phoned me in Italy to suggest collaborating on this film and I discovered that he would be playing Pasolini. I said to Abel Ferrara, "I'll do it; but, first, I want to know what you're going to say? What you're going to tell about Pier Paolo?" He said that he wanted to talk about his last days and his final tragedy and I said, "If it's only that, if that's all you want to talk about, then I won't accept. I won't do it." He said, "But, no, it takes his death as the starting point and then goes back to tell his whole story." So I said, "Write the script first and, if I like it, we can collaborate." That's the point where we are now. I'm waiting for the script. If I like it, I'll become involved. If not, I won't. [<b>Note:</b> Apparently, Davoli approved of the script and played the role of Epifanio in the film.]
<b> </b><p></p><p><b>Guillén: My understanding is that Ferrara wants to approach Pasolini's death by way of a <i>Rashomon</i> construct. Since Pasolini's death is, to this day, shrouded in mystery and controversy, it's my understanding that Ferrara is intending to propose a multi-perspective view on Pasolini's death. For example, one of the theories that I've become aware of that truly shocked me was a supposition put forth by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giuseppe_Zigaina" target="new">Giuseppe Zigaina</a> in the documentary <i>Pasolini and Death: A Purely Intellectual Thriller</i> (2005) that Pasolini orchestrated his own death. Do you have an opinion on that? What do you feel actually happened? And I apologize in advance if this is too personal an inquiry; but, I'm genuinely curious.</b> </p><p>Davoli: Of course it makes me very sad to speak of this and I don't like to talk about this because the night before he died we were together and the next day I was called to identify his corpse. Obviously, this is painful for me to discuss. From what I understood from Ferrara, his film was not intended to talk about Pasolini and his story but just about his final tragedy; not him, just his gruesome death. I told him, "If all you want to talk about is his horrifying death, not him and his story, then I won't do it. But if you do want to talk about his entire story—including inevitably his gruesome death as part of the story but not the total focus—then I will do it." </p><p>As for this idea that Pasolini orchestrated his own death, I think it's nonsense. From my perspective, the way that I see it, almost certainly Pier Paolo stumbled on a bad situation. He had an unlucky night, which ended badly. It was an accident. It wasn't intended. It wasn't planned. These later rumors that his death was political or staged—all these elaborate stories that circulated later on—I think they're all nonsense. They're all just rumors.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Thank you so much, Ninetto. It's been such an honor to share smiles with you today.</b>
</p><p></p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-51377048388451141652022-11-10T11:41:00.002-08:002022-11-10T11:41:39.043-08:00THROWBACK THURSDAY: THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO MATTHEW (IL VANGELO SECONDO MATTEO, 1964)—A Response To Casting & Narrative Elements<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2eidzIeJ8iKp0qQhNO8yqLS0JWOPTYCSIFQLwi-JzPF-CCOfqt4-ISgLk-VboahksCbNXcELmJwllff0wjLVYhts5BX7D0WEUDd9QkO59bKS3NOTv2_U_El1B1VdKGHmavgS337pjfP_ZVisVdpjvFwzU6btXdV7KrsrgB74gA_ptfi44Q/s1600/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_Italian%20Poster_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1114" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2eidzIeJ8iKp0qQhNO8yqLS0JWOPTYCSIFQLwi-JzPF-CCOfqt4-ISgLk-VboahksCbNXcELmJwllff0wjLVYhts5BX7D0WEUDd9QkO59bKS3NOTv2_U_El1B1VdKGHmavgS337pjfP_ZVisVdpjvFwzU6btXdV7KrsrgB74gA_ptfi44Q/w279-h400/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_Italian%20Poster_01.jpg" width="279" /></a></div><p>My response to the casting and narrative elements of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pier_Paolo_Pasolini" target="new">Pier Paolo Pasolini</a>’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Gospel_According_to_St._Matthew_(film)" target="new"><b><i>The Gospel According to Matthew</i> (<i>Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo</i>, 1964)</b></a> ("<i><b>Matthew</b></i>") was originally published on <i>Keyframe</i>, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fandor" target="new"><i>Fandor</i></a>’s digital magazine, on October 2013. A few years earlier over a meal at a Chinese restaurant I had been quite honored and excited when Jonathan Marlow and Kevin Lee invited me to write for <i>Keyframe</i>, and I was commensurately disappointed when in 2018 <i>Fandor</i> announced the layoff of its staff and the sale of its assets to an undisclosed investment firm. Along with many other contributors, most of my pieces for <i>Keyframe</i> disappeared into the ether. Along with the demise of <i>Greencine</i> and <i>SF360</i>, this became an ongoing cautionary tale in backing up my writing and not assuming that the sites to which I contributed would maintain archives. </p><p>As transmogrifications go, however, at <a href="https://deadline.com/2021/01/cinedigm-acquires-fandor-film-streaming-service-free-tier-1234676152/" target="new"><i>Deadline</i></a> in early 2021 Dade Hayes announced that <a href="https://www.fandor.com/browse-movie/" target="new"><i>Fandor</i></a> had been acquired by <a href="https://cinedigm.com/" target="new"><i>Cinedigm</i></a> with “plans to update and expand its offerings”, including a relaunch of <a href="https://keyframe.fandor.com/" target="new"><i>Keyframe</i></a>. By October 2021 <i>Fandor</i> launched as a revamped independent streaming service, remaining available as an add-on channel on Amazon Prime (as it had been since its initial launch in 2016). <i>Keyframe</i> was likewise brought back, with admirable new content, and some <a href="https://keyframe.fandor.com/category/archive/" target="new">archival offerings</a>. A cursory review of their archival listings, however, didn’t include any of my work. In fact, it appeared that most of the “archival” listings were from articles written under the new management. </p><p>And yet, a Google search brought up <a href="https://keyframe.fandor.com/the-gospel-according-to-saint-matthew-more-than-a-movie/" target="new">an archived version of my <i><b>Matthew</b></i> essay</a>, written as it were by “Fandor Staff”, though it doesn’t seem to have been included in either <i>Keyframe</i>’s archives or articles holdings. As 5,667 archived pieces and 5,412 articles are listed as available, perhaps they intend to rotate these offerings? Your guess is as good as mine since it appears the courtesy of notification to the original authors, let alone attribution, doesn’t seem to have been considered. Notwithstanding, I was glad to find my essay on <i><b>Matthew</b></i> available online, even if in the same breath I recognized how unflattering broken links can render a piece. Addressing the wear and tear that time effects on an online article, and attaching my name to my work, I revisit my <i>Keyframe</i> article with ameliorative edits. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBO9kQdI1mikdW5o0xtUEmNd2jofK1Yt5H4H4vAScXTXo2Yyz_EhSPAlace7dAhMnO2v0SV2I4JlJPq2XbwwWStFtMxPHb_Yfd9cZhsqsIt7aB8uiA-EPGLh1Ex31jv4Q5NJXWgvBBC6n3lAahnVfms9SCaHF17EMF2qVmjRAjcy401TDrA/s796/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_French%20Poster_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="580" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixBO9kQdI1mikdW5o0xtUEmNd2jofK1Yt5H4H4vAScXTXo2Yyz_EhSPAlace7dAhMnO2v0SV2I4JlJPq2XbwwWStFtMxPHb_Yfd9cZhsqsIt7aB8uiA-EPGLh1Ex31jv4Q5NJXWgvBBC6n3lAahnVfms9SCaHF17EMF2qVmjRAjcy401TDrA/w291-h400/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_French%20Poster_01.jpg" width="291" /></a></div>There are times after watching commercial theatrical releases when I struggle to muster enough enthusiasm to write even one appropriate sentence in response, obliged as I might be to some earnest publicist expecting a compensatory pound of flesh for a comped ticket or a festival badge. Such films—more often than not—fade swiftly from my memory like morning mist in direct sunlight. In recent years, rather than have my body decimated by obligation, I've elected to support the industry of filmmaking by preserving my silence and <i>buying</i> a ticket like every other moviegoer rather than feeling obliged to write a single word, which—as stated—frequently refuse to appear anyways. Nor am I motivated or entertained by ranting over how conspicuously mediocre most contemporary movies have become, like many front line reviewers who could readily be roaring extras in a Roman coliseum, gesticulating thumbs down, while innocents are being fed limb by limb to the lions. I quietly leave the theater and go home and splash cold water on my face. "They're only movies," I tell myself, staring vacantly at my reflection as the roar of the coliseum subsides. Enough said. <p></p><p>But now and again I watch a movie that doesn't allow itself to be "just" a movie, and maybe it's a film that's nearly 50 years old, alluringly freed from market pressures, but still so incredibly current and relevant that it won't let go, demanding articulation and praise, insisting on being understood through language, and thereby undeniably elevating itself into the so-called seventh art by the sheer force of creative, competent will. Pier Paolo Pasolini's <b><i>The Gospel According to Matthew</i> (<i>Il Vangelo Secondo Matteo</i>, 1964)</b> is one such film. I sometimes wonder if I am ever going to <i>stop</i> writing about this movie? Though, truthfully, I am delighted I even want to. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELvfYu5ylA5xFvXU0dFBKyGtIy3I5v_2CGb6yVoZc2Hn-wNZHfjn0VmBpenddpkUtz-F3UkfyuyKeXwimJ9P9sUsIr_41XYg9-wKuBkv01ATxODQ3mIHHFCUsqH9_pkfrXjUSthXQyd4oeu695bZKt_xk41FiN3aqDZHlr-lp6jS6PGao8Q/s750/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_Spanish%20Poster_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="474" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELvfYu5ylA5xFvXU0dFBKyGtIy3I5v_2CGb6yVoZc2Hn-wNZHfjn0VmBpenddpkUtz-F3UkfyuyKeXwimJ9P9sUsIr_41XYg9-wKuBkv01ATxODQ3mIHHFCUsqH9_pkfrXjUSthXQyd4oeu695bZKt_xk41FiN3aqDZHlr-lp6jS6PGao8Q/w253-h400/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_Spanish%20Poster_01.jpg" width="253" /></a></div>During these last few weeks I have been asking myself why Pasolini's <i><b>Matthew</b></i> has taken such a hold on me? Perhaps its gravitational grip alludes to a painterly quality in which I have found a contemplative orbit? Even as its narrative urgency bespeaks politicized necessity? It abounds with conflicting energies: acknowledged as possibly the best film about the life of Christ, made by an affirmed Marxist atheist homosexual. Peter Bradshaw's description for <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/feb/28/gospel-according-st-matthew-review" target="new"><i>The Guardian</i></a> that <i><b>Matthew</b></i> "looks as if it has been hacked from some stark rockface" comports with Bosley Crowther's earlier comment in his <a href="http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9800E2D9143CE53BBC4052DFB466838D679EDE" target="new"><i>New York Times</i></a> review that the film's language is "flinty", suggesting <i><b>Matthew</b></i>'s essential beauty is lapidary. There's a sculpted quality to <i><b>Matthew</b></i>, perhaps more rough-hewn than burnished, constructed as an homage to neorealism yet contaminated by stylized, purposeful anachronisms. Like the best pieces of Christian art, <i><b>Matthew</b></i> speaks to the history of Christian art, and situates itself along a vast continuum. In this historical layering it resembles something sedimentary. <p></p><p>I'm not a Christian—I’m not going to pretend to be—but, I was raised in the Catholic faith and I cannot escape an imbedded sense of the cultural importance of the Bible as spiritual literature, specifically the narrative of The Passion. I know that <i>having</i> to believe is as important—if not existentially moreso—than believing. I believe faith and knowledge do not cancel themselves out but are symbiotic by design. I <i>have</i> to believe that. </p><p>When I was researching Pasolini, I was struck by his devout atheism, his refusal to believe that Jesus Christ was the son of God, but also his awareness that the teachings of Christ—moreso today than ever—speak to revolutionary purpose. Pasolini may not have been a religious man, he may not have even been a spiritual man, but his sensibility was certainly <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mythopoiesis" target="new">mythopoeic</a>, with a deep respect for the sacred, which he believed revealed itself through nature. He felt the sacred surfaced both in landscape and the human body. I have no difficulty understanding and appreciating how interwoven this is into his cinematic vision. It's not so much that <i><b>The Gospel According to Matthew</b></i> confirms a Christian viewpoint as it does a revolutionary and sacred one. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMp5FfbRt4TkpFoV2rw62R3vFvMeDkCE9VJJMX5j5LDxV8B1x5fW19iaaPhmvpBNyOM3PThDa5tpX755u-S4Fy0M4Rf6P5uhII92cFK052oHurWVS1S7L93CvMk4Pk2NkGCD3QcA9swBnqgmybTiSAD3EoA-tJlF1u7sjMC7NABR5Xz5nR-Q/s567/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_%3F%20Poster_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="567" data-original-width="401" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMp5FfbRt4TkpFoV2rw62R3vFvMeDkCE9VJJMX5j5LDxV8B1x5fW19iaaPhmvpBNyOM3PThDa5tpX755u-S4Fy0M4Rf6P5uhII92cFK052oHurWVS1S7L93CvMk4Pk2NkGCD3QcA9swBnqgmybTiSAD3EoA-tJlF1u7sjMC7NABR5Xz5nR-Q/w283-h400/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20of%20Matthew_%3F%20Poster_01.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>In his review of the film, <a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-gospel-according-to-st-matthew-1964" target="new">Roger Ebert</a> understands that there is no single version of the story of the Passion. "It acts," he writes, "as a template into which we fit our ideas, and we see it as our lives have prepared us for it." For me, that's exact phrasing. As someone raised in the Catholic faith, I nonetheless always felt outside of it, partly because of the Church's stance on my sexual orientation. This caused me to engage in a debate with organized religion for many years and I educated myself on the early history of Christianity and its mythic antecedents in Assyrian-Babylonian narratives, as taught to me by comparative mythologists <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joseph_Campbell" target="new">Joseph Campbell</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nanos_Valaoritis" target="new">Nanos Valaoritis</a>. As a full scholar for San Francisco's C.G. Jung Institute over 20 years, I studied with Bible historians such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elaine_Pagels" target="new">Elaine Pagels</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Karen_Armstrong" target="new">Karen Armstrong</a> and Gnostic scholars such as <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gilles_Quispel" target="new">Gilles Quispel</a> (who, in fact, helped smuggle <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gospel_of_Thomas" target="new"><i>The Gospel of Thomas ("<i>Thomas</i>")</i></a> out of Egypt at Jung's bequest). <i>Thomas</i>, in fact, became my favorite of the gospels, even if excluded from the official canon. I studied with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcus_Borg" target="new">Marcus Borg</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Dominic_Crossan" target="new">John Dominic Crossan</a> who both advocated an appreciative perspective of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Historical_Jesus" target="new">Historical Jesus</a>. <p></p><p>One could argue this is the same perspective applied by Pasolini in constructing <i><b>The Gospel According to Matthew</b></i>.
During my theater years I was given the chance to play the apostle Peter in <i>Magdalen</i>, a production that incorporated the <i>Gospel of Thomas</i> verbatim within the script, and I can recall to this day how powerful it was to enact words written millennia ago. It felt as relevant as it felt ritualistic. Thus, I have a clear appreciation of Pasolini's similar experiment of incorporating the <i>Gospel of Matthew</i> verbatim into his filmic adaptation. These experiences—studying the history of Christianity, the Gnostic Gospels, and the Historical Jesus, along with enacting the <i>Gospel of Thomas</i> on stage—is what prepared me (in Ebert's sense) for viewing Pasolini's <i><b>The Gospel According to Matthew</b></i>. What follows are my responses to Pasolini's project, negotiated through a second, more informed, viewing after researching the film.
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>The Iconic Countenance</b> </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfeIs_5o8hEZQt7ON5mr7Z8ipfvr-0IHESFEBbrlUbORa5lgYb6LwyYfMbE0mr0-nIf0kGJGs7neoo6DHjZLUZLZDa1Hv2oiBsEdNeZWUBixgTn1L_rhGbrDSQWIRJ_C3GoD5UsifIdHBEUaaEW5KTRXI5thyRmpCVW2oXSNCCJ6Qhc1SCA/s1920/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Young%20Mary%20(Margherita%20Caruso).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXfeIs_5o8hEZQt7ON5mr7Z8ipfvr-0IHESFEBbrlUbORa5lgYb6LwyYfMbE0mr0-nIf0kGJGs7neoo6DHjZLUZLZDa1Hv2oiBsEdNeZWUBixgTn1L_rhGbrDSQWIRJ_C3GoD5UsifIdHBEUaaEW5KTRXI5thyRmpCVW2oXSNCCJ6Qhc1SCA/w400-h225/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Young%20Mary%20(Margherita%20Caruso).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margherita Caruso as the young Mary.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The face as icon reveals the sacred through countenance, where countenance is understood as an interaction between mind and heart. Pasolini's film starts out with close observances of the faces of a young woman and a slightly older man. Without either being identified, without a word being said, Pasolini defamiliarizes the standard Passion narrative by keeping the audience guessing as to their identities. Why is this young woman so troubled and tentative? Why is this man at turns near-angry and seemingly frustrated? As the camera pulls back, you see that she is pregnant and it's only then that you deduce she is Mary and he is Joseph. Clearly this is not Joseph's child and he's not sure how to handle the situation. He walks away from her to clear his thoughts, tires, stops to rest, and dreams. In his dream he is visited by an angel who tells him to rejoice that Mary has been impregnated by the Holy Spirit. Until the angel speaks, nothing has yet been said aloud, the narrative has followed Matthew's description in his gospel, and the story has been told purely, through images, through iconic countenances, staged in frontal compositions against backgrounds that suggest Byzantine art. Even after Joseph has received the good news, the ensuing scene returns the film to silence, relying on a relay of facial expressions that express Joseph's willingness to father the holy child, and Mary's relief in his willingness to do so. They both smile demurely, tentatively, as they accept parentage as their sacred fate. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O0R2f8BCAsjuv_d7IASO4vzV3n4SRm4NU0gHDX4M8Yphzn8l4-CQzbEVmR1tWD_rmIde5N77UnURPkxRuQQlK7i5TJTQ_AuBx6MFk-HHgr9EaKrkEeXz9v-i3m6K0D4rqFnam628mHhJb6WifrD5XMKq0Kx7diL4NB2zPlIfz6FkY1cjKg/s600/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Young%20Mary%20(Margherita%20Caruso)_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="322" data-original-width="600" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6O0R2f8BCAsjuv_d7IASO4vzV3n4SRm4NU0gHDX4M8Yphzn8l4-CQzbEVmR1tWD_rmIde5N77UnURPkxRuQQlK7i5TJTQ_AuBx6MFk-HHgr9EaKrkEeXz9v-i3m6K0D4rqFnam628mHhJb6WifrD5XMKq0Kx7diL4NB2zPlIfz6FkY1cjKg/w400-h215/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Young%20Mary%20(Margherita%20Caruso)_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margherita Caruso as the young Mary.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>This visual device continues well into the film, both to introduce familiar characters to the narrative, but also to profile the social world within which the narrative rests. It did not go unnoticed by detractors at the time that many of the faces used by Pasolini were those of the disenfranchised people he knew from the <i>borgata</i>, the slums of Rome. Straight off, through visual countenance alone, Pasolini has rendered a class critique, casting his Passion narrative with members of a discriminated class, non-actors who by their very being, their countenance, reflected authenticity and—through the "authentic"—the sacred.
</p><p><a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2003/sep/21/entertainment/ca-turan21" target="new">Kenneth Turan</a> considers Pasolini's "marvelous faces of local people, each one a book in itself." Russell Hittinger and Elizabeth Lev find their iconicity somewhat strange and grotesque, serving to disarm spectatorial imaginations that have been liturgically and textually informed. At <i>Little White Lies</i>, David Jenkins writes: "One thing that connects all of Pasolini's films is the unflinching way he photographs faces and bodies, finding a tremendous, grotesque beauty in the extras and supporting cast, displaying an almost Christ-like empathy towards all of God's creations." [Note: Unfortunately, both commentaries by Hittinger and Lev and David Jenkins are no longer available online.] </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyJcFotv1pHY07QkwJeAIxmFZodjmsU4vHVRejFbEjv8xGbixzzIFtQYe9yIAQzIge-8FE4NjmywuR7ec_jYF6O-_boAPRe_hbiGGxe69jORlbiSTHV-nk8mvPhfNZnD9bDvbzKVNY4CWNHFkCVDh2SlZd9frRD57e_V_PTLbhZ6-O9ytsQ/s341/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Enrique%20Irazoqui_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="265" data-original-width="341" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyJcFotv1pHY07QkwJeAIxmFZodjmsU4vHVRejFbEjv8xGbixzzIFtQYe9yIAQzIge-8FE4NjmywuR7ec_jYF6O-_boAPRe_hbiGGxe69jORlbiSTHV-nk8mvPhfNZnD9bDvbzKVNY4CWNHFkCVDh2SlZd9frRD57e_V_PTLbhZ6-O9ytsQ/w400-h311/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Enrique%20Irazoqui_01.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
Enrique Irazoqui as Jesus<style>@font-face
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></td></tr></tbody></table>At the <a href="http://www.lrb.co.uk/v35/n06/michael-wood/at-the-movies" target="new"><i>London Review of Books</i></a>, Michael Wood likewise extols the achievement of <i><b>Matthew</b></i>'s opening sequence, and Pasolini's repeated usage of the iconic countenance to further the Passion narrative. "Again and again," Wood writes, "we see faces—of Peter, of Judas, of Jesus himself—before we see anything else. They stare out of the frame at us, often expressionless. We stare at them and wait to know what they are looking at (apart from us, that is), what they can see inside the frame of their own world. We can often guess what it is, since we know the story, but it's tempting to wait anyway, just to let the weird non-acting work on us. This is not a matter of the neo-realist trick of using amateurs, as if amateurs were somehow more real than professionals. 'You are working, aren't you?' Brecht used to say to his actors. It's a matter, as I have already suggested, of not acting at all, whether you are any good at it or not. It's a matter of being photographed. The faces talk, not the expressions on them, or the absence of expression. In their differences from each other, in their actuality, their sense of belonging to a particular place and time (Italy, 1964, not Palestine, 28), they enact not the story of Christ but the mystery of the story." </p><p>In a slightly variant—though no less interesting take—Ara H. Merjian (author of <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/A/bo43233162.html" target="new"><b>Against the Avant-Garde: Pier Paolo Pasolini, Contemporary Art, and Neocapitalism</b>, 2020</a>) traces the affinities and contradictions between the unlikely pair of Pasolini and Andy Warhol in his think piece for <i>Frieze</i> magazine entitled <a href="https://www.frieze.com/article/mascots-muses" target="new">"Mascots & Muses"</a>, which—in effect—eroticizes (<i>i.e.</i>, queers) Pasolini's visual strategies. Merjian writes: "Notwithstanding the ideological chasm that separated them, Pasolini's and Warhol's eccentric orbits overlapped in a number of instances. Apropos of eccentricity, critics accused both men's work of unreconstructed narcissism—a thinly veiled euphemism for homosexuality and its bearing upon their art. Each, however, held at bay his identity (or identification) as a gay man, even as he helped to shape queer culture before Stonewall. Both enjoyed the company of mascots and muses, drawing upon them for artistic collaboration and personal frisson alike. The slow succession of apostles' faces in Pasolini's <b><i>The Gospel According to St. Matthew</i></b> (1964) recalls nothing if not Warhol's contemporaneous screen tests, a mix of eroticism and transcendence in their own right. Both Warhol and Pasolini availed themselves of delinquency (not to say criminality) as the stuff of aesthetic experiment." </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY2oi9gUWwzyNg8hFhlcYvdkrIPMjA-X_X_Ffe_bHGAUeLq0_BFlS_qW-pmbwheFHUN4Jhj9joNoK9bsyEuHLkhdvwrnaJTaYN5BgFsi2YX9ju0Lq1ptDkleruFJz1shaDQQq0xehUfEsyWH1gBaIhSQ-VEyHc5KWvo6Mtsl2s65r3GKk5w/s1280/@_Sestili,%20Otello_Judas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="1280" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnY2oi9gUWwzyNg8hFhlcYvdkrIPMjA-X_X_Ffe_bHGAUeLq0_BFlS_qW-pmbwheFHUN4Jhj9joNoK9bsyEuHLkhdvwrnaJTaYN5BgFsi2YX9ju0Lq1ptDkleruFJz1shaDQQq0xehUfEsyWH1gBaIhSQ-VEyHc5KWvo6Mtsl2s65r3GKk5w/w400-h215/@_Sestili,%20Otello_Judas.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Otello Sestili as Judas.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>As an aesthetic (if eroticized) experiment, the casting of the Apostles is equally noteworthy for reflecting Pasolini's literary acquaintances and suggesting Pasolini's sly projection of himself onto the figure of Christ (despite choosing someone else to portray Jesus). <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0785971/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_1" target="new">Otello Sestili</a>, who played Judas Iscariot, may have been a ruggedly handsome truck-driver from Rome; but, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enzo_Siciliano" target="new">Enzo Siciliano</a> (Simon), became Pasolini's first biographer years later with his 1995 volume <b>Who Killed Pasolini?</b>; <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alfonso_Gatto" target="new">Alfonso Gatto</a> (Andrew) was an author, poet, art critic and painter who later played a physician in Pasolini's <i><b>Teorema</b></i>; and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giorgio_Agamben" target="new">Giorgio Agamben</a> (Philip) was an eminent intellectual and philosopher. Of the other twelve, most were—as Merjian described them—"mascots" that Pasolini had discovered in the slums, and only the quite beautiful <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0053700/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Luigi Barbini</a> (James) joined Pasolini's ensemble after sidetracking momentarily into the sword and sandal feature <b><i>Hercules the Avenger</i> (1965)</b>. Barbini returned to work with Pasolini in <i><b>Porcile</b></i> and <i><b>Medea</b></i>, but most notably in <i><b>Teorema</b></i> where he wordlessly seduced Massimo Girotti in the train station with a proffered crotch.
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>The Massacre of the Innocents & The Visitation of the Wisemen</b> </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyBYFMOfjiSi8QqVrvbKgbQOYwnrugqJgXkzRM-MNJzHMXnazpqQS0weNfTOH6CuizuP7dEbD71XH0CClm1-yWtm1kp4rxrhpDtwJFnanYS-_ApBvImhqse-2GlQhgO6DJaghoahrkS0TMkGCnVCotD75JAdU2PayhMJM0SczexzBhL5YHQ/s468/@_Durgnat,%20Raymond.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="468" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvyBYFMOfjiSi8QqVrvbKgbQOYwnrugqJgXkzRM-MNJzHMXnazpqQS0weNfTOH6CuizuP7dEbD71XH0CClm1-yWtm1kp4rxrhpDtwJFnanYS-_ApBvImhqse-2GlQhgO6DJaghoahrkS0TMkGCnVCotD75JAdU2PayhMJM0SczexzBhL5YHQ/w400-h315/@_Durgnat,%20Raymond.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raymond Durgnat. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Several narrative challenges were presented to Pasolini in adapting Matthew's gospel to the screen; a gospel known less for narrative continuity and cohesion than for episodic moments depicting Christ's life and ministry. As <a href="http://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2013/09/raymond-durgnat-on-pasolinis-gospel.html" target="new">Raymond Durgnat</a> indicated in his critique for <i>Films & Filming</i>, Pasolini always responded intelligently to the challenges built into each episode, "but with varying success." Durgnat was critical of Pasolini's robust enactment of Herod's massacre of the innocents—which he considered "historically dubious"—and felt there were more important narrative elements Pasolini could have pursued but didn't. As is, however, <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2003/sep/21/entertainment/ca-turan21" target="new">Kenneth Turan</a> thought Pasolini's usage of the music Prokofiev wrote for the German slaughter of babies in Eisenstein's <i><b>Alexander Nevsky</b></i> fit perfectly for the scene, though Covey—having difficulty suspending disbelief—countered with a less appreciative take: "Herod's slaughter of the innocents provides some scenes that are both shocking and—at least, as I have always found them—unintentionally hilarious. The mothers running from the slaughtering soldiers with babes in arms are clearly carrying dolls in many cases, and when some of them are thrown in the air this becomes far too obvious, in a classic <i>Saturday Night Live</i> dummy-throwing sort of way." [Note: Covey’s film site <i>Covey On Film</i> no longer exists.]</p><p> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/-5U0-iO9rjM?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Jesus As Non-Actor</b> </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrV-CGGn9CBzdxYPs__EvsPC0npwFUlZdMBT_YRF2lYAjH8NjGeK7r918CUAazpE3QygIyqCQ4VUBGNIU74XuMJZlVztPcagtHIHihyzP9ff8xbxWgTYw9NuElG2xYzfm5u6XSv7qEoCuCh21W11lxPk35XrKR-LlBVoX-NbaUb-I8nYmgg/s460/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Enrique%20Irazoqui_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="460" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPrV-CGGn9CBzdxYPs__EvsPC0npwFUlZdMBT_YRF2lYAjH8NjGeK7r918CUAazpE3QygIyqCQ4VUBGNIU74XuMJZlVztPcagtHIHihyzP9ff8xbxWgTYw9NuElG2xYzfm5u6XSv7qEoCuCh21W11lxPk35XrKR-LlBVoX-NbaUb-I8nYmgg/w400-h240/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Enrique%20Irazoqui_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enrique Irazoqui as Jesus.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Pasolini condenses the biography of Jesus into three swift temporal strokes. Jesus is born and visited by the Wisemen, he is next shown as an infant of three or four, and then as a young man of 33. As an infant, he obeys Joseph's call and comes running towards him with a toy sword in his hand. Straightaway through such a tender image, Pasolini signals the revolutionary Jesus. By the time <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enrique_Irazoqui" target="new">Enrique Irazoqui</a> appears on the screen, we are ready for a spirited Jesus zealous for rebellion. </p><p>In her March 2004 piece "The Jesus Christ superstars; From DeMille to The Passion of The Christ, movies of the Gospels story have been charged with controversy" written for <i>The Herald</i>, Hannah McGill outlined Irazoqui's involvement in the project. McGill writes: "Arguably the most striking screen Jesus wasn't even an actor by trade. Enrique Irazoqui was a Catalan economics student and political activist, who, at the age of 19, visited Pier Paolo Pasolini to discuss the film-maker's work and to seek his support for the Spanish leftish movement. Pasolini, who had been searching for a lead for <i><b>The Gospel According To St Matthew</b></i> (1964), was struck by Irazoqui's resemblance to the long-faced, wide-eyed, sorrowful Christs of El Greco's paintings. 'Even before we had started talking,' the director later recalled, 'I said, "Excuse me, but would you act in one of my films?" ' Irazoqui's own response, as he later remembered it? 'I told him I had more important things to do, like the construction of the universal brotherhood.' Irazoqui was eventually persuaded to see the points of connection between Pasolini's mission and his own; but he provided only the physical presence required by the film. His lines were dubbed by the actor <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enrico_Maria_Salerno" target="new">Enrico Maria Salerno</a> [who likewise provided the voice of Clint Eastwood in the Italian version of Sergio Leone's Dollars Trilogy films]. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8c3RttJOBMCkoW0OwdzHTKVDaMpp8AJiVBrn8AGZ8CWegZV92aqo2OFByKLpWZw1utiBzucGGTgIlYCw0KrLq--6oXce1U5f0iaHYUxR21RxsZ6Y7yl_aVuiT0RdzsxeRKC8yDGz7GVzQCseQ3QtPcQl_VvwCY_eDDjltiwxqoP-MgBOhg/s1195/@_Pasolini%20on%20the%20set%20of%20The%20Gospel%20of%20Matthew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1195" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8c3RttJOBMCkoW0OwdzHTKVDaMpp8AJiVBrn8AGZ8CWegZV92aqo2OFByKLpWZw1utiBzucGGTgIlYCw0KrLq--6oXce1U5f0iaHYUxR21RxsZ6Y7yl_aVuiT0RdzsxeRKC8yDGz7GVzQCseQ3QtPcQl_VvwCY_eDDjltiwxqoP-MgBOhg/w400-h301/@_Pasolini%20on%20the%20set%20of%20The%20Gospel%20of%20Matthew.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pasolini and Irazoqui during filming. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>"Some were far from convinced. <a href="http://www.newrepublic.com/article/film/92939/tnr-film-classics-the-bible-october-22-1966" target="new">Pauline Kael</a> referred to Irazoqui as 'a loathsome, prissy young man', whose crucifixion she positively welcomed. Certainly he's a frail, smooth-skinned boy; it's not easy to accept that he's 33 years of age, or butch enough to have ever earned a living as a carpenter. But Irazoqui's lack of narcissistic actorly affectations was suited to the film's austere style, while his unsettling combination of <i>hauteur</i> and vulnerability fitted Pasolini's volatile, unpredictable Jesus. Meek and mild one minute, stormy-browed and threatening the next, this is the difficult, contradictory Jesus who preaches forgiveness but also declares, 'I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.' He also appears insecure about his own effectiveness; Pasolini emphasizes his tendency to fret and complain when attendance is patchy at his sermons, and to promise chastisement for those who fail to follow him. Rather than emanating sleek self-containment, and issuing forth perfectly finished nuggets of wisdom, Pasolini's Christ is stroppy and troubled, only sporadically confident about his own duties and responsibilities. </p><p>"Upon his return to Spain after shooting, Enrique Irazoqui had his passport confiscated by the Franco government for appearing in a film they considered to be Marxist propaganda. In later years, he became a noted economist and a professor of literature. Most intriguingly, he has earned an entirely separate fame, as a chess master and the creator and organizer of the world's largest chess computer tournament. A lifelong agnostic, Irazoqui now says: 'I have not returned to read the Gospel, and the relation that I have with Christ is through people who ask me.' " In a separate piece for <i>The Scotsman</i>, "A Story To Die For", Hannah McGill detailed that Enrique Irazoqui not only had his passport confiscated but was sentenced to 15 months' hard labor by the Spanish government. [Note: Hannah McGill’s <i>Herald</i> and <i>Scotsman</i> articles are no longer available online.] </p><p>At <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2013/feb/28/gospel-according-st-matthew-review" target="new"><i>The Guardian</i></a>, Peter Bradshaw described Enrique Irazoqui's portrayal of Jesus as "eerily, almost disturbingly self-possessed, emerging from the landscape like Bergman's Death in <i><b>The Seventh Seal</b></i>. His rhetoric is ceaseless and fluent, and his sermonizing is persistently presented as a kind of dreamlike montage of inspired insights and mysterious <i>aperçus</i>, with Pasolini's camera jump-cutting from Jesus's face at different places and times. This really is raw film-making, in a political vernacular which speaks of Pasolini's high, theocratic Marxist belief in the sovereignty of the people, like the publicans and the harlots that Christ said understood him."
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Baptisms of Divine Silence</b> </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOreFkl6A3d9j9YHC2l5NOLeeBTm26mwmUJxvMjPHVi3_xgHzOFm-OMRIJVseBHmUu9lp-v2Pgv-Z69At9tDHp6yQLPMwxeCbLgY5i_4xytvv_neRvg2lSHrNTFSdGYmmvvuXBuZIUx1wm3naSbWORN14tf4MRu0LNMfQakiM3skSbEU1ag/s1280/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Mario%20Socrate%20(John%20the%20Baptist).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="1280" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOreFkl6A3d9j9YHC2l5NOLeeBTm26mwmUJxvMjPHVi3_xgHzOFm-OMRIJVseBHmUu9lp-v2Pgv-Z69At9tDHp6yQLPMwxeCbLgY5i_4xytvv_neRvg2lSHrNTFSdGYmmvvuXBuZIUx1wm3naSbWORN14tf4MRu0LNMfQakiM3skSbEU1ag/w400-h215/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Mario%20Socrate%20(John%20the%20Baptist).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mario Socrate as John the Baptist.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>One of Pasolini's strategies to work out the challenges of adapting scripture to screen was to create a parallel narrative between Jesus and John the Baptist (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0811992/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Mario Socrate</a>), who Bosley Crowther described as "a subdued firebrand in a poet's angular frame." <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2012/apr/08/gospel-according-matthew-pasolini-dvd" target="new">Philip French</a> described Socrate as "scrawny, balding, undernourished, with a mouthful of bad teeth and the radiance of a true believer." For me, however, the baptism of Jesus by John the Baptist at the River Jordan links <i><b>The Gospel According to Matthew</b></i> to a later version of the Passion: Martin Scorsese's <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_Temptation_of_Christ_(film)" target="new"><b><i>The Last Temptation of Christ</i> (1988)</b></a>. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvEX5dT1DTh93-iWuBsySlZSTjKEgPOyEnpdKq_JJmOZ_6kG6QKuHsghXhyc52mooUQ81A0NFl9YVRdJPvxz5gOY2GYIhkic0LappsUQZ0dVTY-pdSI0_uxrwEqTsaAH6y64bQ_XvyvvaoM7OeRwy2XZX82DCkHDzvO4kq989xTEO7FHeGQ/s1000/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Rosanna%20de%20Roco%20(Angel).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="1000" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvEX5dT1DTh93-iWuBsySlZSTjKEgPOyEnpdKq_JJmOZ_6kG6QKuHsghXhyc52mooUQ81A0NFl9YVRdJPvxz5gOY2GYIhkic0LappsUQZ0dVTY-pdSI0_uxrwEqTsaAH6y64bQ_XvyvvaoM7OeRwy2XZX82DCkHDzvO4kq989xTEO7FHeGQ/w400-h215/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Rosanna%20de%20Roco%20(Angel).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rossana Di Rocco as the Angel.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Countenances that express themselves through non-verbal communiques differ significantly (if slightly) from a related yet separate element in Pasolini's narrative that impressed me when I first watched the film; that of divine presence as silence. As synopsized earlier, in the film's opening sequence Joseph has wandered away to work out his thoughts and feelings. He wearies and stops to rest and—just before falling asleep—watches some children noisily playing. He is bolted awake by complete silence and—where the children had been playing—now stands a solitary figure, a beautiful and slightly androgynous angel (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0224251/reference" target="new">Rossana Di Rocco</a>), who <i>speaks</i> the will of God. </p><p>Perhaps this would not have caught my attention had I not already observed the same cinematic strategy in <i><b>The Last Temptation of Christ</b></i> when John baptizes Jesus at the River Jordan. As that scene is introduced in Scorsese's film, the River Jordan is flanked by penitents and zealots, several whipping themselves, emitting cries of pain. When John baptizes Jesus, suddenly there is complete and total silence. Scorsese's camera pans the riverbank—the self-flagellators are still jumping up and down and whipping themselves—but there are no cries, no sound at all. This was Scorsese's way of depicting the descent of the Holy Spirit who <i>speaks</i> the word of God, "This is my son in whom I am well pleased…." Scorsese, of course, doesn't require these words to be said aloud because those who know the story are familiar with what the Holy Spirit says. It's a potent ellipse: delivering a familiar line of dialogue in a well-known story through complete silence. At the time I saw <i><b>The Last Temptation of Christ</b></i>, I considered this downright brilliant; but, now that I've seen <i><b>Matthew</b></i>, I would be interested to determine whether Scorsese lifted his interpretation of divine presence as silence directly from Pasolini's <i><b>Matthew</b></i>? </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcllcjjutez1QiBTgRymFr1oSzFcgVi0SHACoTh_ZpSjHmN9hKKXVsM-F7bE-9Dh1S-qUeGlkfYdHd8lfNeXK4oWkbMj3exQci5r5QNBbNzDPmvMyWOir5oi-F5ys3lgVpDPd13zSz355GEiUns4T68LzVFQ8pT_dBGrUT9ThKkpARmYdrzA/s1093/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Salome.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1093" data-original-width="1071" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcllcjjutez1QiBTgRymFr1oSzFcgVi0SHACoTh_ZpSjHmN9hKKXVsM-F7bE-9Dh1S-qUeGlkfYdHd8lfNeXK4oWkbMj3exQci5r5QNBbNzDPmvMyWOir5oi-F5ys3lgVpDPd13zSz355GEiUns4T68LzVFQ8pT_dBGrUT9ThKkpARmYdrzA/w314-h320/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Salome.jpeg" width="314" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paola Tedesco as Salome.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>One final visual element that intrigued me within Pasolini's rendering of the parallel narrative of John the Baptist is how he shows Salome, quite a young girl, playing jacks before being called to dance before Herod. Her childish innocence makes her request all the more brutal. How chilling that such a lovely traipsing dance could result in a severed head on a plate.
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>The Miracles</b> </p><p>To depict the miracles written about by Matthew in his gospel, Pasolini had to create his film as if he believed in these miracles—or, more accurately, as he knew others believed in them—but, such divinity is problematic for a revolutionary, historic Jesus and might not have necessarily even been Pasolini's point, which might account for why Pasolini presents the miracles so matter-of-factly—more as a discourse on how miracles have traditionally been depicted cinematically—and how cinematic tradition comports itself with a religious one, both to advance the narrative strategies of each other. Pasolini fulfills the tradition, but not without slyly winking and revealing this age-old collusion. </p><p>As astutely observed, again by David Jenkins at <i>Little White Lies</i>: "Even though Pasolini's film offers traditional religious nourishment aplenty, there is still the sense that he's delicately manipulating the material to mine a more sophisticated seam. The manner in which he films the actual miracles is fascinating: they all occur very suddenly with a single cut. Not only is he happy to accept that Jesus was able to perform physical miracles, he also makes a point about cinema. For Pasolini, every cut is a potential miracle." </p><p>At <a href="http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9800E2D9143CE53BBC4052DFB466838D679EDE" target="new"><i>The New York Times</i></a>, Bosley Crowther writes: "The cryptic performances of the miracles—the healing of a hideously grotesque leper, the feeding of the multitudes, the walking on water and others—are pictorially done so that they seem the simple, straight, quick-change recordings of inexplicable phenomena." At <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/film/2012/apr/08/gospel-according-matthew-pasolini-dvd" target="new"><i>The Guardian</i></a>, Peter Bradshaw describes the healing of the leper as bearing a "strangely unselfconscious innocence" and Philip French winnows out Pasolini's treatment of the Miracle of the Fishes: "The miracles are confronted head on, but when the loaves and fishes suddenly appear they're rapidly covered by flies. This is how this fringe of the Roman empire must have appeared to people at the time." </p><p>As for Jesus walking on the water—a scene Pasolini later regretted as overly capitulative to the faithful—Enrique Irazoqui explained on the <i>Arts & Faith</i> bulletin board: "It was difficult not to fall in the water every other second. The scene was shot with a long tele lens and it was a matter of faking the walk lifting one leg at a time over a wooden board tied up to some empty big drums. Fun, but very wet a few times." [Note: The <i>Arts & Faith</i> bulletin board is no longer online.]
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>The Sermon on the Mount</b> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9MpMGjtoIyQsEeB7W5mEv-sfQNg6KUHStCjM-Ue9FbJW8DDBQG_k_IGqpTkc0M0u08aQhgiV7dC3He4eddLyompwlOFdYd1Gm68oAXxRDyjcnn3MOfqulHIgHDwaOpHjD844_D0J_neRA8M2ZCoyXRPipvnH9olC5-RXZZgWZ0astEZkyHw/s351/@_Q.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="351" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9MpMGjtoIyQsEeB7W5mEv-sfQNg6KUHStCjM-Ue9FbJW8DDBQG_k_IGqpTkc0M0u08aQhgiV7dC3He4eddLyompwlOFdYd1Gm68oAXxRDyjcnn3MOfqulHIgHDwaOpHjD844_D0J_neRA8M2ZCoyXRPipvnH9olC5-RXZZgWZ0astEZkyHw/s320/@_Q.jpg" width="274" /></a></div>Along with the pure imagery of <i><b>Matthew</b></i>'s opening sequence, Pasolini is at his most inventive in depicting Christ's ministry, his teachings and sermons. Pasolini unpacks the text of the Sermon on the Mount by fracturing this familiar narrative into many moments of time differentiated by changing weather. Shifting angles, various combinations of light and shadow, instill a sense of a ministry repeated over time with different—perhaps increasing?—audiences. For me this sequence lends visual provocation to the controversial <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Q_source" target="new">Q Source</a>, an oral tradition from which many notable portions of the New Testament are said to have originated, including many of the parables delivered in this sequence. As the film's centerpiece, this montage distills Pasolini's perspective, which places prime importance on Christ's teachings delivered by way of an oral tradition. For Pasolini, the Historical Jesus and the Resurrected Christ capsize into the essential truth of these teachings. <p></p><p>Covey emphasizes that Pasolini "cherry picks some of the most famous material from the Sermon of the Mount" but in no order that corresponds to Matthew's gospel or the others. Covey argues: "This apparent randomization amounts to a classic Marxist tactic—defamiliarization. By shuffling the deck he seems to be challenging the churched viewer to hear these texts, many of them quite radical, for the first time. And by presenting Jesus against various backdrops he makes it clear to possible objectors that he is anthologizing the material." [Note: Again, Covey’s review is no longer online.]</p><p> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/L-nY29bW2LA?rel=0" width="560"></iframe>
<b> </b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>The Final Week</b> </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vcPNtL-5muc1PjDQt0AV6LatU8BL3ORf39R9190adD4i7--FRlUkeLC-8uwfFSOLW7FFFm3iBr1buK2ZbMhaYAC0puXOEJKGXpvVr0p3GRSFI_eCov9rIusph-OJs9UrU3ELsiYtL74Xizu2fBnB0tjJG9mCLl1Q--3yEX7WScOgcCrxug/s425/matthew_bw07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="313" data-original-width="425" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0vcPNtL-5muc1PjDQt0AV6LatU8BL3ORf39R9190adD4i7--FRlUkeLC-8uwfFSOLW7FFFm3iBr1buK2ZbMhaYAC0puXOEJKGXpvVr0p3GRSFI_eCov9rIusph-OJs9UrU3ELsiYtL74Xizu2fBnB0tjJG9mCLl1Q--3yEX7WScOgcCrxug/w400-h295/matthew_bw07.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enrique Irazoqui as Jesus.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The events leading to Christ's crucifixion are handled quickly and somewhat dispassionately by Pasolini. <a href="http://movies.nytimes.com/movie/review?res=9800E2D9143CE53BBC4052DFB466838D679EDE" target="new">Bosley Crowther</a> noted Pasolini's simple staging of The Last Supper "as a gathering of a tired, disquieted group" and I love Crowther's line regarding Gethsemane where he says Jesus "looks upon his delinquent disciples in Gethsemane with deep and curling hurt." In his intelligent critique, <a href="http://www.lrb.co.uk/v35/n06/michael-wood/at-the-movies" target="new">Michael Wood</a> asserts: "Christ returns from his agonized prayer in Gethsemane … to find the disciples sleeping. It's easy to see the fable here, and we all know it. The saviour keeps watch, his followers doze: this note of slackness and betrayal is everywhere in these pages of the gospel, and the sleep is just a minor, almost comic variant on Peter's tragic denial of his master. But here, with exemplary discretion, Pasolini shows us three men huddled at the foot of a tree, not symbolically inattentive, but literally asleep like actual people, and when they wake and are rebuked they are merely, humanly puzzled. They won't understand their defection till later, and Pasolini's image lets us understand this, catches the moment before it goes. It's an instance of what Godard called truth in the cinema, a piece of passing time seen passing." </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4kOOt2_P1s1bCxrGbsr3D0fBMZPmhkveIK9mMYFrnlxDwaGsKgeLwRU2TJ60IMOrEUO0Oo6TMm6HQ239DNMGJ-idFs8_h-fb4lLInl1-qwCTIJoOhSsFFLahqq2XF0FKns4mQ1UIYiy4EzdbulUte5iKpTprt1xewG2nQOF-ks8S13MdjQ/s1280/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Settimo%20di%20Porto%20(Peter).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="688" data-original-width="1280" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp4kOOt2_P1s1bCxrGbsr3D0fBMZPmhkveIK9mMYFrnlxDwaGsKgeLwRU2TJ60IMOrEUO0Oo6TMm6HQ239DNMGJ-idFs8_h-fb4lLInl1-qwCTIJoOhSsFFLahqq2XF0FKns4mQ1UIYiy4EzdbulUte5iKpTprt1xewG2nQOF-ks8S13MdjQ/w400-h215/@_Pasolini_Gospel%20According%20to%20Matthew_Settimo%20di%20Porto%20(Peter).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Settimio Di Porto as Peter.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Crowther describes <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0224224/reference" target="new">Settimio Di Porto</a>'s Peter as "a fine, solid, foursquare man" and adds "the omission of the sound effect of a cock's crow after Peter's third denial—helps to achieve a fresh illusion of the unfolding of an ancient tragedy, or at least the illusion of the performance of a most reverent and sincere Passion Play." </p><p>Finally, as Mary, Pasolini cast his own mother Susanna, which John Wrathall at <i>The Independent</i> opined had more to do with Pasolini's ego than with any desire to further his mother's acting ambitions. "And, if we're being ungenerous," Viv Wilby quips at <a href="http://mostlyfilm.com/2012/04/05/4680/" target="new"><i>Mostly Film</i></a>, "casting your mother as Mary and dedicating your film to the memory of the recently deceased pope, John XXIII, seem like the acts of a sentimental altar boy." [Note: John Wrathall’s <i>Independent</i> piece is no longer online.] </p><p>Having already surrounded himself with apostles cast from his "mascots" and literary associates, Pasolini had already impressed himself onto the figure of Jesus, and casting his mother as Mary may have been his way of amplifying his Christian moment.
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-7102451798827299352022-11-09T22:35:00.002-08:002022-11-09T22:35:38.766-08:00AFF 2022—OPENING NIGHT: The Blue Caftan (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX3MECgsbajeSJ26PPA6-OKGyxDYysEOrT9Qje5DN3Li-h0-oW2QIqvV-Tz62RtgCZ8E9XESD3TTFLkZKrQwaAMCATPck0QAjJeXNeiWUzmyJe-ay7T3yGqJYDOYFqSm_Lec0jUYOREuFDQTSZ0MrzvicLnkepkvUJo150GWCabFNddUY8Kg/s1618/@_AFF_The%20Blue%20Caftan%20(2022).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1126" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX3MECgsbajeSJ26PPA6-OKGyxDYysEOrT9Qje5DN3Li-h0-oW2QIqvV-Tz62RtgCZ8E9XESD3TTFLkZKrQwaAMCATPck0QAjJeXNeiWUzmyJe-ay7T3yGqJYDOYFqSm_Lec0jUYOREuFDQTSZ0MrzvicLnkepkvUJo150GWCabFNddUY8Kg/w279-h400/@_AFF_The%20Blue%20Caftan%20(2022).jpg" width="279" /></a></div><p>Husband and wife Halim (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2759746/?ref_=tt_cl_t_2" target="new">Saleh Bakri</a>) and Mina (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0044073/?ref_=tt_cl_t_1" target="new">Lubna Azabal</a>) run a traditional caftan store in one of Morocco’s oldest <i>medinas</i>. In order to keep up with the commands of the demanding customers, they hire Youssef (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm13718373/?ref_=tt_cl_i_3" target="new">Ayoub Missioui</a>), who Halim takes on as an apprentice. Halim seeks to impart his experience as a <i>maalem</i>, a vanishing breed of Moroccan craftsman specializing in stitched embroidery on ceremonial caftans. In an early scene between the two men Halim instructs Youssef on the basic skill of cutting fabric, advising him to always give himself some leeway. “If you cut too much,” he cautions, “there’s no going back. And always leave yourself an extra centimeter. That’s your margin. The <i>maalem</i>’s centimeter.” Which approximates the measure of discretion that each man owes himself when dealing with hidden desires.
</p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm5685112/?ref_=tt_cl_dr_1" target="new">Maryam Touzani</a>’s sophomore feature film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt17679584/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new"><b><i>The Blue Caftan</i> (2022)</b></a> premiered at Cannes in the Un Certain Regard section, where it was awarded the FIPRESCI Prize. It has likewise been chosen as Morocco’s official submission for the “Best International Feature Film” category of the 95th Academy Awards (2023). <i><b>The Blue Caftan</b></i>’s controversial subject matter is compassionately finessed by Touzani and movingly enacted by seasoned performers Bakri (<b><i>The Band’s Visit</i>, 2007</b>) and Azabal (<b><i>Mary Magdalen</i>, 2018</b>) and newcomer Missioui. It’s a brave <a href="https://aff2022.eventive.org/films/the-blue-caftan-631a09921dce900052abc60d" target="new">opening night choice for the 26th edition of San Francisco’s Arab Film Festival</a> and bound to be a crowdpleaser when it raises the curtain at the Castro Theatre on Friday, November 11, 2022 with the director present to field questions. A second chance will be had to catch the film when it screens at the Roxie Theater on Saturday, November 19, 2022.</p><p> <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="620" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" mozallowfullscreen="" scrolling="no" src="https://cineuropa.org/en/videoembed/426022/rdid/425619/" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="620"></iframe>
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-44853179569774737862022-11-08T21:39:00.002-08:002022-11-08T21:39:45.921-08:00AFF 2022—Queer Lens Shorts (Diaspora & Displacement)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ46imdwSTbk5t2LO4hu6NmQYtizrfZ-sG-ZOtR9j6pqKKMx0ccpM5LeuTCBb4xTU0vmxpBgcaQIhFDuYY54IZ1HdQIGDQw5qbET0gPVkuWa7ML84WHsl5z5I38UKxlSD81qoT_48Oa3_t5fgpaYZYCloJ-4iIqiaT7PMU6w2wEfWC4TbRig/s1920/@_AFF_banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="1920" height="58" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ46imdwSTbk5t2LO4hu6NmQYtizrfZ-sG-ZOtR9j6pqKKMx0ccpM5LeuTCBb4xTU0vmxpBgcaQIhFDuYY54IZ1HdQIGDQw5qbET0gPVkuWa7ML84WHsl5z5I38UKxlSD81qoT_48Oa3_t5fgpaYZYCloJ-4iIqiaT7PMU6w2wEfWC4TbRig/w400-h58/@_AFF_banner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p><br />Like paper flowers in water, short films possess the capacity to expand small intimate stories into larger dimensions of meaning and relevance. “Short” and “small” convert into narrative snapshots of lives that open up to join a comprehensive, composite portrait of culture; in this instance Arab culture and the queer subculture struggling within it.
For the 26th edition of San Francisco’s <a href="https://aff2022.eventive.org/welcome" target="new">Arab Film Festival (“AFF”)</a>, their annual <a href="https://aff2022.eventive.org/schedule/shorts-queer-lens-634cbe40006fd0009eb2d763" target="new">Queer Lens</a> program admirably "celebrates the multi-dimensional formations of Arab queerness in stories that so urgently need to be told, especially in today’s polarized media climate that leaves issues of visibility lost in the haze, or, worse: cast in a one-size-fits-all “Western Queer Narrative” that ignores the many complexities and nuances faced by LGBTQ+ persons in the Arab World and beyond." <br /></p><p>This year’s program focuses on the theme of "Diaspora & Displacement" by featuring an award-winning quintet of short films that highlight the experiences of Queer Arabs around the globe. As stated by AFF: “The characters in these stories all find themselves at the intersection of their identities. Some must reconcile the reality of their sexuality with a family who loves but does not understand, others work towards a life lived authentically in a society that does not accept them and a few explore leaving a place that is not safe even though it means letting go of those they care about. In this collection, audiences will find stories that may be unique in their details but are deeply relatable at their core and despite the difficulties, celebrate honesty and love.”
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><a href="https://theuneven.com/habib-the-thief" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAbAKLi1lqcAxBYJ2-tcb0_bVRUMz2OJaZpvYfSkWTTgQcNS6NqP01Zs7iZixMsM7B7CD1FVX0ew7eJQReBIX7gSVfU7fuvHnEe3C2E-GW82_p3lYr5CL0HS8kzGJO0fdmPUVjHQM1LKNHtEpBupMKWExLS-mpnbAYXIjUok1ze-T6R9TXQ/s2924/@_AFF_Habib%20&%20the%20Thief%20(2022)_poster.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2924" data-original-width="2066" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAbAKLi1lqcAxBYJ2-tcb0_bVRUMz2OJaZpvYfSkWTTgQcNS6NqP01Zs7iZixMsM7B7CD1FVX0ew7eJQReBIX7gSVfU7fuvHnEe3C2E-GW82_p3lYr5CL0HS8kzGJO0fdmPUVjHQM1LKNHtEpBupMKWExLS-mpnbAYXIjUok1ze-T6R9TXQ/w283-h400/@_AFF_Habib%20&%20the%20Thief%20(2022)_poster.jpeg" width="283" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>Habib & The Thief</i> (2022)</b>. Resilient optimism is the presiding theme of this competently-produced 15-minute short by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm6156915/?ref_=fn_al_nm_0" target="new">Naures Sager</a>. My first observation is how the gay subculture, as manifested in the United States, has swept into other countries and cultures with the swirling flourish of a glittering full-length cape and the carefree abandon of club music; the dreaded Westernization that Muslim countries conservatively abhor. <p></p><p>In an unexpected moment of magical realism, two flamboyant gay men dressed in flashy party clothes disguise themselves in the head-to-toe black garb of heterosexual conformity. Though this narrative occurs in an unnamed Arab country (I’m presuming Iraq), cultural attitudes nonetheless underscore its fagbashing sequence, always difficult to witness, yet somehow redeemed here by the positive attitude that the <i>true</i> theft in this story is caped in desire. Robert Hannouch as Habib and Jonathan Kara as The Thief convincingly enact the lengths that two men forced to conceal their true identities to their condemning cultures will steal their joy and their dignity in the face of cultural oppression. </p><p>Naures Sager is an Iraqi-Swedish Filmmaker. He is the founder of the platform <a href="https://theuneven.com/" target="new">The Uneven</a>, which focuses on LGBTQ+ films and human rights. The invitations for the premiere of the film <i><b>I Am Reva</b></i> caused national attention in Sweden as they were designed as deportation letters and sent to a 109 well-known Swedes. Naures won the Pixel Talent Award 2020 and his short film <i><b>1-1</b></i> is touring around the world at different film festivals and screening on Swedish Television (SVT Play). <i><b>Habib & the Thief</b></i> is his most current project.
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt20596614/?ref_=nm_flmg_dr_1" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheTaK6zQXmtue9s4MiODTE3pRDqXg4vp-bsEt2_J92hlPrM6N0zCUOXmYgiynsTAui4uER5FmjikQDtQ334qnI8FVgOUK8cqVJYblQGESlEgWDgPrnt9bQyuwu5RPn4g6yJtbTdx0nTiIGShm24stc3rb_ulNMzlHr-4_QJid0T1m6yPTMTg/s1618/@_AFF_The%20Window%20(2022)_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheTaK6zQXmtue9s4MiODTE3pRDqXg4vp-bsEt2_J92hlPrM6N0zCUOXmYgiynsTAui4uER5FmjikQDtQ334qnI8FVgOUK8cqVJYblQGESlEgWDgPrnt9bQyuwu5RPn4g6yJtbTdx0nTiIGShm24stc3rb_ulNMzlHr-4_QJid0T1m6yPTMTg/w280-h400/@_AFF_The%20Window%20(2022)_poster.jpg" width="280" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>The Window</i> (2022)</b>. Two attractive Lebanese women, Basma (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm13700188/?ref_=tt_ov_st" target="new">Sophia Moussa Fitch</a>) and Mariam (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm11929341/?ref_=tt_ov_st" target="new">Tamara Saade</a>), reunite a year after Beirut's port explosion in a bedroom they once shared and whose large picture windows face what’s left of the port’s remains. “How can you sleep here?” Basma asks Mariam, stating that the window looks out on a “fucked up country”, which she has fled to lead a safer, more honest life, whereas Mariam has remained behind in a sheltered and compromised relationship with a man. The two women have, as they say, “history.” <p></p><p>The conjoined image of Basma’s shadowed silhouette cast on the wall next to a cracked mirror in which she is also reflected signals how she remains a threat to Mariam, a traumatized lesbian trying to keep her desires “out of sight, out of mind.” The revelation of their attraction to each other is as explosive as their shared experience of the bomb that hit the port, though in this instance it implodes into an exhausted silence. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zeid_Hamdan" target="new">Zeid Hamdan</a>’s closing vocal “Balekeh” plaintively enunciates the sound of that implosion while the view through the window remains indifferent to their ruptured relationship.
</p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4140877/?ref_=tt_ov_dr" target="new">Sarah Kaskas</a> deftly negotiates this intimate two-hander, poignant "against the chaos of Beirut." An award-winning Lebanese filmmaker, producer and co-founder of <a href="https://karaajfilms.com/" target="new">Karaaj Films</a>, Kaskas focuses on the struggles and perseverance of marginalized communities. Her films have been touring world renowned festivals such as Tribeca, Aspen Shortsfest, Odense International and Hollyshorts. In 2016, Sarah released <i><b>Bread and Tea</b></i> which premiered and won Best Short Documentary at Cinéma Vérité. Her feature documentary <i><b>Underdown</b></i> premiered at IDFA in 2018 and picked up 5 awards including the Grand Prix at Mediteran Film Festival and the Jury Prize at Malmö Arab Film Festival. Her short documentary <i><b>STRUCK</b></i> and short fiction <i><b>The Window</b></i> were both completed in 2021 and are currently on tour. In 2022, Sarah joined the producing team of <i><b>Beirut Dreams in Color</b></i>, a documentary which was commissioned by <i>The Guardian</i> and is now streaming worldwide on its platforms. Sarah is developing her second feature film while working as a film educator with universities and NGOs.
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt12515756/?ref_=fn_al_tt_17" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQyNhL0Eg3k8mZ5lG1aj9Z2v8b_R0JsC0yvCw-yJ-sxB2iMYnnj_lL1t9Yr-z_EtJfCJlp0T3KDin63XZ96PRVs-ETnujmUlrfYRFrlPDJecuK6BAiovtQQ8hnDgouqg2tT9eLJ8gzVYfpMT_7ZVqXulbQYaMTPKJy7DaZ59rhXLPQ_AgdA/s1618/@_AFF_Faraway%20(2020)_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1084" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdQyNhL0Eg3k8mZ5lG1aj9Z2v8b_R0JsC0yvCw-yJ-sxB2iMYnnj_lL1t9Yr-z_EtJfCJlp0T3KDin63XZ96PRVs-ETnujmUlrfYRFrlPDJecuK6BAiovtQQ8hnDgouqg2tT9eLJ8gzVYfpMT_7ZVqXulbQYaMTPKJy7DaZ59rhXLPQ_AgdA/w268-h400/@_AFF_Faraway%20(2020)_poster.jpg" width="268" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>Faraway</i> (2020)</b>. Filial duty and obligation is a haunt for gay men forced to hide their true natures from family members unable or unwilling to accept their orientation. I’ve long felt it’s a form of child abuse when parents refuse to embrace a gay son or shame them for defying expectation, yet <i><b>Faraway</b></i> does a good job of showing how one young man negotiates his absence and distance from his mother over the course of a year. Knowing that who you are causes someone you love so much anguish is always a painful insight, and knowing that where you have to be in order to become yourself might mean moving far away from family is a standard hurdle for young gay men leaving home, and no less heartfelt. Childhood can’t wait for the parent to grow up, that’s true, but young adulthood also can’t wait for a parent to come to terms.
<p></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm9385669/?ref_=tt_ov_dr" target="new">Aziz Zoromba</a> is a Canadian-Egyptian director and producer. His work, documentary and fiction, mainly explore themes of cultural identity, family life, coming of age and the repercussions of being a second generation Canadian. His short films <b><i>Leila</i> (2017)</b>, <b><i>Amal</i> (2018)</b> and <b><i>Faraway</i> (2020)</b> have screened internationally at dozens of festivals. He is a recipient of the 2019 Sundance Ignite Fellowship from the Sundance Institute. Aziz also produced the short documentary <b><i>No Crying at the Dinner Table</i> (2019)</b>, selected at over 75 Festivals around the world and winner of over 15 awards, including the Grand Prize for Best Short Documentary at the SXSW Film Festival, qualifying the film for an Academy Award®.
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt18399116/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_2" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_HcDGKJBGdOmDvpj8RudGlSVD8QobgCS8lb25x5dhhkjz9zHovyN9j9bJgkmu5Z0U5WLuEHX0A7xfg4uhrNUTMvPSVfeTjcy1uBcfE4Gm78S_RUiMHzhOrXibiqMmQQ7_UB2r4HwfmRA22JoLzNYd6qzg4rNSyJJHduPpB-Lvr5Qq9jCfQ/s1618/@_AFF_Dress-up%20(2022).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="920" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic_HcDGKJBGdOmDvpj8RudGlSVD8QobgCS8lb25x5dhhkjz9zHovyN9j9bJgkmu5Z0U5WLuEHX0A7xfg4uhrNUTMvPSVfeTjcy1uBcfE4Gm78S_RUiMHzhOrXibiqMmQQ7_UB2r4HwfmRA22JoLzNYd6qzg4rNSyJJHduPpB-Lvr5Qq9jCfQ/w228-h400/@_AFF_Dress-up%20(2022).jpg" width="228" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>Dress Up</i> (2022)</b>. <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm10385815/?ref_=tt_ov_dr" target="new">Karina Dandashi</a> pulls triple duty as screenwriter, director and lead actress in her short <i><b>Dress Up</b></i> where—on the eve of her sister’s wedding—Karina introduces her “best friend” to her family and then begins to feel anxious about not satisfying family expectations. Covertly, she puts on her sister’s wedding dress to feel for a moment what she might have felt playing the role expected of her, but (of course) it’s not who she’s meant to be. This sad realization is mollified by her sister’s loving empathy. This is a delicate tale of a sister supporting the difference of her lesbian sibling. <p></p><p>Karina Dandashi is a queer Syrian-American Muslim writer, director, and actor born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA. Her films explore nuances in identity through the intersection of family, religion, and culture in Southwest Asian and North African (SWANA) and Muslim communities in America. Karina is a 2020 Creative Culture Fellow at The Jacob Burns Film Center and a 2021 Sundance Ignite Fellow. She was featured in Marie Claire’s inaugural <i>Creators Issue</i> as one of the “Top 21 Creators to Watch”. She is currently writing her first feature film.
</p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt16419812/?ref_=fn_al_tt_2" target="new"><i></i></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtGK7RcVU1EK4yI26NB72vmriwa7poAmA2b1VYaamBTGAYxLytJnPcLLtZntm_t-jiHa-Zt21aD-CmKWbTr03moflIsd9ewPn2qBdoOO_avRgOkemhggJ2LJS_BVBDpVEvCiKb3YpFciT8k-CZfK_JbF1-11MjFte9dcRZou7uQ9IhauBug/s1618/@_AFF_Warsha%20(2022).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1146" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtGK7RcVU1EK4yI26NB72vmriwa7poAmA2b1VYaamBTGAYxLytJnPcLLtZntm_t-jiHa-Zt21aD-CmKWbTr03moflIsd9ewPn2qBdoOO_avRgOkemhggJ2LJS_BVBDpVEvCiKb3YpFciT8k-CZfK_JbF1-11MjFte9dcRZou7uQ9IhauBug/w284-h400/@_AFF_Warsha%20(2022).jpg" width="284" /></a></i></div><i>Warshaw</i> (2022). The hypermasculine and homophobic construction site where gay Lebanese Mohammad (Khansa) works compels him to hazard a dangerous crane just so he can have enough private space removed from disapproving eyes to enact his secret passion high above the city: lipsynching Uum Kulthum. Cinematographer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4783548/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr8#cinematographer" target="new">Shadi Chaaban</a>’s stunning vertiginous overhead shots combined with evocative superimpositions capture Mohammad’s exhilarating victory.
<p></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4679017/?ref_=tt_ov_dr" target="new">Dania Bdeir</a> is a Lebanese award-winning writer and director. She’s a member of the Brooklyn Filmmakers Collective, has a BA in Graphic Design from the American University of Beirut and an MFA in directing from NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts where she received a full scholarship in her third year. In 2019, Dania was selected as a Berlinale Talent and participated in its Short Film Station with <i><b>Warsha</b></i>, a co-production between Inter Spinas Films (France), GoGoGo Films (France) and Né à Beyrouth Films (Lebanon). Dania is currently based in Dubai and is developing her first feature film <b><i>Pigeon Wars</i></b> which was selected for the 2018-2019 Torino Film Lab x DFI Hezaya Screenwriting lab, the 2021 Cine Qua Non Storylines lab and the 2021 Nostos Screenwriting Retreat. </p><p>The in-person screenings for “Queer Lens: Diaspora & Displacement” will be on Saturday, November 12, 2022, 6:45PM, at the <a href="https://www.thenewparkway.com/" target="new">New Parkway Theater</a>, 474 24th St, Oakland, CA 94612. Attentive to festival hybridity, the program will also be available for at-home streaming on November 12 through November 20, 2022 (purchase streaming passes <a href="https://watch.eventive.org/aff2022/play/6327a48c26568d01d3c04e21" target="new">here</a>), admirably available throughout the United States.
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-14532891805052183622022-11-07T10:06:00.003-08:002022-11-07T10:06:27.606-08:00BAM/PFA—Pier Paolo Pasolini Retrospective (2022)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRGnMOlb2kPErsAxoCH_OV3h3y36rkBtZngjuMTLryFekKZXWWxQnw5Rra1vVwAJLm0b5_SRMblXQb1E_TSKG1TRi9ySfgnpOuR-FGiSllDXQI2KPk1q6HG_z0EEA13dsKrDiEsDzO2hR8oRpnMisEBgqytyk6CuHAuOACMa4EB2fy0xqoQ/s656/@_Pasolini,%20Pier%20Paolo_bw01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="492" data-original-width="656" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQRGnMOlb2kPErsAxoCH_OV3h3y36rkBtZngjuMTLryFekKZXWWxQnw5Rra1vVwAJLm0b5_SRMblXQb1E_TSKG1TRi9ySfgnpOuR-FGiSllDXQI2KPk1q6HG_z0EEA13dsKrDiEsDzO2hR8oRpnMisEBgqytyk6CuHAuOACMa4EB2fy0xqoQ/w400-h300/@_Pasolini,%20Pier%20Paolo_bw01.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Nine years ago the Bay Area celebrated a <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2013/09/pasolini-film-retrospective.html" target="new">Pier Paolo Pasolini (2013) retrospective</a> that provided the welcome opportunity to view most of his films. Enthused, at <i>The Evening Class</i> I assembled a listing of all the <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2013/09/pfa-cine-files-on-pasolini.html" target="new">PFA Cine-Files</a> available at the time. I also compiled <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2013/09/rosenbaum-on-pasolini.html" target="new">Jonathan Rosenbaum’s writings on the director</a> and assembled <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-gospel-according-to-matthew-il.html" target="new">a critical overview of one of my favorite Pasolini vehicles <b><i>The Gospel According to Matthew</i> (1964)</b></a>. I also profiled Alfredo Jaar’s short documentary <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-ashes-of-pasolini-le-ceneri-di.html" target="new"><b><i>The Ashes of Pasolini</i> (2009)</b></a>. </p><p>I was writing for <i>Fandor</i> at the time and likewise contributed an essay on <i><b>The Gospel According to Matthew</b></i> and an interview transcript of my conversation with one of Pasolini’s favored actors, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0205793/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Ninetto Davoli</a>. </p><p>How I wish I were still living in San Francisco to take advantage of the return of the <a href="https://bampfa.org/program/pier-paolo-pasolini" target="new">Pasolini retrospective (2022)</a>, currently continuing at the Pacific Film Archive in Berkeley, California through November 27, 2022. Co-presented by BAMPFA and Cinecittà, Rome, the current Pasolini retrospective has been organized by Susan Oxtoby, BAMPFA, and Camilla Cormanni, Paola Ruggiero, Marco Cicala, Germana Rusico, Cinecittà and is presented in association with the Ministry of Culture of Italy, with welcome assistance from Annamaria Di Giorgio and the staff of the Italian Cultural Institute San Francisco and Amelia Antonucci, Cinema Italia. </p><p>As Director of Film and Senior Curator Susan Oxtoby has so lucidly written: </p><p>“A brilliant artist who was at the center of the intellectual life of postwar Europe, the influential Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini (1922–1975) enjoyed a multidisciplinary career as a novelist, poet, playwright, actor, painter, polemicist, and filmmaker. No stranger to controversy, scandal, and censure (he was involved in some thirty-three trials during his lifetime), Pasolini represented and articulated many critical perspectives: as a defiant homosexual, a nonaligned leftist, a Catholic (who was arrested for insulting the Church), and a visionary artist. </p><p>“Pasolini’s cinema takes its inspiration from many sources: Renaissance painting, Romanticism, Freudian psychology, Italian neorealism, ethnographic filmmaking, and music. His films share an affinity to musical structures and form. His aesthetic often rebuked traditional film grammar, opting instead for a spirit of experimentation. More often than not, he drew upon nonprofessional actors, casting peasants and urban youths who brought an authenticity and edginess to his narrative films. Behind the camera, Pasolini collaborated with top-notch filmmakers, including cinematographers <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005686/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Tonino Delli Colli</a> and <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005854/?ref_=fn_al_nm_0" target="new">Giuseppe Ruzzolini</a>, costume designer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0232219/?ref_=fn_al_nm_0" target="new">Danilo Donati</a>, and composer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001553/?ref_=tt_cl_t_1" target="new">Ennio Morricone</a>, often working with the crew on location—be it the rugged terrain of the Holy Land or the impoverished outskirts of Rome. As a poet/filmmaker, he spoke of his 'tendency always to see something sacred and mythic and epic in everything, even the most humdrum, simple and banal objects and events.' " </p><p>I encourage all Bay Area cinephiles to take advantage of the remaining screenings in the series, which include imported 35mm prints of <a href="https://bampfa.org/event/teorema" target="new"><b><i>Teorema</i> (1968)</b></a>, <a href="https://bampfa.org/event/decameron" target="new"><b><i>The Decameron</i> (1971)</b></a>, <a href="https://bampfa.org/event/gospel-according-st-matthew" target="new"><b><i>The Gospel According to Matthew</i> (1964)</b></a>, <a href="https://bampfa.org/event/canterbury-tales" target="new"><b><i>The Canterbury Tales</i> (1974)</b></a>, and <a href="https://bampfa.org/event/arabian-nights" target="new"><b><i>Arabian Nights</i> (1974)</b></a>, plus a new 4K digital restoration of <a href="https://bampfa.org/event/accattone" target="new"><b><i>Accattone</i> (1961)</b></a>. </p><p>For those unable to attend this spectacular retrospective—and though, admittedly, nothing can replace the specular pleasure of watching 35mm films projected in communal darkness—some recompense can be achieved by accessing most of Pasolini’s films on the <a href="https://bit.ly/3Tjidam" target="new">Criterion Channel</a>.
<i> </i></p><p><i>Viva il cinema!!</i>
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-51620856341677284632022-11-03T15:34:00.008-07:002022-11-04T18:12:41.160-07:00AHITH 2022—LINE-UP ANNOUNCEMENT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJavZBaQigTg2m6fkTWQFTtrC4ZZYn769hXer31qh2unl5b9PEvHojXgjxAdxDkb3p7VNGG9Lg6QLJDGmjKXkWzh6XRjspvR-KaNYBn4OeGd-gc5cntwICcd3tg2ncpsjP7MKd3VZmsq0Ljf-d8uJwXarpGm4sNdxQTBOXqCl5bZ-sSwqgg/s820/AHITH%20banner.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="820" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaJavZBaQigTg2m6fkTWQFTtrC4ZZYn769hXer31qh2unl5b9PEvHojXgjxAdxDkb3p7VNGG9Lg6QLJDGmjKXkWzh6XRjspvR-KaNYBn4OeGd-gc5cntwICcd3tg2ncpsjP7MKd3VZmsq0Ljf-d8uJwXarpGm4sNdxQTBOXqCl5bZ-sSwqgg/w400-h153/AHITH%20banner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p>The 19th edition of <a href="https://www.ahith.com/" target="new">Another Hole In The Head Film Festival (“AHITH”)</a> will take place December 1 to 18, 2022 at the Roxie Theater, 4 Star Theatre, Stage Werks, Eventive, and Zoom. Offering 18 days of films in the sci-fi, fantasy, horror, and other assorted (sordid?) genres, AHITH continues its practice of bringing the latest independent genre films from around the world to San Francisco audiences. This year's event will include dozens of feature films and hundreds of shorts. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPm1Cm3TJu9SAnDrO-dUKm5XtFCC4iyWFv64Vx_i06bfcFzecROkeDZFOrU8930oMF3uJROWgpSHykrKIaP9J_whZ1RWFzTj4IUZhFbv_l1lOcZbnCUruwa75wMxPQf9MPO16PSoSamCHeRoq2qsT5_AYSke3ez1vhSg7tzXFdB0QTWdpZGw/s1618/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2014-14-46%20Satanic%20Hispanics%20(2022).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1006" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPm1Cm3TJu9SAnDrO-dUKm5XtFCC4iyWFv64Vx_i06bfcFzecROkeDZFOrU8930oMF3uJROWgpSHykrKIaP9J_whZ1RWFzTj4IUZhFbv_l1lOcZbnCUruwa75wMxPQf9MPO16PSoSamCHeRoq2qsT5_AYSke3ez1vhSg7tzXFdB0QTWdpZGw/w249-h400/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2014-14-46%20Satanic%20Hispanics%20(2022).png" width="249" /></a></div>AHITH 2022 kicks off with their Roxie Theater Opening Night feature <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt22085392/" target="new"><b><i>Satanic Hispanics</i> (2022)</b></a>, an anthology of five short films from some of the leading Latin filmmakers in the horror genre, spotlighting Hispanic talent both in front and behind the camera. With segments directed by Mike Mendez (<i><b>The Convent</b></i>, <i><b>Big Ass Spiders!</b></i>), Demian Rugna (<i><b>Terrified</b></i>), Eduardo Sanchez (<i><b>The Blair Witch Project</b></i>, <i><b>From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series</b></i>), Gigi Saul Guerrero (<i><b>Bingo Hell</b></i>), and Alejandro Brugues (<i><b>Juan of the Dead</b></i>), <i><b>Satanic Hispanics</b></i> was hailed by <a href="https://butwhytho.net/2022/09/30/satanic-hispanics-review/" target="new">Kate Sánchez</a> as a “masterclass in anthologies” when it premiered at Austin’s Fantastic Fest, where it was awarded the Best Directors in the Fantastic Fest Horror Features category.<p></p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UgTbhXEFdEw" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Sánchez lays out the anthology’s structure as four stories introduced by an unnamed mysterious man chained in a locked room. Identified only as “The Traveler”, Efren Ramirez (<i><b>Napoleon Dynamite</b></i>, <i><b>Lightyear</b></i>, <i><b>Crank: High Voltage</b></i>) recounts the tales within his own, where he is being questioned as the sole survivor of a massacre. “In the vein of classic Amicus and Hammer horror anthologies,” <a href="https://horrorfuel.com/2022/10/12/movie-review-satanic-hispanics-fantastic-fest/" target="new">Joseph Perry</a> notes at his site <i>Horror Fuel</i>, “he regales the detectives, sometimes to their dismay and often to their shock, with a series of tales.”
A “thrilling ride that manages to show the depth of Latin takes on horror and on how much one genre can offer when combined with others”, Sánchez deems <i><b>Satanic Hispanics</b></i> a “near-perfect anthology” that “manages to tell an astounding wrap-around” that holds its different tones and themes together.</p><p><i>Horror Movies Uncut</i> features a videotaped interview with the filmmakers.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/i0qGl1r1KbI" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuiPqE549Nh9T2R31OIH75GsSUz9AwiosVmUmUbtQQ2bV6Ucponb87YEHO9-LBfOkCizYhfK7ijmcwUPA8ugWm2GuEZzVQrATjgDiPLgXLr8O8Q6sdF3JXQ4hr9Y-XvMQswnrIs74qkYIrWDSMQg8Bvmz5cwFzfQWsLu6_crSVY6Tbu_DNQ/s1618/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2014-55-26%20Night%20of%20the%20Living%20Dead%20(1968).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1102" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuiPqE549Nh9T2R31OIH75GsSUz9AwiosVmUmUbtQQ2bV6Ucponb87YEHO9-LBfOkCizYhfK7ijmcwUPA8ugWm2GuEZzVQrATjgDiPLgXLr8O8Q6sdF3JXQ4hr9Y-XvMQswnrIs74qkYIrWDSMQg8Bvmz5cwFzfQWsLu6_crSVY6Tbu_DNQ/w273-h400/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2014-55-26%20Night%20of%20the%20Living%20Dead%20(1968).png" width="273" /></a></div>George Romero's <b><i>Night of the Living Dead</i> (1968)</b>, the original zombie film that started it all and just won’t stay dead, is given fresh atmospherics with the world premiere performance of a new score by <a href="https://www.sleepbomb.com/" target="new">Sleepbomb</a> whose “unique blend of doomy drones and electronics”, AHITH asserts, will insure that you will “never see the film the same way again.” Sleepbomb is a San Francisco ensemble focused primarily on film adjacent music. Stylistically ranging from drone and electronics to sludge and doom metal, Sleepbomb's unique scores provide a transformative take on classic genre films (such as <i><b>Nosferatu</b></i>, <i><b>The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari</b></i>, and <i><b>Conan the Barbarian</b></i>), recontextualizing them for contemporary audiences. <p></p><p> <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs62xp6W1NPVPp3Md3h3jICckyYVR2dKoM7UX0B_vpftrDICX0XJw3wCOIAUSnlT0too3_cOJQaJjcNIMRLKpARbVB_o6P5wOhIkZ0hhoEZOAah98qYXI_1VIRARbDfowgXVTh-PUifo0piEe5i_BDDCzgzw3HeYLedfAEQU7tkRJM88xgZA/s1746/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2015-30-10%20361e79_c5c4de047d474596a1f415e3d5564f7b~mv2.png%20(WEBP%20Image%20687%20%C3%97%20937%20pixels)%20%E2%80%94%20Scaled%20(93%25).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1746" data-original-width="1280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs62xp6W1NPVPp3Md3h3jICckyYVR2dKoM7UX0B_vpftrDICX0XJw3wCOIAUSnlT0too3_cOJQaJjcNIMRLKpARbVB_o6P5wOhIkZ0hhoEZOAah98qYXI_1VIRARbDfowgXVTh-PUifo0piEe5i_BDDCzgzw3HeYLedfAEQU7tkRJM88xgZA/w294-h400/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2015-30-10%20361e79_c5c4de047d474596a1f415e3d5564f7b~mv2.png%20(WEBP%20Image%20687%20%C3%97%20937%20pixels)%20%E2%80%94%20Scaled%20(93%25).png" width="294" /></a></div>For their “Live on Stage!” sidebar at the <a href="https://www.stagewerx.org/" target="new">Stage Werx Theatre</a>, AHITH offers “The Twilight Zone (Special Edition)” in a co-presentation with the Bay Area theater company <a href="http://www.dreamsontherocksproductions.com/" target="new">Dreams On The Rocks</a>. This special live event reimagines two classic episodes of <i>The Twilight Zone</i>: In <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eye_of_the_Beholder_(The_Twilight_Zone,_1959)" target="new">"Eye of the Beholder"</a> a woman wrapped in bandages awaits the results of her doctors' latest attempt to correct her facial deformities) and in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nightmare_as_a_Child" target="new">"Nightmare as a Child"</a> a school teacher is visited by a strange young girl. Completing the "TV" experience, a selection of commercial parodies will be performed during the break. Both episodes will be performed each night of the engagement. <p></p><p>AHITH (2022) also boasts the U.S. premiere of <b><i>The Curse (A Praga)</i></b> by horror icon José Mojica Marins (aka "Coffin Joe"). <i><b>The Curse</b></i> was originally filmed in 1967 for Marins’ Brazilian TV show, but that version was lost in a fire. In 1980, Marins began filming a second version, but production was halted due to financial difficulties. The existing footage went missing until 2007, when producer Eugenio Puppo rediscovered it while preparing a retrospective of Mojica's work. After years of intensive restoration, including recovering the lost dialogue with the assistance of a lip-reader (!), the 52-minute film will make its U.S. debut at the 4 Star Theater. <i><b>The Curse</b></i> will double-bill with <i><b>Mojica's Last Curse</b></i>, a 17-minute documentary chronicling the restoration, which will screen immediately after the feature. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0GqHewWbGmv0XHaePZ9GxpL39ZKGIdCpXitYuySFuys2CrbP63N5iW_hG6-pa3XtRPJwapalQTOBAX814YyrpzBSJ_dn5ZhVvUONleLN8NBsfafy-qfTCW8BeDMBZVLLc2R-A4lM49IxTWYUS3JqN2t7b5RcFA5q3kCzD2DC0b0vQVGMFA/s1618/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2015-25-59%20Don't%20Fuck%20in%20the%20Woods%202%20(2022).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1086" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif0GqHewWbGmv0XHaePZ9GxpL39ZKGIdCpXitYuySFuys2CrbP63N5iW_hG6-pa3XtRPJwapalQTOBAX814YyrpzBSJ_dn5ZhVvUONleLN8NBsfafy-qfTCW8BeDMBZVLLc2R-A4lM49IxTWYUS3JqN2t7b5RcFA5q3kCzD2DC0b0vQVGMFA/w269-h400/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2015-25-59%20Don't%20Fuck%20in%20the%20Woods%202%20(2022).png" width="269" /></a></div>Further offerings include <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt14821406/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new"><b><i>Living With Chucky</i> (2022)</b></a>, a documentary by Kyra Elise Gardner who grew up alongside Chucky the killer doll. She seeks out the other families surrounding the Child's Play films as they recount their experiences working on the ongoing franchise and what it means to be a part of the "Chucky" family. <p></p><p>Also in the line-up is Shawn Burkett’s <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7560830/?ref_=fn_al_tt_0" target="new"><b><i>Don’t Fuck In The Woods 2</i> (2022)</b></a>, wherein the counselors of Pine Hills Summer Camp are getting the grounds ready for the season. While they set up, a mysterious girl enters the camp after a night of bloodshed. And there are things following her as well. </p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HE0ghppOL-4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN75-73zHPSHp_JUm60Yk90QaaGz3CUQsjkIRYq8UQedAgeuKKU_NgG5U7E8uAPTVdckD2MSPtfAwPOEKIsmUNrnqFSkHZoG10pmmc6HZTIEKKRb8u2W5Joregsp94gxoVsS6Fuhqa4KVgAKT7uoH_3vU0Uj-xE-OvXbAYS2-4jCVSCqw1-A/s1618/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2015-31-26%20Alchemy%20of%20the%20Spirit%20(2022).png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1090" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN75-73zHPSHp_JUm60Yk90QaaGz3CUQsjkIRYq8UQedAgeuKKU_NgG5U7E8uAPTVdckD2MSPtfAwPOEKIsmUNrnqFSkHZoG10pmmc6HZTIEKKRb8u2W5Joregsp94gxoVsS6Fuhqa4KVgAKT7uoH_3vU0Uj-xE-OvXbAYS2-4jCVSCqw1-A/w270-h400/Screenshot%202022-11-03%20at%2015-31-26%20Alchemy%20of%20the%20Spirit%20(2022).png" width="270" /></a></div>Elevating their genre, AHITH includes Steve Balderson’s <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt13049968/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_4" target="new"><b><i>Alchemy of the Spirit</i> (2022)</b></a>, a “gothic deconstruction of death, art, and mystery” that <a href="https://filmthreat.com/reviews/alchemy-of-the-spirit/" target="new"><i>Film Threat</i></a> describes as “haunting, beautiful, and extraordinary.” At <i>The Arts Fuse</i>, <a href="https://artsfuse.org/249464/film-reviews-three-nervy-indies-at-the-boston-sci-fi-film-festival/" target="new">Eva Rosenfeld</a> describes <i><b>Alchemy</b></i> as “a largely nonverbal story line about the complexities of mourning” and a “product of grief” conveyed as an “unreal vision through visual disruptions: veils, reflections, glaring light, a slippery sense of time. The colors—blues and yellows—are hypersaturated, as if Argento’s <i><b>Suspiria</b></i> were set in the daytime.”
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1Ij-p8v8xPI" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> <p></p><p>More titles to be announced.
</p><p></p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-1519957833030163782022-11-03T12:42:00.009-07:002022-11-03T12:42:46.606-07:00THROWBACK THURSDAY—The SF360 Interview With Dennis Nyback<p><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dennis_Nyback" target="new"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmxEnbt1Rfyo1aD_SUUmfYkDNtwL7C-mVbFw8BLLpIwx-Lz0Du9h7ELBLbDJH4RfKPOSvQmueSJ1Nla6_Isua8bJQV3yM1ZFG1zfA4vQk4w_WxBQj8XG_jhjG9Y2gdYMkPB2RY6ts8PNZdKVvShvBWtd3L7t3EwBc1hXPGUixTFVeuPqVZNg/s1800/@_Nyback,%20behind%20a%20projector,%20in%20his%20element.%20Photo-%20S.W.%20Conser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1800" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmxEnbt1Rfyo1aD_SUUmfYkDNtwL7C-mVbFw8BLLpIwx-Lz0Du9h7ELBLbDJH4RfKPOSvQmueSJ1Nla6_Isua8bJQV3yM1ZFG1zfA4vQk4w_WxBQj8XG_jhjG9Y2gdYMkPB2RY6ts8PNZdKVvShvBWtd3L7t3EwBc1hXPGUixTFVeuPqVZNg/w400-h300/@_Nyback,%20behind%20a%20projector,%20in%20his%20element.%20Photo-%20S.W.%20Conser.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo: <span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto">© </span>S.W. Conser.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Dennis Nyback</a>, respectfully remembered by <a href="https://www.orartswatch.org/remembering-film-archivist-dennis-nyback/" target="new">S.W. Conser</a> for his <i>Oregon Artswatch</i> profile, passed away at the age of 69 on October 2, 2022 following a long battle with cancer. I consider it cinephilic fortune to have attended several of his presentations and to have had the opportunity to converse with him on the occasion of his presentation of <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> at the 4th Annual Another Hole in the Head Film Festival. That conversation was originally published at <i>SF360</i>, and is now revisited here on <i>The Evening Class</i>. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * </p><p>As part of the program line-up for its newest animation showcase "SF IndieFest: Gets Animated"—piggybacking on the 4th Annual Another Hole in the Head Film Festival and co-presented by <a href="http://www.oddballfilm.com/" target="new">Oddball Films</a>—film archivist Dennis Nyback's program <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> will afford an opportunity to assess racist and sexist stereotypes prevalent in Warner Brothers cartoons from the 1930's-40's. Nyback recently spoke to <i>SF360</i> regarding the upcoming screening.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Michael Guillén: Dennis, for my money you're a shining exemplar of an independent exhibitor, as distinguished from an independent filmmaker.</b> </p><p>Dennis Nyback: Yeah, but I'm also considered a found footage filmmaker and some things I do are more complicated than others, than mere compilations.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: How did you begin collecting films? Where do you find them?</b> </p><p>Nyback: Specifically, I worked my way through college being a projectionist in an art theater in Seattle and from there I got into the Projectionists Union in Seattle and then I bought a little movie theater that was a revival theater. I wanted to show revival films the way they were presented originally so if I showed a film from 1937, I wanted to also show a newsreel from 1937 and a cartoon from 1937 and maybe a short subject because that was the motion picture experience. <i>And</i> I was young and didn't know any better. It was too expensive to actually rent all these things because it wasn't what people were coming to pay for. I was giving them a lot of stuff for free. Then a friend of mine told me that I could actually buy 16mm films cheaper than I could rent them from collectors and then I could keep them and I could show them more than once. So I started buying short subjects with that purpose. Then I found I could do complete programming of short films. Also, I love history and I thought it was great that I got to look at the past in this way. So now I have thousands of films.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Do you have a collection as large as <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2011/03/disposable-discontinuous-evening-class_31.html" target="new">Stephen Parr</a>'s at Oddball Cinema?</b> </p><p>Nyback: No. Mine is much more personal, meaning I have pretty much amassed my films one at a time with the exception of a couple of lots of films that I bought. Mainly I am buying very specific things. Steve's collection is pretty much amassed in huge groups, which is the main difference, not just the fact that he's got a lot more.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: When you buy films like this and compile these programs, once you own them you have the rights to do whatever you want with them?</b> </p><p>Nyback: No, not in the least. <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Craig_Baldwin" target="new">Craig Baldwin</a> made a film <i><b>Sonic Outlaws</b></i> about this group that got into trouble with U2. This group, which was called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Negativland" target="new">Negativland</a>, put out a record called "U2" and used the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gary_Powers" target="new">Gary Powers</a> U2 plane as the cover. They got sued by the rock group U2 and that pretty much destroyed them. Their motto was: "Copyright infraction is your great entertainment value." There are public domain films that I have; but, to answer your question, you don't get the rights just because you own the film.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: So with the <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> program, which returns to San Francisco as part of this year's Another Hole in the Head Film Festival, and with which I know you've had some problems with Warner, you've been able to skirt litigation?</b> </p><p>Nyback: Specifically, in New York in 1997 I was stopped from showing <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> at the Cinema Village. That was because before I was showing <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> at my own theaters and I could just tell them, "Sue me." I'd say, "Actually, I think it would be good if this issue was brought to the greater public." Time-Warner, who I was dealing with, didn't want any publicity on the issue. They just wanted to stop me from showing the films without publicity. At Cinema Village I told them to sue me and then the owner of the theater told them that I wouldn't show the program. The owner of the theater said, "Dennis, maybe you don't care but we have tangible assets here." What I did there was I showed a completely different program of offensive animation to the crowd that showed up and told them that I'd done the show as a comment on corporate censorship and that they were getting a pretty cheap lesson in corporate censorship in that they didn't get to see the program that the press saw; that program was effectively stopped by the corporation. I showed them what I considered a very good program and hoped that they got their money's worth.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: What is your interest in focusing on the "dark side" of animation?</b> </p><p>Nyback: I really like people to see the films I have. That's what separates me from the average collector. Most people who collect films are more hoarders than exhibitors. I guess I have better luck being provocative. It's not that I particularly want to be provocative. It's just a lot easier to get people to see <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> than, say, my program <i>War Is For You</i>.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: So you find that audiences are receptive to the work? It's not a hard sell?</b> </p><p>Nyback: They've been very receptive to <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i>. <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> is easily the most popular program I have ever created and I have created maybe 400 different film shows.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: How many of those have you brought to San Francisco?</b> </p><p>Nyback: I've shown maybe eight programs at Oddball Cinema. I've probably shown that many at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. Some films of mine have shown at the Roxie Film Center in the past.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Will you be attending the Roxie screening? Will there be a Q&A?</b> </p><p>Nyback: Heck, yeah! You might see me get arrested.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I hope not! Unless you <i>want</i> to be arrested?</b> </p><p>Nyback: Who knows? I told Jeff Ross that there can be problems with <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> and he seems fine with that.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well not only is it courageous for you to skirt litigation and exhibit these rarely-seen cartoons, but you clearly recognize the importance of not allowing these works to be censured from the public record. They have historic value.</b>
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-9982498231974647692022-11-03T11:44:00.004-07:002022-11-03T11:51:41.302-07:00THROWBACK THURSDAY—The SF360 Fivepick for Another Hole In the Head (2007)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOV_eSNnXTcYl5XLA4THW58qMa8wjpPYKZ_qpPGV84he1d-YTawA1cy3UMSLc-QhbbdFmFSrAkmTSgVsA66nga1AupOngMqG4LXs0_bJXGY-xV5QYtz3uRciDKbNnbsZatGysCl9qnUL4mF4mkoad2k5OseGef3fLjxd1NCnhX4kuBLGW8w/s1350/AHITH_logo.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOV_eSNnXTcYl5XLA4THW58qMa8wjpPYKZ_qpPGV84he1d-YTawA1cy3UMSLc-QhbbdFmFSrAkmTSgVsA66nga1AupOngMqG4LXs0_bJXGY-xV5QYtz3uRciDKbNnbsZatGysCl9qnUL4mF4mkoad2k5OseGef3fLjxd1NCnhX4kuBLGW8w/w320-h400/AHITH_logo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>With early confirmation of the filmic slate being offered at the 19th edition of S.F. IndieFest’s genre sidebar <a href="https://www.ahith.com/" target="new">Another Hole In the Head</a>, I look back at my <i>SF360</i> write-up for the festival’s fourth edition in 2007. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * </p><p>How do you like your horror? Do you prefer hideous aliens attempting to take over our planet let alone our human bodies? Do you prefer Japanese ghosts begrudgingly residing in the wallboards? Are you titillated by torture porn? Do you take your scares seriously or blended with lots of tongue-in-cheek comic relief? The SF Independent Film Festival's 4th Annual (Yet Another) Hole in the Head Film Festival ("Holehead") runs June 1-14, 2007 at the Roxie Film Center and is offering up a 10-day program catering to just about every preference. Along with the gore, ghouls, ghosts and gags San Franciscan audiences have grown accustomed to, this year's added attraction is an animation showcase: SF Indiefest Gets Animated! Owning up to my own idiosyncratic tastes, here are five I would recommend from this year's line-up:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPSx6Sxk3pqPhIwEoZikRg-jy4PKHelttVomgcyOE5_A-UGDha_o-r5SkECxK_FEhbNmZHNtwuSo-V5d2i3sDq614mX3pE9Gc3mmIG_kkwhYVune8qSvIYwBTHW_Ax4LtE105x894ZF5zbENb2bJD70zAudF7LdL8IJ1hUjdFsVmA2DXBAfg/s1491/Blood%20Car_theatrical%20poster.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1491" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPSx6Sxk3pqPhIwEoZikRg-jy4PKHelttVomgcyOE5_A-UGDha_o-r5SkECxK_FEhbNmZHNtwuSo-V5d2i3sDq614mX3pE9Gc3mmIG_kkwhYVune8qSvIYwBTHW_Ax4LtE105x894ZF5zbENb2bJD70zAudF7LdL8IJ1hUjdFsVmA2DXBAfg/w269-h400/Blood%20Car_theatrical%20poster.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0780485/?ref_=fn_al_tt_0" target="new"><b><i>Blood Car</i> (2007)</b></a>—For anyone who has ever chanted "Blood For Oil" at an anti-war rally, Alex Orr's <i><b>Blood Car</b></i> will confirm the equation once and for all. Though San Franciscans won't have the actual Blood Car out in front of the theater promoting the screening (as they did in Atlanta), we'll still have a clever send-up on gasoline prices, car sex and vegans placed in compromising situations. Mike Brune nails his nerdy but endearing characterization of Archie Andrews, a would-be inventor in a near future where gas prices have soared to $40 a gallon. Archie—as you've no doubt already guessed—accidentally stumbles upon a new fuel: human blood! Filling up the tank acquires new murderous connotations in this camp horror piece that deftly leverages gore with a classical music score. [<b>2022 Update</b>: <i><b>Blood Car</b></i> is available for rental through <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/video/detail/B08VD2636P/ref=msx_wn_av" target="new">Amazon Prime</a>. Gas prices may have gone up in <i><b>Blood Car</b></i>’s dystopian future, but the rental is only a buck.]</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/QmBjFWKqDQw" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><a href="http://www.elmuerto.com/" target="new"><b><i>El Muerto</i> (2006)</b></a>—<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Javier_Hernandez_(comics)" target="new">Javier Hernandez</a> was impaled by a radioactive pencil belonging to a comic book artist when he was a young boy and comic zinedom has never been the same since. His character El Muerto debuted in the Bay Area in 1998 and has been adapted by Brian Cox into a film that creatively tweaks <i>muertos</i> iconography and puts the Chicano back into chicanery. Death has never been more deceived than by Diego who—on his way to a Day of the Dead party—crashes into a tree, dies, but nonetheless sticks around. Wilmer Valderrama (known by many as Fez from <i>That 70's Show</i> but who recently did a fine turn in Richard Linklater's <i><b>Fast Food Nation</b></i>) plays Diego/El Muerto who traverses the death horizon to help the living.</p><p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6bdLjLnZfVo" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0458480/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvSoJ10vIPJSfi9PPT1ayZtrQRq3v4EsdE2duZ5C8j_EDku8gL_UkvPQQKmX5_niUsJQ0C2P-F3j419cqR5sQq40-UjeMuKim2QC5hTrdxGtCtVTv28WMwvz7WdJdgprmActa7XjVTM33aSkw_3dXAHnmUYjLRur_lRGOYzOW4MVGIyZIxg/s986/@_Simon%20Says%20(2006).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="986" data-original-width="702" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvSoJ10vIPJSfi9PPT1ayZtrQRq3v4EsdE2duZ5C8j_EDku8gL_UkvPQQKmX5_niUsJQ0C2P-F3j419cqR5sQq40-UjeMuKim2QC5hTrdxGtCtVTv28WMwvz7WdJdgprmActa7XjVTM33aSkw_3dXAHnmUYjLRur_lRGOYzOW4MVGIyZIxg/w285-h400/@_Simon%20Says%20(2006).jpg" width="285" /></a></i></b></div><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0458480/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0"target="new"><b><i>Simon Says</i> (2006)</b></a>—Crispin Glover gleefully goes over the top in his dual role as maniacal brothers Simon and Stanley who enjoy playing deadly games out in the booby-trapped back country woods with unsuspecting sexy college kids. William Dear's film fondles the genre with loving wryness. Ever since <i><b>Deliverance</b></i>, hillbilly horror has been a staple for urbanites who fear running out of gas in some remote neck of the woods and who then have to save their own necks from dastardly sharp-edged contraptions. What Glover does with a yappy little poodle in this yarn must be seen to be believed.
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<b><i> </i></b><p></p><p><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0483719/?ref_=nm_flmg_dr_10" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhplnkclvdC-Xg33pYha08A1_S5iPjv0yQ_CGyuAkwUjTritdvZCui6NoFyYJaR2baaDc3xKtVrkCIFXfK5qWI85PPH0srJ5UGsp2xjK8l9qoV4_qP9QmDJ0mUdfIQ8wp9W_2BuZwNVX7r65MGuwD9tsfya8k7QmbRyu1_5mKCDIv-ay5OZQ/s1618/@_In%20The%20Living%20and%20the%20Dead%20(2006).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="1260" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhplnkclvdC-Xg33pYha08A1_S5iPjv0yQ_CGyuAkwUjTritdvZCui6NoFyYJaR2baaDc3xKtVrkCIFXfK5qWI85PPH0srJ5UGsp2xjK8l9qoV4_qP9QmDJ0mUdfIQ8wp9W_2BuZwNVX7r65MGuwD9tsfya8k7QmbRyu1_5mKCDIv-ay5OZQ/w311-h400/@_In%20The%20Living%20and%20the%20Dead%20(2006).jpg" width="311" /></a></i></b></div><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0483719/?ref_=nm_flmg_dr_10"target="new"><b><i>In The Living and The Dead</i> (2006)</b></a>—Simon Rumley's truly disturbing descent into madness eschews any kind of comic or ironic accents to thrust you into events so grueling and intense, you will frequently have to look away. As one of my [former] <i>Twitch</i> teammates has written, <i><b>The Living and the Dead</b></i>'s achievement is its "volatile treatise on the emotional and physical burdens we place on loved ones throughout life." Part horror, part psychological decay, part tragedy, this genre hybrid unflinchingly examines the dark horror in the human heart. Leo Bill's performance as the troubled James Brocklebank is indelibly horrific.
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<b><i> </i></b><p></p><p><a href="http://www.murderpartymovie.com" target="new"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HEEX508kSw4vlkDqpr-vSpG3J7GT0JCKH6b3anloFXh4PtP5fs5IbHQL7GUG07uym4jzf0XxAF9BWYxLFrXE9i7d3YUg5t5hlY5jnz6ieea0AQD0O5K9-nIF0FzpQKUQ0WT5eHNCyv8zs9Kou389uPnp4fL9Y2zd_ZdxvK3-EY1uaymDrA/s1334/@_Murder%20Party%20(2007).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="906" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HEEX508kSw4vlkDqpr-vSpG3J7GT0JCKH6b3anloFXh4PtP5fs5IbHQL7GUG07uym4jzf0XxAF9BWYxLFrXE9i7d3YUg5t5hlY5jnz6ieea0AQD0O5K9-nIF0FzpQKUQ0WT5eHNCyv8zs9Kou389uPnp4fL9Y2zd_ZdxvK3-EY1uaymDrA/w271-h400/@_Murder%20Party%20(2007).jpg" width="271" /></a></i></b></div><a href="http://www.murderpartymovie.com"target="new"><b><i>Murder Party</i> (2007)</b></a>—Winner of the Audience Award at Slamdance 2007, <i><b>Murder Party</b></i> arrives at Holehead bolstered by critical fanfare. Director Jeremy Saulnier describes his Halloween party gone awry as "<i><b>The Breakfast Club</b></i>—with chainsaws and hard drugs." A cautionary tale about accepting party invitations from hosts you don't know, <i><b>Murder Party</b></i> invites you into murderous pretenses to art. The deaths are creative and hilarious.
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/oefQdyC0ZeU" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> <p></p><p>And from the animation line-up: <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i>—If you missed film archivist <a href="http://www.dennisnybackfilms.com/" target="new">Dennis Nyback</a>'s recent Oddball Film presentations, here's your chance to catch up. Nyback developed the <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> program in 1993 for Seattle's Pike Street Cinema where it promptly sold out. He then traveled with the program throughout more than 20 cities in Europe. These Warner Brother cartoons have been pulled from distribution because they clearly evidence presiding racist, sexist and violent sentiments from America's not-too-distant past. Owned by Ted Turner's company who initially threatened to take action against Nyback for screening these "bad" cartoons, <i>Bad Bugs Bunny</i> is at this point skirting litigation and flirting with audiences. [<b>2022 Update:</b> Sadly, the film community lost Nyback about a month ago when he passed away on October 2, 2022.]
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-13301304346275040662022-10-27T11:41:00.001-07:002022-10-27T11:41:21.988-07:00THROWBACK THURSDAY—The SF360 Interview with Edward Millington Stout, III<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxI43ixwv3V8Wk96XpU6paujJd8KBLXJVOQnKdGmowRXjzuJb3h0tbxcjwTvAu_UDD8OuV5B_BuhdTLtpXUOqIU_3HFbKYzWGupYzQqXtB4XdL-r3XOmJav3EVxRP0aJ5wdEKTK2pCuCSYaHLdzRCpU9Q4hEyJCNlqpw3TFpHh-TS3I_rgoA/s1746/@_Wurlitzer%20Unit%20Organ%20ad%20in%20Exhibitor's%20Trade%20Review_(Nov_1924-Feb_1925).%20%20PD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1746" data-original-width="1280" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxI43ixwv3V8Wk96XpU6paujJd8KBLXJVOQnKdGmowRXjzuJb3h0tbxcjwTvAu_UDD8OuV5B_BuhdTLtpXUOqIU_3HFbKYzWGupYzQqXtB4XdL-r3XOmJav3EVxRP0aJ5wdEKTK2pCuCSYaHLdzRCpU9Q4hEyJCNlqpw3TFpHh-TS3I_rgoA/w294-h400/@_Wurlitzer%20Unit%20Organ%20ad%20in%20Exhibitor's%20Trade%20Review_(Nov_1924-Feb_1925).%20%20PD.jpg" width="294" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wurlitzer ad in <i>Exhibitor's Trade Review.</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Launched in 2006, <i>SF360</i> began as a copublishing effort between the San Francisco Film Society (now known as <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SFFILM" target="new">SFFILM</a>) and <i>indieWIRE</i>. Until its closure in 2011, <i>SF360.org</i> was the only daily online trade magazine focusing on the San Francisco Bay Area film scene. Susan Gerhard served as its editor and I was delighted to intern for her and to contribute several pieces (<a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2011/06/index-sf360.html" target="new">index provided</a>). </p><p>Unfortunately, when <i>SF360</i> went down, so did all of my writing for them, as no online archive (that I’m aware of) was set in place. Hopefully, “Throwback Thursday” will offer an opportunity to re-publish those pieces on <i>The Evening Class</i>. </p><p>First off, I felt it important to revisit my conversation with Edward Millington Stout, III in the face of the ongoing controversy regarding the future of San Francisco’s Castro Theatre, threatened by the misguided interests of Berkeley-based concert promoter Another Planet Entertainment (“APE”) who announced in January 2022—during an extended closure due to the COVID-19 pandemic—that it had partnered with Bay Properties, the theater's owner, to reopen in January 2023, refocusing on presenting live music, in addition to film, comedy, and other events. At <a href="ttps://www.sfgate.com/sf-culture/article/Castro-Theatre-becoming-music-venue-16788879.php" target="new"><i>SFGate</i></a> Amanda Bartlett reported on these developments and the ensuing community outcry when APE made its initial announcement. More recently, community protest against the APE / Bay Properties endeavor strengthened when it was revealed that plans were in place to remove the rake of the theater, all but destroying the ability of film to be projected effectively. </p><p>From a distance here in Boise, Idaho, these proposed changes to the Castro Theatre nonetheless sting sadly as so many of my memories of growing up in San Francisco are specifically situated in the Castro and its historic theater. As a gay man, the Castro Theatre—nicknamed “the Church of Camp” by Gary Morris in his 1996 <a href="https://brightlightsfilm.com/church-camp-san-franciscos-castro-theatre/#.Y1q3QoLMJOo" target="new"><i>Bright Lights Film Journal</i></a> purview—was the site of transformative, filmic subcultural events, such as the unforgettable November 1977 premiere of <i><b>Word Is Out</b></i> [<a href="http://www.wordisoutmovie.com/index.htm" target="new">official website</a> / <a href="http://wordisoutmovie.com/PressKit/WordIsOutPK.pdf" target="new">PDF press kit</a> / <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Word_Is_Out:_Stories_of_Some_of_Our_Lives" target="new"><i>Wikipedia</i></a>], which galvanized the LGBT community and became an icon of the emerging gay rights movement of the 1970s. As film historian Vito Russo declared in <i>The Advocate</i>: “The silence of gay people on the screen has been broken.” In retrospect, now living in Boise Idaho—where, to date, the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity,” have yet to be added to Idaho’s Human Rights Act–a sobering poignance accompanies production assistant Janet Cole’s declaration regarding <i><b>Word Is Out</b></i>: “People who were alone and hopeless in <i>Idaho</i>, Utah and Kansas for the first time saw realistic and positive images of gay people on screen" [emphasis added]. </p><p>One could argue that the APE / Bay Properties proposed transformation of the Castro Theatre is a commercialized political erasure of my subculture’s history. That’s only one protest to add to the many that have surfaced. </p><p>But returning to the interview at hand, originally published at <i>SF360</i> on August 1, 2007, I’m grateful now to have added even a small footnote to the theater’s history. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * </p><p>I have lost count of just how many times I've heard the Mighty Wurlitzer at the Castro Theatre introduce a film with a rendition of "San Francisco", rousing audiences to clap along; but, this has become such an inherent aspect of my San Franciscan moviegoing experience that it's impossible for me to imagine elsewise. It certainly is an experience I have taken for granted for many years and only recently—as I have begun to explore the intricacies of film culture in the Bay Area—have I become motivated to appreciate it more fully. </p><p>I'm grateful to Tod Booth for steering me towards Edward Millington Stout, III and encouraging me to speak with, undoubtedly, the world's foremost theatrical organ restorationist. Stout invited me to visit his home and studio in Hayward, California, where we talked about several of San Francisco's great movie palaces of yesteryear and the organs he has come to intimately know, as if they were personalities. Among our discussion were a few select comments on the Castro Theatre and its Mighty Wurlitzer.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Tell me about the Mighty Wurlitzer at the Castro Theatre.</b> </p><p>Edward Millington Stout, III: My partner Dick Taylor—who I can't praise highly enough—he and his brother are the actual owners of the Castro organ.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: So the Castro Theatre rents the Wurlitzer from them? How does that work?</b> </p><p>Stout: Yes. They lease it from them. I was the consultant and I did all of the tonal finishing on the organ when it went in.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well answer me this, are there a lot of different varieties of theatrical pipe organs? The ones most people usually think of are the Wurlitzers.</b> </p><p>Stout: Sure. They became the Kleenex. They became the generic name. A theater might have some other brand but the general public referred to it as the Wurlitzer—"Let's go down and hear the Wurlitzer"—because Wurlitzer, they developed the instrument to begin with. The name Wurlitzer, the House of Wurlitzer, was the greatest merchandising firm of musical instruments in the history of the world. The Wurlitzer Company manufactured and marketed every musical instrument known, including orchestral harps. They were sought after. Their pianos were of medium grade—they weren't great pianos—but their pipe organs were absolutely the very best and they were brilliant at marketing and promoting. "Gee, Dad, it's a Mighty Wurlitzer!" and all of that business. They knew the value of marketing and knew how to do it. </p><p>But, there's another side to it. Like certain automobiles are more comfortable to drive, the Wurlitzer organ consoles themselves were very comfortable to play. Everything was located, the design was symmetrical, the balance and the elegance of the console, and everything in their consoles was of the very highest quality so that the leading organists who had a greater level of sensitivity … there are different levels of sensitivity. There are the Clyde Ferndocks who get up there and hack away with their dull machete and please the audience, of course, and then there are the sensitive artists that every little nuance they feel, they hear, they experience. They can bring more out. Their music is more exciting when they are playing an organ that goes with them. They used to say, "Oh that Castro organ, it plays itself." Now that's about the best compliment an organ man can get, is if some organist of high caliber says, "That thing just plays itself." He's saying, "I can take that organ musically anywhere I want and it wants to go along with me." You see? Then there are other organs, they just fight it. Hence, they're not turned on and the audience doesn't hear their very best. So the leading, very best organists sought to play Wurlitzers because it afforded them the opportunity to play their very best.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Are there many existent Wurlitzers? Somebody was saying to me there weren't that many left. Is that true?</b> </p><p>Stout: I don't know how many are left. It might be 300, something like that? Maybe there's 50 original installations, still in their original home, not very many. A lot of organs were put back into theaters that had them, like the Paramount in Oakland.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: How would your categorize the Castro's Wurlitzer?</b> </p><p>Stout: It's a <i>fantastic</i> organ.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I've heard musicians say that it's one of the best they've played on.</b> </p><p>Stout: It <i>is</i>.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: When I heard that, that's when I began thinking, "I have taken this Wurlitzer for granted for 30 years." I've just assumed it was standard.</b> </p><p>Stout: No, it's an <i>exceptional</i> organ. Now, when you hear … there's intermission playing when everybody's talking and all of that. You have different levels of musicianship at the console during the intermissions. That's one form of use. Where you really hear it, is where you have someone that's brilliant….
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Like Clark Wilson?</b> </p><p>Stout: Like Clark playing a picture. That's when you <i>really</i> hear the Wurlitzer blossom. The nuances and the subtleties are used, not just the slam bang.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Experiencing Clark Wilson playing the score for <i>Seventh Heaven</i> at last year's Silent Film Festival was thrillingly revelatory. It was when I first—as an audience member—became fully aware of the Castro's Wurlitzer. I heard sounds I had never heard before. And it was the first time I remember looking up at the grilling and noticed movement behind the grilling.</b> </p><p>Stout: Do you know what you were seeing? You were seeing the shutters. See, the pipes in a Wurlitzer—or any pipe organ—plays at full volume all the time. The pipes are playing full-throated because they have to. They have to maintain the pressure at the pipe or the pitch would change. So if the pipes are playing at full volume, how in the world do you get dynamic expression? On Wurlitzers the whole front wall of the chamber—12 feet wide, 8 feet high—are wooden Venetian blinds that are vertical and these louvers are 2½ inches thick to hold back the sound. They pivot in the center so they'll open or close and there's a pneumatic motor—a bellow—attached to every single blade. The organist has a pedal that he controls with his right foot—and his foot's always on that—to give dynamics to the music. If they push that pedal open just a little bit, one contact makes and one blade opens and so much sound comes out. They push the pedal further, the second and third blades open and so forth. They can go from no shutters open, which holds the sound back in, or they can open it wide so that all the blades are open and then the full roar of the organ comes out into the room. That's the way they control the volume. What you were seeing—because the grill work at the Castro is very open; there's not much impeding the sound coming out—you can actually see the shutters. They're painted black but you can still see some movement up there and—if you're sitting in the right seat—you can actually see the glint of light on the brass trumpet pipes.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Usually when I've heard the Wurlitzer at the Castro it's been—as you said—intermission music, what I've characterized as ice skating rink music, and I've not paid much attention to it.</b> </p><p>Stout: It's thoughtful grunge and it's difficult for the organists because they know the people are talking. A lot more because the society today has been desensitized. When I was a child, my family had the wherewithal to go to fine restaurants and I was taught at a very young age—certainly by the age of four—to keep quiet, to be respectful of everybody else in the restaurant, and to be a little gentleman "because we don't want to annoy those other people at the table near us." So people talked in a very soft voice all of the time through my childhood. It started to change after World War II when television became prominent and parental guidance started to slip away. We've had six generations now of children who were taught, "Keep your feet off the coffee table!" They're insensitive. It's become an I-Me society. It's a pity because it prevents sensitive people from enjoying certain events.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: It's a mannered aesthetic that has fallen by the wayside.</b> </p><p>Stout: The Wurlitzer—or any good theater organ—is the perfect instrument because, first of all, it's one person tracking the action. It's not a conductor waving a stick at a bunch of drunks who would just as soon be somewhere else. They can't respond instantly to changes. The fact is, every house is different. There are warm houses and chilly houses—re: the way the audience reacts—and if you have a chilly house, you're going to play differently. You're going to hype it differently and sell it differently than you would if it's a responsive house. With a responsive house, you can come back down to subtleties at a greater level than you can with a house that doesn't respond much. Sometimes then you'll pour on the coals more. The organist can react because he's hearing how the picture's going over as it's happening. When you've got 30 people you're controlling out there, everybody's doing their very best to stay on cue and stay with the picture. The other thing about the theater organ—and I talked to Dick Purvis about this—because he knew a lot about silent picture playing and, being a composer, he had an insight that was very thorough, and that is that the Wurlitzer has a far greater dynamic range than the orchestra. There is nothing as powerful. There's not an orchestra in the world that has the bass and the power of a Mighty Wurlitzer organ. Period. Amen. End of sentence.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The Mighty Wurlitzer places emotion right into the bodies of its audience.</b> </p><p>Stout: Sure it does! You know why? Because it's moving the floor. The organ itself is coupled to the building. It's physically moving the structure. Those sound waves are so strong that they're literally affecting the building. You feel the sound in the floor. You hear it but you feel the building too because the building is moving with these instruments. That doesn't happen with an orchestra because they can't generate that kind of energy.
The Castro Wurlitzer organ is playing on its original nervous system. The relay machine that actually plays the organ, the switching and all the electrical controls that do this complex switching, it's the original 83-year-old Wurlitzer relay. It's in a dressing room beneath one of the chambers backstage. It's like an entire telephone exchange. The electrical system that controls a Wurlitzer organ is very complicated.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: You've worked on some of the great theater organs on the West Coast and, I imagine, even elsewhere throughout the world, are they like entities to you? Are they personalities?</b> </p><p>Stout: Oh sure. Absolutely. </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * </p><p><b>FOLLOW-UP:</b> Since my 2007 conversation with Edward Millington Stout, III, the Castro Theatre’s Wurlitzer was removed in 2015 when its creator, Dick Taylor, moved to Sacramento. As detailed to <i>SFGate</i>’s Amanda Bartlett, David Hegarty—the Castro’s resident organist for more than 40 years and the founder of the Castro Organ Devotees Association (CODA)[<a href="https://www.castroorgan.org/CastroOrgan/Home.html" target="new">website</a> / <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castro_Organ_Devotees_Association" target="new"><i>Wikipedia</i></a>]—had anticipated that the theater’s reopening after the pandemic would involve the implementation of a brand new instrument—the world’s largest hybrid organ, which achieved more than $800,000 in funding through CODA to construct and transport to San Francisco from Zionsville, Pennsylvania. </p><p>“We have been assured that the organ will be installed as planned,” Hegarty told Bartlett. “And there is likely to be some repertory programming between film festivals and events,” but—noting he had yet to meet with the Castro Theatre’s new manager—“It’s too soon for us to know much. … We’re hoping it turns out to be a positive change.”
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-71741763463059519812022-10-13T09:24:00.000-07:002022-10-13T09:24:40.449-07:00THROWBACK THURSDAY: THE BUMP INTERVIEW WITH EALDOR BEALU<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPADPBtzsDp928qRrbOp-UynnvGaVjShLKrOl_802pF6ipGfohinlSIUdhwYwrO_9xMKhM2e0ylekBAgLtFyFBoQrbXpCeYw_5yF1fy1Ef61XDfMJyyI-Qcl-87AgVyCRlae8SGNgHAxGgpcFp6Au76C9xbHfL7Oo-89ErGY04r0spUSJVg/s2048/BUMP_July%202017,%20%233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1935" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYPADPBtzsDp928qRrbOp-UynnvGaVjShLKrOl_802pF6ipGfohinlSIUdhwYwrO_9xMKhM2e0ylekBAgLtFyFBoQrbXpCeYw_5yF1fy1Ef61XDfMJyyI-Qcl-87AgVyCRlae8SGNgHAxGgpcFp6Au76C9xbHfL7Oo-89ErGY04r0spUSJVg/w378-h400/BUMP_July%202017,%20%233.jpg" width="378" /></a></div><p>Between the vicissitudes of the Internet and the short life spans of independent street magazines, much of my writing of the past decade and a half has evaporated like dew on a summer morning. “Throwback Thursday” provides an opportunity to revisit some of those projects and archive them on <i>The Evening Class</i>, the little blog that keeps on chugging when all those websites with their bells and whistles have long since bit the dust.
<i> </i></p><p><i>BUMP</i> (acronym for Boise Underground Music Pages) was the brainchild of Sara Konizeski and Molly Seiniger. It was a lively music magazine offered free to Boise’s music-loving community, focused on highlighting Boise’s uncharted live local music scene. <i>BUMP</i>, largely volunteer-driven, provided a free platform that assisted local music lovers and makers to find and participate in Boise’s truly amazing underground music scene by profiling local acts and compiling a calendar of performances at Boise’s venues. </p><p>I’m grateful to Derek Spencer Longoria Gomez for convincing me to contribute to the magazine and I only regret I didn’t write more for them while they were in existence. Under the pseudonym of “Maya”, I interviewed the then-new group Ealdor Bealu for <i>BUMP</i>’s third issue in July 2017. Ealdor Bealu is currently on tour in the Southwest and—as a little shout-out to them on the road—I’m using this week’s “Throwback Thursday” to remind them of their humble beginnings with their first album and the onset of what has proven to be enduring friendships with its band members.</p><p style="text-align: center;"> * * * </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik92PTCGQF9A6bvkt_L9EzdhDSaCM4xBs3Aylwqjtth9lp8B3MU1DrMY09RZmLuT2nqtgs81J30ceJNEngFuDMQIGaskKAz9RWLgZ3FPzi1E1x0Z9vn-M0mzRAnPLoU1BkSh9sdo9nGAir_zOWJt_B1sOy7n2_m6NBKiUwTXELWMCA2FDmtQ/s3518/@_Garden%20City,%20Idaho_092422_Flipside%20Fest_Ealdor%20Bealu.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2821" data-original-width="3518" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik92PTCGQF9A6bvkt_L9EzdhDSaCM4xBs3Aylwqjtth9lp8B3MU1DrMY09RZmLuT2nqtgs81J30ceJNEngFuDMQIGaskKAz9RWLgZ3FPzi1E1x0Z9vn-M0mzRAnPLoU1BkSh9sdo9nGAir_zOWJt_B1sOy7n2_m6NBKiUwTXELWMCA2FDmtQ/w400-h321/@_Garden%20City,%20Idaho_092422_Flipside%20Fest_Ealdor%20Bealu.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Photo: </span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">©</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Michael Guill</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">é</span><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">n (2022).</span>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></td></tr></tbody></table>"Elder bayloo" is the working pronunciation for Ealdor Bealu, an Anglo Saxon term from the 14th century meaning "necessary evil". By "necessary evil" imagine how it takes a forest fire to convince pine cones to release their seeds to regenerate a new forest. Or the discomfort associated with knitting a broken bone. Or, for that matter, the discomfort associated with any kind of healing, including a broken heart. </p><p>Ealdor Bealu has been together for about two years; its original incarnation for the album being Carson Russell—the band's guitarist, vocalist, and samples editor, art director and album co-producer (let alone their self-appointed "spirit guide"), Rylie Collingwood on bass and vocals, Alex Wargo on drums, bells, chimes, glockenspiel, saxophone and oud, and Travis Abbot on guitars. Wargo has moved on to New York City by way of Texas and Craig Hawkins has joined the band as their touring drummer. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgndU-dATEhJsXJ9-ApHC-Gd-PoyCh2YfJvO3AR38M1RrpodWd9COyczXvovEwFX5O2X0o_JjN6qJt1_bEF5FZMNtzT3-ejZrahO25487n26sfU5EScUZcxbgDyJm99YjVY7WAKliAH1Sv5fwF2OY7JUaMwyX4IwIPpa0VAsyCzS8OQWdlPng/s676/Ealdor%20Bealu_Dark%20Water%20At%20the%20Foot%20of%20the%20Mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="612" data-original-width="676" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgndU-dATEhJsXJ9-ApHC-Gd-PoyCh2YfJvO3AR38M1RrpodWd9COyczXvovEwFX5O2X0o_JjN6qJt1_bEF5FZMNtzT3-ejZrahO25487n26sfU5EScUZcxbgDyJm99YjVY7WAKliAH1Sv5fwF2OY7JUaMwyX4IwIPpa0VAsyCzS8OQWdlPng/w400-h363/Ealdor%20Bealu_Dark%20Water%20At%20the%20Foot%20of%20the%20Mountain.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Their recent performance at the Neurolux on Friday, June 9, 2017 celebrated the release of their debut album "Dark Water at the Foot of the Mountain"; the first time all the songs on the album have been played together as a set and timed to a mesmerizing filmic projection behind the musicians. <p></p><p>As is so often the morphology of bands in the Treasure Valley, Carson began with Craig and Riley in a party rock band called Mother Shipton. When that project ended, Russell spent the next year upgrading his gear, writing songs and developing early versions of what was to become the filmic projection. In 2015, Carson, Riley and original drummer Alex built up the skeletal framework of Ealdor Bealu, and then that summer brought in Travis Abbott on guitars to round out the group with a fourth member. </p><p>At the album's <a href="https://ealdorbealu.bandcamp.com/releases" target="new">Bandcamp</a> page, Ealdor Bealu is described as a "heavy psych" band: "With a focus on shifting dynamics from the ambient to the massive and back again, their sound is both minimalist and maximalist with hints at the unknown core of our existence and the world beyond this reality."
With blue-shocked hair and an infectious laugh, Riley simplifies the description of the band's sound as "doomy", whereas—with the 50-year anniversary of San Francisco's "Summer of Love" on my mind—this former San Franciscan finds it reminiscent of 60's acid rock inflected as contemporary neo-psychedelia. Carson adjusts that perception to "heavy psychedelia", whereas guitarist Travis Abbot prefers the term "hope metal" or "glitter doom" (gloom). "There's something uplifting to the necessary evil that must exist," he grins darkly. Admittedly, as the band was building up the pieces, they were trying to hit more than just one genre, which might account for why a description of their sound remains assertively protean. </p><p>Craig Hawkins, friends with Russell since third grade, was a sure shot to step in as drummer, and understands that music genres are usually defined by the rhythm or tempo of the music, as well as the tonalities used. Metal often uses aggressive distortion tones, and—if it's speed metal—it's obviously being played fast. The "doom" element reference the slow parts in the songs, which run in cycles, again and again, changing subtly on the second or third cycles. Ealdor Bealu incorporated those elements from doom music, though the band members are clearly not doomy bitter people. Riley, in fact, envisions doom music as a sprawling landscape with jagged rocks, or a dry desert stretching out in all directions. </p><p>The album itself is seamless in the way each song flows into the next, providing an accessible and satisfying listening experience. This was a purposeful focus on Russell's part—to make an album that felt like an entire experience—and it turned out even better than he projected. The idea started out as something the band was trying to do with their live sets. At their first show, they had five songs, which had been crafted not to be "just" songs, experienced separately, but songs that were meant to weave in and out of each other. "Like a Pink Floyd experience," Russell explains, "where nothing either stops or starts; but blends together." From that first show through the experience of recording the album to their more current performances, Russell has been interweaving more sampling between tracks, and more elements between instruments, in an effort to make the music a gestalt experience, unified whole and intact, both in their live sets and on the recorded album. Of course working on the album afforded more time to work towards that goal, which has not been always easy to accomplish live (where volume levels are often not correct or Wargo would keep misplacing his mallets). </p><p>At the Neurolux album release performance, value was added to the experience through the projection of a film montage behind the musicians, whose assemble edit was engineered by Carson. As he was writing the bass and guitar tracks for the band's songs, he was exploring a public domain website where he found available stock footage. As he built a song, he built the film sequence for it, and connected them together for the first set they played more than a year and a half ago. The songs themselves are timed out to the film; but, it's difficult to play a 13-minute song live and have it align second-by-second with a film. Thus, they decided early on not to be concerned with perfection, opting instead for passion. Equally, they decided to share the film on <i>YouTube</i> where the timed alignment between film and music as intended could be experienced as intended, exact and in a way nearly impossible to achieve on stage. In fact, those who attended the album release might be the only audience who will ever actually see the music played front to back timed with the film. The band will probably never do that again, as they are already moving on to new material, and expanding into their next chapter.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8eMUF4Mgj3Q" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Along with digital download on Bandcamp, and physical CDs available at the Record Exchange and their live performances (in a handsome black-and-white six-fold paper case designed by Russell), the entirety of "Dark Water At the Foot Of the Mountain" is streaming free on <i>YouTube</i> where it's tracked to the film. Primary recording took place at The Wizard Hat (Yachats, OR); secondary recordings at Das Schmidt Haus (Boise, ID); and vocal recordings at Cathedral of the Rockies (Boise, ID), where album co-producer Ethan Schmidt works sound. Rylie recalls showing up at the converted church venue Cathedral of the Rockies while their choir was still practicing and feeling self-conscious because she was wearing a panda outfit and eating hamburgers. </p><p>Much of the photography used for the CD cover is from the band's visit to the Oregon coast last year, including an unsettling image of a crab skeleton lodged among rocks. This imagery comports with their music, however, where darkness reveals and introduces beauty, and an uncomfortable sense of constriction opens out into a vast bleak terrain that hints at hope. The traction of the music is desultory, undulent, as if one has wandered to land's end to face an ocean complicated by a hallucinogenic vision. All seems to end, even as it begins ever anew. Or as poet Wallace Stevens once wrote: "Death is the mother of all beauty." There's no question that Ealdor Bealu's premiere project "Dark Water At the Foot of the Mountain" is a ravishingly beautiful accomplishment. </p><p>Having no assumptions, the band was genuinely stoked by how many people came out for the Neurolux album release concert. It was an honor for them to be on the same bill with Red Hands Black Feet and opening act Lucid Aisle (Brent Joel). Boise's Neurolux gig launched the band's northwest tour that took them to the Humble Burger in Moscow, Idaho, then to Spokane, Washington (where their gig was unfortunately canceled due to the headliner act being unable to play), then on to Seattle, and their Oregon gigs in Portland, Eugene and Bend. Russell's personal favorite was Seattle where they played on a bill with Weeed (who hail from Bainbridge Island off the coast of Seattle). Collingwood enjoyed their Eugene gig the most. They were booked into a venue that had been a sorority house in the 1920s, and a commune since the '50s with beautiful artwork all over the walls. Some Eastern Idaho dates are being blocked out for the Fall. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvbEuZZGUa9q9Rp2ijsGsR3_wjibz1naXePwSUvB-qClTBUjddCP7Ggckp0cllKjuZfe4HO3h25u1e5owbTAb0L0QZnTwlAaWZ8pIh7plNWNUfQ11mGLIqKTOwHVg1oCDSM3rIauMToMC9W9w0TC-rG1Wjhc1nZ_alNHsBBYL1qWUs1gtHw/s960/slowcamera%20papparazzi_live%20oil%20painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="960" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAvbEuZZGUa9q9Rp2ijsGsR3_wjibz1naXePwSUvB-qClTBUjddCP7Ggckp0cllKjuZfe4HO3h25u1e5owbTAb0L0QZnTwlAaWZ8pIh7plNWNUfQ11mGLIqKTOwHVg1oCDSM3rIauMToMC9W9w0TC-rG1Wjhc1nZ_alNHsBBYL1qWUs1gtHw/w400-h394/slowcamera%20papparazzi_live%20oil%20painting.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>In Portland, they played the Fixing To where a character who goes by the online handle of "Slowcamera Paparazzi" made a live painting of the band. Although he made live paintings for all the bands on the bill that night, he admitted that he was only there for Ealdor Bealu. He had heard the album and knew he had to see them. His painting was rendered on an LP cover of the Irish Rovers. Collingwood recalls that he had his paints spread around him and a string of Christmas lights around his neck, whereas Abbott was just as amazed that this wet oil painting survived the rest of the tour intact, save a few smudges. One has to wonder why someone would give a touring band a wet painting? An impactical but beautiful thing for a fan to do. <p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4u9G55bVkImBBuscWY5Rm2FGaeyoIeVZ7fo8AJetH2_W5dVAhTP39itfMoOt_CTUDK-PuP8bgzhYf1qNEQTBjtxohJcMNRuLBdfD8XJp7gyTmlX1tYoTMyci8drdvMX7WQmhPeOzrE6F0NZvbpCHzGXO_iT0KYg0qnc-axzSnGQCDKA5ejw/s1200/Ealdor%20Bealu_t-shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1168" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4u9G55bVkImBBuscWY5Rm2FGaeyoIeVZ7fo8AJetH2_W5dVAhTP39itfMoOt_CTUDK-PuP8bgzhYf1qNEQTBjtxohJcMNRuLBdfD8XJp7gyTmlX1tYoTMyci8drdvMX7WQmhPeOzrE6F0NZvbpCHzGXO_iT0KYg0qnc-axzSnGQCDKA5ejw/s320/Ealdor%20Bealu_t-shirt.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>A shout-out needs to be given to Ealdor Bealu's well-managed "merch" table where—along with the CD for sale—t-shirts and decals sporting Chad Remains' Norse-inspired design of a double-headed snake winding up a great tree (whose roots form the lettering of the band's name) were also on sale. For this reviewer, however, Ealdor Bealu's most brilliant merchandise were sturdy guitar picks with a photo of Peach, Rylie and Carson's pet Australian Cattle Dog/Rottweiler.
<p></p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-2260301230299893352022-10-07T23:29:00.005-07:002022-10-07T23:29:41.286-07:00REVIEW: PIGGY (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKE4TCrmPIOYTfmxfsDhPZ86gd_PrVVezs___zXlwvuICp-pR_MkLYVa7K1nGJyIfb_4vq3iv757LaTCZAlZeucu_HzZGsRARKW3kuyf10MaYlxAts9FCp2zbgA-ruynSwC-m_FdKE-3LB6qg6R85aejiEiaGvxbkKabAxJ7gv9XkarrAqw/s592/piggy%20poster.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="592" data-original-width="400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKE4TCrmPIOYTfmxfsDhPZ86gd_PrVVezs___zXlwvuICp-pR_MkLYVa7K1nGJyIfb_4vq3iv757LaTCZAlZeucu_HzZGsRARKW3kuyf10MaYlxAts9FCp2zbgA-ruynSwC-m_FdKE-3LB6qg6R85aejiEiaGvxbkKabAxJ7gv9XkarrAqw/w270-h400/piggy%20poster.jpeg" width="270" /></a></div>In an early scene of <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2717602/?ref_=tt_ov_dr" target="new">Carlota Pereda</a>’s <a href="https://morenafilms.com/en/portfolio/cerdita/" target="new"><b><i>Piggy</i> (2022)</b></a>, the maligned protagonist Sara (in an amazingly brave and assured performance by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3351812/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t3" target="new">Laura Galán</a>) is an overweight teen who secretly fantasizes on being able to ride tandem on a scooter with hunky heartthrob Pedro (<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0665052/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cl_t5" target="new">José Pastor</a>), which she sees other girls do and wishes for herself. But those girls are thin, pretty, and <i>mean</i>. They nickname Sara “Piggy” and make fun of her and her family for operating a butcher’s shop. Yet, by film’s end, Sara achieves her fantasy. She gets to hold onto Pedro’s muscular body while riding on his scooter. So what if it comes at the cost of blood and trauma and isn’t quite the fantasy she secretly wished for? Wishes, after all, come true, not free. <div><br /></div><div>And the cost <i>is</i> considerable in this uniquely compelling horror thriller based on Pereda’s short film on the same theme. Pereda and Galán negotiate a fine line of exploitation in unflinchingly critiquing the peer group bullying and pressure exerted on body types that don’t fit consensual approval. But just like beauty, isn’t exploitation in the eye of the beholder? Any genre filmmaker worth their salt knows that prurience is a valuable resource to manipulate. By now we all know that it’s politically correct for real women to have curves, but <i><b>Piggy</b></i> confronts audiences with the challenge of accepting and feeling empathy for someone who would ordinarily be considered morbidly obese, posing yet again the supposition that morbidity might also be in the eye of the beholder. The adjectives capsize in upon themselves for being so relative and judgmental and, let’s face it, just downright wrong, and admittedly unnecessary. </div><div><br /></div><div>How is one to escape this spectatorial conundrum of being caught in a vise of media-endorsed body images that don’t look anything like your own body? Comparison is, after all, the thief of joy, right? It doesn’t matter how goodlooking you are, whenever you compare yourself with others there will always be someone better looking. <i>Always</i>. How, then, is one to be content in their own skin, accepting the body they have? And what if someone who likes your body as it is—a murderous psycho, let’s say—champions the cause against those who don’t? Even if, at first, you’re intrigued they do, though you’re not completely convinced you want them to?</div><div><br /></div><div>What <i><b>Piggy</b></i> succeeds at best through its use of the torture porn genre is exploring all the emotional nooks and crannies of self-laceration; the insecurities and doubts that generate confusion; the way someone can torture themselves. Can you fall in love with a psycho who starts torturing those who bully you? Is it enough to have a common enemy for attraction, even arousal, to happen? And at what point do you forgive those who bully you and come to their defense if need be? Even if it's against the person who came to your defense? </div><div><br /></div><div>It's complicated, and <i><b>Piggy</b></i> doesn't shy away from all those complicated questions that, really, no body can truthfully answer except the person tormented by them. So after all the shocking brutality of <i><b>Piggy</b></i>, it seems absolutely appropriate at film’s end that Sara gets to climb onto Pedro’s scooter, put her arms around him and rest her head on his strong back. That the audience believes she deserves it is attributable to Galán’s fearlessly honest performance and Pereda’s fiercely compassionate direction. </div><div><br /></div><div>Of related interest: <a href="https://cineuropa.org/en/interview/430970/" target="new">Alfonso Rivera</a>’s <i>Cineuropa</i> interview with Pereda.
</div>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-7361385050242228752022-09-30T10:18:00.001-07:002022-09-30T10:40:36.662-07:00MVFF 44—REVIEW: PATH OF THE PANTHER (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjg5wywTQe6WqCUsJjc3Vcg7ur7aakFjHCh8KILhYw5FZoKznwledbkOGYJfmjx_8ChiUnLYkqUe7EG18AJ7z20MO9H0WbxbW_jdq1Dgbj9GqVYeiE5ArNo7WuZdlPnlmYRQ5uj-zU5i37wZ0uOgcsQQwx_eMLmYh3isJMWMXfMtkZWsckA/s1035/Ward%2002.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="677" data-original-width="1035" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjg5wywTQe6WqCUsJjc3Vcg7ur7aakFjHCh8KILhYw5FZoKznwledbkOGYJfmjx_8ChiUnLYkqUe7EG18AJ7z20MO9H0WbxbW_jdq1Dgbj9GqVYeiE5ArNo7WuZdlPnlmYRQ5uj-zU5i37wZ0uOgcsQQwx_eMLmYh3isJMWMXfMtkZWsckA/w400-h261/Ward%2002.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>The role of wildlife photography and, by extension, cinematography as a conservation initiative had its meager beginnings in the early 1900s when <a href="https://on.natgeo.com/3BRKUEK" target="new">George Shiras</a> (nicknamed “Grandfather Flash”) published a photo in <i>National Geographic</i> magazine of spooked deer bounding away from the camera. Shutter speeds were slow then, and the cameras cumbersome, and it wasn’t until the technological advances of the 1970s, coupled with the burgeoning public awareness of environmental issues, that the art form of wildlife photography gained its political edge. The Endangered Species Conservation Act of 1969 had alerted the public to the number of species being brought to the edge of extinction, largely through human influence on their dwindling habitats, and wildlife photography—advanced by cameras whose shutter speeds were well suited to snapping fast photography with limited disturbance to the subject being photographed—allowed wildlife photographers to give those endangered animals a face. The strategy had always been that—if the public could see the beauty of these animals and witness them in their habitat—then a plea for their protection could be heard and effected. But even with more capable cameras, tracking animals in the wild and catching photos of them proved arduous, time-consuming and problematic. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72DVzAS1VjmZVGDMP-a5fRqv2XTC41P_jkpVJ1VLzgsWwrXBQJizznkIBHCpVKkaQo3KaFXjwFYZipCYthPD7-z10xMUasBRgfbmpZrD4YI8H1cVackSaK_txY_Heja6zvISj6HDwC9pKU0JPSkyF04DW7snlCBVo5znpBFcy0lX3sEbNCw/s431/~_Baloc,%20James_Florida%20Panther%20(Ntl%20Geo%20April%201990).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="431" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72DVzAS1VjmZVGDMP-a5fRqv2XTC41P_jkpVJ1VLzgsWwrXBQJizznkIBHCpVKkaQo3KaFXjwFYZipCYthPD7-z10xMUasBRgfbmpZrD4YI8H1cVackSaK_txY_Heja6zvISj6HDwC9pKU0JPSkyF04DW7snlCBVo5znpBFcy0lX3sEbNCw/w400-h393/~_Baloc,%20James_Florida%20Panther%20(Ntl%20Geo%20April%201990).jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>In the 1990s, wildlife photographer <a href="https://jamesbalog.com/portfolio/endangered-wildlife/" target="new">James Balog</a> inverted that difficult task by choosing to photograph 62 endangered animals either in captivity (such as zoos) or controlled studio settings. By doing so, he underscored how inappropriate these conditions were—past limited biological interest—in saving these animals. Included in his survey was a photograph of a descendant of the endangered Florida panther, a three-year-old mixed breed male (panther mixed with mountain lion) kept in a private Tampa wildlife sanctuary. His photograph was published in the April 1990 issue of <i>National Geographic</i>, and likewise served as the cover to his 1990 collection of photographs entitled <u>Survivors</u>. At the time biologists believed that only 30-50 pure-blooded panthers remained alive in the wild. Offering his portrait of the panther, albeit admixed, was part of a continuing effort to familiarizing this endangered feline—one of the largest cats in the Americas—to the public. Already by 1982, the panther (<i>Felis concolor coryi</i>)—largely because of its endangered status—had been chosen by a vote of students throughout the state to be Florida’s state animal. </div><div><br /></div><div>For the piece Balog wrote for <i>National Geographic</i>, he lamented the role humankind played in the decimation of animal species through development’s relentless destruction of their natural habitats. “Humankind does not stand removed from animals and nature,” he argued, “we are an integral part of the vast network of life forces. Because of certain aspects of our cultural heritage we have exiled ourselves mentally from that network at a terrible cost to the animals and to ourselves. Their endangerment and their alienation from their habitat mirror our own; we too are adrift in the ether of alienation. [¶] We are, after all, the descendants of animals and our identity stems not from our experience <i>with</i> animals, but rather from our experience <i>as</i> animals.” </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqO_TZjE6TDp-66zFUqwL-g9TI1uzpjl8HV6Gc9m-pk_w6del42WF-N3pPzuG4YAyEJeDcUJr9PKLZyYDAcTm2U9NvyRSa6ytR02_9DqzffJE6MuxW-3_T7q7IEekimTdli8W13_ZHohBnhb_00kdoWBmslYtLr2jQ65RStwilLKVi5kDKg/s656/~_Sartore,%20Joel_Ntl%20Geo%20October%202013.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="434" data-original-width="656" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqO_TZjE6TDp-66zFUqwL-g9TI1uzpjl8HV6Gc9m-pk_w6del42WF-N3pPzuG4YAyEJeDcUJr9PKLZyYDAcTm2U9NvyRSa6ytR02_9DqzffJE6MuxW-3_T7q7IEekimTdli8W13_ZHohBnhb_00kdoWBmslYtLr2jQ65RStwilLKVi5kDKg/w400-h265/~_Sartore,%20Joel_Ntl%20Geo%20October%202013.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Balog’s negotiation of photographing animals in human-controlled environments set the precedent for similar efforts, such as <a href="https://www.joelsartore.com/photo-ark/" target="new">Joel Sartore’s stunning Photo Ark project</a>, which included a heartwarming “photograph of the day” for <i>National Geographic</i> in October 2013 of a Florida panther resident in Tampa’s Lowry Park Zoo. By 2013 the number of panthers in the wild had increased to 165. </div><div><br /></div><div>The narrative plight of Florida’s wild panther has been taken up by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2460741/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Erik Bendick</a> whose <a href="https://www.mvff.com/events/path-of-the-panther/" target="new"><b><i>Path of the Panther</i> (2022)</b></a> is having its California premiere at the 44th edition of the Mill Valley Film Festival. Bendick’s documentary launches by profiling the impassioned work of <i>National Geographic</i> photographer <a href="https://www.carltonward.com/" target="new">Carlton Ward, Jr.</a> who we’re introduced to as he chronicles the vehicular death of a Florida panther. Being hit by cars is the number one cause of death for the endangered Florida panther and—at the time of shooting—18 deaths by vehicular collision had happened in one year alone; devastating for an animal whose numbers have reduced to little more than 100.
In the spirit of James Balog’s comment quoted earlier, Ward addresses the “wild spaces that we need to help save <i>ourselves</i>.” </div><div><br /></div><div>At present the Florida Everglades are “ditched, and diked, and dammed” by roadways cutting across them. His method of placing “camera traps” whose shutters are triggered by animal footfall are producing some of the most vivid images of the Florida panther to date. It’s a way, he explains, of having an animal take its own picture. He started caring about Florida’s panthers when he began caring about wildlife corridors, which I was exposed to (and began caring about) when my friend Sharon Matola, founder and former director of The Belize Zoo, detailed for me the efforts endeavored to create a wildlife corridor for the Central American jaguar. Without such a corridor for the Florida panther, there is no hope for revival of the species. </div><div><br /></div><div>Betty Osceola, herself of the panther clan, voices the indigenous wisdom borne from the Miccosukee tribal lands situated in the southern everglades, which the Miccosukee Nation call “the shimmering waters.” They thought of the panther as being the nurturer and protector of all things. It takes care of the land and watches over other wildlife. With its capacity to walk on land, swim rivers, and climb trees, it mirrors the jaguar of Central American mythology as a shamanic animal governing the three levels of creation: the underworld (water), the middle world (earth) and the upper world (sky). The melding of conservation efforts with indigenous wisdom speaks to solidarity of purpose and vision. Another unlikely bedfellow to the cause are the remaining ranchers in Florida who originally killed off panthers as being a threat to their cattle, much like they are now the threat to urban development. The Florida cowboy is a dying breed, just like the panther. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ward’s ancestors moved to Florida in the early to mid-1800s, homesteading in Hardee County in the 1850s. Eighth generation of a family of ranchers, Ward began his wildlife photography work in Africa, where he would be on assignment for months at a time, and which afforded him the troubling perspective each time he returned home of seeing how much was changing in Florida. He now envisions the remaining ranchlands as being the possible hope of creating a wildlife corridor for the endangered panther. </div><div><br /></div><div>Choosing the core range of the Fakahatchee Strand as a potential for the wildest most representative panther habitat, Ward’s engagement with his panther project began. This is where he set up his camera traps. At first emotionally frustrated because—by his own admission—the chances of seeing a panther by daylight in the wild is next to nothing, Ward’s frustration is further aggravated by his cameras being disturbed by inquisitive bears or blundering cattle, reducing his chances for capturing images of the panther within his limited time frames; but, eventually, Ward’s frustration blooms into fulfillment when he captures some of his first images of a female panther (nicknamed “Babs”, since they secured footage of her on the Babcock Ranch). Babs is the first female panther in 43 years to set up new territory and seek breeding grounds north of the Caloosahatchee River, which effectively divides the southern Everglades from the northern Everglades. In pursuit is a muscular male panther of unimaginable strength, also captured by Ward’s cameras; evidence that the system is being brought back into balance. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's to the documentary’s credit that viewers are allowed to participate in Ward’s excitation in recognizing that the photographs he is capturing of these panthers north of the river can serve to spark public interest in preserving the wildlife corridor. But it isn’t until his flight with David Onarato of the <a href="https://www.fws.gov/story/2022-04/florida-panther" target="new">Panther Recovery Team</a> that Ward catches his first airborne glimpse of a panther running on a trail below him. The Panther Recovery Team originated when there were less than 20 panthers in existence as an effort to curtail their extinction. Injured panthers brought to the <a href="https://zootampa.org/" target="new">Zootampa facility</a> are given a chance to survive by, first, healing their wounds, then being released back into the wild; a truly triumphant experience also captured by Ward. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cleverly using camera dissolves to simulate the disappearance of the panther, <i><b>Path of the Panther</b></i> segues to footage from Ward’s camera traps that show panthers utilizing the wildlife underpasses beneath Florida’s interstate highways, a project endeavored by <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/florida-toll-road-threatens-wildlife-panthers" target="new">Brent Setchell</a>, an engineer with the Florida Department of Transportation. Setchell helped design and implement these underpasses, which have become a priority for new roads or roads undergoing construction. Since 1990, more than 50 wildlife underpasses have been added to the area of the panther’s current range, which has helped to reduce road mortalities and allowed passage past fenced ranch lands and the treacherous roadways into the northern territories necessary for the panther’s increased chances for survival. Without these consciously and conscientiously engineered underpasses a wildlife corridor would not even be possible. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lovely home movie footage of Ward as a child harvesting wild oranges with his grandfather poignantly provides a continuity of image that accentuates how Ward’s childhood belief that his family’s ranch would always be there could actually be lost should a proposed development of three new toll roads gain traction in the legislature. One of the toll roads would cut right through his family’s ranch. Elton Langford, himself a rancher, as well as a Desoto County commissioner, joins forces with Ward to protest the toll road proposal. Within eight months of the proposal going public, land goes from $2,500 an acre to $20,000 an acre as investors began speculating on real estate development. Once again echoing Balog, Langford states that “We’ve got to protect them [wild panthers] as much as we can, because if we have habitat for them, that leaves habitat for us.” </div><div><br /></div><div>The documentary then veers into efforts to convince the powers-that-be not to go forward with the toll road proposal. But it’s not just political forces that pose a danger, it’s also elemental ones as Hurricane Irma approaches Florida and—with Hurricane Ian wreaking havoc and destruction in just the past few days—the repeated hazard of hurricane damage threatens the habitat of the wild panther, necessitating their passage north away from southern Florida’s rising water levels. It poses the questions whether panthers can sense such meteorological disturbances and have a means of seeking shelter? The damage to conservation equipment and research is insurmountable. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO0MbkhKsKVW4mvr9Ee4PBrrXJQCPd6_WPEZ2rXHxs2JcS6BxU6egTgWU4QK1Sqej1ZJPIXQzDWmuERW2usUnamYm8o8QnpIhKCxxDObKM6-sKC-fdG1sRu-4EaXukvOqBCx1mZeh63akdqiIG1O_xu2x0xDDFe_1uKNQdDEzWqglA1Ufbw/s678/Ward.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="630" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO0MbkhKsKVW4mvr9Ee4PBrrXJQCPd6_WPEZ2rXHxs2JcS6BxU6egTgWU4QK1Sqej1ZJPIXQzDWmuERW2usUnamYm8o8QnpIhKCxxDObKM6-sKC-fdG1sRu-4EaXukvOqBCx1mZeh63akdqiIG1O_xu2x0xDDFe_1uKNQdDEzWqglA1Ufbw/w371-h400/Ward.jpeg" width="371" /></a></div><br />It's in the Big Cypress Basin that <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/nice-shot-florida-panthers-animals" target="new">Ward’s lifelong dream of coming face to face with a wild panther</a> materializes and, once again, the documentary thrillingly takes us into the heart of the moment, which he has anticipated for 20 years. His exhilaration at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity transitions into heartbreak when he realizes that the only reason that the panther is moving slow enough for Ward to photograph her is because she is waiting for her kitten to catch up. The kitten, whose painfully faltering steps Ward records, has fallen victim to <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/florida-panthers-bobcats-mysterious-disease-flm" target="new">feline leukomyelopathy, a mysterious neurological disease afflicting panthers and bobcats</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>The balance between setbacks and breakthroughs continues to define the plight and fate of the endangered Florida panther. It’s gratifying to see that the combined efforts of indigenous people, ranchers and conservationists have effectively <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/florida-wildlife-corridor-legislation-unanimous-environmental-law" target="new">blocked the proposal for the toll roads</a> and strengthened political resolve to implement the <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/animals/article/florida-wildlife-corridor-properties-protected" target="new">Florida Wildlife Corridor Act</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>In summation, Ward asserts: “The panther is showing us that it’s not too late. It’s showing us that these remnants of nature can still be reconnected. And if we do that, there’s no limit to the scale of life and balance that we can bring back across this entire continent. To see the way that this story can unify and bring people together, I have tremendous hope that what wildlife corridors can do to bring people together across the entirety of this country.”
</div>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-17505703507271319902022-09-23T07:39:00.004-07:002022-09-23T07:39:30.079-07:00REVIEW: GRATITUDE REVEALED (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_L2F627e59m9cnqt3VXdAX7SBEpbPOlJGTAIQJDZ3Qfe5SL74llHZczUkzIMqU65EdoLvVKQWa5LmISB-eOGR-jmCCpxB1qdr_yJshGJppH6oYhvAqQKtDXgOdJtMFVR8UsF6ETZxDcPMCaXzR6MI3Vi83BcE8DOWC3eiZOxNq4W5Dcx4w/s1548/Screenshot%202022-09-23%20at%2001-20-42%20Gratitude%20Revealed%20(2022).png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1548" data-original-width="1034" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP_L2F627e59m9cnqt3VXdAX7SBEpbPOlJGTAIQJDZ3Qfe5SL74llHZczUkzIMqU65EdoLvVKQWa5LmISB-eOGR-jmCCpxB1qdr_yJshGJppH6oYhvAqQKtDXgOdJtMFVR8UsF6ETZxDcPMCaXzR6MI3Vi83BcE8DOWC3eiZOxNq4W5Dcx4w/w268-h400/Screenshot%202022-09-23%20at%2001-20-42%20Gratitude%20Revealed%20(2022).png" width="268" /></a></div><p>Described as a “cinematic quilt”, award-winning cinematographer, director and producer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0777498/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0" target="new">Louie Schwartzberg</a>’s <a href="https://gratituderevealed.com/" target="new"><b><i>Gratitude Revealed</i> (2022)</b></a> stitches together finessed medallions of color, texture and rhythm into a resounding syncretic whole redolent with inspiration and sage guidance, often from the mouths of children and the bright expressive eyes of the elderly. <i><b>Gratitude Revealed</b></i> solicits repeated viewings to appreciate the depth of its complexity and the value of its cohesion. </p><p>I’ve seen Schwartzberg’s work in several films over the past few decades but it was his 2019 documentary <a href="https://fantasticfungi.com/" target="new"><i><b>Fantastic Fungi</b></i></a>, a Netflix darling, that won me over completely. I have recommended <i><b>Fantastic Fungi</b></i> to dozens of people and am grateful that I can do the same for <i><b>Gratitude Revealed</b></i> with equal assurance. </p><p>For me gratitude is a spiritual discipline, much like Norman Lear’s definition of the two journeys each human being is offered: one is horizontal—what I would call the soul’s trajectory, the longbody of life from cradle to tomb—and the other is vertical, the conduit through which the soul’s trajectory is informed by spirit. The act, the grace, of inspiration. </p><p>For over 30 years Schwartzberg has been the patient master of timelapse cinematography and, again, I am grateful for his patience and his trust in what the world will offer and reveal to him. He literally allows his viewers to comprehend the beauty of the longbody in condensed form. A flower, ensorcelled by tropism, wiggles up from the earth, sprouts two leaves, then four, then more, then buds and bursts or bolts into bloom, which seduces the courtship of pollinators. One can use the metaphor of the flower to represent the whole of a human life and when one captures that growth in timelapse photography it provides the wondrous sense of the cycle of being. It’s truly wonderful to behold. Timelapse allows you not only to witness the passing of time but to <i>feel</i> it, to <i>identify</i> with it, to recognize and align oneself <i>with</i> it. </p><p>When Catholic Benedictine monk and scholar Brother David Steindl-Rast speaks to the beauty of clouds in the sky, Schwartzberg is able to ramp up the visual shapeshifting of clouds to address the power of breath, for after all isn’t that what clouds tells us? That the earth is breathing, as we are breathing upon it? When he shifts into slow motion when filming urban congestion and metropolitan patterns, it is also a way to measure breath, reminding us to slow breath down so that we can accept beauty in all its forms: both natural and urban. A scenic waterfall is, in essence, the same as the flow of people riding up and down an escalator. </p><p>To return to the analogy of the cinematic quilt and the art of stitching medallions together to create a composite image, I’m surprised that Schwartzberg hasn’t employed timelapse photography to capture, let’s say, the variant stitchings of a crazy quilt being assembled by a quilting bee. I’ve always loved that term—“quilting bee”—as it engenders the creative activity of communal effort by honoring the industry of the insect that gives it its name. Attributed to colonial America when people were dependent on communal work to accomplish certain tasks such as barn raising, harvesting, and the finishing of quilts, the analogy is a relevant and contemporary reference to the necessity of communal work if humankind is to advance and survive. Gratitude has as much to do with recognizing the value of communal activity as it is about the joy of accomplished tasks, of building community. </p><p>Schwartzberg achieves that communal recognition through a developed and articulate mode of interviewing technique, or rather through honest conversation and authentic communication. I have often said that my world is made up of conversations and <i><b>Gratitude Revealed</b></i> creates such a world cinematically. Schwartzberg has chosen his dozens of luminaries well. His approach has been much like mine in balancing the celebrity voices of the well-known with the articulations of the lesser known or fully unknown. He champions the cultural inflections of ethnicities, honors those finding their voices in recovery, and melds the wisdom of children near to source and the wisdom of elders returning to source. </p><p>So much is <i>said</i> in <i><b>Gratitude Revealed</b></i> that so much can be said about what is said, which (again) can more aptly be described as praise, if not prayer, if not song. All I can do is pick out a few of the stitchings that caught my eye in this cinematic quilt, or a few of the phrases that I hear most clearly in this communal conversation; but, I certainly encourage each viewer to appreciate their own. This is a film that makes you grateful to have eyes to see and ears to listen and I am certain each viewer will—as the film attests—appreciate what they feel in each moment and become grateful for what they remember of what has touched their hearts. </p><p>What touched my heart the most, I will admit, is the animated sequence wherein In-Q reads his poem “85”. As someone who has witnessed the deaths of many loved ones, who has been broken and restored by hospital bedside vigils, I am grateful that the love that conquers sorrow can be so eloquently expressed and so magnificently represented. </p><p>Norman Lear is such a great talking head in this community of teachers because he has had such a vibrant cultural impact through the redemptive hope of humor, which he admittedly developed to honor the uncles who raised him after he lost his parents. By seeking out what he could give back to them for helping him through grief, he recognized the gift of laughter, strengthened it, and ended up giving laughter to the world, irrevocably changing perspectives and effecting socio-cultural change. I also appreciated his deep respect for everyday interaction with the people who populate one’s daily life—from the barrista who serves you coffee, the server who brings you food, workmates, the cashier at the till who checks out your groceries, to strangers on the street practicing random acts of kindness. Myself, I always stop to talk to old dogs, to scratch their battered ears and look into the eyes that understand my own frosty snout. </p><p> Like my motivational favorite Brené Brown, sociologist and author Christine Carter impressed me with her attention to how important it is to have distinct meanings to specific words like “happiness”—distinguishing it from the pursuit of pleasure and gratification, which only leaves us wanting more, or the fallacious pursuit of busy-ness as a mark of character—and to understand that these words we have for emotions are physiologically based, which might allow us to physically practice the skill of experiencing emotions such as happiness. </p><p> Jason Silva’s riprap incant on craving the connective ecstasy of intersubjectivity is a seductive spoken poem and his definition of cinema as an “engine of empathy” encapsulates Schwartzberg’s purpose in creating films like <i><b>Gratitude Revealed</b></i>. His praise of the digital power of the internet as a “technologically mediated Buddhism” had me squirming around in my seat with joyful agreement. </p><p>And I must call out to the presence of Schwartzberg in his own film, recounting the tenacity of his parents to survive the holocaust, to be grateful to have children, whose resiliency inspired him to tell stories of survival, of optimism, of “participating joyfully”—as Joseph Campbell once penned—“in the sorrows of the world.” </p><p><i><b>Gratitude Revealed</b></i>’s presence in theaters has been far too brief, but like <i><b>Fantastic Fungi</b></i>, I anticipate it will achieve its greatest impact through the technologically mediated Buddhism of streaming platforms. Catch it now, catch it then, catch it again and again. </p><p>Be grateful.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IPV8aTT1uMc" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-2048068018532619232022-08-06T14:08:00.001-07:002022-08-06T15:11:21.400-07:00HALLELUJAH: LEONARD COHEN, A JOURNEY, A SONG (2021)—THE EVENING CLASS INTERVIEW WITH DAYNA GOLDFINE & DAN GELLER (PART ONE)<p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_iNPLr3gT-o1Csl9GmMTrzWMeA2dTawVpp0Vi7tbxWMIBLr7wJjXoDqh9DROVt8BMdvI-ogFMO_SnvU5IZZBc1pQU89LsDCB_UafGe0LMB7JYLaThx7_VQK0hIAM_EQPRHxn_-472NuSWqMVaa_BjTErzzCGc3QrxK9bPbrsiwEqJRfw0FA/s587/hallelujah_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="587" data-original-width="396" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_iNPLr3gT-o1Csl9GmMTrzWMeA2dTawVpp0Vi7tbxWMIBLr7wJjXoDqh9DROVt8BMdvI-ogFMO_SnvU5IZZBc1pQU89LsDCB_UafGe0LMB7JYLaThx7_VQK0hIAM_EQPRHxn_-472NuSWqMVaa_BjTErzzCGc3QrxK9bPbrsiwEqJRfw0FA/w270-h400/hallelujah_poster.jpg" width="270" /></a></i></div><i>Now I've heard there was a secret chord </i><p></p><p><i>That David played, and it pleased the Lord </i></p><p><i>But you don’t really care for music, do you? </i></p><p><i>It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth </i></p><p><i>The minor fall, the major lift </i></p><p><i>The baffled king composing Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i>Your faith was strong but you needed proof </i></p><p><i>You saw her bathing on the roof </i></p><p><i>Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you </i></p><p><i>She tied you to a kitchen chair </i></p><p><i>She broke your throne, and she cut your hair </i></p><p><i>And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i>Well, maybe there's a God above </i></p><p><i>As for me all I've ever learned from love </i></p><p><i>Is how to shoot somebody who outdrew you </i></p><p><i>But it's not a crime that you're here tonight </i></p><p><i>It's not some pilgrim who's seen the Light </i></p><p><i>No, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i>Well people I've been here before </i></p><p><i>I know this room and I've walked this floor </i></p><p><i>You see I used to live alone before I knew you </i></p><p><i>And I've seen your flag on the marble arch </i></p><p><i>But listen love, love is not some kind of victory march, no </i></p><p><i>It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i>There was a time you let me know </i></p><p><i>What's really going on below </i></p><p><i>But now you never show it to me, do you? </i></p><p><i>I remember when I moved in you </i></p><p><i>And the holy dove she was moving too </i></p><p><i>And every single breath we drew was Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i> </i></p><p><i>Now I've done my best, I know it wasn't much </i></p><p><i>I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch </i></p><p><i>I've told the truth, I didn’t come here just to fool you </i></p><p><i>And even though it all went wrong </i></p><p><i>I'll stand right here before the Lord of song </i></p><p><i>With nothing, nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah, Hallelujah </i></p><p><i>Hallelujah</i> </p><p>Quoting the lyrics of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” can arguably only be a snapshot in time. As laid out in <a href="https://www.sonyclassics.com/film/hallelujah/" target="new"><b><i>Hallelujah: Leonard Cohen, a Journey, a Song</i> (2021)</b></a>—<a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0325603/" target="new">Dayna Goldfine</a> and <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0002739/" target="new">Dan Geller</a>’s long-anticipated documentary (it took eight years to make)—"Hallelujah” was a song whose lyrics Cohen adjusted for years. <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/authors/Alan-Light/84873627" target="new">Alan Light</a> described it as “a little number he had been sweating over for years.”(1) Reputedly, the song had gone through anywhere from 80 to 180 draft versions.(2) Although it might seem that—since Cohen has been dead for nearly six years now—the lyrics of “Hallelujah” would be indisputably fixed, there remains a forward momentum to the song that suggests its intention to continue evolving, having already gone through so many transitions and varied performances within Cohen’s lifetime, subsequently shifting into a standard cover for multiple performers (at last count over 300), edging towards an ensouled anthem, and destined (I believe) to become a traditional a century or two down the line. “Hallelujah” is a song that has found and celebrates a life of its own.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/11IPQYZMXjc" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>As synopsized in the film’s trailer, the resurrection of “Hallelujah” from its near-death is the stuff of music legend, and as close to remedial justice as an artist could ever hope for. Five years after <i>Recent Songs</i> (1979), Cohen’s sixth studio album (and the third in a row that failed to do well), Cohen came down from a zen monastery on Mount Baldy, just north-east of Los Angeles, and entered into collaboration with producer <a href="http://www.johnlissauer.com/" target="new">John Lissauer</a> to craft <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Various_Positions" target="new"><i>Various Positions</i> (1984)</a>, which featured Cohen’s first recorded version of “Hallelujah.” Upon completion, Lissauer was convinced the album was going to be an important breakthrough for Cohen. Unexpectedly, Walter Yetnikoff—then president of CBS Records—hated it and refused to distribute it, even though it had been paid for. <i>Various Positions</i> was eventually picked up by the independent label Passport Records, and the album was finally included in the catalogue in 1990 when Columbia released the Cohen discography on compact disc. A remastered CD was issued in 1995.(3) </p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/z1rB_XvrM5Q" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Despite the shortsightedness of Yetnikoff, “Hallelujah” was performed by Cohen on tour (with varying lyrics). “Hallelujah” was then first covered by John Cale in 1991, which inspired <a href="https://youtu.be/y8AWFf7EAc4" target="new">Jeff Buckley’s 1994 version</a>. Both versions, strengthened by <a href="https://youtu.be/LQK4YfiPj1Q" target="new">Rufus Wainwright’s rendition on the <b><i>Shrek</i></b> soundtrack (2001)</a> helped the song gain traction. The ability for a cover of a song to, in effect, rescue and resuscitate a song seemed an appropriate place to launch a conversation with Dayna Goldfine and Dan Geller. </p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-gi3J8nPKPE" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>My thanks to Karen Larsen, Zachary Thomson and Zahra Sadrane of Larsen Associates for facilitating that conversation during the film’s mid-June San Francisco press junket at the Fairmont Hotel.</p><p style="text-align: center;"> * * *
<b> </b></p><p><b>Michael Guillén: What is the value of a cover song? What <i>is</i> a cover song? Why that term “cover”? Do you have insight into what is the value of a covered song? Traditionals have always meant a lot to me. I interact with several young musicians in Boise, Idaho—there’s a strong music scene there—and I’ve argued for their learning traditionals.</b> </p><p>Dayna Goldfine: What would you consider a traditional?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wayfaring_Stranger_(song)" target="new">“Wayfaring Stranger”</a>, which has been around for 300 years. It’s been sung a million different ways. It could be the subject of another documentary!!</b> </p><p>Goldfine: There’s a documentary Bill Moyers made about <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt3514808/reference/" target="new"><b><i>Amazing Grace</i> (1990)</b></a>. That’s the only other one about a single song…. </p><p>Dan Geller: The value of a cover—it’s an interesting question—because most songs that you’re talking about that I would consider covered are songs where the major difference is in the musicality of the song. The song holds its own as its own emotional and intellectual orbit but the musicality will shift around it a bit. The emotional emphasis may shift a bit. </p><p>“Hallelujah” is strange because the lyrics are so prismatic in a way—they’re so complex—that those covers by different artists seem like they’re entirely different songs. Just the preoccupations of the singer—whether they’re more enchanted by the Biblical references or by the sense of brokenness, or the yearning, or the celebration—they’re so different from each other that I can’t think of another song where the covers themselves almost feel like they’re new songs. </p><p>Goldfine: Right. I probably wouldn’t be able to answer your question as a generic “what’s the value of a cover”; it’s more like “what’s the value of a cover of ‘Hallelujah’?” In an early incarnation when we were first thinking about this project, we were going to have a strand of this film where we would follow two or three artists as they decided to sing the song for the first time. We were going to watch the process that they used to make the song their own. </p><p>Ultimately, a film tells you what it wants to be and—as we continued on the journey of making this film—that strand went by the wayside; but, I think every single cover of the song that we listened to, where people have really thought about it and made it their own, it’s a unique creation. I don’t think <a href="https://www.brandicarlile.com/" target="new">Brandi Carlile</a>’s version is the same version <a href="https://www.ericchurch.com/" target="new">Eric Church</a> sang spontaneously at Red Rock because he was feeling blessed that night.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ju93DUqV1i0" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7j39tLbDCh0" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Geller: Or even how Leonard covers his own song with different lyrics along the way. The way he covered his own song—it’s certainly seen in the handful of video covers that are in the movie—they almost look like he’s singing a completely different song for a very different reason in each of those. That’s one of the reasons—as we got deeper and deeper into the movie—why we felt that the songwriter and the song, his preoccupation and the song he wrote and kept rewriting, were so twinned up together. To watch his own covering of his own song evolve in that way was startling. I hadn’t seen that footage before. We knew him from either hearing the original recording or seeing the concerts at the Paramount late in his life. When these other versions kept popping up while we were doing the research, it was startling to me; I had no idea.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: It was a startling pronouncement in the documentary when Cohen admitted he wanted the song to become secular. That was a nice moment in the film because it made me think, “Oh! He chose to take it out of that holy realm.”</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Isn’t that cool? At a certain point he wanted to bring the song back down to Earth.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuuVeyqeC0PaKvvdF4LN_T2JCZm_x0O-Agb22Qorz_ivIBcQfGYbJxf7VnmeRP2lhHh8MeKSE25nHhMcB8vxcLYOOBrE9N1kJAz5vHbeY0BY3dM6Cxt3vQfYSGb9a4tynUnEfC1iH0E1EX-395rEEb3SrO0QQKdAH5JizWG-j0VJhSWW0oQ/s1375/@_Light,%20Alan_Holy%20or%20the%20Broken.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1375" data-original-width="1150" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuuVeyqeC0PaKvvdF4LN_T2JCZm_x0O-Agb22Qorz_ivIBcQfGYbJxf7VnmeRP2lhHh8MeKSE25nHhMcB8vxcLYOOBrE9N1kJAz5vHbeY0BY3dM6Cxt3vQfYSGb9a4tynUnEfC1iH0E1EX-395rEEb3SrO0QQKdAH5JizWG-j0VJhSWW0oQ/w335-h400/@_Light,%20Alan_Holy%20or%20the%20Broken.jpeg" width="335" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: I understand that the structural traction of the documentary was based upon Alan Light’s <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Holy-or-the-Broken/Alan-Light/9781451657869" target="new"><i>The Holy or the Broken: Leonard Cohen, Jeff Buckley, and the Unlikely Ascent of "Hallelujah"</i></a> (2012)?</b> <p></p><p>Goldfine: Not so much the structure because in a lot of ways the film just jumps off from the book. But Alan’s book was inspiring, because—basically, knowing that someone could get 250+ pages out of this song—gave us heart that we could probably do a film. But his book really does intertwine the Jeff Buckley and Leonard Cohen trajectories with the song and our film has a section of Jeff, but that’s it. </p><p>Geller: But it was the inspiration, certainly. And Alan became a consulting producer and advisor, and also introduced us to all sorts of people. In many ways it was the <i>depth</i> of Alan’s book that was inspiring. It wasn’t just a simple sketching of “Gee, interesting that this song was rejected and then went on to heights.” It was the depth with which he approached the book that informed us that our film was going to be possible.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Language is a funny thing, y’know, particularly in its false dichotomies—the holy "and / or" the broken—whereas my appreciation for Cohen over the years since I was a teenager has always been that it’s not an either / or proposition we’re talking about when accessing the poetry of Leonard Cohen, which is holy and profane at the same time. That’s what I love about his work. There’s no “or” to fiddle over. Any comprehension of his work must embrace and encompass both. </b></p><p><b>I could say the same thing about “Hallelujah.” People want to say, “I’m singing it in a sexual way” or “I’m singing it in a religious way”; but, neither approach really matters because the listener, the wild card, is going to take the song as they understand it anyways. For someone who’s being chaste, “Hallelujah” might be sexy beyond belief in its lyrics alone, no matter how its sung or how—as you said, Dan—its musicality is interpreted. </b></p><p><b>Did the two of you ever get to talk to Leonard Cohen in person?</b> </p><p>Geller: We did not. And Alan’s advice was, “Don’t ask for an interview because you’ll never get it. Then they won’t even consider letting you do the movie.” The point of Leonard’s life was, “Leave me alone. I need to concentrate on writing what I can.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Your film had a wonderful metaphor. I don’t know if he said it or you two said it about reaching an older age.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Leonard said, “I’m not saying that 70 is old age, but it’s definitely the foothills.” </p><p>Geller: The other thing he said is that it’s indisputably <i>not</i> youth. </p><p>Goldfine: But he said there’s a pressing sense—I mean, these aren’t his exact words—but, there’s the pressing sense that one needs to complete one’s work. I thought that was so beautiful.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: That’s where <i>I</i> am!! On the edge of 70, I identify with that <i>so</i> much. I live in a valley surrounded by foothills that every winter—when they’re covered with snow—I’m <i>feeling</i>. I find myself hiking in these foothills. It’s a liminal space conducive to subjectivity. I’m not quite old, and I happen to think I’m still good-looking…. [Laughter.]</b> </p><p>Goldfine: [Laughter]. You <i>arrrreeeeee…</i>!!
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Oh, <i>thank you</i>!!</b> </p><p>Geller: And you dress well!! [Laughter.] </p><p>But getting back to what you were asking about lyrics being “ands” and not “ors”, and how you interpret it, there’s a moment with <a href="https://www.rabbifinley.com/" target="new">Rabbi Mordecai Finley</a> that’s not in the movie but was in the interview we did with him. We were going through the verses of “Hallelujah” together, just so I could understand his take on some of it, and we came to that verse:
<i> </i></p><p><i>Remember when I came in you </i></p><p><i>And the Holy Dove was moving too</i> </p><p>He went on about how that was right out of Medieval Jewish literature, but I said, “Rabbi, that couplet is about <i>sex</i>.”
“No it’s not,” he said.
I recited, “Remember when <i>I moved in you</i> and the Holy Dove was moving too? That’s about having sex.”
You could see his eyes pop. “Oh my God, I never even thought about it that way,” he admitted. </p><p>That’s to your point that one reason “Hallelujah” can be sung at weddings, or funerals, at all sorts of different events, is because you can approach the song on your own terms and get from it what you want; but—if you really look at the song—you can approach that same lyric and say, “Well, what else is it trying to say?” And it will be saying a lot of things. Every single line will be saying a lot of things, inviting you in to multiple interpretations.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: As a teenager discovering Cohen (largely through Judy Collins singing “Suzanne” and then getting caught up in his published poetry), I steered through puberty reading sensuality—if not sexuality—into all of his spiritual phrasings. The importance of that fusion became seared into my sensibility.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Maybe halfway through the film, <a href="https://www.sharonrobinsonmusic.com/" target="new">Sharon Robinson</a> says that Leonard conflated the feminine with spirituality. Leonard does this riff on how, y’know, this is something we drive towards, the sexual impulse, but it’s the other side of the spiritual impulse and this sense of wanting to get at the bottom of the meaning of life. He constantly twinned those two forces.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Which brings us to his understanding that his poetry was responsive to or informed by the <i>bat kohl</i>.</b> </p><p>Goldfyne: Which Rabbi Finley articulates as the “feminine voice of God.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: That quality of the <i>bat kohl</i> in Cohen’s poetry was influential upon me as a young person and, admittedly, a presiding guide to my own writing. Authors that I sought out after Cohen, such as <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2010/12/chasmtwo-letters-from-william-goyen.html" target="new">William Goyen</a>, also wrote with a fusion of the sensual and the spiritual. </b></p><p><b>A song is like a room that you walk into that you’re thinking of renting for a while. What are you going to put up on the walls? What color are you going to paint the walls? What will you do to make this room yours? It’s the same with a song—and is part of my interest in covers—is how do you make a song <i>yours</i>? What is necessary creatively to make a song yours? How will it be different than how others sing it? </b></p><p><b>The variance of how one can interpret a song has preoccupied my consciousness since I was a child. We were migrant laborers and I grew up singing in the fields, or listening to friends and family singing in the fields. My mother had a beautiful singing voice and she would sing while we were working and—inspired by her—sometimes I would sing. I remember one time this guy we were working with commented, “You sing too <i>slow</i>.”</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Interesting. What does that even <i>mean</i>?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Exactly! But it hurt my feelings at the time and I protested, “No I don’t. It’s just the way I sing.” Then someone else actually supported me and said, “He’s singing that song absolutely okay. Leave him alone.”
But then that made me wonder: <i>was</i> I singing slow? And, if so, <i>why</i>?</b> </p><p> Goldfine: I don’t think there’s a rule. There have been two cases where this film has shown at festivals. The first was in Denmark, in Copenhagen, and one of the programmers found three Danish musicians to perform after the screening and sing various versions of Leonard Cohen songs. This one young woman sang, “That’s No Way to Say Good-bye” and it was a very different “That’s No Way to Say Good-bye” than Leonard would have done, but it was a poignant version. And then this last Sunday at the Beacon Theater in New York <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanda_Shires" target="new">Amanda Shires</a> [<a href="https://amandashiresmusic.com/" target="new">website</a>]—who’s a country crossover who idolizes Leonard—she sang “I’m Your Man” and played it on her ukulele. It was unbelievable. I loved hearing a woman sing, “I’m Your Man.” It was completely distinct from how Leonard would have sung it.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ryHF7vwNsYQ" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Geller: There are some artists where the original recording of what they did was so specific to the entity of the song that it’s almost impossible to think that anyone can do a version that would match up. With the exception of Cocker doing “With A Little Help From My Friends”, pretty much everything in The Beatles catalog you cannot find any cover that equals that original. It’s the sonic environment that they created, the way they sang it, everything, it just can’t be topped.
Cohen’s different because the words are so deep and so important and offer so much possibility for interpretation. I think there are plenty of covers of his songs that are every bit as good as the original versions. </p><p>Goldfine: Why would we even need to go, “This one’s good. This one’s not good. This one’s better. This one’s not.” They’re all valid.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Because they’re doorways. Each song is a way to enter the body of Cohen’s work.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: But what I was going to say is that for me the word would be that they’re every bit as <i>valid</i>, as opposed to good.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Yes. Again, emotional truth.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Exactly. </p><p><b>Guillén: The documentary has such a wonderful cast of talking heads, some who I knew, some who I didn’t know. I was delighted to see <a href="https://rufuswainwright.com/" target="new">Rufus Wainwright</a>—because I adore Rufus—and I had totally forgotten that his version of “Hallelujah” was on the <i>Shrek</i> soundtrack. But I was also noticing significant absences that I would have included if I were a filmmaker and only because I am caught up in my own <i>mythos</i> of Leonard Cohen. He’s not only a direct influence on my life as a writer but that influence has been continual. I’ve read everything he’s written. Read everything I could get my hands on that was written about him. Listened to every song he’s sung and any covers I’ve known about. <a href="https://www.jenniferwarnes.com/" target="new">Jennifer Warnes</a>. </b></p><p>Goldfine / Geller: [In unison] She’s the one! </p><p>Geller: We couldn’t get her. </p><p>Goldfine: We <i>tried</i> to get her.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Famous_Blue_Raincoat_(album)" target="new"><i>“Famous Blue Raincoat”</i></a> was the album of Cohen covers that brought him back to me. I had set him aside as the poet of my youth, feeling I had to move on, but then Jennifer brought out her album <i>“Famous Blue Raincoat”</i> and I felt, “Oh my God!!”</b> </p><p> Goldfine: Believe me, we tried.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I had no idea that she had been a back-up singer for him until your documentary. I knew she had backed up Roy Orbison, but I didn’t know about Cohen.</b></p><p><b> </b>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TOvz0Ozf4G8" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Geller: Our inability to get her to talk on the documentary was a combination of things. First, it was too close after Leonard’s death when we approached her; she, among others, really needed to hibernate a bit with their feeling about what that had been like. And she’s very shy as well. As far as people we went after, she was the only one who declined. </p><p>Goldfine: Obviously, she was front and center when we first started thinking about who to approach. Though I have to say that Sharon Robinson is also a great back-up singer and then a collaborator with Cohen on many albums. </p><p><b>Guillén: I was so glad to be introduced to Sharon through your documentary. </b></p><p>Goldfine: She’s amazing. John Lissauer was a very early interview as well, back in 2016, and we knew he was friends with Jennifer and I remember saying, “We would like to interview her” and he said, “I’ll be surprised if she does it. She’s very shy.” At that point Leonard was still alive so we put it on a back burner and started asking other people. Then Leonard passed. I had reached out to <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roscoe_Beck" target="new">Roscoe Beck</a>, who was Jennifer’s ex-husband, and who was in the process of producing her last album, which came out a couple of years ago. I asked if he would sit for an interview and he said, “You don’t want me. You want Jennifer.” At that point I wrote back and said, “Indeed. But everyone tells us she’s too shy.” He said, “Write me a letter and I’ll forward it to her.” He was generous enough to do that. She still said, “I just don’t want to. My memories of Leonard are here and I’m not really ready to articulate them.” As a filmmaker, I think it’s very important to respect that. When a potential subject of an interview tells you clearly and articulately, “I don’t want to do it”, I think it’s only fair as a filmmaker to go, “I respect that.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: What about Cohen saying that people should stop singing “Hallelujah”?</b> </p><p>Goldfine: I agree with <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0806146/?ref_=tt_rv_t21" target="new">“Ratso”</a> that he was kidding.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Kidding, perhaps, but also not kidding? I don’t believe in either / or positions. I think multiple feelings are going on at the same time.</b> </p><p>Geller: I think so too.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The other person whose absence I noted—though you did have one image of her—was <a href="https://jonimitchell.com/" target="new">Joni Mitchell</a>.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Because we were looking at it through the prism of “Hallelujah”, it narrowed our choices. But it was a gift to us as well because it meant we didn’t need to be trying to make the definitive Leonard Cohen bio pic. Every time we thought about who we were going to interview and what kind of things we were going to include, it was always, “How does this fit into the prism of ‘Hallelujah’ ”? And, of course, his relationship with Joni was in the ‘60s and it wasn’t that long-lived, so it didn’t make sense to include her.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Which I accept and understand, but more I was thinking about “Rainy Night House”, the song she wrote about him.</b></p><p><b> </b>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cDsqbtIv2tg" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Goldfyne: And “Case Of You”.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pOKESEtmhis" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Geller: If you can get us the interview, I’ll be down in a second.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I’ll see what I can do. [Laughter.]</b> </p><p>Goldfine: But then again, it didn’t make much sense. Jennifer was for sure.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well, all the more reason to congratulate you on the strenuous work you did obtaining the archival footage. I’ll give you a classic reaction, because I can only have a personal reaction to this film. Your press notes have excellently laid out the process of making this film and I will borrow from that for review, but for me your film was just all so <i>personal</i>. I had always heard that Leonard was a ladies man, a serial <i>amoreaux</i>. I monitored these different affairs he had and the songs that came out of them. The archival footage you presented that I loved was when he was talking about how when you get older as a Jewish man, you change your name. He was talking to this woman about how he would change his name to September. He is so beautiful and so sensual in that sequence and the smile on his face is so seductive. You could see how he was seducing this woman and how irresistible he was. I could see how women would fall in love with him.</b> </p><p>Geller: He’s like a cat toying with a mouse.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Exactly. And he does that a lot actually.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: I love that footage.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Can you talk about where you got that footage. It enfleshed him.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: We had seen that footage early and catalogued it in our minds and also in our notes on archival footage. </p><p>Geller: That’s <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/" target="new">CBC</a> footage. </p><p>Goldfine: But it wasn’t until we were fortunate enough to sit down with Leonard’s rabbi, Rabbi Finley, in L.A. over coffee that he reminded us of that footage and unpacked it for us in a Jewish way. It was like, “Oh my God. This gives us a whole other layer.” Then when we got back home after that interview with Rabbi Finley and revisited that footage, it was unbelievably rich footage in terms of the way Leonard was flirting mercilessly with this woman. She was in his palm.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: <i>As was I!!</i> That’s what I’m saying. I’m so grateful that you found and incorporated this CBC footage because I felt that <i>I</i> was being seduced by Leonard Cohen.</b> </p><p>Geller: And also being toyed with, because when he says September—and he’s not fessing up that it’s a Jewish rite of passage—when he says, “I’m also thinking of getting a tattoo” and that has a double meaning. First, we’re talking about (at that point) less than two decades away from Auschwitz, right? A tattoo on a Jew means something very different. The other is in the orthodox Jewish tradition, or in the priestly Cohenim tradition—because the Cohens are the priestly tribe—tattoos are forbidden. If you have a tattoo, you cannot be buried in a Jewish cemetery, right? So, whoa, he’s just throwing these little bombs at her, figuring she has no idea. Most people don’t have an idea what he’s saying in such a simple line. And then, of course, she says, “Where are you going to get the tattoo?” and he says, “Over on York Street.” [Laughter.] </p><p>Goldfine: Because he’s always one step ahead of her. But, again, I thank Rabbi Finley so much for unpacking that scene for us because it might have made it into the film without that, but—having Rabbi Finley explain in this very beautiful, graceful way about what it really meant to Leonard to say he wanted to change his name to September—it allowed us to use that scene in all its comic but rich context. </p><p> <b>Guillén: You had to negotiate a difficult transition when you began to talk about Jeff Buckley reintroducing “Hallelujah”. As I was watching the film and the focus shifted to Buckley, I winced because—I have to be very honest—I never cared for Jeff Buckley or his cover of “Hallelujah”. It never did anything for me. I never liked his version of the song.</b></p><p><b> </b>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/y8AWFf7EAc4" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>Goldfine: So did you agree with him when he said he hoped Leonard would never hear it?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well, I thought he was being a bit precious.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: No, I think he was right. He was actually quite humble.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: But, truthfully, how could Leonard <i>not</i> hear it?</b> </p><p>Geller: Right. I think he was just saying he <i>hoped</i> Leonard would never hear it. When he finally fessed up and said, “It sounds like a boy singing it”, there’s truth. I think he knows <i>vis a vis</i> Leonard at that stage in the early 1990s that it would be hard to measure up. Musically, it’s gorgeous.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: As your documentary points out, and as is well known, Buckley’s version is how most people know this song; but, when the documentary started going off on this, I thought, “Oh-oh. Is that <i>all</i> for Leonard? Because I’m not done with Leonard! I want Leonard.” I thought the way you paced and abbreviated the focus on Buckley was masterfully edited. You offered just enough Buckley that I actually felt for him this time around and actually appreciated what he had done with the song.</b> </p><p>Geller: Good.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The headline of his drowning in the river was tragic, and it made me wonder if this song would have become what it became had that not happened? There’s a mystery touched upon in your documentary about that song. “Hallelujah” is going to become a traditional, as I mentioned before when talking about “Wayfaring Stranger”, which is already 300 years old. “Hallelujah” is going to become a traditional sung 300 years down the line, 400 years down the line, people are still going to be singing this song.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Both <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clive_Davis" target="new">Clive Davis</a> and Rufus—actually, almost every single artist that we interviewed—said that if it’s not part of the Great American Songbook, it will be. </p><p>But the one thing I wanted to say about Jeff was that was the hardest section—not so much to edit as a sequence—but to figure out how much to go there and when to cut back. The very first version of the Jeff Buckley “chapter” of the film (if you will), was twice as long. We had to find a way to pare it back. </p><p>Geller: Bit by bit by bit. </p><p> Goldfine: It took a long time to get it to be the right balance.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I often feel that editing is not given the due it deserves. It is the hard part of making a film, especially when you’ve gained access to so much information. After the Buckley chapter, as you phrased it, the documentary then explores the popularization of the song via <i>“American Idol”</i> and <i>Shrek</i>, which admittedly began to make me feel a little bit uncomfortable because of the dangers associated with the commodification of a song. It’s like all the conflicted feelings I have about the commodification of Frida Kahlo.</b> </p><p>Geller: Commemorative mugs!
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Refrigerator magnets! But then—again, quite skillfully—you brought it back to Leonard and how <i>he</i> did the song, showing what the song really <i>was</i>.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Thank you. </p><p>Geller: We had the let the air out of the balloon a bit because—after blowing it up like that with the <i>“American Idol”</i> sequence—we had to let the air out carefully so that you don’t feel a sudden disjuncture and could be let down from that manic crazy moment when the song is at number 1, 2 and 36 on the U.K. charts. There were some corners to turn that we weren’t immediately successful at first, but we kept at it. </p><p>Goldfine: Thank God somebody interviewed Leonard right at that moment in 2007 or so when the song was in three places on the charts. I love that he says, “Maybe people should stop singing it for a while” and he has this little smile on his face. Ratso says he was kidding. Who knows? Other critics have said he <i>told </i>people not to sing it anymore. </p><p>Geller: You’ve brought up something, Michael. When we make our films, we hope that they last for a while and some of them have lasted for decades now, which is great, but I hadn’t thought until you just mentioned it that the song is likely to become a standard and that might give a chance to this movie to be a resource for people for however many years down the line if they’re curious about this song that is a standard, a portrait of how it came to be, and the man who made it. That just made my day thinking, “Maybe this film might last for a good long while.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And there’s value to <i>that</i>. I’m just about to hit 70 and I think, this guy, this song, has been in my life since I was a teenager. His poetry helped me through my early love affairs. His poetry told me what a love affair was supposed to be, or what a poetic life was supposed to be, so that when I first visited Manhattan, I had to stay in the Chelsea Hotel, and when I had the chance to meet Joni Mitchell after a concert in Memphis, I lingered at the stage door to meet her. In other words, his has been a longbody influence. What is speaking to me now—that you have so elegantly portrayed in your documentary—is that Leonard Cohen, ever since he was a young man, wanted to be an <i>elder</i>.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: Isn’t that unbelievable?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And approaching 70, I too long to be an elder in the full and resonant meaning of the word.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: I don’t know if it’s ever chic to say that you want to be an elder, but for him to say it in 1974, at the age of 40, in a conversation with Ratso Sloman….
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And perhaps he shouldn’t have said it at 40?</b> </p><p> Goldfine: Why not?!
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Because he wasn’t an elder.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: No, he wasn’t saying he <i>was</i> an elder. He said, “I would love to <i>become</i> an elder. I hope I have the good fortune to be able to become an elder.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Okay, that I accept. And it tracks with what I’m currently feeling. I tell myself, “You made it through AIDS. You made it through Trump….”</b> </p><p>Geller: [Laughter.] You’re <i>still</i> making it through Trump!!
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Right. We just had that horrible incident of the <a href="ttps://www.npr.org/2022/06/14/1104881726/police-in-idaho-arrested-dozens-of-patriot-front-members-near-a-pride-event" target="new">men arrested in northern Idaho</a> who were on their way to a gay rally to cause horrible damage and I think, “Another near miss.” But what Cohen keeps giving me and making me think—specifically through what your documentary presents to your audience—is, “Look how <i>elegant</i> he is. Look how <i>humble</i> he is. Look how <i>loving</i> he is. Everyone who collaborates with him, who works with him, loves him.” </b></p><p><b>So, first, as a young man he taught how to have a love affair and now he’s teaching me how to be an elder, how to be gracious to the young. What’s holy about his graciousness is what the Native Americans would call the longbody. When he was young, it was as if he was already old. And when he was old, he related to the young. That holiness is what I believe people respond to in Leonard Cohen. It’s a palpable, physical, visceral response to his writing and his music and the experiential arc of his life, which served to create “Hallelujah”. I can’t get that song out of my mind since watching your film. I’ve been singing it under my breath for about 69 hours now. [Laughter.] And I don’t even know all the lyrics so I keep singing the same incomplete phrases over and over!</b> </p><p>Goldfine: When the film played at the Beacon on Sunday night, there was a mini-concert afterwards and the concert promoter set up who was going to be in it. There was <a href="http://www.judycollins.com/" target="new">Judy Collins</a>—that was an obvious choice—so that when the curtain came up after the film she sang “Suzanne” and then it was Sharon Robinson, Amanda Shires, and then this promoter goes, “Trust me, be open-hearted about this, I think this guy named Daniel Seavey who’s in a boy band and who came to fame singing ‘Hallelujah’ on <i>‘American Idol’</i> should sing ‘Hallelujah’ at the end of this show.” I can’t speak for Dan but I was like, “You’re going to have someone come out and actually sing ‘Hallelujah’ after this film’s over?!” Daniel came out—he’s like 22, 24 years old—and he hit it out of the park. He brought the house down. He made that song his own.</p><p> <iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zUPr7DeV80s" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: That’s <i>it</i>! That’s what I’m approaching when I talk about the cover, or when I talk about traditionals, what I’m trying to say to my young musician friends in Boise, “It’s not really about <i>you</i>. It’s not about how <i>you’re</i> going to interpret the song. It’s not about how <i>you’re</i> going to phrase it, or pace it. That’s not what the true value of a cover is. It’s that the song is <i>holy</i>. It covers time. It’s <i>about</i> time. You’re the steward. You’re a speck of time in the life of the song. And don’t you want to be a part of it? That’s where ‘you’ come in. That’s where—when you match the holiness of the song—you <i>own</i> it and it becomes <i>yours</i> as it becomes anyone’s who willingly serves as the steward to the holiness of the song.” </b></p><p><b>I’m so grateful that you chose with this film to focus on such a powerful song. But I was surprised when I reviewed your press notes that you claimed to have never done any film about music. What about <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0436095/reference/" target="new"><i>Ballets Russe</i> (2005)</a>?</b> </p><p>Geller: Well, there was music in that but I wouldn’t say it was a movie that was examining music in and of itself. </p><p>Goldfine: Early on, when we were just starting to toy with this idea, we were fortunate enough to be on a festival jury with <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morgan_Neville" target="new">Morgan Neville</a> who’s made a lot of music docs….
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: <i>Good</i> ones!</b> </p><p>Goldfine: <i>Really</i> good ones. He’s a great filmmaker. We pitched this idea and he offered to come on as a DP and that gave us some street cred because—even though we thought we could make a music doc based on our past work—the world didn’t necessarily agree that we could. </p><p>Geller: It just opened more doors. His participation was a validation. By Morgan Neville saying that these filmmakers have the chops to do something like this, for people in the music world who might not have been familiar with us, it helped. People in the dance world know who we are. People in the art world know who we are. But we were entering a new terrain.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And I believe it’s becoming an increasingly popular genre, largely because of my generation, our generations, people are more interested in what influenced us in our youth? Here I am now, pushing 70, what made me who I am now that I can look at these foothills dusted with snow and have a poetic, aesthetic arrest? It was music. Music helped me become myself and continues to do so through every year I’m alive. What songs mattered to me? What songs matter to me now? </b></p><p><b>I’ve been saying for years that as I grow older my films of choice are documentaries. They’re the most interesting stories because they’re real stories.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: You can’t make up anything better.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Right. </b></p><p><b>And I think people are more interested now in the musicians, the artists, the art of crafting songs, and your documentary is attractive for providing the fulcrum of one song to shed light on the man who wrote the song and on the art of songwriting itself.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: It definitely allowed us to narrow and hone in on one aspect of Cohen’s artistry. In some ways it’s a revisionist history because so many people have idolized the Marianne-Leonard relationship but I feel our film is saying, “That was one thing, but, you know, there was Dominique.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And though you use “Hallelujah” as a fulcrum to leverage insight, your film is not just about “Hallelujah”. You sample many of Cohen’s songs.</b> </p><p>Geller: There are 22 of his songs in the film.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Which was a great relief because I was concerned that you were just going to keep playing “Hallelujah” over and over again until I would go crazy and have to rush out into the lobby to stuff popcorn into my ears.</b> </p><p>Goldfine: We didn’t know we were going to do 22 other songs, but we also weren’t completely upfront with Robert Corey, the head of the Cohen estate, who said, “If I would have known eight years ago that you were going to talk about 22 other songs, I don’t know if Leonard or I would have allowed you to do this project.” </p><p>Geller: But we didn’t know when we approached it! But as we started playing with it, to understand “Hallelujah”, you need to know “Who By Fire”. To know “Who By Fire”, it would help to know a little bit on the other side, like “Don’t Go Home With Your Hard-On”, just to see the different elements of Leonard. Then, because the film does extend to late in his life, “Tower of Song” becomes important. It’s all about mortality, and aging, and where you are in that tower. Bit by bit we began to get further into debt. [Laughter.] </p><p><b>ENDNOTES</b> </p><p>(1) Alan Light, “Broken Tablets”, <i>MOJO</i> (January 2020, pp. 70-71). </p><p>(2) <i>Wikipedia</i> entry on “Hallelujah”, accessed August 5, 2022: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hallelujah_(Leonard_Cohen_song) </p><p>(3) <i>Wikipedia</i> entry on <i>Various Positions</i>, accessed August 5, 2022: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hallelujah_(Leonard_Cohen_song)
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-32674821833176125582022-07-18T15:40:00.006-07:002022-07-18T16:24:23.608-07:00OUTFEST 40 / FRAMELINE 46: UNIDENTIFIED OBJECTS (2022)—THE EVENING CLASS INTERVIEW WITH JUAN-FELIPE ZULETA<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBXHZBlFq-StcpCUdxnuFHh8KrCaivj4O2jH4USh3vd8igY_l3stUzk650WvtJ7CLEMiWU2tb7flk_bJV8-uuvTQiJLAr-z7U8g2l0v2qIaAP_n6eMfYRGUeagQUmgi4rARTEKy0Fr1Bs7ZTuFkoEQ6F_VNcIOmlrS6Mwvd6-VH0LFOK7BQ/s1316/Photo%20by%20Corey%20Nickols:Getty%20Images%20for%20IMDb%20-%20%C2%A9%202022%20Corey%20Nickols%20-%20Image%20courtesy%20gettyimages.com.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1316" data-original-width="1090" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBXHZBlFq-StcpCUdxnuFHh8KrCaivj4O2jH4USh3vd8igY_l3stUzk650WvtJ7CLEMiWU2tb7flk_bJV8-uuvTQiJLAr-z7U8g2l0v2qIaAP_n6eMfYRGUeagQUmgi4rARTEKy0Fr1Bs7ZTuFkoEQ6F_VNcIOmlrS6Mwvd6-VH0LFOK7BQ/w331-h400/Photo%20by%20Corey%20Nickols:Getty%20Images%20for%20IMDb%20-%20%C2%A9%202022%20Corey%20Nickols%20-%20Image%20courtesy%20gettyimages.com.png" width="331" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo: © 2022 Corey Nickols, courtesy gettyimages.com</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p>Whereas one is an acknowledged auteur’s megaplex arthouse horror confidently boasting a first-tier cast, and the other a modestly-produced independent first feature with relatively unknown actors gamely trafficking niche festivals, there are thematic resemblances and effective similarities between David Cronenberg’s 45th film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt14549466/reference/" target="new"><b><i>Crimes of the Future</i> (2022)</b></a> and Juan-Felipe Zuleta’s first feature film <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt12850216/reference/" target="new"><b><i>Unidentified Objects</i> (2022)</b></a>. That says and promises a lot for Zuleta’s next forty-four. </p><p>Both films address near-future demographic ruptures that target maligned minorities disfavored by a majority populace; a social stratification that is near <i>de rigueur</i> for dystopian sci-fi narratives, where the power struggles between hierarchies determine access to an increasingly limited trough. Cronenberg’s social outcasts are “plastic eaters”—individuals able to survive on the refuse of a polluted and compromised world—and Zuleta’s are small gay people, namely one small gay person, Peter (bitterly portrayed by <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm7780133/?ref_=tt_rv_t1" target="new">Matthew August Jeffers</a>), who is able to survive the state-sponsored indignities of physical non-conformity. Embodying what “normal” people fear as unknown, the subjects of both narratives seek to redress and subvert the ways in which ruling political forces alienate and marginalize and frequently eliminate physical “types” who do not support their governing hegemony. It’s suggested in both films that self-acceptance is requisite for social acceptance. Self-acceptance is the cornerstone to resistance. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqMu0nAOy5Rf0EtKBumUGUsmhCvtVoJCLgDm_REy6U0GCtOiPkGATSpcewsqaD6VIDCS-tBXit5X7WAzxHWQEIuTB0q1gqJij3_7w2DlPZWeyXjdmuA4EZ11xR3PI9YQuq8cr_qWn_ir38xUh-QoEYTJ71PoHwhk9nL39MbY-m2KmGF5eeQ/s625/@_Unidentified%20Objects_poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="625" data-original-width="441" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieqMu0nAOy5Rf0EtKBumUGUsmhCvtVoJCLgDm_REy6U0GCtOiPkGATSpcewsqaD6VIDCS-tBXit5X7WAzxHWQEIuTB0q1gqJij3_7w2DlPZWeyXjdmuA4EZ11xR3PI9YQuq8cr_qWn_ir38xUh-QoEYTJ71PoHwhk9nL39MbY-m2KmGF5eeQ/w283-h400/@_Unidentified%20Objects_poster.jpg" width="283" /></a></div><p><b><i>Unidentified Objects</i></b> recently had a one-off U.S. premiere screening at the 46th edition of San Francisco’s <a href="https://www.frameline.org/films/frameline46/unidentified-objects" target="new">Frameline Film Festival</a>, where it won an Honorable Mention for Outstanding First Feature. <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> is currently situated as the Platinum U.S. Centerpiece for the 40th edition of <a href="https://outfestla2022.eventive.org/films/unidentified-objects-62a3b498ba31c900d1275abd" target="new">Outfest</a>, venued in Los Angeles. That centerpiece screening is on Wednesday, July 20, 2022, and <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> continues on to contribute to Outfest’s structured hybridity by being available for remote streaming from Thursday, July 21, 2022 through Saturday, July 23, 2022. </p><p>As synopized at Outfest: “Peter, a self-described ‘college-educated, homosexual dwarf,’ keeps to himself in his apartment as he reels from the recent loss of his closest friend. His solitary existence is up-ended when his quirky neighbor Winona shows up at his door with a favor to ask: she’d like to borrow his car so she can drive to the remote Canadian field where aliens are due to beam her aboard their spaceship. </p><p>“Led by a sensational pair of performances from Matthew Jeffers (TV’s <i><b>New Amsterdam</b></i>) and <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4188769/?ref_=tt_rv_t0" target="new">Sarah Hay</a>, this disarming and wholly original take on the roadtrip comedy finds its charm and its power in spotlighting characters who rarely get the lead roles. Directed with a fabulous visual flair by first-time feature helmer Juan-Felipe Zuleta, this film demonstrates the thrilling rewards of watching previously sidelined characters take center stage.” </p><p>My thanks to publicist Matthew Johnstone who provided access to <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> during its Frameline premiere and then facilitated a Zoom conversation with its director Juan-Felipe Zuleta. Long an avid fan of Latin American cinema, I’ve had welcome opportunity to interview Colombian filmmakers over the years, including (most recently) <a href="https://www.cineaste.com/spring2016/embrace-of-the-serpent-ciro-guerra" target="new">Ciro Guerra</a> and <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2018/01/colombian-cinema-todo-comienzo-por-el.html" target="new">Luis Ospina</a>. Thus, it was with sincere pleasure that I was fortunate enough to speak with one of Colombia’s youngest up-and-coming filmmakers, Juan-Felipe Zuleta (now, officially, Colombian American). </p><p style="text-align: center;">* * *
<b> </b></p><p><b>Michael Guillén: Have you been able to take advantage of the film incentives provided by <a href="https://www.bizlatinhub.com/film-laws-support-growth-colombia-film-industry/" target="new">Colombia’s recent movies law</a>, passed (I believe) in 2003, 2004?</b> </p><p>Juan-Felipe Zuleta: I apply every year. I haven’t won it yet so it hasn’t helped me; but, it has helped a lot of filmmakers in Colombia. It <i>is</i> competitive. Some people get really lucky. Some movies—like Ciro Guerra’s—are not seen anywhere; but, I think it’s the best thing that has happened for film culture in Colombia. Like I said, I apply every year with a project. I think the project that I have submitted for the last couple of years—one that <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm4904273/?ref_=tt_ov_wr" target="new">Lee [Frankel]</a> and I wrote—it might be a little too commercial? I don’t know. You never know because they change judges every year. It’s not like in Canada or some European countries where everybody gets it. In Colombia, especially for first-time filmmakers, they give one prize for $150,000.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well, you’ll probably win it when you least expect it.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Yes!! And, listen, I’m very persistent. I never stop applying.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Good, good.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: I have another movie that I want to make, in Spanish, called <i><b>We Were Born Dead</b></i> (in English) or <b><i>Nacimos Muertos</i></b> (in Spanish). Hopefully, we can use some of the funds from that law for that, or some of the other laws that Colombia has like the 1556 law that’s for foreign investors. There’s one where the government just gives you money to make a movie and part of the extension of that law is—if you bring in foreign investors—there are tax breaks, something like 40% tax breaks for foreign investment.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: That’s a particularly interesting development for Colombia’s film industry. Thai director Apichatpong Weerasethakul recently made a film in Colombia, <a href="https://memoriathefilm.com/" target="new"><i>Memoria</i> (2021)</a>, starring Tilda Swinton, which I considered a fascinating development. </b></p><p><b>But let’s focus on <i>your</i> movie, <i>your</i> first feature, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt12850216/" target="new"><i>Unidentified Objects</i> (2022)</a>, which is having its U.S. premiere at the 46th edition of the Frameline Film Festival. Let’s hit the title first. You’re playing very skillfully and intriguingly with a blend of the sci-fi genre and gender politics, as insinuated by your title.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Yes. The title <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> was one of the first things that came to be when Lee and I knew we wanted to make this movie. Lee and I are longtime collaborators. We work every day on screenwriting, back and forth with ideas, so when you talk about “gender politics”, I think the film is <i>beyond</i> gender politics. The film was written during the Trump administration. I’m an immigrant to the United States….
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I misspoke. I meant to say <i>identity</i> politics.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: <i>Identity</i> politics, yes, that’s more like it. When I got to the United States for the first time, I had a visa. I’m a citizen now—that’s a long story—but, originally I was assigned an alien number. That’s how my passport was called. That’s how my green card was called. I had an <i>alien</i> number. “You don’t belong here. You’re an <i>alien</i>.” </p><p>In many ways it goes back to that sense of who belongs, who doesn’t belong, who’s identified, who’s unidentified? Who are the people who are like everybody else? Who are those who aren’t? That sense runs through every topic that’s controversial. You can talk about artificial intelligence. You can talk about the gay rights movement and all of that. You can talk about immigration policy. You can talk about professions like church workers, <i>etc.</i>, right? You can go deep into many many topics. So <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> is a perfect title. In fact, it’s my <i>favorite</i> title.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: [Laughing]. Well, that’s a good thing since it’s your film’s title.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: It’s really hard to find a good movie title. It’s much harder than anybody thinks. “What should my movie be called?” But this one was easy.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: One thing you’ve done masterfully in broaching the subject of aliens, or alien rights, or alien identities, off-Earth and on, is that you’ve situated the subject within a liminal space through a liminal perspective. It interests me that you’re playing with this liminality, and that you have aligned that effort with your own experience of being an immigrant into the United States. You’re allowing this liminality to filter out to any identity that people in your audience might identify with in your movie.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Yes! It’s a liminal space across the board, but it’s a liminal space about a road trip movie where you are literally crossing a border, right?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Your characters cross from the United States into Canada.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Liminal space to the degree of subjective storytelling where we’re trying to understand where these characters are coming from and there’s something about humanity, about “what are my thoughts? Or my feelings and the way I feel?” That does not necessarily mean that you feel that way, right? It’s very subjective. Everybody has a very specific experience in the way they inhabit the world. Everybody, <i>everybody</i>, no matter if you’re within the same people in the same…—what I would call “circles within circles”—even people who are in the LGBTQ community, and even within that the gay community, and even within that, everybody has their own experience. </p><p>When you take a character like Peter [Matthew Jeffers] who is an academic and a scholar who cares about literature, who cares about words and culture, about Anton Chekhov—one of the greatest Russian authors—but, he’s also a little person, and his is a gay experience of a little person in society that is very particular and unique, right? That hasn’t been explored in cinema in a way that I, at least, think is interesting. And yet we’ve seen interesting little people performers. We know there’s a lot of talent. There’s a huge talent pool of actors in that community, <i>per se</i>.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwB33hEqONEYdJMxJ6xZYRhOqa-GaLDzs0j7VYs2zNeTj0zC9CF4ClPc8tYFmgn4v41_uJ9q_F5BnmRf0drSiQcu_fPF1yiLZGvxvWJlNAPha9Ij6_P0-TPt6HmRPWNOXIyBu5R_HAnKnTsP-SJoDXz7rZxoh5GpuPdU__kXCtBhBmBshgAQ/s1600/@_unidentified%20objects_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwB33hEqONEYdJMxJ6xZYRhOqa-GaLDzs0j7VYs2zNeTj0zC9CF4ClPc8tYFmgn4v41_uJ9q_F5BnmRf0drSiQcu_fPF1yiLZGvxvWJlNAPha9Ij6_P0-TPt6HmRPWNOXIyBu5R_HAnKnTsP-SJoDXz7rZxoh5GpuPdU__kXCtBhBmBshgAQ/w400-h225/@_unidentified%20objects_02.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: Yes, but what you’ve done differently in your presentation of a central performance by a little person actor is you’ve explored the fantasies and articulated the fears and frustrations of little people in—as you have phrased it—a “circles within circles” specificity. We’ve seen representations of little people in cinematic narratives—Peter Dinklage, for example, in his various performances in movies and television—but, you have complicated that representation through a gay lens, which I find interesting, particularly in Peter’s fantasies; fantasies I would say that are driven by a <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2007/01/inland-empirethe-san-rafael-film.html" target="new">“Lynchian imperative.”</a> </b><p></p><p><b>Peter’s fantasies are neither prefaced nor explained. They arise out of an experience the audience believes they are participating in, which gradually, if unexpectedly, morphs into something other than the experience the audience thought they were having. There’s an oneiric pivot that distinguishes the experience on the screen as either a dream or a fantasy.
Which leads me to the ambiguities you have purposely folded into your narrative. These ambiguities—as strangely as they are introduced—reveal emotional truths. Can you talk to me a little bit about that?</b> </p><p>Zuleta: I’m a firm believer that storytelling—especially in cinema—is not about being literal. It’s not about being in-your-face obvious. That’s what a <i>telenovela</i>, or certain stories are. They’re telling you, “I feel <i>this</i> way”, right? What I love about storytelling, especially visual storytelling, and the capabilities you can do with visual and audio-visual storytelling is precisely what you are saying: we can really go deep into the psyche of a human being. We can dive into their reality and their experience of the world. If it’s done well through sound, through images, we can create a deeper meaning that hasn’t been done or that is not part of our real specific experience.
That’s why some people will say, “Oh, this is like a fantasy film.” I do think there’s something about surreality, meaning, what is that? It’s exploring a world that’s both….
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well, you defined surreality in your press notes as “the imaginary meeting the irrational.”</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Exactly! I speak about surreality being the imaginary meeting the irrational and, in many ways, that’s like there’s so much meaning. If you look at a Luis Buñuel movie, or a David Lynch movie—I’m talking about directors that I like—you can go and point at a certain scene and say, “That scene is making me feel a certain way inside. It’s making me feel weird. It’s making me feel emotional.” And yet for some people it’s like having their pants pulled down in a toilet. It’s like their reaction is something different. When I talk about visual storytelling it’s mainly about diving into that world. It’s about how can we create an experience visually that, again, could be fantasy, could be reality? That’s where ambiguity comes in for me. My favorite stories are the ones that make the audience be part of the experience. That make you start questioning, “What is happening?” </p><p>For example, audiences—especially audiences that I like—they like to play detective. They try to be ahead of you. They like to anticipate what’s going to happen or try to have an explanation to what you’re showing them. <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> is in many ways designed by those surreal sequences that you’re talking about through which we can give a lot of substance. If you study it, if you watch it multiple times, every viewing is going to be different. With every viewing you could probably come up with a different conclusion to what we’re trying to say. Yet, as you said, the one thing that is always there is the emotion. </p><p>People have said that this movie are pill trips. That this is just Peter dreaming everything because he’s taking pills. One of the first things you see the main character do is take pills. Sure, that’s an interesting interpretation of the movie, but that’s where the ambiguity takes place. It’s like the ending of the movie <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1392214/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="new"><b><i>Prisoners</i> (2013)</b></a> where Jake Gyllenhaal is standing outside of a house where, we as the audience, know that Hugh Jackman is buried underneath. We know that he’s screaming and blowing a whistle but Jake Gyllenhaal is not listening. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but we do. The movie ends there. You’re left thinking, “Oh my God, is he going to unbury him? Is he going to save him? Is he going to die?” That’s maybe a literal way to look at it, but I can get very passionate about it….
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: [Chuckling.] Yes, clearly. <i>As can I.</i> I interpret what you’re doing with the liminality in a slightly different perspective. I’m well-trained in psychology and mythology. What I understand to be the first liminal spirits, the first threshold spirits (if not the first psychotherapists), were in ancient Mesopotamian mythology in the Sumerian descent myth of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inanna" target="new">Inanna</a>. In that myth Inanna goes down into the Underworld where her sister Ereshkigal rules. Ereshkigal is a miserable queen who doesn’t enjoy reigning over the dark underworld. In her mean-heartedness, she kills her sister Inanna and hangs her corpse on a hook. But Inanna, suspecting her sister might do just that, had previously arranged to be rescued if no one had heard from her in three days. </b></p><p><b>The Sumerian god Enki, deeply troubled by what has happened to Inanna, attempts to help her by creating two sexless figures named <i>gala-tura</i> and the <i>kur-jara</i> from the dirt under the fingernails of two of his fingers. He instructs these two sprites to appease Ereshkigal and retrieve the corpse of Inanna.
In some versions of this story these two sprites take up residence in the threshold of Ereshkigal’s bedroom where, listening to Ereshkigal’s bitter complaints about her pain and discomfort, they repeat her complaints back to her. “Oh,” Ereshkigal complains, “my hip hurts.” “Oh,” the sprites repeat, “your hip hurts.” “Oh,” Ereshkigal complains, “my back hurts.” “Oh,” the sprites echo, “your back hurts”, thereby confirming Ereshkigal’s misery, placating her and appeasing her so that she hands the corpse of Inanna over to the two sprites to take out of the Underworld where—through magic rituals—Enki is able to revive her. </b></p><p><b>As I understand and interpet it, the function of these liminal spirits is to repeat to you your psychology; to help you articulate it. That’s what I believe you have done with this film, specifically through the surreal fantasy sequences. Representing liminality, giving it a voice, helps us to identify and understand it in ourselves. </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6d6Km_0foWytM5x5pNPryfpwJ2dIojfd9_jVFlaXk1vsIz8aLeoyNUFlIDIcrxl70jrN8ZLc2PTNpHSIyw-3S_Ce_V5oGfLkDvR5hWNCByzAjB0tupFlGghzmpHMEWQBplLsGxBjZHaLbFuYoRFaBaQCmqApjKTpQCqoK9JocTsFJzpOxOA/s1600/@_unidentified%20objects_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6d6Km_0foWytM5x5pNPryfpwJ2dIojfd9_jVFlaXk1vsIz8aLeoyNUFlIDIcrxl70jrN8ZLc2PTNpHSIyw-3S_Ce_V5oGfLkDvR5hWNCByzAjB0tupFlGghzmpHMEWQBplLsGxBjZHaLbFuYoRFaBaQCmqApjKTpQCqoK9JocTsFJzpOxOA/w400-h225/@_unidentified%20objects_04.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b>Most notably, the scene in the film where Peter fantasizes on dancing with the tall, handsome man in the bar dove right into my heart because I have been coming out of a failed love affair and, I have to say, I watched that scene and knew that <i>I </i>was Peter. Which is to say that <i>his</i> emotional truth was <i>my</i> emotional truth. I was that <i>small</i>. I was dancing with someone that tall. Someone that handsome. Someone that masculine. I watched that scene and thought, “Wait a minute. How can I be <i>this</i>? I’m <i>not</i> small.” But I <i>was</i>. </b><p></p><p><b>In effect, your film performs this function. I hurt from a failed love affair. Your film is saying, “You hurt from a failed love affair.”</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Yes, that’s 100%! In many ways, <i>I</i> feel a lot of the scenes. I think the bar scene plays really well, specifically in the disability and the LGBTQ communities because there’s an extra layer. If you’re a little person and you want to approach somebody in a bar or if you’re someone from the LGBTQ community and you want to go up to someone and tell them what you feel, there’s an extra layer. “Are we in the same world?” </p><p>You’ve used the word “threshold”, which is the name of my production company. My production company is named First Threshold.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I didn’t know that!</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Yes, my production company is called First Threshold precisely because it’s that crossing, that moment when you go and you’re living within, you’re living in all spaces, that in many ways is that moment of transition. But I love what you’re saying. That bar scene, for example, is very universal.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: This is where I have to tip my hat to Matthew’s performance because what launches the emotional truth of those scenes is that moment—the beats you give him—to be incredulous. Like when the guy turns to him and says, “Would you like to dance with me?” The look on Matthew’s face of incredulity makes you feel, “No, this is impossible. It can’t be happening.” Then you see it happening and then it devolves into the repetition that tells you, “Oh, this is <i>oneiric</i>. This is something surreal. Irreal.” I have to commend your directorial timing and Matthew’s chops in following your lead. </b></p><p><b>Also, the sequence of being pulled over by the police, hearing the voice of the cop and his bizarre instructions, was likewise delightful because—not only was it a gay fantasy—it was a sci-fi fantasy. Which poses the question: can you speak to why you used the sci-fi genre as a metaphor to orient your message?</b> </p><p>Zuleta: I’m that fond of the genre. I love science fiction and what it represents in culture. I love these movies. If you watch Guillermo del Toro telling a story about an alien that’s with a deaf woman in the 1950s and you buy it, you cry in the theater. Science fiction is one of those genres that is, in many ways, like subcultures, like the many ways that people think about Marvel movies. It crosses boundaries. It crosses belief systems. You can talk about politics. In <b>1984</b>, Orwell wrote a novel about the oppressive politics of a totalitarian regime. That’s why period piece movies exist. They give you permission to talk about today without talking about today in your face. I’m a fan of science fiction. I love science fiction. </p><p>People ask me if <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> is a commercial movie? Is it a personal movie? The point is that we made the movie that we wanted to make. We just made something that we would want to see and feel and hear. I love Isaac Asimov movies and his arguments about artificial intelligence, talking about identity, which is interesting because you can create huge metaphors about humanity, about identity, about belonging, about asking, “Am I real?”
In that scene with the cop, we took science fiction and pushed it through surreal storytelling, and through fantasy. It’s a merger of genres. People also call <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> a dark comedy, because it is funny, even though it’s a tragic story. </p><p>It’s funny that you mention that scene with the cop because it shows that I am a collaborator. Originally, in the first draft of the script, we didn’t want the character Peter (<i>i.e.</i>, the actor Matthew) to be naked. Matthew and I had a deep conversation about that, about what that scene meant. In that scene the cop commands Peter and questions his humanity, right? That’s the purpose of that scene being there—<i>"Are you human? Are you an unidentified object?”</i>—that’s the premise. You can feel all that there. </p><p>In cinema, when you see male genitals it’s considered not necessary because society hasn’t caught up yet. Matthew was the one who told me, “I have to be naked. I need to be how I came into the world. I think that’s how Peter feels in that moment and we need to be true to the character and true to the story.” I agreed with him, but I said, “Listen, it’s your decision. I’m not going to ask you on a low-budget movie to be naked on screen; but, we are taking this very seriously and I agree with you. He has to be naked. It’s going to make a difference if we want to make the impact that we want to make.” So, yes, to our audience, to your readers, whoever listens to this or reads this, we do have a scene of a little person where he is completely naked and he’s been stripped down by a cop who is questioning his humanity. In many ways, that’s the premise of that scene. So, yes, we have to take it to that surreal level where the audience crosses a threshold.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGoU-hPrkfITA42VnA-xpYmbB7b6QXUp0HGY0w6m33LduV3Zjj9CE03Ad2ARjpvgvDoj9Pk88ga8wb893ZJ-SOuBL91OFtkz9Pe06Mi98XS36j6qmlYy9iUabWaA5fwMFUlCgObUcAYm1vGLunPjF7ytjltBHP1NBXbhmmoImip7zso_N7Q/s1600/@_unidentified%20objects_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPGoU-hPrkfITA42VnA-xpYmbB7b6QXUp0HGY0w6m33LduV3Zjj9CE03Ad2ARjpvgvDoj9Pk88ga8wb893ZJ-SOuBL91OFtkz9Pe06Mi98XS36j6qmlYy9iUabWaA5fwMFUlCgObUcAYm1vGLunPjF7ytjltBHP1NBXbhmmoImip7zso_N7Q/w400-h225/@_unidentified%20objects_01.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: Further, this is a nuanced version of the sci-fi genre because what you are talking about—especially with regard to identity politics—is a <i>near-future</i>. This is something that we’re <i>in</i>, but also nearing. We have transgender issues, Latino issues, all sorts of minority issues of people coming into their own, gaining agency, but still chafing against law enforcement or cultural enforcement that are not yet fully recognizing them, that are seeing them—as you suggest—as unidentified objects. I don’t know if you intended to do that, but I have to commend you for utilizing this subtle sci-fi approach to visualize and politicize a near future.</b> <p></p><p>Zuleta: The answer is yes. These are the themes of science fiction when you are talking about the near-future of politics and the norms of society. Yes, that’s what science fiction does and is always commenting upon. In many ways, as I was saying before, we use genres and combine genres so that we can comment upon these themes. </p><p>Returning to the subject of exposing male genitals, you do have to think from a storytelling perspective, especially as a director, if it works. If it works, if it’s necessary, that’s where you have to judge. Is it something that you’re doing for an emotional impact? You have to think about why you’re doing it. Our conclusions were that it was something we needed to talk about. In many ways, the script was re-written when Matthew came on board as an actor because it was a little person movie as well. He was giving us permission to tell his story and the experience of a little person in the world. So I had to take that into consideration. It wasn’t just me being a director. It was me taking into consideration the characters and the subject matter and really understanding from his perspective, which I had never really seen before, even though Lee and I had conceived of it from the beginning as being a little person’s story. But there are many layers. What is the liminal experience of a little person in the world?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: They’re asking us to wrap up here so my final question might be about what you discovered about your movie while editing it?</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Two things about the editing of the movie. That’s a big big <i>big</i> deal. The biggest thing with a movie like this is that we rewrote some things in the editing room. The biggest thing that changed was that initially we edited the movie in a linear storytelling way. We built the movie with our composer, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3153929/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr20" target="new">Sebastian Zuleta</a>, my brother. From the moment we started filming, we knew we were going to do it with that soundscape, which was analog scenes. We started creating some of those sounds from production. From the moment we were filming, we wanted to know how it felt, how it played, everything. That scape, we used some of that and then it got replaced with original comps. That was a big tool. </p><p>The thing I realized after editing for 16 weeks and when I was close to locking the picture, someone handed me a piece of paper and they told me, “You have to really lean over more into the dream quality of the film and you have to explore non-linear storytelling.” It was really hard to make this decision as a director of a low budget movie because we didn’t have the resources, but I said I’m never going to lock this picture until I truly explore that note because that note <i>touched</i> me. It <i>meant</i> something. So what my friend the French editor <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm3349536/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr22" target="new">Raphael Lubczanski</a> and I did was we went back and revised some of the driving scenes with the music and took down dialogue from other scenes where we had too much dialogue and we explored a version of <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> that was non-linear. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFELKeh1jUDxaBJ55-mOXafK_l5wY8J4UpOcHPvv9zephDaa-878dYnT_htYtC8R5Hiol34do3QtNvMhv5-5xhVkyRjPFi5ZYxqm09mJ_ZFO307CgKsKQ-Q7E1-4XVKqcWz3-W4lrW-yuyEKhqhz1bUaqx245vdbtT0o0EVaFxsboNMyu7og/s1600/@_unidentified%20objects_03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFELKeh1jUDxaBJ55-mOXafK_l5wY8J4UpOcHPvv9zephDaa-878dYnT_htYtC8R5Hiol34do3QtNvMhv5-5xhVkyRjPFi5ZYxqm09mJ_ZFO307CgKsKQ-Q7E1-4XVKqcWz3-W4lrW-yuyEKhqhz1bUaqx245vdbtT0o0EVaFxsboNMyu7og/w400-h225/@_unidentified%20objects_03.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The movie did inhabit this weird dream state, this—as you said—liminal space but we didn’t know what it was. There were things there that were just floating and there were many reasons for that. Partly the aliens, partly the pills, all of these things coming together, but non-linear storytelling was the one variable that we hadn’t originally done. That’s how we came up with the beginning. That happened in the editing. There were other things that we found as we asked ourselves: how do we manage the expectations? How do we manage the ambiguity? How do we maintain the audience on a journey that we’re telling them we’re taking them somewhere? <p></p><p>I edited the movie about 10-15% max. I didn’t change it much. I made small changes. But there was an exploration process in the editing. What I have to say about movie editing is that it is one of the most fundamental things of cinema. Writing a script, you have a blueprint, yeah, but editing is where you can truly <i>innovate</i>. Because we did that, that’s why <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> feels like a bigger movie in many ways. We really spent the time. I don’t know how we found the resources. Me and Raphael just dove into everything we’ve been talking about, making sure we could make it feel the way we wanted to make it feel. That’s what the movie asked of us.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: One little editing flourish I would like to ask after is the caterpillar crawling from underneath the alien hat. Talk to me about that.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: That was a happy accident. At that location there were these caterpillars on the road. I didn’t conceive that image originally. Matthew pointed it out to me. He said, “That’s Peter. He’s a worm trying to cross the road.” I was like, “You’re a <i>genius</i>! We’re going to shoot this right now.”
And then we shot what became the opening shot of the movie at the end of the shooting schedule. I put a dead cockroach next to Peter’s crocs in the opening shot, after we shot the caterpillars. I was using bugs as a metaphor for his character who is a worm, a dead bug, who is a borderline suicide who has to decide whether he wants to die or not. There has been such a metaphorical use of cockroaches who survive the changes in society. They’re still there dwelling, surviving, going through everything, people stepping on them, right? That’s ultimately the theme of <i><b>Unidentified Objects</b></i> in some ways. You know where I’m going with that, right? But the caterpillar was a miracle, it was Matthew’s idea, and we thought, “We got to get it.”
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I want to thank you, Juan Felipe. <i>Unidentified Objects</i> is a beautiful first feature. I’m excited for your Frameline U.S. premiere. I wish I could be there, but I actually live in Idaho and have to return home.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: I wish you could be there too.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Your passion is infectious. I know your Frameline audience is going to enjoy that so much and you’re going to enjoy interacting with them. Thank you, Juan Felipe, I really appreciate your taking the time to talk to me.</b> </p><p>Zuleta: Thank <i>you</i>, Michael. I look forward to staying in touch.
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-50961779879715803112022-07-03T21:30:00.006-07:002022-07-03T22:58:18.997-07:00THE FALL OF ’55—Q&A With Seth Randal for TCC Benefit Screening<p><a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2022/05/boise-contemporary-theater-show-on-roof.html" target="new"><b><i><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF-PS7WgTfMUS9s1iQ6nNoM9bt8n250EtzOkix_p4Qampov_qwFH6AipLRiyVQyq5F4Ut57uc1zIyiUi7nwPsM2USZmM5Uc3AYqTgZRmebd8QfPRzl3hKHEclX_jVX5BKnmQd1yrJjOnVDIr_8IdnA7t94_x5uTnWOkj1buhdtGogOzsolA/s3681/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal_01.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2691" data-original-width="3681" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF-PS7WgTfMUS9s1iQ6nNoM9bt8n250EtzOkix_p4Qampov_qwFH6AipLRiyVQyq5F4Ut57uc1zIyiUi7nwPsM2USZmM5Uc3AYqTgZRmebd8QfPRzl3hKHEclX_jVX5BKnmQd1yrJjOnVDIr_8IdnA7t94_x5uTnWOkj1buhdtGogOzsolA/w400-h293/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal_01.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seth Randal (2022). Photo: Michael Guillén.</td></tr></tbody></table>The Show On the Roof</i> (2022)</b></a>, the musical adaptation of <a href="target=" new="">Seth Randal</a>’s documentary <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0823174/reference/" target="new"><b><i>The Fall of ’55</i> (2006)</b></a>, boasted its world premiere at the Boise Contemporary Theater on April 13, 2022 and ran through May 7, 2022. This anticipated, well-received adaptation afforded the welcome opportunity of a one-off revival screening of <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> to benefit <a href="https://tccidaho.org/" target="new">The Community Center ("TCC")</a> in Boise, Idaho, with director Seth Randal in attendance and yours truly to moderate a post-screening Q&A. </p><p>Seth Randal started his audience out with a synopsis of the making of <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i>, outlining that work began on the documentary in 2000 and finished up in 2006. He worked extensively with <a href="https://scholarworks.boisestate.edu/idlgbtq_oral_histories/29/" target="new">Alan Virta</a>, former archivist at Boise State University, conducting research in Idaho, California, Oregon, Washington D.C., among other places. They dug through historical archives to find material because there weren’t a lot of people who were willing to talk about these events. So, unfortunately, they had to fill in those blanks by finding what people were saying at the time, using archival letters, and obscure newspapers that no longer exist—things like that.
Seth completed the documentary in 2006. He apologized for its being “a little grainy-looking” but he shot for five years on standard definition video (because HD was very expensive). <i><b> </b></i></p><p><i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> had its world premiere at Newfest in New York City, and then went to a number of other festivals around the country. In the intervening years <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> has been used as an educational tool by universities around the world, including the University of Tokyo, Duke, Northwestern, the list is long. </p><p>Seth grew up in Nampa, Idaho and learned about Boise’s homosexuality scandal when he was a teenager. His cousin’s girlfriend mentioned that the scandal was so big in the ‘50s that a book had been written on the incident—<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Gerassi" target="new">John Gerassi</a>’s <b>The Boys of Boise: Furor, Vice and Folly in an American City</b> (1966). He went to the library and—first, looking around to make sure nobody would know which section he was in—Seth pulled the book off the shelf and tried to read it but realized it was dense reading and he wasn’t going to get through it. Instead, he researched old newspapers on microfilm and started looking at old articles.
Even at the age of 17 Seth had in the back of his mind the notion that he would someday do something with his initial research into the scandal. Originally, he considered writing a play or a screenplay. </p><p>As time went on—he was at college studying journalism—Seth came home in October 1995 for his beloved great aunt’s funeral. This proved fortuitous because he discovered in his cousin’s recycling bin an extensive front-page article, which was centerspread for the <i>Idaho Statesman</i> for the 40th anniversary of the Boys of Boise scandal. That article contained the story of Frank Jones and how his life had been destroyed by these events. That’s when Seth recognized the real persons’ angle of this incident. He felt for the lives and families that had been torn apart.
That human angle was absent in Gerassi’s book where, instead, much detail was given to pages and pages of dry deposition hearings. But discovering the <i>Statesman</i>’s commemorative article on the scandal told him that there were human stories to be told.
Later, continuing with his work in journalism, Seth started working on <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> when he was a producer at Channel 6, and finished it when he was a producer at Channel 7. Realizing that writing a play would entail extensive research about what life was like in the 1950s, Seth decided that—if he was going to undergo all that—he might as well make a documentary. That’s how it all came together on a shoestring budget. </p><p>For several years while doing the research, he and Virta kept the project hush hush because they were aware that John Gerassi had received threats for writing <b>The Boys of Boise</b>. His hotel room had been invaded and his records searched through. Fortunately, he had locked his records up in a bus depot locker so they were saved; but, being aware of this incident, Seth also knew there had been a lot of resistance from the community to the 1995 article he had found in the recycling bin, which quoted real people. <b><i>The Fall of ’55</i></b> shows people protesting that the subject was being dredged up again. Randal and Virta encountered similar resistance. A lot of people wouldn’t talk, let alone on camera, so Seth had to fill in the blanks accordingly with the words of actual people in an effort to make it as true to the events as possible. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0SDUgrTabSqJkzPY-PVVDr16ZSxfn6R9uxtFAQv9D8zaPAOgyMVucwPCFajrcyGb9fRKiBHTNMPwDnFbRjx_kUbFmcQRhKRwJJHxhj25NDy8xCcdNUSn1uGjABQJV5aJNr_71sJlqRrzuCj9a5JjFdSn1VVARQNK1HkVqSiXXSISHFOjMw/s3968/@_Howdy%20Pardner.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2360" data-original-width="3968" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0SDUgrTabSqJkzPY-PVVDr16ZSxfn6R9uxtFAQv9D8zaPAOgyMVucwPCFajrcyGb9fRKiBHTNMPwDnFbRjx_kUbFmcQRhKRwJJHxhj25NDy8xCcdNUSn1uGjABQJV5aJNr_71sJlqRrzuCj9a5JjFdSn1VVARQNK1HkVqSiXXSISHFOjMw/w400-h238/@_Howdy%20Pardner.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How the Howdy Pardner looks today. Photo: Michael Guillén</td></tr></tbody></table>With regard to how working on this story through this film has affected him over the years, Seth admitted to an audience member that it was affecting him more now than at any other point. Partly because a musical play—<i><b>The Show On the Roof</b></i>—was inspired by <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> and recently staged their premiere at the Boise Contemporary Theater (“BCT”). <i><b>The Show on the Roof</b></i> took the story of the Travelsteads and their Howdy Pardner drive-in. </p><p>Though <i><b>Fall of ‘55</b></i> does incorporate archival interview footage, most of the interviews in the film Seth shot himself, which afforded him the opportunity to fully flex his compassion. Sitting directly across from Alty Travelstead when he talked about the impact this scandal had on his family made his testimonial even more moving. </p><p>Coming from a news background, Randal was trained to keep a journalistic distance and not get too close to the subjects of his story; but June Schmidt, the lounge singer, ended up becoming a dear friend, which he wouldn’t have imagined at first. A lot of the home movie footage used in <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> of Boise in the 1950s, of driving down Capitol Boulevard, of San Francisco and of crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, came from June. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gKfGTWHH0FqSzQsLD5EgsgCEvT7k8SW1h4__p_kQ4OfBkjyNranYojaSA91Sq5nhCmrM26uWXXx0ZrSf5FvFAjLElJVerfez9xqeA8X8HnOnHnUimiGfQpJwXlnT5wj1X6y2a0zt-3vlvdttntN-9yXbneP0sb7R0quKIgf8f1z3iQwaZQ/s3724/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal%2002.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1878" data-original-width="3724" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gKfGTWHH0FqSzQsLD5EgsgCEvT7k8SW1h4__p_kQ4OfBkjyNranYojaSA91Sq5nhCmrM26uWXXx0ZrSf5FvFAjLElJVerfez9xqeA8X8HnOnHnUimiGfQpJwXlnT5wj1X6y2a0zt-3vlvdttntN-9yXbneP0sb7R0quKIgf8f1z3iQwaZQ/w400-h201/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal%2002.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seth Randal at the site of the Howdy Pardner. Photo: Michael Guillén</td></tr></tbody></table>The documentary has given him opportunities he might not otherwise have had to work on other projects. <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> is still a relatively obscure film. At the most, maybe 10-20,000 people have seen it. At the same time, it has given him a measure of credibility. </p><p>As for the BCT production, Randal admits that it’s strange to see stories that he has been close to all his adult life—nearly 20 years—being enacted; and to see characters based on people that he knew personally in some cases. For example, <i><b>The Show on the Roof</b></i> finishes up with a portrait of the piano player depicting Jimmy Sayles, one of the men prosecuted in the Boys of Boise cases. Randal located and contacted Sayles in New York. Sayles’ accuser recognized him because Jimmy used to play the piano on a childrens show on Channel 7.
Seth’s conversation with Sayles lasted several hours. He asked if they could fly him out to Boise to conduct an interview? Seth explained that it would allow Jimmy to see his family and was cheaper than flying himself and a photographer to New York City, plus staying in a hotel there. Sayles answered, “Well, let me think about it.” The next day Seth got a call from Sayles’ sister, angrily insisting, “Don’t you ever call my brother again! Leave him <i>alone</i>!” That demonstrated for Seth that these men who were involved in these cases had time to process what had happened to them, but for the families there was still a lot of residual emotion.
Nonetheless, Sayles ended up coming to the world premiere in New York City and was the guest of honor at dinner afterwards. </p><p>Seeing him brought to life as a character in <b><i>The Show On the Roof</i></b>, caused Seth to remember what Sayles had told he and Virta about how he forgave the people who had prosecuted him because they were “just doing their job”. To see his spirit of forgiveness and hope being brought to life in the stage play was undeniably emotional and a little surreal. For Seth, some of these people are more alive today than during the time when he was working on the cases and doing the research. Of course, the play took licenses and departed from the documentary. It was a musical with song and dance, after all, and—obviously—those songs weren’t being sung in the 1950s. There were some minor factual details that were changed, but—on the whole—Randal felt <b>T<i>he Show On the Roof</i></b> was fairly true to the people he knew. </p><p>At this juncture Seth shifted to introducing me as the person who would be asking him a few more questions. He read my boilerplate bio: “Michael Guillén is the founding editor of <i>The Evening Class</i> and a former member of the San Francisco Film Critics Circle and a contributing journalist to several print and online venues.” But then with a glint in his eye added: “Known for his insightful questions, he has interviewed many notable directors, including Wes Anderson, Charlie Kaufmann, Eli Roth, Ang Lee, and David Cronenberg. He’s also interviewed many actors, including the following Oscar® winners: Viola Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Shirley Jones, Forrest Whittaker and Marisa Tomei. As well, he’s interviewed a number of queer filmmakers, including John Waters, Peaches Christ, Jenni Olsen, Alan Cumming, Mink Stole and Cassandra Peterson, aka Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.
“In 2007 in San Francisco at Frameline, he had an opportunity <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2022/05/throwback-thursday-2007-frameline31.html" target="new">to interview a young Idaho filmmaker named Seth Randal</a> and today we’re having an opportunity to continue that conversation.”</p><p style="text-align: center;"> * * *
<b> </b></p><p><b>Michael Guillén: This is very exciting for me as a film journalist to have the opportunity to do something like this. 15 years ago I got to talk to Seth about this film. It has had a profound influence on me in 15 years. I look at it differently now. Every time I look at this film, I look at it differently. What I want you all to acknowledge here is what Seth has <i>done</i>. <i>The Fall of ’55</i> is a significant contribution to gay history. It’s the individual efforts that people make—as Seth has done with this story—that has contributed to our history, which is a lasting history. This document is the definitive document on the scandal of 1955 and I have to applaud him.</b> </p><p> [Applause.] </p><p>Seth Randal: Very quickly, let me give you a little bit of Michael’s background. He was born in Nampa, moved to Twin Falls as a child, and while he was young he learned about the Boys of Boise cases from Gerassi’s book. Tell me about finding the book and what that was like.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Well, I was an avid reader in Twin Falls. I loved the library—y’know, that fount of <i>socialism</i>—and I was allowed to go into the adult stacks a little bit earlier than most of the other children. I don’t remember exactly why—it might have been the amount of books I read—but, they allowed me to go into adult stacks. Like Seth, I found these areas in the library that I probably shouldn’t have been in and found <i><b>The Boys of Boise</b></i>. I wasn’t old enough to check it out—I was only about 10 or 11 years old—but, I read it. Or I <i>tried</i> to read it, I should be honest. It was very difficult for me to read. The thing that came out of reading it was the word “blackmail.” Blackmail. What does blackmail <i>do</i>? </b></p><p><b>Another thing I must commend Seth for is his truly empathic and compassionate grasp of what this scandal did to people, to real live human people. What I also got out of reading the book is that no one was ever going to blackmail me. Right? Because I was seeing it happening to people around me in Twin Falls. You’ve got to understand that when the book came out, when I was a senior in high school in 1971, homosexuality was classified as a mental illness. I had to be careful of looking sideways at anyone for fear that some adult who didn’t like me was going to yank me into his office, then send me off for electroshock therapy. That’s what I lived with. And I resented that my classmates did not have to think about this. That really bothered me. But I told myself, “You will <i>not </i>be blackmailed. And how can you not be blackmailed?” </b></p><p><b>It was the gestalt of the time. In <i><b>The Show On the Roof</b></i>, the character of Jimmy Sales ends the musical with an upbeat number, saying, “We will survive. I will survive.” Which was the gestalt of my generation. We were just about to move into the modern gay liberation movement of the 1970s and ‘80s. I didn’t want to have anything to do with the Idaho of <i><b>The Boys of Boise</b></i>. I didn’t want to have happen to me what had happened to these men. So I left Idaho. I wasn’t going to let it happen to me.
I went off to San Francisco to take part. To <i>be</i> history. We, as a people, have had to <i>be</i> history. We have had to find it—as Seth did so brilliantly. </b></p><p><b>I don’t like it when you say you “filled in the blanks”. I don’t think that’s the right way to say it or think about it. Seth took a core, factual narrative and built this gorgeous thing around it that amplifies how the scandal had affected the lives of people. This is not just filling in the blanks. This is a visionary look at the emotional effect of this scandal. So I don’t want you to say that anymore.
[Laughter.]
You have to give yourself credit for what you actually did. You may not have known that was what you were doing; but, that’s what you did. </b></p><p><b>All these years later I’m struck by the fact that—in taking on this Boys of Boise project—you didn’t do what Gerassi did. You didn’t talk about “The Queen”. [Addressing the audience.] Do any of you know the background on this? Allegedly, there was a Queen from one of the major families here in Boise, and a feud with another family was what really got the whole scandal mobilized.</b> </p><p>Randal: <i>Allegedly….</i>
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Allegedly. We always have to qualify that version. But the story was that there was a warring competition between families and one family wanted power over the other family so they were trying to get “the Queen” to discredit that family. Instead, “the Queen” was never exposed and many innocent people were hurt by the scandal that ensued. Why did you choose not to take that angle from Gerassi’s book?</b> </p><p>Randal: Well, first off, we were doing independent research. Sure, I had read <b>The Boys of Boise</b>, I had made footnotes, but we wanted to do our own original research by going back to the original court documents, by going back to any record we could find related to that time. The fact is—when you connect the dots—there is just no evidence that there was such a person. I didn’t want the film to be a response to <b>The Boys of Boise</b> except for this one area. There were a lot of people who felt that <b>The Boys of Boise</b> was a sensational version that cast Boise in an unfair light, which some people touch on in the film. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoPnWzgpHDboixjf5LLxQ9uIgywYJnVqs-238VMoAjxU_mWSuCUEBjSurOvfVWEIUNXB3x-RjcjPl35ImyBag3kMXvmEQ2fLRBlLRKfEfkfnHpLEqFQGKruAmeXXQRseN1NHvyc-zwMy2WN_ZRL2TdwHQeRG3f_bmscsSHda2oiKFBJILNA/s2620/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal%2003.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2245" data-original-width="2620" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoPnWzgpHDboixjf5LLxQ9uIgywYJnVqs-238VMoAjxU_mWSuCUEBjSurOvfVWEIUNXB3x-RjcjPl35ImyBag3kMXvmEQ2fLRBlLRKfEfkfnHpLEqFQGKruAmeXXQRseN1NHvyc-zwMy2WN_ZRL2TdwHQeRG3f_bmscsSHda2oiKFBJILNA/w400-h343/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal%2003.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seth Randal (2022). Photo: Michael Guillén</td></tr></tbody></table>We intentionally restricted ourselves to on-the-record sources.
For example, I spoke with Eugene Thomas, the Deputy Prosecutor turned Prosecutor turned President of the American B.A.R. Association at his office in the U.S. Bank Building. But he wouldn’t go on camera and so we couldn’t include any of that. I talked to a number of the men who were the young accusers at the time. I very much wanted to have their stories as part of this and it is a shortcoming of the film that it does not have their perspectives. However, none of them were willing to talk on camera.
The guy whose statement had addressed Al Travelstad’s name being crossed off and bank vice-president Joe Moore’s name replacing Al’s, I met him for lunch and we had a long conversation. I asked him to do an interview and he called me the next day and said his attorney told him not to. </p><p>Likewise, if you saw the musical you saw the story of William Baker who—during the course of this investigation—ends up shooting and killing his father, which was an event that actually happened. We found the color crime scene photos. Vivid Kodachrome that hadn’t seen the light of day in decades so they were still vivid color. It was quite unnerving. I found Baker in Texas. I wanted to include his story but, again, he wouldn’t do an interview on camera. William Baker was the one whose charge against the bank vice-president Joe Moore ended up with Moore being prosecuted. Baker told me that he didn’t even know Moore and had to have him pointed out in a line-up so he would know who he was. But guess what? They both ended up in prison at the same time: William Baker for killing his father and the bank vice-president. He said he apologized to Joe Moore while they were behind bars. That’s a detail that I would have loved to have included in the film, but again we were sticking to stories that were verifiable, that we could say, “These were the facts in the matter, these were the people who were willing to come forward and tell their stories,” and not rely on innuendo and speculation. </p><p>With the Big Queen case? There’s just no evidence that there ever was a Big Queen. In fact, Mel Dir touches on it during his interview where he talks about how the investigators told him, “If you don’t tell us all the gay people you know, we’re going to say <i>you’re</i> the ringleader of this sex ring.” I think the idea of the Big Queen was rooted in this investigative tactic. “We’re going to say you’re the big guy if you don’t tell us everybody you know.” They used that to extract knowledge, to wring it out of people. I don’t believe there was a Big Queen. After years of research there’s no evidence there’s a Big Queen. I know the identity of the person that John Gerassi thought was the Big Queen. He was not the member of a prominent Idaho family and apparently didn’t have ties to Idaho.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: [Addressing the audience.] Now see? This is why I like interviewing someone 15 years later. [Laughter.]</b> </p><p>Randal: Now I want to ask <i>you</i> another question.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Okay….</b> </p><p>Randal: You moved from Idaho to San Francisco in 1975. You were already aware of the Boys of Boise book and that had an impact on your decision to leave the state. How was that book—and Boise—perceived by people in San Francisco and abroad?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Nobody knew about it. Nobody knew about this. That’s why I was so pleased when your documentary came to the Bay Area because I thought, “Oh! Finally, some attention.” </b></p><p><b>I have to say something here that I think is important: the “Add the Words” movement inspired a very fine documentary on that civil rights movement here in Boise. That movement absolutely wowed me when I moved here: to witness a civil rights movement where the people who were on trial, in effect, couldn’t actually be there because—if they were identified—everything that you would think would happen to them could happen to them. “Add the Words” was a straight-ally-supported civil rights movement, which absolutely wowed me. I couldn’t believe it.
I tried so hard to get that “Add the Words” documentary shown in the Bay Area, anywhere I could think of, and nobody wanted to watch it. <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> they wanted to watch because history has the entertainment value of distance. They could think, “Oh well, that happened <i>then</i> and it’s interesting because it happened <i>then</i>.” But when I said, “Wait a minute! This is a documentary that’s showing that our brethren right <i>now</i> are being persecuted in the state of Idaho because of laws that are draconian and you don’t want to show it?” They said, “It’s not sexy enough.” Films of interest at the time either went way back in time to reclaim history or queer civil rights movement happening in other countries. I remember being so disillusioned by this because I pulled in every favor—I have talked to so many people in the queer film community, have helped so many people—but nobody wanted to help me get the “Add the Words” documentary screened. </b></p><p><b>So, to answer your question, in urban gay centers Idaho was perceived as a hinterland. To this day. That’s why I’m proud of you that you got your document in Frameline and it had such an effect that Frameline picked it up for distribution. That was a great thing. But I wonder—if you had decided to make <i>The Fall of ‘55</i> now—would there be an interest? I don’t know for sure that there would be.</b> </p><p>Randal: That’s a good question. If I did it now, there would be fewer original interviews because a number of the people we interviewed for <i><b>The Fall of ‘55</b></i> have since passed away. June Schmitz has passed away.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: June was fabulous.</b> </p><p>Randal: She was a character. Let me tell you a quick story about the serendipity of making the film. We had been working on it for a long time. We were contacted out of the blue by a film festival in Los Angeles because my beloved, late executive producer Louise Luster had gotten the film listed in <i>The Hollywood Reporter</i> as a film in production. So we were randomly selected by a film festival and we were like, “Shit! We don’t even have a script. We’re still trying to throw stuff together. After five years of working on it, we need to get this wrapped up.” So I threw together a script and we sent them a cut that still had a lot of black holes in it. I wrote the script based on the information we had from the people who were willing to talk; but, there were a lot of spots where there wasn’t any footage or photos to cover it up. I said, “June, do you have any home movies or photos?” “Home movies?!” she responded, “I’ve got fifty cans of home movies!”
So we sat in her basement looking through her silent home movies. Some of them we added sound effects to: driving sounds, or sounds in the grocery store, or—early in the film where June is playing the music in the Club Le Bois—our composer <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2304737/?ref_=tt_rv" target="new">Randy Coryell</a> looked at what the musicians were doing and tried to make something to riff around that. I had written scenes like “June was a lounge singer”, “Fairyland Parade” (since re-named the Holiday Parade), “San Francisco scenes.” So we sat in her basement looking through her color home movies. She carried a camera around her neck the whole time. </p><p>That is the actual 1955 Fairyland Parade that she is talking about where she got the hint that her people were going to be busted. The scene where she’s playing in the Club Les Bois, those are the people she’s talking about. There’s a shot of her husband in front of the door of the Club Les Bois at the Fairyland Parade.
June then referred me to a photographer in Boise who had a lot of the black-and-white photos . So we got a bunch of material there. Then, out of the blue, I was contacted by the Idaho Historical Society. They knew me. I had been going down to the Historical Society offices for four years digging through every random box I could find, trying to find something, some detail or some morsel we could put in the film. They called me out of the blue and said, “The guys who run the Egyptian Theater found this old black-and-white Chamber of Commerce film that we think might be of interest to you.”
I’m like, “Yes, I would love to see it.” So they got it transferred and I started looking at it. There are our shots of downtown Boise and the Capitol Building, film shots of Boise High that we needed, and there’s a shot of the city council member whose son was arrested in the prosecution and the chamber door closing. It felt like we had sent a crew back in time to 1955 because—when I looked at one of the calendars on the wall—that black and white footage was shot in October 1955, the same month the scandal started. It was just unbelievably serendipitous how things came together with this.
<b> </b></p><p><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNffoPgKYUFAIJllXBCMUrxoQ1d6KlHtR7cxT84ED9p1D8lIJ3YFxykBgUdpCQ5KLGZ7pbWDGO2yGl-HS8aZ79Qp6q_6DyNofhxhdstsv7K14eibrHnyVEyMgzXDFRcN85-5IWXpww5wFdxeLC7_Mdx6ET49q7PHGvoK_OvJw7Vow8c3t4QQ/s2799/IMG_1677.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2173" data-original-width="2799" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNffoPgKYUFAIJllXBCMUrxoQ1d6KlHtR7cxT84ED9p1D8lIJ3YFxykBgUdpCQ5KLGZ7pbWDGO2yGl-HS8aZ79Qp6q_6DyNofhxhdstsv7K14eibrHnyVEyMgzXDFRcN85-5IWXpww5wFdxeLC7_Mdx6ET49q7PHGvoK_OvJw7Vow8c3t4QQ/w400-h310/IMG_1677.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michael Guillén & Seth Randal. Photo: Michael Hawley.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Guillén: Serendipitous, yes, but again indicative of the spirit of the time because what we were being asked to do as gay-identified young men—you in your time and me in mine—was to concentrate on history, to find our history, because we had been denied history. It had been covered up. In the ‘70s particularly, we were asked to uncover it, to recover it. We were asked to find it in the margins and in footnotes. We were asked to be history, to create history, to become history. That was the challenge that I remember specifically. I believe your serendipity was very much meant to happen.</b> </p><p>Randal: It felt that way.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The timing of it is really quite unbelievable. I want to ask you another question. I’ve watched <i>The Fall of ‘55</i> probably about 20 times. Every time I watch it, something different comes up. Like this viewing, that shot of June’s husband standing in front of the Club Les Bois, I never noticed that before. It’s actually a shot of where she went in to use the phone to warn her friends. So there’s always something and [addressing the audience] I recommend you watch this documentary many times because you’ll keep learning something new.</b> </p><p>Randal: We tried to layer it with a lot of information that would reward people who watch it repeatedly so they catch things that maybe were missed the first time.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: It’s customary to have talking heads in a documentary. In more recent viewings, the two talking heads that have impacted me most are Jeanette Ross, but also Peter Boag. I’ve been researching Peter’s work lately. Peter has done a lot of work uncovering crossdressing in the Pacific Northwest. He won awards for a volume he published on that subject. It fascinates me—and I don’t know if you know this or not—but, there is a huge crossdressing scene here in Boise. Why? What is this? </b></p><p><b>For me, crossdressing is not drag. I have to make a distinction here. Drag is a gay perspective, a gay phenomenon, usually community-building, usually fund-raising, usually comic, whereas crossdressing is something else. Crossdressing is a straight phenomenon. It’s a power play. And I have a lot of issues with it. That’s why I was glad while rewatching <i>The Fall of ‘55</i> that I turned onto Peter’s work again because I think he might help me ratchet down my animosity a little bit? To understand that there actually is a lineage of crossdressing, in which Boise plays a large part. So my question is: how did you get in touch with Peter and why did you pull him in? I know that he was asked to do a foreword for a reprint of <i>The Boys of Boise</i>, was that the main reason you pulled him in?</b> </p><p>Randal: That was one of the main reasons but, also, Peter Boag had been in the news prior to being a part of this film. He had been working at Idaho State University and—I don’t remember all the details because it’s been 15+ years—but he was supposed to be getting funding for a project involving gay research, or writing a book or something like that, and there was a big ruckus over money being spent on something like that. He was already known as a historian, but then when he was asked to write the foreword to <b>The Boys of Boise</b>, I felt he would be a good person to help put the book in the proper historical context because he was already being tasked with that for the reprint.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And then Jeanette Ross likewise caught my recent attention. Here, I have to once again praise Seth’s capacity for compassion. It exceeds my own. I don’t think I have the depth of compassion he feels for the shame these families suffered from the scandal. I posed to Seth way back 15 years ago that I considered these young male accusers to be like the young accusers in Arthur Miller’s <i><b>The Crucible</b></i>. These were young people accusing adults of crimes that ruined the lives of those adults. I don’t think of them as innocent at all. I was sexual at 12 so I know the reality of that. I feel sorry for all the teachers I seduced as I was growing up! [Laughter.] I look back now and think, “That was terrible what you did! The jeopardy that you put them into.”</b> </p><p>Randal: And I don’t endorse that. [Laughter.]
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I remember when we first discussed this that I called these young male accusers “trade.” [Addressing the audience] I’m presuming you are all familiar with the term “trade”? Well, back then you countered that; you didn’t agree that these young men were trade. You felt they were good kids who were poor and just needed money and this was what they did to get it. Can you expand on that because I still don’t quite agree with you.</b> </p><p>Randal: In some cases they were poor kids who were trying to get money to fix up their car or do whatever they wanted to do with the money. In some cases, the accusers were legitimately young gay kids who were fooling around. Or in the cases of Eldon Halverson and Lloyd Thompson—who were accusers in numerous cases—were young men both of age. Nobody truly knows what’s in anybody’s heart; but, I do believe that in most cases the accusers were not willing accusers, especially starting in the very beginning with Emory Bess. He was a juvenile probation officer. He wanted to know, for example, how William Baker had money to be fixing up his car? Bess would be talking to these kids and eventually they would reveal details. Even in the case of Eldon Halverson (who’s featured in the musical briefly), I don’t think he necessarily wanted to be in the role of being the accuser in three or four cases. What it feels more like was—because he was 20-21 in some of the cases, as opposed to 25—they pressured him to be in the role of being the accuser so that he himself would not end up being prosecuted.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I was struck in the documentary of the threats made to juvenile probation officer Emory Bess and his family, which you wouldn’t have thought would happen. Who was threatening him?</b> </p><p>Randal: That’s a great question. His son did not have an answer of who was threatening Emory Bess.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Only that they were driving fancy cars?</b> </p><p>Randal: He stepped on a lot of toes in announcing this investigation, because he basically went over his superiors’ heads to announce this sex ring. So it could have quite possibly been someone in law enforcement or somebody else that he pissed off, some community member who felt threatened. I don’t know that for sure, which is unfortunately why we had to keep it vague. We know that it happened, but we don’t know who or why.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And it is interesting that his son, Ron Bess, elicited some discomfort in our audience. I was monitoring the reception here where it felt like the audience was reacting “how can you say that?” when Ron insinuated that homosexuality was immoral.</b> </p><p>Randal: Because we had limited witnesses who were there at the time, I wanted to make sure that the people we interviewed were given a fair seat at the table to share their perspective. There were some times when interviewing certain people, or when transcribing their interviews, or cutting their interviews and watching clips again and again, where it would make my skin crawl a little bit because they were espousing an opinion that I didn’t agree with. However, the fact that I didn’t agree with the opinion didn’t mean that it was something that shouldn’t be stated. In some cases, it was the prevailing opinions at that time so I had to put the journalist hat back on and be like, “Alright, I’m going to treat this person as fairly as I can, even though I might not agree with what they’re espousing.”
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-ybXSM1MlGp_qqWVZb5urxFudBYcpJzBEbiulaHTanJS1tWzrfePPTUU-bFHp90n8P9v5Yk3QMPccBIpECzkZ5zV1VSn6zBvFQbW7xs7lcYqG5xU6ECD12dZHcG0c2i0_sl-TPU3hSDgpQXqQtJjGO7v3FPCyiJuwm40peO0PKTSvssMhA/s1760/Show%20On%20the%20Roof.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="1760" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_-ybXSM1MlGp_qqWVZb5urxFudBYcpJzBEbiulaHTanJS1tWzrfePPTUU-bFHp90n8P9v5Yk3QMPccBIpECzkZ5zV1VSn6zBvFQbW7xs7lcYqG5xU6ECD12dZHcG0c2i0_sl-TPU3hSDgpQXqQtJjGO7v3FPCyiJuwm40peO0PKTSvssMhA/w400-h309/Show%20On%20the%20Roof.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: I recently interviewed the composer and the author of <i>The Show On the Roof</i>, the musical adaptation of <i>The Fall of ’55</i> and the writer Tom Ford mentioned to me that the interruption of the COVID pandemic has psychologically fractured us so that our understanding of any reality is now fractured. Particularly with this story, this narrative, there’s no way that we can have a “truth” about it; there will always be multiple truths. The play was structured that way to allow the audience to have two or three different takes on each scene so that you, as the audience member, could ask yourself: “Was the homosexual the creepy guy? Was the young person the creepy guy? Was nobody the creepy guy? Was the situation the creepy guy?” I think that’s a healthy response. </b><p></p><p><b>With regard to Emory Bess, I feel for him because I have concerns about this <i>now</i>. I have concerns <i>now</i> that young gay people are under threat by forces here in Boise. It bothers me very much because nobody talks about it. </b></p><p><b>You asked me how <i>The Boys of Boise</i> had affected me in leaving Idaho and what it was like going to California—what that meant for me was that I was given an opportunity to say, “Who am I?” I didn’t think of myself as “gay”; that was a label I chose later. I don’t say I’m gay anymore because the label “gay” isn’t what it was in the 1970s. When you were gay in the 1970s, it was a political act. We were coming out against Anita Bryant. We were coming out against the Briggs Initiative. We were “coming out” as a political act. Then sometime in the ‘90s the term “gay” got appropriated and turned into a lifestyle choice, which really upset me. I don’t care if my curtains match my carpet! [Laughter.] Well, I <i>do</i>! [More laughter.] But it bothered me. So I don’t like to say that I’m gay anymore. People I have met here in Boise’s multi-faceted “scene” will say, “Well, you’re gay, right?” and I go, “Well, I <i>used</i> to be.” Then they ask, “What do you mean by that?” And I will explain to them. Because some of these guys are very concerned about the labels. They’ll assert, “Well, you know that <i>I’m</i> straight, right?” I respond, “I’ll accept who you say you are. But I don’t think the labels work anymore.” </b></p><p><b>But what especially <i>doesn’t</i> work for me is when a “straight” man takes a young “gay” man and convinces him that he must be a woman in order to earn love. In my youth, I was given a choice. If that’s what a young gay in Boise wants to do, fine; but, I sometimes feel that he isn’t really being given a choice.</b> </p><p>Randal: That’s the premise of the musical <i><b>Hedwig and the Angry Inch</b></i>.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Exactly.</b> </p><p>Randal: Which you interviewed the director of that film as well.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2006/06/2006-frameline-xxxthe-evening-class_17.html" target="new">John Cameron Mitchell</a>, that’s right. </b></p><p><b>Why <i>The Fall of ’55</i> is a serious document is because you see how a scandal is manufactured. Bess’ impulse to correct something that he thought was going on with young people is valid, and that’s why I can accept the attitude that’s represented there because I actually have that attitude right now.</b> </p><p>Randal: Bess’ error, I think, was in announcing that there was a sex ring of 100 boys, which automatically got the fires burning and people were instantaneously in a panic over these allegations. Boise’s population at the time was 35,000 people so—by the time you look at the number of teenage boys who would have been in that age range—you’re getting into a lot of them. So it was enormously scandalous.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: And the irony is in retrospect there’s a kind of joke. The love that dare not speak its name has become the love that just won’t shut up. [Laughter.] </b></p><p><b>The concern that we as queer people need to concentrate on is: are the victories and the rights we have obtained being appropriated? I call it gay tokenism. We just had Treefort, where there was Dragfort, which I think is a great, progressive development. However, I fear that it’s being used as a smokescreen to guise something else that’s going on here in Boise. This is just my personal opinion, okay? But when I watch Ron Bess expressing his concern for the young people in Boise in 1955, I have a lot of concern for young people in Boise now. 15 years ago when I first interviewed you, I asked you if this could happen again. You answered, “No, I don’t’ think so because Americans are becoming educated and smart and their critical thinking has developed….”</b> </p><p>Randal: I think that’s paraphrasing. [Laughter.]
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: But now, 15 years later, I have to ask you the same question. Have Americans become smarter? Are we becoming more tolerant?</b> </p><p>Randal: Y’know, honestly Michael, I have to say I’m as concerned as I’ve ever been. There’s been a lot of the pendulum swinging in the opposite direction with the “don’t say gay” business in Florida and all the trans issues. There’s a lot of threats of prosecution against parents. There’s a lot more push back and it’s gotten stronger and more vocal than maybe I had anticipated when I gave you that answer originally.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: We were more hopeful then.</b> </p><p>Randal: Yeah, we were more hopeful that the progress would <i>stick</i>, that it wouldn’t be a constant back and forth of people pushing for their rights and people who oppose them pushing back; but, it’s kind of been a tug of war, which is sad to see. I’m less optimistic than I was 15 years ago about what’s going to happen in the future, which honestly—not to toot my own horn—but that makes the film all the more important because we have to understand what could happen, what <i>did</i> happen, and stand up to prevent that. The lessons of Boise in 1955 and how the scandal tore apart so many lives, how the satellites were shaped and informed and how their lives were impacted as a result of this, if we don’t stand up it just makes it all the more possible.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: We have to look at the scandal with a clear-minded sense of what righteous nostalgia is. I feel we have an effort going on right now trying to pull us back into the mindset of this time period. So we have to look at this time period and seriously examine the righteousness. Righteousness can be okay. It can be okay to be righteous about something, this is how causes are won and minorities are emancipated; however, the kind of nostalgic righteousness that tries to pull us back into a time that was before and heralds it as some kind of idealized time is very pernicious and dangerous.
I attended the rally downtown today protesting the Supreme Court reversal of <i>Roe v. Wade</i>. It shocks me that we have to keep fighting for the rights of women to have authority over their own bodies. I realize that within my lifetime—I’m hitting 70 pretty soon—I’m never going to see this conflict in any way finalized. All that we have is the struggle. All that we have is the constant fight. I’m actually a little bit more optimistic than you and a little more clear-eyed than I used to be. Nothing is in granite and you can’t step into the same river twice. We just keep trying. The poet T.S. Eliot once wrote that for us there is only the trying and the rest is not our business.</b> </p><p>Randal: Now I want to ask you a question that’s kind of a tangent. You’ve spoken about something that happened in the Castro district of San Francisco, which is the gay neighborhood, starting in the late ‘60s into the ‘70s when you moved there that you call the “fluorescence”. Can you explain what that is? And the role that Idaho refugees played in the transformation of San Francisco?
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Thank you for asking! [Addressing the audience] This is so important for you guys to know. Along with Seth’s amazing contribution to gay history through this document, most people here in Boise do not understand that what happened in San Francisco in the 1970s was a political strategy. We all said to ourselves, “I’m not going to be blackmailed.” So we moved somewhere where we wouldn’t be blackmailed. We said, “We’re going to have our own restaurants where we can go with our boyfriends and sit there and have dinner and look over and see other boys with their boyfriends (or girls with their girlfriends) and it’s not going to be a problem. We can have our own banks, our own hardware stores.” </b></p><p><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxR-H9nfeIpj3J9dElgTNMQb9gXDyE9laos7unx55W94W9xUQa3xQ_AQCkcHNkimN09lWTu_U3HanfxbXWZXZFfBwRwBRF9jcrgEDEiS7Wolmh0--GLb9BZbMWAZTk2a6RlatZybQoHfoufyJlY99ON-EClzKTWJWjDy5-vMoDSAzbE2UKQ/s3776/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal%2004.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2832" data-original-width="3776" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQxR-H9nfeIpj3J9dElgTNMQb9gXDyE9laos7unx55W94W9xUQa3xQ_AQCkcHNkimN09lWTu_U3HanfxbXWZXZFfBwRwBRF9jcrgEDEiS7Wolmh0--GLb9BZbMWAZTk2a6RlatZybQoHfoufyJlY99ON-EClzKTWJWjDy5-vMoDSAzbE2UKQ/w400-h300/@_Boise,%20Idaho_070322_Seth%20Randal%2004.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seth Randal (2022). Photo: Michael Guillén</td></tr></tbody></table>This was the beginning of community centers, which were based on the idea of being able to gather somewhere as brethren and become ourselves. In San Francisco, this was largely effected through a pot roast recipe that was brought from Twin Falls, Idaho by a man named Scotty Williams who worked in all the first gay restaurants in San Francisco: Fannys, Burtons, Ivys, the Café Flore. These were the original gathering places for gay people during the Castro Florescence. I call it a “florescence” because for me it was a shining thing when light was starting to come out of us. Visibility was the theme. “We’re not hiding anymore and look at us. We’re <i>beautiful</i>.” That’s what it was. These restaurants—Fannys, Burtons, Ivys, The Café Flore—were all kickstarted by a group of gay men from Twin Falls, Idaho. This is gay history that nobody knows about.
I keep telling people about this because—this is the weird thing—Idaho kind of doesn’t want homosexuality, yet it has everything to do with homosexuality. [Laughter.] It’s been going on like this for a long time. </b></p><p><b>That’s why Peter Boag’s work is so interesting to me right now because this has been a tension—I call it a “hinged” tension (like a swinging door)—that’s been going on here in the Pacific Northwest, but specifically in Idaho, for hundreds of years. Alan Virta, who is just a remarkable individual—Seth introduced me to him—was the historical consultant for <i>The Fall of ’55</i>. He’s done a wonderful analysis and purview of gay history in Idaho.</b> </p><p>Randal: It’s very important work that he’s done going back to the 1800s.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Going back to the Native Americans, to the First People! This is a lineage, this is a tradition, which we should take pride in. There should be no shame here. This is why I keep going on about my concern over young gay men being ashamed of who they are and succumbing to requests to be something other than who they are; it bothers me deeply. My generation worked so hard to not be ashamed, to be proud, and I’m seeing it being dismantled in the Treasure Valley through a kind of righteous nostalgia.</b> </p><p>Randal: Ozzie and Harriet.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Ozzie and Harriet. I mean, who lived those lives really? We know now that even <i>they</i> weren’t living those lives.</b> </p><p>Randal: Do you have any other questions for me?
<b> </b></p><p><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDO0Pl3F4T-t1Mx_AsopduYyV0tbC1NJtS1Ofc7GmwatoojCrHhBA_KKcAHN6UtUbsJEwqhCie8-PKXsze2Q5Zggm9Fu2B2B4MAc6QMfdgsoTvjR8i2vLEhr6ZX1EOoJ-20Pq8sqv_50bgnLSabKnRHnNsBtcmXNaBze18A7d6_usTUlypw/s803/@_Seth%20&%20Louise%20Luster.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="803" data-original-width="747" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDO0Pl3F4T-t1Mx_AsopduYyV0tbC1NJtS1Ofc7GmwatoojCrHhBA_KKcAHN6UtUbsJEwqhCie8-PKXsze2Q5Zggm9Fu2B2B4MAc6QMfdgsoTvjR8i2vLEhr6ZX1EOoJ-20Pq8sqv_50bgnLSabKnRHnNsBtcmXNaBze18A7d6_usTUlypw/w373-h400/@_Seth%20&%20Louise%20Luster.jpeg" width="373" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seth Randal & Louise Luster (n.d.). Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Guillén: I want to talk a little bit about Louise. I didn’t really ask you much about <a href="https://www.imdb.com/name/nm2309221/?ref_=ttfc_fc_cr2" target="new">Louise Luster</a> 15 years ago and her production of the film and what you two were doing. There’s that wonderful photo of the two of you where your hair is down to here. I just love that photo. Talk about archival footage!! [Laughter.] Can you talk more about how you got involved with Louise and why she was willing to help you with this document?</b> </p><p>Randal: Louise Luster, who was the executive producer of this film, was one of two or three people without whom this film could not have been made. It was probably in early 2001 when I was living with my boyfriend and we had money in the bank. He had written a horror movie script and I said, “I’m going to buy us some cameras and we’ll make this horror movie script and turn it into a low budget horror.” We were looking for actors, doing a casting, and we went to this theater company Prairie Dog Productions—which no longer exists but they had office space on Cassia—and they allowed me to crash one of their castings so that I could announce that we were casting for our horror film. </p><p>Louise was one of the people who showed up for this low budget horror. We did an audition with her and—when I looked at her resume—I saw that she had been the executive assistant to the vice-president of a railroad and she had been an Ada County planning commissioner and I thought she had the kind of experience that could benefit us above the line, so to speak. She agreed to be the production manager on this horror film because she had this great experience. I knew that—because she had worked with the vice-president of a railroad—she would be fearless in dealing with people in power and authority. To be in a position like that, I knew she had to be organized and on top of things.
Long story short, the low budget horror film didn’t get completed. My boyfriend and I broke up. I later re-approached Louise and asked if she would be willing to help with this film. I showed her some of the material that had already been shot and told her what it was about. We met originally because she wanted to be an actress but she had gotten excited about the film industry so that on her own she was wanting to do production management on local film projects. I brought her on board as a producer. Louise—who passed away a year and a half ago—was married with children who were very young at the time. At the end of the day, I don’t know why she said yes.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I think I know.</b> </p><p>Randal: I think it was because she believed in me.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Yeah.</b> </p><p>Randal: She believed in me before almost anybody else did and she’ll always have a place in my heart. It wouldn’t have been possible to make the film without her. We wouldn’t have gotten the recognition and gotten into festivals without her. She would travel to the American Film Market in Santa Monica. She got us into <i>The Hollywood Reporter</i>. She became fully invested in wanting to run her own production business to help other Idaho producers to get their projects off the ground. She left behind a lot of unproduced Idaho-made scripts, so—if you know any producers—I have a stack of potential scripts and projects. She invested so much time and effort that we gave her the title of Executive Producer because she earned it. Normally, an Executive Producer would be somebody who threw a lot of money at a project to bankroll stuff. She did it, not directly to the film, but through traveling and through her time. She and I would talk at 2:00, 3:00 in the morning sometimes, going over ideas. I’d bounce stuff off of her. </p><p>September will be two years ago when she and her husband retired to Ecuador. A year and a half ago in September I said good-bye to Louise. She left to Ecuador. I looked at her and I thought, “She doesn’t have the same vibrancy, the same fire, that she did when we were working together.” I was concerned that it would be the last time I ever saw her. In April of last year she went to the doctor after several visits. They couldn’t figure out why she was so low energy and why she was having trouble remembering things. That day they did—I don’t know if it was an x-ray or a ct scan or what—but they discovered that her chest, her pelvis and her liver all had little puffs on them, nodes of cancer, and she died that night in a hospital in Ecuador. </p><p><b>Guillén: I’m sorry to bring up that sad memory for you….</b> </p><p>Randal: No, no, I wouldn’t be sitting here and talking with you if it weren’t for Louise because this film probably never would have been done. Because Alan and I were doing the research, but ultimately I was shooting the video and paying for the trips to do some of the research. There was a time period when a lot of people didn’t even know this was in the works. There were times where I could have just given up and said, “Fuck it. I’ve already invested $15,000 into this. I don’t have any more. I could have bought a boat. My retirement plan would be in much better shape.”
But, the more people became involved and the more we let others know we were working on it to try to get more stories and to try to find support, Louise had helped to organize house parties. She would go door to door to businesses looking for fundraisers for silent auctions., things like that. It wouldn’t have been completed without her and I wouldn’t have the documentary filmmaker. title if it were not for her support and her believing in me.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: As we conclude here, I think it’s clear to us all why she believed in you. As a film critic, I have to say once again this is a remarkable document and it’s going to last for a long time. It may be the one thing you really do. Hopefully not; but, even if it is, you have made a major contribution. I’m grateful for it. I’m sure your audience is grateful for it. Thank you so much.</b>
<i><b> </b></i></p><p><i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i> is available for streaming rental on <a href="https://amzn.to/3nvHUHv" target="new">Amazon Prime</a> and on <a href="https://www.kanopy.com/en/product/174897" target="new">Kanopy</a>.</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-37530561561183212692022-05-13T13:41:00.011-07:002022-05-13T22:15:58.913-07:00BOISE CONTEMPORARY THEATER: THE SHOW ON THE ROOF—The Evening Class Interview With Tom Ford, Alex Syiek and Alan Virta<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-r7RIUy-SnXuLDeiGyuIKaPA2ac3ES-LLl2XwQIRJZyJt68wb3wNxwoLtTmwJVa90UVvTtdkE2qLLyXGVnN8j8k6710x4cm2ixW3xJ4fCrH6yJTLZb8ckDGbVkEo5TePkxkEFgT7u_EkBBv8FaHsxscmPbWTJhFT2GBNbxQqRsBPtrt57w/s1760/Show%20On%20the%20Roof.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1360" data-original-width="1760" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-r7RIUy-SnXuLDeiGyuIKaPA2ac3ES-LLl2XwQIRJZyJt68wb3wNxwoLtTmwJVa90UVvTtdkE2qLLyXGVnN8j8k6710x4cm2ixW3xJ4fCrH6yJTLZb8ckDGbVkEo5TePkxkEFgT7u_EkBBv8FaHsxscmPbWTJhFT2GBNbxQqRsBPtrt57w/w400-h309/Show%20On%20the%20Roof.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>As a young homosexual growing up in southern Idaho in the 1960s and 1970s, it was impossible to not be aware of what was variously referred to as the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boise_homosexuality_scandal" target="new">“Boise homosexuality scandal”</a>, the “Morals Drive”, or—as popularized by the 1966 publication of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Gerassi" target="new">John Gerassi</a>’s summation of events—<b><i>The Boys of Boise</i></b> (who can resist alliteration?). By the time I graduated to the adult stacks of the Twin Falls Public Library, Gerassi’s volume had been on the shelves for only a few years and reading Gerassi’s tract (allegiant to the perspectives of the time) was a trudge and a half that only served to depress me, convincing me that I had to get out of Idaho as soon as possible. All through high school, until I graduated in 1971, homosexuality was classified as a mental disorder in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM); a classification that wasn’t changed until 1973. While studying for exams and maneuvering the hallways of Twin Falls High School, I lived in fear of being sent off for electroshock therapy to cure my mental illness. It irritated me that a majority of my classmates did not have to be distracted by such concerns.
<b><i> </i></b><p></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynv3DnoTo989BHNlZd5_vF19XB7muB8IEI2oa6FJb374KumzxLxRWmff1eewCD5ryHWeUrDZtplmApg7o-3NXHJ5K9yb5EDuqfscoKvAAPXAUYXi-Dt0AH6WF3J3mdlxqi7QpnbJJzTfa6FjKhguTzRuFQFLzZObMqF5L50_4fSs9I5_Eew/s594/@_Boys%20of%20Boise.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="358" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynv3DnoTo989BHNlZd5_vF19XB7muB8IEI2oa6FJb374KumzxLxRWmff1eewCD5ryHWeUrDZtplmApg7o-3NXHJ5K9yb5EDuqfscoKvAAPXAUYXi-Dt0AH6WF3J3mdlxqi7QpnbJJzTfa6FjKhguTzRuFQFLzZObMqF5L50_4fSs9I5_Eew/w241-h400/@_Boys%20of%20Boise.jpeg" width="241" /></a></i></b></div><b><i>The Boys of Boise</i></b> (full title: <b><i>The Boys of Boise—Furor, Vice and Folly in an American City</i></b>) related the sordid events of October 1955 when three men were arrested and accused of having sex with teenage boys, kickstarting a moral panic among Boiseans that was fueled by the editorial histrionics of the <i>Idaho Statesman</i> who promoted a “Crush the Monster” campaign. A “homosexual underground” was conjured out of thin air and investigated strenuously until January 1957, by which time some 1,500 people had been questioned, sixteen men faced charges, and fifteen of them were sentenced to terms ranging from probation to life in prison. It was a proverbial witch hunt that ruined the lives of several individuals and their families. <p></p><p>Fast forward to my successful escape from Idaho to one of the urban bastions of gay liberation, San Francisco, where as a film journalist I was covering the 31st edition of the Frameline Film Festival (2007) where, lo and behold, Seth Randal’s documentary <i>The Fall of ’55</i> (2006) was poised to reacquaint San Franciscans with Idaho’s infamous witch hunt. As a fellow Idahomo, I had to seek him out for <a href="https://theeveningclass.blogspot.com/2022/05/throwback-thursday-2007-frameline31.html" target="new">interview</a>. </p><p>A mere few weeks later while visiting Boise, I met up with Seth Randal once more and he introduced me to the film’s historical consultant Alan Virta and the two of them provided a personal tour of downtown Boise, pointing out the locations where events in their documentary subject had unfolded. </p><p>Fast forward to the Spring of 2020 when Virta invited me to attend a reading workshop at the Boise Contemporary Theater (BCT) of a work-in-progress, <a href="https://bit.ly/3PfpVla" target="new"><i>The Show On the Roof</i></a>, a musical based on the Boys of Boise scandal, written by Tom Ford, with original music and lyrics by Alex Syiek. Seth was an invited guest as well and Alan made a point of introducing me to Tom Ford, who agreed to be interviewed for <i>The Evening Class</i>. Just as I was getting ready to have him over for a pancake brunch, however, <i>The Show On the Roof </i>was necessarily put on hold due to the outbreak of COVID-19. </p><p>Fast forward to the Spring of 2022 when BCT—taking full advantage of a clearing between outbreaks in the pandemic—kicked back into gear, and kicked off with where they left off: <a href="https://bctheater.org/the-show-on-the-roof-2/" target="new"><i>The Show On the Roof</i></a>, winner of their River Prize. They had promised when they announced the postponement that “this show will go on; it truly must go on. Such a vital piece of Boise’s history, and the way that Tom Ford and Alex Syiek have handled it in this musical, deserves to be seen by this community and we are working hard to make sure that we can bring it to you.” To pull audiences back into the theater with a gay musical about the Boys of Boise scandal is perhaps one of the bravest programming launches ever!! Kudos to BCT!! I’m eyeing the rest of their season! </p><p>Too busy to meet for pancakes, let alone too stressed about the play’s opening, Ford nonetheless generously took the time to meet me at BCT a week before the show opened to have a chat about what could arguably be the gayest play Boise has ever seen. He invited composer / lyricist Syiek to participate and I invited Alan Virta, historical consultant for <i>The Fall of ‘55</i>. We sat outside to avoid wearing masks. </p><p>The world premiere of <i>The Show On the Roof</i> ran at BCT from April 13—May 7, 2022. I caught a performance about midway through the run and—due to notable differences in the script from the workshop reading I attended in 2020 and the world premiere—I decided to hold off on publishing the following conversation with Tom, Alex and Alan until after the show’s run to avoid the necessity of editing out spoilers, which proved to be some of the most interesting aspects of the script’s development towards the BCT production. That being said:
<b> </b></p><p><b>SPOILER ALERT: Narrative details are spilled here in order to pursue idiosyncratic themes. I still have some idiosyncrasy credits left and, <i>goshdangit</i>, I’m going to use them!!</b> </p><p> I wanted to talk to Tom Ford about history, first of all, or actually more about <i>historicity</i> and the writing of history. Although I was born in Nampa, Idaho, and raised in Twin Falls, Idaho, I moved away as a young man to San Francisco where history became the presiding theme while I was growing up “gay”. We were challenged to discover and uncover our history (from where it had been purposely covered up and hidden), to find our history (often in margins, footnotes, side glances while hiding in plain sight), let alone create our history, to <i>be</i> history in the making. </p><p>That impulse had already found traction long before l moved away from Idaho and chose to identify as “gay” in San Francisco. I had already been trying to find myself (“be” myself?) through hunting for history, if not simply precedence, when I discovered John DeGerassi’s <b><i>Boys of Boise</i> (1966)</b> in the adult stacks of the Twin Falls Public Library; a volume that titillated my “tween” (though we didn’t have that term yet) interests at the time. I wasn’t old enough to actually check the book out to take home, so I would read a chapter at a time among the stacks, day after day. I have to say it was a somewhat miserable read. Like so many books written about homosexuality at the time, it was written from the presumption that homosexuality was an undesirable illness that could only lead to unhappy and unfortunate circumstances. I had already decided that was <i>not</i> the kind of homosexual I was going to be nor wanted to be. I promised myself I would never hide who I was and, thereby, make myself susceptible to potential blackmail. </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSpoSjkczQk62LtyOLG8MdpIA-kffkdPY_-8TapDsBESzUNb7kxjXTmafxVo0KGKBZQqN-N-BEvJFsEX6v4fUdB2zU9foJkLscuBg5gOnJOvpBM6KugLzkSyn7RDpxZ8qDW2vA6l4GpRUX1fqbbsTZH3RJ2Fafw2GBIzBM4xdjFPata0dcg/s1114/SUPERMAN%20%2330%20(1944)_Jack%20Burnley.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1114" data-original-width="1062" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSpoSjkczQk62LtyOLG8MdpIA-kffkdPY_-8TapDsBESzUNb7kxjXTmafxVo0KGKBZQqN-N-BEvJFsEX6v4fUdB2zU9foJkLscuBg5gOnJOvpBM6KugLzkSyn7RDpxZ8qDW2vA6l4GpRUX1fqbbsTZH3RJ2Fafw2GBIzBM4xdjFPata0dcg/w293-h320/SUPERMAN%20%2330%20(1944)_Jack%20Burnley.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Superman #30 (1944). Artist: Jack Burnley<br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>So, with regard to history, I asked Ford to weigh its importance in the development of his script and why it was decided to stage the narrative as a musical? More importantly, did the musical genre owe any obligation to articulating, or furthering, gay history? And I say “gay history” because this particular narrative primarily involves men and their sexual relations with other men; though I’m fully aware that gay history is ultimately, if necessarily, a subset of queer history. And, again, I use “queer” as a blanket term because the alphabetics of LGBTQ+ nomenclature gets on my last gay nerve and reminds me a little too much of Superman’s impish enemy <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mister_Mxyzptlk" target="new">Mister Mxyzptlk</a>. <p></p><p>Ford admitted mine was a big and complicated question. “My obligation has become smaller than you might think,” he answered, “in terms of the obligation.” He asked to rephrase his answer. “I think we take the history of the events deadly seriously. But first of all, ours is a musical and no one was singing and dancing about it at the time, so right away you put it into a realm of unreality.” At the show’s website, Ford reiterates: “Enter into this show I’ve created. It may not be real, but real’s overrated.” </p><p>Distinguishing the workshop I had seen from the production I was about to see, Ford said that earlier on he was “fairly slavish” about the historical details—names, dates—of the scandal. “That event took place here, this was followed by that.” He wanted to offer a specific example of how all that started “to shift.” </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzohEjFCs6JOHd0644RYiwN_qrSKRSjSQMdjobvwjQ5exVjoe2dpV58MQRhgDK-1iDDvAPtMXd7RGWM7CsqJC1e0t8OGtld56MPOcZ34IisWR1xHCZLOc1WFS10VJRxhPL_aEngn7uErniICKJKLKrp0IpmU1_JLlq4W2yau8lq2derSSvyg/s1618/1658617_843966475630510_2071476649_o.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1010" data-original-width="1618" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzohEjFCs6JOHd0644RYiwN_qrSKRSjSQMdjobvwjQ5exVjoe2dpV58MQRhgDK-1iDDvAPtMXd7RGWM7CsqJC1e0t8OGtld56MPOcZ34IisWR1xHCZLOc1WFS10VJRxhPL_aEngn7uErniICKJKLKrp0IpmU1_JLlq4W2yau8lq2derSSvyg/w400-h250/1658617_843966475630510_2071476649_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The original postponed pre-COVID production shared the eponymous opening number, “The Show On the Roof”, inspired by a scene from Seth Randal’s documentary <i>The Fall Of ’55</i>, which offered vintage footage of young women dancing on the roof of the Howdy Pardner drive-in, owned and operated by Al Travelstead, a key figure in the early months of the scandal. That was followed by a song about the <i>Idaho Statesman</i>, and in turn a scene in the Mode where the script’s Everyman character was introduced. In the 1950s <a href="https://www.idahoarchitectureproject.org/properties/mode-building/" target="new">the Mode</a> had a reputation as “an impressive, high class department store unique to the area” with a second floor Mode Tea Room that had delighted customers since 1895. <p></p><p>Taking advantage of the production’s postponement, Ford continued burnishing the script back in Massachusettes with input from director Rory Pelsue who was helping him with the order of the scenes. As a character, William Baker had been introduced in a park picking up an older gentleman who they decided would be more useful if he was actually somebody who had been involved in the scandal and so they made him Vernon “Benny” Cassel, one of the first three men to be arrested. Their scene, situated in a men’s urinal, was shifted into second place right after the opening number and even with BCT’s prudent and conciliatory “Content and Stage Effects Advisory” in place, Ford joked that—if an audience member was going to walk out—they were going to be walking out <i>quick</i>. “No beating around the bush, so to speak.” </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1sVyALzat-WsovSQwHF4X2yUmunVfG1h6bXHC5JqMdqCX6QEWHXMruxsQqvUsRW-Qq6MHLKOmomHqmOro4l3tD3P336YKwvnuBO1KoxE4UWLBy8L0AMAdazhr78Mj3SpmXj5JS14CtxdmYiqkhjcsYwzUazN1qi1VIEOrgdiGft2jri5jng/s2048/Idaho%20Statesman%20story.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1585" data-original-width="2048" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1sVyALzat-WsovSQwHF4X2yUmunVfG1h6bXHC5JqMdqCX6QEWHXMruxsQqvUsRW-Qq6MHLKOmomHqmOro4l3tD3P336YKwvnuBO1KoxE4UWLBy8L0AMAdazhr78Mj3SpmXj5JS14CtxdmYiqkhjcsYwzUazN1qi1VIEOrgdiGft2jri5jng/w400-h310/Idaho%20Statesman%20story.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>That opportunity to walk out of the show’s “sensitive” subject matter, then gave way to “Crush the Monster”, a rousing number recounting how the <i>Idaho Statesman</i> fanned the homosexual panic with its first gossiped lyric: “Did you hear that a clerk in a clothing store gave a minor a jerk and maybe more?” Cassel worked in retail clothing, which conflicted with the script’s made-up Everyman, Edward, who worked in the men’s department store at the Mode. Suspecting that audiences would think Edward was one of the three men spoken about in the <i>Idaho Statesman</i> account of the first three arrests, Cassel’s employment was shifted to the Candy Kettle and the lyric adjusted to: “Did you hear that a clerk at a candy store gave a minor a jerk and maybe more?”
“So then you start down that road,” Ford explained where adjusted history “becomes a <i>piece</i>…” <p></p><p>So what’s to be made of an adjusted or a recontextualized history? “I think our commitment,” Ford insists, “is to an emotional truth.” He had already isolated moments in the narrative where he had decided he wouldn’t say what he didn’t know about a person.
One of the critiques levied by the show’s director Rory Pelsue was that the story of Al Travelstead wasn’t “landing”. Though hoping to use Travelstead and his shows on the roof of the Howdy Pardner as a narrative device, Al’s character, what his journey might have been, was not landing. In the script Al talked about getting to come back to do the show, God letting him come back to do the show, but the problem was that he had nobody to act <i>against</i>. Once the scandal broke out, Al—tipped off by a police informant (who was also a friend he had fooled around with)—fled Boise. His family joined him later; but, very little is known about Al after his personal exodus.
Al’s character—who was scripturally being employed as the play’s emcee—had no one to act <i>with</i>; but, since he kept referring to God, Ford decided to utilize a classic <i>deus ex machina</i>. He wrote God into the show and cast God as a voice booming out over the actors. This brought <i>The Show On the Roof</i> into the realm of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Here_Comes_Mr._Jordan" target="new"><i>Here Comes Mr. Jordan</i></a> (1941), its sequel <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_to_Earth_(1947_film)" target="new"><i>Down To Earth</i></a> (1947), and their subsequent remakes <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heaven_Can_Wait_(1978_film)" target="new"><i>Heaven Can Wait</i></a> (1978) and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Down_to_Earth_(2001_film)" target="new"><i>Down To Earth</i></a> (2001), respectively. God had let Al come back to Earth to relive the events of the Fall of 1955 and served as Al’s foil, in many ways. This was a major departure from the 2020 script. </p><p>Continuing with his critique, Pelsue likewise felt that the dramatic climax of the show needed to be about Al Travelstead, since he was the main character addressing the audience. Something had to be devised to end his story. Pelsue suggested to Ford that, perhaps, they could show Al’s last evening with his wife Violet at the Howdy Pardner on the eve of his departure from Boise? “Okay,” Ford conceded tentatively, approaching the suggestion, but stumbling because he didn’t actually <i>know</i> what had happened on that last night. No one did. He drafted a first version but wasn’t confident. Was that what happened? Nobody knew and nobody would every really find out. How could they?
Ford then wrote another version that was 180 degrees from the first version, in terms of the relationship between Al and Violet. So suddenly he had three versions of what might have happened: 1) what Al wished would have happened; 2) what Al felt should have been said, and 3) whatever really happened that no one would ever really know.
Returning then to the concept of history being a possible identification of an emotional truth that presides over a historical narrative, historicity drew into focus as the creative act by which histories are constantly being refashioned and reapplied to current contemporary concerns. </p><p>Collaborating with Syiek on the music, and having already expressed concern about stretching too far away from the emotional truth when fictionalizing facts, I was curious how the two could gauge or feel when they had achieved an emotional truth? Ford was quick to recognize that it was their emotional truth filtered through the stories they were telling. Without question, the stories were told from their points of view. </p><p>“All of my songs are basically me speaking with the mask of the character I’m writing for,” Syiek explained. “I think it helps that we’re both performers as well and we know what feels good to act.” </p><p>Ford concurred: “The only way I was able to write was because I’ve been acting for so long and I read so much that I could tell, for the most part, what could be acted. I’m not saying that the writing was good, but it could be acted. </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32ZYphli8juE-jC1ExwpmdC5oe9rntYDwBRDmh7SlZYv8UxfFLkqMuAmbOagCwr767gZbp3zAVq9z8qlvlf0m2fgaQSfHEzQN8eDqx1O02F6WRo7J0fDjx6ws66rGMdLVKxXrLi8t8uPJa3rYqsVxc5IYa08XJM1n0kE_UHHxTCbAbdwj3w/s981/The%20community%20turned%20out%20to%20celebrate%20the%20widening%20and%20repaving%20of%20Highway%2030.%20Al%20Travelstead,%20shown%20seated%20at%20the%20piano,%20entertained%20the%20crowd%20with%20some%20festive%20tunes.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="767" data-original-width="981" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh32ZYphli8juE-jC1ExwpmdC5oe9rntYDwBRDmh7SlZYv8UxfFLkqMuAmbOagCwr767gZbp3zAVq9z8qlvlf0m2fgaQSfHEzQN8eDqx1O02F6WRo7J0fDjx6ws66rGMdLVKxXrLi8t8uPJa3rYqsVxc5IYa08XJM1n0kE_UHHxTCbAbdwj3w/w400-h313/The%20community%20turned%20out%20to%20celebrate%20the%20widening%20and%20repaving%20of%20Highway%2030.%20Al%20Travelstead,%20shown%20seated%20at%20the%20piano,%20entertained%20the%20crowd%20with%20some%20festive%20tunes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Al Travelstead seated at his piano entertaining the crowd.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>“One of the things that hit me hard during the pandemic was not being able to perform. What am I if I’m not on stage? Because being on stage for good or ill in my brain is where I feel most me, the most alive. Al lost all of that. At least as far as I know, he did not perform or do shows. He may have been in community theater, I don’t know. As far as I know, when he and his family left Boise that aspect of their lives was over. He had this little empire with the dance school and the drive-in, and they did these shows, and he played piano. I gave a lot of thought to what it meant emotionally to have that part of your life removed?” <p></p><p>It speaks a lot to the crippling aspect of shame, I suggested, which I understand to be the flip side of pride. But Ford had fortuitously brought up what I refer to as the COVID Interruption. For several artists I’ve spoken to, the COVID Interruption ended up having a potentially positive result, as if they needed to stop their habitual practices to regroup, reassess, and reimagine. Several musicians I knew were forced to retreat from performance into intensified songwriting. The Interruption helped me organize research and gardening projects.
The pandemic—as it was first presented to us—was a death bringer: you could kill your mother, you could kill your friends, if you were in the same room with them. There was a shame attached as suddenly everyone you knew became suspect of contagion. Boise—which had always been a no-handshake, bring-in-the-hug, kind of place—suddenly became the opposite where people would cross to the other side of the street as you approached them or wouldn’t look you in the eye as they passed. Such shame, as a characteristic of the pandemic, was numbing. </p><p>“It was very difficult,” Ford agreed, “especially now that I’m getting older. I was 58 when the pandemic started and I’m 60 now.” When quarantine began in earnest, Ford wasn’t ready to pause his career, though he concedes that he feels the show is much better now than if it had been seen two years ago, because he was allowed to hone the script. I considered this a significant admittance, reminding me of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ira_Progoff" target="new">Ira Progoff</a> who I once heard lecture on the “wisdom in delay.” Ford felt this enforced period of rewriting fell under the category of <i><a href="https://www.storycenter.org/special-offerings" target="new">pandemic</a> <a href="https://www.library.ucsf.edu/news/storytelling-during-a-pandemic/" target="new">storytelling</a></i>. </p><p>Feeling our brains have collectively fractured during the pandemic, Ford is convinced that fracturing is where the idea to tell Travelstead’s story from three different perspectives emerged. “I don’t know what it’s going to feel like in the room when people see it, but it feels like a powerful experience doing it,” Ford shared. </p><p>As for my earlier query regarding an obligation to history, Ford explained, “Your responsibility in telling a story is like when you’re reading a book. That book is your version of that book. You’re dancing with the book. When people say, ‘They didn’t tell the story in this version of this play’, I want to say, ‘They didn’t tell <i>your</i> version of the story. That could totally be somebody else’s version of the story.’ That became very interesting to me. </p><p>“With <i>Show</i>, we offer different versions several times. At the beginning right up to the William Baker scene, we do a pantomime of ‘Boys Beware PSA’ with William and Benny Cassel where Benny is the creepy, leering homosexual and then we do it again as a fully-fleshed scene in which William is the predator. It’s not quite that black and white in the fleshed-out version, but it’s not a cartoonish version. So early on we have that flip-flop of ‘what’s the story?’ We do it again in the Mel Der / Frank Jones sequence where we see the scene twice, where the first one is a mutual, interested, flirting sex hook-up and the second one is where Mel pulls a gun; but, the staging of it is the same.” </p><p>This <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashomon_effect" target="new"><i>Rashomon</i> effect</a> reaches its culmination in the triplicate versions of Al Travelstead’s final evening with his wife Violet at the Howdy Pardner. This strategic technique of using a <i>Rashomon</i> effect to question perspectives on any given event I find important because the “culture wars”—as frequently referenced in the States—have exactly to do with the clash between impassioned perspectives. I remember when Trump was running for the presidency and all my friends were saying, “Oh, he doesn’t have a chance.” I countered, “No, he’s going to be elected. I’m telling you. He’s going to be elected.” And they asked, “How can you say that?” “Because,” I answered, “the people who are going to elect him <i>believe</i> in him. This isn’t some game about who’s right or who’s wrong. Trump embodies their version of the truth and they’re going to go with that version just like we go with our versions of the truth.” </p><p> I’ve come to believe that the only way the American people can come to any kind of bridging between these constituencies is to accept that there <i>are</i> different versions of the truth. <i>Show On the Roof</i> approaches this theme by breaking up an event in history into competing perspectives to demonstrate that history can be—and probably always is—seen through a prismatic lens.
“Our intent—whether it’s successful or not—is to make the audience <i>think</i>,” Ford said. “Who is the victim? Are they both victims? Is it just the older guy? We’re trying as hard as we can to not moralize about it—mainly because it’s not interesting dramatically—but, we definitely have a point of view. Al has a line now at the end of his talking to God where he asks, ‘How do you know where the line is when everything you do and think and want is wrong?’ ” </p><p>As social issues in the script were being hammered out, the theme of consent reared its head several times until Ford had to insist, “Stop. There is no age of consent because it’s all illegal.” Within a certain construct there’s definitely an age of consent and—not to go down a slippery slope—but, Ford was fascinated when he discovered while researching that <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ages_of_consent_in_the_United_States" target="new">the age of consent in the United States</a> in the 1880s was 10-12, with the exception of Delaware where it was 7!! Mind-bogglingly low!! </p><p>By 1920, 26 states set the age of consent at 16, 21 states had an age of consent at 18, and one state (Georgia) had an age of consent at 14. The last two states to raise their age of general consent from under 16 to 16 or higher were Georgia, which raised the age of consent from 14 to 16 in 1995, and Hawaii, which changed it from 14 to 16 in 2001.
Ford made up a line in the unhappy version of Al’s marriage where Violet asks him, “Did you do it with boys?” And he answers, “Well, Wayne was 17 when I sucked his dick and the next day when he fucked me on his birthday he was 18, so yes and no.”
Ford concludes that there are some people who should never be allowed to have sex because of their emotional immaturity. “All of us, to a certain extent,” he suggests. “It’s a thorny subject and I don’t think we shy away from it.” </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIFv2Ul0333ZQeOZ2Au45CJ2Htq1Vn5Tw6SrBLPL4EYbj5MIgB8tDUVgpRongEfoKYoVaBewiF9yab3uOnvMQ0-EynrPVf1Hc5hTzST_HMEDXy83rFIIHKM0KnFNIPoEidC5ozv47GwecgKeH316R30gNYdkLs1HgFchazNT8XSyPxZHikA/s482/@_Virta,%20Alan_%20Jeremy%20Lanningham.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIFv2Ul0333ZQeOZ2Au45CJ2Htq1Vn5Tw6SrBLPL4EYbj5MIgB8tDUVgpRongEfoKYoVaBewiF9yab3uOnvMQ0-EynrPVf1Hc5hTzST_HMEDXy83rFIIHKM0KnFNIPoEidC5ozv47GwecgKeH316R30gNYdkLs1HgFchazNT8XSyPxZHikA/s320/@_Virta,%20Alan_%20Jeremy%20Lanningham.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artist:
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{page:WordSection1;}</style>Jeremy Lanningham<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>At this juncture I wanted to engage Alan Virta, who—as Idaho’s eminent LGBTQ+ historian—served as the historical consultant for <i>The Fall of ’55</i>. Wryly qualifying that such a credit implied “a category of one”, I encouraged him to grab the honor while he could. As a historian, I wanted to know his thoughts about adaptations such as the BCT premiere where, perhaps, the emotional truths were valid but the factual information slightly askew. Did that concern him as a historian? <p></p><p>“You walk into things,” Virta described, “and—if it’s being presented as history but it’s an adaptation of history—it would bother me. But <i>The Show On the Roof</i> is not being presented as history.” I asked how he would describe its presentation then? Historical re-enactment? Historical entertainment? Ford suggested historical fiction and Virta agreed. </p><p>“Historical fiction, as opposed to footnoted, peer-reviewed history. I realize characters have to be composited. Time has to be shrunk….” </p><p>“Footnotes have to be omitted,” I offered to his list of exceptions. </p><p>“The only thing that would bother me,” Virta said, “is if a main character was somehow besmirched and they should not be. For example, if you wrote a play and Adolph Hitler was suddenly the good guy or all of a sudden Abraham Lincoln was a bad guy.” </p><p>Ford admitted to being very concerned about that aspect. By way of example, the line he just quoted regarding the age of legal consent, he had a lot of trouble putting it in the mouth of Al Travelstead, who he had never met and didn’t know and would never know “unless you believe we’re all going someplace where we’re all hanging out.” That reminded me of the Nahuatl conception that when people die they go to that place “where-in-some-way-they-still-exist”. </p><p>“My escape hatch as a writer,” Ford explained, “was that this isn’t the <i>real</i> version of the scene that you’re seeing.” In the real scene they don’t even talk about the age of consent. Instead, Violet makes cheese sandwiches for Al to eat on the bus. “I say real,” Ford qualifies, “because I made it up.” Again, referencing his quote in the program about reality being overrated. </p><p>As a younger writer, I kept journals of who I met, what we talked about and the impression they made on me. Once I shared journal entries with the person I had written about and he complained, “I didn’t say this.” I said, “Yes, you did!” He argued, “No, I did <i>not</i>.” I protested, “Yes, you <i>did</i>!” “<i>If</i> I did,” he countered, “I don’t want you placing it in quotation marks.” </p><p> His reaction, and suggestion, was interesting to me because I suddenly realized that, by paraphrasing, I could place into people’s mouths whatever I believed they had said as long as I didn’t use quotation marks because then it fell within the province of the narrative unreliability of memory. Quotation marks, on the other hand, predicated factual validity.
“All historians take creative license, don’t you think?” I posed to Ford. “That’s why, for me, historicity is more compelling than history.” </p><p>As a further example, Ford copped to being “a crazy <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Crown_(TV_series)" target="new"><i>The Crown</i></a> fan”, which he squarely identified as fiction. “I mean, there are a lot of factual events in it. But any time those royals are in a room talking about themselves, that’s fiction. Their point of view, everything they’re saying, their relationships, it’s all made up. This may be based on the fact that they have strong relationships or whatever, but it’s fiction.”
So I wanted to know if there was a danger in fictionalizing history? Irregardless of whether one sticks to the emotional truths? “Most people think of history as a granite monument,” I said, “but I don’t believe it is. I think it’s more like a flowing creek that you can never step into twice.” </p><p>“A historian is simply choosing what facts to tell you,” Ford relayed. “I always go back to that. If they’re good, a historian will have researched the subject and vetted the facts, but they’re still making choices as to what story they’re telling. With regard to <i>this</i> story, no one will talk, so to a certain extent you have to make up a lot of it. Seth and Alan did an extraordinary job of getting people to speak for their documentary <i>The Fall of ’55</i> and one of the things that’s beautiful about it is that there is the factual center of the story but then there are these satellites, these gorgeous viewpoints, that have relationships to these direct events, but aren’t necessarily the events.” </p><p>Aware that Boise’s homosexuality scandal was something of an embarrassment to Boise’s citizenry, notwithstanding <i>The Idaho Stateman</i>’s culpability, and with subsequent interest in the scandal inducing lawsuits and tightlipped reactions—Seth Randal had a difficult time getting the key players of the scandal to speak on camera for his documentary—I was curious if Ford was aware of any mounting resistance to the BCT premiere? Diplomatically asserting that BCT “does not proactively offer advisories about subject matter, as sensitivities vary from person to person”, BCT nonetheless felt compelled to issue a Content and Stage Effects Advisory that <i>Show On the Roof</i> was intended for mature audiences only and that it contained strong sexual language and implied sexual acts.
Ford was not aware of any resistance, if any, even as I suggested that controversy is often good publicity and might earn the play a shot at an off-Broadway extension. </p><p>My reason for asking was purposeful. Though Boise’s homosexuality scandal, Randal’s documentary treatment of same, and the BCT musical all approach the scandal’s manufacture and its admitted non-existence, I could argue that there’s a more pervasive homosexuality scandal going on today in Boise.
Since moving to Boise about 11 years ago, I’ve been conducting a semi-sociological research project through the monitoring of ads placed on Craigslist, Doublelist, Grindr, Scruff, Adam4Adam, among various other online dating forums, and how those ads are shifting in their wording and trends. Though I lived my adulthood in San Francisco and thought I had seen just about everything, I was shocked to discover that Boise had a significantly diverse queer community, not only with its visible gay scene and its now-customary drag court; but, also its attendant discretion-bound scene, the <i>other</i> scene, the one I would categorize as Boise’s <i>real</i> gay scene—if one can fairly call it that—which is the rampant, closeted, straight-curious, bi-married male scene with its huge crossdressing undercurrent. Admittedly, this predominantly straight activity (drag = gay; crossdressing = straight) disturbs me for being essentially conservative, emulating if not ardently mimicking the values, concerns and hypocrisies of the time period that contextualizes the Boys of Boise scandal; <i>i.e.</i>, the 1950s into the ‘60s. It’s as if the mindset of that period of Boise’s history insists upon maintaining a governing presence right to the current moment. </p><p>Would a musical shining an effervescent spotlight on Boise’s 1955 homosexuality scandal threaten and/or risk exposing the straight-curious bi-married male scene currently in full swing? Could one portray this current scene as the scandal’s lasting conservative legacy? I imagine no bird hiding in plain sight appreciates having their plumage ruffled. Would that induce a negative reaction to <i>The Show On the Roof</i>? Or—since most Boiseans are disinterested and unaware of this underground scene—is the threat obviated? Is there really even a threat? Wouldn’t most Boiseans open-minded enough to take a look at the BCT premiere of <i>The Show On the Roof</i> view it as a near-nostalgic overview of another era, not their own, and thus find it safe and entertaining? </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Ford can’t say. He could recount the performance of the opening number (the title song “Show On the Roof”) the evening before for BCT’s donors. Just before breaking into the song, the show’s narrator, Al Travelstead (winningly and energetically portrayed by Ford himself) tosses off a scriptural bit about Al dressing up as a fountain girl. This comes up because God keeps calling Al “Gertrude”, which Al explains to the audience, “Okay, so real quick, the ‘Gertrude’ thing: back in 1955, I would occasionally dress up as a fountain girl, wear a red wig, and go by the name of Gertrude, <i>as you do</i>….” Ford said he could see people in the audience go, “Whaaaaat? He’s going to dress up as a girl? <i>Whaaaat?</i>” <p></p><p>That’s exactly the reaction I’d expect from an open-minded audience swinging at a cross-dressed curve ball. There’s no harm in it, really. Unless—because it’s anticipated—it hazards being a guised reaction that distracts from and hides a more genuine reaction. It’s easy to act puzzled and clueless when all the clues are up your cut sleeve. Or as W.C. Fields might quip, “This ain’t a game of chance, not the way you play.” </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtpwRdSyvTly4Urx1G-yAp057vvxq3K5RzbBzJF5r4XzqllE0pw00HWqkN6GdDin9bgdKkqT6HZSIs4GCKyuad0TIa0i7h3EtMTxoWwMo00DUxiYqHa6Sv6PKtttHhJcM3JES2AhpCEW6Th03_wFvFRgEw2hJLveSnJnAToE7YxWRsb4OHQ/s1671/Howdy%20Pardner.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="1671" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtpwRdSyvTly4Urx1G-yAp057vvxq3K5RzbBzJF5r4XzqllE0pw00HWqkN6GdDin9bgdKkqT6HZSIs4GCKyuad0TIa0i7h3EtMTxoWwMo00DUxiYqHa6Sv6PKtttHhJcM3JES2AhpCEW6Th03_wFvFRgEw2hJLveSnJnAToE7YxWRsb4OHQ/w400-h148/Howdy%20Pardner.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancers on the roof of the Howdy Pardner. Photo: Unknown<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>The framework of <i>The Show On the Roof</i> is Al Travelstead returning to the Howdy Pardner to stage a show on the roof—as had been done in the past—only this time to tell the story of the homosexuality scandal. Ford confirmed that Travelstead became such a key character to the play precisely because of Ford’s fascination with the vintage home movie footage Seth Randal provided in <i>The Fall of ‘55</i> where fountain girls are shown dancing on the roof of the Howdy Pardner. “Had I not seen Seth’s documentary,” Ford asserts, “we wouldn’t be sitting here, story-wise that is. There was that photo in the documentary of the girls on the roof and I thought, ‘Oh my God!’ It fascinated me endlessly!” When he later learned that Al had dressed up to join the girls on the roof, Ford was hooked. <p></p><p>But it was actually composer / lyricist Alex Syiek who brought the idea of adapting The Boys of Boise into a musical to Ford and asked for his help in writing the script. Initially, Ford declined. He’d never written anything before and, besides, he found the story too <i>sad</i>. “It’s <i>still</i> sad,” Ford says, “<i>Show On the Roof</i> is the happiest version of a really really sad story that you could tell.” I remembered leaving the workshop humming and dancing. “Well,” Ford warns, “it’s gotten sadder, I think, especially lately.” </p><p>Something needed to be said, I felt, about a homosexual scandal being transformed into musical theater and the given, almost archetypal ascription of song and dance to gays. When I ran into a friend at Edwards Nursery and told him about the BCT premiere, he clicked his tongue and laughed, “Of course they would turn that scandal into a musical.” I couldn’t tell if he was happy about that or not. Perhaps he was commenting more on the fact that it was surprising it hadn’t already been done? </p><p>“I don’t know if this is fair to say,” Ford offers, “because I haven’t gotten to see much of what other theater companies have been presenting to Boise in recent years, but I’m going to place a bet that this is going to be the queerest show that Boise has ever seen.” I brought up that BCT did bring Boiseans <i>Hedwig and the Angry Inch</i>. Ford and Syiek looked at each other and without missing a beat Syiek asserted that <i>The Show On the Roof </i>was queerer. Ford agreed. Now having seen the performance, I too would agree. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrPwlQ9MLaxVN28iCyj_t4xlDI8_lTWC5d_-p0vs-BmD4a4tp8GTu4X25ao5KtB5Ecbi8PH_IQhA4Xo-1z0H9-YFbxMTkGfGBl1etJ3efX5pDDgNsONsD7Fij4_9vF9AMKhilginHO09ewSs1Ma2V87zGfODbiYy-lczjoricCsy9ALDXRg/s960/186564114_4406587139374589_879835102463535225_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrPwlQ9MLaxVN28iCyj_t4xlDI8_lTWC5d_-p0vs-BmD4a4tp8GTu4X25ao5KtB5Ecbi8PH_IQhA4Xo-1z0H9-YFbxMTkGfGBl1etJ3efX5pDDgNsONsD7Fij4_9vF9AMKhilginHO09ewSs1Ma2V87zGfODbiYy-lczjoricCsy9ALDXRg/w400-h225/186564114_4406587139374589_879835102463535225_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Adapting Boise’s homosexuality scandal into a musical makes its subject arguably more accessible. Aware that Syiek brought the idea to Ford, I enquired how the idea had come to him?
Four years back, while he was staying with a host family working on a musical he had been commissioned to write for the Idaho Shakespeare Theater’s youth program—he was writing a modern adaptation of “Around the World in 80 Days”—Siyek entered a conversation with the father of the family who said that a story he had always wanted to see written for the stage was the story of the Boys of Boise. “What’s that?” Siyek queried, “l’ve never heard of it.” The father loaned him his copy of the book, which Siyek read but put aside, admitting it was a difficult, dated read.
When he came back the following Spring he had dinner with the host family again and the father pressed the issue about the Boys of Boise so Siyek gave it another read, which was when he approached Ford about collaborating on an adaptation. He hadn’t written any songs for it, didn’t really even have an outline or anything to show Ford, but he knew that if it was going to happen he would need to have a collaborator willing to tackle the script while he focused on writing the music. <p></p><p>Having sidetracked off to the characterization of Al Travelstead and the musicalization of the scandal, I wanted to circle back to the potential relevance of the play to our contemporary moment. The problem as I see it is the potential harm of what I can only term “gay tokenism”. A certain amount of gay tokenism towards gay liberation has come into full effect in Boise—we’ve just had Treefort, which included Dragfort, <i>etc.</i>, by way of example—but, as progressive a representation as that might be, as noteworthy an achievement as that might be, it remains a separate activity, a separate entity that—unbeknownst to itself, perhaps—provides a smoke screen for what disturbs me about Boise’s underground male sex scene. The tokenism—the attitude that gays are being represented and accounted for and therefore no one should complain to the contrary—allows the conservative disposition of the sexual underground to gain force. What I’m witnessing are young men who are just beginning to realize that they’re gay being convinced by straight married men to dress up as women substitutes for them. This disturbs me deeply. These young men are not being offered the opportunity I had as a young man to make decisions about who I was and who I could be. Instead, they are being told that they will not have the love they want unless they forfeit their masculinity and enhance their femininity for the benefit of straight men who seek to deny that they are having sex with men. Already facing multiple challenges and hardships, the choices made by some transgendered youth are being influenced if not co-opted by straight men hoping to sexually fetishize them. </p><p>“But this is our show!” Ford opines. “It’s the same theme. When you’re being told you can’t be someone, then you go and pick up a boy in the park. Or go to something that’s available, which is how a scene like this perpetuates itself.” </p><p>Which reminded me, after moving to Boise, when a friend told me she was glad I had moved from the Great Big Gay City so that she could ask me some Great Big Gay questions. Over dinner one night, she relayed something that had happened to her at the Shakespeare Festival when she went into the women’s restroom. There was a woman in the adjoining stall who kept tapping her foot to catch her attention. I exclaimed, “She was doing a female Larry Craig?!!” and my friend said, yeah, the woman was definitely trying to catch her attention. When she emerged from her stall, the woman exited hers at the same time, eschewing all subtlety about her intent. My friend said she wasn’t necessarily bothered by the situation. She didn’t feel threatened or anything like that. If anything, she thought it was kind of funny. “But I didn’t know if I should report her to the authorities for that?” she asked.
I felt a sad chill go down my spine. “Why would you do <i>that</i>?” I challenged. “Don’t you think this woman is miserable enough that she has to be tapping her feet in a restroom? Why would you want to drive her into the bushes? Because that’s what would happen. You would drive her from someplace relatively safe to someplace without any safety whatsoever. You have to think larger than that. You have to think about whose lives you’re impacting when you do what is sometimes promoted as morally correct or politically correct, which might truthfully be a misguided consensual view.” </p><p>“When we started to write this,” Ford confided, “my feeling was drawing on a lot of certain current emotions I was having being here, having lived in New York; but, it seemed somewhat distant as an event and a subject.” Ford adds, “I would say right now it seems like there is no distance at all.” </p><p>His comment intrigued me because I would agree that the events of 1955 seem strikingly familiar and comparable to today’s underground scene. Is it possible to learn from history? Are we doomed to repeat it? Especially, when there seems to be a strenuous effort to pull back into the 1950s?
Ford understood. To pull back, “to yank and rip”, and he brought up <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2022/03/10/florida-legislature-passes-anti-woke-bill/" target="new">the recently-passed Florida bill</a> that limits how schools and workplaces can teach about race and identity. My concern—at the moment of my posting this entry on <i>The Evening Class</i>—is yesterday’s announcement that <a href="https://www.idahostatesman.com/news/local/education/article261305732.html" target="new">a school board in Nampa, Idaho</a> has taken it upon themselves to forcibly remove 25 books from Nampa School District libraries. </p><p>“The list goes on and on,” Ford commiserates. </p><p>Moralistic assaults such as Nampa’s (let alone ongoing insults by the Idaho legislature), underscore the entrenched hypocrisy of Boise’s sexual underground. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to discover that conservative members of these school boards, or their straying spouses, are participants in this underground. Denial, coupled to discretion, are the law of the land. It’s easy to assert there is no conservative agenda in this underground—“No, that’s not being done because, look, we just had Dragfort. How you can say there’s a conservative agenda?”—but, I have solid concerns that the gains and advancements of gay liberation are being appropriated, supplanted and used as a foil to justify or excuse the strenuous efforts to allow sex between men to carry on only as long as it comports to the discretionary (hypocritical?) practices of the ‘50s. I’ve long felt that—in order to participate in the straight-curious, bi-married male scene—a gay man has to step halfway back into the closet because the fantasies of these men are being projected onto the ceiling of the closet. </p><p>One of the narrative elements of the Boys of Boise scandal that most intrigued me was the extent to which Idaho law enforcement (namely, Sheriff “Doc” House) was determined to “crush the monster”. House crossed state lines, entered California, entered San Francisco, arrested Mel Dir, drove him back to Idaho, and put him on trial, where he was sentenced to prison for lewd conduct with a minor. Mention was made in Randal’s documentary that a San Francisco police officer accompanied Sheriff House when he arrested Dir, though the officer was flabbergasted that such efforts had been made when San Francisco police would be hard-pressed to travel as far as Oakland to make an arrest on such charges. </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJPQfwNlrEkkw7nvMxw1DCs16JzG-le3QL2Jkn_0p5GyVC2eXZDTKKw6Rbh7dWsdmytsfrlc5W_O_ISjqp2D-UDp3L5CaM9qrouuU5gMzE4qUl8nL4fvCccuolp-LZHMsyT92batVRfqj42Wprgruc6VdUJT9J6PTqFDxV5YcCROxBJ-GTg/s3424/@_Walters%20Ferry,%20Idaho_082521_Vintage%20sign.jpeg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2229" data-original-width="3424" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJPQfwNlrEkkw7nvMxw1DCs16JzG-le3QL2Jkn_0p5GyVC2eXZDTKKw6Rbh7dWsdmytsfrlc5W_O_ISjqp2D-UDp3L5CaM9qrouuU5gMzE4qUl8nL4fvCccuolp-LZHMsyT92batVRfqj42Wprgruc6VdUJT9J6PTqFDxV5YcCROxBJ-GTg/s320/@_Walters%20Ferry,%20Idaho_082521_Vintage%20sign.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">
<span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Photo: ©</span><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Michael Guill</span><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">é</span><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">n</span>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></td></tr></tbody></table>This bold act of exaggerated extradition melds neatly with research I have conducted on the longstanding cultural axis between Boise and San Francisco, which has historical precedent going back as far as the gold rush days when prospectors—coming by way of Silver City into the Treasure Valley—emptied into Boise, a city being built to accommodate them. <p></p><p>For that matter, with regard to precedence and continuity, I may have to adjust my attitudes regarding Boise’s crossdressing underground now that <a href="https://www.glapn.org/670005PeterBoag.html" target="new">Peter Boag</a>’s ongoing investigations into same-sex behavior in the Pacific Northwest have unveiled a transgendered frontier where cross-dressing—for both men and women—was pervasive, as detailed in his award-winning volume <a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/book/9780520274426/re-dressing-americas-frontier-past" target="new"><b><i>Re-Dressing America’s Frontier Past</i> (2011)</b></a>. </p><p>Something I have tried to address—though I haven’t quite been able to formulate it to my satisfaction—is the continuity between the sexual scandals of Idaho. There’s a kind of hinged lineage in fact, connecting the seeming homophobia of Idaho and the blatant homosexuality of San Francisco. Mel Dir’s extradition, his San Franciscan arrest, adheres to this continuity. Idaho’s law enforcement could only have enforced the law as insistently as they did because they felt morally superior and compelled to do so. As a young man growing up in the gay liberation movement of the 1970s, it was exactly this morally-sanctioned heterosexual hegemony that became one of the main targets of my political activism. Who the hell did these righteous sexists think they were trying to dictate to me what I could or could not do in the consensual privacy of my own bedroom?!! All these decades later, I hardly flinch now when considering that <i>Roe v. Wade</i> is being led to the guillotine on the muscled arm of such moral superiority. Within my lifetime it appears these battles will never be fully won as much as they are constantly fought. </p><p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ctiIv3kXaQjUDtLrYNNtyiyfHrIDA1IKaURF3ztmOlOk0hIxkKqzgYjTCBCim5S48_NEdYCKVvyuF2XKXx5TxppweVDRlVRD1p32KpdojIF1Sq9WTGCa7AOm6Tj4mXbFiDwvI_DEqULjRIXUwZ8cY_qYpIbbTEmAeLVgxwiSM-CQqwPMUw/s343/@_Mel_Dir.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ctiIv3kXaQjUDtLrYNNtyiyfHrIDA1IKaURF3ztmOlOk0hIxkKqzgYjTCBCim5S48_NEdYCKVvyuF2XKXx5TxppweVDRlVRD1p32KpdojIF1Sq9WTGCa7AOm6Tj4mXbFiDwvI_DEqULjRIXUwZ8cY_qYpIbbTEmAeLVgxwiSM-CQqwPMUw/w291-h400/@_Mel_Dir.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mel Dir. Photo: Unknown.<br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Ford confided that it was “much fun” to play with the Dir sequence in the musical, where they play it “very filthy.” There are such strange, comic overtones to the scene with Sheriff House’s wife accompanying him on his mission, and driving back to Idaho as if they were on a family road trip. <p></p><p>In re-watching <i>The Fall of ’55</i> to refresh my memory for our conversation, what struck me this viewing—among my many viewings of the documentary—was the commentary by the counselor / social worker Jeanette Ross who opined that—long after the scandal—this sorry phenomenon is still going on. She’s counseling young men who continue to solicit older gay men with the aim of blackmailing them to stop doing so. Because gay men are not protected under Idaho law, such exploitation is made all the easier, if not indirectly encouraged. </p><p>I’ve even had that experience here in Boise. A young man I met online thought he could blackmail me. “You think you can blackmail me?” I laughed, “Everybody knows I’m gay and nobody cares!” “Well, we’ll see about <i>that</i>,” he snapped back disgruntled because he really thought he had something on me that he could exploit for profit. I was stunned by the lengths he had gone to in hopes of exposing and fleecing me. </p><p>What I considered brilliant in Ross’ commentary was her opinion that law enforcement should not have been going after the men; but, should have been working with the young trade and teaching them not to target these older men. In <i>Show On the Roof</i>, the impact of such behavior on the younger men is shown through the story of William Baker, who ends up shooting his father who bullies him about his involvement with the scandal. Having come from a troubled upbringing, Baker didn’t have a support network who could guide him towards a brighter path and, as a consequence, his life came crumbling down and he ended up in jail. In the ‘50s more focus was placed on developing the newly-constructed concept of the juvenile delinquent than funding or offering social services to help them. “Mental health”, in fact, was considered a Communist concern. </p><p>To conclude, I expressed my pleasure that Ford and Syiek had brought this story to the Treasure Valley, rendered in their own way through their own perspectives. “It’s a gift you’re giving your queer brethren,” I said. “It’s a gift of history. It’s a gift of memory. It’s a gift of interpretation. It’s a gift of historicity. I hope it will be received with the attention and respect with which it should be received.” </p><p> Of related interest: <a href="https://www.boisestatepublicradio.org/arts-culture/2022-04-13/boys-of-boise-show-on-the-roof-contemporary-theater" target="new">George Prentice</a> interviewed Ford and Syiek for Boise State Public Radio.</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-49669899776310493482022-05-12T23:07:00.007-07:002022-05-13T11:11:26.171-07:00THROWBACK THURSDAY / 2007 FRAMELINE31 / THE FALL OF '55—The Evening Class Interview With Seth Randal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZiPglGL3AClLKUrerWwBATtsIANaaCAXJlJ08uoPfv1DCuuVCVaptDHmRg-OyuFLbykmtJrL9b_DeEQe7tj6KKRa8S_VBew8asLiz8QAqHkHtMWdXi_Fx0YfWABcwYiVTf59AFp7SHb89Dmqg1_XAgwVESRrM__BVaf_99YS_uK4KfVVjA/s1161/Randal,%20Seth.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1161" data-original-width="1161" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTZiPglGL3AClLKUrerWwBATtsIANaaCAXJlJ08uoPfv1DCuuVCVaptDHmRg-OyuFLbykmtJrL9b_DeEQe7tj6KKRa8S_VBew8asLiz8QAqHkHtMWdXi_Fx0YfWABcwYiVTf59AFp7SHb89Dmqg1_XAgwVESRrM__BVaf_99YS_uK4KfVVjA/s320/Randal,%20Seth.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>In anticipation of <a href="https://bit.ly/3MaWMWt" target="new">a free screening of <i><b>The Fall of ’55</b></i></a> scheduled for Saturday, May 14, 2022, 6:00PM at The Community Center, 1088 N. Orchard St. in Boise, Idaho, to be followed by an onstage discussion between Seth Randal and yours truly, I felt it might be helpful to revisit our earlier conversation when his documentary screened at the 31st edition of Frameline, San Francisco, California. </p><p>Seth Randal was thoroughly enthused when we met. He had been putting up announcements of an added screening of <i><b>The Fall of '55</b></i> [<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Fall_of_%2755" target="new"><i>Wikipedia</i></a> / <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0823174/reference/" target="new"><i>IMDb</i></a>], necessitated by the rapid sellout of his first screening at the Roxie Film Center. Amiable, articulate and earnestly invested in his own project, we retreated to Harvey Milk Plaza away from the noisy festival throngs to conduct our interview in sunlight and fresh air. Coincidentally enough, both of us were both born in Mercy Hospital in Nampa, Idaho. </p><p>As Randal has synopsized at the film's website: In late 1955 and early 1956, the citizens of Boise, Idaho believed there was a menace in their midst. On Halloween, investigators arrested three men on charges of having sex with teenage boys. The investigation claimed the arrests were just the tip of the iceberg—they said hundreds of boys were being abused as part of a child sex ring. There was no such ring, but the result was a widespread investigation which some people consider a witch hunt.
By the time the investigation ended, 16 men were charged. Countless other lives were also touched. In some cases, men implicated fled the area. At least one actually left the country. The investigation attracted attention in newspapers across the nation, including <i>Time</i> magazine. In 1966, author <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Gerassi" target="new">John Gerassi</a> wrote a book on the investigation, <b>The Boys of Boise</b>. The "Morals Drive" left scars which remain to this day.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7GeJLLIeRDxZj1RtZsU5KFHPCQxZ2B-_4rQ0HzS3MF1NvnftifCziINdobWIezx2VaqsAUi0JvdJiLjqF5OtWi0I8Q-LJuAQg00Vdgn5mRUBPGrjyrbjdE21ZJEFJ9HcbtjQwPTdUmXHkJzrj7Dm8UqZN41asdEFGbMYM6YOv_ssHw3T4HQ/s667/@_Fall%20of%20'55%20banner.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="667" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7GeJLLIeRDxZj1RtZsU5KFHPCQxZ2B-_4rQ0HzS3MF1NvnftifCziINdobWIezx2VaqsAUi0JvdJiLjqF5OtWi0I8Q-LJuAQg00Vdgn5mRUBPGrjyrbjdE21ZJEFJ9HcbtjQwPTdUmXHkJzrj7Dm8UqZN41asdEFGbMYM6YOv_ssHw3T4HQ/s320/@_Fall%20of%20'55%20banner.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Admirably influenced by the work of documentarian Ken Burns, <i>The Fall of '55</i> likewise pays homage to the graphic design of Saul Bass (<i>Advise and Consent</i>, 1962) via Matt Johnson's art campaign, highlighting the double entendre of the film's title. A torn cottonwood leaf becomes the icon of hearts torn by Boise’s homosexuality scandal.<p></p><p style="text-align: center;"> * * * </p><p>Seth Randal: It's tremendously exciting to be here in San Francisco and to have the first showing sell out. It's just overwhelming. It's remarkable to see the interest that people have in this story.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOltUJJ_-ci5xeI-KZFBzoRh0vzbzPh9byC_gqDqQkmyBLA7bV0J2hmTi1ilp8LqNL8KMOgdMikVopYod3t6RNLw_gnzXCUfcNHVTakxR0hrrv4oTTt-w8TmkpwCqGu7dhkf8mlaA9GVKLspKDOp2loJ3WFOP7aPZddTMHN_WyXy6EfB1GA/s594/@_Boys%20of%20Boise.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="594" data-original-width="358" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOltUJJ_-ci5xeI-KZFBzoRh0vzbzPh9byC_gqDqQkmyBLA7bV0J2hmTi1ilp8LqNL8KMOgdMikVopYod3t6RNLw_gnzXCUfcNHVTakxR0hrrv4oTTt-w8TmkpwCqGu7dhkf8mlaA9GVKLspKDOp2loJ3WFOP7aPZddTMHN_WyXy6EfB1GA/w206-h400/@_Boys%20of%20Boise.jpeg" width="206" /></a></b></div><b>Michael Guillén: Audiences in San Francisco have been trained to appreciate queer history. As someone who came here in 1975 in the midst of the Castro Florescence and has watched Frameline develop all these years, the quality of the documentaries that have made it into the program line-up has increased each year. I was excited by your entry—<i>The Fall of '55</i>—because, as I mentioned, I'm from Idaho, born in Nampa, raised in Twin Falls, and was aware of John Gerassi's book <i>The Boys of Boise</i> that examined the events that scandalized the capitol in the mid-50's, though not aware of all the details included in your documentary. What motivated you to focus on this story? Why did you feel it was a story that was important to tell now?</b> <p></p><p>Randal: I had learned about these cases back when I was in high school going to Nampa High and my cousin's girlfriend had told me that there had been this scandal and a book had been written and I was blown away. So I went to the Nampa Library and I went to "that section" where they had these types of books and looked it up and I picked up the book and I thought, "Y'know, there are some great stories here but there's a lot to read and I'm not in that place in my life where I can do it."
The thing that interested me most was I wanted to know what happened <i>after</i> the book. I wanted to know what happened to the people whose lives had been destroyed by this and find out if they were able to recover? Were there any ongoing consequences or impact? And understand how the scandal changed the lives of the individuals who were involved; but, also their families and the community as a whole. That's really what interested me in following this story: trying to find out the consequences and what happened to these people, which is why it took us such a long time to make the film because it was an incredibly intensive research process trying to find everyone that was connected to the case. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9a5FY93qr_M4jsv6KKbXTKVH0H5ZzOJqvXVZAHtFV1RT5uksYZ2xxn0gf67EGOgAnveI8brN4-rLefkC3SDQ5IHKSb1_D-XEVRHZM9EjxbpBY6ddlA-uo23JIxar1OT00ZUDjQscyufP6HeAPF4SD7f1mplD28BhkUkT56COUFk7O0FTtg/s2477/@_Boys%20of%20Boise%20convictions.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="754" data-original-width="2477" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9a5FY93qr_M4jsv6KKbXTKVH0H5ZzOJqvXVZAHtFV1RT5uksYZ2xxn0gf67EGOgAnveI8brN4-rLefkC3SDQ5IHKSb1_D-XEVRHZM9EjxbpBY6ddlA-uo23JIxar1OT00ZUDjQscyufP6HeAPF4SD7f1mplD28BhkUkT56COUFk7O0FTtg/w640-h194/@_Boys%20of%20Boise%20convictions.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />We actually found and determined the outcomes of all of the men who were prosecuted as well as most of the young accusers. We found out what happened to them and their families.
We also tracked people not just through time, through 50 years, but many of them had moved away, scattered, so we had to find out what happened to them, approach them, and ask them to talk. The thing that got me most was the idea of the injustice, that people were prosecuted over something that was really out of their control. They were prosecuted for being gay and that—as a gay man—was something that I found really frightening. I wanted to know more about the cases. Originally, it wasn't going to be a documentary. I thought maybe I'd write a play or a screenplay and I got to thinking, "If I'm going to write a screenplay or if I'm going to write a play, I'm going to want to do the research to make it as accurate as possible." Because I wasn't living in the 1950s, I would want it to be as accurate and fair as possible. Then I got to thinking, "If I'm going to do all this research, hell, I work in TV news, maybe I should make a documentary about it." The reason why I did it when I did was because I knew at that point the 45-year anniversary was approaching. I knew that many of these people were maybe already dead and—if they weren't dead—I wanted to get them to talk as soon as possible, as quickly as possible. Having watched the film, you can appreciate that one of the people interviewed in the film passed away during the process of making the film.
<b> </b><p></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcVD_bH1whwvXogKrsKHhaso6cbrA9zzXfTLtiRRZhcd7WTb2IjXFMsQCpF3VIsqgNq3DTFqhyc06-EmNNGo-CqxrFisc2RpCyWsbc27NqBAbK44AuRjXVcOZ6Kq5-JyuPmux8d_Ok2c4h5c9zQLZI10Wx_J3_wubZLUkyMrADep5W6E7DQ/s343/@_Mel_Dir.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcVD_bH1whwvXogKrsKHhaso6cbrA9zzXfTLtiRRZhcd7WTb2IjXFMsQCpF3VIsqgNq3DTFqhyc06-EmNNGo-CqxrFisc2RpCyWsbc27NqBAbK44AuRjXVcOZ6Kq5-JyuPmux8d_Ok2c4h5c9zQLZI10Wx_J3_wubZLUkyMrADep5W6E7DQ/w291-h400/@_Mel_Dir.jpg" width="291" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: That underscores the importance of recording these testimonials. One of the film's true highlights are the absolutely fascinating audio tapes of Mel Dir.</b> <p></p><p>Randal: Thank you, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Ned_Katz" target="new">Jonathan Ned Katz</a>!
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I was impressed. There's an effective juxtaposition that goes on in your documentary, in that you have staged many of the comments—envoicing journalistic sources—but you've mixed this recreated material with verbatim recordings of an interview with Mel Dir.</b> </p><p>Randal: I think that interview was conducted here in San Francisco. Mel Dir was the man who was arrested here in San Francisco. Even though the cases are called The Boys of Boise, the scandal ended in San Francisco with Mel Dir's arrest. The Sheriff came from Boise all the way to San Francisco to arrest Mel Dir. Mel Dir was taken back and you heard the quote Mel Dir makes in the film where the San Francisco police officer said, "We wouldn't go to Oakland to make an arrest like this." Thank you Jonathan Ned Katz for sharing the interview with us and letting us use it, letting me know about it, but also for the work that he's done. It's a tremendous contribution to our history as LGBT people. The remarkable thing was Mel Dir was one of the easiest people to track down and find. He was one of the first people [to pop up] just searching online. However, he passed away right after I started work on the film. He had passed away right after we found the address; just a couple of months earlier he had passed away. Because of the work of Jonathan Ned Katz, we now have this vivid, historical document and Mel Dir tells it like it is. He describes the experience of being in the Number One cell house and to hear the story of being brought back to Boise and appearing in court.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4hoNAJfUocTj68I7sSKfhLrbavmrUCDXO68P49NT35xUHrTiX2D07XIRLM_co0pC5YrreTKNiEBRYSI-zkY3lX_2CIVhT5xcA1nCJcQwRU5ZksRsicBpEPrOyeTM_bcNeaUiQGFTqGDrA-THgilI02BHJn8M5inO1XfuVaBMOUh92nsupg/s411/@_Peter%20Boag%20WSU.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="411" data-original-width="350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4hoNAJfUocTj68I7sSKfhLrbavmrUCDXO68P49NT35xUHrTiX2D07XIRLM_co0pC5YrreTKNiEBRYSI-zkY3lX_2CIVhT5xcA1nCJcQwRU5ZksRsicBpEPrOyeTM_bcNeaUiQGFTqGDrA-THgilI02BHJn8M5inO1XfuVaBMOUh92nsupg/s320/@_Peter%20Boag%20WSU.jpg" width="273" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: <i>The Fall of '55</i> is also an insightful glimpse into the Cold War rhetoric that determined public attitudes regarding gender at the time. <a href="https://www.glapn.org/670005PeterBoag.html" target="new">Peter Boag</a>, who provides commentary in your film and wrote a contextual foreward for the reprint of <i>The Boys of Boise</i>, describes how this cold war rhetoric influenced the way homosexuals thought of themselves or how they were thought of by mainstream culture. Blackmail was one of the most effective tools to maintain normativity at that time. I can recall as a teen growing up in Twin Falls the sniggering that went on regarding any mention of <i>The Boys of Boise</i> and becoming aware of how blackmail was the <i>modus operandi</i> by which so many gay men's lives were ruined. I remember making the conscious connection then—really before coming out became the political act it did in the mid-70's—that I would not be put in a position where I could be blackmailed and that the only way to do that would be to be honest about my sexuality. You can't be blackmailed if you're out. That Cold War mentality that was so strong in Southern Idaho—perhaps throughout the whole country but very much so in Southern Idaho—is it still somewhat like that in Idaho? Some of your interviewees—Ron Bess comes to mind—made comments suggesting attitudes towards gays haven't budged much. Did you meet resistance filming this documentary?</b> <p></p><p>Randal: In the process of trying to research the film, we actually met with a lot of resistance. The prosecutor of these cases [Blaine Evans] hung up the phone when I called him the first time, which was just shocking to me; he was involved in these cases. That was just one example of the resistance we faced. A lot of people—when we were doing the research—still didn't want to talk about it. It may be different now. I hope it's different now. I really hope that the film can be used as a springboard for a dialogue about what happened. That's why we tried to go with an extremely fair approach to the film. We faced a lot of resistance trying to get the people connected to the case to talk. It was really quite frustrating a lot of times. With [regard] to the Cold War mentality, Boise <i>per se</i> isn't necessarily as conservative but the greater Boise area is still very conservative and these cases—which, as you said, were snickered at—were still being snickered at 50 years later, although people didn't know as much about it because so much time had passed, so much rumor and innuendo.
<b> </b></p><p><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNS51nvepexTfqKrjnTj-cqJOzKwClPUcsumdz5ZNsFYsarnd_Sz5EhEFfobfdceHOgRkuy0DxdZX2wmT63P63cMaoI0NMQ6KWL-puYNrh3R2SBqIpCnvEJy9hzSXmuSWSsjFAhCA7VbBhNJWH2oZbp23fyHI_dYB-seeGNajCJsg9nqdC9g/s960/@_Crucible,%20The.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="760" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNS51nvepexTfqKrjnTj-cqJOzKwClPUcsumdz5ZNsFYsarnd_Sz5EhEFfobfdceHOgRkuy0DxdZX2wmT63P63cMaoI0NMQ6KWL-puYNrh3R2SBqIpCnvEJy9hzSXmuSWSsjFAhCA7VbBhNJWH2oZbp23fyHI_dYB-seeGNajCJsg9nqdC9g/s320/@_Crucible,%20The.jpg" width="253" /></a></b></div><b>Guillén: One of the things that struck me about your film is its <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Crucible" target="new"><i>Crucible</i></a>-like atmosphere with young people pointing fingers and ruining the lives of adults; but also, the politicized usage of children by conservatives to advocate and further homophobic agendas.</b> <p></p><p>Randal: That's exactly how I see it. Let me tell you a story that I think is appropriate to this. For the latter part of making the film, I worked at a TV station in Boise for three years, which is an extremely conservative TV station. When I was working at the station, there had been a number of alleged enticements of children and the station was gung-ho going at it gangbusters, not using any critical judgment, because that was what was pushing the hot buttons: keeping your children safe; protecting the community; keeping our nice wholesome community safe. There is still a little bit of that there; but, I don't think that's necessarily a Boise thing. It just comes with conservatism in general; the idea of trying to exploit these moral causes in order to push some sort of agenda. That continues to go on. When I was young growing up in Nampa, I was a Republican. In junior high, my ninth grade year, I went and volunteered at the local Republican office making phone calls and hammering yard signs, so I've been there.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: For me, what's problematic about the Boise story is that, yes, the "keeping children safe" rhetoric was being used to further certain political agendas, but the reality is—and your documentary implies—these selfsame "children" were baiting gay guys for money. We might call these kids "trade" today.</b> </p><p>Randal: I don't know that they would have necessarily seen themselves that way. They were a [few] poor kids who found a way to make money. The teenagers who were involved with the initial arrests had previous criminal records. One of them killed his father. These were kids who had tough lives and they found a way to make some money. I know that one of them, it impacted his life forever. I don't want to get into a lot of detail in order to protect him, but, his name was mentioned in the book—Gerassi didn't use a pseudonym—he was married when the book came out; his in-laws didn't know that he had been part of this scandal until the book came out; and he said it led to his divorce. He has since remarried and has led a straight life. It was an opportunity for him to make some money and—you're right—it was a lot like <i>The Crucible</i>. Some young people made some accusations and it just got out of control.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: That quality of the witchhunt was emphasized in your documentary. Could this happen again? Have we evolved as a subculture so that we can't be blackmailed by guilt?</b> </p><p>Randal: Shame. Shame is the word I use. And the shame was not just for the people directly connected to the cases. Let me share a story about another man who was living in San Francisco [during the investigation]. I found him and talked to him on the phone and we had a very nice conversation. I approached him about the idea of coming back to Boise. We would pay for his transportation to come back to Boise to do an interview for the film. He seemed like he might be interested. We had a nice enough conversation that I was willing to ask him that. The next day I get a phone call from his sister saying, "Don't ever call my brother again. Leave him alone." Because for her it was still an extraordinarily painful thing. So the shame goes well beyond just the people who were directly connected to the families. Also, there are still many people in the community who feel a sense of shame over how the community reacted.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The thing about shame that I've long noted is that it's the flipside of pride. That's why I ask you whether or not this could happen again now because—in the midst of the queer community celebrating Pride Week here in San Francisco—we define and defend ourselves by pride. I suspect it would be much more difficult to capitalize upon shame as was done in the mid-50's.</b> </p><p>Randal: It would completely be possible for something like this to get going, but it would never reach the scale of the Boys of Boise. And the reason for that is that in 1955 there were two TV stations in Boise, there was the one newspaper, there were no free papers or anything like that, and everybody read the newspaper. The newspaper had a lot of influence. They had these fiery, emotional editorials getting the community riled up. Something like that couldn't happen again. Also, positively, humanity has evolved and we now have greater critical thinking skills. Americans tend to understand that, yes, there are homosexuals and there are a lot of other people who aren't like them and you may like them, you may not like them, but it seems like things are improving. I would absolutely hope that nothing like this could ever happen again and I certainly don't think it would happen to this extent.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Let's talk about how you've structured this documentary. You employed voiceovers, conducted one-on-one interviews, and incorporated archival footage; it's textured with multiple levels of information. How did you go about shaping all this material?</b> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZucBW29-QI3XZLaD4F6CnynlQqq9dIfaoi2G94gBM0q96tmEOWJwd0HsH38QbrZSgXCh4VUc-KSIZsy1N0X8HC_jI_2ZNHz3zZZ5zt0ZmQgGt2T15_I657y1GH2BkvOzSBoTQbu5-uVY45-uignKqh8E6qVMKNZQrZtwk7IOrpBSHQ7srw/s2048/Idaho%20Statesman%20story.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1585" data-original-width="2048" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvZucBW29-QI3XZLaD4F6CnynlQqq9dIfaoi2G94gBM0q96tmEOWJwd0HsH38QbrZSgXCh4VUc-KSIZsy1N0X8HC_jI_2ZNHz3zZZ5zt0ZmQgGt2T15_I657y1GH2BkvOzSBoTQbu5-uVY45-uignKqh8E6qVMKNZQrZtwk7IOrpBSHQ7srw/w400-h310/Idaho%20Statesman%20story.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>Randal: I would have loved it to be the kind of documentary where we didn't have to have narration. We had to structure it the way we did partially out of necessity. We had to use the resources we had. In telling the story, I didn't want it to jump around chronologically. I wanted the scandal to unfold the way it actually happened to try to give the viewers as much of a sense of living the scandal as possible, where it starts with the arrests and then it continues to build and gets more intense and then the consequences of it. I wanted—as well as I could—to recreate [the scandal] and give people the feeling of what the tension was like in the community and the constant editorials. So we hit the newspapers frequently with these editorials and headlines because that's what the people of Boise were experiencing. They were having it hammered at them twice a day because at the time the <i>Idaho Statesman</i> had two versions. In constructing [the documentary], I wanted to do it in a way where it would build up; where—as June Schmitz in the documentary describes it—it would be "an avalanche."
We also made the choice early on that we would be as fair as possible with this. I recognize that lives were destroyed by this. I understand how painful it was for these people who lived through this, who had to endure it. The woman who called and said, "Leave my brother alone", I felt great empathy for her because I understand how painful it was for her. Because of that, we didn't include his story in the film. We chose carefully what stories we had based largely on people's willingness to cooperate. There are even more incredible stories of this scandal that could be told but we chose to focus on primarily the ones where we had involvement or where we had to dovetail off of another story. For instance, the West Point cadet—
<b> </b><p></p><p><b>Guillén: Frank Jones. A sad story.</b> </p><p>Randal: A very sad story. I find it deeply moving. Very painful.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I found his story moving because, admittedly, towards the beginning of the documentary I didn't much like him. I saw him as one of the <i>Crucible</i>-like informers; but, by the end of the film, you had humanized him and—as audience—I was stunned by how the scandal destroyed his life. He was a true victim of consequences.</b> </p><p>Randal: We had to include his story because we had the interview with Mel Dir and it dovetailed off the Mel Dir story. I would have loved to have expanded on his story. There were a lot of painful details about it that we just couldn't include [out of respect to his family].
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: The other victim of guilt by association was Jack Butler, the psychiatrist who was brought in to Boise to assess these cases.</b> </p><p>Randal: And was booted out of the Mormon Church.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: That was amazing to me; that the taint of this scandal was so pervasive it could damage the lives of those conducting the investigation.</b> </p><p>Randal: This was a long process and it was difficult at times to soldier on, to continue to do this, because this was something I basically devoted essentially my life savings to and my weekends and evenings, my vacation time (which was when I came to San Francisco to do research for the film or when we went to Southern California to do research and interviews). I was working the TV news business at the time. During the final editing process of the film, I was working at my day job at least 50 hours a week and then coming back to do this. What motivated me to keep going was the power of the stories, particularly the Alty Travelstead story, which had never been told before. That story is so moving in and of itself, it just needed to be told, and then to know that he had passed away, I knew then that I had to continue to soldier on and make the film; it had to be done. These stories had to be told. They can't be forgotten and I hope the film can be used as a learning tool. I also hope that this scandal can be revisited by future filmmakers, playwrights or authors.
<i> </i></p><p><i>[Of interest is that <a href="https://variety.com/2006/film/reviews/the-fall-of-55-1200515091/" target="new">Variety</a>'s Ronnie Scheib did not share Randal's commitment to these individuals. Scheib states Randal's interviews with Alty Travelstead solicited commentary that was "peripheral to the chronicled events" and "somewhat insipid." For my money, Scheib completely missed the point about the consequential ramifications of the scandal and how it damaged the lives of those "peripheral to the chronicled events."]</i>
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Was it in your capacity as a TV journalist that you were able to access the archival footage? How did you secure that footage?</b> </p><p>Randal: In the process of putting this all together, there's a lot of serendipity. The puzzle pieces were being handed as if it were predestined that they be there. All the black and white footage of Boise was a 1955 Chamber of Commerce film. Some filmmakers had apparently gone from city to city around the country doing these Chamber of Commerce films and they had been in Boise in October of 1955. That footage of Boise in 1955 of the Ada Theater, of the police officers standing in front of the Police Department, that moves down and plants squarely on the city councilman whose son was involved in the scandal was all shot the month the scandal happened. All of that black and white footage came from the same source. That Chamber of Commerce film was discovered in the Egyptian Theater [formerly the Ada Theater] by two gay men who run the theater. They found this film and donated it to the historical society right when we were in the process of editing the film. When I looked at it, I about fell out of my seat! [It] was completely relevant: the police department, these shots of [Boiseans] throughout town. That this film existed was just remarkable. </p><p>We were working on this film with a very tight budget. I invested between $30-$40,000 of my own money and we solicited donations from the community; the Friends of <i>The Fall of '55</i>—approximately 100 people from Boise and throughout the country—donated about $10,000 to help finish the film. They held house parties, did silent auctions and put together a premiere celebration at one of Boise's LGBT bars. I am deeply in their debt and humbled by their belief in me and our film. But it was still a very tight budget. That's why—later in the film [when] we talk about Mike Wallace of CBS News coming to town—we don't have shots of it because we couldn't afford to license them. If we did, I would have loved it. </p><p>Most of the color [archival] footage that we have in the film, I [secured from] June Schmitz ("It starts with a 'Q' "). I had written out the script and I was racking my brain about where we could find footage, how we could cover this, what were we going to do? I went to June Schmitz and I said, "June, do you have any photographs? Do you have any home movies or anything?" She said, "Home movies? I got 100 cans of home movies." And she did! She had a 100 cans of home movies because in the 1950's she was going around constantly with her Super8 camera around her neck. She shot [these home movies] in film and the color is so rich and vibrant. The shots looking down Capitol Boulevard to the Capitol Building or her performing in the club, again, I had written about her being a lounge singer and here she had footage from the era of her doing it! She actually had the 1955 Fairyland Parade. I about fell out of my chair. I was just stunned. Again, it was like God had opened up the puzzle bag and all the pieces were falling out. This goes here and this goes here and this goes here. It was like it was meant to be. Most of the color footage we got from June Schmitz, including most of the shots of San Francisco, like driving over the Golden Gate Bridge; she had shot it. The cable car going down the hill? June Schmitz shot it. Shots from Mexico? Thank you, June!
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: So now that <i>The Fall of '55</i> is starting to make its festival rounds, what are your hopes for the film? Do you have distribution?</b> </p><p> Randal: We actually have distribution through Frameline.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Excellent!</b> </p><p>Randal: We still have to sign the paperwork but I'm comfortable with Frameline. They have a tremendous mission. Frameline knows what they're doing. This is the kind of film that's right up Frameline's alley. They understand how to market a film like this because it's sort of a niche film. Well, most people would perceive it to be a niche film, though I personally believe it has a much broader appeal because this could have happened anywhere.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I agree. As we were discussing earlier, the Cold War mentality, the <i>Crucible</i>-like theatrics, lift <i>The Fall of '55</i> above mere queer history.</b> </p><p>Randal: The '50s were not a good time for LGBT people. Everyone thinks of the '50s as being <i>Ozzie & Harriet</i> time and for LGBT people it was a very difficult time. Young people need to know that, understand that and respect that. With Frameline being the premiere Lesbian and Gay festival, it has tremendous contacts within the festival industry. We showed at Newfest in New York City and Reeling in Chicago, plus some regional festivals.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: How have audiences reacted?</b> </p><p>Randal: People have had different responses. In New York City, for instance, when we had the shot of Idaho's tallest building towards the end of the film, people laughed.
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: I laughed when Byron Johnson said people always thought he was from the Midwest because they didn't know the difference between Iowa and Idaho. That used to drive me crazy when I was an Idahoan.</b> </p><p>Randal: Boise—especially in the 1950's—was a tremendously isolated place. The Interstate Highway system didn't exist. If you wanted to fly out of Boise, you'd be flying on a propeller-driven DC5. It would take 2-2½ hours to fly anywhere, let alone to drive anywhere. A community that's as isolated as that being thrust into the national spotlight in newspapers around the country, in <i>Time</i> magazine, you can imagine how difficult it would be for those people to be in the spotlight for this embarrassing shameful investigation.
<b> </b></p><p><b><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg06ESo2tIfdCj7BVGZjiwkquEs8kmoecbArMTt1Kd_y8BgfwKYsrmxSTMV2OwOE5T6-u8zkt8zXfdEBPQ_1ZQqO8GXCpmIquQKkxQ-O28ciUGosL3uju-wsQvBzawoR2_iWQmLOCtoSrc4yWD40xC1EfU6O5wXjrK8Jt8hEOjpQYxeZYp3nw/s482/@_Virta,%20Alan_%20Jeremy%20Lanningham.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg06ESo2tIfdCj7BVGZjiwkquEs8kmoecbArMTt1Kd_y8BgfwKYsrmxSTMV2OwOE5T6-u8zkt8zXfdEBPQ_1ZQqO8GXCpmIquQKkxQ-O28ciUGosL3uju-wsQvBzawoR2_iWQmLOCtoSrc4yWD40xC1EfU6O5wXjrK8Jt8hEOjpQYxeZYp3nw/s320/@_Virta,%20Alan_%20Jeremy%20Lanningham.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Artist: <span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql oi732d6d ik7dh3pa ht8s03o8 a8c37x1j fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v b1v8xokw oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto">© </span>Jeremy Lanningham<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Guillén: Tell me a little bit about <a href="https://scholarworks.boisestate.edu/idlgbtq_oral_histories/29/" target="new">Alan Virta</a>, the historical adviser on the project.</b> </p><p>Randal: The way I got involved with an historian—Alan Virta—was because Alan met Jonathan Ned Katz at a history conference a number of years before I met him and Alan started thinking, "Well, I can do something with gay history too." So Alan actually began researching. When I met him he had done gay research for a slideshow that he does. He's taken it throughout the state, [received] an award from the ACLU, it's tremendous work, so I actually called in sick to work one day when I saw in the newspaper that his slideshow was going to be coming to town. This was when I was thinking about doing a film and here was somebody who had done a project on gay history in Idaho. I thought, "This is someone I need to meet."
<b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: Interesting. I would love to see his slideshow on gay history in Idaho. Not too many people know that the Castro Florescence in the '70s received a tremendous boost of energy from Idaho queers—namely Scotty Williams—who had moved here from Twin Falls. He helped start some of the main businesses here in the Castro and elsewhere in San Francisco—Fanny's, Burton's, Ivy's—all these places that were hubs for the gay urban populace in the mid-'70s. I got my start in San Francisco because Scotty hired me as a dishwasher (for one night!) at Fanny's. I was such a lousy dishwasher that he instantly promoted me to busboy. His contribution to what was "gay" at that time was indispensable and marks him as an unsung hero in my book.</b> </p><p>Randal: During the midst of the scandal [in the mid-'50s] there were a lot of former Boiseans living in San Francisco, people who moved here. There was a gay couple who moved away who had been together over 50 years. I went to the funeral for one of them. I wish they would have talked. They essentially ran what I would call a home for refugees. Their friends who had fled Boise, they let a number of them stay with them.
There's a man who I talked to who was living here at the time, he had an emotional story that I wish I could have included in the film. He was a Latino. One of the few in his community [who was gay]. He opened the newspaper one day and saw that there had been more arrests. I think this was after [Joe Moore] the banker had been arrested. He ended up not going to work that day because he was frightened. Well, there's a knock at the door. He lived upstairs in a rooming house and the landlady opened the door and there were two men in suits there wanting to talk to him. She knew he was there home from work but she lied and said she didn't know where he was and she thought he was at work. That gave him a chance to hide out in town. He hid out at a movie theater and he hid out at the post office for a while, waiting for his family to pick him up. His family picked him up and they were driving back home and the father said to the mother in Spanish—because it looked like their son was asleep—"What's 'gay'?" They got back to the house and they ended up all three of them holding each other and crying because he's now become a fugitive from justice. They drove him via back roads to Ontario because the Boise bus station and the train station were under surveillance. He got on a bus and came down to San Francisco. </p><p>When the Sheriff came to San Francisco to arrest Mel Dir, he also questioned this man, but he didn't bring him back to Boise because he knew the man's father. So the Sheriff let him go. This man then lived in San Francisco for 30 years before moving back to Boise. But talking about this story, he still is overcome with emotion thinking about it. I wish he would have talked but he lives in a small town again with shame. He left San Francisco and went back to living with a sense of shame and what will people think and rumors and innuendo. It's still happening in small towns. <b> </b></p><p><b>Guillén: It saddens me to know that's still happening. I had a gay friend from high school who died of AIDS and—when I phoned home to express my condolences to his mother—she begged me not to tell anyone for fear that it would make it difficult for her grandchildren. It broke my heart that he was buried under six feet of shame.</b> </p><p>Randal: I approached the scandal [the way I did] because I understand that sense of shame in a different way. My father died of AIDS 20 years ago. May was the anniversary of his death. We lived with that sense of shame for a long time, and carried it around, because when he died back in 1987 it was still very [stigmatized]; Ronald Reagan had just gotten around to saying the word. It was early on and my family lived with this sense of shame for a long time. So—in telling this story—I wanted to make sure that I was fair to these people because I understand what it's like to have this sense of shame about something that's happened in your past, about something that somebody else has done that you can't control. I understand why it's so painful for them and I have tremendous empathy for them. That is why I created the film I did. That is why I created <i>The Fall of '55</i>. I wanted to make sure it was not going to exploit these people or these cases in any way but still not pull any punches in telling what really happened, thoroughly researching, going through the newspapers, using the letters from people—especially those prison letters, which were so moving—and because of my own background it was important to me to tell this story in a fair way. Dealing with the sense of shame was something that I buried and repressed. Even though I'm gay myself, it was something that took me a long time to get past. </p><p>[Originally published June 28, 2007.]
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22268434.post-16245487542499207912022-03-22T00:06:00.000-07:002022-03-22T00:06:03.175-07:00REVIEW: DEER HOOF ON RIVER COBBLES (2022)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOXpKuFs0rdgWvNczLbOkhcWvtPw7sELoJ4gi_jFJJrdMNkMyhI2f0Z-8jo7ELjW1est20GLsjvIoBC7i-sgjDq3_-vJnNQ2BWuXVZKuBmF8x8NLj_vdOYMsK8lCx6albZWFK4_aWKXFPkvu9iZKMixiK2HqdNu3dpKN6WLwdGSAtkT73cA/s1620/Abel,%20Walker_Deer%20Hoof%20on%20River%20Cobbles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1620" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIOXpKuFs0rdgWvNczLbOkhcWvtPw7sELoJ4gi_jFJJrdMNkMyhI2f0Z-8jo7ELjW1est20GLsjvIoBC7i-sgjDq3_-vJnNQ2BWuXVZKuBmF8x8NLj_vdOYMsK8lCx6albZWFK4_aWKXFPkvu9iZKMixiK2HqdNu3dpKN6WLwdGSAtkT73cA/w325-h400/Abel,%20Walker_Deer%20Hoof%20on%20River%20Cobbles.jpg" width="325" /></a></div><p>Dendrochronology is the word that comes to mind in assessing poet Walker Abel’s body of work in anticipation of the April 22, 2022 release of his fourth volume of poetry <a href="https://bit.ly/3irKj3en" target="new"><i><b>Deer Hoof on River Cobbles</b></i></a>, to be published by Homebound Publications. The science or technique of dating events, environmental change, and archaeological artifacts by using the characteristic patterns of annual growth rings in timber and tree trunks—the history of wood, if you will—is, for me, an apt characterization of the unfolding growth of Abel’s vision and the maturation of his craft.</p><p>You could say that Walker and I met each other as saplings in mid-December 1986, when he attended Gary Snyder’s seminar “The Girl Who Went Off With A Bear”, sponsored by the C.G. Jung Institute of San Francisco (where I was a full scholar at the time). The seminar’s venue was the historic Firehouse at Fort Mason in San Francisco. At that particular event, I was helping out the Institute’s public programs by passing out box lunches to the participants. When I realized that Walker had not pre-purchased a box lunch and was going to go without, I offered him one for free. He was grateful, we exchanged contact information, and thus began what has been without question one of the main epistolary friendships of my life.</p><p>In what Walker later characterized as “a daring overture”, I wrote Walker after the seminar, stating: “My responsibilities to the seminar kept me from having much time to converse with you, but—in the brief time that I did—I felt that words were nothing more than small berries on a twig of juniper for you, and that twig hidden in a forest of junipers.” He confirmed in his response: “You are right … about my relation to words. I don’t say much. And I do emulate the wordless ways of nature, be it creek or juniper berry.”</p><p>During the ensuing years, Walker shared his freshly drafted poems with me as he maneuvered through his education. I even read—and learned a lot—from his Masters Thesis “The Poet and Nature: Emerson, Whitman, And An American Spiritual Path From the Perspective Of Transpersonal Psychology.” His eventual employment with the Sierra Institute allowed him to put his wilderness psychology into practice. Each year’s worth of poems, each achieved goal, registered as a tree-ring indicating his growth as a writer. It was intriguing to watch the typewritten manuscript of <i><b>Runes In Present Mountains</b></i>, which he offered me to read, transform (albeit amended) into his first published volume of poetry, <b><i>The Uncallused Hand</i> (2014)</b>, which won the 2014 Poetry Prize from Homebound Publications, went on to become a Finalist in the Foreword Reviews 2014 Book of the Year and to win Gold in the 2015 Nautilus Awards. <b><i>The Uncallused Hand</i></b> was followed by <b><i>Stories Dreamed from Dust and Distant Light</i> (2017)</b> and <b><i>Five Hearts of Aloneness</i> (2019)</b>. How pleased I was to see Walker achieve his audience. He was no longer small berries on a twig of juniper hidden in a forest of junipers.</p><p>Which brings me to the tree ring closest to the bark. At a time when so much of the world has lost its previous meaning and I struggle to retain my footing in our contemporary moment—let alone set out towards an uncertain future—troubled by pandemic waves, political-corporate corruption, and heart-wearying environmental degradation, Walker’s most recent collection of poems—<b><i>Deer Hoof on River Cobbles</i></b>—offers redemptive hope to my apocalyptic mind by suggesting that I remain in the power of the present moment, to not wrestle with meaning, neither meaning forlorn and lost, nor meaning feared and anticipated.
<b><i> </i></b></p><p><b><i>Deer Hoof</i></b> sagely begins with versed contemplations on how Walker recommends his poems be read. Etymologically, contemplation is an act of being “together with”, “near”, “by”, “beside” a piece of ground that has been consecrated, and that is meant to be used to build an edifice, a “temple”, to honor and worship the spirit of that place. The demarcation of a space that becomes sacred enough upon which to build a temple, however, sprang from much simpler origins. A space that was marked out for observation—let’s say a hilltop—leant ancient augurs opportunity to portend or prognosticate towards bad or towards good. From that hilltop they could have a commanding view of birds in flight and craft their predictions. Should their crafted predictions become reliable, that marked-off piece of land, that hilltop, gained sacred credence, earning it the stature of a <i>temenos</i>, a precinct set apart from the ordinary, and an eligible site for an altar, and eventual temple, to worship the spirit of place. But before becoming too enmired or wedded to that religiosity, I would suggest that the <i>temenos</i> was deemed sacred simply because that was where one could go to be one’s true self. It’s in that inflection that I approach the act of contemplation, which I understand as being in the temple of one’s own being, especially as reflected by nature, or rather as being understood through the evidence of nature. I’ve long thought of Walker as an augur poet able to read nature. His unique gift, however, is that he can mark off and have a dialogue with the sacred from any point of observation, implying that the sacred is not within any one person or any parcel of land, but rather in the interaction between person and land, and most assuredly between a poet and land, which is to say nature. Among his proposed contemplations, he offers: </p><p>1.
<i> </i></p><p><i>Like listening to instrumental music </i></p><p><i>or gazing at abstract or impressionistic art </i></p><p><i>can I notice what effects come to me </i></p><p><i>rather than pushing </i></p><p><i>to figure out what the poem means?</i> </p><p>2.
<i> </i></p><p><i>If each poem is its own being </i></p><p><i>like a plant or animal </i></p><p><i>can I let the presence and the gestures of that being </i></p><p><i>have their place in the world— </i></p><p><i>something arisen out of Mystery </i></p><p><i>representative not of a life </i></p><p><i>but of Life?</i> </p><p>Rather than have his poems allude to something other than what they are through ascribed and parlayed meaning, Walker suggests that poems exist intact within their own structure, their own being, and that—if fortunate, if attentive, if disciplined—the reader can breathe with the poems, match the rhythm of the poem’s breath, to earn the relaxed company of the poem. He asks us to be with his poems and to take part in what he describes as their “expansive moment”. In mastering the description of nature, or his impressions of nature, Walker’s poems simulate somatic certainties about nature. Although people might have varying cultural (<i>i.e.</i>, mental and ideological) attitudes about nature, the effect of nature on the human body translates universally. Across the board, witnessing a supreme sunset can calm and soothe the body, or hazarding an extreme storm can instill fear and awe in the body. He quotes Mary Oliver: “You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” By striving to capture a clear description of nature—rather than trying to interpret nature—Walker is, in effect, making the images of his poems somatically accessible, thereby minimizing the distance between the poem and the reader. He is playing with the ancient Hindu adage <i>tat tvam asi</i>, thou art that. To become one with the poem, Walker assures us, is to witness the Absolute, by way of nature. This is his <i>temenos</i>, the ground of his poetry. He intimates as such in his poem “Not One, Not Two”: </p><p><i>just a voice clear as the river </i></p><p><i>and paired with it, a listening </i></p><p><i>made of the same water.</i> </p><p>And again in “Everything Happens Of Itself”:
<i> </i></p><p><i>So perfect, the pale green of sagebrush </i></p><p><i>summoned out of light and leaf </i></p><p><i>as though there could be severance </i></p><p><i>between the seer and the seen.</i> </p><p>Through his poems Walker situates his reader, acknowledging the dynamic tension between the “complementarities”, as he terms them, of thought and language, handing the reader the punctuational diagonal slant as if saying, “Here is your oar, Raftsman, navigate your two shores.” This energizing principle of thought and language and how it is structured is what I envision not only as the raftman’s ruddering oar, but a holy hinge, something that connects and utilizes complementarities, allowing movement in two directions, like a hinged door swinging both ways, or the bellows Lao Tzu describes in the quote Walker provides. Further, I like to think of that door as swinging both ways <i>at once</i>. </p><p>In his observations of nature, Walker is sometimes oneiric. Nature becomes so specific, so exact, written in sensuous detail that it borders on the dream-like for escaping the quotidian. But nature itself is an everyday phenomenon so the quotidian speaks more to a failure in language. Just as dreams are often just what they are without our being able to interpret or understand them, nature in its being is the same. You might also notice that Walker avoids speaking about nature in the past tense, but most often keeps it in the present, preferring aspect to tense, often speaking in gerunds. In this way a sacred moment of observation lasts forever because it is continually happening, which one can interpret as a shamanic point of view. If memories are indulged, it is to resuscitate them into the present moment. An invocation of an observation from the past necessarily occurs as a present observation. This allows the inherited wealth of a lifetime worth of observations to thrum through each new observation, but Walker tempers the weight of the cumulative by reducing description to its quintessential truth, as he relays in “Too Die For”:
<i> </i></p><p><i>By stripping time this spare </i></p><p><i>the naked moment </i></p><p><i>hatches out of thinnest air.
</i> </p><p>The poem from which the collection borrows its title has this visionary stanza:
<i> </i></p><p><i>Behind every tree, she said </i></p><p><i>an unseen column of space. </i></p><p><i>That after sticks are gathered </i></p><p><i>beauty burns with fugitive heat.</i> </p><p>That “unseen column of space” imagined “behind every tree” is as much an understanding of how the visible world of phenomena—nature, if you will—relies upon and is informed by something invisible, something which it is not, that again through complementarities advises the poet who cares to pay attention that—if something is corporeal, something must be incorporeal; if something is conceivable, imaginable, thinkable, communicable, definable, expressible, speakable, it remains forever ineffable. No one ever said the poet’s dance with words would be easy. Perhaps the greatest danger is when a poet becomes inflated with his own words. To his credit, Walker is humble in his lucid descriptions. He knows that he doesn’t invent these things; he simply has the heart and the visual acuity to describe them clearly to the best of his craft. He knows that the “unseen column of space” is what makes beauty burn with fugitive heat. Everything we cannot know, we cannot see, cannot express, is what makes what we can know, what we can see, what we can express all the more beautiful for being fleeting, fugacious, fugitive. <i>“Forever you want me to say,”</i> he states in “Lifting Anchor”, <i>“but never is just as true.”</i> Poetry is the human experience expressed at its best. </p><p>There is significant generosity in <i><b>Deer Hoof</b></i>. Segmented into 10 sections, including a preface and an addendum, Walker introduces each section with a pair of selected quotes that he has gleaned from years of reading. The quotes give thematic shape and structure to the individual sections, as well as pay deference to respected influences. Walker has a compelling need to share gem-like snippets of writing from the likes of Lao Tzu, Mary Oliver, Jim Harrison, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt Whitman, Freya Mathews, Galway Kinnell, Pablo Neruda, W.S. Merwin, Wallace Stevens, among others. Apparently, clarity loves company and seeks to share its light. With tender wryness Walker summarizes in “Ars Poetica”:
<i> </i></p><p><i>If it were critiqued </i></p><p><i>that all my poetry </i></p><p><i>amounted to variations of </i></p><p><i>I was here </i></p><p><i>acquiescence </i></p><p><i>would be immediate </i></p><p><i>if allowed to add </i></p><p><i>You were too.</i> </p><p> <b><i>Deer Hoof</i></b> concludes with an addendum—“Poetry, Qigong, and Expansive States of Being”—which, along with the volume’s introductory contemplations, are welcome pieces from the poet offering glimpses into his own craft.
“But the appeal of poetry through the ages,” Walker defines in his addendum “is exactly because, even in its use of words, it can nevertheless be a portal for the reader (or listener) into a moment not limited by language. And an expansive moment, however achieved, has proven itself deeply appealing to humans.” It is his description of this “expansive moment” that I recognize as his <i>temenos</i>, as his sacred ground of being, which he observes faithfully so he can share it with others. </p><p>Earlier, when I was opining that the ineffable delimits all human expression, Walker appears to concur. He understands that “the poet is someone who is able to leave the verbal mind, and enter a space that is in itself wordless and yet out of which words cohere.” In hopes that his poems allow readers to share in their expansive moments, Walker goes one step further and offers qigong techniques that he uses to put himself in a ready state of acceptance. Qigong might not be the technique that works for you, but the poetry of <b><i>Deer Hoof on River Cobbles</i></b> will certainly aim you in a direction that will.
</p>Michael Guillenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15464792353062386579noreply@blogger.com