Author: ccradio

Reel 82: In the Style of Ingmar Bergman

In most arts, there’s a fine line between homage and imitation. Go too subtle and nobody gets the references. Go too hard and chances are, you get dinged for pandering.

This time around we land on a couple of films that may do a little of each (in my opinion; Sean might disagree), but they’re good enough that you don’t really care.

We start with Away From Her, a 2006 film written and directed by Sarah Polley. We’ve talked about Polley as an actress in The Sweet Hereafter way, way back in Episode 5. You may recall that the director of that film was Atom Egoyan. In this film Egoyan acted as an executive producer for Polley’s feature directorial debut. In this film Julie Christie is a woman whose Alzheimer’s is advancing to the point where she has to go into a nursing home. Her husband (Gordon Pinsent) has to deal with the guilt, the loneliness, and a few other unexpected consequences of that decision.

From there we go to 2021’s Bergman Island, written and directed by Mia Hansen-Løve. Vicky Krieps and Tim Roth are a filmmaking couple who travel to Faro Island to attend a film screening and generally be Bergman Tourists. Krieps’ character is having trouble working, while Roth’s is very productive. In Bergman style, we see a film-within-a-fim, along with reminders that we, as audience members, are watching a film in progress. If that looks confusing, my apologies. But if you’re familiar with Bergman’s films, you’ll get it as soon as you see this movie.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

Next time around, the influential director is Howard Hawks, and we look at another pair of modern-era films. We begin with Speed (1994), directed by Jan de Bont. (Some people call it The Bus That Couldn’t Slow Down.) Then we move on to The Martian, from 2013 and directed by Ridley Scott. This may be the only science fiction movie that has an inaccuracy in it that has actually turned off some viewers completely. Fie on them, I say.

Join us, won’t you?

Reel 81: In the Style of Hitchcock

Can I just take a moment to sit back and look proudly upon this episode’s cover art? It wasn’t tough to make but I really like the way it came out.

Okay, onward:

It’s often fun to see a film and realize that there’s something about it that reminds you of another filmic work. Maybe it’s a plot point. Maybe it’s the director’s use of the camera. Maybe it’s the overall feel of the thing. And maybe it’s just homage.

In this episode we’re looking at a pair of films that look and feel as though they’d been directed by Alfred Hitchcock. But in fact, Hitchcock was long dead by the time these films were released. (To be fair, he may have been alive while the first one was being made, but still.)

We begin with Diva, a film from 1981 that was directed and co-written by
Jean-Jacques Beineix. Based solely on the title and perhaps the artwork, you’d never have any idea that it’s a taut thriller. It’s got corrupt cops. It has French mobsters. It’s got opera singers and their groupies. It’s got a teenage thief who doubles as a muse for an artist-cum-philosopher. And, because it’s in the style of Hitchcock, it’s got a McGuffin. (MacGuffin? Research says they’re both right, but “Mc” looks better to my eye.) And that’s not all.

From there we jump ahead to 2006 and a film called Tell No One, directed and co-written by Guillaume Canet. This is one based on Hitchcock’s “innocent man” tropes, where a person finds themselves at the center of a big mystery, and everyone thinks he’s the criminal. We spend the film watching him struggle to prove his innocence as the forces around him get closer and closer. Does he know more than he lets on? Is he, in fact, innocent? You’ll be guessing until the very end.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

In our next episode we move from Hitchcock to Bergman. Reel 82 looks at two films made in the style of Ingmar Bergman: Away From Her (2006) and then the aptly-titled Bergman Island (2021). Join us, won’t you?

Reel 80: Political Thrillers

In previous episodes, we’ve dealt with political stories. Most of them involved spies of some kind, or they involved fictional characters overlaid on real-life scenarios.

This time around we have two stories based on real-life events, though there’s a “but” in there. We’ll get to that in a minute. In this episode we’re looking at a pair of political thrillers. We start with The Battle of Algiers, which is from 1966 (though it had several release dates). Now, you hear a title like that and you say, “Oh, war movie.” But the war in this case is taking place in the streets of Algiers, and it involves the events of 1954 through 1957. During that time the French government was fighting off guerilla insurgency. Things are largely stalemated–with incremental escalation the entire time–until the French army moves in. You’ll find yourself unable to figure out who you’re supposed to root for.

From there we move to 1969 and the film Z (or Zed, if you prefer), directed by Costa-Gavras. This is a thinly-fictionalized account of the events surrounding the assassination of democratic Greek politician Grigoris Lambrakis in 1963. We get to see both sides of the dispute in this case, and again it’s tough to tell who the good guys and the bad guys are. It’s a gripping film whose ending is about as cynical as they come. Too bad it’s pretty much what happened.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

Episode 81 will be the first of three episodes where we look at films which are made in a very specific style. Perhaps it’s homage to a director, perhaps it’s unconscious imitation. Find out with us as we review 1981’s Diva, directed by Jean-Jacques Beineix. From there we move to 2006 and Tell No One, directed by Guillaume Canet, both of which appear to be shot in the style of Alfred Hitchcock. Join us, won’t you?

Reel 79: The Dark Side of TV

We don’t often use topics that I chose, but when we do, we have a lot to talk about. Sean and I both love each of this week’s films so unabashedly that both halves of the episode are rather overstuffed, even after editing.

This time around we’re exploring the dark underbelly of media-based popularity, and while both of these films concentrate on television, this could easily be extended to social media. That’s how eerily prophetic these films turned out being, with the exception of a small detail that I’ll get to in a moment.

We start with 1957’s A Face in the Crowd, directed by Elia Kazan and starring Andy Griffith and Patricia Neal. The two are a couple whose lived become intertwined as Griffith’s character increases in popularity from local radio, to national television. It’s a fascinating study in “absolute power corrupts absolutely” and while Kazan gave us the breadcrumbs from the first frame in which we see Griffith’s character, we’re still left with a small “what happens next?” One character, played by Walter Matthau, has an idea, but it’s possible he’s being too cynical.

From there we move on to 1976’s Network, directed by Sidney Lumet and starring Peter Finch, William Holden and Faye Dunaway. Finch is a television news anchorman who, on the cusp of being fired, decides to say exactly what’s on his mind, and the audience reaction is as unexpected as it is sensational for the network brass, who want Finch to keep doing the Angry Prophet of the Airwaves thing. It hardly matters that Finch’s character is starting to spiral in mentally; the executives are willing to exploit him for as long as he’s profitable…and no longer. So what happens next?

Screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky wrote such a perfect satire that people today don’t even seen the satire in it, because it’s so prophetic. As I mentioned, the film got one detail wrong: Media has tapped into conservative grievances and politics rather than the liberal side.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

In our next episode we’ll be looking at a couple of political thrillers from overseas. We start with 1966’s The Battle of Algiers, and move on to Z (or Zed, if you prefer) from 1969. Join us, won’t you?

Reel 78: Love the Film, Hate the Side Effect, Pt. 2

Oddly enough, I hate the artwork on this episode but I love the fact that I was able to match the films’ respective fonts. You win some, you lose some.

We conclude our mini-series with another pair of films that you can’t help but love. Unfortunately, they’ve also had a ripple effect, and the ripples weren’t so great.

We open with Halloween, from 1978. This film was directed by John Carpenter and stars Jamie Lee Curtis. She’s a teenager who has some truly weird adventures in babysitting. It also stars Donald Pleasance as the voice of reason that everyone ignores.

Halloween set many of the horror/slasher film tropes in motion, for sure. But Hollywood has this unfortunate habit where everything has to be bigger, and scarier, and gorier, and just…more. And so other films of the genre suffered specifically because they tried too hard to replicate the original.

From there we jump to 1989’s When Harry Met Sally…, which also set the template for a lot of films in that “star-crossed lovers” rom-com category. The bad news is that the films in its wake didn’t pay enough attention to what made this couple star-crossed, and Hollywood wound up cranking out a lot of films that looked the same, and (perhaps worse) sounded the same, soundtrack-wise, but were clearly not the same in terms of quality.


COMING ATTRACTIONS:

In Reel 79, we’re going to take you on a tour of the dark side of television. We’ll start with A Face in the Crowd (1957), directed by Elia Kazan and starring Patricia Neal and Andy Griffith, in one of the few times you’ll see him as this kind of character. From there we go to 1976 and Network, directed by Sidney Lumet and starring Peter Finch and William Holden. These are two films that were so oddly prophetic that most people today don’t realize they were originally intended to be satire. Join us, won’t you?

Reel 77: Love the Film, Hate the Side Effect

To give you some idea of the lead time we have on our episodes, ponder this: we recorded this episode only a couple of days before President Joe Biden delivered his State of the Union address for 2024. And here we are, with me coincidentally composing this post shortly after Biden announced his withdrawal from his reelection campaign.

I tell you this not to get all political on you, but because it’s important to part of our discussion during the first half of our episode. But I’ll deal with that anon.

In this episode and the next, Sean and I will look at films that are great in many, many ways, but they’ve had an unfortunate side effect that rippled out since its release. And unlike our usual pattern, where the two films have something specific in common, each film has its own bad effect.

Having said that, there’s an interesting connection between the two films that we discuss in this episode; I address it at the start of Part 2. But anyway, we begin with Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, the very first film we’ve reviewed from that magical year of 1939. Directed by Frank Capra and starring James Stewart and Jean Arthur, Stewart is a naif in the wilds of Washington, D.C. where he accidentally finds himself at the center of a political firestorm.

And here’s where Joe Biden comes in: I was struggling to describe just why I thought the filibuster scene in this film gets to me. I understand that filibusters don’t work like that anymore, and more’s the pity. But a couple of nights later, I saw Biden’s State of the Union speech and afterward, when the pundits were doing the commentary afterward, one of them said that Biden is a “romantic” when it comes to America. And I realized that that’s what I was trying to convey. Jefferson Smith—and I, for that matter—are romantics when it comes to America.

But the downside of this is that too much romanticism can bite you in the back when there are other people around who will bend those same rules to a selfish purpose, and that’s what we see in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.

From Washington we go to Baltimore for Part 2 of our episode, to look at 1986’s The Accidental Tourist, directed by Lawrence Kasdan. William Hurt and Geena Davis head up some high-powered talent as Hurt’s character, Macon Leary, navigates his life in the wake of a broken heart, a broken marriage and a broken leg. It’s all tough to do when you’re a popular travel writer. And the unfortunate side effect…well, it’s not what I thought Sean was going to bring up, I’ll tell you that much.

Also of note: when we recorded this, I was barely over a case of Covid, so my voice might be a little crispy here and there.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

Next time around we view a pair of films that are wildly different in both tone and content. We begin with the original Halloween from 1978, directed by John Carpenter and starring Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasance.  From there we go to 1989 for Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally… starring Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal. Join us, won’t you?

Reel 76: The Gangster Film as Allegory

This episode and the previous episode have something in common, besides the word “allegory”. All of these films are specifically anti-Capitalism allegories based in genre films. Last week it was Westerns; this week it’s Gangster films. And the only reason I didn’t put that in the episode title is because that’s a LOT of words to put in your metadata.

We begin with The Long Good Friday (1981), directed by John Mackenzie and starring Bob Hoskins and Helen Mirren. While Hoskins had been around for a bit, this was pretty much his breakout role, and he does a terrific job with it, because he’s Bob Hoskins. Helen Mirren, as well, manages to elevate her role from someone who could easily be so much window dressing. But, of course, we talk about that in Part 1 of the episode. Likewise, I’m sure it’ll come up somewhere in Sean’s review when he posts it here.

From there we go to 1980’s Thief, starring James Caan and Tuesday Weld, and directed by Michael Mann. Now, if you’ve been paying close attention you may have a question. “Hey!” you’ll say. “Don’t you usually review the films in chronological order?” Well, yes, we do. But in this case The Long Good Friday was completed in 1979 and wasn’t released until 1981, so we flipped the order this time around.

At any rate, Caan plays a safecracker trying to get out of his life of crime, and Weld is his wife. And just like his filmic “brother” Al Pacino, just when he thinks he’s out, they pull him back in. But perhaps he knows a way to get out for good.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

I’ve actually been looking forward to this one for awhile, because I unabashedly love both of these films. Unfortunately, they’ve had an interesting side effect that likely wasn’t attended. We start with 1939’s Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and it’s a discussion that could easily have gone on for twice as long but (believe it or not) we DO have some restraint. From there it’s The Accidental Tourist, from 1988, and there’s an interesting story I tell about my experience seeing this one in the theater, long before I moved to the film’s setting of Baltimore. Join us, won’t you?

Getting Social

Sean usually rattles off where we can be found on the Social Media, but I thought it’d be helpful to get it all into one place.

You can email us here. 

The show is on the Book of Face here.

The show’s Instagram feed. 

The show’s Xitter feed (yeah, we still post there, mostly announcements of new episodes)

The show’s BlueSky feed (it’s like Xitter but with way fewer Nazis)

Sean is here pretty frequently. 

Sean lurks here. If you follow him he’ll eventually follow you back. 

Claude’s Book of Face.

Claude’s other podcast.

 

 

Reel 75: The Western as Allegory

Webster’s (online) Dictionary defines allegory as “the expression by means of fictional figures and actions of truths or generalizations about human existence.” How’s THAT for an eye-opener?

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “Wait, isn’t that a metaphor?” No. A metaphor, in its broadest sense, is a symbolic representation of a concept. So while something like “The ship plows through the ocean” is a metaphor, Aesop’s Fables would be an allegory.

Get it? Or have you dozed off already? Well, wake up, because we’ve got a couple of allegorical films for you, and we promise they’ll entertain you. But you knew that already because you’ve seen them and are fully prepared for the spoilers we discuss.

We’ll start with McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971), directed by Robert Altman and starring Warren Beatty and Julie Christie, along with several other actors that will have you saying “Yup, Altman film.” As usual, there’s often many, many things going on in the frame, but you never lose sight of the main action.

In Part 2, we jump to the year 2000 for The Claim, directed by Michael Winterbottom. On the surface, these films couldn’t be more different, and yet they hit many, many of the same notes. And there are specific plot points that are quite similar. Coincidence? Homage? Something else? We’ll leave that for you to decide.

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

Next time around we’ll be looking at another pair of films that have the same allegory going on, but using the Gangster genre instead. We begin with Thief (1981), directed by Michael Mann. From there we move forward only one year to 1982, and John Mackenzie’s The Long Good Friday. Join us, won’t you?

 

Reel 74: The Wages of Greed

Sure, Gordon Gekko told us all that greed, for lack of a better term, is good. And that film sometimes takes the blame for a bunch of unfortunate things that took place in the 1990s.

But there are films out there which note that there’s a darker side to greed (and, to be fair, Wall Street also carries that message; it’s just that people kind of overlooked that part). And in this episode, we look at a pair of films which are years apart from a production standpoint, but whose characters are more or less contemporaneous.

We start with The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), starring Humphrey Bogart, Tim Holt, and Walter Huston and directed by Walter Huston. Anjelica Huston isn’t in this one because she wasn’t born until 1951, I guess. The trio star as three down-and-out Americans who pursue gold in a remote mine in which others have given up hope. They face all kinds of hardships moving to and from the mine, and there are plenty of adventures in between.

From there we go to another film set at about the same time, but on this side of the US/Mexico border, in the American southwest. There Will Be Blood (2007), directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, stars Daniel Day-Lewis as a man who is determined to amass as much as he can, but it’s far too late when he realizes the price he pays for his success.

Both of these films also have the distinction of being source material for memes and pop culture gags. With Sierra Madre, of course, it’s assorted variations on whether or not any stinkin’ badges are necessary, and in Blood it’s the phrase “I drink your milkshake.” In both cases I’d be willing to bet all the money in my pockets (nearly 80 CENTS, friend) that most people don’t know the source material for either of them.

Finally, before I set you free to listen to the episode (because of course you’ve been riveted to this poetry I’ve been cranking out so far), I offer you this bit of music that we talked about during Part 2:


Yes, I will expect you to send me Thank You notes for bringing this music into your life.

COMING ATTRACTIONS: 

Next time, we stick with the Old West with a pair of films that use that genre as an allegory for anti-Capitalist messages. (What?) Don’t worry; it’ll make a lot of sense before we’re through. First we’ll see McCabe and Mrs. Miller (1971), followed by The Claim (2000). Join us, won’t you?