Reel 86: The Magnificent Andersons

And this, children, is what happens when you don’t hit the “Publish” button. Enormous apologies and thanks for your patience. I’ll make up for it by publishing another episode tonight, since that was the plan anyway.

While I’m at it, I also apologize for the cover art. I couldn’t come up with anything good.

This episode looks at a pair of films by two (unrelated) directors whose last name is Anderson.

We open up with MAGNOLIA (1999), directed by Paul Thomas Anderson. This is a story that doesn’t so much have a plot as it has several plots, each bumping into one another from time to time (think of Altman’s SHORT CUTS, which we talked about back in Episode 34). It’s a fun ride, even if you sit there wondering what one thing has to do with the other. And the answer is: sometimes, not much. But P.T. Anderson sets you up for that early in the film, so you have nothing to complain about. And it’s a long film, so we have a lot to talk about, so don’t complain about that either.

In Part Two we move on to Wes Anderson and his 2001 film THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS, starring Gene Hackman (RIP), Anjelica Huston and a small company of actors as their children and other relatives. The family is in bad shape, until a lie brings them all together. Then it splits them up. Then…well, we presume that if you’re reading this you already knows what happens. But if you haven’t, what are you waiting for? Go see it! Come back and let us know what you thought!

 

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

In Episode 87 we’re keeping our focus (heh) on directors, with two films that are semi-autobiographical in nature. We’ll begin with MEAN STREETS (1973), directed by Martin Scorsese, and finish with DINER (1982), directed by Barry Levenson. 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?