The New York Times has its Holiday Preview issue this week, which means no DVD column — the world will somehow have to do without my thoughts on Sony’s new Sam Fuller set until next week. But in the meantime, I can offer the latest installment in my quixotic campaign to convince the world that Bob Zemeckis is up to something extremely interesting with his performance capture technique. His latest, “A Christmas Carol,” features a stunning 12-minute take — the entire “Ghost of Christmas Past” segment — as well as some of the most elaborate and eye-filling camera movements in a Hollywood picture since the passing of Otto Preminger. Zemeckis’s pursuit of pure mise-en-scene has led him in some promising directions as well as down a few blind alleys, but he’s still in there pitching — and he’s got my gratitude for that. My interview is here.
Blake: I have known plenty of men who were in love with men and also homophobic.
Perhaps no one rose to defend Alan Rudolph because the dismissal was so sweeping – not much room for discussion there.
Tom, didn’t Stewart do a discussion with Manny Farber at Telluride that year?
Gregg, I’m thinking about the relationship between A CHRISTMAS CAROL and BACK TO THE FUTURE and I don’t see it, beyond the Fox character’s transformation from son of depressed nerds to son of cool people with disposable income.
I have to admit that the first time I saw MRS. PARKER AND THE VICIOUS CIRCLE, I disliked it intensely. I watched it again not so long ago and found it devastating. But then, I like – gulp! – THE LONG GOODBYE, so what do I know.
Blake, I knew when I wrote the line about Strawn Bovee’s “faithfulness” that I was beside the point and that you were going to point it out. Shouldn’t have made that silly comment. But you must admit that the fact that you find her Parker mannerisms not annoying while you find JJL’s annoying is thoroughly personnal (shall I say idiosyncratic) and difficult to discuss — especially with someone who hasn’t seen Bovee’s performance. The fact that you never enjoy JJL obviously has a lot to do with your disliking that particular movie which i personnally find very likable.
Re: THE LONG GOODBYE. What do you make of Leigh Brackett’s defense of the adaptation (in TAKE ONE) in which he argued that it is actually faithful to Chandler’s pessimistic views of his hero and society in general? I don’t have any strong feeling myself, I see the movie as a movie, not as an adaptation of the novel (which I like a lot too, but not to the point of hating the film because it is “unfaithful” to Chandler.)
Kevin J. O’Connor’s Hemingway in the tone deaf THE MODERNS must vie with Gary Busey’s portrayal of Joe DiMaggio in INSIGNIFICANCE as one of the worst portrayals of a familiar real-life in film history. A Hemingway (or DiMaggio) without some substnatial measure of dignity is as ruinous a gaffe as a director can allow a performace to descent to. (I’m talking such depths aJonathan Rhys Meyers’ George Amberson Minafer in Arau’s botched remake of AMBERSON or Jack Black’s Carl Denham in Jackson’s botch of KING KONG.)
“The Chill” is indeed a great introduction to Ross MacDonald’s Lew Archer novels and a nice indication of just how excellent the variable MacDonald can be.
Kent, I am glad you changed your mind about MRS PARKER. Such a complete reversal is amazing though — I have nothing in my own experience that approaches it. It would be very interesting to know your views after the first showing and then after the second one.
Maybe you’ve changed. Can we change that much in fifteen years? Probably…
Kent -
Like I said, memory disappears too fast.
Yes, Manny Farber did do the discussion; even worse for my memory, he was in the same van back to the Montrose airport as me and I had the chance to chat with him for an hour or so. He was thrilled by the event, and clearly regarded his early championing of Mann as a highlight of his criticism.
JP, Unless it is a typo Leigh is a “she” as Hawks found out. I like THE LONG GOODBYE and detest WELCOME TO L.A.
An interesting thing about MacDonald is that Chandler bad-mouthed him severely and MacDonald bore a him an active grudge from then on. He would always point to the fact that Chandler could not plot (which he couldn’t). Eventually MacDonald was seen by critics as the brighter talent, though his star faded fairly rapidly after his death.
As for homophobia in MacDonald: I will have to go back and check (and it is something I usually do not miss). I do not remember anything egregious, certainly nothing beyond what is in Hammett and less than what is in Chandler. What annoys some people is the number of times a woman turns out to be the murderer in his books.
Lastly, I will also vouch for THE INSTANT ENEMY (and its lovely coda) and THE ZEBRA-STRIPED HEARSE. The other two I would add are THE FAR SIDE OF THE DOLLAR and BLACK MONEY. MacDonald was the writer who turned the mystery novel in a neo-Aristotlean direction: he once said that Archer was the Greek chorus of his stories. He also regarded THE GREAT GATSBY as the greatest American novel ever written and wrote is Ph.D. dissertation on THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER.
I know that I’ve already got the medal for bold statements today, so I should just rest on my laurels. Nevertheless, let me just add that I think that it is a good thing that we all like different movies and some directors of repute rub us the wrong way and various actors appeal to us beyond their objective technical abilities.
I mean, if we were all the same person, well, it would make for a very confusing phone directory for one thing. And for another, it would make it much more difficult to expand our viewpoints. As long as we don’t fall into the trap of feeling that somebody’s contrary view is a threat to our own, I don’t really see why the farmers and the ranchers CAN’T be friends.
Tony, yes it was a typo — I’ve read Todd’s biography of Hawks (even translated it as a matter of fact) and couldn’t forget Hawks’ being “somewhat shaken when he discovered that it was Miss and not Mister Brackett.”
A typo or a Freudian slip maybe?
I want to second Barry. I think that any cinephile worth her salt at least dislikes, if not outright despises, one grand auteur who is seemingly regarded as anointed by a majority of people. For a person to have equally good feelings about all those directors deemed great seems to me to indicate that, in general, one’s engagement is only so deep. The more a cinephile digs into and examines both movies and himself, the more clear it becomes how complex and nuanced cinephile love is.
But we can all still be friends. For example: I remain Blake’s friend despite my less than sterling feelings about some of the films of John Ford. And I never let it bother me that his dismissal of THE BAREFOOT CONTESSA is one of the most mind-boggling mistakes I have ever known a person of his intelligence and caliber to make.
It really would be boring if we all agreed on what directors and films were the best. But the fun part is how this person or that will pop into mind when watching a filmmaker we know they love. For instance, as I watched BABY DOLL the other night, I thought of Kent and said to myself: “I bet Kent loves the way Kazan piles emotionalism on top of hysteria and then stirs in some spicy hot melodrama for that extra special touch.”
Many many threads ago I asked Mike Grost the same question about the treatment of Fante and Mingo in THE BIG COMBO. Funny how these topics keep recurring.
Kent, since you’ve seen it recently, do you have a clear recollection of Rudolph’s camera setups in THE MODERNS? I have insurmountable problems with O’Connor’s Hemingway (a performance which Rudolph at least consented to, if he didn’t encourage it) and with the way Rudolph presents twenties bohemians as if they were 50′s hipsters, but the film is, as I remember it, fascinating visually, and I have this possibly erroneous feeling that all the shots in many of the interior scenes were filmed without relocating the camera, as if in each of these scenes the separate images were pieces excised from what might have been an elaborate sequence shot done entirely by panning and zooming.
Noel, I’m glad you remember. And regarding Irvin’s TINKER, TAILOR, sometimes I think that you and I are the only people in the world who know who Bernard Hepton is.
A problem with reputiating t least “one grand auteur” is that the baby of at least one terrific film will invariably be tossed out with the bathwater.
I tgink it’s more sensible, as well as more fun, to repudiate at least one sometimes reputed masterpiece of every ” grand auteur” —e.g., Hitchcock’s PSYCHO, Ford’s WAGON MASTER, Welles’ THE TRIAL — and to affirm the masterful ness of at least one successful studio or blockbuster hack — e.g., Leonard’s PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, Wood’s KING’S ROW, Tony Scott’s TRUE ROMANCE (or ENEMY OF THE STATE), Tarantino’s PULP FICTION, and so on.
Earlier today, Jean-Pierre Coursodon asked: “To revive an old discussion: who is more “camp” — Raymond Scott or Esquivel?”, and I can’t resist answering…
I don’t really think of either as camp, at least not in the Dauthian sense. But it’s certainly true that Esquivel has been saddled with an ironic/kitschy post-career aura. Which on one hand is too bad, since the guy was really very talented – I think “Whatchamacallit” is pretty amazing (and very “out-there”), and his “Sentimental Journey” isn’t far behind. And suave! Dude was like a Latin Mastroianni with spectacles. On the other hand, it could be hard to shake the non-subtlety of the period packaging, and those “Zu-zu-zu”s are certainly…dated. So, I can give some ironic treatment of Esquivel’s a pass.
On the subject of Raymond Scott, I’ve always considered him as a prime example of the “eccentric visionary” catagory. I think the Quintette of the late ’30s was some serious stuff, and he later had his hands in all sorts of ground-breaking activities. It’s true that some of the presentation of his later work is irony-ready, the SOOTHING SOUNDS FOR BABY series in particular, but that presentation in Scott’s case, for me, just feels grafted on by the record label.
So, I guess Esquivel is the uh, winner. Now, who the cinematic equiv of Martin Denny?
Also, Barry Putterman’s comment @ 4:50 is a great one, and I’ll add that the idea expressed in it is, in my estimation, a big part of whay this weekly comment section is such a lively place. This is to say that a bold statement against Alan Rudolph or THE LONG GOODBYE can be made without people doing backflips to their keyboards to engage in the electronic arguments that so often end badly.
Blake, your dismissal of GOODBYE really makes me want to see it again, though I understand that was not your intent. It’s been almost twenty years, though. Perhaps I’ll re-read the Chandler first. It’s been about ten for the book. I seem to recall that most of my hard-boiled crime lit friends back in the day were pretty indifferent to GOODBYE. I recall a lot of verbal hostility from David Goodis fans toward SHOOT THE PIANO PLAYER, however. But I always held my tongue, since I think that Truffaut’s film is very great.
Joseph N.
Joseph N.: What Truffaut did to Goodis is comparable to what Altman did to Chandler, so it’s no surprise that Goodis’s “hard-boiled crime lit” fans objected to SHOOT THE PIANO PLAYER.
I doubt that Goodis would have liked Truffaut’s film much.
“Goodis didn’t write novels, he wrote suicide notes.” A great quote from Ed Gorman.
“But we can all still be friends. For example: I remain Blake’s friend despite my less than sterling feelings about some of the films of John Ford. And I never let it bother me that his dismissal of THE BAREFOOT CONTESSA is one of the most mind-boggling mistakes I have ever known a person of his intelligence and caliber to make.”
But don’t forget that I generally like Mankiewicz and especially like some of his films–of his films most taken for classics I only dislike CONTESSA. At the same time, on the Ford films you do like, notably TWO RODE TOGETHER and also THE HORSE SOLDIERS you’ve been both insightful and appreciative.
I’m with Alex and my willingness to be hard on a film by a director I love and to elevate one (say, PEYTON PLACE) by someone without auteurist credentials.
Brian, I was really hoping you would defend Macdonald more than you did on the charge of homophobia. It’s interesting, to tie a few things together, DOROTHY AND ALAN AT NORMA PLACE shares the subject of a homosexual man married to a heterosexual woman with THE DROWNING POOL, only there it’s the main subject, as John Dorr acknowledged to me straightforwardly and very appreciative that I had recognized what I wanted to do. The difference–DOROTHY AND ALAN was made my a gay man (this was in no way something he wasn’t out there with, so I’m comfortable to make note of it).
Now, THE LONG GOODBYE. Sure, a homophobic man can be in love with a man. That wasn’t my point. That might describe Marlowe, who is at least arguably homophobic through the books as well as being involved in some way with various women. But he never falls in love with them the way he does with Terry.
I don’t know if Chandler was homophobic or not but does it matter if he could create this. The heterosexual but very hip Altman backed away from this completely, casting a baseball player as Terry, instilling no emotion in the relationship whatever, having Marlowe cheerfully blow Terry away at the end, and walk away to the tunes of “Hooray for Hollywood.” He couldn’t come to grips with any possible feeling between the two men.
I know I shouldn’t have mentioned THE LONG GOODBYE, but truly I have not yet shaken the trauma after all these years. It’s not that I think a movie needs to be faithful, because I don’t. I adore SHOOT THE PIANO PLAYER and obviously it’s Truffaut and not Goodis. Actually that movie proves the point–if you’re going to replace something great, you better replace it with something great and not something glib and shallow.
I realize that virtually all my friends and respected colleagues (in some cases, both at once) on this blog seem to love this movie, and I truly don’t get it. I sincerely don’t. And especially in the case of those who have read the book and know what was being adapted here (how did Leigh Brackett have anything to do with this anyway?). It’s not a question that it’s different–it’s a question of taking something that was adult and deep and mature, even if imperfectly plotted (which I’d probably concede) and making it childish and facetious, taking life and death cheaply in a way that became so modish but that we should really rebel against. Someone please explain to me in a coherent way how it is defensible when Marty Agustine/Mark Rydell smashes a coke bottle in his girlfriend’s face, disfiguring her forever, and blithely says to Marlowe “This is what I do to my friends.”
It’s not that I don’t ever like Altman because I do and have said so before. But at his worst he does have something that isn’t even meanness or nastiness, because he doesn’t care enough that we can even call it that, and his too-often ragged visual style can never redeem those moments, parts of films, or in this case whole films.
The other one I deeply dislike is THIEVES LIKE US. Again, yes, I’m comparing it–but not to its source, which I haven’t read and I’ve heard in fact it’s the more faithful of the two movies to the novel. But it’s just really hard to see what Nicholas Ray made of this in comparison to what Altman made of it. They are poles apart in maturity and sensibility–and that goes for every character, every line, every gesture, every frame, every image.
jean-pierre coursodon,
Good points, except Truffaut is a far greater artist than Goodis,as Chandler is far greater artist than Altman (if artist Altman is, despite his moments).
“…that I had recognized what he wanted to do.”
(Guess I wish I had made it…it’s superb.)
I know Marty maybe said “This is what I do to people I like” (rather than “to my friends’). Honestly, I don’t remember the line exactly, but have seen it quoted. Anyone please feel free to say the correct line.
Blake, I’m sorry I even mentioned Brackett, a mere screenwriter. I guess she had absolutely nothing to do with the movie.
Alex, what’s an “artist” according to you? Chandler is one, Altman isn’t? I just don’t get it.
Or maybe, Alex, by “artist” you mean someone whose works you like, the others being non-artists.
In “The Long Goodbye,” after shattering a Coke bottle against his girlfriend’s face (would a Coke bottle made of glass shatter if used to strike someone in this way?), slickly vicious hoodlum Marty Augustine says to Philip Marlowe (whom he addresses as “cheapie”), “That’s someone I love, and you I don’t even like.”
I find this moment a chilling summation of the bottomless evil rampant in the milieu of the film.
A note regarding the timeless Raymond Scott vs. Esqivel camp debate. I think it is important to bear in mind how the manner in which the music was introduced to people colors their eventual reaction to it.
People of my age grew up listening to Scott’s music on the soundtrack of countless Warner Brothers cartoons without even knowing what it was. Hearing the actual Quintette recordings in later life and recognizing how closely Carl Stallings’ orchestrations followed them brought back an affectionate part of our childhoods that we eagerly embraced.
Esquivel, on the other hand, was part of what our parents listened to. And even if we are prepared to acknowledge artistry in it on further listening, we cannot do so without some kind of ironic distancing. Maybe this also applies to that other never ending point of discussion here; attitudes towards Doris Day.
By the way, there is a double bill of Raymond Scott—I mean Frank Tashlin scheduled for Fox Movie Channel tomorrow morning. THE LIEUTENANT WORE SKIRTS followed by BACHELOR FLAT beginning at 9:30 A.M. Eastern time. A two headed exercise is masculine pride certain to lift everybody’s spirits.
Barry, the first medal was for the funniest comment today, and the second for your elegant statement about our differences. But I must confess I sometimes take unnecessary pleasure in badmouthing certain films by esteemed directors, or certain esteemed directors complete body of work. I won’t get carried away here and now though.
I want to do the opposite, as “The Big Combo” has been mentioned. I’ve only managed to watch seven films by Joseph H. Lewis, and with the exception of “Invisible Ghost”, they have all been extraordinary, and three absolutely brilliant. I want to see much much more. He had talent far above and beyond the call of duty.
I watched all the episodes of “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy” during two days last autumn while I was home sick. When I’d seen the last episode I felt bewildered. What was I supposed to do now? It had become like a drug (and worked much better than the vile cough medicine I was also taking).
“Blake, I’m sorry I even mentioned Brackett, a mere screenwriter. I guess she had absolutely nothing to do with the movie.”
That’s just the point, Jean-Pierre. I was acknowledging that she did have something to do with it, and probably a lot. She is the credited screenwriter. I find it hard to square that script with her other credits though, but I certainly don’t say someone just tacked on her name because they thought it would be cute. My guess based on his many films I’ve seen is that a fair number of crucial decisions were made by Altman in the course of shooting, but that’s true of so many films–good, bad and indifferent.
Michael, thank you for providing the correct line for Marty Agustine, and hopefully you’ll agree I did have the sense of it anyway (I haven’t seen it since 1973). However, given the blase tone, I find your crediting the film with a sense of “bottomless evil” to be generous. If it really did have this in a way that one could take seriously, it would indeed be an imposing film.
It’s my definite impression that Marty’s gesture and his line that follows were meant to get an easy laugh. And when I saw it, sad to say, it did. I have to ask “Is this funny?”
No, it is not funny but rather a delibertaely disruptive moment in a film that also deals with betrayal and evil. At that point, Altman pulls the rug from under any audience that tends to take the film too lightly.
Blake: All I can say about the moment in question from “The Long Goodbye” is that it has never gotten an easy laugh from me or any other kind of laugh, either. Even when totally surprised by the eruption of the bottle-breaking scene during my first look at the film, I don’t recall experiencing so much as a trace of an impulse to laugh.
However, it has no doubt — contrary to Robert Altman’s intentions, I firmly believe — gotten such a reaction over the years for a variety of reasons, ranging from caught-off-guard shock to stark insensitivity.
But I suppose nobody right now wants to reprise the recent thread about the varieties of audience laughter and the many motivations for same in response to material that isn’t necessarily seeking such a response.
I suppose a worthwhile cite would be from Tennessee Williams. Confronted by a wail from a stage manager during a performance of one of his dramas, “Mr. Williams, they’re laughing!”, he reportedly replied, “If they laugh, it’s a comedy.”
For me, this element of “The Long Goodbye” is a moment of pure shocking horror, generated also by the stunning reading of the quoted line by Mark Rydell, which reveals with unnerving suddenness just how deep is the cruelty of this character, who previously comes across as just suavely amoral in his common-garden greed and self-regard. Such a reaction could co-exist with laughter but didn’t in my case.
Kent, regarding the (Dickens’) “A Christmas Carol” – BACK TO THE FUTURE relationship. The missing link in this family tree is the Capra. In Dickens (and of course subsequent film adaptations) Scrooge is guided through time to his youth and witnesses it unseen by the past. Later he travels into the dystopian future, which he then changes by changing his behavior. In IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE, George Bailey follows exactly the same trajectory, point by point, although instead he visits a dystopian alternate present (“Pottersville”). In the first FUTURE film, Marty McFly travels through time (from 1985) and interferes with the past (1955); Doc Brown takes on the role of the omniscient ghosts of “Carol”/Clarence the angel of IAWL, and helps him repair his errors and improve the 1985 from whence he came. In the second FUTURE film Marty and Doc Brown travel into the future (2015 as I recall), Marty’s character flaw allowing 1985 to change into a worse dystopia than at the beginning of the original film. A return to 1955 follows for more corrections (and improvements in Marty’s character). (The third FUTURE film is largely about Doc Brown. This is why, structurally, it is the weakest of the three films. Did Capra make a IAWL prequel about Clarence?) The first two stanzas of Zemeckis’ trilogy draw heavily upon IAWL for inspiration, at times quoting it directly, as in the visit to the cemetery in BTF PART TWO, capping the sequence’s direct borrowing from the Pottersville sequence of IAWL. In Pottersville Uncle Billy is in the insane asylum; in this alternate 1985 Doc Brown is in the insane asylum. While PART TWO is flawed, the alternate 1985 episode is the best thing in all three movies, just as the Pottersville sequence is the noir highlight of IAWL and Scrooge’s vision of the future in “A Christmas Carol” is its most memorable episode.
To conclude, the first BACK TO THE FUTURE is a highly entertaining and endlessly rewatchable film, its mechanisms firing on every cylinder. It lacks however the gravity of both Dickens and Capra, thanks in part to its unthinking endorsement of 1980s consumerism (“the Fox character’s transformation from son of depressed nerds to son of cool people with disposable income” – Kent Jones). At least on the surface it’s a very Reaganite, “morning in America” film (President Reagan quoted it in a “State of the Union” address). PART TWO, as mentioned, is darker; PART THREE is trivial. As discussed earlier this thread, the ideology of subsequent Zemeckis films such as ROGER RABBIT and FORREST GUMP remain very much up for debate – they continue to speak to the different constituencies of their large audiences in different ways. The same of course is true of Capra’s films (reactionary or populist?) and many others. That’s what makes them such rich films, and ensures Zemeckis’ claim to our attention. Most blockbusters of the post-1970s era are empty baubles, devices that consume themselves in real time even as their audiences consume them (like the artist’s sculpture in MICKEY ONE). There’s something more going on in the better Zemeckis films I’ve seen (which also include CASTAWAY and CONTACT; I haven’t kept up with his 3-D films). All of them are problematic in one way or another, but they are all memorable.
Michael, I remember the last discussion pretty well and we were on the same side in that one as you will recall. Not in this one. I never for a moment felt that you would laugh at that scene or that line. But I still think you are crediting Altman with more moral concern for the nature of the worl than he has ever really displayed. I don’t say it’s totally absent from his films–it’s not but there is something cool, aloof and untouched about him in such a moment. I believe you are much more certain about his serious motives in that scene that I am.
I thought about those three mid-70s detective films, all now well-regarded. It seems to me that CHINATOWN could more readily claim the crown of effectively evoking “bottomless evil” in its milieu, and I’d suggest to you that Noah Cross would be very a good comparison with Marty Agustine in conception, realization and performance as far as serious and effective presentation of what you are talking about. I really think it is treated with a light hand in THE LONG GOODBYE–and I think the audience is encouraged to enjoy Marlowe blithely shooting his one-time friend. “Hooray for Hollywood” and all that.
I always liked CHINATOWN of the three films, and I still do, though over time I have come to feel, interestingly enough, that though its director probably has the most genuinely modernist sensibility, and one that can balance “bottomless evil” that is indeed rampant in the film’s milieu with a complementary sense of the arbitrary and the absurd in the universe, though not taken as any laughing matter, I now find it the most traditional of the three films.
To me the one that really risks and is willing to cast itself adrift from genre conventions but without sending them up is NIGHT MOVES and I now consider it by far the best, as great as THE LONG GOODBYE is reprehensible. It is the film that really lets the mystery give way to “the mystery”–the mystery of half-understood human relationships and connections. I have to resist the notion that it is Altman who was really best suited to modernize the genres and find the right tone and texture for them in the 70s. NIGHT MOVES did this and is still not held in anywhere near the regard it should be. And I’m not the first to note there are even Ross Macdonald resonances in it, though Harry Moseby is plainly not the detective that Lew Archer is.
Hmmm, I said NIGHT MOVES was well-regarded like the other two and then said it was not held in anywhere near the regard it should be. OK, I see the contradiction there.
I do lean more to the latter statement. I see the three films linked together very often. They are very different. For me, NIGHT MOVES is still underrated. But I’ll acknowledge I can’t make a precise statement about this, especially because I know it probably has as many ardent ardmirers here as THE LONG GOODBYE.
Re THE LONG GOODBYE: I don’t think we can guess the *intent* of Altman in the coke bottle scene. Tony Williams and Michael Dempsey talk very persuasively about *their* response to the scene. As I recall Pauline Kael made a similar argument about that scene’s impact in her 1973 review of the film (which helped rescue it from oblivion, I believe). (The film’s initial release in LA was sunk by LA Times critic Charles Champlin’s harsh attack on the film, along the lines of Blake’s criticism of the film today, as a cruel betrayal of Chandler’s idealism.) The film’s (second) poster, part of the film’s reissue by a studio hoping to recoup its investment after seeing Kael’s review, was by Mad magazine artist Jack Davis, and it presented the coke scene as a cartoon, I guess with Altman’s approval. It helped spark a fairly successful relaunch, at least among critics and tastemakers.
As I commented in my discussion of Zemeckis, just above, different audiences will have completely different responses to a movie. I think Tony and Michael’s responses are as valid as Blake’s, and even if there was an interview with Altman stating his intent to merely goose the audience, their very different responses would still be valid.
Blake, as you know well, the 1970s were the great decade of revisionist cinema, and filmmakers like Altman and Penn walked a thin line between being intelligently critical of a tradition (MCCABE AND MRS MILLER? NIGHT MOVES?) and derisively mocking (LITTLE BIG MAN? THE MISSOURI BREAKS? THE LONG GOODBYE?). These questions are very interesting but I believe one’s reaction to be a matter of personal choice. I’m more interested in Altman as a formalist than as a thinker (which he’s not). He was a formidable filmmaker with a chip on his shoulder against all convention. He liked to stir things up. And while our host (Dave Kehr) has been as dismissive in the past of the virtues of Altman’s incessent zooming in and out of his wide screen compositions, as dismissive of that as he has been eloquent in making a case for Zemeckis’ use of three-dimensional space, I have always found Altman’s experiments with sound and space, at least in the 1970s, very exciting. In a sense my response to Altman has always been colored by two great essays, Robin Wood on his “smart ass and cutey-pie” sensibility on the one hand, and Jonathan Rosenbaum on “improvisations in Altmanville” on the other.
Michael W: “(Like the original Star Trek episodes; lots of standing around and talking/exposition about ideas or actions, along with that beeping and buzzing!) I may feel differently about HUNT now. STAR TREK, no.”
I wouldn’t urge you to take another immediate look, but if you ever get the chance, check out Joseph Pevney’s episodes for Star Trek, particularly Amok Time, for the fight sequences. Good use of handeld.,
Blake, your contradiction Re: NIGHT MOVES is not really one. The film has a bunch of cinephile fans (you and I included among the most enthusiastic) but it had no impact at all at the time it came out, unlike LONG GOODBYE or CHINATOWN. When I asked Penn if it had lost money he answered: “I don’t know, that’s what they tell me, but it’s not necessarily true. It’s quite possible though, since no one has seen it!”
Harry Moseby is as far from a Lew Archer as can be. Archer solves mysteries, Harry is unable to (“His inability to understand his own problems, to find his own identity, makes it impossible for him to deal successfully with the “case” or even to understand its nature,” Penn said in our interview).
Blake: I was just teasing you about TBC. Guess the humour got lost in cyberspace.
As for THE DROWNING POOL: I do not remember it well enough to defend or condemn it, but MacDonald’s homophobia in the early books has been noted by others (it is often attributed to an early homosexual experience that was traumatic for him). THE DARK TUNNEL and BLUE CITY (both non-Archer books) have a Hammett-like homophobia about them that I do remember. I would have to read them again to see how I feel now. I have negotiated a peace with Hammett over his homophobia and can read him with pleasure. I will be curious to see how early MacDonald holds up since my re-reads have usually started with THE DOOMSTERS.
But I will say that I have always noted a great deal of growth on the part of MacDonald over the course of his career in terms of his vision regarding sex/gender issues. The place he starts out from is deeply conventional, but as he grew as a writer, his compassion and insight deepened.
As for THE LONG GOODBYE: I look at the first six Chandler novels as (in part) a narration of Marlowe’s understanding of his own sexuality. The books move from Marlowe’s tearing up of his bed after Carmen Sternwood lies on it to his feelings of love for Terry Lennox. The journey is interesting, but also creepy in a way since Chandler’s vision darkens as Marlowe’s understanding of his sexual self increases, almost as if the more Marlowe accepts his same-sex feelings, the greater the despair he feels. It would have been interesting to see where Chandler went next, but all he had left was PLAYBACK, a recycled story that seems more a detour/evasion than a continuation of Marlowe’s quest.
I think Altman made the right move in jettisoning this aspect of the book (beyond an autuer’s right to reject/accept any part of his source material) since 20 years down the line it would come across as even more homophobic than it does in the novel. The era of aesthetic homoeroticism had closed by the 1970′s.
Re. THE LONG GOODBYE’s coke bottle scene. We’re clearly supposed to laugh, and simultaneously be horrified by our reaction. It’s important to remember that Marty Augustine and Roger Wade (Sterling Hayden) represent two opposed methods of dealing with the cynically amoral world in which the film is set: gleeful acceptance on the one hand, total defeat on the other (needless to say, the possibility of effectively opposing this world is something that can’t even be considered). Marlowe (like Altman) is torn between these extremes, but finally aligns himself with Marty Augustine; not only does he kill his friend, but he does so after delivering a cynical one-liner (“Yeah, I even lost my cat”). And I think Altman’s response to this is similar to our reaction during the coke bottle scene; he finds it funny, and is horrified by his ability to do so.
jean-pierre coursodon,
“Or maybe, Alex, by “artist” you mean someone whose works you like, the others being non-artists.”
I’d have though it was just usage to see the commommonplace auteur/non-auteur and artist/craftsmen distinctions, regularly used at this site, as closely synonymous with an atist/non-artist distinction.
As for my Candler/Altman and Truffaut/Goodis contrasts, they seem very reasonable and plausible to me, especially when it’s noted that I was manisfestly discussuing degrees of artistry, not a satark artist/non-artist distinction.
Of course my “Truffaut is a far greater artist than Goodis,as Chandler is far greater artist than Altman” hardly is incontrovertable, but that’s another story than the one you devise.
On the relative merits of these pairs, I didn’t think rationales were much needed in support of a a few comparisons but some short rationales would not be jhard to work up. (On the Candler/Altman contrast you more stress, I’d just say that Candler is rather broadly regarded as a major stlistic innovator in American literature (in both language/style and genre form), while I’m unaware of a similalrly focussed and braodly affirmed claim for Altman. Heo seems to me mainly an intelligent and energtic adaptor of others work and strong scripts by others and a bit too much of a stylistic chameleon to be a major stylistic innocator or voice –however enriching a source of 1970s U.S. he may have been.
In short a gifted far form origer whggas well as eaionscousome
I’m finding all of the varied viewpoints on the Coke bottle in THE LONG GOODBYE to be fascinating. Frankly, for me, it never seemed to be in any way different from the grapefruit in PUBLIC ENEMY or the coffee in THE BIG HEAT. In fact, if anything, it seemed to be too self-consciously trying to invoke those scenes.
Finding it funny and being horrified at the ability to do so seems to be as good a summation as you could get. But I suppose that a person’s reaction to the film in general will pretty much inform their interpretation of that moment in particular.
I want to add to footnote to what I just posted about Ross Macdonald.
Over the course of the novels, Archer’s education is Macdonald’s education (which Macdonald readily admitted). There is a deepening understanding of the issues of race/sex/gender/sexuality as the books proceed. In one way, the books are very reflective of the year in which they were written — Macdonald had a great ability to channel society’s prevailing zeitgeist even as he scrutinized and critiqued it. The character of Archer is also Macdonald’s vehicle to chronicle his personal history/evolution as he deals with his absent father, his drug addict daughter, and his own failure as a father and a husband. When both your daughter and grandson die tragic deaths before you, it makes you look at yourself and your failings. Novelist Macdonald’s aesthetic adoption of the Freudian structure that will govern his later works mirrors real-life Millar’s acceptance of his obligations and responsibilities toward his wife and daughter. The Archer books are in one aspect diaries that have been disguised as crime novels.
Macdonald is a most autobiographical novelist and the robust way to respond to Macdonald’s work is to understand any single novel as a chapter in a much longer work. Whatever homophobia exists in early Macdonald (and I do remember it in early non-Archer novels I have read within the last ten years. The early Archer books I have not revisited since I first read them 30 years ago. As I said, my re-reads start with Macdonald’s late-50’s output), it is not there in an admiring/endorsing way. Like William S. Burroughs, Macdonald is on a philosophical quest and interrogation of the world. Any conclusions reached/expressed in any one novel are always provisional. Archer’s quest for mercy that results only in justice is fueled by Macdonald’s growth in understanding so that by the time we get to the end of his career, a gay couple appears in THE BLUE HAMMER (not a favorite – the Alzheimer’s is beginning to show) that is obliquely acknowledged and not condemned.
As Macdonald’s vision of the disintegration of society intensifies (THE UNGERGROUND MAN; SLEEPING BEAUTY), Archer becomes more and more capacious in his generosity to the outsider and others. The last Archer book, which Macdonald had outlined and written parts of before illness made further work impossible, would have closed the circle: a young woman comes to Archer and asks his help in learning about her past. The investigation would reveal that Archer is her father and thus her past. Finally, Archer would be re-inscribed in the world (a process he flirts with throughout the novels) just as Millar tried to do right by his family though his efforts ultimately failed.
“filmmakers like Altman and Penn walked a thin line between being intelligently critical of a tradition (MCCABE AND MRS MILLER? NIGHT MOVES?) and derisively mocking (LITTLE BIG MAN? THE MISSOURI BREAKS? THE LONG GOODBYE?).”
Yes, that’s exactly how I see it, Gregg, and you even have the titles right here–at least for me. Since I find Altman’s sensibility not so deep, I have too be more interested in him for his approach, his formal ideas if you will (somehow the word “formal” seems strange here but he’s an innovator and has his own aesthetic ideas so I guess it works). Here he becomes interesting, though in a highly variable way (for example, 3 WOMEN is a rather striking film, stylistically). I really got to like Altman in his very late films, when I feel a touch of mellowing in his attitudes that had so often been derisive.
Now, Brian, of course I know you meant that humorously re BAREFOOT CONTESSA, and humor is always appreciated.
I certainly agree Macdonald grew and deepened. Like anyone else, his personal experience had a lot to do with this and is reflected in his work. But your attitude toward the earlier novels, even the pre-Archers, is a little casual. I don’t like BLUE CITY that much–it is on the simplistic side–and I’m not sure that THREE ROADS even works, but I thought THE DARK TUNNEL was a good first novel and especially liked TROUBLE FOLLOWS ME, which had some very good observations on prejudice during WWII. I think if you give THE DROWNING POOL a fair reading, you’ll see that with the various characters in question Macdonald takes a similar attitude as he does with anyone else–severe but not without compassion. That theatrical guy (Francis is his name) could have wandered out of a Mankiewicz filmm given the different genre. The first Archer THE MOVING TARGET holds up incredibly well. I’m surprised you haven’t read that more. THE BARBAROUS COAST, which is getting near to THE DOOMSTERS and THE GALTON CASE admittedly has one of the best scenes Macdonald ever wrote, running for several chapters–Archer befriends and then begins to subtly interrogate a young black lifeguard, who he likes personally but knows the other can provide something valuable about the case; in the process of questioning him he destroys the others self-confidence, good will, and good attitude about things and confronts him cruelly with the racist world he is living in. This is very mature.
That said, the mature novels do follow. Interestingly, the one thing I just don’t think Macdonald handles with any sense of reality is the different hero of THE FERGUSON AFFAIR and his young pregnant wife–an unconvincingly sentimental aspect attaches to this that Macdonald did not do well with and he went back to Archer for good after that.
As for Chandler, what you say about the six books is interesting, however—
“I think Altman made the right move in jettisoning this aspect of the book (beyond an autuer’s right to reject/accept any part of his source material) since 20 years down the line it would come across as even more homophobic than it does in the novel. The era of aesthetic homoeroticism had closed by the 1970’s.”
I cannot disagree more. The novel does not come across as homophobic. That is one of the most melancholy and tender, yet wonderfully unsentimental, endings any book ever had. Too muted and subtle for a director like Altman, and let’s face it, he never handle any relationship with that much depth of feeling.
Gregg, I made no reference to Chandler’s idealism and don’t consider him idealistic. And although I hate the film, please don’t equate my view of it with Champlin, as I never saw the cinema even remotely the way he did. In this case, he may have also liked the book, but I emphasize again, that I am not against an unfaithful adaptation on principle as he definitely was.
Again, I’m sorry I brought up THE LONG GOODBYE again. I know most out there love it. I certainly don’t begrudge anyone that they do. It’s just genuinely hard for me to understand.
Fascinating thread!
Resnais’ ALL THE MEMORY OF THE WORLD and THE SONG OF STYRENE are indeed astonishing achievements. Just got to see these at long last on the Criterion disc.
Rosenbaum on Resnais is truly memorable criticism.
On Joseph H. Lewis:
Admittedly, Fante and Mingo in THE BIG COMBO are villains. But they are also a rare example of a gay couple in a Hollywood film. They are richly drawn, and touchingly in love with each other.
THE BIG COMBO is far from Lewis’ only look at homosexuality. One can argue that title character in THE RIFLEMAN is a gay hero. Lewis’ first episode of THE RIFLEMAN, DUEL OF HONOR (1958), is one of the great Gay Lib films.
I didn’t claim that Macdonald was worse than Hammett or Chandler in the bigotry department. Au contraire, these hard-boiled detective writers along with other hard-boileds like Mickey Spillane, Howard Browne, Ed Lacy and others tend to be much much worse than the average American detective writer when it comes to bigotry.
Hammet and Chandler were both highly talented: Hammett is a great plotter and creator of milieu, Chandler is a major prose stylist of the English language. But readers really have to work to avoid all the racism, misogyny and homophobia with which they larded their tales.
If people can enjoy Macdonald: peace! We need all the joy we can get. But Macdonald is a downer to me: I was depressed for days after reading THE CHILL.
I wish people would start exploring all the non-hard-boiled mystery writers. Ellery Queen is a giant. CALENDAR OF CRIME or THE ADVENTURES OF ELLERY QUEEN seem like expressions of pure surrealism, pure imagination and pure joy.
“If people can enjoy Macdonald: peace! We need all the joy we can get. But Macdonald is a downer to me: I was depressed for days after reading THE CHILL.”
Fair enough. “Depressed for days” kind of describes how I felt after seeing THE LONG GOODBYE as a movie. Maybe I’m not over it yet.
I’d be very interested in how one could argue that the hero of THE RIFLEMAN is a gay hero! I think you’re on safer ground with DUEL OF HONOR, at least as well as I now recall it.
The hero of the show, Lucas McCain, is often most gung ho when bonding with other men. Lucas has a special feeling for social outsiders. He develops a personal bond with them, and also stands up for their rights, in shows that preach liberal social values. The male bonding shows up most strongly in Duel of Honor, Shivaree, Hero, The Deserter, Strange Town, Baranca, Closer Than a Brother, The Journey Back, Honest Abe, Death Never Rides Alone, The Bullet. It is present throughout much of The Rifleman, in a lower grade intensity. Lucas sums up his feelings by quoting Proverbs 18:24, “There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother”, in the episode Closer Than a Brother.
Lucas’ relations with his men friends are intimate and emotionally intense. It would be easy to call these relationships homosexual love stories. But is this accurate? Such a label runs into the usual roadblocks. None of the films show or hint that the men friends are having sex with the hero. By contrast, in The Big Combo, Fante and Mingo are strongly indicated to be having sex, since we see them as roommates, shown sleeping together at night in a common bedroom. Nor does the dialogue of the Rifleman shows ever refer to any sort of physical attraction.
The imagery of The Rifleman shows about Lucas and his male friends is often intensely physical, of a kind that can legitimately be labeled as “homoerotic”. Watching Lucas slug it out with the lead of Baranca, do full contact wrestling with the lead of Honest Abe, or share a hotel room with the lead of Duel of Honor, suggests strong homosexual feelings that have evaded the censors of 1960. Combined with the strong portrait of friendship, works like Baranca and Duel of Honor do indeed seem like gay love stories.
Alex Hicks wrote: “In short a gifted far form origer whggas well as eaionscousome”
Well, it’s hard to argue with that!
jbryant, brilliant! Mel Brooks puled that gag in BLAZING SADDLES with David Huddleston saying “Now who could argue with that?” But seizing the moment on found art is even funnier. Of course, we are only seeing Alex’s first draft here.
Alex, I think I also speak for jbryant in saying that no harm is intended. We kid with affection.
ORIGER WHGGAS WELL AS EAIONSCOUSOME is the title of the American Library’s forthcoming COMPLETE FILM WRITINGS OF ALEX HICKS. I’ve already ordered my copy, for the sub-editing annotations alone.
I see nothing humowus about Awex Hicks wemark. I have a vewy good fwiend in Wome called Origer Whggas Well As Eaionscousome!
Mike: if Macdonald books depress you, all I can say is “No more Archer for you, Mike.”
Nice catch, jbryant.
The loose ends from composition no longer needn’t be tossed when they can inspire such a range of responses, most especially wit.
About THE LONG GOODBYE, there is interview with Altman in Kinema Jumpo, 1991 issue. He is saying about background that movie was sequel to MARLOWE with same crew, Stirling Silliphant writer, James Garner actor and producer. But Garner did not make the movie, Elliot Kastner became producer and he hired Peter Bogdanovich to be director. Bogdanovich had new screenplay written by Leigh Brackett. Then Bogdanovich could not make the movie. Kastner hired Altman. He told Altman you can change screenplay ending, but Altman said he only said yes because of ending. So that ending was written by Leigh Brackett.
I understand about Blake does not like the movie. To me it is too ironic tone. The movie has a mean spirit to it, too mean. I cannot like it for that reason.
About Anthony Mann, best early Anthony Mann movie that I have seen is THE GREAT FLAMARION (1945). Movie has unusal beginning scene that explains the whole movie. It is show with expert marksman in stage drama. He playing husband catching wife with lover and shooting things with expert skill. Every camera position and cutting is like expert marksman, and it is not simple movie but complex drama and emtional story. Erich von Strohiem is marksman/husband. This movie should be seen if someone wants complete understanding of Anthony Mann.