The following list comes from Jason Wiener, who blogs at Jason Watches Movies.
Usually I try to put this is some semblance of order, counting down to the best. Not that I make much of a distinction between number 7 and 8, or even 2 and 3, usually. But I kind of like giving an "award" to my number one pick of the year. But not this year. While there were a lot of great repertory film experiences, I just can't point to one that was a standout. So instead this will be in more or less chronological order.
1.
Noir City, at the Castro. There are a lot of great films I could choose
from this festival. Of course I could go with the classic Sunset Blvd. (1950.) Or Blake Edwards' Experiment In Terror (1962.) For
some reason Try And Get Me (aka The Sound Of Fury) from 1950 sticks in
my mind. I think that's party because of Lloyd Bridges amazing
performance, but mostly because I looked up the real life case it's
based on and learned that our peaceful little San Jose was the site of
the last lynch mob in California. But instead the one that I said at the
time "might just be my favorite of the entire festival"
still is. Inferno (1953,) because somehow when I'm watching film noir I
decide that that the 3-D Technicolor one is my favorite. That's just
the type of guy I am, I guess.
2.
Cinequest, at the California Theater. A comedy pairing of Buster
Keaton's short Cops (1922) and Harold Lloyd's feature Safety Last (1923.) I've seen these both so many times that logically this shouldn't
make the list. In fact, logically I shouldn't have bothered to
watch them again anyway. But I'm putting them on the list for the same
reason I saw them--Dennis James rocking the Mighty Wurlitzer. He was, as
always, magnificent. And with the Silent Film Festival seeming to cut
ties with him I appreciate the times I get to hear him even more. (he
didn't play at the San Francisco Silent Film Festival for the first time
since...ever, I think? At least since I've been going to the festival,
and my understanding is that in the first few years he was their only accompanist.) He does happen to be playing at the Stanford Theatre in their current Capra retrospective, but I'll probably be at Noir City and miss him.
3.
Midnites for Maniacs, at the Castro. Romy And Michele's High School Reunion (1997.) I've attended way more Midnites for Maniacs screenings
this past year that any previous years. And there are many more
screenings I could have chosen (it will show up a few more times
on the list, including the next item.) Like Love Actually (especially
followed by Trash Humpers,) or The Garbage Pail Kids Movie (not good at
all, but I oddly love that I finally got around to seeing it.) Or even
the original Carrie, which I saw the same night. But for me, Romy And Michele was the perfect M4M movie. I completely dismissed it at the
time, had no interest in seeing it, and then Jesse Hawthorne Ficks plays
it and my interest is piqued. To my surprise, it's not just
about annoying, ditzy, shallow, SoCal blondes. I mean...those are
superficially their characters, but it's a modern surrealist
masterpiece. One of the most ridiculously extended dream sequences ever,
and then a dance scene
that perfectly demonstrates the ideal of "dance as if no one is
watching." It is still one of my bucket list items to reenact that dance
scene someday.
4.
Midnites for Maniacs celebrating Johnny Depp's 50th Birthday, at the
Castro. A triple bill of Benny & Joon (1993,) What's Eating Gilbert Grape (1993,) and Cry-Baby (1990.) I just thought this was the best
Johnny Depp triple-bill I could imagine. Until a couple of months later
when they did The Lone Ranger (2013) and Dead Man (1995.) The Lone Ranger isn't repertory, but Dead Man should be included in the list
somehow...even if I did kinda doze through bits of it.
5.
San Francisco Silent Film Festival's presentation of the Hitchcock 9,
at the Castro. All the (existing) silent films Alfred Hitchcock made,
and I could select any (or all) of them for this list. But instead I'll
give this spot to the standout, the one that Hitchcock himself described
at "the first 'Hitchcock' film"--The Lodger (1927.) There's just no
doubt that it was and still is a masterpiece, and Ivor Novello is
brilliant.
6.
The San Francisco Silent Film Festival, at the Castro. For their
showcase festival, I again could've chosen any or all of their films for
my list. But there are a few standouts. I could choose Prixe De Beauté (1930) because Louise Brooks is just phenomenal. Or I could choose
Legong: Dance Of The Virgins (1935) because I'm a huge fan of native
Balinese boobies in Technicolor...um, and Clubfoot Orchestra and Gamelan
Sekar Jaya were pretty amazing as accompaniment. But instead I'll go
with The Weavers (1927.) Yup, I choose revolutionary class politics (and
action) over tits. I think I might actually be maturing just a teeny,
tiny bit. Also Günther Buchwald was brilliant as the accompanist.
7.
Midnites for Maniacs, at the Castro. Rules Of Attraction (2002.) One
thing is clear, I have to continue going to more M4M programs this year.
This is another film that I just dismissed and didn't care about when
it came out. It looked like nothing more than spoiled rich kids behaving
badly. And...it is...but a whole lot more. Not just clever camera work,
story structure, and editing tricks, but a really engaging
story...about spoiled rich kids behaving badly. And now I'm a little
obsessed with trying to see the legendary spin-off Glitterati (the full
version of the European trip that was cut down to a fast-cut 5 minute
sequence in Rules Of Attraction)
8. The Wicker Man, at the Castro. I've
seen it several times (including at Burning Man, which is kind of the
perfect setting,) but not this big, not this beautiful. And it still rewards multiple screenings.
9.
At the Vortex Room, a Halloween night double feature of Halloween III:
Season Of The Witch (1982) and Suspiria (1977.) One of my favorite
underrated horror films with one of my favorite horror film, period. And
in my favorite underground movie spot (that makes the best damn
martinis in town.) And to top it off, everyone sang Happy Birthday to me
(I'm Jason...born on Halloween...and I'm Rosemary's baby...so horror
films have a bit of a special place in my life.)
10.
Another Hole in the Head Film Festival, at the Balboa Theater. The Shining (1980) with the Simpson's parody The Shinning A classic horror
film, and the first time I've seen it since watching the documentary
Room 237, so I could catch things like the impossible architecture, the
car that almost runs into everyone before disappearing, or the fact that
Jack is reading a Playgirl magazine. This was a 35 mm print, and it
was...cut up a bit. In fact, it was missing the famous "Heeeeere's
Johnny!" among other scenes (speculation is some projectionist long ago
cut it out for his private stash.) And what was there was a bit
scratchy. Some people complained, but I didn't care, it's a great film
and my fetish for 35 mm film wouldn't have it any other way. Before the
film--and with no introduction--they also played the Simpson Treehouse
of Horror parody The Shinning (1994.) I knew they were going to do that,
but I like to imagine what it was like for some in the audience to be
surprised by it. I hope they enjoyed it. As Ernie Fosselius (Hardware Wars) told me once, it's always better to see the parody first and then
see the real thing.
Honorable mentions:
A.
The Shining: Forwards and Back. At the New People Cinema. Also part of
Another Hole in the Head, and featured in Room 237. They play The Shining forwards, and at the same time (and without sound) play the
movie in reverse. And this is...supposed to reveal creepy coincidences
with the movie haunting itself. I thought it was kinda cool to see it,
and thematically it's interesting to overlap peaceful family scenes with
future horrors (and vice-versa.) As for things "lining up perfectly"
it's part coincidence and part the fact that Kubrick really liked
well-centered shots (at least in The Shining.) So no, I don't buy that
there are hidden meanings revealed by watching it this way.
B.
Intolerance: Love's Struggle Throughout The Ages (1916) at the Castro.
This should've made the list. It was magnificent (and I say that after
being unimpressed the first time I saw it.) The only reason it
didn't--anti-digital bias. If this were on film with live musical
accompaniment (assuming it was good) I'm sure it would've made
the list. But it was on DCP, with a recorded soundtrack. And even though
at the time I wrote that "Digital Cinema Package (DCP) has arrived, and
traditionalist haters be damned" I still have this pro-film bias to
overcome.
C.
Sallah Shabati (1964) as a special donor's event and screening for the
Silicon Valley Jewish Film Festival at the Netflix company screening
room. Who knew Topol was still alive? Well, I got really Jew-geeky so I
donated enough that I got to meet him and watch this first film of his,
which is still the most popular film on Israeli television every year
(and which launched his international career with an award at the San
Francisco International Film Festival.) Later that same day I enjoyed a
sing-a-long to Fiddler On The Roof (1971) at the Oshman Family Jewish
Community Center in Palo Alto (he followed that with a sing-a-long at
the Castro later that day. Given the digital projection at the JCC I
wish I had seen that one instead, which is why it didn't make the list.)
D.
An American Tail (1986) at the Castro, as part of the San Francisco Jewish Film Festival. This was an unaccountably huge part of my
childhood, watching and re-watching this movie. But (and this sounds
unbelievably dumb) I never really paid attention to the Jewish content
in it. What fun to rewatch it as an adult, in that context.
Dishonorable mention:
At
the Roxie, as part of Indiefest, a sing-a-long to Purple Rain (1984.) I
had never seen this movie, although I remember a lot of kids (mostly
older, I was only 10 at the time) going crazy for it. I don't know why I
had never seen it. I assumed this was just one of those classics that I
might or might not get to see eventually. And I finally did. And
there's no reason at all for it to be a classic. There is no objectivity
in art except for this--Purple Rain is an objectively awful movie. The
acting is awful, the plot is dull, and the hero is a misogynist. The
villain's music is better than the hero's. And as far as a sing-a-long,
the music is much, much worse if you actually think about the lyrics.
The only thing I liked is the all-girl trio is called the Apollonia Six. So there, I managed to end on a tits joke. I guess I haven't matured too much.
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