The Two Eyes Of Carl Martin

If you didn't attend some wonderful repertory/revival film screenings in 2012, you missed out. As nobody could see them all, I've recruited Frisco Bay filmgoers to recall some of their own favorites of the year. An index of participants is found here.  

The following list comes from Carl Martin, film projectionist and keeper of the Bay Area Film Calendar.

on the silver globe: may 13, ybca

watching a near-incomprehensible 3-hour mess during the height of my allergic bout last year was torture.  i couldn't say what happened moment to moment--in broad strokes, astronauts alight on a far-flung planet and recapitulate in compressed time the evolution of human culture and religion.  i do know it's chock-full of shockingly beautiful shots, like that of a forest of pole-sitters perched on a beach.  this wildly ambitious relic was left unfinished, a victim of shifting political tides, the balance filled in years later via voiceover paired with fish-eyed guerilla subway footage--as if an andrzej zulawski (possession) film needed any help being totally schizoid.

white dog: june 3; arne sucksdorff shorts: june 7, private screenings
anti-wellesian high-angle shots implicate the viewer in perennial racial pot-stirrer sam fuller's sordid, methodical tale of a racist dog.  fortuitously preceded by skipper learns a lesson, the 16mm educational film that so moved a young kristy mcnichol it inspired her participation in fuller's film, in which she gives a brave, emotionally naked performance.  morricone score!  a few days later, a pair of lovely and intimate nature documentary shorts, part of a larger shorts selection curated by k. wiggin.  shadows on the snow depicts the stalking of a bear, carefully balancing the fortunes of hunter and prey; rhythm of a city: a film from stockholm, because of its setting, also a city symphony of sorts.  as venues shut down or go digital and the studios increase their iron grip on prints, we'll rely increasingly on collectors and grey-area screenings to satisfy our celluloid cravings.

the man in the gray flannel suit: june 21, pfa
i did not expect this film to wander lustily into such a moral quagmire.  in flashbacks to his wartime experiences, "agreeable gentleman" gregory peck kills a man for his coat and conducts an affair while unambiguously still married.  one feels this to be an admirable corrective to the usual us-vs-them heroics of cinematic warfare of that time.  in a wonderful and prescient throwaway scene, peck wrests his kids from the tv and sends them off to bed, only to fall himself under its hypnotic spell.

valerie and her week of wonders: june 29, pfa
i'd seen this years before but was struck this time by its wondrous, dreamlike beauty.  as with on the silver globe there's a lot going on i can't make much sense of beyond its deep resonance.

five elements ninjas: july 6, roxie
after quick-zooming our way through the usual confused exposition, we get to the meat of the matter: a series of truly inspired confrontations with super-natural ninja foursomes representing gold, water, earth, wood, and fire.  balletic kung-fu at its best.

die wunderbare lüge der nina petrowna (the wonderful lie of nina petrovna): july 13, castro
probably one of my top three silent film experiences ever, with one of my favorite stars.  the emotive power of brigitte helm's face is stunning.  majestic ophuls-like photography and settings, with the edge in sensuousness.  franz lederer needs to stop gambling already!

awāra: july 28, pfa
the pfa's raj kapoor series featured some of the most horrid looking prints i've ever seen: black-and-white on inconsistently timed color stock full of all manner of printed-in defects.  incredibly, awāra, with its fatalistic melodrama and busby berkeley-caliber musical numbers, overcame all that.

walker: october 6, pfa
a troubling peckinpah-inspired masterpiece from alex cox--troubling for that world-beating american cowboy spirit and troubling for cox's career as a consequence.  ed harris goes on a messianic power trip in nicaragua in the best performance by him i've seen.  he won me over from the get-go in a tender signed scene with marlee matlin.

whisper of the heart: october 10, california
i never though i'd include an anime in this list.  but yoshifumi kondô's only film (as director) mostly eschews the wide-eyed te-heeing teens, moped hooligans, mystical animals, and steampunk fantasy embraced by miyazaki and his lessers in favor of bittersweet, down-to-earth, contemporary teen romance.  i still can't get olivia newton-john's country roads rendition out of my head.  one of the last films seen at my former workplace.

the frightened woman: november 17, victoria
a bizarre eurotrash revenge tale with so many delightful surprises involving props, sets, mise en scène, and plain wrongness that the plot twist at the end seems comparatively tame.  note to victoria: please adjust feed clutch so films don't break at the ends of the reels.

The Two Eyes Of Lawrence Chadbourne

If you didn't attend some wonderful repertory/revival film screenings in 2012, you missed out. As nobody could see them all, I've recruited Frisco Bay filmgoers to recall some of their own favorites of the year. An index of participants is found here.  

The following list comes from Lawrence Chadbourne, a film buff and video collector now avidly using Twitter.

2012 was the year where the pace accelerated for conversion of Bay Area theatres to digital projection, and with noble exceptions like the Stanford. most of our rep/revival venues which still showed 35 and 16mm, going along with the crowd, succumbed too frequently for my taste to the temptation to book a DCP. There were several series on film, however, that expanded my horizons and I prefer to focus on these.

In February the Pacific Film Archive included in its interesting "Dizzy Heights: Silent Cinema and Life In The Air," curated by grad student Patrick Ellis, a rare 1927 Julien Duvivier treat, The Mystery Of The Eiffel Tower, that had not been in Susan Oxtoby's superb 2009 retrospective there on that French director. I had looked at the movie before on a bootleg DVD, but it really came to life with a trio of local musicians. I wasn't aware that this work had been an influence on the Tintin graphic novels. Though much of this mis-estimated filmmaker's oeuvre is now under my belt, it still offers riches like this to be discovered.

In July and August the PFA under Kathy Geritz's supervision offered a larger program on documentarian Les Blank, who possibly because he has gotten a fair deal of exposure, as a local, I had somewhat taken for granted. These combinations of lively regional music and mouth watering ethnic food were pure joy and were appreciated by the savvy Berkeley crowd who knew their rhythms and their cuisine. My favorite of those I saw was In Heaven There Is No Beer, from 1984, which was co-directed by Maureen Gosling, 50 minutes of rollicking polka that had me tapping my toes if not dancing in the aisle. Blank and Gosling added their insights to the Q & A's at a number of the shows.

Starting in September, and continuing into the winter, Landmark Theatres brought a welcome return of Studio Ghibli Japanese anime, only a couple in the vulgarized English versions, many of course by Hayao Miyazaki but others by his less well known colleagues. My top choice was Ikao Takahata's Pom Poko from 1994, an environmental fantasy about some pretty wild raccoons. This cycle started at the Bridge (now closed) and moved to the California in Berkeley (now one of the digital conversions mentioned above) where it did well enough to be extended, but the memory of this entertaining event is touched with sadness at those changes.

In November the enterprising Joel Shepard at Yerba Buena Center For The Arts brought some treasures by the Czech surrealist master, Jan Svankmajer, whose achievement as with Les Blank I hadn't fully caught up with,. The highpoint here was his Lunacy, from 2006, a critique of an asylum based on the Marquis De Sade, with images of pieces of meat moving of their own accord that I try to forget when I am buying dinner at my nearby Andronico's!

In December the Rafael Film Center in Marin under the aegis of Richard Peterson seized the opportunity when a recent restoration of comedies by the gifted French clown Pierre Etaix became available. The series was unfortunately, unlike all the others I described, poorly attended, I spotted only one familiar fellow buff, the former coordinator of the Mendocino Film Festival, George Russell. Fortunately for those who missed the prints a Criterion box set of Etaixes is being prepared. I had seen a bit of his work way back in the 60s and 70s so was curious to find how it would hold up. These films, with the exception of one somewhat awkward documentary are so great it's hard to pick one but I would choose The Suitor, from 1963, one of the most devastating but also sweet of romantic comedies.

Last, while the purpose of Brian's blog is to celebrate our still rich local rep/revival scene, I wanted to mention a discovery of sorts I made, in this my first year using a computer, while streaming on the Europa Film Treasures web site: The French A Woman Has Passed, from 1928, where the director and the actors were so obscure I had never heard of any. It turned out to be a little gem, one of those later silents like Sunrise or Variety where the story may be relatively simple, even elemental, but the resources of style that had been developed by that point were incredibly expressive. In an ideal world, a movie like this would have turned up, instead of on a monitor, on the big screen at the Castro's silent film festival, instead of (as was the case this year) their umpteenth revival of Pandora's Box or video versions of Wings and Lubitsch.

A Chairy Tale (1957)

WHO: Sitarist Ravi Shankar, along with tabla (Indian percussion) master Chatur Lai, composed and performed the music for this short film.

WHAT: By the time Shankar came to Canada to record the score for this film, co-directed by the National Film Board's head animator Norman McLaren and by Montreal filmmaker Claude Jutra, he'd begun to tour in Europe and North America and his scores for Satjajit Ray's films were already beginning to be heard by international film festival audiences, but his name was still nearly a decade away from becoming a household one outside India. His collaboration with McLaren and Jutra was one of his earliest collaborations with artists in the West. It's a delightful piece, and although Jutra's performance as a man having a disfunctional relationship with a piece of furniture is quite memorable, I don't think the film could work without Shankar's expressive score. The film is a must-see for anyone interested in cross-cultural collaborations of the 1950s, and of course for fans of Shankar, Jutra or McLaren.

WHERE/WHEN: 8PM at Oddball Films tonight. Seating is limited, so it's best to RSVP by e-mailing or calling ahead at (415) 558-8117.

WHY: With 2012 receding in the rear-view mirror, it's an ideal time to remember some of the luminaries who left this world during the calendar year. Frequent Oddball curator Lynn Cursaro has put together a program to tribute some of the personalities we're just going to have to learn to do without in 2013. The afterworld roll call includes (but is not limited to) Shankar, who died just over a month ago, Chris Marker, who died in July and is represented with his groundbreaking sci-fi short La Jetee, Davy Jones, whose February passing inspires an opportunity to bring out rare outtakes from his band the Monkees' television show, and author Maurice Sendak, whose work inspired Gene Dietch's 1975 animation In The Night Kitchen, and who since May has been exploring That Great Night Kitchen In The Sky.

HOW: All of the above will be screened on 16mm prints from Oddball's extensive archive. It says a lot about the depth of the collection that Cursaro was able to locate relevant works to honor each of the above-mentioned individuals. I understand she has more up her celluloid sleeve that aren't mentioned in the program announcement.

Castle In The Sky (1986)

WHO: Hayao Miyazaki, the greatest animator in Japan (and many argue, the world).

WHAT: In my unstudied opinion this was Miyazaki's first film in which he had all the resources (financial, autonomous, and creative) available to make a truly mature and cinematic animated film. When I say mature I don't mean 'for adults' of course; kids in every age group, from grammar school to retirement are able to connect with Castle in the Sky. But compared to Castle of Cagliostro, where he doesn't seem 110% interested in somebody else's material, and to Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, which is a tremendous achievement and undoubtedly his (as it was based on a manga he created), but occasionally feels constrained by the animation medium, here he feels absolutely comfortable and in control with every sequence. Want more? I tweeted and podcasted (with Studio Ghibli-philes Adam Hartzell and Seiko Takada) after seeing it last fall.

WHERE/WHEN: At the Camera 3 in San Jose, only at 6:30 PM today and 8:50 PM tomorrow.

WHY: When there are prints of Studio Ghibli films in your town, you go. If you live in the South Bay you have no excuse not to attend this film and as much of the rest of this Miyazaki series as you can. Other titles with remaining screenings include Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, My Neighbor Totoro, and Spirited Away. Yes these are the English-dubbed versions but don't let that hold you back from a visual experience you won't regret.

HOW: 35mm print.

The Two Eyes Of Adam Hartzell

If you didn't attend some wonderful repertory/revival film screenings in 2012, you missed out. As nobody could see them all, I've recruited Frisco Bay filmgoers to recall some of their own favorites of the year. An index of participants is found here.  

The following list comes from Adam Hartzell, a frequent contributor to Hell on Frisco Bay and other sites, and now available to follow on twitter.

I only have 4-eyes this year, appropriate since I am dependent on glasses in order to see far in front of me.  Here are my favorite rep house events - not necessarily in preferential order

1)  Pacific Film Archives, Berkeley, Compensation (Zeinabu irene Davis, 1999, U.S.), part of the L.A. Rebellion Series.  

Of course, Charles Burnett's classic Killer of Sheep (1977) is a masterpiece, but all I was able to catch from the L.A. Rebellion Series was Compensation and what a delight this film was to see.  As Davis noted in her Skype-recorded introduction, she re-configured the structure of the film after she found the best actress for the role, Michelle A. Banks.  Davis incorporated a partial silent film narrative because Banks is Deaf and Davis wanted to make sure Banks' community could enjoy the film as much as hearing folk could.  Such efforts to create a work accessible for a greater number of individuals is just plain awesome!  Again, the PFA is my teacher, introducing me to great cinema from artists I knew nothing about until their programs hit my mailbox.  

2)  Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, San Francisco - Six Degrees of Separation from Lilia Cuntapay (Antoinette Jadaone, 2011), part of New Filipino Cinema Series  

This list is limited to what we saw in theaters, so I will refrain from mentioning the excellent films, like Benito Bautista's Boundary (2011), that I saw as screeners on DVD, but of the two films I saw in the YBCA theatre, the US premiere of Six Degrees of Separation from Lilia Cuntapay was truly the highlight.  An amazing mock-umentary that leaves the willing real-life subject with such an amazing sense of dignity, you forget  for a moment you were watching a mock-umentary and realize again how fiction can often present us with greater truths than non-fiction.  

3)  The Bridge, San Francisco, Studio Ghibli Retrospective 

The perfect way to say goodbye to The Bridge's last year in operation.  How wonderful to see the long line of patrons queuing up for a screening of Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (Hiyao Miyazaki, 1984).  How nice for my wife to now know that when dubbed with care, My Neighbor Totoro (Miyazaki, 1988) can translate.  (Although she could do without all the extra music imposed upon necessary breaths of silence.)  What a true joy it was watching Kiki's Delivery Service (Miyazaki, 1989) with my goddaughter's friends.  What a surprise it was to see the amazing Only Yesterday (Isao Takahata, 1991) for the first time and learn that Ghibli doesn't need to just be Miyazaki.  And equally important, how nice to know that Studio Ghibli is human and can fail too with crap like The Cat Returns (Hiroyuki Morita, 2002).  

4)  The Roxie, San Francisco - Dance Craze (Joe Massot, 1981, United Kingdom) at San Francisco Documentary Festival,  

Once,  when I was in high school, the British ska band Madness was coming to The Shoppe, our local record shop back when every town had one, along  with a local bookstore and cinema.  In order to impede my brother and I  from playing hooky to meet them, my mother offered to go in our place and get albums signed for me, my brother, and our cousin Nathan.  I ended up with a signed copy of the 'One Step Beyond' 12-inch.  I also ended up with a story of my mother telling the young men of Madness - I really hope it was Suggs - "I don't know anything about you boys, but my sons sure like you."  

That is why I went to see Dance Craze as a double date with my British friend who experienced much of what we were witnessing on screen.  Dance Craze is a wonderful snapshot and breakbeat of the  vibrancy of youth creating (or, in this case, re-creating, since this was a revival of the ska genre) musical movement that would make its way to my little city of Berea, Ohio well across the pond.

Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs (1937)

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WHO: Supervising director was David Hand, who started his career as an animator at the Fleischer Brothers' studio, and directed some of the better early Mickey Mouse films including Building A Building after moving to Walt Disney's studio.

WHAT: Contrary to widespread belief, this is not the first animated feature, nor even the oldest existing one. But it is the first one made by Disney or any other U.S. company, and the first to become a worldwide sensation and box-office powerhouse. It's also the first film I ever saw, and I still vividly remember how frightened I was by certain scenes at the time. According to my mom, we saw it at the Stonestown Twin when I was four years old.

WHERE/WHEN: Plays the Castro Theatre four times a day today through Sunday.

WHY: Though it premiered in 1937, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs had its nationwide rollout 75 years ago, in 2013. This, along with the recent bicentennial of the Grimm Brothers' first publication, makes this winter (and, as Nathaniel Rogers points out, this Oscar season) a perfect time to celebrate the character. The Walt Disney Family Museum has an exhibit about the making of this film up through April 14th, and at least two other cinematic representations are coming to local screens in the next few weeks: the 1916 version that reputedly inspired a young Walt Disney's vision screens at the SF Silent Film Festival Winter Event February 16th, and the 2012 neo-silent film Blancanieves screens at the Rafael January 11th as part of that theatre's For Your Consideration series devoted to this year's Foreign-Language Film Oscar sumbissions from 14 countries. This is Spain's entry.

HOW: Digital (DCP) presentation of a new 75th anniversary restoration.

Festival of Horror

There isn't a day between now and Thanksgiving in which at least one film festival can't be found somewhere here on Frisco Bay. This has actually been the case since the United Nations Association Film Festival began on October 18th. It ends tonight, while the Chinese American Film Festival ends tomorrow, and the San Francisco Film Society's French Cinema Now series runs until this Tuesday, October 30th (I can recommend the closing night selection Sister by Ursula Meier of Home notoriety, who will be on hand for the screening. Check Film-415 for more suggestions). The upstart Silicon Valley Film Festival comes to Santa Clara beginning Halloween night, and the venerable American Indian Film Festival begins here in San Francisco two days later. Before that's over, SF IndieFest's 11th Annual DocFest will have begun its two-week run at the Roxie and other venues. In the midst of all of these festivals are... more festivals, like the California Independent Film Festival in Orinda and Moraga, and the SFFS's Cinema By The Bay and New Italian Cinema here in Frisco proper. I count twelve in all, and that doesn't include Not Necessarily Noir III, the excellent series running through Halloween, where I've already seen brilliant neo-noir gems like To Live And Die In L.A. and Miami Blues as well as an extraordinarily rare 35mm print of Monte Hellman's 1974 Cockfighter. Perhaps I ought to think of that as a festival, as it self-identifies as on the Roxie website, as well. Anyway, after this dozen-festival (or baker's dozen?) streak ends on November 21st, we're likely to be in for a month or two of comparative festival drought, with only the Another Hole in the Head genre film festival and the touring Found Footage Festival detected by my feelers until Noir City opens in late January. Noir City's full line-up will be revealed at a December 19th Castro Theatre double-bill screening of as-yet-undisclosed titles. 

With two big writing deadlines (for forthcoming publications, more details later) and other activities, October's been busy enough for me that I haven't been able to go out to the cinema as much as I'd normally like, much less post on this blog. Because I've got big plans for celebrating Halloween with a family member's wedding on that day, I won't be able to see any of the horror movies playing during the last few days of October, like the double-features playing the final two days of Not Necessarily Noir III, the one playing Tuesday at the Castro Theatre, the screening of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (and the Cameraman's Revenge) with live organ accompaniment at Davies Symphony Hall that night, or the screenings of the original John Carpenter Halloween at the Balboa Theatre Tuesday and Wednesday.

Luckily for a busy groomsman like myself, there will be many opportunities to celebrate Halloween belatedly with plenty of special horror movie screenings throughout November and even into December. Of foremost interest is probably the Stanford Theatre, which has just extended its published calendar until the end of next month, continuing with the Universal Pictures centennial celebration it began in September by moving from the 1920s & 30s into the 1940s. As I mentioned in my last post, Universal horror rarities Werewolf of London and Secret of the Blue Room will screen on Halloween, but also on the following day before being switched out for a print of the famous Lon Chaney, Sr. silent Phantom of the Opera on Friday, November 2. Now we know that Universal's 1943 Phantom starring Claude Rains will play November 3-4 alongside Cobra Woman, a film that rarely gets labeled a horror movie, but that in my mind connects directly to RKO supernatural thrillers of its era like Cat People and The Leopard Man.   November 14-16 brings a double-bill of the Karloff-less 1940 reboot The Mummy's Hand and the Lon Chaney, Jr. star-maker The Wolf Man from 1941. The rest of November at the Stanford showcases Universal's range, bumping a Hitchcock thriller (Saboteur) up against a W.C. Fields farce (The Bank Dick), placing a Basil Rathbone/Nigel Bruce Sherlock Holmes favorite (The Scarlet Claw) with an Ole Olson/Chic Johnson vehicle in which they make a cameo (Crazy House) , and devoting double-bills to Robert Siodmak noirs, or Abbot & Costello musical-comedies. A complete Deanna Durbin retrospective is promised for December at the venue.

Back to horror movies, the Napa Valley Film Festival is showing two of the scariest ones ever made alongside documentaries about them. Stanley Kubrick's The Shining screens November 7th just after the Frisco Bay premiere of Rodney Ascher's much-anticipated investigation into the film's cult and scholarly following Room 237, while George Romero's Night of the Living Dead screens after the last of three showings of what looks to be a more traditional making-of documentary, Year of the Living Dead. Less "traditionally" a horror movie, but no less horrific, and (in my view) no less great a film than Romero's, is Ted Kotcheff's Wake In Fright, which similarly finds one man up against a threatening army of individuals who want to turn him into one of their own (in this case brain-numbed alcoholic Australians rather than brain-eating zombies). It currently screens in 35mm at the Opera Plaza through at least November 1st. It also plays at the Shattuck in Berkeley, but I'm not sure that venue still has 35mm projection equipment on hand after a recent digital makeover, which I've been told has also left the California Theatre without 35mm capability, and the Embarcadero with only one of its screens 35mm-capable.

The films of Jan Svankmajer are frequently labeled as horror films, justifiably so, I think. There's little more cinematically unsettling than the visceral visions on display in films like Alice, Little Otik, etc. The Yerba Buena Center For The Arts devotes most of November in its screening room to the Czech animator, and is screening works by a perhaps-similar animator named Nathalie Djurberg in the galleries through January. The aforementioned Another Hole in the Head (HoleHead) festival has moved its festival from its traditional early-summer slot to bridge November and December, specifically in order to improve its position in the festival marketplace for for horror films particularly (undoubtedly the fest has made some spotty picks in the past), and is bringing such titles as The Killing Games, Road To Hell, and Deadball. The latter is HoleHead favorite director Yudai Yamaguchi's return to the scene of the crime of his first feature, Battlefield Baseball: the baseball diamond. San Francisco Giants fans should turn out in droves to see a splatter movie about a pitcher with a literally deadly arm, but note: one of Yamaguchi's previous film projects put him afoul of a Yomiuri Giant in 2005.

Atypically, the HoleHead offering I'm probably most curious about is actually not a film at all but the opening night party entertainment: a one-man Oingo Boingo cover act that goes by the name Only A Lad but is also known as Starbeast II. Oingo Boingo was one of the bands I saw perform live as often as I could in my high school and college days, seeing them six times before frontman Danny Elfman devoted his musical attention exclusively to composing film scores. It was a band formed out of the ashes of Los Angeles theatre troupe the Mystic Knights Of Oingo Boingo, whose sensibility was (so I understand) best documented by the 1980 cult-film oddity Forbidden Zone, which will screen at Terra Gallery before the opening-night party in a new colorized version. Director (and Danny's older brother) Richard Elfman will be in attendance to answer questions like: "why would you want to colorize Forbidden Zone?" He is known to be an excellent raconteur, and I confirmed this at an in-person screening (of the original version) at the Lumiere Theatre in 2004. Certainly one of the most memorable screenings I ever took in at the Lumiere, which sadly closed its doors as a Landmark-operated theatre just over a month ago, with no indication that it will find a new tenant to operate it in the time since.

Since Forbidden Zone really is no more a horror movie than The Rocky Horror Picture Show is (its relationship to the weirdest pop culture artifacts of the 1930s is not dissimilar to that of Rocky Horror's relationship to 1950s drive-in movies), let me steer back on the track I keep veering off of: horror movies showing after Halloween. The Pacific Film Archive's November-December calendar actually includes a number of horror or borderline-horror films on it. Barry Gifford will be on hand on the last Thursday in November and the first two Saturdays in December, for a five-program tribute to his screenwriting career including the often bone-chilling Lost Highway and more collaborations with David Lynch and international autuers. And the continuing fall tribute to pre-nouvelle vague French filmmaking includes a pair of eerie, supernatural-themed classics and one authentique horror movie, Georges Franju's unforgettable Eyes Without A Face. One last note: when I first saw that the PFA would presenting three new restorations of diverse, masterpiece-level works by avant-garde filmmakers on Halloween night I wrote it off as counter-programming. But I recently remembered that Vincent Price narrates one of the three, the lovely Notes On The Port Of St. Francis by Frank Stauffacher. It's good that the horror movie master's sonorous tones will be able to entertain an audience that evening, even if I'm going to have to miss it myself.

South And North

Since my previous post on the Frisco Bay screening scene, two major pieces of news have caught the eyes of cinephiles like myself. First, the Stanford Theatre in Palo Alto quietly began a new multi-calendar series last week. It's an extensive centennial tribute to Universal Pictures, focusing attention on the oldest of the Hollywood studios, which mogul Carl Laemmle formed out of his company IMP (Independent Moving Pictures Company) and several others after emerging victorious in his legal battle with the 'old guard' of American motion picture production: Edison, Bioscope, Vitagraph, etc. a.k.a. "The Trust". The first picture made at his Universal City studio after this formation, At Old Fort Dearborn, was released on September 28, 1912, and was itself a centennial commemoration of a War of 1812 battle taking place where Chicago would eventually be founded. Though this film (if it indeed exists) is not announced for the Stanford schedule, there are three silent film presentations between now and the end of the calendar: two early entries in the famous "Universal Horror" series: the spooky Cat and the Canary this Friday September 21 & Lon Chaney's famous Phantom of the Opera November 2nd, as well as Erich von Stroheim's 1922 drama Foolish Wives on October 12th. All three will feature Dennis James at the Wurlitzer organ, and will hopefully be followed by more Universal silent films in subsequent calendars.

The Good Fairy (William Wyler, 1935) screen capture from Kino DVD

The meat of the Stanford schedule over the next two months is not 1920s silents, however, but a healthy sampling of features from the 1930-1935 period, all on 35mm prints as usual at this venue. Essentially all of the surviving Universal Horror films from this period will screen, from famous titles like Dracula and the Mummy to lesser-knowns Werewolf of London and Secret of the Blue Room, paired on Halloween night. With quite a few films by melodrama master John Stahl (Magnificent Obsession & Imitation of Life make a double-bill of Douglas Sirk pre-makes Oct. 13-14) and a complete retrospective of James Whale's work from 1931's Waterloo Bridge and Frankenstein to his 1935 Bride of Frankenstein and Remember Last Night?, the series is ideal for auteurists. If this Wednesday & Thursday's pairing of Frank Borzage's rarely-shown but highly-regarded Little Man, What Now? with one of my very favorite William Wyler films (from a Preston Sturges screenplay) The Good Fairy doesn't entice you to Palo Alto I'm not sure what I can say. Maybe you have an excuse if you're immersing yourself in one of the two other current studio-focused film series happening in Berkeley right now. I was sad to miss Stahl's 1933 Only Yesterday last week but glad I caught Isao Takahata's 1991 film with coincidentally the same (English) title- it was as equal to the best films of Hayao Miyazaki as it was different from them, and it plays again at the California Theatre this Wednesday only.

The other studio-focused series in Berkeley is the Pacific Film Archive's Nikkatsu centennial, which I'm sad to say I haven't been able to attend any of yet. (How could I let myself miss a rare Mizoguchi film?) There are still quite a few screenings left to go however, including a Daisuke Ito chambara from the silent era and three Seijun Suzuki selections from the 1960s. Like Universal, Nikkatsu is still in action today, releasing films like Rent-A-Cat, which will screen nearby next month. This brings me to screening news #2: Last Wednesday's press conference and announcement of the program for the Mill Valley Film Festival happening in various Marin County venues from October 4-14. 

In Another Country (Hong Sangsoo, 2012) courtesy Mill Valley Film Festival

Though the press conference itself was underwhelming (why rent the Dolby Labs screening room and then show compressed clips with cut-off subtitles and obfuscating pixelation? Well, at least the festival trailer looked great.) the program itself more than made up for that. Quite a few of the festival circuit's hottest titles, by veteran auteurs and up-and-coming makers alike, are part of the MVFF program this year. Whether this is because the festival is celebrating an anniversary itself (its 35th) or because of other factors, I don't know, but there's no doubt I'm finding more to lure me on the trek North this year than I've ever seen on a prior Mill Valley program. I don't feel left out of hyped Eastern festivals, knowing that 7 highly-anticipated films from the New York Film Festival's main slate are set to play here in less than a month: Christian Mungiu's Beyond The Hills, Paolo and Vittorio Taviani's Caesar Must Die, Antonio Méndez Esparza's Here And There, Leos Carax's Holy Motors, Ang Lee's Life of Pi, Abbas Kiarostami's Like Someone In Love, and Miguel Gomes's Tabu. These are joined by more new films I have I hopes for, foremost among them the first screen team-up between one of my favorite international directors Hong Sangsoo, and one of my favorite international performers, Isabelle Huppert: In Another Country. 

I'm also curious to see Nor'Easter and Fat Kid Rules The World, both first features from American directors Andrew Brotzman and Matthew Lillard, respectively. I believe these are the first films completed with some assistance from Lucas McNelly and his ambitious A Year Without Rent project (full disclosure: my roommates and I contributed a night on a couch to this project) to have public screenings in the Bay Area. There's also The Wall, which comes to Mill Valley after screening at the Berlin & Beyond festival this month, a fascinating Frisco-focused documentary called The Institute, and the annual offering from the prolific local legend Rob Nilsson, whose films rarely screen in San Francisco proper, even when they're made here. This one is called Maelstrom and is set in Marin, making MVFF an even-more ideal showcase than usual. 

Tales of the Night (Michel Ocelot, 2011)  courtesy Mill Valley Film Festival

Thanks to the festival's timing on the "awards calendar" there's always a certain amount of "Oscarbaition" at Mill Valley, and this year Ben Affleck is expected to be on hand to excite people about his upcoming Argo and David O. Russell will be here with Silver Linings Playbook. But I'm much more interested in an Oscar-ineligible animated feature, silhouettist Michel Ocelot's first 3-D venture Tales of the Night, which screened in Frisco once last year, in French with English subtitles. I missed it with some regret but won't miss the subtitles when I catch it dubbed into English at Mill Valley this year. A recent viewing of the otherwise-excellent Flying Swords of Dragon Gate (which comes to the Castro next month) made me realize I haven't yet trained myself to read words on one focal plane while taking in stereoscopic action at the same time. Thoughtful dubbing is usually less damaging to animation than live-action work anyway. Note that Robert Bloomberg's 3-D short How To Draw A Cat, which screens along with Ocelot's feature, is, contra the festival catalog, not made by young Croatian artists. There is an animation workshop as part of the MVFF Children's Filmfest, and the other features in this sidebar will be preceded by shorts, but labeling How To Draw a Cat as such was a publishing error.

With all the treats in store, it may be a bit disappointing to learn that all the above-mentioned films will be screening digitally rather than in 35mm prints. This is the reality of film festival exhibition for the present and foreseeable future, however, and although the main MVFF venue, the Rafael Film Center, still retains its 35mm projection capability, they understandably also want to show off their recently-upgraded digital projection systems. To festival director Mark Fishkin's press conference promise that the festival screenings will look much better than the clips shown did, I can only say: they'd better! I feel it's worth noting the handful of titles that I'm told will be sourced from actual film reels and not DCP or other digital formats: the painter/film director biopic Renoir, Brazil's Xinga (also a biopic), Polish thriller To Kill A Beaver, and two of the selections in the shorts program entitled Crosseyed And Painless. And two of the retrospective presentations as well: the screening of 

La Jetée that will accompany the October 6th (but not the October 8th) showing of Emiko Omori's tribute to its departed director, To Chris Marker, an Unsent Letter, and the October 7th 35mm screening of Yoyo, a 1965 comedy co-written by Jean Claude-Carrière, and directed by and starring the all-but-forgotten French clown Pierre

Étaix- a pair mentored and introduced by the great Jacques Tati. If 

Étaix's name doesn't ring a bell his face may if you've seen Fellini's The Clowns, Oshima's Max Mon Amour, Iosseliani's Chantrapas, Kaurismäi's Le Havre, or (not bloody likely) Lewis's The Day The Clown Cried.

Holy Motors (Leos Carax, 2012) courtesy Mill Valley Film Festival

With the studios' all-or-nothing digital push, 35mm prints are disappearing from festivals all over- not just Mill Valley but household-name festivals like Cannes and Toronto as well. This is purely speculation, but it may be that the main reason why this year's MVFF line-up seems stronger than usual is that distributors are more willing to let digital versions of their films play at a regional festival like this than they were willing to send one of their few 35mm prints to Marin in the days when celluloid was king. Small distributors are giving in to pressure to "go digital" just as commercial cinemas are, and the whole film ecosystem as we know it may be unrecognizable in a year or sooner. I'm told a touring 35mm print of Holy Motors will grace at least one local Landmark Theatres screen about a month after it plays digitally at MVFF, but this may already be the exception to the rule.

All I know is, I'm determined to see e.g. Like Someone In Love in Marin County next month, even if it is going to be shown from a Digital Cinema Package (DCP). And if IFC distributes a print of it to a local arthouse sometime this winter or spring or later, I imagine I'll happily pay to see it again there as well. I mean, it's an Abbas Kiarostami feature set in Japan. Of course I'm going to want to see it at least twice! Now, off to buy my ticket befpre it goes to "rush" status...

September Song

My latest article for Fandor is about Uruguayan cinema, past and present, focusing particularly on three films from the South American country that have been made available by the Global Film Institute to watch on that site's streaming service: Whisky from 2004, Leo's Room from 2009, and A Useful Life, one of my favorite films seen in 2010. A film about the (fictional) closing of a cinematheque, A Useful Life has only grown more poignant in the 2 years since I first saw it, with the threat of mass closures of small cinemas and projectionist job loss looming ever larger on the horizon. The convenience of streaming services is a wonderful thing, especially for those who live in hinterlands where specialty cinema-going options simply do not exist. But I'm glad I live in a city which still cherishes diversity in its filmgoing options, and where this month I was able to once again watch A Useful Life in 35mm, this time on the Castro Theatre's giant, immersive screen.

Like many local cinephiles, I've been attending the Castro even more than usual in the past few weeks- at least considering that August has been a month with no film festivals there. I've made acquaintance with previously-unseen films like Phil Karlson's top-drawer noir Kansas City Confidential and John Huston's phenomenal boxing picture Fat City. I've revisited favorites like A Useful Life and Bruce Conner's explosive Crossroads. And those are just a few highlights I attended. The Castro kicked off its 90th 91st year of operation with its heaviest month of classic repertory in memory: dozens of golden-age Hollywood gems, with a smattering of foreign films and recent cinephile-bait. 3 of the films in the newest edition of the influential Sight & Sound Critics Top 10 announced this month have already played on this screen in August, and before the month ends the new #1 champ Vertigo screens- It plays in 70mm tonight through September 3, and there's no way I'm missing it.  In addition, a 70mm sneak-preview screening of Paul Thomas Anderson's new film The Master made a sell-out crowd of alert PTA fans happy on August 21- one day after the event was announced. If you missed it (like I did), you may be relieved to learn it was NOT the final chance to see Joaquin Phoenix in 70mm, as there is at least one Frisco Bay theatre with the capability to show the ultrasized format and that has it booked for a September 21st opening: Oakland's Grand Lake. And I wouldn't be surprised to see another Castro showing sometime in the future- though perhaps not for a few months or more.

If August's selections at Frisco's most beloved picture palace paid tribute to films from all nine decades of the Castro's history, the September calendar looks more to the recent past, present, and perhaps future, as it seems concocted to reach out to younger movie lovers with cult classics from their own lifespan. With the exceptions of the Vertigo booking (a holdover from August), a posthumous Ernest Borgnine double-bill (Bad Day At Black Rock & The Wild Bunch September 13), and a fascinating-sounding post-war, pre-Neuer Deutscher Film festival selection, every film playing the Castro next month was made after 1970. But it's not a return to the "bad old days" of giving underwhelming Hollywood franchise fodder (and the occasional quality mainstream movie) long runs  that edge interesting selections off the screen. No, the Castro is still programming creatively, like showing five square-offs between the films of Quentin Tarantino and the aforementioned Paul Thomas Anderson, in chronological order (reminiscent of a similar PTA vs. Wes Anderson series five years ago. Speaking of Wes, his latest Moonrise Kingdom plays in 35mm on Sep. 17-18).  There's also back-to-school Wednesdays, a brilliant pairing of new dance documentaries Sep. 25-26, and stints for a couple of festivals: Berlin & Beyond and the 3rd i South Asian Film Festival.

Yes, September brings festival season upon us, and if you check my updated sidebar to the right of this page, you'll see that I've linked to programs for no fewer than twelve Frisco Bay film festivals occurring in this one month. If you wanted to attend a festival every day in September, you'd only be stymied on the 10th, 11th and 12th of the month (and who knows what my detection systems might pick up on before then?) There's no way I can do justice to all of these festivals, but I have seen a few of the features they're bringing already. I saw the 3rd i opening night film The Island President, a worthy primer on the tiny Indian Ocean nation of the Maldives, and its intertwined political and environmental challenges, at Cinequest in San Jose. Also at Cinequest, I saw The Battle of the Queens, a slick Swiss documentary record of cow-on-cow face-offs that's more interesting than it sounds. This unusual Alpine rodeo showcase is part of Berlin & Beyond along with Alexander Sokurov's unpleasant but eye-popping Goethe adaptation Faust, the latest romantic fable entitled Baikonur by quirky German helmer Veit Helmer (who has failed to recapture much of the magic of his feature debut Tuvalu in 3 subsequent fiction-feature tries, in my book), and the Rainer Werner Fassbinder masterpiece Lola, Lola screened the Castro in a 35mm print at Berlin & Beyond 2 years ago, as a last-minute addendum. This time it plays digitally at the Goethe-Institute as part of a 4-film tribute to actor Mario Adorf, who will be on hand for premiere screenings of a "director's cut" version of The Tin Drum and of his newest film The Rhino and the Dragonfly. Perhaps the Berlin & Beyond film I'm most curious about is 4th in this Adorf tribute, which I referred to in the prior paragraph: Georg Tressler's 1959 Ship of the Dead. I know virtually nothing about West Germany's cinema prior to the earliest Herzog & Wenders films, so a chance to see this on 35mm is very appealing. Also of note: opening-night film Barbara by Christian Petzold was just chosen as Germany's selection for the next Foreign Language Film Oscar contest. 

Another geographically-themed festival, the Hong Kong Cinema series, looks like an excellent set of films for both newcomers and aficionados of what some believe is still the Chinese-language cinema's most vibrant production center. 1990s landmarks (Fruit Chan's Made In Hong Kong, Peter Chan's Comrades, Almost A Love Story and The Longest Nite, from producer Johnnie To's Milkyway Studio) share space with enticing new films like To's Romancing In Thin Air, which has largely been shunned by American and European festivals, and Ann Hui's highly acclaimed A Simple Life. The latter played briefly at local multiplexes earlier this year, but I know I'm not the only Hui fan who found out about it too late, so I'm very glad the San Francisco Film Society, which hosts this festival as part of its Fall Season, is bringing it back. Along with a Brent Green installation in the Mission District, Hong Kong Cinema launches a new year of Film Society programming. Major changes are afoot for the venerable institution these days, as a new executive director (Ted Hope) fills the shoes left by Bingham Ray and Graham Leggatt, at the same time that one of Leggatt's most visible legacies, a year-round screening venue at New People Cinema, has been abandoned with the non-renewal of the lease. Nonetheless, several fall events including Hong Kong Cinema will occur at the venue.

Cheryl Eddy's fall film preview article from last week's SF Bay Guardian names more upcoming festivals not yet listed on my site, as their line-ups have not been announced. Her preview also hints at some of the seriously copious goodies revealed in fall screening announcements from institutions like the Pacific Film Archive, and SF Cinematheque. But I'm particularly intrigued by what her article mentions that doesn't appear on the internet otherwise. For example, hints from Craig Baldwin's yet-to-be-announced Other Cinema program (Damon Packard? yes!) and word from Yerba Buena Center For The Arts that in addition to the masterpieces by Luis Buñuel, Jacques Rivette, and Chantal Akerman listed (among other tantalizers) on the venue's website, they'll be hosting a retrospective of films by Czech animation demigod Jan Švankmajer in December. If it's like the retro recently concluded in Chicago it will include each of his feature films from his 1988 masterpiece Alice to his 2010 release (never before screened on Frisco Bay) Surviving Life (Theory and Practice), as well as several of his best short films. But we'll see,

Eddy mentions a venue I've still yet to attend (to my shame): the Vortex Room, which from what I can tell has no webpage other than its Twitter and Facebook presences. (Am I wrong?), and notes that the Rafael Film Center is gearing up for the Mill Valley Film Festival but is otherwise relatively quiet in terms of repertory & special events (as opposed to day-to-day arthouse). And she drops hints about the Roxie that have only appeared on that venue's website since publication. Now we know the full, jaw-dropping line-up for their Not Necessarily Noir III film series (or should I count it as a festival?) devoted to crime and horror films made between 1968 and 2005- "neo-noirs" one might say, if one thought such a term could apply to such diverse fare as John Woo's Hard-Boiled, Sam Peckinpah's Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia, Jonathan Demme's Something Wild, Carl Franklin's One False Move and Brian De Palma's Body Double -to list some of the better-known titles I've seen before. Rarities abound in this awesome set of films- nearly all sourced from 35mm prints.

What she must not have known before her article was put to press is that the touring series of 35mm prints of films from Japan's master animator Hayao Miyazaki and his Studio Ghibli cohort, which has been making its way around the country all year, finally visits Frisco Bay in September. Starting September 7th, the Bridge Theatre plays 12 of these films over the course of a week- actually 13 prints, as the truly perfect My Neighbor Totoro will screen in both English-subtitled and English-dubbed prints on Sep. 8. Then, the California Theatre in Berkeley screens 11 of the films, as well as two others, between September 14th and 26th.  All nine of the Miyazaki-directed films, as well as Isao Takahata's Only Yesterday and Hiroyuki Morita's The Cat Returns screen at both venues. Takahata's My Neighbors the Yamadas shows only at the Bridge, on September 13, and his Pom Poko and Yoshifumi Kondo's Whisper of the Heart show only at the California Theatre, on the 25th & 26th respectively. The Bridge and the California are my favorite Landmark theatres in San Francisco and the East Bay, and knowing that the Landmark chain is planning to convert its theatres to digital projection only makes me wonder if this series may be a last hurrah for 35mm projectors at these venues. I hope not, but I plan to soak in as much of the series as I can on one side of the bay or the other.

One last recommendation before September arrives: if like me you are a fan of the films of Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul you must take advantage of the opportunity  to see his installation Phantoms of Nabua at the Asian Art Museum. Made during the process leading up to his completion of his Cannes top prize-winning film Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, this single-channel work is just as mysterious, beautiful, and medium-specific as any of his feature films. It has been streamed online, and may still be available to view that way, but it really demands to be seen in installation form, where the figures are life-sized and approximately level to the viewer.  Several friends and acquaintances, including at least one who had never encountered an Apichatpong work before, have told me of being so transfixed they watched the approximately 9-minute piece over and over several times before moving on to another part of the museum. It's such an important work that it inspired the Asian Art Museum name of its contemporary Asian art exhibit: Phantoms of Asia. Unfortunately the exhibit must come down after September 2nd, but fortunately the museum is free of charge on that day, as it is on the first Sunday of every month. I plan to go back myself. See you there?