Trash Humpers (2009)

WHO: Harmony Korine directed this.

WHAT: I'm not exactly sure, I must say. I didn't go out of my way to see this film when it was in theatres a few years back, so I don't really know if it's an "empty provocation" or a "low-caste landscape study of the Deep South, a kind of response to William Eggleston's work refracted through notably different aesthetic and political lenses", as Mike D'Angelo and Michael Sicinski said in the same article in 2010.

WHERE/WHEN: At the Roxie tonight only at 11:45.

WHY: Though I skipped Trash Humpers at the Roxie and elsewhere the first time around, I can't deny that seeing John Waters's #1 movie of 2013 Spring Breakers earlier this year but has made me interested in filling in my Harmony Korine gaps. And though I never would have expected it, it's screening tonight as the official/unofficial capper to a pair of triple-bills made up entirely of 35mm prints of films I've never seen.

Last month's edition of Jesse Hawthorne Ficks's MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS was the first time I partook in the new format for this long-standing movie marathon. After watching The Lone Ranger on glorious 35mm with a couple hundred fans and skeptics (many of whom I think were won over), the Castro began filling with more bodies, come for the 9:30 showing of another Johnny Depp Western, Dead Man, which was a truly awesome experience on that big screen. When that was over, a few dozen of us made the the 15-minute walk from Castro Street to 16th and Valencia, where the Roxie ticket-taker gave any of us presenting our ticket from that night's Castro show a discount on the midnight screening of Alex Cox's Walker. I didn't do a survey, but I suspect there may have been more people there who hadn't taken in the Depp films that evening than those who had.

Tonight's is a kind of replay of that, except with a different set of films of course. In this case Jodie Foster's 1995 Home For the Holidays and the most surprisingly controversial Christmas movie of the season, the 2003 Love Actually screen at 7:15 and 9:15 respectively at the Castro, giving enough time for audiences to make their way (the 33-Stanyan bus line is another option for those who only like walking a few blocks) to the Roxie in time for Trash Humpers. 

I haven't seen any of the three films but Korine seems like the most extreme "odd one out" I've ever been aware of Ficks programming in one of his triple-bills. Though it sound like an "odd one out" on just about any triple-bill imaginable. Here's another you don't have to imagine: the Roxie is showing a completely different pairing at 7:30 and 9:30: Grindhouse Releasing 35mm prints of Gone With the Pope and An American Hippie in Israel. Though Trash Humpers is not actually connected to that double-bill and requires a separate admission ticket, you can look at it as three movies for the price of two.

HOW: All five movies screening at the Castro and the "Big" Roxie tonight will show on 35mm prints.

Walker (1987)

WHO: Alex Cox directed and co-edited this.

WHAT: The first American (co-)production to be shot on location (for the most part) in Nicaragua.  A truly bizarre film about a bizarre piece of 19th-century history, it stars Ed Harris as William Walker, the mercenary filibuster from Tennessee who tried to make Nicaragua become one of the United States the way Texas (among others) became one: through Anglo settlement and conquest.

Such a brutal history makes for a sometimes brutal movie, and director Cox drew inspiration from violent Western epics like The Wild Bunch and Once Upon a Time in the West to create his most lavishly morbid film.  But he also broke all the rules of period pieces by connecting the historical events to the contemporaneous Reagan-era policies in the region, in a way I wouldn't want to spoil for those who have not yet seen this.

WHERE/WHEN: Tonight only at the Roxie, at 11:59 PM.

WHY: Walker is the capper to the next-to-last MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS triple-bill of 2013, and it's a doozy. Starting this summer with the MiDNITES showing of Dario Argento's Tenebrae these three-prong events have involved a crawl from a Castro Theatre double-bill to the nearby Roxie for the final show. This will be my first time embarking one of these crawls, and I couldn't be more excited for the line-up.

First up is my favorite big-budget Hollywood movie in recent memory The Lone Ranger, which I wrote about when it was still in cinemas this past August. I very much look forward to an upcoming piece on the film by my friend and fellow fan Ryland Walker Knight, but in the meantime I'm excited to attend the my first 35mm viewing of a film that was shot largely on 35mm by Bojan Bazelli (cinematographer for Paul Schrader's Patty Hearst and Abel Ferrara's King of New York and Body Snatchers among other films on his very interesting resume), but that has until tonight only shown at digital-only theatres within San Francisco.

The second program in the trio is Jim Jarmusch's Dead Man, one of my favorite films of all time but one I have never seen on a truly huge screen like the Castro's (it frequently played at the Red Vic when that was still a going concern). It was Jonathan Rosenbaum's 1996 article on this film that made me first aware of a sub-genre known as the "acid western" that describes it, Walker, Dennis Hopper's The Last Movie, Monte Hellman's The Shooting and other films, and that tonight's MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS event borrows for its title.

As far as I know, Rosenbaum has thus far not weighed in (or perhaps even seen) The Lone Ranger, so I don't know how he would react to it being grouped with the other two films. But I think it might just work. It has a hallucinatory quality and a sense of existence as a counterpoint to mainstream filmmaking (though its status as a highly-budgeted Disney release surely complicates this quite a bit; the friction here may help account for its poor showing with critics).

Obviously tonight's triple-bill is meant to highlight the approaches toward portraying the clash of Anglo-Saxon and indigenous American cultures in the eighteenth century, in ways that draw from and rebel against the traditional ways Hollywood filmmakers have portrayed this topic in Westerns during their heyday in the 1910s through 1970s. It's probably a coincidence that this triple-bill is occurring in the middle of the 38th annual American Indian Film Festival, which is one of the country's best showcases for films made by and about the modern descendents of native peoples from this continent. If you've never sampled this excellent festival, I highly recommend doing so before its screenings end tomorrow. Also probably a coincidence is the Sunday evening 16mm screening of Kent MacKenzie's unique 1961 film The Exiles at the Berkeley Underground Film Society. I recommend that too.

HOW:All films tonight screen via 35mm prints.

Scanners (1981)

WHO: David Cronenberg wrote and directed this.

WHAT: Sandwiched between the ripe-for-analysis The Brood and Videodrome in Cronenberg's career, Scanners today seems like a comparatively overlooked entity in the Canadian filmmaker's mid-career period of rising budgets, increasing international exposure, and deepening intellectual approach to genre filmmaking. Everyone remembers the opening and closing scenes in this film about telekinetic combat between warring corporate and underground factions, but rarely are the rest of the film's plot details, or its aesthetic strategies, discussed at any length. One essay that delves into a particularly neglected example of the latter is Paul Theberge's Cronenberg-focused chapter of Off the Planet: Music, Sound and Science Fiction Cinema. Here's an excerpt:

the most significant uses of electronic sounds take place in relation to the theme of telepathic power: as this power is essentially invisible, Cronenberg must turn to sound in order to make it manifest. Indeed, it is through sound that the scanning power is not only made manifest but, also, given th kind of physical intensity that justifies its enormous effects on other individuals and on the external world. Typically, the sound of the scanning tones (derived from raw oscillator sounds and other effects associated with the 'classic; electronic studio of the 1950s and 1960s) increases in intensity until its power is suddenly unleashed and its effects made visible in the cinematic image

WHERE/WHEN: Screens at 9:30 tonight only at the Castro Theatre.

WHY: With new retrospectives, film series, and film festivals being announced an an almost daily basis, we're now entering what must be the busiest couple months for Frisco Bay cinephilia. From now until Thanksgiving we can expect a bare minimum of one film festival running every weekend. It's about enough to make your head explode.

Another strand of cinephilia over the next month and a half is the annual procession of horror films programmed to get us in the mood for Halloween. What better a day than Friday the 13th to mark the unofficial launch of this particularly welcome programming thread. The Castro is a favored venue for gatherings of scary movie lovers, and is doing a great job getting us prepared for the spooky season. After tonight's Scanners screening there's a brilliant double-bill of the art-horror classic Carnival of Souls with the creepy (but not normally thought of as horror per se) Last Year in Marienbad this Sunday, Burnt Offerings and the "Amelia" segment of the made-for-TV Trilogy of Terror as part of a tribute to the recently-deceased Karen Black on September 18th, a pairing of The Shining with The Changeling September 27th, and a day of digital 3-D versions of the two most famous 50s-era 3-D horror films House of Wax and Creature From the Black Lagoon, along with a matinee screening of the 2008 documentary Watch Horror Films -- Keep America Strong. 

That's September 29th, but Castro's October horror programming has also been partially revealed on its website, including a new restoration of The Wicker Man October 4-5, an Isabelle Adjani (at her palest) show of Nosteratu the Vampyre and Possession October 6, Psycho (with Marnie) October 13,  Alien (with Dark Star) on the 23rd, and an early 1980s werewolf duo of Joe Dante's The Howling and John Landis's American Werewolf In London. Elegantly capping the month on Friday November 1st is a disturbingly amazing double-bill of what are probably Cronenberg's scariest films The Fly and Dead Ringers.  

The MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS website has not been updated to reflect the rumors that its October 18th Castro show will involve a pair of horror movies famously frightening for what's *not* seen on-screen, or that after its Castro screenings of Can't Hardly Wait and Rules of Attraction next Friday, September 20th, the MANiACS will be crawling to the Roxie for a very rare 35mm showing of Ted Nicolaou's dementedly Cronenberg-esque Terrorvision. There's not much else horror-related on the Roxie's latest printed calendar, except for the Film On Film Foundation's presentation of The Witch Who Came From the Sea, a 1970s exploitation rarity that involves more psychosexual melodrama than straight-up horror. It (along with another Matt Cimber-directed film called Lady Cocoa) constitutes the first FOFF presentation in over two years, and is thus a welcome return for the organization (which has dutifully maintained the ever-useful Bay Area Film Calendar in the meantime). 

I hesitate to mention Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom, screening at the Roxie this Sunday, because although it is sometimes grouped with horror films because of its extremely disturbing imagery and the horrific situations it depicts, approaching the film as some kind of a forerunner to 21st Century "torture porn" horror movie rather than as the expressly political work it is, does no favors to Pasolini or to the audience watching it. The Pacific Film Archive is screening it on October 31, which seems more appropriate because it makes it the last film of the venue's roughly-chronological September-October retrospective, than because it makes for an ideal Halloween activity. The more other Pasolini films you can see before watching Salò, the better, in my book. In fact, I think it should be all-but required for a first-time Salò viewer to have seen at least one film of the director's "Trilogy of Life" (The Decameron, The Canterbury Tales and Arabian Nights) before viewing his last and bleakest film. If you're a Pasolini virgin planning to see Salò at the Roxie Sunday, please make an effort to watch one of his other films playing at the Castro or Roxie this weekend before you do, or you may get a very mistaken impression of the filmmaker and the meaning of his swan song. The PFA's Pasolini chronology is a highly-recommended one.

The only real horror title on the current PFA calendar is not playing at the theatre at all, but is an outdoor showing of Phillip Kaufman's Invasion of the Body Snatchers in downtown Berkeley. Other upcoming East Bay horror and horror-related screenings include the "Monster In Our Shorts" program at the Oakland Underground Film Festival, most of the digitally-projected classics announced to play the New Parkway in late September and October, and most of the 16mm programs screening at the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum on October, including the German expressionist Waxworks, and the early spook-house movie The Cat and The Canary. Even the 'Rex' the Wonder Horse film playing at Niles October 5th has a spooky title: The Devil Horse.

HOW: Scanners screens in 35mm tonight as part two of an SFMOMA-presented double bill with The Manchurian Candidate.

Showgirls (1995)

WHO: Elizabeth Berkeley stars in this.

WHAT: Showgirls was the first film rated NC-17 by the MPAA to receive a wide release in US theatres. It flopped, and signaled to major studios that they needed to make sure their mainstream theatrical releases went no higher than 'R' (though these days 'PG-13' is more customary), and ever since the NC-17 rating has been essentially relegated to films aimed solely at the art-house or home video markets. 

But in the meantime, Showgirls has become a cult phenomenon in those markets, screening to enthusiastic fans as a midnight offering in the former, and being frequently re-published in increasingly elaborate DVD packages for the latter. Not only has it found a growing fan club, it's also become re-evaluated by critics and academics and even highbrow filmmakers like Jacques Rivette. I hate to name any review as 'definitive' but I have to admit that I pretty much consider Eric Henderson's masterful 2004 write-up for Slant to be just that. Here's a sample:

Gleefully inspiring audiences everywhere to challenge conventional definitions of "good" and "bad" cinema, Showgirls is undoubtedly the think-piece object d'art of its time. It is Paul Verhoeven and Joe Eszterhas's audaciously experimental satire-but-not-satire, an epically mounted "white melodrama" (to borrow Tag Gallagher's description of Sirk's early, less mannered, and more overtly humanistic comedies of error) and also one of the most astringent, least compromised critiques of the Dream Factory ever unleashed on a frustrated, perpetually (and ideologically) pre-cum audience. Many things to many people, and absolutely nothing to a great deal more, Showgirls's proponents and detractors still square off, digging nine-foot trenches in the sand (some planting their heads therein instead of their feet) and lobbing accusations of elitism and anti-pleasure. It is perhaps one of the only films to bridge that critical gap between Film Quarterly (which hosted a beyond extensive critical roundtable on the film last year) and Joe Bob Briggs.

WHERE/WHEN: Tonight only at the Castro Theatre at 8:00.

WHY: I've already related on this blog my story of experiencing Showgirls for the first time. Since writing that piece, I attended two more screenings of the film hosted by Peaches Christ, the last two held at the Bridge Theatre before the annual summer party moved to the Castro Theatre in 2010, with an according ticket-price hike and shift from midnight to prime time. I have to admit that my Peaches Christ devotion dried up around the time of this venue move. I attended dozens of Midnight Mass presentations at the Bridge in part because they were fairly inexpensive and didn't conflict with other potential Saturday evening plans. The Castro shows were said to be better-choreographed and more spectacular (thus deserving of their extra cost) but I found it hard to get motivated to attend one. It may not have helped that the films selected to fill the Castro have to skew more toward mainstream mass-appeal- true oddities like William Castle's Strait-Jacket or Paul Bartel's Death Race 2000 have to be passed up in favor of more well-known films like Mommie Dearest and Purple Rain. (Although a 2013 development of including documentaries like Paris Is Burning and - up next October 12th - Grey Gardens in the program rotation is certainly welcome.)

But tonight's 16th presentation of Showgirls feels like the right time to rejoin the annual tradition. I finally attended my first Peaches Christ presentation at the Castro this summer, helped along by a return to a midnight time slot and lower ticket prices (courtesy Frameline). It didn't matter that the movie screened, A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy's Revenge, didn't become a new favorite, or that the on-stage interview with actor Mark Patton & cinematographer Jacques Haitkin was more awkward than Peaches' interviews I've seen conducted at the Bridge (including Mink Stole, Mary Woronov and Cassandra Peterson). The over-the-top, highly-polished, exquisitely costumed and cast stage show that opened the presentation was worth the ticket price alone. It may be hard to believe that  seeing a Freddie-faced and fedora'd drag queen in a form-fitting orange-and-grey-striped sweater wreak havoc with her claws while lip-synching to Metallica's "Enter Sandman" would be one of the most thrilling live performances I've seen in a long time, but it's the truth. And I'm realizing that, as elaborate and entertaining as the Bridge Theatre Showgirls stage shows got, they'll surely be handily topped by a company that can make full use of a stage built in 1922 for dancing usherettes (such as future Best Actress Academy Award-winner Janet Gaynor). It's got to be the closest thing to being in Vegas next to actually going there!

For those seeking more intellectual stimulation, tonight's screening can launch an in-cinema study of the history of "adults-only" rated movies over the next few months. A good deal of landmark X- and NC-17-rated movies are coming to local theatres in the near future. In just a few weeks, Salo and Arabian Nights screen as part of the Roxie's contribution to this Autumn's Pier Paolo Pasolini celebration; both films will be repeated in October as part of the Pacific Film Archive's full retrospective of the director's work. The PFA is also showing the recent NC-17 sensation Killer Joe in a William Friedkin series (he'll be in attendance at the September 21st screening). 

I've also been tipped off to the titles involved in an all-35mm series of non-pornographic X-rated films  expected to play Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in October through December: Midnight Cowboy (in case you missed it this past week at the Castro), Last Tango In Paris, Fritz the Cat, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls, Bad Timing, and Henry & June are all expected to screen as part of this series, and provide a pretty good cross-section of films that have become classics despite (or perhaps in some cases because of) an adults-only rating. Hopefully healthy audiences too young to have experienced these when they originally appeared in theatres will turn out to see them in a cinema setting. There's a few on the list I've never seen at all and will definitely be making a priority.

Finally, the Castro's Coming Soon page indicates a few titles that make interesting contrasts to the aforementioned MPAA-"scarlet lettered" titles. Whether re-cutting a movie in order to change an initial NC-17 rating to an R, as Paul Thomas Anderson did with Boogie Nights (screening September 28th), or simply declining to submit a film for a rating at all, as with Paul Schrader's The Canyons (screening with Abel Ferrara's Dangerous Game Sep. 11), there have always been options for filmmakers trying to release films containing adult themes, even if each of them involves its own set of drawbacks.

HOW: Showgirls screens in 35mm, with an extensive live stage show performed beforehand.

Tenebrae (1982)

WHO: Dario Argento directed this, and Goblin provided the musical soundtrack.

WHAT: I haven't seen this one before, so I'll leave the description to Argento biographer James Gracey:

Now recognised as a slyly reflexive and deconstructive commentary on not only Argento's own body of work but also the conventions of the Italian giallo, Tenebrae has experienced a critical reappraisal because of its underlying theme of the effects of violent entertainment on audiences. The twisted tale of an American mystery thriller novelist who becomes caught up in a slew of sadistic murders, seemingly inspired by his latest book, Tenebrae marked Argento's return to the giallo after a successful detour into the supernatural gothic horror of Suspiria (1977) and Inferno (1980).

WHERE/WHEN: Screens tonight only at the Roxie at 11:45 (or is it 11:59, as presenter Jesse Hawthorne Ficks indicates?).

WHY: If you've been making sure to attend all the Castro Theatre's theatrical screenings of Argento features over the past year, you've seen Phenonema, Deep Red and Suspiria. It's a far better 12-month stretch for seeing his horror movies in the company of other fans than this town has seen in a while. It's as if it's all to get San Francisco amped up to see Goblin perform on its first U.S. tour ever, on October 20th at the Warfield (previously the show was expected to be at the Regency Ballroom but the Market Street former movie palace is more spacious.) Certain other cities are getting a live cinema event in which the band plays in front of a screen showing one of these classic Argento movies. I'm not disappointed that here we'll be having separate experiences, spreading the Goblin joy out over a longer period of time.

Tonight's screening is the opening of a new chapter in the history of stalwart Frisco Bay screening series MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS, which has brought outre and underappreciated fare to San Francisco cinemas for over a decade now, starting out at the 4-Star (which opens Johnnie To's Drug War for a week today, by the way) and moving over to the Castro in 2005 and has been screening almost monthly there (and occasionally at the Roxie or other venues) ever since. The triple-bills thematically curated by Ficks have grown increasingly diffused over the years, as the difficulty of securing 35mm prints to show has grown ever-more staggering. But the loosening connectivity has also been a benefit to getting wider exposure to the lesser-known titles programmed; if a theatre full of Predator and The Thing fans can have their minds blown by My Life as a Dog or if Kickboxer can work as a chaser to Bring It On and Hairspray, it's MiDNiTES audiences who'll be able to experience it.

I call tonight's screening a new chapter because at last month's showing of Josie and the Pussycats, Velvet Goldmine and Wild in the Streets Ficks announced that the latter would be the final MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS midnight show at the Castro. No more than a couple hundred audience members had stuck around to see the last of these three films about rock-and-roll celebrity power, and keeping the 1400-seat theatre running and it's staff on the clock may not be worth it after the witching hour when there aren't more seats filled. Especially when there's an alternative! Tonight's MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS bill with be split between two venues; Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom and Evil Dead 2 will play back-to-back at the Castro Theatre at 7:00 and 9:30, and then Tenebrae will screen just a ten-to-fifteen-minute walk away at the Roxie just before midnight. You've heard of a "pub crawl"? This is a cinema crawl, and the presentation of a ticket stub from the Castro double-bill will get you into the Roxie for the Argento film for only an additional $5.

It will be interesting to see how many people take advantage of this dual-venue triple-bill, and how many stick to just one or the other. I for one feel like I've seen the Spielberg and Raimi films enough times for a while but am interested in finally checking out the Argento. Others may be more interested in the better-known films at the Castro than the relative obscurity at the Roxie. I wonder if Ficks is waiting to see how tonight's crawl works out before announcing the details of his next event, expected to happen on September 20 with unrevealed films and venues involved.

HOW: Tenebrae screens via a 35mm print. So does The Evil Dead 2, but Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is currently only available for digital screenings, and will show on DCP.

Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas (1998)

WHO: Terry Gilliam directed this.

WHAT: This psychedelic adaptation of Hunter S. Thompson's scalding portrait of American decline at the end of the 1960s is the last Terry Gilliam film that I really enjoyed, and it seems hard to believe it was released into multiplexes fifteen years ago. (I saw it at the Kabuki.) Gilliam's back-cover blurb for Bob McCabe's book Dark Knights and Holy Fools seems all the more poignant to a (former) fan in hindsight:

When Bob approached me about this book I was in the middle of making Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. As I continued with that movie, it started to become clear to me that it was a culmination of many things for me, maybe even a natural end to one stage of my work. So now seemed like a good time to look back at what we've been doing all these years.

WHERE/WHEN: Today only at the Castro Theatre at 4:35 and 9:35.

WHY: This is precisely the kind of film that made for a perfect revival at the Red Vic Movie House, which shut its doors and removed its 35mm projector a little under two years ago. So it seems a good time to mention that the Haight Street space is in the midst of preparing for it's second act, literally: it'll be turned into a performance space called Second Act that is expected to include screenings (on video, presumably) as part of its repertoire. Check its Facebook page for details and updates.

It also seems like a good time to mention a few screenings and series that may appeal to the, shall I say, "impaired" moviegoer. Former Market Street movie palace the Warfield is having a rare screening in the midst of its usual fare of live concerts and comedy performances. This Saturday it shows Jay And Silent Bob's Super Groovy Cartoon Movie, featuring characters created by Kevin Smith and Jason Mewes, who will be on hand (live in person, I think, though promotional materials don't 100% clear that it won't be a live-by-digital hookup situation) for a Q&A. I'm not a Kevin Smith, but I'm a little tempted to attend just so I can say I've seen a movie in the venue that played the likes of Gone With the Wind and Spellbound in the classic Hollywood era, more cultish hits like The Hobbit and Dawn of the Dead during the 1970s, and where I've seen concerts from musicians from Tears For Fears to George Clinton to Einstürzende Neubauten.

The Landmark Clay Theatre continues to run midnight movies all summer long (this weekend is Jaws) and while their recently-installed digital projection system has precluded the use of 35mm projectors or prints, several of the shows attempt to make up for that with live elements, including an appearance by author JT Leroy at a June 28 showing of Asia Argento's The Heart Is Deceitful Above All Things. Other bookings include the Frisco premiere of horror anthology V/H/S/2 and monthly showings of Tommy Wiseau's The Room. In case scotchka is your favorite method of impairment. The Camera 3 in San Jose has its own midnight/cult movie series, and is the last Frisco Bay venue that still regularly shows The Room and The Rocky Horror Picture Show in 35mm.

I definitely get a sense from the programming of this summer's sets of outdoor movie screenings (those in Marin and San Francisco are tracked at this website) that they've opted to pick movies less likely to bring audiences who like to flout open-container laws and send wafts of funny smoke into the atmosphere, than in some previous years. But these (all-digital) projections seem worth mentioning as well as the season gets underway.

But the Castro itself has more "cult movies" to show after tonight as well. Tomorrow it's Repo Man, on a 35mm double-bill with one of director Alex Cox's inspirations, Kiss Me Deadly. The 37th Frameline festival starts there the next day, and includes among its lineup the long-awaited return of Peaches Christ to midnight-movie hosting duties as she presents the (I've been told) surprisingly queer A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddie's Revenge starring "scream queen" Mark Patton. Of what we know of the Castro line-up after Frameline ends June 30th, the most relevant selections to this theme appear to be the horror movies screening in early July: Jaws on the 3rd of the month, and Suspiria and The Exorcist paired on the 12th.

HOW: On a 35mm double-bill with Oliver Stone's The Doors.

Cry-Baby (1990)

WHO: Johnny Depp in the title role.

WHAT: Cry-Baby was the first film directed by John Waters after the tragic death of his actor fetiche Divine in 1988. For the lead in his exaggerated 1950s musical (a "rockabilly opera", if you will) he cast a 26-year-old heartthrob who'd made little impact in his few feature films so far, and was itching to break out of his role on television's 21 Jump Street. Waters included him and another big screen newcomer Amy Locane in one of the most eclectic casts in an American film made in my lifetime: Polly Bergen, Susan Tyrell, Iggy Pop, Ricki Lake, Willem Dafoe and Traci Lords  make for quite a colorful assortment of characters. As Waters later said:

Traci played a sexpot--which is always the best way to rid yourself of an image, by playing it and making fun of it. That's what Johnny Depp did, too. He was on Jump Street, and he hated playing a teen idol, so I said, "Stick with us; we'll kill that." And we did -- in the right way, you know?

This weekend Depp turns 50, already outliving Divine by eight years. And while his role selections in the decades since Cry-Baby have, for the most part, kept a refreshing element of strangeness in Hollywood films of varying kinds and qualities, including everything from collaborations as his own actor fetiche for Tim Burton, to an experimental Western by Jim Jarmusch, to big franchise-y blockbusters, I've always wanted him to make another movie with Waters. It's been almost ten years since the latter directed a film, and I'm not sure if he's even planning or hoping to make another one, but if he did, how great would it be if he reunited with the most bankable of the many actors whose film careers he helped launch?

WHERE/WHEN: Tonight only at 11:59 PM at the Castro Theatre
 
WHY: Cry-Baby screens as part of a Depp-tributing triple-bill hosted by Jesse Hawthorne Ficks, who has been bringing cult classics and overlooked films to Frisco theatres for just about all of my cinephile life. I first saw him introduce films like Too Many Ways To Be #1 and Dead Or Alive at the 4-Star Theatre in 2001, back when that venue used to show unusual East Asian films far more frequently than it does today. I've followed Ficks's programming from the 4-Star to the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts and the Castro, where he programs just-about-monthly threefers with themes like Man-Children, Grunge Love, and Swords and Sorcery, under the brand name MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS.

One of my favorite discoveries though Ficks has been Peter Bogdanovich's At Long Last Love, one of the great and neglected musicals of the 1970s, which screened in 2007 and then again with Bogdanovich in person in 2008. I was disappointed to read Bogdanovich's recent article on that film, which erases the Castro screening which he attended (I saw him watching the film from the back row; perhaps he didn't stay for all of it and I didn't notice because I was too engrossed, however).

Unfortunately I haven't been able to attend Ficks's shows since last December, when he sandwiched the final Waters-Divine collaboration Hairspray between the Kirsten Dunst cheer squad movie Bring It On and Jean-Claude Van Damme in Kickboxer. Weird grouping? Yes. But thrilling to see in 35mm with adoring audiences just as confused as you are by the probably unprecedented juxtaposing of these three films, which somehow made sense by the end of the night. But then maybe that's because it was after 2:30 AM, as Ficks squeezed a showing of 35mm trailers for almost every single Van Damme film ever released to cinemas in between the second and third films of the night. I'm not normally much of a trailer fan, but seeing that was a highlight of my film-going year.

Tonight's theme is more obvious, and the film selections and the trailers presented should please fans of Depp and other 1980s-1990s heartthrobs like Leonardo Di Caprio, who co-stars in What's Eating Gilbert Grape (which goes on at 9:30) and Aidan Quinn, who plays one of the title characters in Benny and Joon (which I haven't seen; it plays at 7:30).

Upcoming MiDNiTES screenings include a July 5th Castro show called "MAKE MUSiC KOOL THiNGS": Josie and the Pussycats with Velvet Goldmine and Wild In The Streets (I've only seen the Todd Haynes film in the middle so I'm very tempted to go to this one), and the Frisco Bay premiere of a week-long Roxie booking of the new Paul Schrader movie The Canyons on August 9th.

HOW: All 35mm prints tonight, as per usual for MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS.

The Big Lebowski (1998)

WHO: Joel & Ethan Coen wrote, directed, co-produced and co-edited (under the pseudonym Roderick Jaynes) this picture.

WHAT: I first saw The Big Lebowski the way most people I know did: on home video. I remember renting the videocassette fifteen years ago and thinking, "hey that's better than most Coen Brothers movies" and then thinking little of it for quite some time. Until this weekend I had not seen it on the big screen.

But this film slowly and surely developed a following like few other films of its era. I'm pretty sure it's the only Coen Brothers film that has inspired its own religion (founded by an old acquaintance of mine, no less), and probably the one that has inspired more DVD editions (including one worked on by another friend) and more books than any other, as well.

Even Josh Levine, who published a book about the Coens in 2000 (when The Big Lebowski was their newest completed film), seems oblivious that it might be the one that would develop the most cultish fan attention, focusing his chapter on the film's preparation, and when talking about its reception limiting his observations to that of the critical consensus, and to the fact of its box-office disappointment in the wake of Fargo. But he does, in his final chapter, put his finger on why The Big Lebowski may be different from the other Coen works, calling it an exception to the rule that "every one of their films leaves the viewer feeling distinctly uneasy ... Even the comic Raising Arizona has a nightmarish quality, and the hero and heroine may have had their lives ruined by their own uncontrollable impulses."

WHERE/WHEN: Tonight only at the Clay Theatre at 11:55 PM.

WHY: The Clay is set to replace its 35mm projection equipment with DCP next Friday. They already have a lower-quality digital projector in place, which is being used to show this week's regular booking, the biopic Renoir, about the great French filmmaker's famous father. This means that tonight's midnight screening of The Big Lebowski will be the last time 35mm reels will be shown publicly at the venue.

The Clay is one of San Francisco's oldest movie houses, and has been projecting 35mm prints from all over the world for over a hundred years. In the 1930s, it showed a great many French imports; just just the widely-known ones by Renoir but still-relatively-obscure titles like Anatole Litvak's Mayerling, Sascha Guitry's Pearls of the Crown and Robert Siodmak's Personal Column. It also showed films from countries such as (for example) Russia, Sweden, Austria, China, and the U.K.

Though keeping its reputation for foreign film exhibition through the following decades, in the 1970s the Clay became a stop on the burgeoning midnight-movie circuit, screening fare like John Waters's Pink Flamingos to a late-movie-hungry crowd in an age before home video and widespread cable television. The Rocky Horror Picture did not make its original local debut at the Clay but, according to Gary Meyer, the Metro II, before moving to the Powell as a midnight movie. Now it screens monthly at the Clay, along with other periodic midnight screenings such as The Room, The Big Lebowski, etc. I've seen 35mm midnight shows of films from The Shining to Johnnie To's The Mission to Donnie Darko over the past ten years or so. 

But now it's time for the Clay to go "on hundred per cent electronic" as Jackie Treehorn might say. It's unfortunate that  the DCP industry has figured out a way to strong-arm most theatres to adopt a "no turning back" policy, removing 35mm projection equipment even from booths with the room to accommodate both. For a theatre like the Clay, the philosophy seems to be "adapt or die". For a 103-year-old movie house which has survived plenty of closure scares over the years, maybe it's good news as it seems to reflect confidence in future survival of the venue to invest in new technology for it. Hopefully it will mean the Clay can continue to show an increasingly diverse selection of midnight movies and foreign films to appreciative crowds for some time to come.

It seems a good time to mention the final three 35mm screenings happening at SFMoMA before their closure in just over a month, since they all seem to connect to The Big Lebowski in some (perhaps oblique) way. The museum's final 35mm showing will be May 23's The Long Goodbye, Robert Altman's Raymond Chandler adaptation that seems to have held more influence on the Coens' approach to reinterpreting that author than other films by Howard Hawks, etc. May 16 they screen Peter Bogdanovich's The Last Picture Show, the film that essentially launched Lebowski lead Jeff Bridges's stardom. And on May 9th SFMoMA screens The Last Waltz, Martin Scorsese's documentary record of The Band's farewell concert, an event that Jeff "The Dude" Lebowski might well have attended a good decade or so before his days as a roadie for Metallica. No, no members of The Eagles are invited.

HOW: The Big Lebowski will screen from an excellent if not pristine 35mm print, accompanied by an assortment of rare, vintage trailers and other odds and ends prepared by the Clay projectionist to run through the gate one last time.

Deep Red (1975)

WHO: Dario Argento directed this.

WHAT: If Suspiria is his best-known film, Deep Red must be the true fan favorite among his films. I say "must be" in part because I haven't seen it; I'm only sussing this out from how often (and how reverentially) it gets mentioned by hardcore giallo hounds I come into contact with. As Slant Magazine founder Ed Gonzalez wrote in the early days of that website: 

Deep Red was Dario Argento's first full-fledged masterpiece, a riveting thriller whose secrets carefully unravel via a series of carefully calibrated compositions that become not unlike virtual gateways into Freudian pasts. Like Argento's ever-flowing camera, Deep Red's killer is everywhere—the protagonist's claustrophobia becomes a physical response both to the film's oppressive mise-en-scène and Argento's formal framing.

WHERE/WHEN: Tonight only at 9:10 PM at the Castro Theatre.

WHY: Why haven't I seen this before? I've been awaiting just such an opportunity as tonight's: a screening in a grand cinema like the Castro, sure to be surrounded by aficionados as excited to see the film for the umpteenth time as I am for the first. To make this an even more appealing outing, Deep Red is paired with another film by an Italian director and starring David Hemmings: Michaeleangelo Antonioni's Blow Up, which has frequently been linked to Deep Red for less superficial reasons (a fact I first became aware of here.)

Deep Red is not the only 1970s horror movie on the current Castro calendar. This Friday Jesse Hawthorne Ficks hosts a "MiDNiTE" screening of my long-standing favorite film of that genre/era: Carrie. I hope it portends more Brian De Palma films at the venue soon.  And next weekend a few films that may not be considered out-and-out horror films to purists, but seem pretty related to me, screen: John Boorman's Deliverance plays on an April 26 double bill with a 35mm print of the theatrical cut of Steven Spielberg's made-for-television truck=monster movie Duel. And April 27 brings Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange. I haven't seen Nicolas Roeg's & Donald Cammell's Performance before so I don't know if that should be grouped here or not. (It screens May 2nd.) But certainly Phillip Kaufman's 1978 version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers should, even if it's not on the current Castro calendar but will be on the next one, as it's being brought there May 5th by the San Francisco International Film Festival as part of an in-person tribute to Kaufman on the occasion of his receipt of the SFIFF's annual directing award.

HOW: Many of the aforementioned screenings will utilize DCP, but Blowup and Deep Red will both be shown from 35mm prints. 

Strange Days (1995)

WHO: Kathryn Bigelow directed this after Near Dark, Blue Steel, and Point Break, and before The Weight of Water, K-19: the Widowmaker, The Hurt Locker and the controversial Zero Dark Thirty (which is still showing in a few local theatres).

WHAT: I've never seen Strange Days but I remember when it came out well; I was a college radio DJ at the time and gave at least a spin or two to the title track to the soundtrack, a cover of the Doors classic performed by New York City "industrial" metal band Prong, with Doors keyboardist Ray Manzarek playing along. In fact another band's version of the Doors song was originally supposed to be used in the film and appear on the CD. But in the cutthroat world of placing songs on mid-nineties soundtracks to would-be blockbuster films, it was decided that a Sony-signed artist should be given the pride of place on the Sony-released soundtrack, so the Wax Trax-affiliated Sister Machine Gun's version was nixed in favor of Prong. (Their version can be heard on the CD Burn -- if you have a CD player that can rewind from the beginning of track 1, that is). Of course, the movie flopped financially, doing little to help Sony, Prong, or Manzarek. It's only been in recent years that I've begun to hear cinephiles recommend it as a neglected example of pre-millennial science fiction that prefigures The Matrix and other cyberpunk-inflected films.

WHERE/WHEN: Screens tonight only at the Castro Theatre as an almost-midnight movie. Listed star time: 11:30 PM

WHY: We've lived through the Y2K switchover, we've lived through the year 2012, and we've even lived through The Matrix Reloaded (not necessarily in that order). So perhaps it's just the right time to revisit this on a big screen with a charged-up audience. Seeing a movie at the witching hour at the Castro Theatre is always a treat, and certainly not an everyday occurrence. The next movie to play this late time slot at the venue will be on April 19th when Brian De Palma's Carrie makes an appearance, in plenty of time for the Senior Prom. Much of the Castro's April calendar has in fact been revealed on the theatre website, or (in the case of April 25th and a couple of May dates) on the San Francisco Film Society's. Take a look and see what strikes your fancy.

HOW: Strange Days is the culmination of a MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS triple-bill entitled "Mentors Matter"; the other two films in the trio include Rocky III and Léon: The Professional, neither one of them a film I have particularly fond memories of, but perhaps that's all the more reason to re-evaluate them now. All three screen in 35mm prints.

The Two Eyes Of Jesse Hawthorne Ficks

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 Jesse Hawthorne Ficks, an educator, SF Bay Guardian contributer, and MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS programmer

Ficks' Rep Picks

1. 3rd i Film Festival presents
"The Eternal Poet: Raj Kapoor & the Golden Age of Indian Cinema"
@ The Pacific Film Archive
Aag (1948) - 35mm
Barsaat (1949) - 35mm
Awaara (1951) - 35mm
Boot Polish (1954) - 35mm
Shree 420 (1955) - 35mm
Jaagte Raho (1956) - Digital
Bobby (1973) - 35mm

2. The San Francisco Silent Film Festival presents
Abel Gance's Napoleon (1927) - Poly Vision 35mm (3 Screens)
@ Oakland's Paramount Theatre

3. MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS presents
Peter Bogdanovich's Texasville: Director's Cut (1990) - Laserdisc
@ Lost Weekend's Cinecave Underground Theatre

4. "From a Whisper to a Scream: Discovering Andrzej Zulawski"
@ The Yerba Buena Center for the Arts
On the Silver Globe (1976/1988) - 35mm
Third Part of the Night (1971) - 35mm
The Devil (1972) - 35mm
Possession (1981) - 35mm
Szamanka (The Shaman, 1996) - 35mm

5. Dennis James playing the organ
@ The Stanford Theatre
Victor Sjöström's The Wind (1928)
Allan Dwan's Robin Hood (1922)
Erich Von Stroheim's Foolish Wives (1922)

6. "Bullets and Bikinis: The Films of Andy Sidaris"
@ The Yerba Buena Center for the Arts
Hard Ticket to Hawaii (1987) - 35mm

7. Tribute to Howard Hawks hosted by David Thomson
@ The Stanford Theatre
The Criminal Code (1931) - 35mm
Sergeant York (1941) - 35mm
To Have and Have Not (1944) - 35mm
The Big Sleep (1946) - 35mm
I Was a Male War Bride (1949) - 35mm
The Big Sky (1952) - 35mm
Rio Bravo (1959) - 35mm
Man's Favorite Sport? (1964) - 35mm
El Dorado (1966) - 35mm
Rio Lobo (1970) - 35mm

8. MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS presents "No Pain No Gain" Triple Bill
@ The Castro Theatre
Bring it On (2000) - 35mm
Hairspray (1988) - 35mm
Kickboxer (1989) - Preceded by 18 Jean-Claude Van Damme trailers all on 35mm

9. The San Francisco Silent Film Festival presents
William Wellman's Wings (1927) w/ Mont Alto Motion Picture Orchestra, and Foley sound effects by Ben Burtt and Rodney Sauer - DCP
@ The Castro Theatre

The Two Eyes Of David Robson

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 David Robson, proprietor of the House Of Sparrows blog:

In order seen:

- Perturbed though I was that all of the offerings I caught at the Vogue Theatre's Mostly British Film Festival were offered on video, the chance to catch up, in a single month, with Michael Apted's entire 7 UP series was just one gift the series offered. But THE GREAT WHITE SILENCE was the most compelling thing I saw there, its imagery of Antarctica (the first film ever shot there) offered new vitality by a smart and emotive score by Simon Fisher Turner. Scott and four of his companions never returned; in some kind of solidarity, I walked home from the Vogue.

- I'm pretty sure that all of the TWO EYES participants who saw the epic restoration of NAPOLEON at Oakland's Paramount Theatre will include it in their lists. The restoration of Abel Gance's epic (itself only a sixth of the total story he wanted to tell) was certainly one of the major film events of the year, well-served by its orchestral accompaniment in that lovely theatre. A bonus came from seeing it with my girlfriend, who had no idea the three-screen finale was coming and gushed excitedly upon its arrival.

- When I made a vow to never watch the Oscars again if they omitted Raul Ruiz from its In Memorian montage, Mr. Darr gently, firmly (and, of course, correctly) told me that I could be sure it wouldn't happen. And sure enough, the passing of Ruiz, despite his voluminous body of work, to say nothing of the sometimes incredible shit executed within that corpus, warranted nary a blip on Oscar's radar. Pacific Film Archive were more generous, and offered us a series of films unified by their literary origins. And though the series was far from complete, as some observed (though I remain weirdly optimistic that a Ruiz series can never be complete, as I'm positive he created much more work than logged by even his substantial IMDB filmography), it offered this filmgoer a first look at a decent cross-section of his oeuvre. I didn't like everything I saw; THE HYPOTHESIS OF THE STOLEN PAINTING bewitched me with its shadowy labyrinth and quietly witty imagery. And even if Ruiz has finished expanding his work, the end of it is nowhere in sight. It lives.

- A screening of a loose trilogy by Wong Kar-Wai at the Castro gave me a welcome second look at these interconnected romances. Though I remain somewhat distant from DAYS OF BEING WILD and found myself liking 2046 a bit less on seeing it again, I finally, belatedly connected with IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE. It's my new favorite of his films, perhaps, its slo-mo fancies, Maggie Cheung's dresses, intimate rooms, and Umebayashi score resonating in my mind even as I sit here recalling it.

- A number of people (maybe a majority) on their list of all-time favorite movies include films they've seen hundreds of times, and would enjoy again. It's not a bad criterion, but there are a couple of films on my list that I've only ever seen once, and fear I may never see again. My experiences with these films are quite special, a one-time-only glimpse of an incredible, intimate but far-away world. Such was my time viewing Zulawski's ON THE SILVER GLOBE (part of a touring retrospective hosted by Joel Shepard at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts). Some movies function like drugs, and you feel your mind expanding, your brain building upon itself to take in, navigate, and fully process the movie unfolding before your eyes. ON THE SILVER GLOBE remains one of the most powerful trips I've ever had, with cinema my sole intoxicant. It's all you need, really.

- I mean god dammit, if all DCP restorations of older films were undertaken with the care, diligence, and fanpassion as the digital PHANTOM OF THE PARADISE that the Castro screened in September, it'd make digital cinema a hell of a lot easier to bear. It looked lovely. And the movie's terrific, of course.

- I woke up late one August Saturday and my mind went to film. I had a particular craving for old school, 35mm thrills that only an aging print of a possibly schlocky movie could provide. What's at the Castro today? EARTHQUAKE. This can't possibly have been a deliberate piece of highly focused (and extremely well-anticipated) film programming, but Mark Robson (no relation)'s ensemble disaster drama was just what the DR ordered. Fantastic.

- Jesse Hawthorne Ficks' Midnites for Maniacs series, though it continues to struggle with the nonavailability of film prints, continued to offer an always intriguing selection of overlooked, semi-underground films for the Castro's audience. And even though it wound up screening (rather beautifully, as it turns out) on Blu-Ray, PHENOMENON became my favorite Dario Argento film at its M4M showing. A rare (unique?) coming-of-age film from its director, PHENOMENON found a lovely setting for its horrors in a weird area outside Zurich, pitched between Argento's supernatural and giallo modes.

- The Not Necessarily Noir 3 series at the Roxie was one of those events that brings out every cinephile in the Bay Area. There really was something for everyone in that sprawling series, with a robust enough selection spanning from well-known gems in the neo-noir canon to rare films seen for the first time by many in the audience. And yet my most treasured film in the series was TO LIVE AND DIE IN L.A. - though it's a film I know well, the screening here cemented it as an all-time favorite. It's probably William Friedkin's greatest labyrinth: though it yields a number of well-executed crime movie thrills, its more abstract details (from its tricky homoeroticism to its layers of artifice that suggest a film directed by its villain, counterfeiter Rick masters [Willem DaFoe]) continue to resonate and shift decades after its making. It certainly occasioned the most layered and intense post-screening discussion I had after a movie this year. I'm convinced that Roxie programmer Elliot Lavine had some kind of intimate congress with the print he screened, but I'm too polite and unimaginative to speculate here on the details. In any event, Lavine cannily paired the film with Woo's HARD BOILED, a film with as much to say about 1990s Hong Kong as TL&DILA has about 1980s America.

- I can't believe it took me this long to get down to the Stanford Theatre in Palo Alto, but after my first trip there in October I went a couple of more times before year's end. Most fun was blowing off work early, grabbing Caltrain down, and settling in for the MUMMY'S HAND/WOLF MAN two-fer. I was giddily excited for weeks before the program, and everything from the murky weather to the tastes of buttered popcorn and chocolate mixing in my mouth the the gonzoid fucking energy of THE MUMMY'S HAND made for a memorable night at the movies, and the perfect capper to the Halloween horror season. Exquisite.

Wayne's World (1992)

WHO: Penelope Spheeris directed this.

WHAT: Remember when you liked Mike Myers? Remember when you remembered Dana Carvey? Maybe this is a stretch. I'm not going to argue for Wayne's World as some kind of cinematic masterpiece, but it certainly is a significant piece of the U.S. cultural landscape over the past 20+ years, and deserves to be seen on a big screen with a bunch of Wayne & Garth fans dressed in Aurora, Illinois fashions, enjoying every camera aside, ironic product placement, guitar solo, and false ending.

WHERE/WHEN: At the Castro Theatre at 7:30 PM

WHY: Not?

HOW: Part of a MiDNiTES FOR MANiACS all-35mm triple-bill including Step Brothers and Freddie Got Fingered.

Lazy Sundays: The Sessions

Cheryl Eddy's contribution to the Bay Guardian's Year In Film issue published yesterday makes it sound like it's already happened, but the 73-year-old Bridge Theatre hasn't closed yet. It closes tonight, with a film I didn't have much initial interest in seeing but felt compelled to take a look at after learning it would likely be the last hurrah for one of Frisco Bay's few remaining single-screen cinemas. (That's assuming no other operator might want to take the Bridge over after Landmark departs tonight; an assumption questioned in this sfgate article). I liked it so much I plan to go back for the final show tonight; it's not a perfect film (it doesn't make my own just-published list of 2012's best commercial releases, but it would be a close runner-up. And I can't think of a better current film to close the curtain on the Bridge, which I attended dozens of times, at first to see modern "tradition-of-quality" films like the German sub movie Das Boot (my 1st Bridge excursion), but made my most enduring memories loyally attending Peaches Christ's midnight screenings of cult films like Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, Carrie, and Showgirls. The film playing tonight includes a wonderful sequence tributing the midnight movie- specifically the Rocky Horror Picture Show and its live-casts that still carry the midnight tradition today, even if Peaches no longer stays up that late. 

I'm being coy about the title of the film (pictured above) because all this is an extended introduction to a piece by my friend (and new twitter followee) Adam Hartzell, the #1 Bridge Theatre fan I know, who rather than getting all melancholy about his favorite theatre closing, has decided to move forward and redouble his commitment to other Richmond District/Laurel Heights area theatres. And to mention the name of the film playing tonight would spoil a bit of the poetry of his opening paragraph. Here's Adam:

The sign was on the marquee, bellowing the supposed perks of the wallflower weeks well after the film's initial release. Something foreboding was afoot. Then we saw the same perks pitched week after week with no new release on the horizon.  We heard the rumors and this was a neon sign of the coming cine-pocalypse that The Bridge would soon close. And the time has come.

I am bummed.  I regularly attended screenings at The Bridge as part of a self-devised independent theatre adoption program.  I did my part.  But I am but one cinephile with only so much disposable income.  As a result, I will no longer be able to walk a few blocks to The Bridge.  Thankfully, this being San Francisco, I still have options.  I will now jump on the 38 if it's coming, or walk if it isn't, in order to head down to the 4 Star Theatre on Clement or travel further to the Balboa Theatre on its eponymous street.  Sometimes, I'll head in the opposite direction to catch something at The Vogue.  I have consistently patronized these theaters as well, but now I will attend even more screenings than I did before.  My adopted theatre has left me.  It's time to move on to others.

In fact, with my wife having to work Sundays at her new job, I've decided to make Sunday a fairly regular movie-going tradition.  This tradition will be a regular jumping off point for an occasional feature here at Hell on Frisco Bay - Lazy Sundays at the 4 Star or The Balboa or The Vogue.

And an inaugurating lazy Sunday it was.  The air was misty from the typical Richmond District kinda-rain streaking the streets, windows, and my glasses as I walked (the 38 wasn't coming) to the House of Bagels for a pumpernickel bagel with cream cheese and sat for a spell to nosh the bagel at Argonne Playground.  After I finished my bagel, I walked to the 4 Star as an escape from the wet weather.  I casually conversed with the ticket-taker as I purchased my small buttered popcorn and small ice-less root beer.  (Independent movie houses rely on a significant percentage of their income from concession sales so I always concede to purchase something along with the ticket.)  The inaugural edition of this tradition found me watching The Sessions (Ben Lewin, 2012) along with a fairly respectably-sized audience. 

The Sessions, as you likely already know due to the Oscar buzz around Helen Hunt's 49 year-old nudity, John Hawkes' Oscar-baiting embodiment of able-bodied disability, and William H. Macy's long-haired priestly-ness, is a film based on an article on sex and disability written by the late Berkeley poet and journalist Mark O'Brien.  This was a topic close to O'Brien's heart, and other body parts, since he himself was disabled by polio as a young boy and lived much of his years in an iron lung, an impediment to developing a considerable sex life.  O'Brien was able to use his mind to write poetry and act as a journalist.  He required the assistance of care-givers to propel him to visits to Catholic confession and secular reporting assignments.  One of those assignments was, as mentioned above, on sex and disability, a 'door-opening' that enabled O'Brien to confront his situation-imposed virginity and the emotions tied up with his sexual longings.

When I came out of the theatre, I was happy in spite of the gloomy weather.  The film was a joy to watch and it left me with hope for the world.  I highly recommend catching it.  But as the film rumbled around in my head, I began to find myself disappointed in the film.  So if you haven't seen The Sessions, stop reading here.  Go and experience the joy the film brings before I possibly ruin it for you.

First, something somewhat positive about The Sessions: it does more than the average dramatic film where one of the lead characters has a disability.  My remark about the Academy of Arts and Sciences privileging able-bodied folks further by rewarding their taking of disabled roles with Oscar nominations is a bit of snark, but that snark is fueled by the frustration that Hollywood rarely provides substantial roles to the Disabled.  As much as I wish they'd made an effort to enable a lead role for a disabled actor, I do appreciate that they seemed to be aware of this less than admirable track record and provided considerable screen time for at least one visibly disabled actress in the film, Jennifer Kumiyama.  The Sessions is an improvement on opportunities for disabled actresses.  In the same vein of more representative representation, Bay Area folk will be happy to see a film about our region that actually includes the casual everyday diversity that motivated many of us to come out here before everyone started claiming they were an entrepreneur. 

Now for the buzz kill.  As much as I enjoyed Helen Hunt's role, my cynicism can't help but wonder if her Oscar-worthy-ness has to do with her being an older women who is often naked in the film.  (Her character is a sex surrogate, so nakedness comes with the job.)  It's as if she's being rewarded for disrobing so late in life.  She's gorgeous and it's nice that Hollywood is slowly starting to realize that older women are beautiful too.  Yet as much as this celebration of almost-50 nakedness, The Sessions contradicts this tale of unshackled bodies by its refusal to challenge another aspect of American puritanism. One would expect a movie like this to be willing to show a little penis if it's so sexually liberated, but even The Sessions makes cuts in order to prevent a little pecker from poking its way through the diegetic frame.  Such censorious constraints limit the impact of what might have been a much more powerful reflection of our bodies, ourselves.

And the films penis-less-ness is what makes an otherwise decent film a disappointment as it sticks in my mind days after watching it.  But that is part of my movie-going experience and that wider experience did not disappoint.  Being in the 4 Star's main theatre with other patrons laughing, smiling, and tearing up is part of the pleasure in the collective experience that is cinema-going.  I don't get that on my computer screen.  But my computer screen can let me know how to get there, to a theatre near me.