Ménilmontant (1926)

WHO: This was written and directed by Dimitri Kirsanoff, and starred his wife Nadia Sibirskaïa who, according to Monica Nolan's just-published SF Silent Film Festival essay, may lay some claim to being a co-director on at least some of their collaborations.

WHAT: Though I just saw this a couple weeks ago, I'm in a rush, so let me quote my friend Jeremy Matthews, who just ranked this film #14 on a list of the 100 Best Silent Films which made me realize just how similar our tastes are (although he loves Buster Keaton far more than I even do):

Watching Ménilmontant is a deeply felt experience. Impressionist filmmaker Dimitri Kirsanoff takes the dreamlike qualities of silent cinema to their natural conclusion, letting the story float by alongside haunting imagery without any intertitles directing hot to interpret the story. Kirsanoff made only one other film before this bold work, which starts abruptly and brutally with a man murdering a couple, then follows a love triangle involving the dead parents’ two daughters once they’ve grown. For all his cinematic innovations, Kirsanoff is not too hoity-toity to to tug the heartstrings, and a scene with a kind old man on a park bench is one of the most touching you’ll ever see.

WHERE/WHEN: 7PM tonight only at the Pacific Film Archive.

WHY: The beginning of the month saw the tail end of the 20th annual San Francisco Silent Film Festival, which I'm still in the midst of writing my final wrap-up report on. In the meantime, you can check out the preview pieces linked at Keyframe Daily and wrap-ups by Donna Hill, Meredith Brody, Mary Mallory, David Mermelstein, and, if you have the inclination toward the spoken rather than written word, the Cinephiliacs podcast, in which attendees Peter Labuza and Victor Morton discuss several of the screened films. Peter kindly name-checks me in this episode, even though I've been so lax in keeping this blog up-to-date that I haven't even mentioned yet the fact that I was honored to be a guest on a prior episode of his podcast in which we talked about my path into cinephilia, the San Francisco screening scene, and other topics but especially Christopher Maclaine's 1953 masterpiece The End.

I'd wanted to write a post of footnotes about the many points I in retrospect wish I could've expanded upon during our fast-paced discussion, but I have a feeling that's not going to happen which is just as well as I'm very happy with the way the piece came out thanks to Peter's editing, and humbled to be added to his illustrious guest list. I will say one thing about the podcast: that I hope no listener has the impression that I've programmed more than one film for YBCA, that being The Company during last summer's Invasion of the Cinemaniacs series, as Joel Shepherd is handily taking care of that himself (this month's New Filipino Cinema and the upcoming David Cronenberg series prove he knows exactly what he's doing). I've programmed only a little more than that for the San Francisco Public Library, but tomorrow afternoon's free 16mm "ATA @ SFPL" showcase at the Noe Valley Public Library is one I and my co-programmers are particularly proud of.

Steering back to Ménilmontant: it a highlight of the San Francisco Silent Film Festival for many people, but I'm glad it's showing again tonight as the second program in the PFA's final 2015 calendar. Final because the PFA will soon be moving its screening space from the "temporary" location it's inhabited at the corner of Bowditch and Bancroft for more the fifteen years. It's final day in the purple-chaired classroom-style room is August 2nd, and the institution is expected to reopen in 2016 at a location on the West side of the UC Berkeley campus, closer to BART and Shattuck Avenue. Glad because it will be great to see it paired with another Kirsanoff/ collaboration Autumn Mists, put into greater context as part of an incredible centennial tribute to La Cinémathèque Française's legendary founder Henri Langlois that also includes rarely-shown films by Ernst Lubitsch, Jean Grémillon, Abel Gance, Jean Renoir, Erich von Stroheim and many more, and woven into the fabric of eight weeks of PFA programming that shows its commitment to both expanding the canon and offering chances to reaffirm it in the best possible projection setting as well as ever. This weekend's launching series include tributes to comics W.C. Fields and Laurel and Hardy and a forgotten silent serial, and later on the venue will host a night of Indian video art and 35mm-heavy Andrei Tarkovsky, John Stahl and Victor Erice retrospectives, the latter paired with a hefty selection of his own favorites drawn from cinema history.

I'm also glad because...

HOW: When Ménilmontant screened at the Castro nearly two weeks ago it showed digitally with a score by the ever-reliable Stephen Horne. This presentation was strong enough to fool at least one filmmaker in the house into thinking it was 35mm, but tonight's screening is a chance to see the real thing: the Cinémathèque Française is supplying a print, which will be able to screen at 18 frames per second rather than the digital standard (unless you're a hobbit) of 24 fps. The musical accompaniment will be by another of my very favorite pianists, Judith Rosenberg, bucking the tradition of silent-era films shown in silence that Langlois is famous for. This is a tradition that barely exists in the Bay Area cinemas, and as a silent-film-music appreciator (and occasional practicioner) it's not one I'm particularly eager to see get a foothold. But I am curious why, if the PFA is not planning to employ Rosenberg to play music for Queen Kelly on July 24th anyway, they don't give us a little sample of this Cinémathèque Française sonic tradition, just to hear what it's like for once.

I Am Divine (2013)

WHO: Harris Glenn Milsted a.k.a. Divine, who died twenty-five years ago, is the subject of this documentary.

WHAT: I haven't yet made it to a screening of this documentary but I recommend this Projection Booth podcast interview with its director Jeffrey Schwarz (who has made documentaries on fascinating cinema figures such as Curtis Harrington, Vito Russo and others) and with frequent Divine co-star Mink Stole.

WHERE/WHEN: Tonight at 7:00 and 9:00 at the Castro Theatre and daily a the Roxie December 27th, 2013 through January 2nd, 2014.

WHY: With so many Frisco Bay connections (including an on-camera interview with Joshua Grannell, the alter ego of Peaches Christ) I Am Divine promises to be a perennial for local film fans to see and revisit. But this week is a particularly special time to see it, because it will prepare you for this Saturday, December 14th's now-rare 35mm showing of the film that made Divine a star: Pink Flamingos at the Yerba Buena Center For the Arts.

HOW: Digitally-produced documentary screens digitally, preceded at the Castro by a 35mm short film called O Sandra, which I've been unable to glean any other information about.

Jolly Holidays

As 2008 winds down, a number of the local screening venues on Frisco Bay are entering a quiet period. But there are still a number of unique film screenings over the holiday season. Bring your visitors and show them that Frisco's got a filmgoing scene unlike most anywhere else in the country. If they insist on It's a Wonderful Life, it's playing tonight in two South Bay venues: the Stanford and the California. But there's a lot more going on if you dig a bit deeper...

Gus Van Sant's biographical narrative Milk is no longer at the Castro Theatre, which is sure to disappoint a lot of people who didn't get around to seeing it on the most poignant screen in the nation on which to view it. It's still playing at other theatres around the city of course, but it's also worth noting that the terrific documentary on Frisco's first openly-gay supervisor the Times of Harvey Milk is showing at the Little Roxie for the foreseeable future. As for the Castro, it's Sing-a-Long (emphasis on Long) Sound of Music from December 26-30 (by the way, more Julie Andrews song-and-dance in the form of Mary Poppins is at the Paramount in Oakland this Friday and at San Jose's California on Saturday and Sunday), then Singin' in the Rain, a Henry Mancini collection, and a chance to see all four Humphrey Bogart/Lauren Bacall collaborations January 10-11. Be sure to think of Bogie on his 109th birthday tomorrow- more of his films appear at Noir City 7 later in January.

SFMoMA is continuing their Saturday afternoon screening series: this Saturday continues their Las Vegas film & video series mentioned here before. Caveh Zadehi's I Don't Hate Las Vegas Anymore plays at 1PM on the 27th, followed by a set of short works by Scott Stark, Catherine Borg and others. Then on January 3rd, early shorts by Chantal Akerman and her feature Je, tu, il, elle launch a two-month focus on the director -- who, I'm embarrassed to admit, I have never seen a single film by -- culminating in two screenings of her most widely heralded film Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai de Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles on February 26 and 28.

The 4-Star Theatre has booked Johnnie To's Sparrow for a week starting Christmas Day- it just placed at #8 on indiewire's critics poll of undistributed films, so take advantage of this extended run while (and where) you can.

The Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum in Fremont is showing John Ford's Three Bad Men at 7:30 PM on Saturday December 27th. I have not yet seen this film, apparently a favorite of Akira Kurosawa's, but it was remade by Ford in 1948 as Three Godfathers and (loosely) by Japanese animator Satoshi Kon in 2003 as Tokyo Godfathers. Both remakes are Christmas-themed, and I understand the 1926 version showing in Niles is as well, in case that's a draw. [Oops! I had this film confused with an earlier Ford silent Marked Men. 3 Bad Men is not directly connected to 3 Godfathers. It's a splendid entertainment and full of Ford touches though. -Brian, 12-28-2008] It plays with short films the Great Train Robbery and Hal Roach's Shoot Straight. Sunday afternoon December 28th will follow Roach into the talkie era with Laurel & Hardy in Babes in Toyland along with a couple shorts.

Two more silent screenings are Grace Cathedral's New Year's presentations of the original Universal Pictures gothic horror clasic the Hunchback of Notre Dame with organ accompaniment by Dorothy Papadakos echoing through the cathedral's huge chamber. It's being billed more as a concert than a film screening, in fact, which seems appropriate. Considering that the film is not known to exist in 35mm prints, I'm sure that the image will be sourced from a DVD, as it was last year when Grace brought Papadakos to play for another Lon Chaney picture the Phantom of the Opera. For a more authentic 1920s-style pairing of silent film print to organ accompaniment, Frisco Bay enthusiasts will have to wait until February 14th, when the Silent Film Festival brings F.W. Murnau's masterpiece Sunrise and Paul Leni's "old dark house" film the Cat and the Canary to the Castro Theatre with the incomparable Dennis James behind the Wurlitzer, as well as two piano-accompanied comedies Our Hospitality and a Kiss From Mary Pickford, each preluded by an Alice Guy Blache short. More on that festival in a later post.

More goodies to expect in 2009: the Berlin and Beyond festival of German-language films, amply previewed by Michael Hawley at his new must-feed blog film-415. I'm, as might be predicted, most jazzed up by the revival selections in the festival. Wim Wenders perhaps-greatest film Kings of the Road plays as part of a tribute to the "German New Wave" pioneer; on January 20th he will be on hand to answer questions following a screening of his newest film Palermo Shooting, which I must admit I found too faux-mystical for my liking. But I feel Kings of the Road is a masterpiece, even if one I've still only seen on a crappy PAL transfer videotape. A chance to see it on the giant Castro screen January 18th is extremely tantalizing. Another exciting archival screening is the film that gave Marlene Dietrich her start and director Josef Von Sternberg his place in all film history books, the Blue Angel. As Lincoln Specter notes, the 1930 film will ironically be screened at Berlin and Beyond in its rarely-projected English-language version, while the more familiar German-language version plays as part of a nearly-comprehensive Sternberg retrospective at the Pacific Film Archive February 1st. I'm so excited by this retro that I must admit I'm unable to concentrate much on the other fine offerings on the next PFA calendar. But there's a lot of choice programming happening there in the second half of January and February, that's for sure. More on that later, too.

Finally, on the subject of my favorite East Bay destination, the PFA is usually thought of as a venue for public screenings, but last week I took advantage of the PFA Library's small screening facility. All it takes is a small fee and a legitimate research purpose, and it's possible to view certain 16mm prints and videos from the archive's collection, as long as one arranges it with the helpful staff with plenty of lead time. A week ago I watched a set of canonized American avant-garde films (by Anger, Brakhage, Baillie, Benning/Gordon, and Conner) with fellow filmblogger Ryland Walker Knight, and we discussed the experience shortly after. You can listen to a podcast recording of our conversation here. It was something of a send-off for Ryland as he departs Frisco Bay for the East Coast. I'm glad we got to try it out before he left, and I hope people who listen can forgive my awkwardness with the microphone and my misstatements (listen for one in particular regarding Stan Brakhage's Anticipation of the Night. Clue: I did not remember it had been made before Window Water Baby Moving.)

Vinyl-ly Posting

As you've probably noticed, the complexities of life have necessitated my putting this blog on the back burner lately. I haven't been going out to as many films as I generally do, though I have dipped in to sample a few September screenings at the Pacific Film Archive (what I saw of the Milos Forman series was a treat) and the Castro (seeing Nick Ray's Party Girl there last week on a Cyd Charisse tribute night was tremendous.) But all of the local theatres have announced new fall programs, from the Stanford (bringing rare British films for the next month or so) to the Niles Essanay Silent Film Museum, to the Rafael (hosting the Mill Valley Film Festival, which will kick off an extended Ingmar Bergman series at that venue with a festival in-person tribute to Harriet Anderson and screening of Through a Glass Darkly October 10th- while here in Frisco the Red Vic has booked Monika November 9th and 10th).

Backed up with upcoming screenings worth mentioning for weeks, but struggling to find time to write, I was exceedingly thankful that Ryland Walker Knight invited me to join as a guest on the new podcast he's launched with his fellow East Bay cinephile Mark Haslam, entitled Vinyl is Podcast. On Saturday, after watching Burn After Reading at the California Theatre (which, incidentally, I enjoyed for the way it invites comparisons between the chameleons in Hollywood with those in Washington) we sat down to hash out some of our perceived highlights of the PFA, Castro and Mill Valley Film Festival calendars. Of course we didn't get to everything. I feel particularly remiss not having mentioned the PFA screening of Jerry Schatzburg's Puzzle of a Downfall Child presented by the Film on Film Foundation this Sunday evening after Abraham's Valley, the last (and perhaps most-anticipated, as its DVD transfer is legendarily unwatchable) film in the venue's Manoel de Oliveira centennial-year tribute. Made in 1970, starring Faye Dunaway, directed by the maker of Panic in Needle Park and never released on any home video format, it seems like a must-watch to me. We also didn't get to goings-on at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, Artists' Television Access (which has another enticing kino21 screening tomorrow), or the mouth-watering French Cinema Now series being put on at the Clay by the San Francisco Film Society (and handily previewed by Michael Hawley). Not to mention the other copious film festivals accumulating over the next few months and listed in the upper right column of this page.

But we did get to talk about a lot, and it was fun to do. Hopefully it will be fun for Hell on Frisco Bay readers to listen to as well. Check it out.