1. "Grindhouse Gang": Scott Foundas presides over a roundtable discussion with Quentin Tarantino, Robert Rodriguez, Richard Rush, Bob Clark, Brian Trenchard-Smith, Allan Arkush, George Armitage, and Lewis Teague.
["As we convened over dinner on the night following Grindhouse’s first press screening, the admiration flowed freely between the masters and their disciples, while the conversation (particularly when Tarantino himself held forth — which was often — with his exhaustive inventory of B-movie arcana) encompassed such obscure objects of cinephilic desire as the forgotten low-budget master William Witney, the Filipino action director Cirio H. Santiago and the sexploitation actress Candice Rialson. Above all, the discussion offered a reminder that, for the filmmmakers present, no matter where their careers have taken them, their hearts will always belong to the grindhouse. What follows are highlights culled from that evening, with the caveat that, per Tarantino’s own sage advice, I have elected to keep some of the magicians’ secrets just so."]
2. "Did you just hit a boat?!": House contributor Ryland Walker Knight flips for Grindhouse (Tarantino's segment anyway).
["It’s a shame Quentin Tarantino is so tight with Robert Rodriguez. Grindhouse, their new joint opus of nonsense, doesn’t have to be coherent by design but it’s so backloaded by Tarantino’s brilliant Death Proof that one wishes one could just skip over Rodriguez’s inane Planet Terror to get to the good stuff right away. Much how Kill Bill was mostly spoiled by its marketing split (it deserves to be three hours, unlike this mess), Death Proof is tainted by an apparent geek-out greed fest. As we’ve been given it, as the backend segment of Grindhouse’s carnival of idiocy, Death Proof’s glee almost erases Planet Terror’s numbing parade of bad choices; had it stood alone, Death Proof would be one of the best American movies of the year."]
3. "The Sopranos: Love Hurts": Chris Wisniewski weighs in on last night's Sopranos premiere.
["There’s just no escaping the past, it seems; these characters are doomed to remember and relive past mistakes, indiscretions, and half-baked schemes. And while we could speculate what this means for the eight remaining episodes, it’s enough for now to take it as an apt enough distillation of “Soprano Home Movies,” an episode that, to a surprising degree, privileged family melodrama above mob drama."]
4. "‘B.C.’ cartoonist Johnny Hart dies at storyboard": From MSNBC.
["Cartoonist Johnny Hart, whose award-winning “B.C.” comic strip appeared in more than 1,300 newspapers worldwide, died at his home on Saturday. He was 76. “He had a stroke,” Hart’s wife, Bobby, said on Sunday. “He died at his storyboard.”"]
5. "The Black Dahlia": From The Swan Archives.
["To see the pictures is to want to rescue the poor kid, to mend her. But you can't. Which is why -- well, one of many reasons why -- Brian De Palma was exactly the right man to make this film. In fact, The Black Dahlia may be one of the most perfect matches of director to material in all of cinema."]
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"Links for the Day": Each morning, the House editors post a series of weblinks that we think will spark discussion. Comments encouraged.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Links for the Day (April 9th, 2007)
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8 comments:
Say what you will about Johnny Hart's late lapse into proselytization -- dying at your drawing board is pretty committed.
Re: Grindhouse
So, Keith, didja like it? Huh, huh? Didja didja didja?!?! ;)
You don't have to say now if you're planning on unveiling it in a review or your discussion with Matt, but I am curious. Already think I need to see it again, since I'm a bit iffy on some parts, but think hindsight and a second, recalibrating viewing will correct them. I'd also like to be able to do the three hours at one shot; forced to use the bathroom, I made my break during "Thanksgiving," since that is readily available online and I'd already seen it.
I was on my way to thinking Death Proof was something great, but the second half really sinks it.
For a while, it's fantastic. I love the feel of the bar scenes, hanging out with the characters as you know something insane is waiting for them, the meditation on various forms of misogyny, the observation of bland night-out details--taken to an unexpected height when Tarantino scores the girls' text messaging with the operatic romanticism of Pino Donaggio's Blow Out score.
But none of Death Proof second "mirror film" really works, and it goes to hell the moment Tarantino starts playing it as camp. The second group of girls are awful people--except for the Final Destination 3 chick, who her friends leave to get raped... you know, for a joke--yet Tarantino tries to sell their hedonistic sociopathy as female empowerment. Too cute. He has a great movie for a while, then lets go of his observational distance, and Death Proof loses its edge and credibility.
Mark Palermo
Not to give too much away because I do plan on writing at length about it, but I think "Death Proof" is incredible, and all the more so for the reasons Mark states as negatives. The second group of girls are despicable... what interests me is how Tarantino subtly plays on that. I think of the final drive Uma Thurman takes with her daughter in "Kill Bill", where her smile is elating, yet treads a simultaneous line between spiritualism and fetishism (and vice-versa), rhymed in "Death Proof" by Rosario Dawson's close-up which goes from fear to elation (maniacal elation) all of an instant.
Put more simply, I cheer the ending at the same time I feel more for Stuntman Mike... the taste is decidedly -- for me transcendentally -- bittersweet ("you make sugar taste like salt..."). Whether Tarantino realizes just how complicated a movie he's made is another point of discussion entirely. At any rate, I'm in love with Jungle Julia. =-)
As to the Rodriguez, well, I point to the name of the Christian production company WYSIWYG: What you see is what you get.
As you may have guessed, I'm with Keith on this one, even though my review doesn't really address the fact that what the second group of gals does is mostly deplorable, however much elation goes along with it. And Mark is smart to point to the girl left behind, perhaps to be raped, as that's one of the most curious choices the film makes. It's basically another lapse in judgment on the trio's part...and a finger pointing at the allure of bad deeds that these two films so relish. As in, the allure of the artificial has replaced reality for everybody -- nobody is thinking beyond the present. At least that's the case in Death Proof, which, even three days later, only gets better. I think I'm gonna see it again (and the rest of it) Thursday. As I said in an email diatribe last night, I'd rather watch Planet Terror five times than ever see Pan's Labyrinth again.
Also, re: "Whether Tarantino realizes just how complicated a movie he's made is another point of discussion entirely."
Word. And that's a discussion I think futile. The worth is in discussing how complicated Death Proof really is: it deserves some more in-depth word working on my part, I think. Still, I'm proud of my piece, if only for the fact that I got to say "This is Jungle Julie, she will fuck you up."
Is this the last interview with Bob Clark before his death? I haven't seen anything else written about it here on HND, but Over at Sergio Leone and the Infield Fly Rule, Dennis wrote a nice obit.
"Awful people"? "Despicable"? "Deplorable"? I agree that the ladies in the second half of Death Proof are rather freakishly gleeful in their zealous pursuit (even that the unsavory frontier justice attitudes of Zoe and Kim were unapologetically made clear well before Stuntman Mike roared upon them), but it's mostly forgiven because they share the one invaluable insight of great genre heroes: They know what movie they're in.
Recall Laurie Strode's friends not pausing to worry about Michael hovering round the streets of Haddonfield because they were deluded that the night ahead offered a fun teen-sex comedy romp; or John McClane immediately knowing the threat to the hostages in the high-rise is greater than anyone else can even imagine. Likewise Jungle Julie and her friends see crossing paths with a beefy, middle-aged stranger flashing a Blofield scar and a death's-head on his car hood as opportunity for a snarky story and some pleasantly flirtatious heat before heading out to bond in their chick-flick cabin in the woods.
Of course they don't deserve what's coming, and their innocence makes their death all the more tragic. I can't imagine another scene all year shocking an audience into silence so efficiently as Death Proof's horrific headon, not least because of how fondly Tarantino makes us care for the victims in such short time.
But Zoe and Kim nail Russell as a redneck peckerwood psycopath who needs squashing from the get-go. If there's one overriding lesson of American genre films, it's that you'd better always expect the worst if you want to make it out alive.
Though, yeah, the scene where Lee wakes up is unforgivably snickering.
Keith: "I think of the final drive Uma Thurman takes with her daughter in "Kill Bill", where her smile is elating, yet treads a simultaneous line between spiritualism and fetishism (and vice-versa), rhymed in "Death Proof" by Rosario Dawson's close-up which goes from fear to elation (maniacal elation) all of an instant."
A lovely catch/comparison.
the best thing i have ever seen (today) is that cover girl models poster. THANK YOU
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