If you ever wondered how many movies one man can watch in one weekend when he checks himself into a hotel Friday at 2:30 and checks out Sunday morning at 10, the answer is: 12.I suppose if the man had filled every available waking moment with movies, had chosen purposefully short ones, and forewent basic needs like using the toilet, that number might have been closer to 18. I'm crazy, but I'm not that crazy.
Given that I predicted three on Friday, five on Saturday and one on Sunday, which would have been only nine, I'd say I did quite well ... though in retrospect, those were pretty conservative guesses.
I actually started what would have been a 13th -- or, would have been 12th at the time and pushed my actual 12th to 13th -- at about 12:30 on Saturday night, but after 15 minutes of fighting my drooping eyelids, I gave in to reality. Besides, had to get up in time for that one final movie on Sunday morning before checkout.
Before I get into the movies (and the approximate times I started watching them), I'll just give you a bit of background, even if some of it will be repeating what I told you in Friday's post.
About once a year each, my wife and I like to take a break from parenting to go to a hotel for a night, to operate on schedules that are beholden to no one but ourselves. This is usually a single overnight, but we've recently acknowledged that this is not long enough -- that you barely feel like you've settled before you have to pack up and go home. So in what might be the start of a new tradition, we are now extending these trips to two nights, starting this past Friday afternoon. I took a half day on Friday and made my way out to my hotel of choice, just enough outside the city to feel like I was actually getting away, where I settled in for a long weekend of eating, drinking, being merry, and watching movies.
Not only did this experience deviate from other similar recent experiences by being an extra night, but it also marked the return of a formerly essential element of this experience: a projector. The little one my wife got me for Christmas in 2014 crapped out after less than six months, meaning it wasn't working for the first one of these I did after our move to Australia, to celebrate Australian Father's Day in September of 2015. Burned by that consumer experience, we didn't buy another one right away to replace it, but two weeks ago I took the plunge again. For $70 I bought something on Gumtree (the Australian equivalent of Craigslist) that I thought, or at least hoped, would do the trick of projecting my movies on one of the blank walls of the hotel room.
And boy did it. It's certainly not something you would make the centerpiece of a home theater. But it's extremely portable (the thing is barely bigger than your hand), and after fussing with the various settings on it, I got it to display a reasonably decent image with better-than-expected sound. Certainly good enough for movies I'd already seen, and plenty good for new movies as long as they were not renowned for their visuals or heavily reliant on subtitles. (More on that in a minute.)
And even despite watching these 12 movies, I also ate out a nice brunch, wrote a blog post, watched two innings of Game 1 between the Yankees and Astros streamed and projected on my wall, took two naps, and even video-chatted with a friend in America. I never took a walk in the park, but walking across to the shops across the street about four times ensured that I got out into the fresh air, at least when my supplies were running low.
Okay, enough preamble. Let's get to the movies. Just don't expect me to say all I might want to say about each. With 12 to get through, we're talking a couple of short paragraphs each.
1) Shawn of the Dead
Approximate start time: Friday, 2:30 p.m.
When watching movies during the day in a marathon like this, it behooves you to break movies down into "daytime movies" and "nighttime movies." Shawn of the Dead, as it does mostly take place during the day, seemed like a good "daytime movie." Even better, it was totally unpremeditated. After I lined up all 32 (!) movies I'd brought with me, it just jumped out at me and said "Me first!" So I acquiesced.
I've seen Shawn of the Dead twice, but my last viewing was more than a decade ago, and in fact, I saw it twice before I saw any other Edgar Wright movie. I hadn't seen it since Wright managed to build up some wariness in me over the course of his last couple films. The good news is, it charmed me just as much as it always does, and I really appreciate the funny things Wright is known for doing with his camera. Also, Bill Nighy's death scene is even more emotionally resonant for me now that I'm a parent. It seems unlikely Wright will ever make another movie that's this good.
2) Welcome to New York
Approximate start time: Friday, 5 p.m.
This was in a collection of movies I borrowed from the library a couple weeks back as kind of an "eh, why not?", and about the same level of decisiveness went into the choice to watch it in the second slot on Friday. It's Abel Ferrara's barely disguised retelling of the Dominique Strauss Kahn rape case, in which Gerard Depardieu plays Strauss Kahn, a sex addicted French politician named Devereaux. It made for my second unpremeditated pick of the day, which was nice, though I did secretly question the wisdom of devoting nearly two hours to such a shot in the dark. Didn't want to follow up Shawn of the Dead with a wrong turn.
Which it certainly seemed I had for about the film's first 30 minutes, during which time I was also reminded "Oh yeah, Abel Ferrara directed Bad Lieutenant." I consider that film pretty loathsome, and so is this one at first. The opening of this film is basically soft-core porn as Depardieu plays the role of a walking erection, a man who sleeps with high-end prostitutes in at least three different graphic scenes, treating them roughly and barking at them like a wolf. The amount Ferrara shoves this down our throat is off-putting, and must have felt really defamatory to someone like the real-life Strauss Kahn, scoundrel though he may be. By the time of the inept staging of his sexual assault of a hotel maid, I was wondering whether this film would earn a half-star or make its way all the way up to one whole star. However, the film does recover, especially in its last hour, when the crux of the drama shifts to the conversations between Devereaux and his wife, played by Jacqueline Bissett. These are some really thoughtful passages, and they almost worked the film up to three stars. Almost, but not quite.
This was also my first challenge in terms of clearly reading subtitles on my projector, as some of this film takes place in French. I was pleased to note that these particular subtitles were crafted in such a way that I could read them fine ... though I did not know if that would remain the case.
3) Thor: The Dark World
Approximate start time: Friday, 8:30 p.m.
This one was strictly business. I'd reserved this from the library in order to see it before Thor: Ragnarok comes out in a couple weeks, in case it's useful to know what happens here in order to truly appreciate that film. But I wasn't particularly excited for it. Consequently, I didn't mind the likelihood that the cheap-o projector would minimize some of its visual flair. So I sat down with my roasted chicken and chips that I'd just brought back from the shops, and got to work.
And I have to say, I kind of liked this movie. I can't even really explain why, as it's probably worse than the first Thor, and I don't really like the first Thor. Maybe I'm just becoming soft in my old age. Anyway, ludicrous as it was, I enjoyed it well enough. I think now that I've seen Tom Hiddleston in a lot more stuff since the last time I saw him as Loki, in The Avengers in 2012, I appreciate him more in this role now.
I should say that this was the first sign that not all subtitles would be good subtitles. This film's "big bad" speaks a made-up language for most of the time he's on screen, and I could not read the subtitles in this case. So when he was speaking, I did need to crane my neck over and read the words directly off the laptop screen. Fortunately, at least he spoke English when taunting our heroes.
4) House
Approximate start time: Friday, 10:45 p.m.
I already devoted a post to this yesterday, so I will only comment that this was the one movie that prompted me to abandon the projector. The whole movie is in Japanese, and the subtitles were just too hard to read ... not that the dialogue was particularly helpful in making sense of this particular movie. So this one mostly got watched off the laptop screen, though I'd look up to the wall from time to time if dialogue were absent for any particular stretch.
After this, I decided I'd save any remaining foreign language films for another time.
5) Maggie's Plan
Approximate start time: Saturday, 7:30 a.m.
Even when I have no kids to wake me up, my body won't let me sleep in, so open my eyes popped around 7:15 a.m. Might as well get my coffee and a couple donuts and get right into it.
Maggie's Plan had been part of my plan, so to speak, from the start. I knew Rebecca Miller's 2016 film would make a great choice for an afternoon or even morning movie, and it was probably the top contender for the opening slot on Friday before Shawn of the Dead presented itself. An indie with a lot of daytime scenes, more funny than sad probably.
It didn't disappoint. I must say, I was really taken with this. Although the film has the chance to present its high-concept scenario in really broad strokes, exaggerating its characters and those characters' traits, I found it quite humanistic in its approach. In particular I worried about the character portrayed by Julianne Moore, the Eastern European (I suppose?) self-absorbed intellectual, as not getting a fair shake, since it would be so easy to portray her as an outsized shrew. She's not, and as the movie moves along, you love her in all her imperfections, the same way you love all these imperfect characters. I'm looking forward to an eventual second viewing.
6) But I'm a Cheerleader
Approximate start time: Saturday, 11 a.m.
After the aforementioned nice brunch across the street of gourmet fritters and bacon, in which I was too cold to be sitting outside in only a t-shirt, I knew it was time for another movie I'd already seen, having watched four in a row that were new to me. In fact, that's pretty much how I devoted the remainder of my viewing time after this, with just one exception. But I'm a Cheerleader worked great as a morning/early afternoon movie, and I figured to love it just as much as the first time I saw it, maybe ten years ago.
What an adorably sweet movie -- and that's no backhanded compliment. Movies can be sweet because they don't challenge us and try too hard to please us, or they can be sweet like Cheerleader is, because it portrays genuine human beings in a way free from cynicism. I love both the performances in this movie (Natasha Lyonne has never been better) and the message it's trying to convey, which is a simple one that bears repeating in the case of closeted homosexuals: Just be yourself. I was reminded to my delight that an unrecognizable Rupaul is in this movie, and also that it includes some scenes from Michelle Williams before everyone considered her a critical darling. But the relationship between Lyonne and Clea Duvall is the film's touching center, and I love that the script has the smarts to reverse their roles as the film goes on, in a manner of speaking. This is a true gem that more people need to see.
7) Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Approximate start time: Saturday, 1:30 p.m.
Cheerleader's run time was pushed out a bit by the video chat I had with my friend, and then Barcelona's run time was stretched by the two innings of the aforementioned baseball game. Here was another movie that I'd seen only once and really liked, and whose many gorgeous Spanish exteriors were primarily seen by day, making it a good afternoon movie. I knew I'd lose a bit of what made the movie so nice to look at on the projector, but you usually watch Woody Allen for the dialogue and the character dynamics, don't you?
And those did not fail me. It's a really interesting study of the complicated yearnings of the human heart, something Allen classically does really well, lately less so. But Barcelona joins last year's Cafe Society to constitute one of his better films of his late-period output, with Rebecca Hall and Javier Bardem particularly strong among a note-perfect cast. (And I can't forget Penelope Cruz, who actually earned herself an Oscar for this one.) Allen's films tend to be very similar to each other, varying mostly in the quality. This is one of the good ones.
I appreciated how Bardem's character is constantly telling Cruz's character to speak in English in deference to Scarlett Johansson's character. It was also in deference to me, as I had trouble reading the subtitles of her Spanish.
8) Valkyrie
Approximate start time: Saturday, 4 p.m.
Sensing a theme here? I suppose not, unless I tell you: This was the third straight movie I'd really liked but seen exactly one time previously. Liking Valkyrie' had surprised me a lot more than liking either of its two predecessors on the viewing schedule, and I was dying to see if my affections were justified. (And now that were getting to late afternoon, the subject matter could feel free to get a little heavier.)
This is a solid, straightforward telling of one of the unsuccessful plots to assassinate Hitler, and if I didn't like it as much the second time as the first, it was almost as much. Bryan Singer's film is well made and it pulses with a certain type of righteous energy, while benefiting from the intrigue involved in the fine details of complicated plots, and the uncertainty about who you could trust to be a traitor to their country for the purpose of saving it. Valkyrie takes care of the language problem by giving Tom Cruise's character just a few lines of spoken German dialogue as he writes in a journal at the start, and then translating those words to English, which becomes the spoken language of the rest of the film. Clever, and also helpful in my current situation.
9) Poseidon
Approximate start time: Saturday, 6:30 p.m.
This one was a total surprise. I mean, I had it with me, but I seriously did not expect to watch it. However, I also did not expect to fit anything in between Valkyrie and my primetime viewing slot, which is the slot to go along with my dinner. But given the way I'd snacked all day (I was popping Tums all afternoon), there was no way I was eating dinner at 6:30.
Poseidon was probably a little worse than I expected it to be. It should be called "Poseidon, or Josh Lucas Does 37 Heroic Things" or "Poseidon, or That One Latina Woman Really Is Scared." Yeah, in addition to not being a very satisfying disaster movie, with only a few of the "whoa" moments that you come to movies like this for, it's also not very satisfying in terms of repudiating the white male patriarchal viewpoint. Mostly white males, mostly doing heroic things relative to their female counterparts. I think this was just before the "women can't be saved by a man" mandate hit Hollywood.
At least it was short at only 94 minutes, which was why I chose it.
10) Inside Llewyn Davis
Approximate start time: Saturday, 9:00 p.m.
You could say I didn't need another viewing of Insight Llewyn Davis, as it's existed for only four years and I've already seen it twice. I just wanted one. Enough to make it my primetime movie, the movie I enjoyed with my pad thai from the multi-Asian cuisine restaurant from across the street.
The third time was no better or worse than the other two, which is to say that I loved it from the very first (ranking it #3 of that year) and have not experienced either an uptick or downtick since then. So the only thing I'll really say is the one big takeaway from this viewing: It's at least the second Coens movie in which someone comments on the quality of their cereal. This is funny, because cereal is something that by its very nature is predictable and unvarying -- saving a change of recipe, it's the exact same thing every time you eat it. Yet in Raising Arizona, Evelle comments "Mighty fine cereal flakes, Mrs. McDunnough," and here, Troy Nelson, upon completing the cereal that woke up Llewyn, looks at the empty bowl and says "Well that was very good."
With the films you love, it's the deep dives.
11) Requiem for a Dream
Approximate start time: Saturday, 10:45 p.m.
This was my one absolutely certain viewing of the whole weekend. With us having just discussed Darren Aronofsky's career two podcasts ago, when mother! was our main review (I'm going with the little m), I felt that my first Requiem viewing in about 13 years (and third overall) was overdue. Like most people, I find this film hard to watch, but also kind of exhilarating, as it's a confrontational-ass piece of filmmaking that really provokes deep, hallucinatory fears. I just wondered if it was a confrontational-ass piece of filmmaking that would hold up. There are some who accuse it of being shallow, or worse, a pretentious student film.
That may describe his debut, Pi, to some degree, but I found myself as wrapped up in this film as I had on my two (or was it three?) previous viewings. I was suitably disturbed, but maybe not as shaken as I had been on previous occasions. More than anything I just admired the audacity of the filmmaking, and of techniques that have since been repeated elsewhere but never quite as powerfully as here. In fact, in an unintentional link to my first film of the weekend, I noticed that Edgar Wright actually utilizes the quick montages of drug use that are Requiem's most memorable stylistic flourish. Only Wright uses it kind of to poke fun at it, as the close-ups are of boring things like pouring coffee and brushing teeth, to emphasize the dull routine of Shawn and his mates.
12) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Approximate start time: Sunday, 7:30 a.m.
And the final film is always a film I know like the back of my hand, so I can watch it while also packing up the room and cleaning up the mess I have invariably made. I set an alarm to make sure I had time, but was up 45 minutes before it was set to go off, at the same 7:15 awakening time as the day before. Damn body clock.
Holy Grail is one of my favorite comedies of all time, and the movie that made me laugh the hardest I have ever laughed in my life during one particular scene -- the one where King Arthur steadily lops off the limbs of the black knight, who protests that the loss of an arm is "just a flesh wound." But I hadn't seen it in more than ten years, so it shouted out at me from the racks at the library as the obvious candidate for this spot. I know whole scenes by heart -- I can still recite the "constitutional peasant" scene word for word after memorizing it to perform all three parts during a talent show in the late 1980s -- but there are still some lesser scenes I don't know well at all. As it turns out, the scene where Sir Galahad goes to the castle populated entirely by women still does not work for me at all, and I tuned out just as I always do. But man, is this packed with comedy gems, and I was long overdue for a revisit.
And that's it. Then I went home.
The extra night did make all the difference. When you know you still have hours upon hours of viewing ahead of you, you don't stress too much about a wrong choice, or about losing an hour and getting "off schedule." With two nights, there's still plenty of time to recover. And there was.
I recommend the two-night hotel movie binge to any cinephile -- and try to get your hands on a projector if you can.
No comments:
Post a Comment