Category Archives: Film, TV & Theater

No Special Pleading From Hollywood

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Aaron SorkinI remember listening to an interview with Sidney Lumet about the making of Serpico. He told one story about Al Pacino hanging out with the real Frank Serpico. It was an acting exercise for Pacino, who was studying for the part. But then the relationship was broken off brutally. Lumet, sympathetic toward Serpico who he referred to as smart and funny, laughed the whole thing off. According to him, that was Hollywood and that was the necessary nature of their “art.” I didn’t buy it. To me, it was just a couple of rich and famous guys who were used to being jerks to people who had no power over them.

I had this feeling again that I was listening to the pampered Hollywood elites who think they are “artists” doing some kind of noble work — above the considerations of other people. In this case, it was Aaron Sorkin’s pathetic OpEd in The New York Times, The Sony Hack and the Yellow Press. Basically, it is a long whine about how unfair it is that the hacked information is getting reported. His logic is what we charitably call “completely wrong.”

He wants us to think about this as though it happened to one of us. Would we want our personal conversations revealed to the world? Of course we wouldn’t! But our personal conversations will not be revealed to the world because the world does not care. The world does care about Amy Pascal, because she runs Sony Pictures. And Amy Pascal gets paid really well to put up with the fact that a computer hack with information about her is news. Similarly, Aaron Sorkin’s $80 million net worth should sooth any hardships he may have to bear. And Angelina Jolie’s half billion dollar net worth is more than enough compensation for getting her fee-fees hurt.

But the whole thing is just so very hypocritical. Michael Hiltzik summed up the issue perfectly, Why the Press Must Report Those Sony Hacks:

Hollywood makes billions by manipulating reality, including the reality that is Hollywood itself. It’s not that executives don’t want information to be divulged about their machinations to get a movie made, or their judgments about actors, actresses and directors: they merely want it all to be published entirely according to their own spin.

That’s what it really all comes down to. It is exactly the same thing we see from the White House — no matter who is sleeping there at night. They don’t want any unauthorized leaks. But they love leaks! They provide a steady stream of leaks. They just don’t want any leaks that don’t flatter them. So Aaron Sorkin’s OpEd really is nothing more than special pleading. But there is no reason to give him or anyone else among the Hollywood elite any special treatment. Richard Nixon did not want the Pentagon Papers reported on because they made the government look bad. Aaron Sorkin doesn’t want the Sony hacks reported on because they make Hollywood look bad.

Hiltzik provided the perfect one word response: tough.

Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life

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Monty Python's The Meaning of LifeI just watched Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life — very possibly for the first time since I saw it in the theater. I wasn’t that impressed with it at the time. The main thing I liked was the Terry Gilliam short that starts it, The Crimson Permanent Assurance. There were other things that were good — especially “Every Sperm Is Sacred” and the sex education skit and the “Galaxy Song.” But this was overwhelmed by “live organ donations” and the exploding Mr Creosote. In fact, it was the memory of this latter bit that kept me away from the film for such a long time.

In a certain way, I can say that my opinion hasn’t changed. The film’s excesses are, well, excessive. And I’ll add something else: it goes overboard with its breast obsession. This starts with the lovely Patricia Quinn (Magenta in The Rocky Horror Picture Show) as the schoolmaster’s wife; continues with the execution sketch where a man is chased over a cliff by a bunch of topless women — often shot in slow motion for maximum effect; and finishes with the stage show in heaven, which looks an awful lot like the dinner show at the MGM Grand. It all seems so adolescent. But there is a difference in my perception this time: it all strikes me as very funny, even as it is mixed with disgust. (In the Creosote skit, I swear I can smell what is going on.)

The main thing that strikes me now is that the film is beautifully produced. The acting is by far the best that the Pythons ever did. The art direction and cinematography are as good as any film. And it is directed brilliantly. Terry Jones threads the needle perfectly by creating a visually stunning film that keeps cuts to a minimum so as to highlight the humor. And the musical numbers are a thing to behold. Nothing is better than “Every Sperm Is Sacred” — which is a far more elaborate sequence than I had remembered. The whole thing breaks out into the street for a truly wondrous dance number. Much the same is true of the last number, “Christmas in Heaven.” The one musical number that isn’t terribly well staged is also the best song in the film, “Galaxy Song.” I have the feeling that they were planning to do much more with the animation, but apparently Gilliam was focused on the Crimson short.

One thing that I really liked this time, which left me flat before, was the whole sequence about the stiff upper-lipped British officers in the Zulu War. Much of it is just brilliant like Cleese’s mirror getting shot while he’s shaving — he bristles at the interruption and then picks up a broken piece and finishes. But the part that killed was when Palin and Idle were in the tiger suit. It is like the best vaudeville act ever. And Idle’s business with the tiger head and whiskers is priceless.

There is also a deleted scene that is quite brilliant. After the protestants discuss how they can use condoms and how the freedom to have sex for pleasure is what the reformation was all about, there was to be a skit featuring Martin Luther (played by Terry Jones with a Jimmy Durante accent). In it, Luther is a sex-crazed nut who has just broken out of prison. The skit revolves around a friend of his hiding his daughters. It is very funny:

I also like their ultimate statement of the meaning of life, “Try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations.” I’m afraid that’s about as profound a statement as there is on the matter. But as obvious as it is, it still seems to be beyond the grasp of some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time.

Monty Python’s Life of Brian is still probably the most satisfying of their films. But The Meaning of Life contains their very best work. And it hangs together pretty well as a film. I think the biggest problem people have had with it is their own preconceptions of what it ought to be. It needs to be appreciated for what it is: probably the best sketch comedy-musical ever made.

Aphra Behn

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Detail of Aphra Behn by Peter LelyBefore getting to the birthday post proper, I just want to say that it is the painter Roger Fry‘s birthday, and I love his work. I just don’t know that much about him. And for some reason, there isn’t all that much of his work online. Nor is a book about or by him in the library. But maybe by next year, I will have something to write about. He’s very deserving. Of course, so is the subject of today’s birthday post.

On this day in 1640, the great English writer Aphra Behn was baptized. Like most people from that time, we don’t know when she was born. The standard thing is to assume that people were baptized when they were three days old. That’s what the birthdays of Shakespeare, Marlowe, and Cervantes are: their baptismal dates minus three days. So with Behn, we are just going with the baptism. And it hardly matters. Why not that day?

Well, why not any day? The truth is that we don’t even know Behn’s real name. The date of her baptism is apocryphal. We don’t really know anything about her. And that is very probably by intention. The literary theorist Germaine Greer said of her, “She is not so much a woman to be unmasked as an unending combination of masks.” Even the one place where seemingly every adult is documented finds her missing: tax records.

To give you some idea of just how vexing her life story is, check out this passage from Wikipedia:

Shortly after her supposed return to England from Surinam in 1664, Behn may have married Johan Behn (also written as Johann and John Behn). He may have been a merchant of German or Dutch extraction, possibly from Hamburg.

Shortly after returning from a place she may have never been, she may have married a man who might have been of a particular profession and maybe from a particular place. It is exasperating! But we do seem to know that she worked as a British spy in the Netherlands. She was supposed to get in good (Seduce?!) the son of the exiled son of the recently executed Thomas Scot. For this dangerous service, the King of England (Charles II at that time) repaid her the way they normally did: by abandoning her and not even paying her expenses.

Because she was in debt, she started writing for a couple of theater companies. Her early works were rather bawdy, like, The Amorous Prince. But she found more success later with comedies. She wrote a total of 19 plays and was the first notable female playwright in England (other than Queen Elizabeth who wrote all of Shakespeare’s plays). But she did far more than this. She also did a great deal of translation, and most important, she was key in the development not just of the English novel, but of the novel generally.

Sadly, she spent pretty much all of her adult life in debt. She may have been working at a furious pace (only John Dryden wrote more plays during that period), but it didn’t pay off very well. Perhaps the British were as bad about paying women then as we are today. On the other hand, there are two portraits of her by noted artists (and perhaps a third). So maybe she just lived beyond her means, as seems to have been typical of writers then — and now. She died in poverty at the age of 48.

Happy birthday Aphra Behn!

Zulu and the Politics of Power

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ZuluLast night, I watched the 1964 classic, Zulu. I’ve always really liked the film, but it also seems somehow racist. I add the modifier there, because the film goes out of its way to portray the Zulu with a great deal of dignity. And having watched the film again, I am of the opinion that it isn’t racist, although it is Anglophilic: it tells the story entirely from the standpoint of the British. I don’t think there is anything wrong with that — especially given when the film was made. What I think is most interesting, however, is that an equally great film could be made entirely from the Zulu perspective.

I love the stories of family squabbles, especially when they have consequences far outside the family. Cetshwayo kaMpande, the king of Zululand, was a good ruler. The British were the aggressors in the Anglo-Zulu war. And overall, the Zulu were doing quite well. But Cetshwayo was not out to create a new empire. He was just trying to hold onto to his own kingdom. Even after his success at the Battle of Isandlwana (the subject of the mediocre film Zulu Dawn), he wanted to make peace with the British. And he might have been successful if it weren’t for his half-brother, Dabulamanzi kaMpande.

It was Dabulamanzi who instigated the Battle of Rorke’s Drift — the subject of Zulu. Rorke’s Drift was outside of Zululand and Cetshwayo did not want to attack outside of his own land. That’s not to say that Dabulamanzi was disloyal. In fact, he was very loyal. He was just younger and less wise. It’s not clear what he really thought to accomplish at Rorke’s Drift. A victory would have meant nothing compared to the victory at Isandlawana. As it was, the British didn’t win the battle so much as survive. That brings up the important point about the ending of Zulu.

The most beautiful part of the film is where the Zulu sing a song in preparation for a huge attack. In response, the British sing, “Men of Harlech.” It is a beautiful moment that has no historical basis. But who cares? It is followed by the Zulu attack. The British fall back and form three lines of fire. And after much sound and fury, the British are left standing in front of a sea of death Zulu warriors. It is an amazing bit of filmmaking, switching from the lyricism of the singing scene to the brutality of the attack.

After this, the film cuts to three hours later where we learn that the Zulu have not attacked again. Then the Zulu appear on the hillside — thousands of them. The British don’t even try. It is over. But instead of attacking, the Zulu sing a song honoring them as fellow warriors. And then the Zulu go on their merry. It works rather well as an ending to the film, but it isn’t what happened. In fact, the Zulu just disappeared because they were short on supplies, with many wounded, and far from home.

But Rorke’s Drift had great public relations benefit for the British. I question whether the British would have continued on with the Anglo-Zulu War without this “victory” — especially with Cetshwayo’s attempts to broker a peace. But it’s hard to say. In terms of imperialism, the British were not nearly as bad as many. But that’s just a function of how bad others — notably my own Portuguese ancestors — were, and not of the British being great.

Another interesting thing about the battle is what happened to the British soldiers who fought in it. Most of them died quite young. Lieutenant Bromhead, for example, died of typhoid fever at the age of 45 while serving in India. But the situation was much worse for lower ranks. One of the men, William Jones, ended up pawning his Victoria Cross. He died in a workhouse. But in some ways, he was lucky — living into his 70s. The most extreme case was that of Ferdinand Schiess. He couldn’t find work — a common situation for the men who fought at Rorke’s Drift. A few years after the battle, he was discovered by the Royal Navy on the streets of Cape Town — starving. They saved him, but he died on the journey back to England. He was 28 years old. (That is the age that the hero dies in Jude the Obscure — written around the same time.)

I bring this up because it shows the way that the powerful treat the people. It doesn’t matter if they are enemies (reluctant though they may be) or friends — even heroes. They are all expendable.

Image licensed under Fair Use.

John Cassavetes

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John CassavetesOn this day in 1929, the great American filmmaker John Cassavetes was born. It seems to me that in recent years, younger film lovers have often discounted him. In fact, among some it seems hip to do so. I think you have to be determined to find fault. Either that or you must care for style above all else. Like all artists, Cassavetes has to be seen within his historical context. But even outside that, he made some of the most powerful films ever. And that is why among more mature viewers — and internationally — Cassavetes’ reputation has only grown.

I’ll admit, I’m a special kind of sucker for Cassavetes’ film. He was one of the rarest of creatures: someone who was both idiosyncratic and brilliant. Even the goofy genre film Gloria eschews the formula and tells an interesting story with surprising simplicity. But it isn’t what I most love about his work. For that, you have to go back to Faces and especially A Woman Under the Influence, which is probably Cassavetes’ masterpiece. But if you want a less intense film, you might try, The Killing of a Chinese Bookie. It’s a lot like Gloria but not quite so silly:

Happy birthday John Cassavetes!

Pasolini’s Atheistic Tribute to Christianity

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The Gospel According to St Matthew - Pier Paolo PasoliniI just watched Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1964 classic, The Gospel According to St Matthew. Leave it to a gay atheist Marxist to create the most reverential portrayal of Jesus that I have ever seen. What’s most remarkable is how true it is to the source material. And that is probably the key. Pasolini doesn’t bring his own belief to soil it. Even if one were to grant that the gospels are true, there is too much folklore that goes along with them. For example, the widely held belief that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, even though there is nothing in the Bible that says that. But I also think Pasolini’s choice to present a single gospel was the correct one, because it doesn’t offer up opportunities to pick and choose.

Because everyone knows the story, the film doesn’t need to worry much about transitions. As a result, it is very fluid. The down side of this is that there is relatively little dramatic momentum to the story until the third act. But that is true of the Gospel of Matthew, and indeed all the gospels. They are highly episodic. It isn’t hard to understand why people so easily accepted that Matthew and Luke were based upon some lost (“Q”) document of sayings of Jesus. That’s how they come off: a very thin plot to hang the sayings on. So it was necessary for the film to have this form.

Even still, The Gospel According to St Matthew is really compelling. Pasolini is not normally considered an Italian neorealist, but his early films do at least have that sensibility. And this one is very explicitly so. But given that it is still a historical drama, it misses out on some of the best aspects of the movement — most especially the natural street scenes. But the actors are amateurs and the camera work is easy, even careless at times. It might seem amateurish if it were not constantly interesting to look at. Also: Enrico Maria Salerno, who does Jesus’ voice, is an incredible actor.

Another aspect of the film is that it includes far more humanity than comes across while reading the gospels. I think this is to be expected, given Pasolini’s humanist instincts. The best example of this is the scene where Jesus repudiates his mother. I have always felt that it lays very flat on the page. If anything, Jesus comes off as a monster. But here it seems more like something that Jesus feels he must do as part of his ministry. And his mother, although hurt, understands. There are many other renderings such as Judas’ emotional reaction to Jesus’ death sentence.

One thing I really like is what a scold Jesus is. He spends half the movie quite angry. It’s rather nice for a change. As I said, most people’s conception of Jesus is based in large part on folklore. Maybe they’ve gotten the wrong idea from “prince of peace.” But in the gospels, Jesus is mostly pissed off. And in the film, he only manages to smile a couple of times — usually when observing children. His demeanor changes in the third act, just as it does in the gospel.

It’s sad that a film like this does not do it for the modern American Christian. But perhaps it is not surprising. It’s heavy on theology and light on blood. No wonder Americans would so love The Passion of the Christ. Is that really what they get from Christianity? Mel Gibson claimed that he was most impressed that Jesus could suffer so much. I really think that’s a psychopathic reading of the Bible. And that seems to be the American reading of the Bible too.

But not surprisingly, smelling money, the owners of The Gospel According to St Matthew put out a shortened colorized English dubbed version of the film. I have no problem with the dubbing. For one thing, it was dubbed originally in Italian, as was typical of Italian films of that era. And the English dubbing is very good as far as I could tell with a spot check. But 45 minutes were taken out of the film. No doubt little of consequence was taken out; Pasolini paced the film deliberately; but I think that’s an important part of its temperament. Of course, I can’t say for sure, because I haven’t watched it. But the worst thing — the totally unacceptable thing — is the colorization. The film looks good in black and white. The colorization takes away all the lighting subtlety and leaves just the most annoying pastels imaginable. Added to this, the black and white print is not presented in progressive scan — so it doesn’t fill widescreen monitors. It’s just shameful.

Nonetheless, the film is quite an experience. And it is a loving tribute to one of the world’s great religions, as could only be done by a non-believer. If you are into film, it is worth checking out. And if you are a Christian, I really think you ought to watch the film. It is the closest you are likely to get to a direct rendering of a gospel on the screen. And you might learn something too.

The Birdcage Two Decades On

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The BirdcageI just watched The Birdcage after having not seen it since it was in the movie theaters back in 1996. It is probably not quite as good as I had remembered it. But it has a great script by Elaine May. It is especially good in that May managed to take what is basically a filmed play in La Cage aux Folles and turned it into a movie. What’s more, Mike Nichols gets every bit of comedy out of the material. And he gets great performances out of everyone — especially Robin Williams, who is often just unwatchable.

But there are problems. One is that Nichols does tend to get a little film-craft crazy — and this really doesn’t mesh well with what is otherwise a very direct style. For example, there is a really amazing long helicopter shot that seamlessly dissolves into a steadicam shot that walks across the street, inside the club, and all the way to back. I appreciate that kind of thing because I marvel at the technique. I also think that it is narcissistic and unnecessary. It was also an incredibly trendy thing to do. As I remember it, pretty much every film in the mid-90s did it. Regardless, for people who know film, such tricks are simply a distraction. And for everyone else, they are just a waste.

The bigger problem is that The Birdcage is still a faithful remake of La Cage aux Folles. And so the plot is entirely dependent upon upon the kids behaving foolishly. Regardless of how well this one dinner goes, the story will never play all the way to the wedding — much less after it when the daughter’s last name will be Goldman and not Coleman. But that would be okay, if the adults had some possible reason for not noticing this. And so, even when I first saw the film, I thought the kids behaved terribly right up through the denouement. But that strikes me as picky. May dealt with the problem as well as I can possibly imagine it being done.

Another thing about the film is that I had remembered it as being more toned down than La Cage aux Folles. I don’t think that’s true. It’s very much the Looney Tunes of portrayals of gay culture. This is exactly what conservatives must be thinking when they talk about the “homosexual lifestyle.” What’s remarkable is just how much more authentic the portrayal of gay people has become over the two decades since then. The Birdcage probably was state of the art for Hollywood at that time. We seem now to be at the point where a homosexual relationship is hardly worth noting. I suppose this is something that should cheer us up when we look at so many other areas where we are regressing.

Otherwise, the film is delightful. It has some of the best movie lines ever written. I had remembered some of them like, “Oh I see, so you’re going to a cemetery with your toothbrush. How Egyptian.” But one line I had totally forgotten that busted me up was, “I’m very maternal. And Albert’s practically a breast.” But what most stood out to me were two short speeches by Armand (Robin Williams). The first is the defense of his life, when his son really is asking the unacceptable:

Yes, I wear foundation. Yes, I live with a man. Yes, I’m a middle-aged fag. But I know who I am, Val. It took me twenty years to get here, and I’m not gonna let some idiot senator destroy that. Fuck the senator, I don’t give a damn what he thinks.

And the other is after Albert has announced that he is going to the Los Copa cemetery — implying suicide:

My cemetery’s in Key Biscayne. It’s one of the prettiest in the world. The sky is blue, palm trees, rolling hills. The one in Los Copa’s really shit. What a pain in the ass you are. And it’s true: you’re not young, you’re not new, and you do make people laugh. And me? I’m still with you because you make me laugh. So you know what I’ve got to do? I’ve got to sell my plot in Key Biscayne so I can get one next to you in that shithole Los Copa, so I never miss a laugh.

Like all great comedy, The Birdcage is at heart sentimental. If you haven’t seen it in a while (or ever), you should really check it out. And you can also remember Mike Nichols and Robin Williams, who both died this year.

Steven Wright

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Steven WrightToday, the great comedian Steven Wright is 59 years old, which makes me feel very old. He is known for his surreal one-liners. But he is a lot more than that, as I will discuss in a moment. First, however, I want to discuss one of his jokes.

The joke is this: “If you were in a vehicle traveling at the speed of light and you turned your lights on, would they do anything?” This is a better description of Special Relativity than you are ever likely to hear. To begin with, nothing would happen. And that should explain why it is that you couldn’t have a vehicle that is traveling at the speed of light.

If we change the joke so that the vehicle is traveling at just under the speed of light, then the answer would be: yes. The light would emit at the speed of light. And the crux of the matter is that regardless of who was watching your vehicle, they would see the light moving at the same speed. That is why I spent years during my twenties obsessed with Special Relativity. But eventually, I learned as we all must, that since I have no actually experience of riding around in spaceships, I had no “common sense” about the way the world works when different objects were moving very fast relatively to each other. Regardless, I think you can learn a whole lot more from that one joke than you can from a single physics course.

At this point, I’m much more interested in Wright as a filmmaker than a comedian. He’s made a couple of half hour films. The most recent is One Soldier. It is very good and even kind of profound, if a bit too much like a Bergman parody. The first is The Appointments of Dennis Jennings. It’s very funny, with a brilliant ending:

Happy birthday Steven Wright!

Fritz Lang

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Fritz LangOn this day in 1890, the great filmmaker Fritz Lang was born. He is primarily known for two iconic films. The first is one of the greatest silent films, Metropolis. It is visually stunning (even by today’s standards) and great story telling. Thematically, I have some problems with it. It shows the unjust class divide of that time as well as today. But it also shows the workers of Metropolis as a bunch of sheep who are easily led to do good or evil. I can well see why Joseph Goebbels loved the film and offered Lang the job of running Universum Film AG. (It was at that moment that Lang decided he had to get out of Germany. He went to France for two years and then made the very smart decision to move to the United States.) The entire two and a half hour 2010 restored print of the film is available on YouTube. But here is the trailer, which gives a good idea of just how amazing the film is:

His second iconic film was made four years later, M. It was also his first film with audible dialog. But unlike early American sound pictures, it was not staged at all. In fact, much of it has an almost neorealist feel to it. And there isn’t much to the story. There’s a man who we assume is molesting and then killing children. The town chase after him and put him on trial. And here is that scene:

He made a couple dozen films in the United States. There are generally quite good, but they aren’t revolutionary like his early work. Even still, he was critical to the development of the look and feel of film noir. And, of course, Hollywood constrained him because he remained an artist and we can’t have that now, can we? He ended his career with a couple of German productions, including the successful, The Thousand Eyes of Dr Mabuse. Here is a terrible dubbed trailer for the film:

Happy birthday Fritz Lang!

Max Baer Jr

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Max Baer JrThe iconic Max Baer Jr is 77 years old today. He will always be remembered as Jethro Bodine on The Beverly Hillbillies. When I was a kid, I hated that character. I didn’t have much of an appreciation for stupid characters. I liked Elly May — not because she was gorgeous (although she was), but because she was brilliant. Regardless, I wasn’t much of a The Beverly Hillbillies fan anyway. I would probably like it more now.

Baer’s father was the great boxer Max Baer. If you aren’t a boxing fan, you probably only know him from his portrayal in Cinderella Man. And you would get entirely the wrong idea about him. By all accounts he was a decent guy. But the movie is quite good. Just don’t believe what it says about Baer. But that has nothing to do with Max Baer Jr, who I am writing about, at least in theory.

After nine seasons and 274 episodes of The Beverly Hillbillies, Baer tried his hand at at feature filmmaking — the sort of films I remember watching at drive-ins when I was just a kid. He had the knack! In 1974, he produced and co-wrote Macon County Line. It is a revenge film with a twist. Well worth checking out! Baer and director Richard Compton made the film for about a hundred thousand dollars and made $30 million. Here is the totally awesome trailer (it is not a true story):

He went on to make a few more films — generally quite successfully. The biggest film was Ode to Billy Joe. I actually hate the film, but that isn’t his fault. I just love the song so much, and the film destroys it by making the story concrete. What’s brilliant about the song is that other than the emotional core, the listener has no idea what’s actually happened.

After roughly five years of writing, producing, and directing, Baer pretty much retired at the age of 40. And why not? He was ridiculously wealthy by that time. He did, apparently, try to get the film rights for “Like a Virgin.” That could have been an awesome film too!

Happy birthday Max Baer Jr!

Jean-Luc Godard

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Jean-Luc GodardThe great filmmaker Jean-Luc Godard is 84 years old today. I know, last year I referred to him as overrated. I’ll stand by that. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t great. It’s a general thing anyway. I think the French “New Wave” have been hopelessly overrated. This is probably due to the fact that most of them were film writers so they were in a position to plug themselves — which they did. But generally, give me Robert Bresson over any of them. And generally Alain Resnais over Godard or Truffaut.

Above all, I have never been able to get into À Bout de Souffle, or Breathless as it is commonly known in English. But I’m not one to especially appreciate cinematic technique when it isn’t combined with compelling characters, plot, or theme. I’m willing to admit that I’m missing something, but the film seems to me very sloppy, never clear what it is trying to say. And it has the plot of Dillinger, with less interesting characters.

Godard got more interesting the more political he became. I’ve always been very fond of Alphaville and later still La Chinoise and Week End. His later work also shows more wit, even when he’s being serious. But it is hard to show any of this here. So consider just a minute from Alphaville. I think you can see a direct line from this to Jon Jost:

Happy birthday Jean-Luc Godard!

Sarah Silverman

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Sarah SilvermanSarah Silverman is 44 years old today. She’s very strange, but I really like that kind of postmodern comedy. But I’ll admit, there are times when her work is more anxiety producing than laughter producing. But I’d rather have that than something boring. Most comedians are boring. The strange thing is that at this point, I know Silverman more from her political videos than I do from her actual stand-up act or her show.

But two years ago, TED Talks decided to book her. Apparently, they did not feel as though their message of pseudo-innovation that absolutely positively cannot offend the power elite was strong enough. So after she performed, doing exactly the sort of thing she’s always done, the group freaked out and for a while didn’t allow the video to be released. Because you know: they needed to drive home their brand as purveyors of pseudo-innovation that absolutely positively cannot offend the power elite. Silverman’s act was, of course, funny as hell:

Happy birthday Sarah Silverman!