Sunday, September 30, 2007

Things I've Learned from the Willie List



Things I’ve learned thus far from the Willie List nominations:

People who like zombie movies REALLY LIKE zombie movies.

There is at least one other person in the world besides me and my friends who is into Nightmare On Elm St. 3: Dream Warriors.

Everybody has their own pet Friday the 13th sequel.

Some people thought The Village was scary. And Signs. Weird.

Everybody who votes for Jaws (which is a lot of people) feels the need to explain that it is, indeed, a scary movie about a killer shark, not just a big famous Spielberg movie.

There exists in the world a movie called Punishment Park, which is possibly the coolest title I’ve ever heard. (Hmmm, on second thought it doesn’t really beat my old favorite Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things.)

Somebody in the world knows why Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 is a good movie.



Saturday, September 29, 2007

Fun with the Willie List



If you haven't jumped on board and started compiling your nominees for our 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies, man, I just don't know what I can do to convince you. Do I need sign you up for Netflix and come over to your house with some pumpkins to carve to get you in the mood?

I've received twenty (20) ballots so far and there have been a whopping sixty-three (63) films nominated already. All the usual suspects are represented--if I have to log one more vote for The Exorcist I'm going to stab myself in the eye with a fork. There have also been plenty of obscure films (some I haven't heard of, which is particularly exciting) and a bunch of left-field choices. The voter who listed Fight Club felt the need to include a parenthetical justification; the one who listed Hot Fuzz did not. So far I've only had to disqualify one vote, so most of you are either paying attention or just don't like t.v. movies. The greatness of Salem's Lot is duly noted--although the d.q.'d vote was actually for It, which isn't nearly as good but does include a grown-up John Boy having asthma attacks, which is pretty fun to watch.

By the way: if anyone can hip me to a good resource for screenshots it would make the presentation of the final list a lot more aesthetically pleasing. Know what I'm saying?




Friday, September 28, 2007

Wes Anderson Month, we hardly knew ye



Today, with The Darjeeling Limited opening the New York International Film Festival, we can stop counting down, and mark the official end of Wes Anderson Month. Frankly, with all of the nominating lists for the 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies poll coming in everyday, Shocktober! has already begun for me.

If you would like to relive the magic all over again, here's a look back at the highlights of Wes Anderson Month:

WES ANDERSON, NOSTALGIA, & the 11 YEAR OLD POINT OF VIEW




UNDERCLASS OVERACHIEVER/WEARY FORMER SUCCESS: Character Types in the Films of Wes Anderson




Monad's Moments of Mention: The Life Aquatic





And, to end things right, this post contains a really big Daily Dose of Darjeeling.





Images courtesy of the fine folks at RushmoreAcademy.com to whom I must extend my gratitude for the support all month-long that really made Wes Anderson Month happen. Thanks guys!

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Confessions of a Freaked-Out Young Shining Viewer




One of the things that makes doing this list interesting for me is that I wasn’t a ‘scary movie’ fan growing up. I was the one fanboy supergeek who had no interest in horror cinema. You know those people who, when you ask them what kind of music they’re into, say “I listen to everything. Except classical and country.” That was me. I loved all types of movies—except scary ones. Looking back now, I realize it’s because I was a wimp.

I’d intellectualize the hell out of it. “Horror movies are generally quite dumb,” the teenage me would say, “I only enjoy the ones that in some way discuss themselves AS horror films, like The Shining or In the Mouth of Madness.” I also liked some of the funny ones for the same reason: The Burbs, From Dusk Til Dawn. Then, when I was 15, Scream came out, and I thought it was the best thing ever. It seemed to prove my point, that self-referentiality was the only thing that could make horror truly interesting.

But, since I wasn’t really a ‘scary movie’ fan I was ill equipped for Scream. My sister was in high school in the late ‘80’s, so she was the prime audience for the video nasties era. I can remember sleepover parties where her friends would bring over I Spit on Your Grave or Last House on the Left. I was ten, or younger, and would flee from the room almost immediately. The only one of their favorites that I would stick around for was The Serpent & the Rainbow. As a film geek (at 15 I had already written 4 or 5 screenplays), I got the jokes in Scream even if I had never actually SEEN the movies they were talking about.

It wasn’t until relatively recently that I began to seek out all of these movies and watch them, and in doing so, examine my relationship with horror cinema. Why had I avoided it while embracing just about every other genre in the book? Just last week I caught myself claiming in a post that I didn’t understand people who say they get freaked out by movies… and then I started compiling a list called 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies. So what’s going on here?




I started reaching back in my memory to that time before I had cemented the idea in my head that I didn’t like scary movies. For eternity I had been claiming that The Shining was the only horror movie I thought was actually worthy of being called a GREAT FILM. I tried to remember the first time I saw it, thinking that maybe recalling the experience would unlock some sort of secret code in my personality. Weirdly, it worked. I remembered with perfect clarity the first time I saw The Shining: I was scared shitless. I was at the girl next door’s house—Nikki Alves—with all of my friends. Somebody put on The Shining. I was maybe 11 or 12. We’d watched The Faces of Death series just recently and it did nothing but provoke me to point out all the times when it was obviously fake, so I obviously wasn’t just squeamish. But as soon as that tracking shot started in, right at the beginning of The Shining, the way the camera seemed to be looming over the world started creeping me out. And then it finds the car, and latches onto the family inside, and it’s like a presence from out in that wilderness has found them by accident and is now stalking them.

I was freaking out right from the start, before there was anything even scary on the screen. But I was trying to play it cool, I didn’t want everyone to know that I was afraid of a MOVIE. But then the scene when Jack goes into the room and finds the woman in the bathtub came on. She’s naked. Again, I’m 11, so I’m pretty excited by the sight of a naked woman, and then she turns… hideous. And the camera is still… LOOMING. All of those emotions pushed together into one moment was much too much for me. I jumped up, made some excuses and ran home.

So there it was. The only horror movie I claimed to like SCARED ME TO DEATH the first time I saw it. To the point that I couldn’t even finish watching it. Other memories came back to me: my friends wanting to watch Hellraiser or Nightmare on Elm St. 2 after school and me making them turn the sound off when it got to the scary parts. My mother tells me the first movie I ever saw was The Neverending Story and I was scared to death, but I don’t think that really counts.

Anyway, there you have it: I admit it. I’ve been scared by horror movies all along and I’ve avoided them and called them dumb instead of confronting my emotions. For the last month I’ve been watching quite a few horror movies (depending upon what your definition of horror is, of course: see Piper’s post today at Lazy Eye Theatre for more thoughts on the matter) and I’m obviously not scared of them like I was when I was a kid, but I’m beginning to understand the appeal. The young Michael at the beginning of Rob Zombie’s Halloween remake, for instance, gave me the creeps. The grown-up Michael at the end, however, did not.

I’m sure all of these issues will continue to swirl around in my head as the nominating ballots for the 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies list keep pouring in. (Also: I didn't really follow up on the proposition that I was attracted to Scream because of its self-referentiality and how that attraction was the result of the distance it allowed me to place between myself and the text. I just wanted to point out the shortcomings of posting a first draft written bleary-eyed in the morning during your first cup of coffee before rushing off to class...)


Wednesday, September 26, 2007

31 FLICKS THAT GIVE YOU THE WILLIES: a more official announcement


In an effort to not use the words ‘greatest,’ ‘favorite,’ or ‘best’ in the title of the list we’re compiling with this survey/poll thingy, I have decided to call it (in honor of the criteria Piper over at Lazy Eye Theatre is using to compile his list)

The 31 FLICKS THAT GIVE YOU THE WILLIES. So, I again implore you dear readers, please send in your list of the 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies. And tell your friends that they, too, should send in the list of 31 Flicks That Give Them the Willies. And so on.

Here’s how it’s going to work:

By SATURDAY, OCT. 13 (ohh, Spooky, Saturday the 13th!) you submit your list of the 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies. Films must be feature length and they must be films: no t.v. mini-series allowed. (Sorry, Salem’s Lot fans.) Also, please don’t vote for a series, individual films only. If you want to vote for all three Evil Dead films it’s going to take three votes to do it.

Lists need not be in any particular order, these are nominating lists only. If a film appears on 3 or more lists, it will be nominated. Lists of nominees will be posted as soon as I can possibly get to it, and then the voting begins. We’ll talk more about the voting lists (which will be ranked) and the deadlines for them when the time is right. It will probably be a few days before the end of the month, so the final list can be published on Halloween.

Thanks to everyone who is participating in this. If you’re planning on submitting a list, drop me a line in the comments if you haven’t done so. I’ve received four completed nominating lists already! The first three lists only had one film listed on all of them, but after the fourth lists came in, five more films were nominated. The lists have been fascinating so far, and I can’t wait to see more.


24 WORDS PER FILM (#11)



Gratuitous 'teen girl in bikini' shots don’t stop Disturbia from being worthy of the complement inherent in the critic’s snarky shorthand “Rear Window, Jr.”


Daily Dose of DARJEELING


Image courtesy of RushmoreAcademy.com

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Daily Dose of DARJEELING

Wes Anderson Month is winding down here at Shoot the Projectionist, and we're gearing up for all the excitement that Shocktober! has in store: the Ghoul, Ghost, Killer or Fiend of the Day, the 31 Flicks That Give You the Willies survey/list thingy...

Only 4 more days left to countdown to The Darjeeling Limited...


Image courtesy of RushmoreAcademy.com

What Makes a Horror Film?

Bleeding Tree’s recently posted some thoughts on the definition of horror, as a result of trying to come up with his list for the 31 Greatest Horror Films survey. He brings up some interesting points, although I disagree fundamentally with the definition he comes up with for himself, which is “a story primarily intended to generate fear by use of, or suggestion of, supernatural, or otherwise otherworldly, forces working against humans or humanity as a whole.”

I am excited that the possibly banal exercise of yet more list-making is provoking thought. Through the list of films we nominate and ultimately include in our list of 31 Greatest Horror Films, we will be—as a community—coming up with a definition of horror, in a way. We’ll be saying that these 31 films represent the history of horror—the best it has to offer.

As we go about doing that, I’d like to hear what guidelines each of you is using to determine your own lists. As Bleeding Tree quotes me saying in the original announcement for the survey, “As far as I’m concerned, slashers, giallo, horror comedies/parodies, and any movie with a ghost, ghoul, zombie, vampire, or werewolf fit the bill.” I’m already taking flack for the all-inclusiveness of this statement, and I do agree that genre definitions are important and useful tools in film criticism. So let me hear it: What makes a horror film?

UPDATE: On that post I linked to above by Neil from Bleeding Tree, Piper from Lazy Eye Theatre posted a comment saying of the criteria he's using for inclusion on his list, "Anything that gives me the willies is in." I like that.

Monday, September 24, 2007

DARJEELING Dose, plus links

I'm hoping our 31 Greatest Horror Films list is different than one you could read in Entertainment Weekly. It can be eclectic, intelligent, and spotlight a lot of films that don't normally receive attention. We just have to vote for the right movies.

Here are a couple of great lists of underrated or otherwise off-beat title to get the juices flowing. Everyone knows The Exorcist and Halloween are great. Let's honor some other deserving films!

Cinebeats contributes 20 to the Eurotrash Pinnacle list here: http://david-z.blogspot.com/2007/03/eurotrash-film-pinnacle-project.html

Sergio Leone and the In-Field Fly Rule--and the writer of all 5 Chucky movies--give us great lists of 13 underrated horror films here:
http://sergioleoneifr.blogspot.com/2006/10/unusual-suspects-13-underrated-ignored.html

Also, DVD Panache posted another entry in the wonderful Wes Anderson series, It's In the Details, this one on Life Aquatic.

And here's your Daily Dose of DARJEELING:



Image courtesy of RushmoreAcademy.com

Bunuel-a-thon, non; Dali, si!


Today begins the Luis Bunuel Blog-a-thon hosted by Flickhead. Although I have been displaying its banner and took in viewings of Un Chien Andalou and L'Age Dor just for the occasion, I will not be writing anything for it. As I mentioned in a comment over at Flickhead recently, as a critic, I'm a narrative analyst. I loved Bunuel's early Surrealist collaborations with Salvador Dali, I just don't have anything to say about them. Too bad I didn't choose to re-watch The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, That Obscure Object of Desire, or one of my other favorites that have been enchanting me and boggling my mind over the years. Ah, well...

One thing before I go: I highly recommend the docs included on the Un Chien Andalou DVD. Bunuel's son gives a long and illuminating interview about Bunuel's relationship with Dali, how it started and where it went wrong. He sometimes refers to Dali as "the mustache," which never fails to tickle me.

Above: Dali's portrait of Bunuel, painted in 1924 while at Academy.

Polish Film Poster of the Week (9/24-9/31)


This week: Young Frankenstein (1978); artist: Jerzy Flisak.

Ed's Thoughts: There are no words that can describe my affection for this insane piece of poster art. I love the way the one 'human' eye betrays the true emotion behind the forced smile. I want to get a tattoo of this one!

(P.S.: To all the trainspotters out there, the year listed for the Polish Poster of the Week is always the year the poster was designed, not the year of the film's original theatrical release, as is standard elsewhere on Shoot the Projectionist. As always, I salute your attention to detail.)

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Wes Anderson, elsewhere

DVD Panache posted a brilliant essay on Sept. 11 pointing out a fair amount of those background details that make Wes Anderson famous in The Royal Tenenbaums. Everyone should check it out.
dvdpanache.blogspot.com
(I couldn't get the link to actual article to work to save my life, so you'll just have to scroll down a bit to find it. Sorry!)

UPDATE later in the day: You can now find a direct link to the DVD Panache article in the comments to the 31 Greatest Horror Films post just below this one.

Also, The House Next Door has posted links to several interesting Wes-related items lately, including the first insightful review of THE DARJEELING LIMITED I've read thus far.

And here's your Daily Dose of DARJEELING:


Image courtesy of RushmoreAcademy.com

31 GREATEST HORROR FILMS: Survey Announcement

With Shocktober! approaching, thoughts turn to our beloved scary movies. Shoot the Projectionist will be hosting several special features throughout the scariest month of the year. Every day will see a profile on a different Ghoul, Ghost, Killer or Fiend of the Day, and, more importantly:

I hereby announce the 31 Greatest Horror Films , a survey to be compiled throughout Shocktober! and published on Halloween. I am inviting, inducing—hell, just plain cajoling—you to submit a list of the 31 Greatest Horror Films according to you. Whether that means your 31 favorite scary movies or the 31 films you feel are the most influential or original, well… that’s sort of up to you. I suppose when I do my list I’ll include the 31 horror films that I feel are the most worthy for discussion, because that’s usually the defining factor of whether I care about a film or not. And, of course, the entire reason I’m picking the number 31 instead of some other arbitrary number like 25, 50 or 100 is that there are 31 days in Shocktober!, so if you would like to think of your list as the perfect month-long horror movie marathon, I encourage you to do so. Think of it however you must, as long as you submit a list!

I was inspired to do this by Edward Copeland’s recent The Satyajit Ray Memorial Anything-But-Definitive List of Non-English Language Films, and in keeping with his methods there, I will compile a list of nominees from the original submissions which I’ll then ask everyone to vote on for the conclusive list.

Along with your list, if you would like to include a sentence or two about why you are including a film, please do so. Also, please don’t vote for a series: only votes for individual films will be counted. As for the definition of what makes a horror film, it’s entirely open to your own interpretation. Perhaps you think it’s a sense of creeping dread established by the tone. As far as I’m concerned, slashers, giallo, horror comedies/parodies, and any movie with a ghost, ghoul, zombie, vampire, or werewolf fit the bill. Even saying all that, I’m sure my own list will include a few left-field choices.

Let us come together and decide on the 31 Greatest Horror Films! To submit, just send me an e-mail at EdHardyJr@gmail.com. The list will be published on Halloween. The voting is now open. Other important dates to be announced.


Saturday, September 22, 2007

SENTIMENTAL SATIRE: DICILLO'S "DELIRIOUS"


Near the middle of Tom DiCillo’s new film Delirious (which unfortunately has the same name as both one of Eddie Murphy’s two brilliant stand-up films and a forgotten John Candy movie that I happen to love) the young lead played by Michael Pitt, Toby, leaves the hotel room of the Britney/Lindsay/Hillary analog he has a crush on. He’s just spent a wonderful, intimate night with a girl who was previously only an image on billboards that he lusted after. The film gives us one brilliant, original moment representative of Toby’s joy, and then follows it up with another, totally clichéd one.

Toby, so bursting with love after this amazing night, hugs the doorman of the building, not even thinking about it, just grabbing him and giving him a good squeeze. And the doorman hugs back. It’s one of those movie moments that is epiphanic because of its total simplicity. Then, as he walks away from the fancy hotel, music swells on the soundtrack, he starts swinging around poles to express his happiness, and rose petals fall from the sky. I didn’t know whether to laugh with or at the movie when those rose petals started falling and covering Toby. It was an evocation of an image that was so stereotypical, it could only have been done in mocking… right?

Delirious continues to boggle throughout with its sentimental satire. The opening sequence with Toby eating out of garbage cans shot in a lovingly soft-lensed style verges on romanticizing homelessness. Later, Toby has become the star of a show that is both a reality show and a murder drama (where he plays both himself and not himself), and we are presented with an even more idealized version of homeless life and a cute girl telling Toby that he has taught her how being homeless can be beautiful, too. This is clearly satire. Was the opening sequence meant as satire, too? Or were we supposed to feel for Toby as he spit out the mystery liquid from a scavenged McDonald’s cup?

DiCillo introduces lowest-of-the-low paparazzo Les (Steve Buscemi), then both actor and director do their best to humanize the character, seemingly running against the grain of the script (which DiCillo also wrote) which continually shows Les to be a jerk, a liar, a sore loser, a bad friend, etc. The treatment of Alison Lohman’s character K’Harma is the one that sticks most closely to the spirit of satire. From her name to the black void that is her personality to her habit of writing songs and conducting business meetings in her bra, K’Harma is a near pitch perfect parody of a teen pop star. Her cutesy nickname for Toby is “homeless”—which is hilarious, spot-on and a little queasy all at once. But, Delirious always pulls its punches, never having the venom that true satire operates on. The back-and-forth switches between murdererous rage, restored friendship and disillusionment that Les goes through at the end of the film (however beautiful certain of these moments are) illustrates my point with no commentary neccasary.

There is some brilliance in this film. It is isn't quite Sweet Smell of Success, but the Hollywood food chain is well-represented by the various assistants, paparazzi and casting directors (hilariously played by Kevin Corrigan, David Wain, Callie Thorn and Kristen Schaal, among others.) Toby’s decision to strike out in the world and make something of himself instead of being Les’s unpaid assistant is portrayed with a perfect and perfectly simple visual metaphor. The virtual break-up scene between Toby and Les is played out with impeccable interplay between blocking and camera. And of interest is the way Toby takes the clichés that Les spouts off at random and repeats them, somehow imbuing them with profundity in the mimicking. But, ultimately, the film fails because it’s too soft-hearted to be the satire it obviously wanted to be. It wants us to sympathize with its characters. How can I take delight in the razzing of Hollywood represented by Toby’s ridiculously quick ascension to the heights of tabloid popularity when the film has been so adamant about his likeability and basic decency that I’m happy for the poor innocent simpleton’s success?


Friday, September 21, 2007

THOUGHTS ON GENDER IN "SINGIN' IN THE RAIN"

(You can subtitle this one, "Reusing a School Paper for My Blog #1.")


Throughout Singin’ in the Rain Gene Kelly’s character Don Lockwood rejects the image of available, mature sexuality, represented by Jean Hagen’s Lina Lamont. Furthermore, that kind of open ‘sexiness’ on the part of a woman is continually connected with a materialistic, money-hungry attitude. In the somewhat climactic “Gotta Dance” sequence, there is another ‘sexy’ woman (Cyd Charisse)—this one Kelly does go after. But, though she seems to be attracted to him and wants to continue dancing with him, she goes with the villain dangling a jeweled necklace in front of her. Aggressive sexuality on the part of a woman is very obviously associated with materialism.

Don passes over the glamorous—not to mention ambitious and gold-digging—Lina Lamont for the chaste, smart and tomboyish Kathy Selden, played by Debbie Reynolds. But before Kathy comes in the picture, Don is already ignoring Lina in favor of chumming around with his pal Cosmo (Donald O’Connor). The opening “dignity, always dignity” origin story for Don includes Cosmo in every scene. They’re presented as closer than friends: a double-act, a package deal. The “Fit as a Fiddle (and Ready for Love)” song-and-dance routine—with Don and Cosmo moving in unison, climbing onto each other’s backs and playing each other’s violins—hammers home the point early and often.


Kathy is apparently not only enough of a tomboy for Don to pay attention to her—she’s masculine identified from the first time we see her, driving her own car and wearing a short haircut—she’s self-sacrificing and willing enough to be in the background for him to keep paying attention to her. The film doesn’t only contrast Kathy and Lina in the realm of sexuality. It says that not only is Lina ‘sexy’ and Kathy merely ‘cute,’ and thus non-threatening, but Lina wants the spotlight and Kathy is willing to concede it, and Lina is evil and Kathy is good. No case, therefore, can be made that Don chooses Kathy over Lina because he merely finds her more attractive or more appealing. Kathy is the perfect woman as far as Don is concerned because she is non-threateningly attractive (looking cute and strikingly like a baby duck in the scene where she pops out of the cake and Don falls for her), and good, and willing to do whatever it takes to make Don’s career succeed, no matter how much she has to take the backseat for it to happen. Oh, and she’ll even hang out and pal around with your buddies, as evidenced by the “Good Morning” routine with Don, Cosmo and Kathy all clowning around together (Cosmo notably ending up with Kathy’s hat on—and Kathy wearing his.)

One final complaint: despite all the faults I have enumerated above, Kathy is introduced as being smart, opinionated and sarcastic—all good qualities from where I’m coming from. When Don drops into her car, she doesn’t even know who he is, despite the fact that he’s the biggest star in the world, and this is Hollywood. She tells him she wants to be on the stage saying of movie actors, “They don’t talk, they don’t act, they just make a lot of dumb show.” In short, she’s a radical, independent thinker. Then, the movie totally sells her out when her romance with Don begins. She even admits to buying “five or six” star magazines a week!

Question: is Kathy the precursor to the teen comedy roles played by Annette Funicello, Jennifer Love Hewitt, Hilary Duff and countless others over the years?

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Monday, September 17, 2007

Polish Film Poster of the Week (9/17-9/23)

This week: Stranger Than Paradise (1991); artist: Andrzej Klimowski

Ed's Thoughts: This is one of the weirder Polish posters I've come across, and I think the reason why it strikes me as so odd is that it sneaks up on you. Many of the other posters from the time period are much more openly disturbing. This features none of the nudity, screaming faces or distorted anatomy that are characteristic of much of the Polish poster art I've seen. It does, however, maintain the trope of obscured faces, but in a more understated way than is often done. This image is rich with expressionist symbolism and brilliant minor abstract touches like the fact that the figure on the far left appears to be a shadow, but is situated between the radiator and the wall.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

Monad's Moments of Mention


So says Monad, Shoot the Projectionist's Opinion-at-Large:

It’s a treacherous thing to single out just a few noteworthy moments from a film. Especially a film by a filmmaker such as Wes Anderson who makes every scene count. However, that’s exactly what I’m going to do today with The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.


Wes is the kind of filmmaker who maximizes the amount of story he is able to pack into a single frame. He constantly elaborates on the fine points of his story with set pieces and background characters. Later on in the film when Ned is demanding that he and Steve take the “whirlybird” up to look for the Jaguar shark, Klaus is lingering in the background, watching the scene from afar. When Ned puts his hand out for Steve to do the ‘go team!’, when Steve puts his hand on top of Ned’s, Klaus does the same from down the hallway, adding in his ‘go team,’ unbeknownst to Ned and Steve. I find this to be a beautiful and subtle addition to Klaus’ story arc of longing for inclusion.


The next moment I want to mention is “Day 27: Rescuing the Bond Company Stooge.” The whole Ping Island: Lightning Strike Op is brilliant, but what I’m particularly interested in pointing out is the way the score is used to add another dimension to the perspective of the story we are watching unfold. Ultimately we are watching Part Two of the film Steve is making, but we are also watching Part Two of Steve’s actual life. When Steve falls down the stairs he says, “Vikram, did you get that? Good. We’ll give them the reality this time.”



The idea that we are watching the movie that Steve and the crew of the Belafonte are making is most notably exemplified in the scene when he and Wolodarsky go over some footage. Steve asks to hear track three of the soundtrack Wolodarsky made on the keyboards he displays so proudly throughout the scene. Steve says it’s pretty good. “We’ll temp it with that anyway.” And this is exactly what they do. As the Ping Island strike gets underway, the simple bleeps and bloops of the synthesizer morph into a full-on orchestra.

Finally—in a brief fit of fanboydom—I would like to point out the moment when Stevesie pulls out his Glock and starts firing wildly before charging into a hail of bullets and a roomful of pirates. Kick Ass.


The Royal Tenenbaums go under the microscope next on Monad’s Moments of Mention. I don’t know Butchie, instead.



Ed says: I decided to throw my hat in with a list of choice moments as well. I offer the following sans commentary.

--The lights go out on the Belafonte for the first time that we have seen. Steve leans back and says to Eleanor, playing solitaire, “you can play the black jack on the red queen.”

--Steve takes Ned to the Explorers Club. The waiter approaches with the wine and Steve says, “Pour it over here please, he doesn’t know anything about wine.”

--Steve arrives on his island with Ned. Eleanor informs him that his cat is dead. He asks how it happened and she says, while lighting a clove cigarette, “A rattlesnake bit it in the throat.”

--Jane, talking on the voicemail to her editor and former lover, says, “Listen, I’m not leaving this message.”

--Jane rushes in and asks if they’ve found the shark. Steve says, “You bet your ass we have!” and puts his hand out for her to slap it. Jane reaches out and gives him the most timid of fives.

--After the pirates have gone, Steve yells after them, “You left your dog, you idiots!”

--Ned waves to Jane as he is getting into the helicopter. Bill, the bond company stooge, and Captain Hennessey, both think he is waving at them, and all three of them wave back, happy and oblivious.

(Note: I couldn’t really find any screenshots illustrating these moments, so I offer instead a bunch of moments not mentioned by either of us.)

Saturday, September 15, 2007

24 WORDS PER FILM (#10)



Zombie’s first act presents a scarier—because realer—Mikey Meyers: slasher gone feral Columbine kid. Upon his adulthood, though, Halloween loses all its charisma.


Daily Dose of DARJEELING


Image courtesy of RushmoreAcademy.com

Tomorrow: the first entry in Monad's Moments of Mention, this one on The Life Aquatic. Throughout the rest of Wes Anderson Month, Shoot the Projectionist's own Opinion-at-Large, Monad himself, will be giving you the low-down on his favorite scenes in Mr. Anderson's oeuvre.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

24 WORDS PER FILM (#9)



They’re making old-fashioned Amerindie movies again. My heart is warmed! But I might be annoyed by Mutual Appreciation if I wasn’t on the screen.


Tuesday, September 11, 2007

24 WORDS PER FILM (#8)



The Astronaut Farmer asks us to side with a man who can’t see that his obsessive commitment to his dreams is oppressing his family.


Daily Dose of DARJEELING

Those of you keeping a keen eye on Wes Anderson Month here at Shoot the Projectionist have probably noticed that the "Daily Dose of Darjeeling" feature has not actually been daily. This post does nothing to address that issue. In fact, it doesn't even feature a still from The Darjeeling Limited. However, it does feature Wes Anderson selling you American Express, which I never fail to enjoy, though I don't have very good credit.

Also, a blog called The Playlist has been running an interesting feature detailing the music of Wes Anderson films that are not found on the CD soundtrack releases.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Polish Film Poster of the Week (9/10-9/16)


This week: Kramer vs. Kramer (1983); artist: Lezsek Drzewinski

Ed's 2-Second Analysis: The brave choice to leave both Hoffman and Streep out of the imagery does a lot to say where the true battleground of divorce is: the psyche of the children involved. Showing the child ripped apart--especially into building blocks, an image fraught with childhood memories for many people--is an enormously affective illustration of this principle.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

UNDERCLASS OVERACHIEVER/WEARY FORMER SUCCESS: Character Types in the Films of Wes Anderson


The two lead characters in Wes Anderson’s first film, Bottle Rocket (1996), Anthony and Dignan, established two main character types that have been articulated through the remainder of his films. Dignan, played by Owen Wilson, represents the Underclass Overachiever, and Anthony, played by his brother Luke Wilson, represents the Weary Former Success. Depth of character and variety of experience has made for a stunning series of characters throughout Anderons's films, culminating in Steve Zissou, who is a synthesis of the two main types and is, in many ways, presaged by Royal Tenenbaum.

Neither character type was fully fleshed out in the debut work. Dignan certainly fit the Underclass half of the bill. The film makes a point of highlighting the way that Dignan operates within an upperclass community without being of it. As Bob’s older brother Futureman likes to mention, he used to mow the Mapplethorpe’s lawn, and Mr. Henry’s chief interest in Dignan is that he knows Bob, “the rich kid.” Additionally, he’s the only one in “the gang” who doesn’t have a trust fund to fall back on. Anthony isn’t as rich as Bob, but he can afford to spend the summer in a hospital for “exhaustion,” and his little sister goes to a private school. Dignan says the practice heist has to be at Anthony’s house because, “You know there’s nothing to steal from my mom and Craig,” alluding to a stepfather and a whole potential world of unexplored problems.

So Dignan is certainly Underclass, but he falls just short of being the Overachiever. That is, in fact, a major defining characteristic of his personality: he’s a big dreamer but often a failure. The type—with the Overachieving and the failure both on high volume—was pretty much personified as Max Fischer, played by Jason Schwartzman, in Rushmore (1999) (although one could certainly argue that Dignan and Max are equals in the success/failure categories.) Similarly, Anthony is Weary, but he doesn’t have much Former Success to give weight to his character. One line of thinking goes that what made the characters in Bottle Rocket interesting was their status as twenty-somethings with nothing really going on in their lives that would justify how seriously they are taking themselves. When the later films flesh out these two character types, giving several variations on backstory to lend credence to the character’s behavior, it has been said by some, the characters conversely got less interesting. I’m not that big of a fan of the style of academic writing that sets up an argument the author doesn’t agree with just so he can refute it. However, it would appear that is precisely what I have just done.

Rushmore pushed forward not just the Underclass Overachiever type in Max, but also the Weary Former Success type, with Bill Murray’s Mr. Blume. Unlike his predecessor Anthony, Blume has plenty to be weary from. He has a successful business, has worked hard to make a way for himself in the world. Blume is coded as underclass too, from the first time we see him, giving a speech about how the scholarship kids should “take dead aim on the rich boys.” That look of dawning recognition on Blume’s face when he meets Max’s father and realizes he’s the son of a barber, not a brain doctor, is not only ‘of course he’s poor,’ but ‘I knew I recognized myself in this kid.’ Blume is a success, but he’s tired and he takes no pleasure in it. Also, his wife is sleeping around on him—although he is much less the cuckold than Murray’s Raleigh St. Clair in The Royal Tenenbaums (2001), another man who is exasperated by the family he’s made for himself and no longer taking joy in his work.

In my essay last week, WES ANDERSON, NOSTALGIA AND THE 11 YEAR OLD POINT OF VIEW, I wrote about how Chas Tenenbaum is similar to Max Fischer. They are both prodigies, and both incredibly driven as children—but Chas has the means and is successful. Chas is also like Max in that his whole life is in the shadow of a death. In Chas’s case, it is his wife, and in Max’s it's his mother. Another character in Rushmore, Miss Cross, is similarly afflicted by the loss of a spouse. The Royal Tenenbaums pushes forward the Underclass Overachiever in the form of Eli Cash: Luke Wilson playing a Dignan who grew up across the street from the family of geniuses and “always wanted to be a Tenenbaum.” When Royal responds to Eli’s yearning, “Me too,” he is identifying himself as underclass as well; Royal is another self-made businessman. I’ll return to this moment just a bit later and discuss a different significance of Royal’s line.

While the Underclass Overachiever lineage is continued through Eli Cash, The Royal Tenenbaums is much more interested in pursuing the Weary Former Success. Richie and Margot Tenenbaum are both pretty much in the same boat: they peaked extremely early, nose-dived careerwise, and feel they are shells of their former selves. Luke Wilson’s performance as Richie feels much like a stylized version of his role in Bottle Rocket, as does Owen Wilson’s. Interestingly, not only does The Royal Tenenbaums present an alternative version of Max with Chas and double the Anthony/Mr. Blume type with Margot and Richie, but it also offers a first attempt at combining both of the types into one character.

In a lot of ways what The Royal Tenenbaums is about is the feeling of wanting to be a Tenenbaum. That’s why Eli Cash is an important figure in the film. He’s the outside point of view that says yes, the Tenenbaums were a brilliant family, that’s not just in their own minds. Eli says it out loud in that scene I mentioned above: “I always wanted to be a Tenenbaum,” he says, and Royal says, “Me too.” By identifying with Eli Cash in that moment—whom he had earlier called a “bloodsucker” and an “asshole”—he’s not only reminding us of his underclass background, but he’s aligning himself with that other character type, too, the one that this film can’t seem to get away from, the Weary Former Success.

At the beginning of the film, Royal has lost his career, he’s broke, he’s being kicked out of his hotel— they’re even taking his encyclopedias. He wants, more than anything else—just as Richie and Margot do—to return to that time when they were a family, when they were the Royal Tenenbaums, even if it never really existed the way they remember it. Royal is the underclass, and underhanded, huckster, just as Dignan and Max are. Royal’s pretending to die, props included, is just one step up from Max’s staged bicycle accident outside Miss Cross’s house. And Steve Zissou is like a Royal who believes his own bullshit. It’s as if he lives forever in that moment outside the house when Royal is telling Richie that his brush with death has made him embrace life. Richie says, “But Dad, you were never dying,” and Royal responds, “But I’m gonna live!”

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004) presents, as its title character, a man who is an even more perfect synthesis of the two character types running through Anderson’s films. (He is furthermore a continuation of Royal’s character in another way: he ran out on his children and obligatons, and now wants back something he gave up.) Steve is like what Dignan would be if he became an artist—or if Max decided to start making documentaries instead of plays—and then pissed it away by being that same asshole, prone to perceived failure of self and massive amounts of regret. Steve is the perpetual dreamer, and failure. In fact, after the screening of his movie, who is told the same thing that Max is after a performance of one of his plays: “Well, I just don’t think they got it.” The vision of a Steve, a Max or a Dignan is always much grander than what they can actually achieve. But what more could you ask of a dreamer than to dream so big no one could achieve it?

The thing is though, the reason why The Life Aquatic is such a beautiful culmination of what may turn out to be the first grand phase of Anderson’s career—Steve succeeds. He finds what he was looking for and he wins the award and learns to live with all of the pain and regret of life and remember that “This is an adventure.” He is the Underclass Overachiever who achieves the grandest success. (Dignan at the end of Bottle Rocket, even while in handcuffs and a prison jumpsuit says, “We did it,” and Max learns to grow up, quit fixating on a mother-figure replacement and be happy with the girl his own age, Eli Cash decides to stop doing drugs and being in love with Margot—so all of them get success in their own ways, but I believe Steve’s to be the most spectacular.) And not only is he the Underclass Overachiever who has the greatest success, but he is the Weary Former Success who is able to push through and win big again. Richie picks up the racket again, but only to teach. Margot starts writing again, but no one pays attention. Steve, though, finds the shark that ate his best friend and forgives it. And then he finishes his film.