list http://www.spout.com/ Recent community activity around Crimes and Misdemeanors on Spout Copyright 2005-9 Spout, LLC Spout RSS http://www.spout.com/images/SpoutLogoRSS.jpg http://www.spout.com/ 136 30 http://www.spout.com/films/Crimes_and_Misdemeanors/7455/default.aspx Title: Crimes and Misdemeanors
Year: 1989
Director: Woody Allen
Plot: Woody Allen spent most of the 1980s and '90s veering between comedy and drama, and he rarely combined the two with greater success than in Crimes and Misdemeanors, in which he weaved together two stories, one deadly serious, one often funny, both ending in sadness. Martin Landau plays Dr. Judah Rosenthal, a prominent ophthalmologist with a successful practice, a loving family, and a reputation for generous charity work. But Rosenthal also has a secret: his mistress, Dolores (Anjelica Huston). What began as a casual fling has become uncomfortably intimate, and as he tries to break off the relationship, Dolores threatens to expose his infidelity to his wife and some unorthodox financial arrangements to his colleagues. Fearful that Dolores will make good on her threats, Judah confesses his secret to his brother Jack (Jerry Orbach), who has ties to organized crime and offers to "make the problem go away." Meanwhile, Cliff Stern (Woody Allen) is a filmmaker working on his pet project, a documentary about philosopher Prof. Louis Levy (Martin Bergmann). However, films about philosophers don't pay the rent, so Cliff's wife Wendy (Joanna Gleason) arranges for him to make a documentary for public television about her brother Lester (Alan Alda), a famous TV comedian whose vapidity is exceeded only by his arrogance. While Cliff tries to bite the bullet and finish the film, he finds himself falling in love with PBS producer Halley Reed (Mia Farrow). ~ Mark Deming, All Movie Guide
Times Tagged: 7
Number of Lists: 25
Number of blog posts: 4
SpoutRating: 3
]]>Mon, 06 Jul 2009 05:38:44 GMTCrimes and Misdemeanors1989Woody AllenWoody Allen spent most of the 1980s and '90s veering between comedy and drama, and he rarely combined the two with greater success than in Crimes and Misdemeanors, in which he weaved together two stories, one deadly serious, one often funny, both ending in sadness. <a href="/players/P____40247/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Martin Landau</a> plays Dr. Judah Rosenthal, a prominent ophthalmologist with a successful practice, a loving family, and a reputation for generous charity work. But Rosenthal also has a secret: his mistress, Dolores (<a href="/players/P____34131/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Anjelica Huston</a>). What began as a casual fling has become uncomfortably intimate, and as he tries to break off the relationship, Dolores threatens to expose his infidelity to his wife and some unorthodox financial arrangements to his colleagues. Fearful that Dolores will make good on her threats, Judah confesses his secret to his brother Jack (<a href="/players/P____54172/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Jerry Orbach</a>), who has ties to organized crime and offers to "make the problem go away." Meanwhile, Cliff Stern (<a href="/players/P____79388/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Woody Allen</a>) is a filmmaker working on his pet project, a documentary about philosopher Prof. Louis Levy (Martin Bergmann). However, films about philosophers don't pay the rent, so Cliff's wife Wendy (<a href="/players/P____27206/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Joanna Gleason</a>) arranges for him to make a documentary for public television about her brother Lester (<a href="/players/P____79264/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Alan Alda</a>), a famous TV comedian whose vapidity is exceeded only by his arrogance. While Cliff tries to bite the bullet and finish the film, he finds himself falling in love with PBS producer Halley Reed (<a href="/players/P____22809/default.aspx" style='text-decoration:underline'>Mia Farrow</a>). ~ Mark Deming, All Movie Guide7Taggedy Taggged (6-10)2543http://www.spout.com/ProductImages/t11440qrcn4.jpghttp://www.spout.com/films/Crimes_and_Misdemeanors/7455/default.aspxFilm http://www.spout.com/blogs/indieabby88/archive/2009/1/13/39492.aspx Post By: indieabby88
Post To: Bloggish review blog
Post Date: 1/13/2009 7:21:42 PM
Body: I find movies about secrets to be terribly interesting. Affairs, murders, accidents, humiliations and the lengths people will go to hide them generally make for pretty compelling stuff. "Three Monkeys," the Turkish entry for the best foreign language film Oscar, is one such movie, and (I think) probably a pretty strong contender. I'm assuming the title has to do with the proverb "see no evil, hear no evil, do no evil," since the family at the center of this movie has plenty of issues that they deal with by not talking about them. Things start off when a Servet, a campaigning politician, is involved in a hit-and-run accident. Not wanting to tarnish his reputation right before the election, Servet has his driver, Eyüp, take the fall for him in exchange for a sum of money to be given to his family. In the meantime, Eyüp's wife, Hacer, has an affair with Servet, only to have it abruptly cut off when her ne'er-do-well son discovers them. Oh, and the family is also haunted by the ghost of their dead son...there's a lot of tension going on. Probably the best thing "Three Monkeys" has going for it is its subtlety. The film's style is very subdued, and we only see characters behaving in extreme ways when the situation absolutely calls for it. The performances are all very natural, never over-the-top. We can identify with all of the characters (except, perhaps, Servet, who's pretty much a scuzzbag). The movie is also very solid visually. It looks like it was shot on DV, which gives it a gritty, but also intimate feeling. The camera is unsparing in its portrayal of the characters. We see every flaw, every stray hair, wrinkle and stress line, all of which goes into making a better, more detailed vision of who these people are, and the effects their years of supressed emotions have had on them. I am very, very glad I got to see "Three Monkeys." It's a well-worked, intense movie that nobody has talked about, but that everyone should be. This movie has all of the intrigue of a Hichcock film (atmospherically speaking, it feels like "Strangers on a Train," but more subdued) but most of the action happens behind closed doors. It's a really intriguing approach to a premise that could easily have been made into a preachy, hysterical melodrama. Related movies to watch: "Rachel Getting Married": Some of the drama, but with the added plus of joy and redemption. "Strangers on a Train": Intrigue with more thrills "Crimes and Misdemeanors": Affairs and examinations of the people that have them.
]]>Wed, 14 Jan 2009 00:21:42 GMTindieabby88Bloggish review blog1/13/2009 7:21:42 PMI find movies about secrets to be terribly interesting. Affairs, murders, accidents, humiliations and the lengths people will go to hide them generally make for pretty compelling stuff. "Three Monkeys," the Turkish entry for the best foreign language film Oscar, is one such movie, and (I think) probably a pretty strong contender. I'm assuming the title has to do with the proverb "see no evil, hear no evil, do no evil," since the family at the center of this movie has plenty of issues that they deal with by not talking about them. Things start off when a Servet, a campaigning politician, is involved in a hit-and-run accident. Not wanting to tarnish his reputation right before the election, Servet has his driver, Ey&uuml;p, take the fall for him in exchange for a sum of money to be given to his family. In the meantime, Ey&uuml;p's wife, Hacer, has an affair with Servet, only to have it abruptly cut off when her ne'er-do-well son discovers them. Oh, and the family is also haunted by the ghost of their dead son...there's a lot of tension going on. Probably the best thing "Three Monkeys" has going for it is its subtlety. The film's style is very subdued, and we only see characters behaving in extreme ways when the situation absolutely calls for it. The performances are all very natural, never over-the-top. We can identify with all of the characters (except, perhaps, Servet, who's pretty much a scuzzbag). The movie is also very solid visually. It looks like it was shot on DV, which gives it a gritty, but also intimate feeling. The camera is unsparing in its portrayal of the characters. We see every flaw, every stray hair, wrinkle and stress line, all of which goes into making a better, more detailed vision of who these people are, and the effects their years of supressed emotions have had on them. I am very, very glad I got to see "Three Monkeys." It's a well-worked, intense movie that nobody has talked about, but that everyone should be. This movie has all of the intrigue of a Hichcock film (atmospherically speaking, it feels like "Strangers on a Train," but more subdued) but most of the action happens behind closed doors. It's a really intriguing approach to a premise that could easily have been made into a preachy, hysterical melodrama. Related movies to watch: "Rachel Getting Married": Some of the drama, but with the added plus of joy and redemption. "Strangers on a Train": Intrigue with more thrills "Crimes and Misdemeanors": Affairs and examinations of the people that have them. http://www.spout.com/blogs/cinemarian/archive/2008/5/13/28993.aspx Post By: CinemaRian
Post To: CinemaRian Blog
Post Date: 5/13/2008 8:05:34 PM
Body: Crimes and Misdemeanors is often considered one of Woody Allens masterpieces. Though I dont think its quiet in the league of Annie Hall or Hannah and Her Sisters, this is a good movie (for the record, I saw it for the first time back in middle school, but thought I should take a look at it again). The film is essentially a better written (and less plagiarized) precursor to Match Point. The main story revolves around Judah Rosenberg (Martin Landau), a wealthy, and seemingly happily married optometrist. In reality, Judah has been fooling around with Dolores (Angelica Huston), who is emotionally unstable and is getting more and more frustrated with Judahs refusal to leave his wife, and is threatening to reveal some shady business deals. The doctor finds himself considering the unthinkable- murdering Dolores to save himself and his respectable position. In a secondary but parallel story, Allen plays Clifford, a documentary filmmaker who for money makes a film about, Lester, his brother-in-law (Alan Alda), an extremely successful TV producer. While making the film, Allen begins a relationship with his producer (Mia Farrlow). Spoilers ahead. This was Allens most philosophical work up until that time, and deals with an idea that a lot of directors (Kubrick and Polanski come to mind) have grappled with- that in a postmodern world, good is not rewarded and evil is not punished. Judah, raised as a devout Jew but in adulthood an athiest, finds that he is strangley comfortable with the idea of himself as a murderer, once he realizes that no great punishment will come to him, and that he can live without guilt, everything will be OK - for him, anyway. One of the real strengths of the movie is that this one of the few films to deal seriously with Jewish theology, the vast majority of philosophical films deal with either Christian, New Age, or atheistic ideas. I also really like the constant metaphor of seeing, particularly in the ambiguous final shot involving the blind rabbi (Sam Waterston). Is Allen saying that the rabbi (who believes in absolute truth) is happy because he cannot see the reality of the world, or is blindness used as a disabilty, that he is happy despite the tragic loss of his vision, where Judah could never be happy with the loss of his wife and career? Where the movie fails is in the secondary plot. I think that Allen may be trying to set up the idea that Clifford is good and doesnt get what he wants (a relationship with Hailey, the producer), but to me, Haileys choice of Lester over Clifford is more a bad judgment call than an unethical decision. Part of the problem is that Lester doesnt really come of as that much of a jerk (Alan Alda is too likable), so we never really share Cliffords loathing of him. Allens humor in this segment is not funny, and it contrasts a little too heavily with the ultra-serious Judah story. Still, this a good, serious film that surely must be a good conversation starter. This is the kind of film you want to talk about after you see it, and that may be the biggest compliment I can give it. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989)
]]>Wed, 14 May 2008 00:05:34 GMTCinemaRianCinemaRian Blog5/13/2008 8:05:34 PMCrimes and Misdemeanors is often considered one of Woody Allens masterpieces. Though I dont think its quiet in the league of Annie Hall or Hannah and Her Sisters, this is a good movie (for the record, I saw it for the first time back in middle school, but thought I should take a look at it again). The film is essentially a better written (and less plagiarized) precursor to Match Point. The main story revolves around Judah Rosenberg (Martin Landau), a wealthy, and seemingly happily married optometrist. In reality, Judah has been fooling around with Dolores (Angelica Huston), who is emotionally unstable and is getting more and more frustrated with Judahs refusal to leave his wife, and is threatening to reveal some shady business deals. The doctor finds himself considering the unthinkable- murdering Dolores to save himself and his respectable position. In a secondary but parallel story, Allen plays Clifford, a documentary filmmaker who for money makes a film about, Lester, his brother-in-law (Alan Alda), an extremely successful TV producer. While making the film, Allen begins a relationship with his producer (Mia Farrlow). Spoilers ahead. This was Allens most philosophical work up until that time, and deals with an idea that a lot of directors (Kubrick and Polanski come to mind) have grappled with- that in a postmodern world, good is not rewarded and evil is not punished. Judah, raised as a devout Jew but in adulthood an athiest, finds that he is strangley comfortable with the idea of himself as a murderer, once he realizes that no great punishment will come to him, and that he can live without guilt, everything will be OK - for him, anyway. One of the real strengths of the movie is that this one of the few films to deal seriously with Jewish theology, the vast majority of philosophical films deal with either Christian, New Age, or atheistic ideas. I also really like the constant metaphor of seeing, particularly in the ambiguous final shot involving the blind rabbi (Sam Waterston). Is Allen saying that the rabbi (who believes in absolute truth) is happy because he cannot see the reality of the world, or is blindness used as a disabilty, that he is happy despite the tragic loss of his vision, where Judah could never be happy with the loss of his wife and career? Where the movie fails is in the secondary plot. I think that Allen may be trying to set up the idea that Clifford is good and doesnt get what he wants (a relationship with Hailey, the producer), but to me, Haileys choice of Lester over Clifford is more a bad judgment call than an unethical decision. Part of the problem is that Lester doesnt really come of as that much of a jerk (Alan Alda is too likable), so we never really share Cliffords loathing of him. Allens humor in this segment is not funny, and it contrasts a little too heavily with the ultra-serious Judah story. Still, this a good, serious film that surely must be a good conversation starter. This is the kind of film you want to talk about after you see it, and that may be the biggest compliment I can give it. Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989) http://www.spout.com/blogs/hairylime/archive/2007/5/10/8500.aspx Post By: HairyLime
Post To: HairyLime Blog
Post Date: 5/10/2007 9:10:00 AM
Body: I noticed the other day that our 'on demand' cable movies have a number of old Woody Allen flicks listed this month, and I revisited this one the other evening. I was once a big fan of his films, and a lot of my friends use the excuse of his messy personal improprieties to explain his films falling out of their favor in recent years, or the fact that he has a bad habit of pairing himself with younger and younger leading ladies leaving a bad taste in their mouth.My falling away has more to do with his insular vision, the way he sets his stories in the same comfortable environs of priviledge and class, and the few times he ventures outside of it, the tone comes across as condescending, or as if he's 'slumming'. You may say that he makes films about 'what he knows', and that's fair I suppose, and you gotta applaud the guy for regularly churning out halfway decent material without spending a gazillion dollars a picture, and still attracting talented actors to work with him picture after picture.I saw this one only once many years ago in the theater, and I remember it quite vividly, because it was the night before my son's birth. Two interweaving storylines, of which the Martin Landau one is definitely the more interesting, because it seems to step outside that usual 'Woody Allen Comfort Zone', and could be one of the only movies in which a cold blooded murder, where the body and blood is displayed and lingered over.(I know, there were murders in 'Manhatten Murder Mystery', and 'Radio Days', etc, and his jokes frequently drop names like Leopold and Loeb, or Charlie Starkweather etc - but even with the serious undertones they were mainly played for laughs - ) Martin Landau gives a terrific performance as a man wracked by guilt, but ultimately having to live with the punishment of his own culpability rather than the tidy retribution of the authorities. The Woody Allen storyline concerning his shallow but successful brother-in-law and an extramarital unrequited romance with his producer (Mia Farrow of course) is much less interesting, but even so, manages a suitable payoff at the wedding scene. The movie tries for some heavy philosophizing while it wrestles with moral dillemas, regarding some subplots about an elderly life affirming jewish philospher who is the subject of Allen's struggling documentary and some heavy handed but effective symbolism regarding the blind Rabbi (Sam Waterston, another Allen regular) dancing with his daughter at his wedding to "I'll be Seeing You". Overall, not a laugh riot like many of his films, but there are some laugh out loud moments (Woody's reaction to his sister's 'dating experience' is one memorable example), and plenty of gristle on the philosophical bone to chew on long after the movie's done.
]]>Thu, 10 May 2007 13:10:00 GMTHairyLimeHairyLime Blog5/10/2007 9:10:00 AMI noticed the other day that our &#39;on demand&#39; cable movies have a number of old Woody Allen flicks listed this month, and I revisited this one the other evening. I was once a big fan of his films, and a lot of my friends use the excuse of his messy personal improprieties to explain his films falling out of their favor in recent years, or the fact that he has a bad habit of pairing himself with younger and younger leading ladies leaving a bad taste in their mouth.My falling away has more to do with his insular vision, the way he sets his stories in the same comfortable environs of priviledge and class, and the few times he ventures outside of it, the tone comes across as condescending, or as if he&#39;s &#39;slumming&#39;. You may say that he makes films about &#39;what he knows&#39;, and that&#39;s fair I suppose, and you gotta applaud the guy for regularly churning out halfway decent material without spending a gazillion dollars a picture, and still attracting talented actors to work with him picture after picture.I saw this one only once many years ago in the theater, and I remember it quite vividly, because it was the night before my son&#39;s birth. Two interweaving storylines, of which the Martin Landau one is definitely the more interesting, because it seems to step outside that usual &#39;Woody Allen Comfort Zone&#39;, and could be one of the only movies in which a cold blooded murder, where the body and blood is displayed and lingered over.(I know, there were murders in &#39;Manhatten Murder Mystery&#39;, and &#39;Radio Days&#39;, etc, and his jokes frequently drop names like Leopold and Loeb, or Charlie Starkweather etc - but even with the serious undertones they were mainly played for laughs - ) Martin Landau gives a terrific performance as a man wracked by guilt, but ultimately having to live with the punishment of his own culpability rather than the tidy retribution of the authorities. The Woody Allen storyline concerning his shallow but successful brother-in-law and an extramarital unrequited romance with his producer (Mia Farrow of course) is much less interesting, but even so, manages a suitable payoff at the wedding scene. The movie tries for some heavy philosophizing while it wrestles with moral dillemas, regarding some subplots about an elderly life affirming jewish philospher who is the subject of Allen&#39;s struggling documentary and some heavy handed but effective symbolism regarding the blind Rabbi (Sam Waterston, another Allen regular) dancing with his daughter at his wedding to "I&#39;ll be Seeing You". Overall, not a laugh riot like many of his films, but there are some laugh out loud moments (Woody&#39;s reaction to his sister&#39;s &#39;dating experience&#39; is one memorable example), and plenty of gristle on the philosophical bone to chew on long after the movie&#39;s done. http://www.spout.com/blogs/p3x984/archive/2006/7/12/1885.aspx Post By: P3X984
Post To: P3X984 Blog
Post Date: 7/12/2006 2:08:25 PM
Body: To all of you who saw that embarrassing, border-line incomprehensible and hastily removed post from a while ago - I'm sorry for being weird about it and I hope this serves as an explanation of some kind. Officially "breaking up"(so-to-speak) a month after the fact is a weird, weird thing. But, good ultimately. i guess. No. It's good. It's completely terrifying and hard, but good and necessary. Closure is truly an amazing feeling, I've found. It was great to talk, and learn about scary new jobs and new long-distance boyfriends and other things I would have not missed out on knowing about if we weren't being so stupid. We talked everything out, and I could tell that it was a good conversation because I lost my appetite and wanted to cry. driving home and listening to a mix* I later found out was made for her by the new boyfriend before he headed home to LA, I kind of did a little. These were straight up hardcore over-the-top "I love you" jams that completely tore me up late 2004. Jams that I remember specifically putting on so many similarly themed tapes back then. By the end of Electrelane's "birds," a song that even under normal circumstances already totally slays me, I started to breakdown a little. It was like I was in this weird depressing time warp that instantly forced me to recall every other failed relationship and why it failed. It was such a terrible feeling. Oh and there was rain. Oh god, there was rain. "This sucks" we both agreed and like some sick cosmic joke, "I don't blame you" by cat power - cat fucking power - came on the stereo. I didn't absolutely lose it in the car, but walking up the steps to my apartment is a completely different story. Ever since I discovered it on PBS at like 430 in the morning on a saturday sometime in high school, every time something went wrong in a relationship - or not even wrong I guess, just not how I probably would have liked at the time - I would watch Casablanca. One year, at exactly the perfect time in my personal life, the late alpine 4 played a weeklong Bogart double feature of the Maltese Falcon and Casablanca. I watched Maltese Falcon only once, but I caught the showing of Casablanca every night that week. Time would stop when i watched Casablanca, i was enthralled. I think that I must have thought it was soothing somehow, but in actuality, watching Casablanca in any kind of romantically depressed state is about the worst idea of all time. Its torture, really. Like bashing your skull in with a large polo mallet, it only serves to make things worse. About a year ago, however, I realized the solution. Casablanca as romantic catharsis only works with a mandatory 4 hours of additional commentary: A screening of Casablanca followed by Woody Allen's Play It Again, Sam and Rob Reiner's When Harry Met Sally. Watching these films in this specific order makes a cinematic breakup mix tape (one that Beezy refers to as my "boner jams '03") that both reaffirms Casablanca's place and importance in the history of romantic film, but also completely cheers me up. Somewhere between "Here's looking at you kid" and "Don't fuck with Mr. Zero" I end up feeling pretty OK. The logic of this juxtaposition is clear in both chronology and influence. These films build upon each other. Play It Again, Sam picks up exactly where Casablanca leaves off - opening with nebbish film critic Allan Felix (Allen) watching the closing scene of Casablanca, mouth agape with situational lust. Play It Again, Sam references Casablanca so intensely that through much of the film Allan gets romantic advice from the ghost of Humphrey Bogart and eventually recreates the classic's closing scene as its own conclusion. "If that plane leaves the ground, and you're not on it with him, you'll regret it - maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life." Allan tells Linda (Diane Keaton), the love of his life. "That's beautiful!" she cries. "It's from Casablanca." he says, "I waited my whole life to say it." And I completely understand how he feels. The problem with Casablanca as a romantic model, I think, is that it is a TOO perfect example of tragic love. An example that jerks like Allan Felix and I idealize too far out of proportion. I think I had seen a half dozen Woody Allen films before I saw Play It Again, Sam, but seeing this film was a completely epiphanous experience, and reaffirmed everything I loved about him at the time. Play It Again, Sam was the first film where Woody Allen and Diane Keaton shared the screen together (she had been previously cast in the play version of the story), but When Harry Met Sally is the direct descendant of their later work together, Annie Hall in particular. Screenwriter Nora Ephron clearly worships at the alter of Woody Allen, and has even appeared as an extra in a couple of his films.[1][2] Not only does When Harry Met Sally mimic Annie Hall thematically and formally (opening titles, score, split screens, the film is intercut with direct camera interviews, etc.) but I have always felt that Billy Crystal plays Harry like a more personable Woody Allen (Woody Allen-lite!). I can just imagine Nora and Rob directing Crystal to “Be more like Woody!!” (Apart from this sentence, right here, I will not attempt to make a connection between this opinion and the fact that not quite 10 years later Billy Crystal played the devil in Allen’s Deconstructing Harry. It’s a bit of a stretch, even for me.) For all of its similarity to Allen’s work, it shares a healthy obsession with Casablanca as well. The score consists mostly of a young Harry Connick Jr. covering jazz standards made popular by their inclusion in Casablanca, most notably As Time Goes By and It Had to Be You (a song awkwardly sung by Annie Hall in a bar on one of her earliest dates with Alvy). Another reference to the classic is made in When Harry Met Sally’s opening sequence (as Harry and Sally travel from Chicago to New York) and is then mirrored a decade later in the film’s chronology when Harry and Sally recall that conversation on the phone while actually watching Casablanca on late-nite cable. Though each is in their respective bedroom, the scene is mostly shot from behind in split screen, making it appear as if two are sharing a bed. Casablanca is a straight up weepy through and through. Play It Again, Sam recreates the same trajectory but lightens it up with some CLASSIC one-liners and the slapstick humor typical of Allen’s earlier work. Play It Again, Sam still ends sadly, but softens the blow along the way leaving When Harry Met Sally function as cleanup. It’s the part of the mix that makes everything OK. It takes the tragedy of the first two films, and spins it around with the kind of totally-Hollywood happy ending that I am an absolute sucker for. While the endings of Casablanca and Play It Again, Sam are more like real life (who am I kidding, it’s nothing that noble, Annie Hall is like real life), When Harry Met Sally provides the TRUE escapism necessary for this mix to work. It projects the (false?) hope that maybe someday something will work out alright, even if it takes 30 years to happen. And by six hours into the cycle, it’s this kind of hope that I need. Normally I watch these films back-to-back, but I started this cycle again a couple weeks ago and only got through Casablanca before I needed a break. I plan on finishing it after the potluck tonight. Maybe I should start the whole thing over again. Anyhow, I am so glad she and I finally got the chance to talk about everything that was upsetting us. And I’m pretty much over everything. I have obviously had a lot of time to think about this, and it was really just the acknowledgement that I needed. Now it won't be weird when see each other around town anymore and I think we will be back to being good friends in no time at all. I really look forward to that. *I'm trying super hard not to be catty about the new boyfriend thing, because that is totally not the classy way to go out. But I am reserving the right with regards to absolutely the most superficial thing: the mix tape. So superficial, in fact that it makes me a little guilty. The guilt and the cattiness cancel each out, right? Right? But Buena Vista Social Club?!? Are you kidding me? i mean we all love Wim Wenders, but come on, man. That’s what white people put on mixes to show how cultured they are. Well, now I feel like a jerk again and that makes everything seem alright, i guess. It’s the little things that reinforce the status quo. ps. mad shouts to nina for late night/early morning chats. even from berlin you still know exactly what to say.]]> Originally posted on:mixed feelings
]]>Wed, 12 Jul 2006 18:08:25 GMTP3X984P3X984 Blog7/12/2006 2:08:25 PMTo all of you who saw that embarrassing, border-line incomprehensible and hastily removed post from a while ago - I'm sorry for being weird about it and I hope this serves as an explanation of some kind. Officially "breaking up"(so-to-speak) a month after the fact is a weird, weird thing. But, good ultimately. i guess. No. It's good. It's completely terrifying and hard, but good and necessary. Closure is truly an amazing feeling, I've found. It was great to talk, and learn about scary new jobs and new long-distance boyfriends and other things I would have not missed out on knowing about if we weren't being so stupid. We talked everything out, and I could tell that it was a good conversation because I lost my appetite and wanted to cry. driving home and listening to a mix* I later found out was made for her by the new boyfriend before he headed home to LA, I kind of did a little. These were straight up hardcore over-the-top "I love you" jams that completely tore me up late 2004. Jams that I remember specifically putting on so many similarly themed tapes back then. By the end of Electrelane's "birds," a song that even under normal circumstances already totally slays me, I started to breakdown a little. It was like I was in this weird depressing time warp that instantly forced me to recall every other failed relationship and why it failed. It was such a terrible feeling. Oh and there was rain. Oh god, there was rain. "This sucks" we both agreed and like some sick cosmic joke, "I don't blame you" by cat power - cat fucking power - came on the stereo. I didn't absolutely lose it in the car, but walking up the steps to my apartment is a completely different story. Ever since I discovered it on PBS at like 430 in the morning on a saturday sometime in high school, every time something went wrong in a relationship - or not even wrong I guess, just not how I probably would have liked at the time - I would watch Casablanca. One year, at exactly the perfect time in my personal life, the late alpine 4 played a weeklong Bogart double feature of the Maltese Falcon and Casablanca. I watched Maltese Falcon only once, but I caught the showing of Casablanca every night that week. Time would stop when i watched Casablanca, i was enthralled. I think that I must have thought it was soothing somehow, but in actuality, watching Casablanca in any kind of romantically depressed state is about the worst idea of all time. Its torture, really. Like bashing your skull in with a large polo mallet, it only serves to make things worse. About a year ago, however, I realized the solution. Casablanca as romantic catharsis only works with a mandatory 4 hours of additional commentary: A screening of Casablanca followed by Woody Allen's Play It Again, Sam and Rob Reiner's When Harry Met Sally. Watching these films in this specific order makes a cinematic breakup mix tape (one that Beezy refers to as my "boner jams '03") that both reaffirms Casablanca's place and importance in the history of romantic film, but also completely cheers me up. Somewhere between "Here's looking at you kid" and "Don't fuck with Mr. Zero" I end up feeling pretty OK. The logic of this juxtaposition is clear in both chronology and influence. These films build upon each other. Play It Again, Sam picks up exactly where Casablanca leaves off - opening with nebbish film critic Allan Felix (Allen) watching the closing scene of Casablanca, mouth agape with situational lust. Play It Again, Sam references Casablanca so intensely that through much of the film Allan gets romantic advice from the ghost of Humphrey Bogart and eventually recreates the classic's closing scene as its own conclusion. "If that plane leaves the ground, and you're not on it with him, you'll regret it - maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of your life." Allan tells Linda (Diane Keaton), the love of his life. "That's beautiful!" she cries. "It's from Casablanca." he says, "I waited my whole life to say it." And I completely understand how he feels. The problem with Casablanca as a romantic model, I think, is that it is a TOO perfect example of tragic love. An example that jerks like Allan Felix and I idealize too far out of proportion. I think I had seen a half dozen Woody Allen films before I saw Play It Again, Sam, but seeing this film was a completely epiphanous experience, and reaffirmed everything I loved about him at the time. Play It Again, Sam was the first film where Woody Allen and Diane Keaton shared the screen together (she had been previously cast in the play version of the story), but When Harry Met Sally is the direct descendant of their later work together, Annie Hall in particular. Screenwriter Nora Ephron clearly worships at the alter of Woody Allen, and has even appeared as an extra in a couple of his films.[1][2] Not only does When Harry Met Sally mimic Annie Hall thematically and formally (opening titles, score, split screens, the film is intercut with direct camera interviews, etc.) but I have always felt that Billy Crystal plays Harry like a more personable Woody Allen (Woody Allen-lite!). I can just imagine Nora and Rob directing Crystal to “Be more like Woody!!” (Apart from this sentence, right here, I will not attempt to make a connection between this opinion and the fact that not quite 10 years later Billy Crystal played the devil in Allen’s Deconstructing Harry. It’s a bit of a stretch, even for me.) For all of its similarity to Allen’s work, it shares a healthy obsession with Casablanca as well. The score consists mostly of a young Harry Connick Jr. covering jazz standards made popular by their inclusion in Casablanca, most notably As Time Goes By and It Had to Be You (a song awkwardly sung by Annie Hall in a bar on one of her earliest dates with Alvy). Another reference to the classic is made in When Harry Met Sally’s opening sequence (as Harry and Sally travel from Chicago to New York) and is then mirrored a decade later in the film’s chronology when Harry and Sally recall that conversation on the phone while actually watching Casablanca on late-nite cable. Though each is in their respective bedroom, the scene is mostly shot from behind in split screen, making it appear as if two are sharing a bed. Casablanca is a straight up weepy through and through. Play It Again, Sam recreates the same trajectory but lightens it up with some CLASSIC one-liners and the slapstick humor typical of Allen’s earlier work. Play It Again, Sam still ends sadly, but softens the blow along the way leaving When Harry Met Sally function as cleanup. It’s the part of the mix that makes everything OK. It takes the tragedy of the first two films, and spins it around with the kind of totally-Hollywood happy ending that I am an absolute sucker for. While the endings of Casablanca and Play It Again, Sam are more like real life (who am I kidding, it’s nothing that noble, Annie Hall is like real life), When Harry Met Sally provides the TRUE escapism necessary for this mix to work. It projects the (false?) hope that maybe someday something will work out alright, even if it takes 30 years to happen. And by six hours into the cycle, it’s this kind of hope that I need. Normally I watch these films back-to-back, but I started this cycle again a couple weeks ago and only got through Casablanca before I needed a break. I plan on finishing it after the potluck tonight. Maybe I should start the whole thing over again. Anyhow, I am so glad she and I finally got the chance to talk about everything that was upsetting us. And I’m pretty much over everything. I have obviously had a lot of time to think about this, and it was really just the acknowledgement that I needed. Now it won't be weird when see each other around town anymore and I think we will be back to being good friends in no time at all. I really look forward to that. *I'm trying super hard not to be catty about the new boyfriend thing, because that is totally not the classy way to go out. But I am reserving the right with regards to absolutely the most superficial thing: the mix tape. So superficial, in fact that it makes me a little guilty. The guilt and the cattiness cancel each out, right? Right? But Buena Vista Social Club?!? Are you kidding me? i mean we all love Wim Wenders, but come on, man. That’s what white people put on mixes to show how cultured they are. Well, now I feel like a jerk again and that makes everything seem alright, i guess. It’s the little things that reinforce the status quo. ps. mad shouts to nina for late night/early morning chats. even from berlin you still know exactly what to say.]]> Originally posted on:mixed feelings http://www.spout.com/members/0/tags/love/MemberTagFilms.aspxlove
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