It’s been three days now since I woke from that beautiful dream in Austin, TX, back into the monotonous grind of daily life. But what a dream it was: bellies full of great food, a friend around every corner to waste an afternoon talking to about cinematic minutiae, and best of all, gobbling down the extravagant movie feast prepared by the most passionate, caring film programmer around, Harry fucking Knowles. Harry is a lot of things to a lot of people, but you’d be a fool not to acknowledge that at the end of the day when all the cards are on the table, the dude loves, loves, loves movies with every atom in his being. Better yet, he has dedicated a considerable amount of time and energy in his life to sharing that love with others. Spend two minutes talking to the guy and I think you’ll see what I mean. Harry makes a movie history nerd like me feel like a novice, but a novice hungry for more.
The theme for BNAT 12 was Mandom. More specifically, Cine-Mandom, Harry’s freshly minted term for all things manly on film. Because the Knowles’ are a crazy, loving, slightly demented family, they decided it would be appropriate to let Harry’s 11 year old nephew Giovanni join in the fun this year. As such, the evening’s twelve movies and two clips all centered around themes of coming of age, manliness, what makes a man, etc. BNAT12 was probably the best BNAT lineup I’ve witnessed with my own eyes, and looking back over the years I didn’t attend, I think this year is in the running for highest quality BNAT lineup period. On to the movies!
True Grit
Though it’s fashionable to unequivocally dismiss the idea of remakes – usually for good reason – there are some movies that are just begging for it. I feel that the original True Grit is one of those, a forgettable, B-grade production that just happens to feature one of John Wayne’s best performances. Though Wayne is iconic, the movie itself is, to me, far from classic. Happily, the Coens have realized the full potential of True Grit’s winning concept and characters, and their remake is near enough to perfect. True Grit's success rests on the shoulders of it's three leads, Jeff Bridges taking over for Wayne as Rooster Cogburn, Matt Damon as Texas Ranger LaBoeuf, and Hailee Steinfeld in her first role knocking it out of the park as Mattie Ross. I want to gush about these three performances but I honestly can't decide which one to highlight. All three are given specific unique and individual speaking patterns and physical ticks. The dialogue is antiquated in the most idiosyncratic way. The Coens capture the tones of both “in-town Westerns” and “Wild West Westerns” in turn. They get some serious help from Carter Burwell, whose score sounds almost like silent movie accompaniment, and cinematographer Roger Deakins, whose photography brings the atmosphere and texture of the West to life in a way not altogether dissimilar from what Nestor Almendros and Haskell Wexler might have done. The corners of crowd scenes are jammed with faces so weathered and archaic you'd swear they couldn't belong to people living in this day and age. Josh Brolin completely reinvents himself as Tom Chaney; he looks the same, but it's all in the voice. Where other Brolin roles are gruff and strong, Brolin's Chaney is weak and whiny. It's outstanding work in a small, thankless role destined to be overshadowed. The last time people freaked about the Coens was for No Country for Old Men. That year I was pretty caught up on the There Will Be Blood bandwagon. For one reason or another I never fell for No Country the way others did. True Grit, on the other hand, is a movie I’m more than happy to join the chorus of praise for.
Le Samourai
This year’s first vintage movie was Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samourai. According to Harry, the 35mm print we saw is the only one in existence, and was kindly lent out by one Mr. Quentin Tarantino for the event. Sick. The print was appropriately faded and scratchy, but in good enough condition all things considered. Le Samourai is an easy movie to appreciate and a difficult one to love. This is not an accident. Melville’s movie is a character study of a very unique and not very relatable character. Alain Delon’s Ronin-esque hitman is so removed, so cool, calm, and collected, the audience doesn't really have an “in” with his character. This is not a knock on the movie at all. Le Samourai is passionless, but that’s the point. It’s more like a math problem than a poem, and the setup and symmetry is a marvel to behold.
On the Town
I missed Harry’s intro to On the Town, so I’m not sure if he discussed how the movie was shot primarily on location in Manhattan. Regardless, it is painfully obvious from the first shot of the movie, as a heavyset dockworker saunters down a pier that looks straight out of On the Waterfront. The beautiful, syrupy Leonard Bernstein melody that streams out when he opens his mouth is absurdist perfection, and sets the lighthearted, expect-anything tone of the rest of the movie. The three most winning, enjoyable sailors you'll ever meet – Gene Kelly, Frank Sinatra, and Jules Munshin – are on shore leave in NYC for just 24 hours. They put on a good song and dance about wanting to see the sights, but let's face it, these dudes gotta get laid. Luckily it turns out the Manhattan ladies they run into – Betty Garret, Ann Miller, and Vera-Ellen – are eager and horny. Yes, you read that right, for a lighthearted post-war musical, On the Town is horny as fuck. The innuendo is never subtle, but the “Prehistoric Man” musical number takes it over the top. Ann Miller is downright filthy. Bear (bare) skin, tom-toms, who knew anthropology was so ripe with double meaning? Good god, this movie is too much fun.
Cowboys and Aliens clip
The surprise of the evening was a visit from Jon Favreau, Ron Howard, and Robert Orci, who showed up with the unfinished first 40 minutes of Cowboys and Aliens. Favreau and Orci are of course responsible for some of my favorite big budget movies of the last years, but there was something about seeing Ron Howard, a face I've known since I was a child, sitting at the front of the theater, bewildered by these BNAT crazies, that really struck a chord with me. As square as he may be, at this point the dude is a legend. I love getting to see rough cuts of big budget movies. The process is fascinating. Watching Cowboys and Aliens, I was struck by how the unfinished sound effects and mixing made the movie feel naked. Per specific instruction, I can't go into too much detail about what we saw. Harrison Ford and Daniel Craig are as badass as you've heard. However, the extremely underrated Paul Dano is the real scene stealer so far. Favreau utilizes Dano's weaselly smarm better than anyone since P.T. Anderson. We're a long way from the movie's July release, but Cowboys and Aliens is already shaping up to be an exciting ride.
Rango clip
After Favreau and the gang said their farewells, we were treated to a 10 minute clip from Gore Verbinski’s upcoming animated movie Rango. We really didn’t see enough to get a definite feel for what Rango is all about. The vibe is a little more Dreamworks than Pixar, so take that for what it’s worth. The character animation, however, is outstanding. The bar scene we saw is full of all sorts of desert critters, from reptiles to rabbits to moles, and the different textures are really jaw dropping. Visually, Rango looks to be an interesting step away from current aesthetic standards, and I look forward to checking it out.
Santa Fe Trail
When I see the names Errol Flynn and Michael Curtiz together, I think of good ol' boy action-adventure movies like The Adventures of Robin Hood and The Sea Hawk. Where a good sword fight and some back talk can save the day. There's a clear line between good and evil, the bad guys are smarmy, the good guys are cocky, and the babes are helpless. Sante Fe Trail, which follows J.E.B. Stuart (Flynn) and George Armstrong Custer (Ronald Regan) from West Point to an embattled Kansas territory to the opening volleys of the Civil War at Harpers Ferry, is not that movie. Flynn plays Stuart as the same kind of happy go lucky rogue as Robin Hood or Captain Blood. The problem is, he's stuck in a movie full of troublesome moral ambiguity. Flynn is great in the part, his eyes constantly projecting his frustration that this no-win scenario can’t just be solved by konking a few bad guys on the head and riding off into the sunset. Santa Fe Trail brilliantly subverts what we expect a Curtiz/Flynn movie to be like. A favorite of mine from his roles in 49th Parallel and A Matter of Life and Death, Raymond Massey steals the show here as John Brown, the morally commendable but batshit crazy abolitionist leader. His righteous indignation and buggin' out eyeballs are a throwback to silent era acting, but it fits. On the other hand, Santa Fe Trail is a ridiculously flabby movie, with an unmanageable amount of subplots and a scope that Curtiz struggles to contain. It is a very interesting if not unabashedly great movie.
The Fighter
Of this year's BNAT premieres, The Fighter was the biggest surprise. I was not at all excited about this movie. The previews made it look like little more than Oscar bait, one of those New England blue color testosterone nightmares that have become so popular recently. Though Christian Bale is acting his ass off from scene one, I still wasn't won over. I kept waiting for the movie to derail into saccharine sap, but by some miracle it never happened. Scene after scene, The Fighter defies expectations, never going for the easy, clear solution. Mark Wahlberg gets the thankless role here, as would be boxing champ "Irish" Micky Ward, who, over the course of the movie, is repeatedly walked all over by his ex-boxer crackhead brother Dicky (Bale), his manipulative mom (Melissa Leo), his caring but strongheaded girlfriend (Amy Adams), and his 7(!) loud, trashy sisters. What I love about The Fighter is that there is never an epiphany moment where Micky wrenches control of his life from his overbearing friends and family. The transformation is much more subtle, the way family really works. Micky isn't an in your face kind of guy, so a polemic stance would be out of character. Rather, Micky takes baby steps toward assertiveness. And, oh yeah, Christian Bale totally owns this movie!
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Next Harry announced a double feature of movies staring great fat actors. First was the 1939 Hunchback of Notre Dame starring the magnificent Charles Laughton. This astounding movie completely blindsided me. Laughton, director William Dieterle, and the rest of the cast and crew distill very complex source material into an impossibly dense, yet clear and to-the-point production. Every second of the movie engages the heart and the brain to the fullest. These two hours contain such wisdom and wit about life, love, death, class, religion, relationships, and human incongruence. Hunchback confirmed what I already suspected: that Laughton is indeed one of the greatest actors to ever grace the silver screen. His performance as Quasimodo is devastating. The makeup work on the hunchback, though dated, is uncannily effective. The glimmer of life in Laughton’s real eye is matched by that of the prosthetic. If I am correct, this is the first William Dieterle movie I’ve seen. What a treat to have a whole new director’s body of work to pour over! Hunchback was hands down my favorite movie of the fest, and probably my favorite movie I’ve ever seen at any BNAT.
Chimes at Midnight
Rounding out the fat man double feature was Orson Welles’ Chimes at Midnight AKA Falstaff. We were informed before the screening that this was possibly the only known print in existence, and that the movie had never been released on video, DVD, laserdisc, or anything. It was allegedly Welles’ favorite of his own movies. Someone reminded me later, however, that Welles was a little crazy. This mashup of sequences from Shakespeare’s historicals suffered greatly from being played so late at night. After 14 hours of movie watching, fatigue was starting to set in, and a Shakespeare historical pastiche was not the best pick me up. I feel cheated by my own body fatigue, because the bit of Chimes at Midnight I was able to properly digest I enjoyed immensely. Welles is physically enormous at this point in his life, and his Falstaff deftly balances weight and age with speed and wit. It’s a fascinating performance, as if we needed another reminder that we could never get enough performances out of Welles. As director, Welles’ camera is roving and flighty. Though I hesitate to draw direct comparisons, it is apparent that Welles was more than open to learning a few lessons from the French New Wave. Before Chimes at Midnight played, Harry strongly encouraged the audience to write as much as possible about the movie as a petition for its release on DVD. I have to think perhaps that Harry suspected that the audience wouldn’t be able to handle Chimes at Midnight programmed as late as it was, but played it anyway so that it would stir up our interest enough to clamor for a chance to see it again. That’s how I took it, at least. I’d love the opportunity to sit down with Welles’ movie and digest it in a fully lucid state.
Richard Pryor Live in Concert
He’s Richard Pryor, he’s great, you love him. This beautifully beat up print was the genuine pick-me-up we needed for in the 4am time slot. I don’t need to tell you how legendary Richard Pryor is. This screening pumped the life back into the room after Chimes at Midnight’s shaky performance. The laughter was loud, the comradery palpable. I would not have expected a live comedy performance to go over so well at BNAT, which shows you what I know.
The Green Hornet
The Green Hornet is just about the best mainstream superhero/comedy/action movie it could be. Michel Gondry’s latest is not out to win Oscars or change the world, and for the piece of cotton candy that it is Green Hornet succeeds. Seth Rogan plays the same fratboy sweetheart he always does; it’s a character I enjoy, so no complaints here. Its Jay Chou’s Kato that completely steals the show, however, presenting the character as an impossibly entertaining mashup of Q, Short Round, and Bruce Lee. I could just watch him create gadgets and kick the shit out of people all day long. A handful of great action set pieces and a surprisingly unconventional love triangle keep things moving. I had fairly low expectations for this one, and was pleasantly surprised. Be sure to watch out for a show stopping cameo from the strangest man in show business, James Franco.
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BNATers have been asked not to discuss the next movie that played, which is too bad. I’d love to tell you about how this movie is more badass than it has any right to be, and much better than another movie of similar ilk and origin that came out earlier this year.
Drive Angry
Drive Angry, next year’s supernatural car chase Nicholas Cage vehicle, is not bad at all, but misses some of the marks it’s aiming for. First off, I don’t how you can cast Nic Cage in an over the top cheesy action movie and not get any Mega-Acting out of him. This movie deserves at least one totally righteous Nicholas Cage freak out. Like director Patrick Lussier's previous 3D effort, My Bloody Valentine 3D, Drive Angry is verrrrrrrry 3 and verrrrrrry D, with bullets, cars, boobs, and blood popping out at you from every which way for nearly every second of the movie. There’s something pretty great about the way Lussier has embraced the campy, exploitation-y origins of 3D, but unlike My Bloody Valentine, I wish they would have taken it a little further over the edge here. Piranha 3D is still the neo-3D-camp movie to beat.
Tron: Legacy
Tron: Legacy wasn’t great, but my expectations weren’t very high anyway. I was slightly too young for the Tron phenomenon the first time around, so when I finally got around to seeing it a few years back I appreciated the visuals but was left more than a little nonplussed by everything else. I don’t have the nostalgia factor so important to the continued success of movies like Tron, The Goonies, Gremlins, etc. So what I got out of Tron: Legacy was a mediocre story with some pretty freaking stunning IMAX 3D visuals and a kickass score from Daft Punk. For what it is Tron: Legacy was a fun, light comedown for BNAT. Is it a great movie? No. Is it even a particularly good movie? Not really, but Harry’s childlike love for the material is pretty infectious… for me if not for Drew McWeeney…
And that's was BNAT 12. There will always be some movies that I love more than others. But BNAT is about pure cinema bliss, discovering unexpected gems, and communion with some of the most dedicated and borderline insane movie geeks on planet earth. For "one of us," there's nothing else like it.
So rumor has it that next year the theme will reverse for CineFemmeDom. Left in the conniving hands of that mad alchemist Knowles, I shudder to think…
-Ben