It’s certainly no secret that what’s being called The Complete Metropolis is booked for one show next Friday, Oct. 29 at 7:30 p.m. at The Carolina by the Asheville Film Society. And it probably takes something less than the detecting prowess of Sherlock Holmes to figure out that I was the primary force behind that. Possibly less clear to folks who don’t follow these things is just what “complete” means in this instance—since we’re not talking two or three minutes, but a whopping 25 minute addition—why it’s historically significant and, for that matter, what exactly Metropolis was, what it came to be and what it is again.
Four movies open this week: You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, Waiting for “Superman,” Hereafter and Paranormal Activity 2. Of these, I’ve only seen Waiting for “Superman”, which is an exceptional documentary opening on Friday at the Fine Arts, and about which you can read more in this week’s Xpress. The other three are all of interest of one kind or another.
I’m looking down the barrel of a gun marked, “The Weekend from Hell”—in movie reviewing terms, that is. Somewhere between now and Monday morning, five full movie reviews and five special screening reviews have to appear as if by magic. That adds up to ten—assuming “New Math” is not involved—and, yes, it’s been done before, but it’s daunting. To add to the daunt factor, I’ve only seen one of the full movies (I’ll be taking a break from this and heading out to take in a couple more in a little while). To make it just that much more entertaining, three of the special screenings are of movies I’ve never seen before. This means that seven movies have to be watched, digested and written about—and then there’s this “Screening Room” thingie. What does this mean to the reader? Simply that the “Screening Room” is going to be of the short and hopefully sweet variety.
This is one of those tricky weeks where movie titles cropped up—out of nowhere or from Freestyle Releasing, which amounts to about the same thing—after the upcomers were done. As a result, in addition to the three movies I was expecting to open this week—Never Let Me Go, RED and Jackass 3-D—we also have N-Secure and I Want Your Money. This does not appear to be a blessing.
In the past few weeks I’ve encountered the concept of the unassailable, unimpeachable, untouchable “classic”—both old and new—from readers. It wasn’t brought into play unkindly, and in most cases it was done by readers I know personally. But in all cases, they were working more or less on the basis that certain films have achieved an inviolable state and that to not recognize that fact imperils one’s cinematic soul to the degree that actual excommunication might have to be considered. To this I say—also not unkindly—not only stuff and nonsense, but balder and dash, and perhaps even poppy and cock.
Diversity abounds this week: three mainstream titles, two “art” films and a something-or-other (I’ll get to that in due course). There’s a lot to be said for diversity, though from the looks of it, some of this particular batch of diversity looks pretty darn dubious from here.
It’s only the first part of October and as far as the movies are concerned Halloween is upon us. Perhaps it’s in honor of the midterm elections—which certainly have all the elements of Halloween—but it seems that this is the most Halloween-centered October in living memory. Well, certainly the most in my living memory. Starting with the October 1 releases, there are no less than nine horror pictures slated to appear—like genii from the bottle—by Halloween. This doesn’t even take into account special showings and TV screenings. I’m not complaining, mind you, but it does seem unusual.
As yesterday unfolded, my notions of what was opening on Friday kept being altered. At the time I sent in the list of upcomers, it consisted of Cairo Time, Let Me In, The Social Network and Animal Kingdom. Next thing I know I’m getting listings with Case 29 added, followed by information about something called Chain Letter—all long after the deadline for the print edition, of course. The late additions are probably negligible, unless you review movies, in which case they’re probably irritants.
We’re screening Rouben Mamoulian’s Love Me Tonight—the 1932 Maurice Chevalier musical comedy—on Tuesday at the Asheville Film Society (in the Cinema Lounge at The Carolina at 8 p.m.), an event that helped bring to mind the question of divorcing the experience of seeing a movie from the movie itself. In other words, is it really possible to completely separate one’s feelings about a film from the circumstances—audience, format, presentation, etc.—under which it was seen? I’m neither sure that it is, nor am I certain that it’s necessarily a bad thing in some respects.
This week may have only three mainstream openers—Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps, You Again and Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole—but it outdoes itself when you factor in the three new art-house titles—The Extra Man (Carolina), Life During Wartime (Fine Arts) and Bran Nue Dae (Carolina). I have the advantage of having already seen the art titles, but even if I hadn’t, I still believe I’d find them more enticing.
Last week the Asheville Film Society ran Ken Russell’s Valentino (1977), and not too long ago I bumped into Richard Rush’s The Stunt Man (1980) on TCM, both of which deal—to some degree—with making movies. And both put me in mind of the somewhat curious—and often downright weird—manner in which the movies deal with the making of movies. Has any movie ever gotten close to depicting how movies are made? Has any movie even managed to show a movie being made that you can possibly imagine anyone going to see?
Five—count ‘em—movies hit town this Friday—and that’s assuming there’s nothing hiding in the woodwork like last week’s sudden appearance of Rob Reiner’s Flipped (and I don’t think there is). Factor in the three-day Ricochet Film Festival at The Carolina this Friday, Sept. 17, through Sunday, Sept. 19, and there’s a whole lotta movies going on. Now, how good most of those are may be another matter.
This is a topic that dropped from heaven—or at least from a Facebook acquaintance of mine who sent me a private message that (I guess) was taking me to task for giving The American a good review. The review was never mentioned specifically, but The American was the example used to apprise me that violence is not entertaining, and that all violence that isn’t historical is gratuitous and only illustrates boredom or misanthropy. This rather neatly disposes of D.W. Griffith, John Ford, Howard Hawks, Alfred Hitchcock, Sam Fuller, Stanley Kubrick and Sergio Leone, pretty much puts the kibosh on the horror genre, takes a chunk out of Mr. Shakespeare, and dispenses with the entire catalogue of Warner Bros. cartoons.
This week is a little up in the air. Three movies—Restrepo, Mao’s Last Dancer and Resident Evil: Afterlife 3-D—are definitely opening. A fourth—a low-budget indie sex comedy called The Virginity Hit—is listed as opening in wide release, but it has yet to show up on any booking lists that have come my way from local theaters. So if anyone is hanging by a thread just dying to know if The Virginity Hit is really opening this week, check back.
Everyone has an actor or two whose name on a film increases the chances of attending said film—or possibly even demands it. That’s natural enough, though it’s often incomprehensible to the outsider. But more and more, it seems to me that I encounter the opposite outlook—folks who wouldn’t see a movie on a dare because some performer has so alienated them that the very idea of looking at them on the screen is a deal-breaker.
Apart from the special screening of Tommy at The Carolina on Wed., Sept. 1, at 7:30 p.m., this week belongs to more or less mainstream offerings—three of them to be exact. One of the films is probably negligible, but The American (which opens Wednesday) and Machete hold more than a little interest—much more than you’d expect for traditionally dull (cinematically speaking, of course) Labor Day weekend.
I realize the title of this sounds like it’s connected in some way with Miss Goldilocks and her adventures with that bear family, but it grows out of a question that arose the other day concerning how much a person should know about a movie before seeing it. Of course, this is not a one-size-fits all proposition. Some movies rise or fall on surprising the viewer, but those are specialized cases. But how much is enough for most movies?
Actually, I know it’s better than last week, since I’ve already seen Get Low, which is worth more than all five of last week’s movies put together. The fact that we’re otherwise getting another of those fake cinéma vérité horror pictures (rated PG-13, no less), The Last Exorcism, and some kind of cops-and-robbers flick (also rated PG-13) called Takers is another matter. But I’m betting it’s safe to say they won’t be able to scale the Everestian heights of unmitigated awfulness attained by Vampires Suck.
On Wednesday, Sept. 1 at 7:30 p.m., the newly remastered and restored print of Ken Russell’s Tommy will burst into life on the big screen at The Carolina Asheville in all its Quintophonic sound glory. It marks the first time this restoration has been shown in this part of the world. To date, it’s only been shown—to sold-out houses—in Los Angeles by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and New York by Lincoln Center. The minute I learned of its existence, I was determined that the Asheville Film Society would bring it to town—and here it is.
Five mainstream (more or less) titles open this week and I can’t say I’m exactly overwhelmed with excitement. In fact, I’m not even whelmed, though the prospect of the latest assault from Messrs. Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer, Vampires Suck, tends to make me want to hide under the bed. The others — Nanny McPhee Returns, The Switch, Lottery Ticket, Piranha 3D — are less alarming, but not the sort of thing designed to get my pulse racing or warm my cockles.
