Review: Blinded by the Light (2019)

Posted on August 16, 2019 by sheila

I really loved Blinded by the Light, based on Sarfraz Manzoor’s memoir Greetings From Bury Park, about growing up the son of Pakistani immigrants in England, and his life-changing discovery of Bruce Springsteen. Directed by Gurinder Chadha, who also directed monster-hit Bend It Like Beckham, Blinded by the Light is a poignant story about a kid trying to navigate the shoals of the first-generation immigrant experience – but it’s also a great story about the positive aspects of fandom. I loved it! My review of Blinded by the Light is up at Rogerebert.com.

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He Shook It Like a Chorus Girl

Posted on August 16, 2019 by sheila

42 years ago today, Elvis Presley died.

We will always miss someone who sings like their “soul is at stake,” to quote Gillian Welch’s haunting song. Almost no one lives every moment – onstage or off – like their “soul is at stake.”

As Dave Marsh wrote in his Elvis book:

There is no explanation. And if one listens closely to songs like “Hurt” and “I Can Help” and “If I Can Dream” – if one listens clear back to “Mystery Train” and “Blue Moon” – that’s what is truly heard: A voice, high and thrilled in the early days, lower and perplexed in the final months, seeking answers where there are none, clarity where there is none, cause where is only effect.

Somewhere, out of all this, Elvis began to seem like a man who had reached some conclusions. And so he was made into a god and a king. He was neither – he was something more American and, I think, something more heroic. Elvis Presley was an explorer of vast new landscapes of dream and illusion. He was a man who refused to be told that the best of his dreams would not come true, who refused to be defined by anyone else’s conceptions.

This is the goal of democracy, the journey on which every prospective American hero sets out. That Elvis made so much of the journey on his own is reason enough to remember him with the honor and love we reserve for the bravest among us. Such men are the only maps we can trust.

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50 Best Albums, by Brendan O’Malley, #20. Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros, Rock Art & The X-Ray Style

Posted on August 12, 2019 by sheila

My talented brother Brendan O’Malley is an amazing writer and actor. He’s wonderful in the recent You & Me, directed by Alexander Baack. (I interviewed Baack about the film here.) His most recent gig was story editor/writer on the hit series Survivor’s Remorse. Brendan hasn’t blogged in years, but the “content” (dreaded word) is so good I asked if I could import some of it to my blog. He did series on books he loved, and albums he loved. I thought it would be fun to put up some of the stuff here. So we’ll start with his list of 50 Best Albums. I’ll put up one every Monday.

Brendan’s list of 50 Best Albums is part music-critique and part memoir and part cultural snapshot.

I have always loved these essays, because I love to hear my brother talk. I am happy to share them with you!

50 Best Albums, by Brendan O’Malley

20. Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros – Rock Art & The X-Ray Style

As far as I’m concerned, this entire Top 50 List could consist entirely of albums by The Beatles, The Clash, The Rolling Stones, and The Replacements. So in order to shake it up and distinguish it from other similar lists, I’ve forced myself to include questionable entries, i.e. albums that I wrote, my sister and cousins wrote, and Chinese Democracy.

So no, this album by Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros is not better than London Calling. London Calling has its place in the pantheon as one of the greatest albums of all time in any genre. So why should I write about Joe Strummer in place of that? Because.

I came to Los Angeles several times before moving here. Two days after Cashel was born I was flown out on a callback for a beer commercial. That was my first time in LA. The second time I came I booked myself into an Extended Stay hotel for a couple of weeks and tried to scare up some meetings. The third time I came…well, that’s what this review is really about.

Earlier that year, my cousin Mike had been visiting New York. As usual, debauchery and comedy ensued. This might have been the beginning of the Law and Order skit that we’ve been amusing ourselves with, whereby a regular civilian when faced with homicide detectives, continues vigorously polishing silverware or stacking cantaloupes instead of sitting the hell down and answering the questions.

And Mike played me Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros. I remember we were riding in a cab somewhere, it was already quite late, and Mike said in that insistent tone I’ve come to expect great things from, “Dude, you’ve gotta listen to this album.”

The Clash had been the true template for the band I’d been in in high school. As much as I love The Replacements, The Clash are the true height of rock and roll. Some famous quote called them “The Only Band That Matters” or something to that effect. And I think in many ways that was true. For my friends and I, their breakup was as crushing as The Beatles had been to the Baby Boomers.

And then Joe Strummer disappeared. Mick Jones pushed the boundaries of popular music with his rock/rap outfit Big Audio Dynamite, music that is still influencing the scene today. If you check out their stuff you’ll not be able to believe it was recorded in the ’80’s.

But Joe Strummer? He was our Springsteen. Imagine that for the next TEN YEARS Bruce Springsteen was silent. Well, that’s what Joe Strummer did. That’s how punk rock that fucker was.

He’d put out the excellent Earthquake Weather in 1989, he’d done some work with The Pogues, but it all felt like after-thoughts, like he’d decided to have some fun.

But when Rock Art & The X-Ray Style snaked out of those headphones into my ears in early 2000 in a cab shooting up 6th avenue, I knew this was no after-thought.

Cut to LA. I’m again visiting, knocking on mostly closed doors. This time, due to financial considerations, I’m staying at Cashel’s uncle’s, my former brother-in-law’s house. But I’m spending most of my time with Mike and Lisa in Venice. Mike excitedly tells me that Joe Strummer & The Mescaleros are playing The Troubador, the famed West Hollywood club. Mike immediately snaps up tickets.

I shoot up the 10 in my teeny Ford Aveo rent-a-car. In some strange fit of fiscal irresponsibility I’ve paid for every bit of insurance one can buy, even though my credit card supposedly covers me anyway. I am jazzed about the prospect of seeing one of the few heroes I have.

I exit the 10 onto Crenshaw. At the top of the ramp I skirt right through the tail end of a yellow light. It’s about 2 a.m. so traffic is slight. About 50 yards up Crenshaw is the ramp from the 10 going in the other direction. As I take my left onto Crenshaw that light turns green. I continue through it, thinking about Joe Strummer.

As I cross under the light, I see out of my peripheral vision a car barreling up the ramp. I realize they are not stopping at the light. They’ve come off the highway and must be going close to 50 mph. I brace for impact.

All is quiet. I spin, lights trace, wheel turns. I whip the wheel to keep myself from flying into the oncoming traffic of the other lane. I do either a 360 or a 720, I’m still not sure which, and I come to a stop in the lane I was in but facing in the opposite direction. Imagine a car parked in a lane facing the wrong way. My brain was boggled.

The car that hit me was a giant American model. They’d taken a left onto Crenshaw, plowed through me and now pulled over on the overpass.

Here’s where things get kooky.

In my head I can see the driver get out of the car and take a few steps in my direction. They are maybe 20 yards away. Perhaps there were two people in the car but I guess I’ll never know. Because he/she got back in their damaged car and took off.

I sat stunned in my crumpled Aveo. An SUV was stopped at the light in the lane going the other direction. We were separated by the divider. The woman leaned out of her car and said, “You should get out of the car…you’re gonna get hit again.”

I thought that seemed like a sensible idea so I put the hazards on and stepped out of the car. I walked around it onto the median strip. I felt soft and over-inflated. I sat down on the ground and called 911. Then I called Mike. He said he was leaving immediately from Venice and would be there in 20 minutes.

I could now see the damage to the passenger side of the car. It was considerable. The car had struck my car right over the back wheel well, which had saved my life. If it had hit me a second sooner it would have caught my car right in the middle and pushed me into oncoming traffic where I’d have been hit head on. As it was the whole left side was punctured and indented from the impact.

More kookiness ensued.

As I sat there, a car came chugging up from the ramp where my hit-and-run attacker had come from. This car was on fire.

A small white car, perhaps a Toyota Celica or something along those lines. It rolled to a stop directly across the street from me and the driver got out. He was a small Mexican man wearing a baseball cap. He ran across the street to a house yelling, “Agua! Agua!” Another man, perhaps his father, came running out with a bucket of water and proceeded to douse the engine. I knew this was a bad idea but I was still too shocked to try to communicate with them. The hissing from the water hitting the hot engine block sounded heinous.

The fire truck came and put the car out. It took a few attempts to explain to the firemen that these two cars were completely unrelated to one another. They asked if I was hurt and I didn’t think that I was. Although my head was ringing and my ears were stuffed with cotton.

Mike came. He waited for me until the cops came which was quite some time. Apparently, if you’re ever in a car accident in LA and need assistance, you have to say that you thought the other person had a gun. Then the cops will rush right over to you. But if there isn’t a gun involved they have better things to do.

Needless to say, it was pretty cut-and-dried since it was a hit-and-run. The extra insurance paid for the car which was totaled. I went back with Mike to his apartment and gingerly went to sleep, but not before I terrified Melody by leaving her a voice message which said something like:

“Hey babe. Got into a car accident. I’m at Mike’s and I’m just gonna go to sleep.”

She freaked out! Pictured me like the folks in the movie who just want to lie down after head trauma. But no, it wasn’t that severe. However, I was rattled to a very intense degree. I was sore all over, very emotional, spacey, irrational…you name it.

We didn’t go see Joe Strummer.

I don’t care about the car. I don’t care about the occasional aches and pains I still get. I don’t care about the shudder when I cross that intersection again, which I do at least 10 times a week.

No. I care that those fuckers drove up the Crenshaw ramp and killed my last chance to see Joe Strummer in person. He’d be dead in a year. They didn’t kill me, though. You hear that, whoever the fuck you are? You didn’t get me.

— Brendan O’Malley

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Present Tense: On Dennis Hopper’s Out of the Blue (1980)

Posted on August 9, 2019 by sheila

My new column for Film Comment is about Dennis Hopper’s wild and nihilistic Out of the Blue, starring Linda Manz, in a definite high watermark for performances by teenagers. She’s an icon, and WAS an icon to me when I was a kid, due to her appearance in a TV movie called Orphan Train (which I wrote up as a novelization, old-timers will remember). I didn’t see Days of Heaven until I was an adult, nor did I see Out of the Blue until I was an adult (and Out of the Blue is very hard to find. It’s almost never screened. Once you see it, you will understand why. This movie is tough, scary, and brutal).

Additionally: I chose to write about this movie not just because it’s great (although that too) but because next week is Elvis Week and … while there are many movies haunted by Elvis (Mystery Train, True Romance, Bubba Ho-Tep, to name a few – Out of the Blue is the most Elvis-haunted movie of them all.

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Review: Light of My Life (2019)

Posted on August 9, 2019 by sheila

Light of My Life, a dystopian father-daughter survival drama, is Casey Affleck’s narrative feature directorial debut. He also wrote and starred. I found it quite effective.

My review of Light of My Life is now up at Rogerebert.com.

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Review: The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019)

Posted on August 9, 2019 by sheila

Your mileage may vary but this film – costarring Shia LaBeouf and newcomer Zac Gottsagen (who has Down Syndrome) worked like gangbusters. I loved it.

My review of The Peanut Butter Falcon is up on Rogerebert.com.

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50 Best Albums, by Brendan O’Malley, #21. Dr. Mars, Up In The Air, Vol. 1

Posted on August 5, 2019 by sheila

My talented brother Brendan O’Malley is an amazing writer and actor. He’s wonderful in the recent You & Me, directed by Alexander Baack. (I interviewed Baack about the film here.) His most recent gig was story editor/writer on the hit series Survivor’s Remorse. Brendan hasn’t blogged in years, but the “content” (dreaded word) is so good I asked if I could import some of it to my blog. He did series on books he loved, and albums he loved. I thought it would be fun to put up some of the stuff here. So we’ll start with his list of 50 Best Albums. I’ll put up one every Monday.

Brendan’s list of 50 Best Albums is part music-critique and part memoir and part cultural snapshot.

I have always loved these essays, because I love to hear my brother talk. I am happy to share them with you!

Preamble for this one: My cousin Liam was talking to me once about the Kinks. We were in some rockabilly biker bar in the lower half of Manhattan. Below Canal Street. He was so eloquent I asked him to write a couple of posts for my site. This was years ago. Here they are: Enjoy Liam, he’s the bomb:

The Strange Effect, a Kink-Sized Obsession
The Strange Effect, a Kink-Sized Obsession, Track 2

50 Best Albums, by Brendan O’Malley

21. Dr. Mars – Up In The Air, Vol. 1

Dr. Mars is a mysterious band. My cousin Liam O’Malley is Dr. Mars. And yet, they remain a band and mysterious.

I’ve started this review three times now and I am finding it hard to express just how this music strikes me. I was going to go song by song and dissect just why each one is a perfect little jewel. But now that I sit down to do that I find something lacking in that approach.

Why? It’s too literal. And this music is anything but literal. It is visceral. To say that Dr. Mars echoes the sound of Bowie, The Beatles, The Ramones, The Clash, T Rex, glam rock, Queen, etc. is to put you in the arena but it doesn’t put you in your actual SEAT. The beauty of Up In The Air, Vol. 1 is that it invokes those sounds you’ve been hearing since you started listening to music but somehow it turns them around, faces them in a new direction, puts them in a new context. So you are at once comforted and exhilarated.

But what pushes this music from pure enjoyment into genius is the tension that exhilaration is faced with when it is paired with the underlying theme of the album. There is a narrative that shoots through the songs, one of a great love challenged by some strange and unwieldy ideas. A man and a woman in an urban landscape wrestle with their suspicion that aliens have landed and are trying to contact them. Dr. Mars himself explained this story to me at one time but I’ve probably telephone-gamed it into something else.

Here is the story as I understand it.

They are in love. She is convinced that aliens are among us. At first he is concerned for her sanity and worries that the woman he loves has lost her mind. She slowly convinces him that she isn’t crazy, that she has seen x,y,z and while she doesn’t have an E.T. in her closet eating Reese’s Pieces, some strange things have certainly been happening. His love for her ushers him into this world of deciphered messages, hidden meanings, as Dr. Mars says, “…scanning for cyphers and clues”.

His willingness to see her point of view sends him into a madness all his own. He yearns to break free from this Earth, to see, to KNOW. So while the idea of aliens might seem B-movie, here it is understated enough to achieve allegory.

By the end of the album they have left all normalcy behind and are ready to board, to vanish, to let their love take them away from everything they’ve ever known.

Scary. Romantic. Funny. And it rocks.

Now, I’m sure that I’ve changed some details here and perhaps Dr. Mars could write a synopsis for me someday, but that isn’t really the point. You could listen to this album without knowing any of this and your response would still be enormous. The territory covered is perfect fodder for anthemic rock songs…love, doubt, fear, regret, sex, and yes, UFO’s.

All great rock and roll front men are mythic figures. They place themselves outside of our experience so that they can better reflect a wider range of human truth. So, sure, Bowie seems to be singing about some cat named Ziggy Stardust. But really, he’s singing about you.

When Dr. Mars imagines himself “seein’ home through the dome/wavin’ back”, we are the ones who have boarded the ship. We are zooming into space forever, leaving all we know behind us in the hopes of some great adventure. We are up in the air.

— Brendan O’Malley

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Review: The Nightingale (2019)

Posted on August 2, 2019 by sheila

The Nightingale – Jennifer Kent’s follow-up to her insanely great debut The Babadook – has been getting great reviews. I, however, was … not so into it.

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July 2019 Viewing Diary

Posted on August 1, 2019 by sheila

Marianne & Leonard: Words of Love (2019; d. Nick Broomfield)
I reviewed this documentary – about the relationship between Marianne Ihlen and Leonard Cohen – for Rogerebert.com.

Leonard Cohen: I’m Your Man (2005; d. Lian Lunson)
I watched this beautiful concert film – directed by Lian Lunson (whom I interviewed about her latest film, Waiting for the Miracle to Come) – the title of which, of course, is taken from a Leonard Cohen song).

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 15 “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” (2010; d. John F. Showalter)
Wow, Kim Rhodes has been on the show for 10 years.

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 16 “Dark Side of the Moon” (2010; d. Jeff Woolnough)
You know what pisses ME off? Bringing back these fucking hunters for … what reason? Hunters who killed Sam in front of Dean and then killed Dean. You think Dean would forgive that? Why would you betray THIS MOMENT? These people in charge over there do not fucking get it. You think I’m nostalgic to see familiar faces? Like … two random assholes who killed the leads? Fuck this shit. Sorry. It pisses me off.

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 17 “99 Problems” (2010; d. Charles Beeson)
This one upsets me: it’s extremely accurate on
1. how cults work and
2. how tyranny operates.
If people are panicked and traumatized enough, they will gravitate towards a strong leader. Good luck trying to stop it.

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 18 “Point of No Return” (2010; d. Philip Sgriccia)
This whole season-long arc – with Lucifer/Sam and Michael/Dean and “will they won’t they” and gathering up the rings of the horsemen – and all that – it’s so intricate in a way, but it’s also so simple. It’s a simple binary, which works on its surface level but also works on that deep-down level, the metaphoric level. Both Sam and Dean considering whether or not to let a celestial being penetrate them. For an entire season. The BALLS Supernatural used to have. But the slow burn of it, and also how Dean eventually makes his choice … it’s just so well done. I love this first scene too mainly because of that green wall and how he is filmed.

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 19 “Hammer of the Gods” (2010; d. Rick Bota)
Worth it for this exchange alone.

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 20 “The Devil You Know” (2010; d. Robert Singer)
Jensen unleashed:

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 21 “Two Minutes to Midnight” (2010; d. John F. Showalter)
Thrilling. And Billie’s okay – I guess? – although the actress is pretty one-note. And she is nothing – NOTHING – compared to the character they created here. So yeah, let’s just kill him off and replace him with someone less interesting. Good plan.

Supernatural, Season 5, episode 22 “Swan Song” (2010; d. Steve Boyum)
Heartbreaking. And, of course, ruined by what was later done to Chuck. One of the many many things about later seasons I have to ignore in order to enjoy earlier seasons – which seems to completely defeat the fucking purpose of later seasons. Why do this? Why ruin arcs from the past? You’re not being edgy or innovative. You’re being destructive.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 1 “Exile on Main St.” (2010; d. Philip Sgriccia)
Love this episode. I was so completely traumatized by it my first time watching it – particularly Sam being back and “different” somehow – plus the awful awful Campbell family – and it’s still upsetting. But it’s very intriguing in re: masculinity, one of my main “ways in” to this series. Ouch. And that opening montage – set to the absolutely perfect song – couldn’t be improved upon.

What Happened Was … (1994; d. Tom Noonan)
Finally – after a couple of false starts over the years – one dating back a decade – I wrote about What Happened Was… for my latest Present Tense column at Film Comment. The film has haunted me ever since I first saw it in 1994 (this year is its 25th anniversary). I was a young woman then, and even though I had a very busy social life then, the film gave me a prophetic chill. It showed me what I feared (and I was right to fear it). When I finally re-watched What Happened Was… – 10 years after first seeing it – it felt even more eerily powerful, especially now that I had miles of road behind me, unlike the first time I saw it. Now here we are in 2019, and this film is still not available to purchase (even though people don’t purchase physical copies of movies anymore, which is very very stupid. You expect corporations to behave honorably and keep things available for streaming? You’re trusting a corporation in terms of your music/movie collection? No thanks.) HOWEVER: What Happened Was… is available now on streaming platforms (I own it on Amazon). The image quality is not good. But it’s good enough.

The Mindy Project, Season 1, episode 5, “Danny Castellano Is My Gynecologist” (2012; d. Peter Lauer)
My sister and I continuing our slow binge-watch, which we can only do when we’re together, which is like twice a month. So much fun, though. Laughing until we WEEP and then texting each other funny lines and moments the following days.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 2 “Two and a Half Men” (2010; d. John F. Showalter)
Not sure about the choice to switcheroo the baby from white to black – hmmmm – but Dean’s protectiveness towards the child was a wonderful counterpoint to everything else going on, in his life, in his head, etc. His reaction to the Campbells. His sense that somethings’ wrong with Sam. His anxiety about Lisa, his sense of obligation, his sense of being torn, his tendency to lie to her/downplay … All of that working together. There are some fans who don’t like “anything to come between the brothers.” I literally do not know what these people think drama IS.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 3 “The Third Man” (2010; d. Robert Singer)
There’s a stick. There’s another small black child in peril. I may be reading into it, but I think there’s some carelessness with the images here. Diversity is excellent. But … think a little bit?

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 4 “Weekend at Bobby’s” (2010; d. Jensen Ackles)
Rufus’ role in this whole episode cracks me up.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 5 “Live Free or Twihard” (2010; d. Rod Hardy)
One of the most fucked-up episodes they ever did. Naturally it’s one of my favorites.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 6 “You Can’t Handle the Truth” (2010; d. Jan Eliasberg)
I love the Soulless Sam arc and how damn LONG they were willing to drag it out. They explored it from so many angles. Dean’s creepy-crawlies. Dean’s secret conversations with Bobby. Sam being totally weird. And here, Veritas Lady (who does a great job) clocks that Sam is … a total ice-cold sociopath. I just love how innovative they were with this particular arc. It was flexible enough that they could even go humorous/absurd with it and have a damn LEPRECHAUN clock Sam’s soullessness. Love Season 6.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 7 “Family Matters” (2010; d. Guy Norman Bee)
Check out the introduction of Purgatory … early on … that won’t really pay off until Season 8. This team was so good at that.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 8 “All Dogs Go to Heaven” (2010; d. Philip Sgriccia)
Creepy shit. Plus this moment …

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 9 “Clap Your Hands If You Believe” (2010; d. John F. Showalter)
Every moment is perfect. “I’ve had time to adjust.” “I feel like I have the crazy ON ME.” “Probing table–” “My GOD don’t say that out loud.” The microwave “ech” “the blech” moment – and Jared Padalecki in general reacting to Ackles’ frenzy. It’s his REACTION that really makes the moments land. “Let’s say … You see it and I don’t …” That’s excellent Straight Man timing.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 10 “Caged Heat” (2010; d. Robert Singer)
I am truly unsure of what they were going for with Castiel and Meg – and I am not as enamored with “the pizza man” as many of you are – and … I mean, Meg killed Ellen and Jo, you know? I don’t know. I love Rachel Miner, as I’ve written before, and she’s a wonderful and DEEPLY ambiguous “heavy” (ambiguity used to be this show’s stock-in-trade) but I just don’t really buy all the “Clarence” stuff. And it’s not because I think the gender-less Castiel is actually in lust with Dean Winchester. Come on now. It’s just that I don’t see Castiel – or Misha Collins, really – in a sexual way at all. So the Meg thing comes completely out of nowhere for me. This has a real Boys’ Club feeling to it, which is not really Supernatural’s regular vibe. I wouldn’t be watching it if every episode felt like Caged Heat.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 11 “Appointment in Samarra” (2010; d. Mike Rohl)
Again: Death is so great. And it’s perfect that, yet again, like has happened a couple of times in Season 6, Dean tries to intervene with Children in Peril. He’s over-identifying and he’s also semi-parenting a kid around this age.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 12 “Like a Virgin” (2011; d. Philip Sgriccia)
Sam’s back! And Dean confronts masculinity – yet again – in one of his ongoing themes in this intriguing season. Get the Impala back out. Impala = Hard Cock. Listen, it may be vulgar but that’s how it’s filmed. Take it up with them. And Jared Padalecki has one of my favorite acting moments in maybe the whole series: the one shot of him after he hears Cas mention casually that “he had no soul.” Watch him again. That’s emotion welling up in him in real time, and THERE – even more than the hug between the brothers – is the pay-off of the entire Soulless Sam arc.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 13 “Unforgiven” (2011; d. David Barrett)
I know every episode that takes place in my home state. This is one of them.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 14 “Mannequin 3: The Reckoning” (2011; d. Jeannot Szwarc)
This is also a catharsis – which I didn’t know how much I needed until it happened. Sam sending Dean off to deal with Lisa, saying “No, I got this.” Again, people who resent things “coming between” the brothers … I don’t get it. The more things between them the better. Relationship is revealed through obstacles/objectives. This is Acting 101 and Screenwriting 101. So here, suddenly, we have Sam being a good brother, getting annoyed at Dean’s weirdness, telling him to pick up the phone, sending Dean off … (meanwhile, Sam is so so tough working this case: so tough with that douchebag guy – the cheekbones and jawlines working alone!). I was like “Oh thank GOD, we get to see the brothers in this OTHER way – where one is ‘dating’ someone and the other is cool about it.” FINALLY: The way it’s left “unfinished” with Ben: Ben laying it on Dean, and it’s TRUE what Ben says. This whole arc – and how it ended – frustrated me. It felt like they didn’t know what to do with Lisa, and so they “wiped” her memory but … how will she account for an entire year of her life missing? Won’t her friends remember Dean? Doesn’t it leave her even MORE at risk? Dumb decision.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 15 “The French Mistake” (2011; d. Charles Beeson)
Absolutely classic. And hilarious every time I watch it. The show doesn’t have a sense of humor anymore, least of all about itself. And honestly, Castiel’s death scene makes me WEEP with laughter, especially his total confusion at the “heavenly” babble coming at him in that alley. He is truly TRYING to understand: “What??” It’s very funny.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 16 “And Then There Were None” (2011; d. Mike Rohl)
This whole episode is extremely disgusting and extremely upsetting. Just the concept of it. Maybe not AS gross as that freakin’ worm inside whats-his-name that needed a sauna to get it out of him. Still: worms penetrating bodies through various orifices: no thank you.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 17 “My Heart Will Go On” (2011; d. Philip Sgriccia)
I didn’t care for this one on first viewing. Not sure why. I’ve grown to really like it, as well as appreciate its thoughts on Fate, which is such an important concept in the Supernatural universe. Also we have the glory of “Yeah. I think 6 seconds is too soon”. Unfortunately now, though, we have learned that Sam is a secret Celine Dion fan, which – I’m sorry – is just fucking stupid. And disrespectful. And I know I said this before: but every time Elvis has been mentioned in the entire 14 years of this show – every single time – it’s been Dean saying it. You KNOW I’m on top of this. No way does Sam say Elvis is his favorite, no way is Celine his favorite. Ugh. So stupid. The new team has “the lyrics” (sort of) but not the music. They knew “Celine” was joked about in this episode – this song referenced, etc. – but they didn’t get the deeper resonances, they thought “we” – i.e. the fans – would applaud them making this connection. I just don’t understand what is going on over there. Someone on Twitter said they thought Sam’s favorite band might be Radiohead and I thought that was a pretty brilliant choice.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 18 “Frontierland” (2011; d. Guy Norman Bee)
“You goin to a hoedown?” “You got a new shirt.” “I look good.” The whole obsession with Dean’s clothes – like constantly – every single person they encounter mentions his clothes – while Sam just blends in – naturally – I can’t take it. It’s so funny to me. Yet another “Dean deals with ideas of masculinity” sub-themes of Season 6.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 19 “Mommy Dearest” (2011; d. John F. Showalter)
So I’ve gone on and on about how Castiel is actually NOT the “best friend they’ve ever had” but repeatedly the WORST friend they’ve ever had. Listen, you break Sam’s brain on purpose – just to get him out of the way? I would never forgive that. And here his treachery begins. I think Dean’s “you’re dead to me” was long overdue.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 20 “The Man Who Would Be King” (2011; d. Ben Edlund)
Interesting, I guess? But it speaks volumes that Castiel needs his OWN episodes to show what’s going on with him, because he’s so inexpressive a character, and already he is working against the Winchesters, already he is having his own internal spinoff. This is the most dramatic example. It’s thrilling when Bobby, Sam and Dean trap him and honestly it should have been the end of Castiel. Or breaking Sam’s brain should have been the final straw. You know what would be REALLY interesting? If Castiel was actually the Big Bad all along. Not Chuck. Not anybody else. But Castiel. It’ll never happen (neither will Destiel), but that would actually have huge dramatic potential. Honestly, Castiel IS the Big Bad towards the end of Season 7 and all through Season 8.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 21 “Let It Bleed” (2011; d. John F. Showalter)
Intriguing, but … chickened out. However: this was a long long arc, the Lisa-Ben arc – started in Season 3, for God’s sake – when they had a showrunner who knew how to develop arcs – so okay, they bungled the ending. Endings are hard to nail.

Supernatural, Season 6, episode 22 “The Man Who Knew Too Much” (2011; d. Robert Singer)
Wonderful episode. Hitchcock would appreciate the levels, including the nod in the title.

Lying & Stealing (2019; d. Matt Aselton)
I reviewed this heist movie for Rogerebert.com.

Chernobyl, episode 1-5 (2019)
So well done. The first scene really shows you the concept of George Orwell’s 2+2=4, not 5. And the pressure to say “5.” Haunting. I lived through this whole thing. It was terrifying.

The Skeleton Twins (2014; d. Craig Johnson)
I so love this film and both of their performances. And Luke Wilson! It’s so difficult to “just” play a “good guy,” a genuinely nice good guy. Watch Wilson. Fantastic film. Darker than it was marketed, really.

Hateship Loveship (2014; d. Liza Johnson)
I feel like not too many people saw this. I reviewed for Rogerebert.com. I re-watched it to look for the “back-ting” moment I knew was there.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006; d. Marc Forster)
God, almighty this film. It’s been a while. It destroyed me. Yet again.

The Letter (1940; d. William Wyler)
One of Bette Davis’ best performances. One of the best performances on film ever.

Welcome to Me (2014; d. Shira Piven)
Wiig gives one of my favorite performances in recent years. She was on a roll around here. This and Hateship Loveship and Skeleton Twins in the same year? With three completely different characters? I love her so much. She doesn’t give a shit about being liked. This puts her in rare company.

Love & Mercy (2014; d. Bill Pohlad)
I don’t know how many times I’ve seen this so far. I love it. It’s become one of those “pop it in if you need to relax” movies. Not that it’s a relaxing movie. It’s not at all. Elizabeth Banks’ performance: hugely un-related mainly because critics don’t know how to assess acting. Critics think “listening” is a given. They don’t know how good she is at it, how what she is doing in this movie is basically helping CREATE John Cusack’s performance. This is the subtlety of collaboration that – forgive me – the majority of critics just don’t know about at all.

Russian Doll, episode 1-8 (2019)
Even better on a binge-watch. Brutal. Propulsive. Thrilling. Smart. And what a thrill to really get a sense of New York City: you can smell it, feel it, the neighborhoods populated with randos, the provincial quality to it (yeah, you heard that right), the tight-knit groups that form. “You fucked the Gingerbread Man?” It’s heartbreaking. I am very glad to hear they will be continuing.

The Mountain (2019; d. Rick Alverson)
A challenging film but worth it! I reviewed for Ebert.

Entertainment (2015; d. Rick Alverson)
Like many of Alverson’s films, Entertainment is designed to try your patience. I like it though.

Dawson’s Creek, Season 6, episode 2, 4, 6, 7, 8, 11, 13, 14, 17, 18, 19 , 21 (2002-2003)
Okay, okay. I actually had never seen Jensen Ackles’ stint on this show as boyfriend to Michelle Williams, so figured I would check it out. I was never a Dawson’s Creek person, I don’t think I have watched one episode, so I completely had NO IDEA what was going on. I was like, “My GOD these teenagers talk about their feelings a lot!” And James van der Beek’s character was suddenly … an assistant director “in Hollywood” … (Oh, and the “director” was the Irish dude who ran the poker game in Supernatural which took away/gave you years). And suddenly Michelle Williams got involved – sort of? – with a recently sober guy who worked at a hotline, or a student-run help line – and … sorry, he gave MANY mixed signals. “I don’t date.” “Oh sorry but I can’t help but flirt.” And finally they hooked up, at which time she seemed to immediately want to stop having sex with him. Jensen is still learning how to act. He’s not quite IN his eyes yet. But she’s so good, he rises to her occasion. You can see him do it. He’s got moments of humor – in between the lines as I keep observing – and he’s slowly starting to free himself up. It was fun to watch, even though I had no idea what the fuck was going on with all of these people! Don’t they ever go to CLASS?

The Mindy Project, Season 1, episode 8-16 (2012-13)
Shrieking hilarity. The show is so good. The writing so … HER. It’s specific. Everyone is very … obnoxious? But human. I am really liking it.

Transit (2019; d. Christian Petzold)
One of the best films of the year.

Apollo 11 (2019; d. Todd Douglas Miller)
New documentary. So good. Filled with a true sense of import and awe, the music adding to it, much never-before-seen footage, goosebump-inducing, good to spend time with humans who actually want to progress things forward, look forward.

Her Smell (2019; d. Alex Ross Perry)
I really didn’t like this and am baffled by some of the good reviews. To me, it felt very sloppy, and some of the actors weren’t “up to” the task of what they were called upon to create. Moss is clearly “up to” the task, and she was very good, but I couldn’t help but think of a young Gena Rowlands doing this role and … Moss is fine, but there were moments too where I felt her hurrying the dialogue/monologues – skipping over things quickly (it’s extremely over-written) – and not quite entering into it. It didn’t feel like the rantings of a woman on drugs in a psychotic break. It felt like an actress pumping herself up into a state of hysteria. So no. I really did not like this and found it a huge slog.

Bonnie & Clyde (1967; d. Arthur Penn)
So iconic and so imitated it’s hard to see it fresh. This past viewing I was just laid FLAT by Dunaway. Holy mackerel.

Enough Said (2013; d. Nicole Holofcener)
This movie is good on so many levels: it’s very very funny at times, but it’s also deeply sad. And her behavior is so ugly and hurtful, and he’s so damn good … it’s hard to imagine where they might go from there. She is so fantastic. And when he says: “This may sound dramatic but you broke my heart. And I’m too old for that shit.” And you can SEE it happen. You can SEE his heart break.

Megan Leavey (2017; d. Gabriela Cowperthwaite)
I reviewed this for Ebert and had such an intense reaction to it (here’s my revew) I have been hesitant to re-visit it. Happy to report: I was just as much of a wreck this time as I was two years ago. It’s an amazing movie.

Kicking and Screaming (1995; d. Noah Baumbach)
St. Elmo’s Fire for the 90s. Baumbach’s first. The most self-conscious self-aware post-college kids on the planet. Great cast.

Mr. Jealousy (1997; d. Noah Baumbach)
Minor almost-hidden Baumbach. Eric Stoltz, a Baumbach favorite, takes center stage (he doesn’t really work that well as a leading man: he’s excellent in supporting or small roles: think Pulp Fiction but also Kicking and Screaming.) The reason to see this is Annabella Sciorra’s performance. She’s so good. And fuck Harvey Weinstein, fuck what he did to this talented actress.

Highball (1997; d. Noah Baumbach)
Filmed in 6 days. And it shows. Some really bad acting going on (not from Sheedy). People playing (over-playing) “characters.” Hard to watch.

The Squid and the Whale (2005; d. Noah Baumbach)
I mean, you feel like these kids are doomed. Jeff Daniels is great. Haven’t you met a guy like him before? I feel like I AM him sometimes and those are terrible moments. Be self-aware. Don’t be like Jeff Daniels in Squid and the whale!

Margot at the Wedding (2007; d. Noah Baumbach)
Clearly I’m on a Baumbach kick. This one is slightly annoying. But Jack Black is so good. I mean, they’re all good, I just don’t really like this one.

Greenberg (2010; d. Noah Baumbach)
This is my favorite Baumbach, really. It’s extremely unpleasant. Baumbach has a sour personality, over-analytical, dreadful in many ways. Don’t try to cutesy it up and make it lovable. Let it be awful. Greenberg makes me so uncomfortable.

Frances Ha (2012; d. Noah Baumbach)
The real beginning of the Greta Gerwig Era in Baumbach’s life. Think it worked out pretty well for him, huh?

Once Upon a Time … in Hollywood (2019; d. Quentin Tarantino)
It made me very sad. I am haunted by it. I need to see it again.

The Nightingale (2019; d. Jennifer Kent)
Review goes up tomorrow!

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Book: She Found It at the Movies, available for pre-order

Posted on July 30, 2019 by sheila

I contributed a chapter to She Found It at the Movies (love the title, echoing and expanding on Pauline Kael’s famous I Lost It at the Movies), a book edited by Christina Newland, about women, desire, and the movies. It’s pretty cool, too: all the contributors are women. I chose a pretty fun topic, which I’ve touched on many times in my writing already, but never in a concentrated essay only on said topic. I look forward to seeing what everybody else – a murderer’s row of critics – wrote about. Due for publication in March, 2020. It’s available for pre-order – maybe only in the UK as of now, not sure.

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