Teza and the Surreal Cinema Experience

Early last year I read a BBC News article about an Ethiopian film, Haile Gerima's Teza, that won the highest award at the Pan-African Film and Television Festival (as well as a few awards in Venice the year prior, but losing the Golden Lion to The Wrestler). Considering my father is from Ethiopia, and considering this film was about the political tumult that took place after he left the country three and a half decades ago, and considering that this story has not been shown on film before, and considering I've never been to Ethiopia (and he hasn't been back), I was, to say the least, a little obsessed with tracking this film down.

Assuming that a full U.S. theatrical release was unlikely, I immediately set a Google Alert for the film so I could find out what was happening with it and when it would be released in any format. In the meantime I also contacted the production company on numerous occasions in the hope of receiving a screener copy to review, but never received a response. It was a shot in the dark, but it was still a shot. About six months ago the alerts started picking up speed, and earlier this year the film finally landed on American shores. Fittingly, it would play in a theater in Washington, D.C., home to Gerima and the largest Ethiopian population in the country.

But would it ever come to Minnesota? Impossible, I thought. It bounced around the East Coast (picking up raves along the way), however, and all of a sudden it began moving westward, arriving in Minneapolis last week (thank you, Minnesota Film Arts!). I gathered my family, including my dad, and we set off to Ethiopia on what truly was a unique cinematic adventure.

As Teza progressed, I had the surreal sensation that I was seeing my family history on film. Not a direct representation of it, but a portrait of the place in which my parents lived at a critical juncture in their lives (and also where my brother was born). It displayed the geography and language and extremely dangerous political climate; ultimately, much of what happened in this film affected my parent's decision to leave the country, first living in Austria (my mother's home) before arriving in California, where I was born.

Putting it together, then, I was literally relating my existence to much of the history portrayed in Teza. When you're cognizant of a connection like that while watching it, cognizant of the fact that changes here or decisions there could have significantly altered your life, well it's a bizarre experience.

Teza is a ravishing epic about Ethiopia's rarely discussed modern history, and while it's not a perfect film (of all things, the acting is a bit wooden at times), I'll never forget the experience of sitting in the theater and watching this film while considering that what was on screen actually led to me sitting in the theater and watching this film.

Have you ever had a similar "meta" experience with a film closely related to your family or your life? Are there movies that capture historical events or social changes that reach you on a deeper level because of your direct (or indirect) connection to them?

Concerning the Next Decade: An Open Letter to Hollywood

May 2010

Hollywood, et.al.

N Highland Ave & Hollywood Boulevard

Hollywood, CA 90028

Dear Hollywood Producers, Writers, and Directors,

I write to you at this critical time on behalf of the worldwide movie-going public. They have not requested that I write this letter, but the situation is urgent and, selfless hero that I am, I accept that it is my duty to save the world of cinema using the judicious power of this blog. Maybe you'll make a movie out of my story one day. You have a lot of bad ideas like that, actually, which is why I'm writing this letter.

The American movie industry is, depending on who you ask, either in the midst of a record-breaking profit bonanza or an apocalyptic creative crisis. You obviously know the former to be true as you are currently being read this letter by your assistant, who works much harder than you give her credit for and who doesn't have the heart to tell you that the eco-luxe boutique lodge she just booked for you in Koh Kood lacks an on-site acupuncturist, or that the Maserati dealer just called to let you know that the platinum gear shifter you requested won't be available for two more months, or even that the organic wheatgrass smoothie you're drinking right now isn't actually organic.

Indeed, in spite of your obscene wealth you really do have a lot of the daily inconveniences and problems that wear us plebeians down on a daily basis. I'm not sure how you cope, but for relief from life's boredom and pain many of us head to the comfort of our local movie theater. There, we find ourselves presented with a variety of new releases each week provided by you and your peers. A few offerings are worthwhile but most are offensively bad - not that you would likely know, since the only thing you're watching is your bank account balloon as our hard-earned dollars pour in.

Good Times in 2009

Sometimes the experience at the theater can be even more memorable than the movie you see. Here are some of my notable movie-going memories from 2009, continued in the same boring format as the last two years ('o8, '07): 

JANUARY:
Che (The Uptown): I often brag that I never get sick, and that's still partially true since I didn't feel sick at Che, I felt dead. Some kind of trippy head/chest flu got into my system and germinated during the course of this movie, which if you haven't seen it, is about 12 days long. I desperately wanted to leave during the intermission between Part 1 and 2, but my fiancee was enjoying it, and besides, I'd paid $18 a head for this opportunity. I struggled through the second half and saw Guevera himself eventually become as ill as me - that was some consolation.

Paul Blart: Mall Cop (Theatres at Mall of America): Yes, I was one of the many surprising millions who saw this in the theater, but no, I did not pay for it. It was out of obligation, to review for the paper, and my fiancee has yet to forgive me for bringing her along. In a fortunate twist of fate, a planned interview with Kevin James was canceled at the last minute, saving me from eating crow weeks later since I'm sure I would have asked him, "What are your plans after this movie bombs at the box office?". Watch for the sequel in 2011. 

The Wrestler (The Uptown): I trudged to the Uptown alone after work on a bitterly cold January night, not really having any idea what to expect from this movie. An awe-inspiring performance by Mickey Rourke and one of the best endings of the year left me greatly impressed and, weeks later, shocked when a Best Picture nomination wasn't announced. 

Notorious (Union Station - Washington, D.C.): In the nation's capital during Inauguration Weekend, I went with a group of friends to what was rumored to be one of the louder (as in people talking) theaters in the D.C. area. Didn't really happen, but I wouldn't have minded anyway as I was absorbed in the music and the surprisingly comfortable leather seats.

FEBRUARY:

Coraline - 3D (AMC Rosedale): I don't know why I agreed to see this in 3D considering my skepticism of the technology, but this was actually the best 3D experience I think I've ever had (I haven't yet seen Avatar in 3D). The story was pretty engrossing to boot, and unfortunately I think my prediction was true that it would be mostly forgotten in what shaped up to be a banner year for animated movies. 

Friday the 13th (AMC Southdale): On assignment again for the Star Tribune, I persuaded my reluctant fiancee to come along to a movie we both know she would never otherwise see. I gave it a terrible review, despite the giddy reactions from people around us in the theater, including one girl who gushed, "That was the best movie!" on our way out. I felt like an über movie snob in that place. 

Oscar Animated Shorts (The Lagoon): I fell in love with the theatrical experience of the animated short nominees a couple of years ago, and the 2009 show was a real treat. Probably the most moving theater experiences I had of the year was sniffling along with the rest of the audience during the closing credits of the eventual winner, La Maison En Petites Cubes. It was a masterpiece.

Oak St. Cinema: Out Like a Lamb

Well that was pretty anticlimactic. From a firework to a fire to a flame to a fizzle, the storied Oak St. Cinema will unofficially be closing down this month, in case you haven't heard. The news came out a couple weeks ago in a release from Minnesota Film Arts (the nonprofit that owns and operates the theater), as well as an accompanying article in the Star Tribune. But as it happens I found out about the closing over a month ago when, tasked with reviewing an upcoming weekend series at the Oak for the Strib, I stopped by MFA's office above the theater to pick up a screener of Citizen Havel. I was shocked to see that the moving process was already underway, but I kept my word that I wouldn't spill the beans about MFA's impending relocation to St. Anthony Main. 

It wasn't a huge secret and nobody would have believed me anyway considering the rumors that have swirled around this situation for the last decade (including my own premature obituary almost two years ago), but I kept mum anyway even if I wanted to urge readers of the Strib to check out that series at what might be their last-ever chance to visit the Oak. But the news remained hidden, and who knows, deep down maybe I didn't even believe it was actually going to happen.

Well it did, with really no fanfare at all, and in this transitional period before the "new" MFA reemerges at St. Anthony, I've realized I have the odd distinction of having written the last-ever published review of a film series at a theater that was the bedrock of the film community in the Twin Cities for decades. The seasonally shown Swedish film Ronia, the Robber's Daughter is playing through next week, but by all accounts there will never be a curated series at the Oak like the one I previewed earlier this month.

Getafilm Gallimaufry: Amreeka, Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Road, and Anticipating Avatar

[Note: This series includes scattered thoughts on various movie-related topics. I was looking for a word that started with the letter "g" that means collection or assortment, but lest you think I'm some elitist wordsmith, know that I'd never heard of "gallimaufry" and I don't even know how to say it, but it was the only other option the thesaurus provided aside from "goulash" (too foody) and "garbage" (no).]

_______________________________________________________________

Amreeka (B)  

Amreeka doesn't show you anything you haven't seen before in the immigrant/cross-cultural dramedy genre (and it is a genre, or at least a developing one). But few immigrants' stories are identical, and dismissing Amreeka as "just another one of those immigrant movies" is about as short-sighted as, for example, assuming all Spanish-speaking immigrants are Mexicans. The fact is that Amreeka, while not entirely unique, still offers memorable insights into post-9/11 immigration in America, particularly for those families coming from the Middle East (in this case, Palestinians to Illinois).

The film was written and directed by Cherien Dabis, a young Palestinian-American filmaker recently named by Variety as one of "Ten Directors to Watch". Dabis certainly presents the film with the authority of someone who has experienced the story, and her screenplay is balanced with equal amounts of tragedy and comedy. While the narrative is somewhat inconsistent in terms of character development, you find yourself genuinely rooting for Munah and Fadi Farah from the first few minutes - a sign of thoughtful writing. I have to admit I'm a little tired of seeing Hiam Abbass worked to death as apparently the only woman of her age Hollywood ever thinks to cast as "Strong-willed Middle Eastern/Persian Woman #1", but she nonetheless delivers in her role every time. 

Theater Seens: Jurassic Park

If my memory serves me correctly, Jurassic Park was the first movie I saw in a movie theater three times. I've done so with a few movies since (School of Rock being one of them), but I'd never done it before that summer of 1993. For a 12-year old boy it offered a veritable trifecta of awesomeness: 1.) child characters that I could relate to during the fun moments and feel braver and older than in the scary moments; 2.) John Williams' majestic score (just listen to that thing, chills from the first note of the prelude!) for which I would soon be learning to play exhilarating timpani rhythm in the percussion section of my middle school band, and 3.) action-packed adventure, complete with real, living dinosaurs.

It wasn't that the dinosaurs just looked real, it was that they were real, at least for a few moments in my mind. Reflecting back on this movie, I am convinced it was one of the three movies released in the 1990's that changed cinematic visual effects forever, the other two being James Cameron's Terminator 2: Judgement Day and James Cameron's Titanic. (As I mentioned in the 2009 movie forecast, I'm hopeful that Cameron will once again deliver an unprecedented sight with Avatar; no, I will not watch a trailer.)

The visual effects in Jurassic Park were so awe-inspiring that they weren't even shown in the trailers - a strategy that studios would be wise to consider to help build word of mouth advertising these days. Interesting to consider, isn't it - a massive budget and not even a money shot to get people excited? In the teaser trailer you saw in late 1992, and in the theatrical trailer that whet your appetite prior to the film's June 1993 release, you didn't see a single dinosaur. Watch them below- just a glimpse of T-Rex's foot, a silhouette, snout and claw of a Velociraptor, the back of a Triceratops, and side view of the head of a Brontosaurus (or maybe it's a Brachiosaurus; my elementary school education is fading), but never a full-on dino shot. The theatrical version might have been the best trailer of the decade in that sense that it showed a lot of facial reactions, but no sense of what these characters were reacting to.

Getafilm Gallimaufry: Lorna, Basterds, Slumdog, and Sellouts

[Note: This series is comprised of scattered thoughts on various movie-related topics. I was simply looking for a word that started with the letter "g" that means collection or assortment. Lest you think I'm some elitist wordsmith, I'd never heard of "gallimaufry" and I don't even know how to say it, but it was the only other option the thesaurus provided aside from "goulash" (too foody) and "garbage" (no).]

I suppose I should explain my reasoning for this since it's the first time around. I'm basically imagining these to be mini-reviews and commentaries on all kinds of movie bits that don't really deserve their own post. Sometimes I have an opinion about a recent movie but I don't feel like writing a proper review. Other times I have a random thought or remembrance about a movie, or I read an article or blog post that stirs an idea in my mind. I figure if I record them here I'm less likely to forget them. Here goes...

___________________________________________________

Lorna's Silence (A-)

Local film critic Colin Covert recently used the term "ethical thriller" to describe the film genre that includes movies like Lorna's Silence. I love that categorization, and if this is what the Dardenne brothers are masters of then I need to see more of their films, probably starting with the much buzzed about L'enfant from a few years ago.

There's something about this kind of puzzle-piece filmmaking that gets me every time: no setup, no introduction to the characters, no sense about anything at all. We're just blindly dropped in the middle of the story, with only our critical thinking ability, patience, and focused attention to lead us out. If you like to be spoon fed plot details, this is obviously not the kind of movie for you.

Two other great nuggets about this movie are its exploration of illegal immigration (Albanians in Belgium, a refreshing break from the norm) and the revelatory performance by Arta Dobroshi as Lorna, who looks so much different in the photo gallery on her IMDb profile that I wouldn't have thought it was the same person. Even more unbelievable is the fact that this is only her third acting role. It earned her a Best Actress nomination at the European Film Awards but she lost, somewhat deservedly, to Kristin Scott Thomas in I've Loved You So Long.

___________________________________________________

Tarantino and a Terrific Trio

I didn't think a movie could be dissected to death more than The Dark Knight was last year, but here Inglourious Basterds is, another movie that draws a primarily male fanbase like kittens to fresh milk. Or Nazis to fresh milk, as it were.

I'm not a Tarantino fanboy, having passively watched the Kill Bills and skipping Grindhouse/Death Proof entirely (something I'm sure I'll have to remedy since the feature length version of Machete is due out in the next year). But I love his movies from the 90's, and to the extent that Inglourious Basterds is like those movies, well I love it, too. So that's about half the movie, and the rest I could do without. Even though the majority of dialogue in Tarantino movies is eye-rollingly witty banter between killer and victim, it still makes for an entertaining show (repetitive and increasingly stale with each movie, but entertaining nonetheless).

Though I can't deny the talent this guy has behind the camera, I also can't help but think he would be absolute repulsive in casual conversation. Part of it has to do with what seems like a real fetish with violence, and part of it has to do with quotes like this: (on Landa) "I knew Landa was one of the best characters I’ve ever written...I literally had to consider I might have written an unplayable part."; (on the misspelling of the film's title) "Here's the thing. I'm never going to explain that. You do an artistic flourish like that, and to explain it would just take the piss out of it and invalidate the whole stroke in the first place."

Could he be any more smug?

Variations on my facial expression if I were in a conversation with Quentin Tarantino...

At least we can be thankful the guy doesn't act in his own movies. On the contrary, he casts the perfect actors to play his "unplayable" characters. Christophe Waltz (left) is an absolute revelation, a force to be reckoned with both in the film and in the Oscar race. It's at least the best performance in the last two years, and arguably better than DD-L's Daniel Plainview.

Daniel Brühl (middle) was driving me crazy throughout Inglourious Basterds. I knew I had seen him in another movie, I knew I had greatly enjoyed him in another movie, and I had no idea what it was. 2 Days in Paris? Hmm, yes but no. The Bourne Ultimatum? No...ah, of course! The Edukators, an UMOTM if there ever was one.

And then there is Michael Fassbender who has, with Hunger and Inglourious Basterds, quite possibly risen to the top of my "must-watch" list, perhaps bumping Christian Bale out of the spot he's held for the last few years. This guy is absolutely terrific in some really challenging roles. I'm not crazy about his upcoming movies, but I'll deal.

As superb as these three actors are in Basterds, their combined excellence is almost negatively outweighed by Eli Roth's cartoonish, buffoonish, look-I'm-in-the-same-movie-as-Brad-Pitt smirkiness. It's unbearable.

For my thoughts on Inglourious Basterds as a whole, I'll direct you to the excellent review written by Manohla Dargis.

___________________________________________________

Revisiting the Slumdog Soundtrack

Some songs from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack came up on my MP3 player the other day. I hadn't heard them for a few months but found that I enjoyed them just as much as when my giddiness about the movie was at its peak. I also realized that said giddiness about the movie was partly due to the music of A.R. Rahman. If you didn't like the music in this movie, it must have been hard to connect with it in an emotional or otherwise meaningful way. In other words, all of the people who hated this movie (and boy, they were a vocal group, weren't they?) probably hated, or at least disliked, the music as well.

___________________________________________________

Sold Out, Shut Out

A couple of weeks ago was a free screening of Into Temptation, a locally-filmed drama starring Jeremy Sisto and Kristin Chenoweth. The trailer shows some great shots of Minneapolis, which piqued my interest much more than the story of a suicidal prostitute and the priest that tries to save her. Of course I only watched the trailer after the fact, so I guess I'm not sure why I went in the first place if the story didn't grab me.

Turns out it grabbed a lot of other people's interest, though, because the Edina was packed to the gills. I found out the hard way, showing up a few minutes before showtime to find that a waiting list had formed for no shows and empty seats. A seat opened here, a couple seats opened there. The name above me on the list got in; I didn't. Since I was the last one on the list, that means that I was literally the only person who showed up for this movie and didn't get to see it.

It was my own fault of course (my excuse this time: I was getting my bike fixed and running late), and it's definitely not the first time this has happened. My refusal to watch trailers, even inside the theater, means that I usually time my arrival to my seat for 10-12 minutes after the posted showtime, or 15-20 minutes for summer blockbusters that have up to 47 trailers before the movie. For screenings like Into Temptation, I usually show up "right on time", meaning right at the stated showtime, not 10 minutes early like a normal person.

So it's always a guessing game as to where I'll be able to sit in the theater, if I'll truly miss the last preview or, in some cases, if I'll even get into the theater at all. I rarely go to the movies on the busiest nights (Fri/Sat), so when I'm shut out because of a sellout on a weeknight I'm usually pretty frustrated. Makes no sense, I know. How can I complain about something that's my own fault?

Edina Cinema Celebrates 75 Years

I'm extremely late in highlighting this, but for those who haven't been following along with the local calendar, tomorrow marks the beginning of festivities celebrating the 75th anniversary of the Edina Cinema. I never went to the Edina growing up here, and had it not been acquired by Landmark Theatres in 2003, that would probably still be true. But since moving back, I've have to visit it with some frequency. The new releases definitely lean toward foreign, documentary,and generally more "mature" films (Yoo-Hoo, Mrs. Goldberg instead of Inglourious Basterds), but that's not necessarily a bad thing.

More to come in a future edition of Local Theater Love, but in the meantime here is a copy of the flyer outlining the weekend events, as well as a history of the theater taken from Cinema Treasures. It was submitted by one Bryan Krefft and in the comments you will find some corrections and links to older photos of the theater. Matt Gamble may have an insider's perspective as well:

"The Edina opened in 1934, seating 1300, and was designed by the firm of Liebenberg & Kaplan in flamboyant Art Deco style. It cost between $80,000 and $100,000 to erect. At the time, it was the largest theater in suburban Minneapolis.

Though initial reaction by the citizens of Edina to a glitzy movie house was mixed at best, especially to a glittering marquee in downtown Edina (which was remedied by switching the design of the marquee from a standard canopy marquee to a tower marquee), it was an almost immediate success.

The Edina boasted all of the most modern technology of the day, including hearing devices for the hard of hearing. However, it also featured enough glamour and luxury to remind patrons of the downtown movie palaces of earlier years, such as a large stage, a 300 seat balcony and seating for 1000 on the orchestra level, air-conditioning, a large fireplace in the lobby for the cold Minnesota winters, murals in the lobby depicting old Edina, stylish Art Deco furniture, and even a nursery for children.

In 1951, during a severe wind storm, the towering marquee was bent in half but soon repaired. However, three decades later, when a twister hit Edina, the theater's marquee was totally destroyed, but was recreated in 1981 and is now a listed historic landmark.

The Edina was twinned and remodeled in 1976, and it was planned that the Edina 2 would now screen art and foreign fare; however, this wouldn't actually come to fruition until much later. In the late 70s, the Edina was triplexed.

In 1988, the theater's then-operator, Cineplex Odeon closed the Edina 3 and all but its Art Deco landmark facade and marquee were torn down. A modern, two level fourplex was built behind the facade, opening in 1989.

Loews Cineplex shuttered the Edina in January of 2003, but in March 2003, the theater was acquired by the Landmark Theatres chain, and finally became the art house that it was originally intended to become in the late 70s."

I plan on attending the world premiere of Into Temptation tomorrow night, and hopefully at least one of the weekend shows. The Edina may not be my first theater of choice in the Cities, but it has history and its own charm, and all things considered it's a pretty impressive achievement to last 75 years in the movie theater industry. So I say, Happy Birthday.

8th Annual Square Lake Film & Music Festival

Before summer officially comes to a close in Minnesota, there's one last outdoor film gathering worth drawing your attention to. This Saturday, Aug. 15, the 8th Annual Square Lake Film & Music Festival will take place in Square Lake County Park, near Stillwater. This outdoor arts event celebrates local music and experimental film from the always dynamic Twin Cities arts community.

This year, more than 40 locally made short films will be featured in between live music acts by local performers including The Bad Plus, Roma di Luna, Charlie Parr, Zebulon Pike, and Aby Wolf. The films are screened in competition, and are will be judged by a jury comprised of Shawn Otto (screenwriter of House of Sand and Fog), Jeff Stonehouse and Trace Beaulieu of Mystery Science Theater 3000, Gayle Knutson (local doc director) and Tom Schroeder, animation professor at MCAD. The films will be shown in an indoor theater during the 30-minute stage transition times between musical performances on the outdoor stage. Once it is dark the films will be shown outdoors on a 16' x 27' screen, and a specially commissioned film score for The Adventures of Prince Achmed will be unveiled in a live performance by the International Novelty Gamelan ensemble.

Here are the pertinent details...

WEBSITE: http://www.squarelakefestival.com

LOCATION:
The Square Lake Festival is held just a short distance away from Square Lake County Park, boasting "the finest beach in the metro area". The address of the festival is 13359 Partridge Rd. No, Stillwater, MN 55082, and NOT inside of Square Lake Park. The festival is near to (.5 mile), but not inside the county park.

SCHEDULE:
10:00 AM Festival bike ride departs from HUB bike COOP and Sibley Bike Depot.
1:30 PM Festival gate opens
2:00-2:45 PM Aby Wolf
2:45-3:15 PM Local Film Showcase
3:15-4:00 PM Orange Mighty Trio
4:00-4:30 PM 48 HR Film Project Showcase
4:30-5:15 PM Charlie Parr
5:15-5:45 PM Local films
5:45-6:30 PM Zebulon Pike
6:30-7:00 PM Local films
7:00-7:45 PM Roma di Luna
7:45-8:15 PM Local films
8:15-9:00 PM The Bad Plus Set I
9:00-9:15 PM Set Break/Films
9:15-10:00 PM The Bad Plus Set II
10:00-10:30 PM Local Film Showcase
10:30-11:15 PM International Novelty Gamelan film score
11:30- whenever Night Owl films

TICKETS:
As of last week, only about 100 of the 400 tickets remained. Online tickets can still be purchased here through Thursday for $20, and any remaining tickets can be bought at the door for $30. Also, festival director Paul Creager is rewarding people who bike to the festival with $5 tickets.

This is a great local arts endeavor and if you're looking for something unique to do this weekend it could be well worth your time to head out to Square Lake...

On-Screen Violence: Absorbed or Ignored?

Filmmaking irony - the movie about nonviolence features more disturbing violence...

A few months ago I was flipping channels when I came across Ridley Scott's suffocatingly macho Black Hawk Down. I came in right after one of the shootouts on the streets of Mogadishu, and the American soldiers were collecting their dead and wounded. One of the soldiers was severed in half, another was simply in pieces - a helmet here, a blown-off hand on the ground there. Scott took his sweet time focusing in on these bloody casualties of war, no doubt attempting to make us experience a soldier's horror as we gobbled our popcorn and slurped our soda.

It didn't work, at least for me. I hardly reacted while watching these scenes, and I certainly didn't cringe in the same way that I remembered cringing when I saw it in the theater. Why wasn't I bothered by this graphic, based-on-true-life violence in Black Hawk Down? I didn't know, and it was an odd realization.

Flash forward a couple of months, and I'm watching CNN just after the Iranian presidential election results are announced. I follow the story for a couple of days (as I'd recently seen Letters to the President) and, as the protests begin heating up, I see a brief news flash about a protester being shot and killed in the street. This fact doesn't faze me (it happens frequently in many countries), but yet I'm drawn to the significance of it happening in Iran at this time and under the heavy load of state censorship.

Fatefully curious, I go online to read more about what happened (it was still breaking news at the time), and in literally no time at all I find myself almost accidentally watching a video that will over the course of the next few weeks be played repeatedly around the world. Many of you may have now seen it - the death of Neda Agha-Soltan. (The photo used here is from the comprehensive Wikipedia page about the incident, the simple existence of which proves how bizarre of a future is in store for us with cell phone videos and YouTube.)

Because the story was not yet well known and the video not yet widely seen, I really didn't know what I was watching in the first few seconds. Eventually, and ultimately, I have to consider Neda's death the most disturbing footage I've seen since watching the live destruction of the WTC towers on 9/11. Considering the saturation of "torture porn" movies, beheading videos, "Faces of Death" and otherwise increasingly violent video games and movies in the last seven years, some of you might find my statement outrageous. But in fact I've gone to great lengths to avoid all of that stuff, so seeing this video and knowing it was real (as opposed to United 93, which was nearly as unbearable but still ultimately fake), well it shook me to the core.

I felt ill for a couple of days. I couldn't sleep for fear that I was going to have graphic nightmares. The scene replayed in my head over and over and over and over: Felled by a high-caliber shot to her heart, Neda lands on her back in a state of shock. The people around her immediately try to stop the bleeding from her upper chest, but they're clearly no match for a cardiovascular system in chaos. As her brain function diminishes, Neda's eyes go cock-eyed in every direction before rolling back into her head, just as hot, dark crimson blood uncontrollably pours from her nose, mouth, and eventually eyes. In a matter of seconds, she is gone, the screams around her lost to silence.

Just thinking about this again has me disturbed, and I had to make that photo of her deliberately small because I still can't stand to look at it.

Why did this video, which is so much less graphic than so many movies I see on a regular basis, completely wreck me? The obvious answer is that it's real footage, and not fake blood on a set with a director who's just ordered another take before breaking for lunch. No, there's one take, and that's an actual live human, and her life is literally pouring out of her body as I watch. And that deeply disturbs me.

But I don't feel like it's that simple, and in the month or so since seeing the video I've been much more curious about and aware of my reactions to violence on screen. For example, if it looks real, does it really make it harder to watch? If the director wants to make it look "really" real but it ends up looking fake (Black Hawk Down, recently Public Enemies), does it make it easier to watch? If the violence is inflicted on people I don't know or care about, does it make it easier to watch? What about women and children? Am I entertained by shootouts and explosions, or do I simply tolerate them? Surely if there was a gunfight in the hallway of my apartment, or a car bomb explosion on my street, I wouldn't consider it "awesome". Right?

I haven't really gained any clear insights from these questions over the last month, but one clue, or maybe just another confusing addition, came just the other day. Flipping through channels again, I landed on Richard Attenborough's Gandhi, and the scene in which more than 1,000 Indians are violently gunned down during, ironically, a non-violent protest against the Brits. It was horrifying to see men, women, and children massacred, but this being 1982, the death was not visually graphic, at least in the blood-spatteringly way that it would be if it were made in 2009 (indeed, Gandhi was rated PG). Yet despite the lack of gore, body parts, and blood-soaked corpses, I found myself actually more disturbed by the Gandhi shootout than by the Black Hawk Down bloodbath.

There are all kinds of possible explanations for this, and maybe I'll consider them here at another time. This post was really just a spontaneous reaction to the trifecta of the Neda video and those two movie scenes that I saw in the last couple of months. I guess it was my attempt at simply beginning to process how I may or may not have been sensitized or desensitized by violence on screen throughout the course of my life. I would hope that most people have the same thoughts from time to time; if you have any insights feel free to share them.

Summer Nights with Newman - as Brick, Hud, Luke, & Fast Eddie

Considering the record cold temperatures hovering through the summer months in Minnesota, you almost have to think twice about what to wear outside. A jacket in July? Ridiculous. Hopefully, this spell is almost over since the Walker Art Center's Summer Music & Movies series, "Newman Rocks", is kicking off tonight. For the next four Mondays, enjoy free live music by indie rock bands (it's the Walker & The Current, what's new) followed by a free film screening in Loring Park (North end of the Whitney Bridge spanning Hennepin/Lyndale Avenues, across from the Sculpture Garden).

This summer's lineup will celebrate the work of one of Hollywood's most legendary stars, the late Paul Newman, who passed away last September at the age of 83. Newman earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor for his performances in each of the following films:

Monday, July 20th

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1959); Nominated for 6 Oscars
Musical act: Halloween, Alaska

"Plagued by secrets and financial ambitions, a wealthy Mississippi family wrestles with truth and desire in this lush Tennessee Williams adaptation that oozes old money and Southern charm. Newman, in his first of 10 Academy Award–nominated performances, plays ex-football star Brick—a sardonic, alcoholic, and impotent husband to the ambitious and conniving Maggie, “the cat” (Elizabeth Taylor at her sultry best)". Directed by Richard Brooks. 1959, 16mm, 108 minutes.

Having seen Cat on a Hot Tin Roof for the first time recently, I have to admit - I'd almost rather see it as a play. Like other film adaptations of stage productions (recently Doubt and Frost/Nixon), it just doesn't seem like much is added to this; almost the entire movie takes place in a few rooms of the house. Newman, Taylor, and especially Burl Ives ham it up pretty heavily, and I'm sure its themes were as controversial as advertised in 1959. But of the four shown in this series it's not Newman's most impressive performance, even if it was a significant marker in his career.


Monday, July 27th

Hud (1963); Nominated for 7 Oscars (won 3)
Musical act: Roma di Luna

"Newman demolishes the cowboy myth as Hud Bannon, an unprincipled, ruthless lothario in Texas’ windswept cattle country: “tremendous—a potent, voracious man, restless with all his crude ambitions, arrogant with his contempt, and churned up inside with all the meanness and misgivings of himself” (New York Times). And when disease threatens to wipe out the family’s herd, things definitely come to a head. Based on a book by Larry McMurtry, the film received seven Oscar nominations, including a nod to Newman and an award to Patricia Neal as Alma, their tough-talking housekeeper." Directed by Martin Ritt. 1963, 16mm, 112 minutes.

I couldn't be much less of an expert on Westerns, but watching Newman in Hud I can't help think that he influenced the attitude and style of "modern" cowboys for years to come, both on screen and in real life. He's an absolutely magnetic presence here; the kind of bad boy that makes you start to understand why women like bad boys so much. Another interesting note about Hud is that it's based on a novel by Larry McMurtry, who would win an Oscar more than 40 years later for another story about atypical cowboys: Brokeback Mountain.


Monday, August 3rd

Cool Hand Luke (1967); Nominated for 4 Oscars (won 1)
Musical act: Gospel Gossip

"Newman’s spirited portrayal of an unruly Florida prison camp inmate created a quintessential anti-hero of the rebellious late ’60s. With memorable lines such as “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate,” and the classic scene that sparked egg-eating contests among young Americans everywhere, Cool Hand Luke remains Newman’s most unforgettable characterization of youthful defiance that even now packs a gut-wrenching punch." Directed by Stuart Rosenberg. 1967, 16mm, 126 minutes.

Featuring what's undoubtedly one of Newman's most iconic performances, Cool Hand Luke also introduced him as the heartthrob of a generation. Here again, he plays the guy that every girl wants to be with and every guy wants to be like (except me since I think hard boiled eggs are disgusting). Although Cool Hand Luke only won a single Oscar for supporting actor George Kennedy, in 2005 it became yet another Newman film (The Hustler was another) to be added to the National Film History, verifying it as "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant".


Monday, August 10th

The Hustler (1961); Nominated for 9 Oscars (won 2)
Musical act: Times New Viking

"Newman’s 'Fast Eddie' Felson, an up-and-coming pool shark, meets his match in the legendary Minnesota Fats (Jackie Gleason) in a battle of skill and character. Awash in drink, the humbled Felson takes up with pretty alcoholic Sarah (Piper Laurie) and falls under the thumb of a crooked gambler (George C. Scott). With riveting pool scenes and hazy black-and-white cinemascope photography, “the characters one meets in the succession of sunless and smoky billiard halls... in the course of this tough film are the sort to make your flesh creep and whatever blood you may have run cold” (New York Times)." Directed by Robert Rossen. 1961, 16mm, 134 minutes.

I think the poster I chose for The Hustler is completely misleading (bringing to mind Gone With the Wind or some other sappy romance), but director Robert Rossen reportedly wanted to frame the film around the Eddie-Sarah relationship as much as the Eddie-Fats rivalry. He was rewarded with critical acclaim and saw The Hustler, also a commercial smash hit, earn nine Oscar nominations. Newman (who shows off some amazing pool skills) earned his second nod for Best Actor but did not win...until he reprised his role as Eddie Felson in The Color of Money (1986). The Hustler is also known for making pool cool in the U.S., and for inspiring real-life pool shark Rudolf Wanderone to begin using the name "Minnesota Fats".

___________________________________________

As a reminder, each of these four movies is free. The concerts will begin at 7 PM and the film screenings at dusk, or about 8:45 PM. Series sponsor Lunds will be selling "picnic fare" and, in the case of rain, the movies will be shown in the Walker Cinema instead.

These outdoor screenings actually take a lot of work to put on - the "Screen on the Green" series I highlighted in DC last year was even canceled this year before being saved at the last minute by new sponsors. We shouldn't take it for granted here (thanks to the Walker and the Minneapolis Park & Recreation Board), so bring a blanket, some friends, some bug spray, and take in four classics starring the legendary Paul Newman.