Movies in 2026 206

 

Ghost World (Terry Zwigoff, 2001)

As much as I didn't like Terry Zwigoff's Art School Confidential, it was more than made up for by being able to re-watch his 2001 black comedy Ghost World. Thora Birch (as Enid), Steve Buscemi (as Seymour), Scarlett Johansson (as Rebecca), and Illeana Douglas (as Roberta) are all wonderful in this tale of alienated youths (and not so young people) existing on the fringes of an overly consumerist society. I was once again taken by the ending, when Enid gets on an out of service bus and heads out of town, which has always sparked controversy: Zwigoff proposed that it was a hopeful ending, as it symbolized transition, but many others, maybe most notably Birch, viewed it as very dark, with it symbolizing Enid's death of suicide. Throughout the film, Enid had talked to Norman, an old man who sat on the same bench, waiting for a bus - and he would never listen to Enid when she tells him that the line doesn't run anymore. Later, she sees him get on the bus, and it's difficult to not view it as symbolizing death, although maybe it's better to think of it as symbolizing release. For some reason, although I understand the suicide interpretation (and I may actually share it on some level), I still can't view the ending as depressing. Anyway, I love films which don't mind leaving you hanging and not simply tying things together in a clean, audience-friendly ending. Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 205

 

Magnet of Doom (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1963)

I'm continuing my Jean-Pierre Melville exploration, and last night I watched his 1963 film Magnet of Doom. While I didn't like it as much as some of his other films, I still liked it a fair bit. Jean-Paul Belmondo stars as Michel Maudet, an ex-boxer and paratrooper, who wanders into the criminal world, and becomes a personal secretary of Dieudonne Fercahaus (who I mainly remember from Clouzot's The Wages of Fear), a corrupt banker on the run. They end up in the US, driving across country, and eventually hiding out in the deep South near New Orleans. It ends up as a commentary, from a French sensibility, of the mystery that is America. It was odd to see Stefania Sandrelli (who I always associate with Antonio Pietrangeli's great I Knew Her Well) in a very small, but key, role as a hitchhiker. Michele Mercier (who I think I first saw in Mario Bava's Black Sabbath) plays a dancer in New Orleans. Recommended.

The Cross is Bending

 I was at the gym yesterday, working out and looking at the lineup of monitors, all celebrating the country's 250th anniversary with the traditional orgy of militarism, consumerism, and mindless surface-level patriotism, and I was reminded of Eugene V. Debs's statement in court in response to being convicted of violating the Sedition Act for giving speeches against America's participation in World War I. It made me think of my long-standing belief that Debs is the greatest Hoosier (by far), and that in saying that I have never gone far enough: in fact, Debs may have been the last great American.

"Your Honor, years ago I recognized my kinship with all living beings, and I made up my mind that I was not one bit better than the meanest on earth. I said then, and I say now, that while there is a lower class, I am in it, and while there is a criminal element I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.

I listened to all that was said in this court in support and justification of this prosecution, but my mind remains unchanged. I look up the Espionage Law as a despotic enactment in flagrant conflict with democratic principles and with the spirit of free institutions . . .

You Honor, I have stated in this court that I am opposed to the social system in which we live; that I believe in a fundamental change - but if possible by peaceable and orderly means . . .

Standing here this morning, I recall my boyhood. At fourteen I went to work in a railroad shop; at sixteen I was firing a freight engine on a railroad.. I remember all the hardships and privations of that earlier day, and from that time until now my heart has been with the working class. I could have been in Congress long ago. I have preferred to go to prison . . .

I am thinking this morning of the men in the mills and the factories; of the men in the mines and on the railroads. I am thinking of the women who for a paltry wage are compelled to work out their barren lives; of the little children who in this system are robbed of their childhood and in their tender years are seized in the remorseless grasp of Mammon and forced into the industrial dungeons, there to feed the monster machines while they themselves are being starved and stunted, body and soul. I see them dwarfed and diseased and their little lives broken and blasted because in this high noon of Christian civilization money is still so much more important than the flesh and blood of childhood. In very truth gold is god today and rules with pitiless sway in the affairs of men.

In this country - the most favored beneath the bending skies - we have vast areas of the richest and most fertile soil, material resources in inexhaustible abundance, the most marvelous productive machinery on earth, and millions of eager workers ready to apply their labor to that machinery to produce in abundance for every man, woman, and  child - and if there are still vast numbers of our people who are the victims of poverty and whose lives are an unceasing struggle all the way from youth to old age, until at last death comes to their rescue and lulls these hapless victims to dreamless sleep, it is not the vault of the Almighty; it cannot be charged to nature, but it is due entirely to the outgrown social system in which we live that  ought to be abolish not only in the interest of the toiling masses but in the higher interest of all humanity . . . 

I believe, Your Honor, in common with all Socialists, that this nation ought to own and control its own industries. I believe, as all Socialists do, that all things that are jointly needed and used ought to be jointly owned - that industry, the basis of our social life, instead of being the private property of a few and operated for their enrichment, ought to be the common property of all, democratically administered in the interest of all . . .

I am opposing a social order in which it is possible for on e man who does absolutely nothing that is useful to mass a fortune of hundreds of millions of dollars, while millions of men and women who work all the days of their lives barely secure enough for a wretched existence.

This order of things cannot always endure. I have registered my protest against it. I recognize the feebleness of my effort, but, fortunately, I am not alone. There are multiplied thousands of others who, like myself, have come to realize that before we may truly enjoy the blessings of civilized life, we must reorganize society upon a mutual and cooperative basis; and to this end we have organized a great economic and political movement that spreads over the face of all the earth. 

There are today upwards of sixty millions of Socialists, loyal, devoted adherents in this cause, regardless of nationality, race, creed, color, or sex. They are all making common cause. They are spreading with tireless energy the propaganda of the new social order. They are waiting, watching, and working hopefully through all the hours of the day and the night. They are still in a minority. But they have learned how to be patient and to bide their time. They feel - they know, indeed - that the time is coming, in spite of all opposition, all persecution, when this emancipating gospel will spread among all the peoples, and when this minority will become the triumphant majority and, sweeping into power, inaugurate the greatest social and economic change in history. 

In that day we shall have the universal commonwealth - the harmonious cooperation of every nation with every other nation on earth . . .

Your Honor, I ask no mercy and I plead for no immunity. I realize that finally the right must prevail. I never so clearly comprehended as now the great struggle between the powers of greed and exploitation on the one hand and upon the other the rising hosts of industrial freedom and social justice. 

I can see the dawn of the better day for humanity. The people are awakening. In due time they will and must come to their own.

When the mariner, sailing over tropic seas, looks for relief from his weary watch, he turns his eyes toward the southern cross, burning luridly above the tempest-vexed ocean. As the midnight approaches, the southern cross begins to bend, the whirling worlds change their places, and with starry finger-points the Almighty marks the passage of time up-on the dial of the universe, and through no bell may beat the glad tidings, the lookout knows that the midnight is passing and that relief and rest are close at hand. Let the people everywhere take heart of hope, for the cross is bending, the midnight is passing, and joy cometh with the morning."

Eugene V. Debs (18 September, 1918)

Movies in 2026 204

 

Art School Confidential (Terry Zwigoff, 2006)

I finished a film this morning which I categorically didn't like, although the component parts seemed to be there to add up to something meaningful, or at least watchable: Terry Zwigoff's 2006 Art School Confidential. I remember liking his Ghost World, although it's also in my Criterion Channel queue for a rewatch. However, Art School Confidential is a complete misfire. John Malkovich, Angelica Huston, and Jim Broadbent are completely wasted in poorly constructed small roles - to match Max Minghella and Sophia Myles being completely wasted in poorly constructed leading roles. The only interesting part of the film for me was going down a rabbit role and discovering that Matt Keeslar, who I remembered from Whit Stillman's Last Days of Disco, and who played an oddly parallel role in this film, eventually gave up acting because of the financial insecurity caused by a paucity of roles and became a certified physician assistant. That's an inspiring story, as compared to the depressing dreck of this movie.

Movies in 2026 203

 

Widow's Bay (Hiro Murai, 2025)

Every year there's one or two more "must see" cable series, and this year one of them seems to be Widow's Bay. Beyond WIFI, which allows me to stream the invaluable Criterion Channel, we don't really have any channels, other than Prime, which is both impossible to avoid and also completely pathetic (in that it's now merely a clearing house for other streaming channels). However, Janet was trapped into getting Apple TV so that she could watch F1. Because we already had it we decided to give Widow's Bay a try. It's pretty mindless, although in an inoffensive way, with the most interesting thing being trying to determine who they are ripping off most dramatically: Kolchak: the Night Stalker or The Fog or Storm of the Century or maybe even Green Acres. 

The Crew

 On Monday Janet and I were able to meet Gary and Ali downtown for dinner and a treat, which is always a blessing. Once the kids moved to Montpelier it became possible to see them quite a bit, and, which every parent of adult kids tells you, it's such a gift. It was a lovely moment. Sadly, Montpelier has not truly recovered from the flood, so what was once a very vibrant downtown buzz is pretty quiet, especially since one of our foundation haunts, the Langdon Street Tavern, shut down.

After grabbing dinner at Three Penny we were thinking of dessert, and Gary told us about a gelato place around the corner. It allowed us to have a little proto-European moment, pre-move. They were supposed to be whimsically thinking about the future, but Janet broke characters.

Movies in 2026 202

 

Repo Man (Alex Cox, 1984)

Somehow I had never seen Alex Cox's Repo Man, although I'm not quite certain why I never had. Granted, 1984 was a busy year, in that I got married for the first time and finished my MA, so maybe it was simply a case of being really busy. Plus, we were pretty poor, so we didn't have a lot of extra money floating around to go to the movies. I was in graduate school, as compared to some corporate path, so it's not as if the more punk sensibilities of the film would have stood at variance with my burgeoning conservative agenda. It was in the middle of the hell of the Reagan years, and America's great break with reality, so it seems like it would have been a good fit. Anyway, it was definitely my loss. Harry Dean Stanton (as Bud) and Emilio Estevez (as Otto) star as repo men, out on the hunt for cars to repossess. Somewhere along the way they get on the trail of a Chevy Malibu, which is of extraterrestrial origins (don't look in the trunk!). Tracey Walter (as Miller) steals the show, and the car, when he drives/flies the Malibu away at the end. It's funny and fast-paced, and also a critique of consumerism and religion and the hypocrisy of the Reagan years. I think the film and the punk sentiment are summed up by the exchange at the end of the movie between Leila (played by Olivia Barash) and Otto: "But what about our relationship?", which inspires his response, "Fuck that." Here at the far end of the Reagan nightmare, I think that's my response to my relationship to America. Highly recommended.