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One Battle After Another, (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2025)

Last night we finally got around to watching Paul Thomas Anderson's One Battle After Another, which seems to be, along with Sinners, the two leading choices to win the Oscar for Best Picture (although I suspect that It Was Just an Accident or Sentimental Value are better pictures). Either way, as has been the case since 1986, I will not be watching the Oscars as I continue the boycott I started when David Lynch's Blue Velvet was not nominated (in an age when no one believes in anything or stands for something, I am the exception). Of the two, I would pick One Battle After Another, although I certainly would be happy with Sinners winning (as I said earlier, it is a wonderful film). Maybe it's the unabashed critique of Trump's America that pushes the arrow to One Battle After Another for me. There was an article on the BBC website recently which asked the question: if so many film critics view One Battle After Another as a classic, why did so few people bother to see it. They proposed several reasons, when the obvious reason is simply that Americans are morons. Highly recommended.

The Cabin That Dripped Ice

 In honor of the 1971 Hammer film, The House That Dripped Blood, we are proud to present: The Cabin That Dripped Ice. [No one will be admitted during the terrifying ice decapitation scene!] As I've mentioned previously, during the last couple winters Vermont has seemingly remembered that it's Vermont. And, again, as I mentioned previously, I will not miss the Vermont winter.

Janet proposing that we really should do something about the ice hanging from the cabin.

Janet finally snapping and heroically freeing us from the demonic ice that was trying to entomb the entire cabin.

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The General (Buster Keaton & Clyde Bruckman, 1926)

Over the years I've seen innumerable clips from Buster Keaton films, but, strangely - and shamefully - I had never seen a complete Keaton film until yesterday. I watched his 1926 film The General. It was one of those films that I had heard of (I think Orson Welles said that The General was not only the best comedy ever made, but also the best film), but had never gotten around to watching it. Happily, the Criterion Channel is featuring one of their odd collections, this time on movies with great stunts, which they would normally never show. It's sort of like their collections on 1970s drive-in horror movies or snow westerns, which shows that clearly they are not being driven by marketing but instead by true weirdo film buffs sitting in a room bouncing around ideas. They have a couple Keaton movies and also a Harold Lloyd film (all of which have moved into my queue). The General is a great, great film, and it is highly recommended.

Oskee Wee Wee

 This summer's CFL Trips of Excellence are coming into view. In June I'll be heading to Hamilton to meet my cousin Nick for a Tiger-Cats game. Not only will this be his fir CFL game, it will also be his first time out of the country. Not surprisingly, he's super excited. Obviously, he now has to learn the Tiger-Cats official fight song, otherwise he won't blend. I, of course, both know that Song of Excellence, but have enough Tiger-Cats swag to blend effortlessly. This will be my third Tiger-Cats game, which I'm definitely looking forward to. Hamilton is a great place to see a game, with great fans and a nice stadium. It also houses the CFL Hall of Fame, which somehow I've never visited (although that will change this summer).

The plane tickets were purchased yesterday for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers & Saskatchewan Roughriders doubleheader, so obviously there will be much more discussion of that soon enough.

14

 And now I'm half-way through the final semester of my long teaching career. My students were pretty good this week, and hopefully it will carry over next week as we have one more week until spring break. Today I popped into Walmart's to pick up something before leaving Burlington, and in the space of five minutes ran into a former student, my friend Deb from the Food Shelf, and Brother Yunus from the mosque, which just about sums up so much of my life over the last few years. My former students had taken my Ibn Khaldun class a few years ago, and he talked about how much he had enjoyed the class and how much he felt he had learned; professors never tire of hearing from their former students (especially the happy ones), since it gives us some hope that we're still making a difference.

And thanks to Jack Coan for loaning me his number 14 for the countdown. I thought I would change things up and feature a player just beginning his career, and not an all-star or a CFL Hall of Famer. Coan is the backup quarterback for the Grey Cup champion Saskatchewan Roughriders, which, unfortunately for him, means he doesn't get a lot of playing time. The tickets have been purchased for this summer's Winnipeg/Saskatchewan doubleheader, so I might seem him get in some snaps (especially in those important 3rd and 1 situations). He played his college ball at Wisconsin and Notre Dame. I noted that he is from Sayville, New York, the home of the esteemed Sanford Zale. Today at the Breakfast of Excellence, Sandy told me that his father's knows Jack's family, so it is a small world.

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The Life of Oharu, (Kenzi Mizoguchi, 1952)

So, the Kenji Mizoguchi deep dive has begun, as last night I watched his 1952 classic, The Life of Oharu. And it is definitely a film that deserves the designation: classic. It's based on Saikaku Ihara's 17th century novel The Life of an Amorous Woman, which it seems that I've discussed in passing in class for decades but have never read. The title of the novel would make you think that it's a sex romp or an oddly positioned rom-com, but instead it's a pretty heartbreaking story, as it chronicles the fall of the titular Oharu from woman of the central court to common prostitute. I think the film is more compassionate to Oharu (as one would expect from Mizoguchi, who tended to always take the side of his female characters and criticize society for its mistreatment of women) than the novel. The novel tends to blame all of her problems on her nature, whereas the film shows how one poor decision from her youth keeps pursuing and plaguing Oharu, so the problem is more in society than in her nature. Kinuyo Tanaka is brilliant in the lead role (she was in fifteen Mizoguchi films over the years, including several Ozu movies in her long career). The Life of Oharu also stars, briefly, a very young Toshiro Mifune, although he gets his head chopped off about ten minutes in. Essential viewing. I'll definitely be watching more - and thank you, Criterion Channel, for being generous in your collection of Kenji Mizoguchi films.

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Conflagration, (Kon Ichikawa, 1958)

The other day I predicted that I was going to be heading down a Kenji Mizoguchi rabbit hole, and while I was lining up films in my Criterion Channel queue I stumbled across Kon Ichikawa's Conflagration. It's a film adaptation of Yukio Mishima's novel The Temple of the Golden Pavilion, which is probably why it jumped out at me. I've always been a big Mishima fan, and the other day I was thinking about how much I wanted to give yet another re-read of his Sea of Fertility tetralogy (Spring Snow, Runaway Horses, The Temple of Dawn, and The Decay of the Angel). Now I want to go back and re-read The Temple of the Golden Pavilion. The film itself is a worthy adaptation, and it has some truly arresting scenes, and it is very true to those themes you'd expect in Mishima: the challenge of modernity, the loss of meaning, etc. Recommended.

15

 We've passed into the seventh week of the semester, which means that after this week I'll be half-way through my final semester. Yesterday I sent along my official letter to my Provost and Dean stating that I'm retiring and that my final day will be the end of June. They both knew this was the case, but at a certain point you have to make it official for the sake of HR and paperwork. It's weird in that in my line of work that date, 30 June, doesn't really mean much because the semester will end in the first week of May, so that's all I'm really thinking about. When I walk out of class the last time, both my regular semester class and my last Final Exam, that will hit me. The end of June will pass essentially unnoticed (except for my bank account, obviously).

And thanks to Willie Fleming, who is happily still around, for loaning me his number 15 for the countdown. I always expect to get an email from one of the players either, jokingly, pointing out that they didn't actually loan me their number or congratulating me on my impending retirement. Fleming was born in Atlanta, GA, and starred for the University of Iowa (and played on their Rose Bowl championship team). He played his entire career for the BC Lions, becoming the first BC player to rush for a thousand yards. During his time there he won a Grey Cup and eventually had his number retired by the team - and he's a member of the CFL Hall of Fame (here's another player whose plaque I'll check out this summer during the Hamilton trip). He earned a very cool nickname - "The Wisp" or "Will 'o the Wisp" - because he was hard to tackle.

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Ugetsu, (Kenji Mizoguchi, 1953)

The other movie that I managed to watch yesterday during the general madness of the day was Kenji Mizoguchi's Ugetsu. It is drawn from two ghost stories, "The House in the Thicket" and "The Lust of the White Serpent," from Ueda Akinari's 18th century Tales of Moonlight and Rain - with a little of Guy de Maupassant's "How He Got the Legion of Honor" thrown in. As with all Mizoguchi there's a lot more going on, including a critique of the growing greed of the post-war Japanese population and the general mistreatment of women. I have a feeling that a Kenji Mizoguchi deep dive is starting. In 1941 he had made a pro-war propaganda film, The 47 Ronin (which is happily also in the Criterion Channel collection), and Ugetsu is also a commentary on the folly of war and militarism, which means the film is also in some ways a statement of regret. Highly recommended. 

Deal Justly

 " . . . then marry such women as seem good to you, two, three, or four, but if you fear that you will not deal justly, then only one . . ." 4:3

Here's another line from my early morning Quranic study that jumped out at me, although I've clearly thought about it a lot over the years. It's also a line that we discussed in my various classes that dealt with Islam or the Islamic world, because it gives context to the notion of polygamy. There seems to be this perception on the part of folks who no almost nothing about Islam that all Muslims are running around with several wives, and one of the reasons why is that Muhammad gave them this privilege and encouraged them to do so. The reality is that a very small percentage of the 1.7 billion Muslims in the world actually have more than one wife. It's hard to come up with an exact figure, but it seems to be less than two percent. This revelation, from Allah through Gabriel to Muhammad, did not increase the number of wives, but instead limited it. What jumped out at me this morning was the balancing act between the transitory and the eternal, between the particular and the universal. Polygamy is an ancient practice, and it was especially prevalent in pre-Islamic Arabia, made more common by the constant warfare of that period. Essentially, there were a lot of widows, and one way that you took care of so many widows was for men of certain wealth to marry them. There are other things going on in regards to polygamy, obviously, but the number of "extra" widows was a driving force in the number of polygamous marriages at that particular time. Most of the Prophet's wives were widows. Anyway, while it's interesting to consider that this revelation limited the number of wives, as compared to increasing them, what inspired this post today are the words "deal justly." I'm a historian, so of course I'm going to think that time and place and context matter, even in religious texts, but even if I were not a historian I would think that time and place and context matter, even in religious texts. The number of wives represents the conditions of a particular time and place, and in some ways (most ways) I think it should stay in that time and place. One of the reasons why we study the Quran, or any religious text, is to get at the deeper meanings, which are more eternal and universal. So, if we're looking at this passage as a justification to take a second wife (in a country where that is an option), then I think we're missing the point. The key, the transcendent, eternal, universal key, is that emphasis on dealing justly with your spouse (because part of that search for the universal has to be going beyond a message told to dudes in a patriarchal society). 

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No Greater Love: The Human Condition I, (Masaki Kobayashi, 1959)

Yesterday was a pretty wretched day, mainly because of those stupid things that life throws at you: yet another big snow, burying my car as I tried to get out of the driveway before my plow guy had come (leaving my Subaru thinking about flipping over and ending up down the hill) - our plow guy eventually came back later and heroically pulled the car out, Janet had to miss out on a book club discussion of Faulkner that she was really looking forward to, I didn't get the trash to the dump, the water heater stopped working (the repair guy came around at almost 9:00 p.m., and happily fixed it), the toilet was clogged, a mouse happily ran around the basement while the cats looked at it in a disinterested fashion. Yes, it was one of those days. However, in the midst of all the chaos, I was still able to get in my Quranic study, my Italian lessons, several hours of crucial writing on the epics manuscript - and, most importantly, spent some quality time with Janet. I was also able, while killing time waiting for our plow guy and the water heater guy to show up, to watch a couple movies. The first was No Greater Love, the first installment in Masaki Kobayashi's unmatched trilogy, The Human Condition. I just re-watched the entire trilogy (all nine and a half hours) last fall, but I'm going to use part two of No Greater Love in my Images of Fascism class this week, so this was partially class prep (and also a love of labor, obviously). The militarists and radical right wing hated (and still hates) the movie, just as they hated/hates the Junpei Gomikawa novel that it's based on. In my preparatory email to my students, I told them that as we watch the film to think about Stanley's How Fascism Works and our evolving understanding of Fascism, but also the question of memory, and what we owe to the present and the future to remember the horrors of the past. I firmly believe, and I don't think you can budge me on this one, that Kobayashi's The Human Condition is the greatest trilogy of all time, and one of the great films of all time. Clearly, watching it is not only highly recommended, it is essential. 

One Hour of Reflection

 "One hour of reflection is better than a night's vigil." Muhammad, Hadith

One of the many beautiful things about Ramadan is the continual revisiting of text, and the new lessons that you draw from them. On the one hand, I suppose this is a duh statement, because I draw different meanings from every re-read of The Book of Disquiet or In Search of Lost Time or Bleak House, so I guess it shouldn't be different if the text is of divine origin; I'm still a human trying to work my way through the words and meaning, no matter their origin. Sometimes the different meaning comes from a passage that you somehow had glossed over, even if you've read the work many times. That said, I think it's interesting how yet another re-read will inspire a new understanding, even if you've tagged the passage before. For example, I was involved in my early morning Quranic study, and was devoting myself to both the Quran and also the voluminous notes in Seyyed Hoissein Nasr's wonderful Study Quran. I came across a line that I had underlined (who knows how many years ago): "A hadith states, 'One hour of reflection [or meditation, tafakkur] is better than a night's vigil.'" Obviously, I thought it was important previously because I had already underlined it, but for some reason it really spoke to me this time. This is doubtless true because it is a message that continually resonates with me: in Ramadan if we're only focusing on getting in all of our prayers and and fasting, and not devoting more time to Quranic study and reflection then we're missing out on an extraordinary opportunity for growth. One of the things that I'm looking forward to as I face down retirement is the extra time that I'll have every day to read and study and reflect more. Of course, this also places greater responsibility on us. Nasr quotes Hasan al-Basri as having said, "If one's words are not wisdom, they are vain. If one's silence is not reflection, it is absent-mindedness. If one's thought is not contemplation, it is play." 

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Jules and Jim, (Francois Truffaut, 1962)

Yes, I've clearly been trapped in the Criterion Channel's French New Wave collection lately. The other night I watched Truffaut's 1962 film Jules and Jim, a film that I somehow don't think I had ever seen (which seems unbelievable). Jules (Oskar Werner) and Jim (Henri Serre) spend years being drawn into the snare of Catherine (played, brilliantly and sulkily, by Jeanne Moreau). Seriously, has anyone paired with Jeanne Moreau in a film ended up happy or even undamaged? I have this theory that you had to live through the French New Wave to truly get the French New Wave, in that often a work of art or a series of works of art ca so change the world that it almost makes it impossible to appreciate how significant they are.

16

 We're getting desperately close to reaching the halfway point of my last semester. It's been a pleasant semester so far, and my students have been (generally) on their best behavior. I even received an initial inquiry from a university press, which, no matter how it plays itself out, was great news.

Thanks to Matt Dunigan for loaning me his number sixteen as part of my countdown to retirement. Dunigan was born in Lakewood, Ohio, which I supposed I've driven by dozens of times on my drives from Vermont to Indiana over the years. He attended Louisiana Tech, for heading north (mainly) to play for a number of CFL teams: Edmonton Eskimos, BC Lions, Toronto Argonauts, Winnipeg Blue Bombers, Birmingham Barracudas (during that ill-fated CFL expansion into the states), and Hamilton Tiger-Cats. He is a two time Grey Cup Champion, winning once with Edmonton and once with Toronto, and was elected into the CFL Hall of Fame (I'll have to check out his plaque on this summer's trip to Hamilton) in 2006. He's also served as a studio analyst on CFL broadcasts.

Piety

 Surah 2 is the longest surah in the Quran, making up something like 12% of the entire material. As you know, there are 114 surahs, so for one to take up over ten percent of the entire mass of the text that's definitely saying something. Of course, so many of the later surahs are only a few lines long. There aren't too many important subjects related to the faith that don't show up in one form or another in al-Baqarah ("the Cow"). Here is one of my favorite passage, relating to the concept of piety.

"It is not piety to turn your faces toward the east and the west. Rather, piety is he who believes in God, the Last Day, the angels, the Book, and the prophets; and who gives wealth, despite loving it, to kinsfolk, orphans, the indigent, the traveler, beggars, and for [the ransom] of slaves; and performs the prayer and gives the alms; and those who fulfill their oaths, when they pledge them, and those who are patient in misfortunate, hardships, and moments of peril. It is they who are the sincere, and it is they who are the reverent." 2:177

As Seyyed Hossein Nasr adds in his commentary, "Piety is understood as the obedience to God that is well established in the heart or as the sum of acts of obedience and devotion that led us closer to God." I'm always drawn more to the esoteric than the exoteric, and also to what someone does as compared to how they are performing for others, so there is so much about this passage that speaks to me.

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Bay of Angels, (Jacques Demy, 1963)

And while I was roaming around the Criterion Channel's French New Wave collection, I decided to watch Jacques Demy's Bay of Angels, his second film and the one before his wildly popular The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. I liked Bay of Angels, but didn't love it. It featured some fine performances, with Jeanne Moreau and Claude Mann playing two gamblers, Jackie and Jean, whose lives are being destroyed by their growing addiction. Jackie (Moreau) is a long-time gambler, with lots of stories about the times when she was broke and how she reverted to stealing and conniving to get another stake. Jean is a young man who has just started gambling, and his (eroding) common sense is all that keeps them going. There is an absurd happy ending. I want to think that Demy was just being ironic, but it doesn't play that way. I'd recommend it. It pales in comparison to The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, although that's hardly a stinging critique.

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Breathless, (Jean-Luc Godard, 1960)

After yesterday's rant about Pierrot Le Fou I thought I owed it to Godard to watch one of his films that I liked, and celebrate its excellence. So, last night I re-watched Breathless (for who knows how many times). It's funny, the other day I went down a Godard rabbit hole and read several pieces that ranked Godard films, and not only did every one of them rank Breathless as his best films, but then they universally apologize for naming Godard's first film as his best film. It's an old chestnut that an author or a filmmaker or a songwriter spends their entire life writing their first work, but then are unpleasantly informed that they need to produce something better in a year. I would rank A Band Apart higher, but that's purely subjective - that is, I simply like it better. It's hard to argue with Breathless's position based on its cinematic/historical significance; as the Criterion Channel pointed out, there was film before Breathless and film after Breathless. Every time I watch Breathless I'm reminded that Jean Seberg was essentially driven to suicide by the FBI. 

No Fear Shall Come Upon Them

 And another Ramadan has started, and thus it is time for my favorite part of the month: intensive study and self-reflection. Obviously, it's not as if we shouldn't be studying the Quran throughout the year, but the beauty of Ramadan is it is structured to help us get back to that place where we are that focused. If you're a long-time reader of this blog (and, seriously, don't you have something better to do with your time?), you know that one of my critiques about how we approach the time is that Muslims will routinely ask each other Muslims how the fasting is going, but no one ever asks how the Quranic study is going. Again, is it simply because that's easier to quantify, as compared to "what breakthroughs have you made, brother, in your study?." The fascination with fasting shouldn't be an easy path to shaming, but, sadly, it often is. Anyway, I was up early, happily reading and studying, looking at my notes in my well-worn copy of Nasr's The Study Quran, and adding even more notes. I came across one of my favorite passages:

"Truly those who believe, and those who are Jews, and the Christians, and the Sabeans - whosoever believes in God and the Last Day and works righteousness shall have their reward with their Lord. No fear shall come up them, not shall they grieve." 2:62

This passage is very similar to the later verse, 5:69, so I suspect that will pop up later as well. There are, not surprisingly, many, many passages in the Quran that I love, but this was is very dear to me because I think it speaks to a more universal concept of faith - that is, a more beautiful and less tribal sense of what this is all about. Granted, Nasr is more ecumenical than most Muslim thinkers, and maybe this is why I'm so drawn to his work, but his commentary really stresses the transcendent nature of what religion and faith can be, as an avenue for personal improvement and an opportunity for building bridges, and not as yet another excuse for people to hate each other. Nasr quotes the commentator al-Qushayri, "The differences in paths, with the oneness of of the origin, does not hinder the beauty of acceptance. Whosoever affirms [God] the Real in His signs, and believes in the truth and His Qualities of which He informs them - namely, the Truth and His Qualities - then the differences in religious paths and the differences in the appellation of names do not impinge on the realization of the good pleasure [of God]." 

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Maggie's Plan, (Rebecca Miller, 2015)

This morning I watched Rebecca Miller's 2015 film Maggie's Plan. I definitely love it, but I did like it, so I'd suggest you check it out (right now it's available on the Criterion Channel in their Julianne Moore collection). It's described as a screwball comedy, and there are certainly aspects of that genre in it, but it also felt very much like one of those lesser Woody Allen movies where a series of educated white folks have enough income and time on their hands to fixate on their personal problems without actually dealing with anything particularly important (I think that sounds harsher than I intended). Greta Gerwig is charming in a very Greta Gerwig role (funny and clumsy and earnest and endearing), and you can't help thinking that it's a pity that she's so good at that role that she never is given the opportunity to play a role that displays how obviously bright she is. Ethan Hawke plays a very Ethan Hawke role, in that he's likeable and smart but obviously mildly fractured and incapable of finding a happy relationship or bringing happiness to a relationship. Julianne Moore is typically good. She's intelligent and emotionally distant and more than a bit fractured (which sounds like a typical Julianne Moore role), but she's also quite funny in the film. It's difficult to make the claim that such an accomplished actress isn't given great roles, but she's also often typecast in darker more emotionally complicated roles (which is hardly something to complain about, obviously). This reads like a negative reflection on the film, which I don't think I meant it to be, because I did like it. There are some great moments. When the Gerwig character says to Hawke that their relationship should have stopped at the level of an affair (he was married to the Moore character) and not led to them getting married she's definitely speaking some serious truth.

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Pierrot Le Fou, (Jean-Luc Godard, 1965)

Recently I decided to give Jean-Luc Godard's Pierrot Le Fou another viewing. I wanted to watch it again, partially because, well, duh, I love movies, but also because I simply didn't like it the first time I watched it five years ago. So, I decided to give it another shot, figuring that maybe I was simply in a mood before which kept me from appreciating it. I always think that this is a real danger with movies, because they're so emotionally driven and also because they blow by in less than two hours, which increases the chances that you might have simply not been willing/able to play your part in the movie experience (as compared to say being consistently in a bad mood for the forty hours that it might take to get through a Dickens novel). So, I did have a different response, in that I think I disliked it more than my first viewing. Obviously, I'm in the minority here, because many folks consider Pierrot Le Fou to be one of Godard's best films. I routinely like the film's stars, Jean-Paul Belmondo and Anna Karina (including in other Godard films), but in this film I simply didn't care about either of them, and those classic Godard-isms that I often consider brilliant simply annoyed me this time. It's not that I disliked Godard, because I love many of his films (Breathless, Bande a part, Vivre la vie, Masculine/Feminine) but there are other times that I may just like the idea of Godard more than Godard. Or maybe I was just in another bad mood, and I'll check back the next time I watch it with an updated review.

17

 And another week has begun, and my final semester is flying along. As I think I said last week, I'm not feeling too nostalgic and the passing moments don't feel too bittersweet so far. Again, maybe when I'm down to the final two weeks, and the CFL player jerseys are below five, I'll feel differently.  My officemate Erik proposed yesterday that I seemed very much at peace with the end, which he took to be reflective of the fact that I had an rich life planned out (living in Sicily, learning Italian, writing books) and thus it was less of an ending and more of a transition. As usual, I suspect he's right.

Thanks to Khari Jones for loaning me his number 17 for today's commemoration. I didn't know until recently that Jones is a fellow Hoosier, born in Hammond, Indiana. After attending college at UC Davis, he played briefly for the Albany Firebirds (Arena Football League) and Scottish Claymores (World League of American Football/NFL Europe) before heading north of the border. Over his ten years career he was a member of the BC Lions, Winnipeg Blue Bombers, Calgary Stampeders, Edmonton Eskimos, and Hamilton Tiger-Cats. He was voted the CFL's Most Outstanding Player in 2001 and led the Blue Bombers to the Grey Cup, although they lost to Calgary. The next year he threw for over 5300 yards and 46 TDs (which is the third most that any CFL QB has ever thrown in a season). Shoulder issues impacted his later career. After retirement he was Offense Coordinator for several teams, and also served as Head Coach of the Montreal Alouettes for four years.

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Inspector Nardone, (Fabrizio Costa, 2012)

Previously, I proposed that I was not going to record one episode of an Italian television mystery series (Janet has a long queue of them), but if we watched several of them or an entire series I'd go ahead and include it on this year's list. With that prologue in mind, last night we finished the Inspector Nardone series, which runs twelve episodes, split down the middle between early events and then ten years later. Inspector Nardone is transferred to Milan (because he's hot-headed and doesn't like following orders - there are tropes aplenty in the series), and despite clashes with his hard-headed boss who doesn't like his methods (see above), he puts together a crack team of crime fighters. It ends up feeling more like a soap opera, although, oddly, it's based on an actual historical figure. Sergio Assisi plays the lead character, and he's pretty likeable, although beyond the fact that he thinks Milanese coffee is crap you don't really learn much about what makes him tick. You will not be actively harmed by watching it, and if you're a fan of detective series you might like it, but generally it's pretty forgettable. Janet is mainly employing these series to learn Italian, so expect more to follow.

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Mafioso, (Alberto Lattuada, 1962)

Last night Janet and I watched a film on the Criterion Channel that we first viewed last year: Alberto Lattutada's 1962 film Mafioso. We first watched it because it was set in Sicily, which is almost certainly our final destination (I include the "almost certainly" designation simply because, well, as the old Persian saying reminds us, "if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans"). However, we discovered that Mafioso is a great film, and not simply because it was one of the first Italian films to actually deal with the issue of the Mafia. It's a odd and I would argue immensely effective film because it starts off feeling like a comedy based on a clash of cultures, but then turns into one of vague existential menace. Antonio (Alberto Sordi) and Marta (Norma Bengeli) Badalamenti leave Milan, where he works as a manager in an auto factory, to visit his hometown in Sicily. Blonde, and Milan-born, Marta and their two adorable blonde children, have never visited his hometown, and they completely stick out. There are several funny moments where Marta adjusts to this strange world, and eventually grows to like it. However, there is a separate thread that takes over the film, as Antonio is is asked by the local don to do a favor for him. I will not give away the ending, although I will admit that references to getting in the box have become part of the shared mythology of our cabin. Highly recommended.

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Happyend, (Neo Sora, 2024)

One of the (many) cool things that the Criterion Channel does is feature the occasional interesting independent or international film that has just left the theaters (that's a huge gift for folks in Vermont - and so many parts of the country - who never had the chance to see it in the theater in the first place). With that in mind, last night I watched Neo Sora's film Happyend. It tells the story of a number of Japanese high school students - Yuta (Hayato Kurihara), Kou (Yukito Hidaka), Ata-chan (Yuta Hayashi), Ming (Shina Peng), Tomu (Arazi), and Fumi (Kilala Inori) - as they have fun but also face the challenges of living through an increasingly authoritarian school and Japan. Halfway through I had decided to bump one of the films from my Images of Fascism class and replace it with Happend, but by the end I had talked myself out of it. To quote, well, myself, in too many responses to student essays, I just don't think it came together as cleanly as it might have - or maybe just as cleanly as I thought it had the potential to be (the director might well have considered it fully-realized). I guess I felt that the director couldn't decide whether the goal was a commentary on our techno-authoritarian dystopian age or the Breakfast Club. That definitely sounds harsher than it's intended, because I really liked it and I heartily recommend that you watch it (come on, get the Criterion Channel already!). Maybe this is just the teacher in me: we're always more frustrated by A student papers that were a couple more drafts away from brilliance than C students who are giving you all they have.

Why Indeed

 The other night in my Images of Fascism class we watched excerpts from Frank Capra's Prelude to War, the first installment in his Why We Fight US government propaganda series from World War II, and Claude Lanzmann's brilliant documentary about the holocaust, Shoah. They're both essential in different ways, but they also provided the challenge of how much to show so that the students could get the sense of the lesson but also leave enough time to let the students organically sort through the material (such is the life of a teacher). We ended up only watching around eleven minutes of Prelude to War (from around 6:42 to about 18:00, just about when there's around five minutes of marching), and I told the students that they should probably think of that eleven minute stretch as another text for the class.  In that section, Capra, and the US for that matter (it was a government sponsored film produced in the middle of the darkest chapter in American history), defined Fascism and what Fascists do to claim power. The students found it very sobering to watch the US government, in maybe its most assured dedication to the tenets of democracy, essentially defining the actions of our present US government as Fascist. Then we watched around an hour and a half out of Lanzmann's nine and a half hour documentary (that was a real challenge). However, we pulled out some powerful moments, including a Treblinka guard remembering the Jews being told that their skills would be valued at the camp, but first they had to take a quick delousing shower, before being led right into the gas chambers - and a death camp guard boisterously singing the Treblinka song they made all the Jewish workers sing (I swear I can still remember that scene, and I saw it once on public television in the 1980s). After the film, one of my female students, who had clearly been profoundly moved by Shoah, sadly commented, "I just don't know why we have to do all this again." Her statement alone might be the greatest teaching moment of the entire semester. Paraphrasing my daughter-in-law Ali, I guess this is why we have to do the work.

Movies in 2026 55

 

Sex, (Dag Johan Haugerud, 2024)

Today I finished the final film in Dag Johan Haugerud's Oslo trilogy, Sex. I still can't believe that the three films (including Love and Dreams) all came out in 2024. Sex and desire play a big role in all three films, but it is definitely foregrounded in this one. Jan Gunner Roise and Thorbjorn Harr are two chimney sweeps who begin to question/expand their understanding of gender and sexuality, in response to different experiences. Feier (Roise), a heterosexual married man has a sexual experience with a man. After sharing the experience with his wife, in an oddly open and assured fashion, is forced to deal with the meaning of that event and the pain he has caused her. His friend and boss (Harr), only attributed as Avdelingsleder (essentially, department manager), supports his friend, but also is troubled by his own issues, having a series of dreams where David Bowie enters and looks at him as a woman. This causes him to question the nature of masculinity. It's also interesting that he's a Christian, and Feier tells him how brave it is for him to almost "come out" as Christian in a largely secular country. Like the other two films in the trilogy, Sex is thoughtful and thought-provoking.. It's so wonderful to watch intelligent films dealing with complex issues in a calm and inspired fashion. Very highly recommended.

18

 And another week has passed. It's been a good semester so far. Last spring was the most miserable semester of my entire decades-long teaching career, and as I entered this one I had this bad feeling that it might repeat itself - which would be a pretty dreadful way to finish out my career. Maybe the random makeup of my classes has been favorable this semester, or maybe the coming ending is close enough that it's giving me energy and some perspective, and maybe the students actually understand that it's the end and either they have some appreciation for all these years or are just afraid that I could flunk them all and by the time I'd have to answer for my crimes I'd already be overseas (that's not my serious theory). Anyway, it's been a good start to the semester. Of course, I'm teaching a couple classes on Journey to the West, which is a prefect fit for their interests, and two classes on Fascism, which is obviously a perfect if grim fit for this particular moment in time, so that may also play in my favor.

Thanks to Dejon Brissett for loaning me the number of eighteen for today. Brissett, a native of Mississauga, Ontario, graduated from Virginia, before returning north to play for the Toronto Argonauts (essentially, his hometown team). He's a wide receiver, and won two Grey Cups with the Argos (2022 and 2024). Last year was his best year, and he's newly signed with the Calgary Stampeders.

Movies in 2026 54

 

I Am a Fugitives from a Chain Gang, (Mervyn LeRoy, 1932)

I'm continuing to work through the Mervyn LeRoy collection from the Criterion Channel. I've enjoyed them so far, and they've all been new treats. The other day I actually watched one of his films that I had seen before, and I had been saving it because it's a really good film - and a film that features one of the great endings: I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang. Paul Muni plays James Allen, a man who, through some terrible luck, ends up on a southern chain gang. He eventually escapes, rises to prominence, but he's captured and, willingly, agrees to head back to finish out his sentence. Instead of the ceremonial slap on the wrist, which he was promised, he finds himself facing years more on the chain gang, before once again escaping again. The final image, Muni disappearing back into the darkness because he knows he'll never find peace, is a classic. Muni was, as always, great in the role. It's a great and important film because it shed a national light on the inhumanity of the southern chain gang system, and led to reform. It's sad to think that there was actually a time when we, as a nation, could feel moral outrage at something and push for a better world. Obviously, highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 53

 

Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Period of Time, (Lili Horvat, 2020)

And, once again, the Criterion Channel came through with another director that I didn't know about - but that I clearly needed to know about. Last night I watched the Hungarian director Lili Horvat's Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Period of Time. It tells the story of two successful doctors who meet at a conference in New Jersey (or maybe the don't) and agree to meet up on the Pest side of the Liberty Bridge in Budapest a month later (or maybe they don't). Natasa Stork plays Doctor Marta Vizy (or, more appropriately in Hungarian, Stork Natasa and Vizy Marta - I always had to try and keep this in mind back in the days of my GM program because we had partners in Hungary) who had left Hungary twenty years earlier for an impressive career in the US, before meeting (almost certainly) Doctor Janos Drexler (Viktor Bodo) at the conference. In her mind, they agree to meet, romantically, a month later at 5:00 p.m. Not only does Janos not show up, when she tracks him down he claims to not know her. In the meantime, she has quit her job and moved back to Hungary. As she tries to unravel this mystery - and begins to doubt her sanity - we follow their love affair (or maybe not). I liked it quite a bit, and both the leads were very good - and mysterious - in roles that could have turned out to be tropes, but, thankfully, were not. Definitely recommended. It made me want to go back to Budapest.

19

 And we've passed onto the teens, which means that by the end of the week I'll only have eighteen active teaching days left. Thanks to Bo Levi Mitchell for his help in commemorating another passage.

I've had the pleasure of seeing Bo Levi Mitchell play in person a couple times, and will again one more time this year. He grew up in Katy, Texas and played at SMU and Eastern Washington. He's an all-time great in the CFL (and doubtless a future Hall of Famer). He played most of his career with the Calgary Stampeders, winning two Grey Cups along the way and winning two Most Outstanding Player awards. He owns some pretty amazing individual passing records, including some more team-based records such as most consecutive wins by a starting QB (14), fastest QB to 60 wins (72 starts) and 100 wins (144 starts). He's played the last couple years with the Hamilton Tiger-Cats, and the hope was that he'd help them break their Grey Cup jinx (they have the longest current drought in the CFL), but they lost in heart-breaking fashion in the Eastern Finals to the Alouettes last year. I think he's now top ten in most passing categories. 

What It Means

 This morning I got up early (which isn't particularly surprising) so that I could head down the hill to the Calais Town Hall by 6:45 to volunteer for the special election on the future of the Calais Elementary School. I've volunteered at several elections over the years, and it's something that I like to do - and to give back to this amazing community. It really hit home with me this morning, however, for a couple reasons. First off, obviously, is that the clock is ticking on our time here, and it's already filling me with these bittersweet emotions. Secondly, I didn't get home last until 8:30 because I was up late teaching my Monday Images of Fascism class. That's a jarring clash of ideologies and emotions. It also struck me that things like this are the present administration's nightmare, not because I'm important (because it would be difficult to imagine someone less important than me), but because that combination - people learning about Fascism and also actively supporting democratic institutions (and community) - is not what the authoritarians want. They would prefer an ignorant and disengaged citizenship, not folks who are paying attention and fighting back, even in quietly by getting up early to spread the de-icer and check people into the system.

Obviously, there's no vetting process here.

This is also the building where we hold the Calais Historic Preservation Society meetings, so it just screams community to me.

Movies in 2026 52

 

Shoah, (Claude Lanzmann, 1985)

I can remember the first time I saw Claude Lanzmann's brilliant documentary on the Holocaust, Shoah, back in the 1980s. The entire nine and a half hours had played over four nights on Cincinnati public television. Shortly thereafter I was sitting in the history graduate school TA room and trying to express how profound an experience it was to watch it, and one of the other graduate students said that I guess the watching it over four nights was OK, but that it couldn't compare to sitting in a movie theater watching all nine and a half hours straight through. I remember thinking that this is exactly why so many people hate academics. It's odd, and sad, that that memory always pops up, as compared to simply jumping right into what makes this such an extraordinary and essential film. If you've never seen Shoah, it's not like Alain Resnais's 1956 documentary Night and Fog; that is, there are no scenes of  Jewish bodies being bulldozed into mass graves (a necessary, although painful, vision that, unfortunately, keeps too many people from watching it - and we desperately need to be watching it at this moment in American history). Instead, Lanzmann's film focuses on interviews filmed in the 1980s, which are often played over scenes of Auschwitz or Treblinka in fog or snow, which makes it all more ghostly and somehow eternal. One of the things that makes it work is that he interviews folks who remember the Jews being taken away with almost casual indifference or even humor, which helps to express the fact that anti-Semitism was/is not a simple unfortunate moment in time. Some of the most powerful moments center around secret recordings of a former prison camp guard as he discusses life in the camp, including his boisterous singing of the death camp song that they made the Jews sing. I'm showing part of it this week in my Images of Fascism class, which required me finding a way to reduce nine and a half hours down to no more than an hour and forty minutes to show in class. It's powerful and sobering and hopefully illuminating material. I invested in buying a beautiful Criterion Collection six-DVD edition a couple years ago, and this is the first (and, well, the last) time I'll ever get to show it in class. Highly recommended. 

Ramadan 2026

Every year I try to post the Ramadan schedule, although when it's sent around as a pdf as compared to a .doc file it's a little more challenging. If nothing else, I'll try and the parameters and some initial thoughts. Ramadan begins the evening of Tuesday, 17 February (the month of fasting begins nine days earlier every year) and ends of evening of Thursday, 19 March. As compared to Ramadan falling in the middle of summer, the fasting is much more manageable (especially for old men of declining health). The first official day of fasting is Wednesday, 18 February, with the fast running (here in central Vermont) from 5:28 a.m. to 5:26 p.m. By the end of the month, and after the time change, the fasting will run from 5:37 a.m. to 7:04 p.m. That is, as the days get longer the fasting will get longer as well. Still, as compared to a Ramadan that falls in the middle of the summer, fasting during this period of the year can feel more like skipping lunch. However, as I am wont to opine, the fasting pales in significance to the importance of the Quranic reading and study (as always, mine is the minority opinion on that front). Obviously, I'll have much more to say during this sacred month.

Very Vermonty

 

Yes, because, well, #YankeeHellhole (it's 63 and sunny in Catania right now). I think I'm posting this for two reasons, both related to the fact that our Unofficial Book Club is meeting this morning at the Maple Corners Community Center. First off, it's telling that no one in the group sent around an email proposing that we postpone the meeting because of the dangerous cold (it's Vermont, after all, and Vermonters are a generally rugged crew). Secondly, we always meet at 10:30 on Sunday morning, and at no point has anyone suggested that we not meet on Sunday mornings (Vermont is, statistically, the last religious state in the union - by a fair margin - so this is completely understandable). 

Movies in 2026 51

 

Three on a Match, (Mervyn LeRoy, 1932)

 
I continue to work my way through the Pre-Code Mervyn LeRoy collection on the Criterion Channel. Sometimes, when I'm tired, their shortness and oversized theatrics is a welcome. That doesn't mean that they are just flighty entertainment, and it would be grossly unfair to consider them as such. The very fact that so many of them caused "outrage" among the religious leaders of the time, and eventually led to the Code, speaks to the fact that they were talking about things that "polite" society didn't approve of and didn't think should be part of the national cultural dialogue. Rather, there are nights when you just find yourself saying, I don't think I'm up for Kieslowski or Bergman or Trier tonight, but an hour and five minutes of pre-Code bad behavior is a fitting nightcap. Last night I finished LeRoy's 1932 film Three on a Match. It was kind of a mess, mainly because I think they were trying to tell about three hours of story in an hour and five minutes. If nothing else, it's notable for the appearances of a very young Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart. Davis is one of the three main stars, although with the smallest and least-demanding role, and Bogart doesn't pop up until around forty-five minutes into the movie (as always, as soon as Humphrey Bogart strides onto the screen everybody else disappears into the background, such is that strange cinematic magnetism that he always possessed). It tells the story of Mary (Joan Blondell), Vivian (Ann Dvorak), and Ruth (Davis), who grow up together, but then go their separate ways, before reuniting with unforeseen (some good, some terrible) consequences. I'm sure several things grabbed the attention of the more puritanical viewers, mainly Vivian cuckolding her attorney husband Robert (played by Warren William, in a classic Warren William role) with Michael (Lyle Talbot, in a typically slimy Lyle Talbot role) - and, by the end, Vivian clearly being a coke addict (emphasized by the fact that Bogart, smiling to the other members of the gang, brushes his fingers under his nose). Like I said, it's kind of a mess, especially with a kidnapping thrown in with exactly ten minutes left in the movie - and it's frustrating for a film buff to see Davis and Bogart given so little to do (but, again, they were just getting started - and in that sense it's kind of cool to see them) - but, all things considered, I'd recommend it. If for no other reason it does give you a sense of what eventually led to the disastrous Code a few years later.

Ketchup or Catsup?

 I'm chronicling a very odd moment from yesterday's Breakfast of Excellence, my routinely scheduled Friday morning breakfast with my friends at the TASTee Grill. At a certain point, after we'd finished our traditional meals (we actually never order, we just sit down at the waitress brings the same four selections) when Erik pulled out a penny and asked me to pass the ketchup. He wanted to determine the date, which I initially thought related to a discussion of the value of that particular vintage of currency, but I think he was then going to ask us what we thought the most important thing that had happened in that year. So, why the ketchup? Apparently, ketchup, because of its acidity, was/is good for cleaning coins (or at least pennies), and Erik assured us that he used this method all the time when he was growing up in Burlington. Kevin then assured that this was well known, and I had to admit that once again the Indiana education system had failed me. I decided to capture this moment in time because I thought it said something about lovely, odd, organic nature of long-term friendships. None of us thought that it was odd at that moment that Erik decided to clean an old penny with ketchup, and it immediately launched us into this meandering discussion of somewhat related subjects, including Sandy relating his father, a very successful attorney, and his decades-long quest for found coins and elaborate theories on the best places to find them (he didn't collect coins, rather, he just saved them in a special pile and used them to occasionally take his wife out to dinner; he took her out to eat at many times, but the coin-generated meals was an acknowledged special treat). I cannot do justice to how much I will miss these guys next year.

I didn't get to ask whether or not the cleaning required ketchup or catsup because, in the end, the penny was so damaged that the date could not be recovered. It was so light that it almost had the weight of a similar circle of cardboard, weird. 

Movies in 2026 50

 

Heat Lightning, (Mervyn LeRoy, 1934)

I'm meandering my way through the Criterion Channel's Mervyn LeRoy's Pre-Code collection. They're short and gritty and entertaining and often quite good, and you can clearly get a sense of how Hollywood (and the US film industry as a institution) took a step back with the implementation of the Code. There is that Puritanical, anti-intellectual aspect to American thought and life which sadly never seems to go away, and we never benefit from it. The other night I watched LeRoy's 1934 film Heat Lightning. It starred Aline MacMahon as Olga. She and her sister Myra (Ann Dvorak) run a gas station in the middle of an ungodly hot desert in the southwest, and their tranquil life (perfectly tranquil for Olga, stifling for Myra) is threatened by the arrival of Olga's ex George (Preston Foster) and Jeff (Lyle Talbot), who crooks on the run. It's essentially a pre-film noir film noir. I'm not saying insanely highly recommended, but I also definitely enjoyed it so I'd recommended giving it a look. It was great to see Aline MacMahon, who had a very long career as a character actor, finally get a chance to star in a movie.

20

 And another week has passed, four down and only ten to go, in my last semester of my four-decade career as a college professor. It hasn't overwhelmed me yet, although I suspect it will several times along the remaining time in unexpected ways.

Thanks this week to Brady Oliviera of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers for helping out with the countdown. He was actually born in Winnipeg, and, after playing collegiately at the University of North Carolina, he returned to play professionally for his hometown team. Oliviera remains one of the CFL's best running backs (and I suspect they would have won one or two more Grey Cups in their five year run if they had simply given him the ball more - sometimes teams do outsmart themselves). He is a two time Grey Cup Champion, a two time Most Outstanding Canadian, and was voted the Most Outstanding Player in 2024. It looks like the Winnipeg/Saskatchewan doubleheader is a go for this July, so hopefully I'll be able to watch him play a home game (I've seen him play in Montreal).

Movies in 2026 49

 

Love, (Dag Johan Haugerud, 2024)

The other day, when singing the praises of Dag Johan Hargerud's Dreams and his Oslo trilogy, I mentioned that I had loved Dreams so much that I had almost immediately started Love (how all three members of that trilogy all came out in the same year boggles the mind; although, if you're filming actual people talking in actual locations that depend upon CGI nonsense, I guess many things are possible). I don't know if I liked Love as much as Dreams, but that is no critique because I really liked it and also completely recommend it. The action centers around Marianne (Andrea Braein Hovig), a urologist, and her nurse Tor (Tayo Cittadella Jacobsen), and her discovery that he takes additional trips on the ferry simply to meet or pickup men, and she begins to wonder if his casual/transitional view of sex might not actually be the best approach, at least for her. By the end of the movie you're not certain that he believes that to be true anymore, but her own sexuality is blossoming while also facing challenges based on her own ideas. The relationships and sex, both heterosexual and homosexual, are handled naturally and sympathetically and beautifully. Again, highly recommended. As I proposed when discussing Haugerud's Dreams, it's so reassuring to watch intelligent films dealing with real issues, when we're surrounded by such crass idiocy.

Translations

 I've started another re-read of Proust, which I think is my fifth total reading. The big difference this time is that I'm switching translations, from the traditional standard edition of C.K. Scott Moncrieff's Remembrance of Things Past to the new Penguin Classics In Search of Lost Time. Each of the seven volumes of the new Penguin Classics series is translated by a different person, which should make for an interesting experience. I don't speak French so I'm a poor judge of which is the "correct" version, and I would not pretend to be. They're both beautiful. Some of the differences in the new translations are slightly jarring, but that's mainly because I'm used to the C.K. Scott Moncrieff version. Let me give a brief comparison of one of my Proustian paragraphs from Swann's Way, first from Moncrieff and then from Lydia Davis's award winning translation.

"But it was in vain that I lingered beside the hawthorns - inhaling, trying to fix in my mind (which did not know what to do with it), losing and recapturing their invisible and unchanging odour, absorbing myself in the rhythm which disposed their flowers here and there with the lightheartedness of youth and at intervals as unexpected as certain intervals in music - they went on offering me the same charm in an inexhaustible profusion, but without letting me delve any more deeply, like those melodies which one can play a hundred times in succession without coming any nearer to their secret. I turned away from them for a moment so as to be able to return to them afresh. My eyes travelled up the bank which rose steeply to the fields beyond the hedge, alighting on a stray poppy or a few laggard cornflowers which decorated the slope here and there like the borders of a tapestry whereon may be glimpsed sporadically the rustic theme which will emerge triumphant in the panel itself; infrequent still, spaced out like the scattered houses which herald the approach of a village, they betokened to me the vast expanse of waving corn beneath the fleecy clouds, and the sight of a single poppy hoisting up its slender rigging and holding against the breeze its scarlet ensign, over the buoy of rich black earth from which is sprang, made my heart beat as does a wayfarer's when he perceives upon some low-lying ground a stranded boat which is being caulked and made sea-worthy, and cries out, although he has not yet caught sight of it, 'The Sea!'" (Swann's Way, p. 151, C.K. Scott Moncrieff translation)

"But though I remained there in front of the hawthorns, breathing in, bringing into the presence of my thoughts, which did not know what to do with it, then losing and finding again their invisible and unchanging smell, absorbing myself in the rhythm that tossed their flowers here and there with youthful high spirits and at unexpected intervals like certain intervals in music, they offered me the same charm endlessly and with an inexhaustible profusion, but without letting me study it more deeply, like the melodies you replay a hundred times in succession without descending further into their secrets. I turned away from them for a moment, to accost them against with renewed strength. I pursued, all the way onto the embankment behind the hedge that rose steeply toward the fields, some lost poppy, a few cornflowers which had lazily stayed behind, which decorated it here and there with their flower heads like the border of a tapestry on which there appears, thinly scattered, the rustic motif that will dominate the panel; infrequent still, spaced apart like the isolated houses that announce the approach of a village, they announced to me the immense expanse where the what breaks in waves, where the clouds fleece, and the sight of a single poppy hoisting its red flame to the top of its ropes and whipping it in the wind above its greasy black buoy made my heart pound like the heart of a traveler who spies on a lowland a first beached boat being repaired by a caulker and, before catching sight of it, cries out: 'The Sea!'" (Swann's Way, p. 141, Lydia Davis translation)

Again, I'm not going to presume to comment on which is the more accurate or "better" translation. I may be generally ridiculous, but not that ridiculous. The line, "But it was in vain that I lingered beside the hawthorns," is one of my all-time favorite lines from Proust, so it was strange to see it rendered so differently, although how Davis interprets it is wonderful. I know that I've appreciated the power and beauty and profundity of Moncrieff's translation with every re-read, and I'm sure the same will be true with the new Penguin Classics editions. It reminds me of my Muslim friends who assure me that you can never truly grasp the beauty of the Quran until you can read it in Arabic, and I'm sure the same is true of Proust and French. For some time I've been thinking about writing a novel about an old man who learns he's going to die, and decides he's only going to read Proust endlessly until he passes, so that he's assured of dying in beauty.

Movies in 2026 48

 

Dreams, (Dag Johan Haugerud, 2024)

It's really difficult to express how much I love and appreciate the Criterion Channel, and not simply because they provide me with more good movies than I could possibly watch in a month. I'm introduced to so many directors and actors that I would never come across is I just depended upon HBO Max or Prime, etc. One of this month's special collections focused on the Norwegian director Dag Johan Haugerud and his Love/Sex/Dreams trilogy, all of which came out in 2024. I started off with Dreams, which won the Golden Bear at the Berlin International Film Festival. The film focuses on Johanne, a high school student who falls in love with her French teacher, Johanna. Throughout the story Haugerud keeps you guessing about whether the love affair was consummated or not, but then realizing that in the end does it matter. A year after the end of the affair Johanne writes down the story, which she shares with her grandmother and her mother, who have dramatically different interpretations about what this means, including coming to the realization that this is a story that could be published, and does that trump any concerns about the young girl writing the story. It's so intelligent and beautifully filmed and acted, and I started watching his Love almost immediately. How could you not love someone like Dag Johan Haugerud, who lists himself as a librarian, novelist, screenwriter and film director - in that order. The other thing about the Criterion Channel that makes me happy is that it gives me hope for the future. There are actually people out there making intelligent, personal films, and not just adaptations of comic books and video games. Very highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 47

 

Little Caesar, (Mervyn LeRoy, 1931)

The Criterion Channel has a new collection of pre-Code films directed by Mervyn LeRoy. Because they're pre-Code they're a little rougher and not marked by definitive moral lessons. The first film I watched was LeRoy's Little Caesar, starring Edward G. Robinson in a star-making role as the gangster  Caesar Enrico "Rico" Bandello, and co-starring Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. as his friend Joe Massara, who doesn't want to me a gangster anymore and would simple prefer to be a professional dancer with his girlfriend Olga Stassoff (Glenda Farrell). It was entertaining and started gangster film genre.

21

 My final 21st official day at Champlain was also an odd day, as it was last Monday when we buried unto a foot and a half of snow. Yesterday I was sick as a dog, so I carried out class from here at the cabin. Still, not every day is a pretty one - but it is still a day.

Today it is Simoni Lawrence who is helping me celebrate mu retirement countdown. Lawrence attended college at the University of Minnesota, and, like a lot of CFL players, had repeated stops on NFL practice squads (St. Louis Rams, Philadelphia Eagles, Chicago Bears, Tampa Bay Buccaneers, and Minnesota Vikings) without ever appearing  in a game. But still, he persisted, playing along the way for the Hartford Colonials and Las Vegas Locomotives (both of the United Football League). Eventually he found his way north, playing one season for the Edmonton Eskimos before settling in for a long-run with the Hamilton Tiger-Cats. He holds the Hamilton record for most tackles and defensive tackles, and the CFL records for most tackles in a game (17).  Lawrence is also a three-time winner of the James P. McCaffrey Trophy, given three times to the best defensive player in the East Division.