Movies in 2026 168

 

Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978)

After watching John Carpenter's The Thing the other night, I guess it was inevitable that we'd end up watchin his 1978 classic Halloween a couple nights later. Somehow Janet (who I always accuse of growing up in a nunnery) had never seen Halloween. It is definitely on the short list for greatest independent films of all time (Carpenter made it for $300,000 and in its initial run it made $70,000,000).  It also inspired an entire genre of movies, most of which, sadly, were terrible (including his own Halloween II). I've always thought that it was much more like a Hitchcock film than a Romero gore fest, with most of the shocks being based on timing and suspense. Movie fans will love the kids watching the beginning of The Thing From Another World on TV, a film that Carpenter would himself remake four years later (and certainly could not have dreamt of the budget for that film when he was making Halloween. Required viewing.

This Dreadful Hour

 This dreadful hour when I shrink to being possible or rise to mortality. If only the morning wouldn't dawn. If only I and this alcove and its interior atmosphere where I belong could all be spiritualized into Night, absolutized into Darkness, so that not so much as a shadow of me would remain that could taint, with my memory, whatever lived on. 

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, text 185

This passage from Pessoa seems to fit the mood I'm in, and the terrible liminality that haunts me.

Other Spaces

 As I mentioned earlier, yesterday was an emotional day, mainly in a wonderful way, but also more than a bit elegiac. Yesterday I emptied out my office. Everyone knows I'm retiring - and I'm filling out a lot of related paperwork - and there have already been two retirement parties - but seeing the desk sitting there cold and depersonalized carried a dreadful finality. Every time I've sold a house over the years and I walked out of it for the last time, I've always thought back to an early Japanese poem, which says (I may be paraphrasing): "Someday someone else will celebrate the Festival of Dolls in your house." That is, your house is your home because of the people, your loved ones, who are in it. I reflected upon that yesterday when I looked at my desk, a desk that could be used by literally anybody next year - sitting in an office that could be used by literally anybody next year. Any remnant of who I am and how hard I worked and what I accomplished will dissipate in a few months, if it lingers that long. I told Janet that one of the strangest things about retirement so for is that for the first time in over forty years I don't have another space. When I was in graduate school at UC, I shared the history graduate TA office and even managed to carve off an unused office for my own purposes when I ended up teaching a year-long large western civilization class. I did the same thing when I was teaching adjunct classes at Franklin College while I was finishing my dissertation. During my nine years at Georgia Perimeter College I had two offices.  Throughout twenty-nine years at Champlain I've had six offices (one in Joyce, one in the library, three in Aiken, and finally one in Wick). I even had offices when I taught in India and the UAE. When I was offered the job at Hong Kong University they went out of the way to show me my office and where my staff would be. The point being that I always had a separate secondary space, and now I don't. For some reason I find that very unsettling. I'm very happy at home, certainly much happier than I've been for the vast majority of those forty years, but you get used to the existence of those other spaces and the freedom and tangibility that they represented.

I'll still pop in throughout the end of June. It's a nice space to sit and write when I'm up in Burlington, and, of course, to spend time with any of my friends who are around. However, soon all too soon, the buildings won't recognize the card swipe (stupid metaphor, working overtime)

Movies in 2026 167

 

The Idle Class (Charlie Chaplin, 1921)

Now that I've entered the idle class, or at least the more idle class, it seemed an oddly well-timed moment to watch Charlie Chaplin's 1921 film The Idle Class. I didn't choose the film for that reason, but life has an odd sense of humor. Chaplin played two roles, the Little Tramp and a generally tipsy upper class wanker, while his long-standing co-starred Edna Purviance played the wife of the latter and mistaken love interest of the former. It's not nearly my favorite Chaplin film, although I liked it. Recommended.

A Microcosm

 Last night I was blessed to have dinner with a couple of my all-time favorite students, Maeve and Ronan. They knew I was retiring, and they wanted to take the opportunity to grab dinner and get caught up. They make up a tiny microcosm of the six-thousand students I taught over the decades, but I will happy take them as stand-ins for the rest. It was an emotional day, and getting to finish it with these amazing young people was a gift.

Besides being great students and folks heading out into very promising careers, they were also two of the folks who founded the non-profit to support the refugee school in Jordan. They are exactly the reason why I did what I did for so may years.

Movies in 2026 166

 

The Thing (John Carpenter, 1982)

After watching Christian Nyby's (or Howard Hawks's) original 1951 The Thing From Another World last week, last night I was able to re-watch John Carpenter's 1982 version The Thing. Janet had forgotten that we had watched it a couple years ago, but about five minutes in the memories began to kick in. As I've stated previously, I think both versions are fantastic, although obviously in very different ways. I knew that they were both based on John Campbell's 1938 novella Who Goes There?, but I assumed that the 1951 film was probably closer to the novella, whereas Carpenter had gone rogue. However, a little research indicated that actually Carpenter's version is closer to Campbell's story. I just downloaded Campbell's story on my Kindle, so I'll be better positioned to add to this commentary soon. It could just be that in 1951 Nyby/Hawks figured that America needed a happier ending than Campbell wrote, especially since a creature which could imitate anything to go unnoticed might have seen as a direct commentary on Communism (and, who knows, maybe that was Campbell's original intent - I'll check back soon on that one). Anyway, both The Thing From Another World and The Thing are highly recommended - and thanks to the Criterion Channel for the doubleheader.

A local cartoon from this week's Seven Days, which gives you a sense of how Carpenter's version has entered the cultural lexicon.

Buon Natale

 And here's another shot from Venice, which was waiting patiently on my phone for some attention. It's not a great picture, but it made me happy nonetheless. 

It boggles the mind that we'll be celebrating the holidays in Sicily next year.

That Would Have Helped

 I stumbled across this picture the other day, and decided to finally get around to posting it. The odd thing is that I had already saved it to my laptop's desktop, so it's not as if my phone randomly decided to remind me of something that I had somehow forgotten. Essentially, I'm not very efficient at getting things posted to my blog. I'm up for 3400 posts, but there are times when I feel that there are another thousand pictures or stories patiently waiting in the queue. This picture is only a year and a half old, as compared to ones that I snapped two decades ago which are still floating in the ether. On our first trip to vaporetto (the water taxi that conveys folks up and down the Grant Canal in Venice, which I inevitably call the velociraptor) we were only planning on heading up three or four stops, but didn't really understand the logistics; essentially, we were curious to how many stops were on the route and when they would turn around and head back. We were also wondering why there was no sign on the vaporetto that would provide that information. Anyway, we decided to blow by the Rialto Bridge and figure out for ourselves. About the time that we entered open water we understood our mistake. Plus, they weren't planning on turning around, but instead were making a long circuitous route. And, of course, there was no restrooms. By the time we reached where we had climbed on originally (our in front of the Metropole, where we were staying), we asked if we could just stay on for the three stops to get to our original intended location - only to have the guy explain that they were going to turn around and head the opposite direction. Beyond having to pay for another trip, Janet also had to use the restroom - so she jumped off the water taxi and ran back to the Metropole. It was sort of a metaphor for our entire series of misadventures on that first trip to Venice.

Anyway, the next day we climb back on the water taxi and the captain picked up the sign and hung it for all to see (which the previous day's captain have never gotten around to doing). So,, now we have it figured out. Once we're settled in Venice we'll head back to Venice several times, and hopefully avoid being such rubes in the future.

Movies in 2026 165

 

Solaris (Andrei Tarkovsky, 1972)

For some inexplicable reason, I had somehow never seen Andrei Tarkovsky's 1972 film Solaris. I certainly wasn't ducking it, and I've liked the other films of his that I've seen (Mirror, Stalker). Anyway, I found got around to watching Solaris, and I will doubtless be watching or re-watching his other films (happily, the Criterion Channel has a healthy lineup of Tarkovsky films). Like his other films, Solaris is complex and challenging, and at the end you're not quite certain what you just saw, but you're awfully glad that you made the journey. It's science fiction, and the purest form of science fiction, that is, asking difficult questions and not relying upon shallow special effects (that is, US science fiction). Psychologist Kris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis) heads to Solaris to figure out why the scientists there are experiences bizarre hallucinations, only to find that his dead wife Hari (Natalya Bondarchuk) keeps returning from the dead and committing suicide. There's a lot of rumination on memory and loss and meaning, thus classic Tarkovsky. Highly recommended. Mirror and Stalker are back in my queue, along with Tarkovsky films I haven't seen.

Movies in 2026 164

 

My Dad Is 100 Years Old (Guy Maddin, 2005)

Guy Maddin is another one of those directors who I was introduced to by the Criterion Channel, and I loved his My Winnipeg (and not simply because we're heading there in July). This morning I watched his short film My Dad Is 100 Years Old. It was written by and starred Isabella Rosselini, and it was a tribute to her father Robert Rosselini. There were parts about it that I loved, including Isabella Rosselini playing Federico Fellini, Alfred Hitchcock, Charlie Chaplin, and her own mother, Ingrid Bergman. Her father being played by a large stomach (she remembers curling up on his tummy, so on one level I get it), I liked less. It definitely made me want to go back and watch more Roberto Rosselini films. 

A Gift of Excellence

 Of all my friends (and, again, I have more friends than I can justify), the one who is respected for giving the best gifts (and for being an all around great friend) is my friend and office-mate Erik. Yesterday he gave me my retirement gift, which were two metal Minnesota Vikings bookmarks. Amazing. Of course, the best part of the present were the incredibly heartfelt comments from Erik and his wife Laura in the card, which I will long cherish.

On the back of both he had "Audeamus" engraved. It's the made-up motto of Champlain College, which has been a long-standing inside joke in our office. I guess it is inspiring to base your goals on "We Will Dare," or whateve3r we translate it as. Mainly, the joke is based on my belief that once you give something a label, especially a self-generated one for publicity, it certainly has no meaning - and I don't think we've had one "daring" moment since we crowd-sourced the motto (unlike the days of Champlain, when that was what we were known for). I told Erik that since the Vikings are featured the motto be the Latin equivalent for "we will fail", which is think is something like deficiemus. Still, it's a sweet gift.

Movies in 2026 163

 

French Cancan (Jean Renoir, 1954)

The Jean Renoir film fest continues, with the latest film being 1954's French Cancan. I sort of had mixed emotions about starting it, but it starred Jean Gabin FFS so that cleared up any misgivings. I'm more of a fan of the 1930s Renoir/Gabin pairings, but I still ended up liking it quite a bit (it really grew on me as the story progressed). It tells the story of the founding of the famous Moulin  Rouge, with Gabin playing Henri Danglard, who manages to avoid bankruptcy while simultaneously starting the new club while sleeping with several women (again, he's Jean Gabin FFS). The main female contestants for his attention of Nini (Francoise Arnoul), Lola, the "Belle Abbesse" (Maris Felix), the Esther (Anna Armendola). Renoir even manages to sneak in Edith Piaf in a small role. The  film's visuals are influenced by key Impressionist painters like Edgar Degar and Pierre-Auguste Renoir (Jean's father, which for some reason always surprises me). I didn't love it, but I liked it quite a bit. It's got a ton of energy, especially as the story moves along. Recommended.

Loyal Fans

 Usually, when I'm crashing in my friend Kevin's spare room on Thursday night in the summer, we always follow a dinner at one of various and sundry restaurants and a trip to Al's for ice cream, we head back to watch the Phillies (KA's favorite team). However, this last Thursday the Phillies were off, so what were our options? Well, as true CFL fans, the obvious thing was to watch a recap of the 2025 Grey Cup (which, of course, we watched live in the very same room in November). 

With the CFL season starting, and the expansion of our CFL fantasy league, the preparation is intense. It also now looks like we're adding a game in Ottawa to our already full slate of games in Hamilton, Winnipeg, and Regina.

Movies in 2026 162

 

Go West (Buster Keaton, 1925)

And my summer-long Buster Keaton film fest is continuing, and I'm clearly becoming a big fan of his. Yesterday I watched his 1925 film Go West, and while it's not nearly my favorite Buster Keaton film, I did still like it a lot. Keaton plays a Hoosier lad named Friendless, who tries his luck as a cowboy. He finds a great love, but it's the cow Brown Eyes, and he has a great adventure to try and save her from the slaughterhouse - while also recusing a thousand head of cattle for his boss, and father of his potential other love. It's a very sweet film, and definitely recommended.

Movies in 2026 161

 

The Exterminating Angel (Luis Bunuel, 1962)

And speaking of rabbit holes, I continue to delve into the Luis Bunuel filmography. Last last I gave a second viewing to Bunuel's 1962 film The Exterminating Angel, which I first watched a few years ago. I remember not particularly liking it, which is strange because I really liked it this time. See my comment in the previous post about the advantages of watching several films by the same director in a bunch, so that you can get a clearer sense of focus and approach. This film features that typically sharp Bunuel scalpel that he takes to the upper classes and the church. It stars Silvia Pinal, who had also worked with Bunuel in Viridiana and Simon of the Desert, although The Exterminating Angel is more of a collective effort. A group of upper class snobs get together for a party, and then discover that they can't leave. All of their societal mores break down as they try to survive, and they are revealed as the hypocrites they are. The phenomenon is repeated at a church at the end, to put an exclamation on the metaphor. Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 160

 

The Human Beast (Jean Renoir, 1938)

The Jean Renoir deeper dive is starting to heat up, as I had recently re-watched La Grande Illusion and The Rules of the Game. Yesterday I gave The Human Beast a second viewing (the first was a couple years ago). I remember liking it, but I definitely liked it a lot more this time. It helps that I'm bunching directors together, which allows me to get a greater sense of their approach, as compared to random one-offs. The film is a brutal psychological study, but also a definite forerunner for film noir. Jean Gabin (who is typically Jean Gabin - that is, awesome) plays the tortured railroad engineer Jacques Lantier, while Simone Simon (who, in the US anyway, is too often simply reminded of her role in the original Cat People) plays Severine Roubaud, who drives a couple men to their doom. Julien Carette (who had also appeared in La Grande Illusion and The Rules of the Game) plays Lantier friend, while Jean Renoir sneaks in as Cabuche, who is falsely accused of a murder. Expect to see more Renoir movies popping up soon. This is also inspiring me to delve into a writer who I have criminally ignored so far in my life: Emile Zola. The Human Beast - along with Germinal and Nana - are part of his twenty novel Les Gougon-Macquart series, which I've also started to download on my Kindle. My excellent friend Sanford has all of them and offered to loan them to me, but the upcoming move makes that an impossibility, so it looks like my new Kindle is going to get a workout. Once I get through my latest Proust re-read, I'm going to tackle Thomas Mann's Buddenbrook, and then it will be on to Zola. The Human Beast is highly recommended, obviously.

Movies in 2026 159

 

Inspector De Luca (Anthony Frazzi, 2008)

Last night we once again visited the world of Italian television detective shows, this time the Inspector De Luca series. We watched the second film in the series, Carte Blanche. It's based on a series of novels by Carlo Lucarelli.  Alessandro Preziosi plays the taciturn Inspector Achille De Luca, who is solving crimes in 1940s Bologna, while trying to navigate between the Fascists and the Partisans. The Inspector had inadvertently saved the life of Mussolini, which makes his suspect in the eyes of the Partisans although he's clearly not a Fascist. It was pretty good, although it's definitely one of those series where you get the sense that it would be much better in the novels (which, of course, makes it representative of almost every movie ever made). Janet can already pick up many of the Italian words, whereas I am typically hopeless. It's worth taking a look.

Movies in 2026 158

 

The Rules of the Game (Jean Renoir, 1939)

And now it looks like I'll be heading down a Jean Renoir rabbit hole. It's not as if I haven't seen a number of Jean Renoir films, but there's so much more to explore and experience. Last night I re-watched his 1939 classic The Rules of the Game. It often tops the list of greatest Jean Renoir films, and I do think I like it even more every time I see it (which is saying a lot). That said, I have trouble imagining that I'd ever pick it over Grand Illusion. The Rules of the Game is a devastating satire of the idiocy and shallowness of the French upper classes, which are focusing on all the wrong things as World War II looms and their world is collapsing around them. Renoir himself plays a key role as Octave, and it was a treat to see him act in his own movie. Nora Gregor (as Christine, Marquise de la Chesnaye) and Marcel Dalio (as her husband Robert - I was just singing his praises the other day when I  was writing about Grand Illusion) are the shallow, disaffected nobles who drive the story forward, although Paulette Dubost (as the maid Lisette) steals the show. I also recognized Julien Carette, who played Marceau, from Grand Illusion. Essential viewing.

Movies in 2026 157

 

The 39 Steps (Alfred Hitchcock, 1935)

Clearly, it was an eclectic film day in the cabin yesterday. Janet was out of town, and I had knocked off some work in the morning, so I gave myself away to a long movie marathon. I wanted to get the taste out of my mouth of Frankenheimer's dreadful 52 Pick-Up, so I finished the evening with a re-watch of Alfred Hitchcock's classic 1935 film The 39 Steps. I think that The 39 Steps is my favorite Hitchcock film, which is not to say that it's my choice for best Hitchcock film, but it's definitely the one that I will happily take every chance to watch. Robert Donat (as Richard Hannay) and Madeline Carroll (as Pamela, initiating the long Hitchcockian tradition of the icy blonde) give wonderful performances, including a fair bit of slapstick. Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 156

 

52 Pick-Up (John Frankenheimer, 1986)

The Criterion Channel features an extraordinary amount of films that I love (obviously), but sometimes I can't imagine why they featured a certain movie. Sometimes, it's just part of an odd collection, and thus I find it sort of charming - at other times I'm mystified. Last night I watched John Frankenheimer's 52 Pick-Up, which definitely fell into the category of: What were you thinking, Criterion? Beyond nice performances from John Glover and Clarence Williams III as villains, this was just a dog. I'm assuming the category must have been: Wow, John Frankenheimer Was Truly Dreadful In The Second Half Of His Career. It's hard to believe that this was the same guy who directed Birdman of Alcatraz, The Manchurian Candidate, and Seven Days in May. Avoid at all costs.

Movies in 2026 155

 

The Thing From Another World (Christian Nyby, 1951)

And this is about as far removed from Blue Is the Warmest Color as you can imagine (and such is the cinematic life of the cabin): Christian Nyby's 1951 classic film The Thing From Another World.  I don't know how many times I've watched this film, but it never grows old. It's part of the current Criterion Channel featured collection on 1980s remakes, where they tie the original to the 80s version - as I mentioned previously, the later remakes are all pretty dreadful, with the notable exception of John Carpenter's reworking of this film (which I will doubtless watch again before it disappears). Over the years, people given Nyby little credit for directing this film, and instead proposing that was really Howard Hawks (who produced it) who did the directorial heavy lifting. On some level I think I believed that, mainly because I've just heard people say it so often (including Michael Weldon in his Psychotronic Guide to Film), but Nyby always kicked back against that notion - and, rightly so, found it insulting. Nyby had worked with Howard Hawks for years, serving as an editor on some of Hawks's classic films, and he proposed that of course his film would have felt like a Hawks's film because of the influence of his mentor. It's a good argument, and I think people haven't given Nyby enough credit for this effort. Anyway, highly recommended.

This always makes me crazy happy.

Movies in 2026 154

 

Blue Is the Warmest Color (Abdellatif Kechiche, 2013)

I actually own a copy of Abdellatif Kechiche's 2013 film Blue Is the Warmest Color, which means that I don't have to wait for the Criterion Channel to feature it in a collection. Of course, I own it because the Criterion Collection snared me with one of their great sales, which is why I'm going to have to find a way to get a ton of DVDs overseas (Janet is doing a much better job culling out books than I'm doing culling out DVDs). The film was controversial - not to the French, because, thank God, they're French - but to an American audience, and it swept the French film awards.  Adele Exarchopoulos (as Adele) and Lea Seydoux (as Emma) play two women locked in an intense love affair, and their performances are extraordinary. I think people got caught up in the lesbian love affair aspect of the story, and somehow overlooked the love affair side of the story. Anyone who has been in a passionate/intense/painful love affair will recognize the emotions, no matter the form that your partner took - and if you haven't experienced an affair as passionate/intense/painful as the one experienced by Adele and Emma then I pity you. Highly recommended.

Evil Twins

 When you see this formation - that is Cici and Mollie - sitting right next to each other on my lap in the morning that only means one thing: Janet had to go out of town for a couple days. Without their mother to follow around, I suddenly get lots of attention. Mollie usually follows me around, as she is the ultimate lap whore, but Cici is either hiding in the walls or keeping Janet company. With Janet missing, I'm suddenly a popular choice.

Happily, Janet will be back today, which means that the cats' long national nightmare will be at an end.

Movies in 2026 153

 

After the Curfew (Usmar Ismail, 1954)

Last night I watched Usmar Ismail's wonderful 1954 Indonesian film After the Curfew. There's a great collection associated with Martin Scorsese and his attempt to preserve classics of world cinema, which has led me to several great films. A.N. Alcaff plays Iskandar, a former freedom fighter against the Dutch who tries to return to a normal life after independence. He has a lovely fiancée, Norma (played by Netty Herawaty), but he's drawn instead to his ex-colleague Puja (Bambang Hermanto) and a prostitute, Laila (Dhalia).The entire film takes place in the space of one day, as he unsuccessfully tries to re-engage into a society that only seems to be interested in him as potential criminal muscle. Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 152

 

The Black Cat (Edgar Ulmer, 1934) 

And here's another viewing after a space of way too many years: Edgar Ulmer's 1934 The Black Cat. This is a result of Janet and I going down an Edgar Ulmer rabbit hole the other night, although I'd hate to think how many times I watched this movie on Saturday night horror movie slots (I'm sure the Cool Ghoul played some role in my first viewing). The was the first of eight films that co-starred Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, both fresh off of their star-making roles in Frankenstein and Dracula. Karloff (as Hjalmar Poelzig) and Lugosi (as Dr. Vitus Werdegast) as old enemies, who had both been in love with the same woman, who finally meet up to settle the score. There's a connecting story about a young married couple (David Manners and Jacqueline Wells as Mr. and Mrs. Allison, but nobody showed up at the theater to watch them). It's pre-Code, so it's a bit over the top and included scenes and themes that would have been unheard of a couple of years later. Required. "Supernatural, perhaps, Baloney, perhaps not."

Movies in 2026 151

 

D.O.A. (Rudolph Mate, 1950)

Over the last couple days I watched two movies that I've seen quite a few times over the years, although not for a while. First off, Rudolph Mate's 1950 D.O.A.. As should be very well-documented by now, I love film noir (as all right-thinking individuals do). The film never makes my short list of greatest films noir, but it's still a must see, obviously. There are things that annoy me about the film, mainly the portrayal of Paula (Pamela Britton), Frank Bigelow's (Edmond O-Brien) girlfriend, although that's more a critique of 1950s America and not her performance, which is fine. Rudolph Mate includes this odd trick early in the film where every time that Frank sees a woman there's this annoying whistle sound, almost as if he was immediately and uncontrollably attracted to the woman, but then changed his mind (it's almost like a measurement of erectile functionality, which I'm sure was not their intent in 1950, but I think that every time I hear it). Once the film hits its stride it's a thrill ride all the way to the finish. Obviously, everyone knows the story: Frank Bigelow, for no particular good reason, is poisoned, and spends his last couple days on earth trying to solve his murder. It's been remade a few times, and I think I should check them out; the Criterion Channel is pairing it with the 1988 Dennis Quaid remake right now, so I guess I'll start there. Recommended.

Movies in 2026 150

 

The Love That Remains (Hylnur Palmason, 2025)

I guess you are kind of a film nut, if not a film whore, if not also a big whopping nerd, when you come up from downstairs and your wife asks, "What did you watch?," and you reply, "Another Icelandic film." Last night I watched Last night I watched Hylnur Palmason's 2025 film The Love That Remains. Last year I had watched Palmason's Winter Brothers (2017) and Godland (2022), both of which I loved - and both of which, especially the former, were pretty grim. The Love That Remains definitely has a lighter touch, although it has some sobering moments. It tells the story of a couple, Anna (Saga Gardarsdottir) and Magnus (Sverrir Gudnarson), who are splitting up, and how they continue to are devoted to each other and their three kids (played by Palmason's own children). There are moments that are very funny and other that are very sad - and other that are more surreal, including the attack of a giant, revenge-seeking rooster. Palmason fashions some scenes that will definitely stay with me, including the large human-like doll hanging from a pole, overlooking the North Sea, that is shown throughout the entire year, and is essentially a character in its own right (including coming to life, sort of, at the end) and an image of Magnus floating in the ocean at the end (real or metaphor, it's left up to you). You get the sense of loss and anger and frustration, but also of enduring love. Highly recommended, as are Winter Brothers and Godland.

Movies in 2026 149

 

Seven Chances (Buster Keaton, 1925)

I'm continuing my deep dive into silent movies, and am becoming a huge Buster Keaton fan in the process. Yesterday morning I watched his 1925 film Seven Chances. Somehow I had never seen it, although I had seen clips of the utterly (and justifiably) iconic scene of him running down a hillside while dodging boulders (how he kept from killing himself is anybody's guess). The more of his films that I watch, the more I understand why he's considered one of the greatest directors of all time. Highly recommended. I'm trying to convince my good friend David Rous that he's a dead ringer for Buster Keaton, which he doesn't see yet, but doubtless will as I pester him about it. 

Potential for Growth

 I just wanted to post a great picture of Gary and Ali that I snapped the other night at the wonderful retirement party that my friends threw me the other night at Queen City Brewery. Their speeches were so heartfelt and loving (and clearly far effusive than can be justified by my meagre virtues), that in the end I was not in the position to thank them. at least collectively, I talked to everyone face to face, as thoroughly as they deserved. I gather pictures and have more to say about this - and the other party - later. I feel very loved and appreciated.

Having Gary and Ali there topped it off. I love them both so much, and will miss them terribly.

Movies in 2026 148

 

Detour (Edgar Ulmer, 1945)

It was definitely Old School night at the cabin last night. After watching silent shorts from Chaplin and Keaton, Janet joined me to re-watch Edgar Ulmer's utterly classic 1945 film noir Detour. It's a film that we both absolutely love, and compete to jump in with the lines as they're spoken.  Ulmer is sometimes referred to as the King of the Bs, as in he's always associated with B movies, but that's pretty unfair. He ended up in that niche and could never quite climb out of it, but he directed the hell out of what he was given and his budgetary restraints. After it was over we started watching a related documentary on Ulmer (the documentary was two and half hours, while Detour is an hour). Ulmer's filmography is amazing, including a series of tuberculous informal films (he was a working director, and he took what was available). Ann Savage completely steals the show as the vindictive, psychopathic Vera - it's an absolutely stunning performance. The movie has aged remarkably well and is now considered a classic, and Savage's performance is the stuff of legend; it's the reason why Guy Maddin cast her as his mother in his docu-fantasia My Winnipeg. This is beyond highly recommended, it is required viewing. I've used it over the years in my Japanese film noir class (as we started the classes by discussing foundational aspects of film noir) and even my students loved it.

Movies in 2026 147

 

Sherlock Jr. (Buster Keaton, 1924)

I'm becoming quite the Buster Keaton fan, and it's about time. I've always liked Keaton, but never really watched enough of his films in a row to truly get an appreciation of him. He's wonderful, and it's hard to imagine a filmmaker who more consistently makes me laugh and gasp than him (while watching, I'm often amazed that he didn't kill himself). Last night I watched his 1924 film Sherlock Jr., which, in addition to some utterly crazy physical stunts, included some truly meta film mischief (his character, who shows movies, walks into the movie he's showing - which has been copied endlessly throughout the years). Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 146

 

A Day's Pleasure (Charlie Chaplin, 1919)

I'm continuing my exploration of short and silent films, and this included last night's viewing of Charlie Chaplin's 1919 A Day's Pleasure. A good family man takes his wife and kids out for a boat ride, which leads to some inspired shenanigans. It's not the best Chaplin, but it's still awfully good, and you should check it out. 

Movies in 2026 145

 

Anatomy of Hell (Catherine Breillat, 2004)

It does seem like I'm re-watching several films (although I've also watched a lot of new ones, obviously), and one of them is Catherine Breillat's 2004 film Anatomy of Hell. I watched it for the first time a couple years ago and didn't like it, and decided to give it another watch and confirmed my initial opinion (although I think I liked it more this time). That said, I don't think it's a film that is meant to be liked, but rather a film that is meant to be experienced, and which is meant to make you uncomfortable. Amira Casar (in a very great and brave performance) plays a woman who tries to slit her wrists in a gay nightclub. She's saved by a gay man, which leads to the first words in the film: Man: "Why did you do that?" Woman: "Because I'm a woman." So, yeah, you know you're in for a bumpy night. The woman hires the gay man (played by Rocco Siffredi, an actual famous porn actor) to watch her for four nights and tell her what he sees. It's very graphic, which I guess explains why Breillat hired an actual porn actor for the role. Actually, I was less put off by the graphic nature of the scenes than by much of the pretty leaden dialogue, especially from the character of the man. Sort of like Belle de Jour, at the end you're not quite certain of what happens, that is, does the man commit an act or imagine that he'd like to commit an act. I can't recommend it, although I've also watched it twice, so clearly I see something there. I think I like the idea of Catherine Breillat making films more than her actual films, to which she'd no doubt say, quite rightly, "who cares?" Maybe I'll check back here later when I inevitably watch it again in three years.

Movies in 2026 144

 

Belle de Jour (Luis Bunuel, 1967)

My latest Luis Bunuel film is one I've actually seen several times: his 1967 masterpiece Belle de Jour. As I've stated previously, I go back and forth on Bunuel, but Belle de Jour is a film I've always liked, and tend to like more upon every new viewing. Catherine Deneuve plays Severine, a bored and sexually frustrated or frigid wealthy woman, who has elaborate sadomasochistic fantasies. At times it's difficult to tell what's reality and what are her fantasies, especially at the end, which can be read different ways. She grows bored and begins working at a brothel in the afternoon, which opens her up sexually, but also leads to disaster (if that's not simply another fantasy). This time the scene that jumped out at me was her killing time in between tricks. Another prostitute is working on a crossword puzzle, and asks, "Carries his father, six letters?" The well-educated Severine replies, "Aeneas, A-E-N-E-A-S." The other woman replies that it makes sense, since the third letter is an N, causing Severine to have a pained expression at the ignorance of her friend, although they are both working at a brothel. It instantly found its way into my book on the Epics. Recommended - that is, Belle de Jour, and not by book, although it would be nice if you bought it if it's ever published.

Sono In Pensione

 Recently I signed up for an online Italian class, because, well, it's time to get serious about beginning to learn Italian.  It's time partially because we'll (if the Italian government and court system play nice, which is probably a big if) be in Italy in a few months, but also because I'm now retired and am more in control of my time from now on (although I have lots of projects lined up, although I guess they're more my personal projects, and I will doubtless prove to be a more harsh tyrant than Champlain). I've tinkered with Duolingo, but I don't think it's really a system that's going to effectively teach you a foreign language, but it's OK for those stretches of five or ten minutes when you have some free time and you want to do something other than doom scroll. Over the last year or so I've also paid for Pimsleur, which I like and don't like. I certainly get more out of it than Duolingo, which may only partially relate to the fact that I'm paying for it, and it has less video game content. What I don't like about it is that you have to listen to a half-hour discussion all the another language before you can begin to get text. I understand that it's just a different way to approach learning a foreign language, but it just doesn't seem to fit with how I learn. Essentially, I need to see the text earlier, which relates to simply not being very good at foreign languages, but also because I'm increasingly hard of hearing. So, if I just listen to it the first time without having access to the text, I simply don't pick up the words. I'm going to keep it, at least through the end of the current term, because it might be useful to hear a different approach, especially during down times in my Italian course. My first course in the online class starts on Monday, and I need to get used to the idea of sitting in a chatroom, and this fills me with dread. It's exactly what I need to do, but I know I'm going to hate it at the beginning because it's going to inspire a ton of embarrassment. That said, I'm not going to survive in Italy by just reading text, I need to be able to chat, so I'll just have to plow ahead. I was watching a video today and how to prepare for our first chatroom discussion, and one of the first important phrases was "sono in pensione" or "I'm retired."

Movies in 2026 143

 

I Am Not a Witch (Rungano Nyoni, 2017)

One of the corners on the Criterion Channel website (which, again, offers me more films than I can ever watch) is the section on Films Leaving This Month. I don't want to be that idiot who had the chance to watch a classic film and somehow missed the opportunity because I didn't get around to it. It also foregrounds films or directors that may have gotten lost in the shuffle, and also puts me on the clock. And I'm glad the Criterion Channel put me on the clock, because this morning I watched one of the best films I've seen in years: Rungano Nyoni's 2017 film I Am Not a Witch. It's a Zambian film that focuses on a nine year old girl who is accused of being a witch, but it's really much more broadly about misogyny and corruption in Africa. Shula(Maggie Mulubwa) ends up accused of being a witch, and ends up being sent to a camp for witches, which is one part tourist trap of one part source for slave labor. Mr. Banda (Henry B.J. Phiri) plays the government official is charged with looking after Shula, but in the end exploits her. The film gets its point across, but it's never clumsy or preachy, and it's both funny and also heartbreaking. I suppose all the time I've spent in Africa, including far too briefly in Zambia, help me appreciate some of the more subtle points, but I think anyone would love this film. Highly, highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 142

 

Viridiana (Luis Bunuel, 1961)

As I work my way through the Luis Bunuel collection - or at least the Bunuel films available on the Criterion Channel - I recently re-watched his 1961 film Viridiana. This is a film that routinely makes Best Of lists, not only of best Bunuel films but more generally of all films, but it's also one that I've never warmed to. It has fine performances (including Silvia Pinal in the title role) and some classic Bunuel moments, but it's also a film that seems almost determined to crowd the screen with as many unlikeable characters as possible. Viridiana is set to take her vows as a nun, but she's ordered by the mother superior to go home to visit her allegedly dying uncle. She gives in, even though she feels nothing towards him and wants to stay in the nunnery. Her uncle Jaime is utterly depraved, and his son Jorge, who eventually arrives with his girlfriend, is just about as bad.  Viridiana decides not to return to the nunnery, but instead brings in as many local beggars as possible in an attempt to do a good deed. While Viridiana and Jorge are away from the house the beggars break into the main house, embark on a drunken orgy, and then almost kill Jorge and rape Viridiana when they return. At the end of the film it is made to appear that Viridiana has given up on her loftier ambitions, and seems to have agreed to a threesome with Jorge and the servant Ramona (how the censors let that one get through is beyond me, which is especially amazing considering that it was the revised ending after the censors balked at the original ending). It's as if the message is that life is simply horrible and irredeemable and it's not worth the effort of trying to fix it. I appreciate the criticism of societal hypocrisy, including another classic Bunuel shot at the church, but, like I said, I've simply never warmed to it. Maybe it's because in the end I do think it's worth the effort to try and make the world a better place, or my lack of sophistication caused by growing up in Indiana leaves me too much of a dope to appreciate the film. No matter what, you should definitely check it out, and feel free to reach out to me and explain my ignorance. It is recognized as a classic film, and, if for no other reason, it's worth a viewing.

A Child's Doll

"No empire justifies breaking a child's doll. No ideal is worth the sacrifice of a toy train."

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, text 454

I think these lines jumped out at me because of the Vermont Public Philosophy Week talk that I gave a couple weeks ago, but also because of the Trumpian horror story that we're living through. My talk focused on Thucydides, especially his Melian Dialogue and how power and empire negatively impacted the Athenians. Many Greeks at the time thought that the Athenian slaughter of the Melians cursed them, but Thucydides wasn't willing to go that far. However, he did make it clear that endless war and aggression and ambition would corrupt human nature. I keep watching these news reports which complain that Trump's unlawful war on Iran was driving up gas prices and how this aggravated people. Somehow, the price at the pump is more important than bombing a girls' school and killing over a hundred children. This is exactly what Thucydides was warning us against. I'm now sixty-six, and it seems like that for my entire life the US has been at war, almost universally punching down at weaker countries. It has so corrupted our soul that we can no longer feel, let alone realize that we have become the bad guys.

Movies in 2026 141

 

Simon of the Desert (Luis Bunuel, 1965)

And, as promised, I'm more deliberately tackling the Luis Bunuel filmography. With that in mind, this morning I watched his 1965 film Simon of the Desert. It very imaginatively and audaciously tells the story of the 5th century Syrian saint Simeon Stylites, who spent over thirty years sitting on top of a series of pillars as part of his devotion to God. Amazingly, he drew followers. I can remember how in my early days of teaching more traditional history classes my students were amazed/appalled by his story. Bunuel does an interesting job both celebrating and parodying him, or at least his parodying his often hypocritical followers. In a classic Bunuel moment the film ends up with Simon (Claudio Brook)  and Satan (Silvia Pinal) in a New York City discotheque. Recommended.

Movies in 2026 140

 

El (Luis Bunuel, 1953)

Over the years it seems like I've seen a lot of Luis Bunuel films, but I think it's been over so many years and in so many different circumstances - essentially, I've watched them haphazardly - that I don't have a true sense of him as a filmmaker. I'm going to do my best to address that. This morning I watched his 1953 film El, which is currently playing on the Criterion Channel. El was filmed during Bunuel's years of exile in Mexico. If you think you have an unhappy marriage, you should watch El and focus in on the marriage of Francisco (Arturo de Cordova) and Gloria (Delia Garces), because you'll feel a lot better about your situation. Both de Cordova and Garces are very good in roles that could have slipped into simple melodrama in the hands of weaker actors and a less talented director. By this point Bunuel had moved beyond his surrealist roots, although several of the scenes hint at his earlier films. Francisco is jealous bordering on pure paranoia, and Bunuel does a great job including critique of a society, including the church and Gloria's own mother who are naturally going to believe the man's side of the story. Highly recommended. Expected to see many more Bunuel films discussed in the near future.

Movies in 2026 139

 

Cat People (Jacques Tourneur, 1942)

The other day I made the point, when talking about how incredible it seems to me that Jacques Tourneur directed Out of the Past (he's not a bad director, but, come on, Out of the Past is an all-time classic), I proposed that Cat People might be his second best film (again, I don't know how passionately I'd make that argument, but I having trouble coming up with a clear #2 on his list). Anyway, this is by way to saying that I watched (for the bazillionith - or at least some number larger than ten) his 1942 film Cat People. Simone Simon (who won the role in a big talent search - mainly they were looking for an actress with an "exotic" look) plays Irena Dubrovna, a Serbian refugee who has dark memories and dreams of her haunted village back home, and who may turn into a black panther if she is sexually aroused. Apparently Simone Simon was dating a double agent at the time of the filming (and the guy later swiped most of her money), and was under investigation. It's not a great film, but there's a reason why I watched it a bazillion (or at least some number larger than ten) times, and you should check it out. Alan Napier, who later played Alfred on the 1960s Batman TV show, is one of Oliver's (Irena's husband, played by Kent Smith) co-workers. Tom Conway, who normally played characters who were a bit too clever or a bit too slimy, played Dr. Louis Judd, Irena's psychiatrist, a character who was both too clever and too slimy, and pays for it with his life. Jane Randolph plays Oliver's non-supernatural love interest, and survives Irena's jealousy, including the iconic swimming pool scene. If nothing else, it's worlds better than the ridiculous 1980s remake (this month the Criterion Channel is featuring 1980s remakes, double-billed with their earlier inspirations - not to give it all away, but with the exception of John Carpenter's The Thing remake of Christian Nyby's - although it might be better to say Howard Hawks's - The Thing from Another World - both are great - the 1980s remakes are crap). 

At Least One Student

 I think there was a time when I was widely and wildly popular with students (and I don't think I'm romanticizing my teaching career), with a few students who actively disliked me and the majority who liked me a lot - and then a few years ago it switched and now most students dislike me and a few like me a lot; which I guess is more proof that it was time to retire. One of the few students who really liked me over the last few years is the excellent Leah Baker, who took me three or four times. She even dragged her boyfriend (not fiancé) out to Adamant for one of my Vermont Philosophy Week Talks a few years ago. I had been presenting on Proust, and I tend to mention Proust so often in class that she had eventually borrowed a copy of Swann's Way (which in the end I just gave to her - I mean, come on, who drags their boyfriend out to Adamant to listen to a talk on Proust? That's pretty epic.). Anyway, Leah is one of my all-time favorite students. Today, completely out of the blue, she emailed me to let me know that they had just moved to Nashville, and she wanted to send me a picture of a section of her bookcase which features books that I either gave to her or suggested to her. She told me that she's having trouble tracking down copies of all the volumes of Remembrance of Things Past, which is not surprising, since most bookstores only stock Swann's Way (to their shame). I think I've found a new home for my old complete copy of Proust.

So, the moral of the story is that at least one student liked my classes.

Movies in 2026 138

 

Sunnyside (Charlie Chaplin, 1919)

I'm continuing my effort to acquaint myself with short films, and that includes working my way through the Charlie Chaplin silent film collection on the Criterion Channel. With that in mind, last night I watched Chaplin's 1919 film Sunnyside. Chaplin's character Charlie (not quite the Little Tramp) works at a shabby hotel is a French village, and he's just about as bad at his work as you could imagine. The scene of him getting in and out of bed at 3:30 is classic. Edna Purviance, per usual, plays his love interest. Recommended.

Movies in 2026 137

 

Lacombe, Lucien (Louis Malle, 1974)

Here's another film that David Chase suggested in his Adventures in Moviegoing section on the Criterion Channel: Louis Malle's 1974 film Lacombe, Lucien. I go back and forth on Malle film, I think it relates to his pacing, and all directors have their own internal clock, and his is always just a tad off with me. However, I also almost universally really like his films (Elevator to the Gallows, Au revoir les enfants, Atlantic City). Lacombe, Lucien was a controversial film when it came out because it addressed the complexity of the French response to German occupation during World War II, that is, while it is easy for the French to romanticize that all Frenchmen fought in the Resistance, there were other French citizens who, for innumerable reasons, supported, even quietly, the Nazis. Pierre Blaise plays Lucien, who initially wanted to join the Resistance, but then, almost immediately, began to side with the Germans. We're never told exactly why Lucien makes this decision, several reasons are hinted out, and I think that's what Malle meant to tell us - it's not that simple. Blaise was a complete amateur, who Malle chose after a lengthy search, and I think this was part of Malle's goal of keeping Lucien's (and many Frenchmen) motives obscure. Blaise was only in three more films, all short within a year, before dying in a drunken car crash at the age of twenty. The actress who played Lucien Jewish lover France Horn, Aurore Clement, looked awfully familiar, and I figured out that I had seen her in Wem Wenders's Paris, Texas - and also in the colonial French scene in the expanded director's cut of Apocalypse Now (Coppola had left it on the cutting room floor in the initial theatrical release, which is a pity because it may be the best scene). Definitely recommended.

Movies in 2026 136

 

Il Sorpasso (Dino Risi, 1962)

One of the many cool things that the Criterion Channel does is include mini-interviews with folks about films they love, in a series they call Adventures in Moviegoing. As a pretty unrepentant film nut I tend to watch all of them, not only because I love to listen to people talk about movies, but also because it introduces me to even more movies that I've never heard of. I was listening to David Chase (of The Sopranos fame) talk about some of his favorite films and was introduced to Dino Risi's 1962 film Il Sorpasso. It is a beloved Italian film which, somehow, I had missed. It tells the story of two men who meet under odd circumstances, form an unlikely friendship, and embark on a two day road trip. The adventure is marked by humor, friendship, desire, and tragedy. Vittorio Gassman (who I remembered from Bitter Rice) plays the irresistible and irresponsible Bruno Cortona, who dragoons the introverted Roberto Mariani, played by Jean-Louis Trintignant (who had a decades-long career, although I suppose I remember him best from his late career role in Krzysztof Kieslowski's Three Colours: Red) into the joyous and tragic road trip (at the very end of the film Robert admits to Bruno that he feels like he's lived his entire life in those two days). In a notable supporting role, 1960s "It Girl" Catherine Spaak plays Bruno's daughter Lilli. I laughed out loud when Lilli calls Robert "Young Werther"; there simply aren't enough cinematic jokes based on Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther). There are moments when one realizes how big of a nerd they are, and it's hard to imagine a more obvious example than recognizing and laughing at a The Sorrow of Young Werther reference in a 1962 Italian film. Highly recommended: Il Sorpasso, not hanging around with me. Thanks to David Chase for the film recommendation.

Movies in 2026 135

 

The Hedonists (Jia Zhangke, 2016)

I've talked about making a more concerted effort to acquaint myself with short films, and obviously I've already watched several. What's easy to forget is that short films are not simply early efforts as a director is learning her or his craft and trying to get noticed, but also options that they'll pursue later when it seems like the best approach for a particular idea. With that in mind, the other night I watched Jia Zhangke's 2016 film The Hedonists, a short film that he directed years after he was already the best director in the world (you know me, I'm never guilty of hyperbole, although I do think he's the best director currently making films). It was very much a Jia Zhengke project, cleverly commenting and critiquing the strange transitional world that China finds itself in. The Hedonists felt like an embryonic cross between his Still Life (2006) and The World (2004). Recommended (keeping in mind that he's my favorite current director).

And That's That

 So here's a picture that I snapped on Thursday night after the students in my last final have shuffled out of the room. I just felt I should record the moment, even if I couldn't quite capture the emotion of that moment (although, as my friend Sheila opined, there's no place lonelier than an empty class room at the end of a class). I sat there for a little bit and soaked up the moment, and cried a few tears. It's been a long run, that began in October, 1982 when I gave my first college lecture. I was TA'ing for a professor and he headed out of town, leaving me to give a lecture on Sparta to a class of 130 students, who were essentially my age (twenty-two). Later I'll have more to say about my feelings as I process this transition, and also my reflections on the state of academia and our students.

And that's that.