Movies in 2026 239

 

Un Carnet de Bal (Julien Duvivier, 1937)

Last night I once again delved into the Julien Duvivier collection on the Criterion Channel, and once again I was not disappointed. Un Carnet de Bal didn't feel quite like some of Duvivier's classic poetic realism films, but it was still quite good. Marie Bell stars as Christine Surgere, a recent and young widow who fells that life now has no meaning, while also coming to grips with the fact that she'd been lonely her entire married life. She decides to pursue men who had signed her dance card on her first ball when she was sixteen years old, beginning an odyssey populated by old (hopeful) lovers, played by a legion of famous French actors: Harry Baur (as Alain Regnault), Pierre Blanchar (as Thierry Raynal). Fernandel (as Fabien Coutissol), Louis Jouvet (as Pierre Verdier), etc. You see this structure fairly often as told from the male perspective, so it was interesting to see it told from a woman's perspective. Her discovered former dance partners - romanticized in her memory and imagination - are leading very different lifestyles, some quite life-affirming and some quite disturbing. The ending is both redemptive and more than a bit disturbing. Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 238

 

Any Number Can Win (Henri Verneuil, 1963)

The other night I rewatched a film that showcased the alpha and omega of French cinematic cool: Jean Gabin and Alain Delon. They starred together (in, I think, for the only time) in the classic heist film Any Number Can Win. The film focuses on Mister Charles (Gabin), a wizened and world weary criminal just out of jail, and his impetuous young partner (Francis Verlot), who try one last big score. It ends badly, mainly because of some bad luck (as had haunted Mister Charles on his two other failed scores) but mainly because of the headstrong carelessness of Francis. The ending is classic, and is the relationship between these two legendary French actors. Highly recommended.

Chipmunk Waffle Waffle Chipmunk

 All relationships - immediate family or friends or with your significant other - all have their own language, developed organically over time. Janet and I will often ask each other, "So, are you getting in the box?", which is a reference to the classic Italian film Mafioso. It essentially means, are you in or not? - or have you been drawn into something against your will? If you're not in on the formation of the linguistic shorthand it sounds like gibberish. Back in college my friends, when discussing beautiful women, would say, "She's some of it," which eventually evolved into "She's most of it," or "She's a remarkably high percentage of it." I don't think any of us remember who came up with the phrase - or, for that matter, exactly what "it" was. For years my Champlain friends and I would always say "phrasing" whenever anyone said something, unintentionally, which could be interpreted sexually. This was a direct reference to the TV show Archer, and we used the term faithfully, even folks who had never seen an episode. Recently, on one of my Thursday sleepovers at Kevin's, we were talking about the Minnesota radio station that Kevin loves (the one that has the They Might Be Giants marathon, that Kevin fixes his schedule around - like a true fan, he takes the day off from work to listen). Kevin will email them quite a bit, and they sometimes respond online, and I'm always telling him that I can foresee this as his post-retirement gig. Anyway, he was telling me about the teenage daughter of one of the station's biggest supporters, who will share emoticons as reviews of restaurants and movies (probably trying to help the terminally uncool older folks become slightly more cool). One of them was to type in Chipmunk Waffle Waffle Chipmunk, which was, at least at that moment, the highest ranking you could get. This quickly became shorthand between us on a text chain to affirm our support for a proposed plan.

This picture could stan in for a lot of the Thursday night excellence - watching the Phillies or CFL or listening to music. I can't tell you how much I'm going to miss this guy.

I have no idea why Chipmunk Waffle Waffle Chipmunk equates with highest approval rating, but it has become a standard means of communication - at least between two old dudes.

Movies in 2026 237

 

The Red Balloon (Albert Lamorisse, 1956)

For years I've heard of Albert Lamorisse's The Red Balloon but had somehow never seen it. Thankfully, the Criterion Channel never gives up on the exhausting chore of educating me (again, growing up in Indiana is hard to overcome). Last night I was finally able to watch it, and what a treasure it is. It tells the story of a young boy (played Lamorisse's son Pascal) who discovers a beautiful red balloon, who follows him around Paris. So many adults and other jealous children try to take the balloon away, and in the end finally destroy it. This leads to all the other balloons in Paris arriving and flying Pascal away. It's an extraordinary allegory of a child's innocence and hope and attraction to beauty, in the face of a cold materialistic world. There's also definitely a spiritual theme playing itself out. Essential viewing.

Movies in 2026 236

 

Pauline at the Beach (Eric Rohmer, 1983)

I know I've admitted before that I'm not that huge of a fan of French New Wave, which is probably more of a testament to my total lack of sophistication. The significance of the French New Wave is undeniable, but I simply go back and forth of so many of the films - loving some films from Jean-Luc Godard and Agnes Varda and Francois Truffaut and Jacques Demy and Alain Resnais, but also being left quite cold by others. Essentially, maybe I'll just fall back on the tried and true, I respect their work immense, but I just don't consistently like it. Similarly, I've been slow to come to the works of Eric Rohmer, and he, I think more than the others, is almost a day to day reflection of what kind of mood I'm in. Sometimes I think, "Please, for the love of god, will you just stop talking," and other days I'll think, "He's really sharing some essential truth here." Last night I re-watched his 1983 film Pauline at the Beach, which I liked a lot more than my first viewing. It focuses on fifteen year old Pauline (played by Amanda Langlet) who tries to figure out life and love and sex, and also why all of the actual adults in the film are such assholes. I would definitely recommend it.

Movies in 2026 235

 

They Were Five (Julien Duvivier, 1936)

I'm definitely enjoying the Criterion Channel's Julien Duvivier collection this month, although I've already seen several of his films. The other night I watched his 1936 film They Were Five, starring Jean Gabin (playing Jeannot), Charles Vanel (as Charlot), and Raymond Aimos (as Tintin). It's a story of five friends, down on their luck, who win some money and decide to open a restaurant on an island, both to make some money but especially as a symbol of their friendship. I think it's a bit too easy to read the film as misogynistic today, mainly because their plans and friendship is torn asunder by the women in their lives, but I think it's more of a statement on the strength and fragility of male friendship - that is, the flaw is within them. Plus, there's a whole deeper allegory going on here abut the rise and fall of the Popular Front, although a failure to take it to that allegorical depth will not damage your enjoyment of the film. Gabin is, as always, fantastic. I didn't know much about Raymond Aimos, who sounds like a very interesting character, who never forgot his friends, organized food drives, and opened up a restaurant to feed hungry children. Nevertheless, he was shot and killed, maybe just accidentally, by a Resistance fighter during the chaos of Paris being liberated. They Were Five is definitely recommended.

The Actual Last Trip to the Whammy Bar

 Last week I posted on what I feared was going to be our last trip to the Whammy Bar, our Friday night tradition. As it turns out, there was one last trip (we're flying out Wednesday, inshallah) as my great friends Kevin and Kerry came out. 

There have been so many goodbyes, which has been both good and bad for my heart. Kerry asked me what I was most looking forward to, and what I should have said is, "An end to all the goodbyes." The ones with Gary and Ali may kill me.

Movies in 2026 234

 

The Last Temptation of Christ (Martin Scorsese, 1988)

I know this is a blasphemous statement, but I'm not really that big of a Martin Scorsese fan. I appreciate his films, but I don't know if I actually love any of them. I've never made a list, but I'm not certain he would make my list of top five greatest American directors. However, this may simply be an issue of a purely personal subjective taste, because I do respect him quite a bit. I especially appreciate his attempts to break away and try different things, such as his adaption of The Age of Innocence. Another example of this was his ambitious attempt to  tackle Nikos Kazantzakis's The Last Temptation of Christ. I had not seen it since the year it came out, and my re-watch the other night left me feeling much the same way: it's both an over-criticized but also over-praised film. The people who criticized it for being blasphemous (and probably never saw it, for that matter) clearly missed the point of the film. It's a spiritual reflection on the unique nature of Jesus's nature and also of faith itself. At the same time, I think it misses far more than it hits, and I suspect that a lot of the critical praise was a response to the criticism from religious fanatics. It's worth watching, and it has some lovely moments.

Movies in 2026 233

 

Zabriskie Point (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1970)

I took a flyer on a film the other night that doesn't have a particularly good reputation (which has never stopped me in the past): Michelangelo Antonioni's Zabriskie Point. I've seen it described as the worst film ever from a director of genius. I don't know if I'd go that far, although it was pretty dreadful, long and mainly pointless. It's hard to reconcile this film with absolute classics like L'Avventura, La Notte, L'Eclisse, Red Desert, and Blowup. It's full of no name actors giving no name performances of uninspired lines. I'd give it a pass if I were you, although it's received a little more love the last few years from critics.

In the Pit

 Last Friday we attended our fourth, and final, CFL game of the season, heading up to Ottawa for a much too short stay. I had seen a game at Ottawa with my friend Sanford years ago, but my return visit had waited way too long. It was a notable trip because 1) Erik joined a small circle of my friends who have attended games at more than one CFL stadium, and 2) Kevin tied me for seeing a game at his 8th (of 9) CFL stadiums. The REDBLACKS are really bad this year, although they're fighting yard (just seriously undermanned), but a good time was had by all. One end of the stadium was missing, replaced by a huge pit. We thought that maybe they were expanding the stadium (it only held 25,000, which is not the smallest CFL stadium, but pretty close), but instead they removed 2500 seats (still not the smallest CFL stadium at 22,500, but getting closer), but instead they're carving off the space for a new arena for the women's hockey team. One of the things about seeing a game in Ottawa, which is cool, is that they are very mindful of the space in a beautiful downtown so they're not tearing anything down to build parking lots (how Sanford and I ever found a place to park last time is a mystery lost to time). Anyway, the space for the new women's hockey arena (and I'm glad they are getting one) had to come from somewhere. It left a huge pit just beyond one of the endzones, and kicks would fairly routinely clear the fence and enter the pit, the ball disappearing.

When a kick would sale over the wall the crowd could cheer, but if a kick would hit the wall and bounce back the crowd would boo. Like I said, the REDBLACKS are pretty bad, so the fans were looking for something to cheer.

If a ball would disappear, the scoreboard would lead a chant of "In . . . The . . . Pit," followed by a song called "in the pit."  Classic CFL.

Movies in 2026 232

 

Pepe le moko (Julien Duvivier, 1937)

The Criterion Channel is currently featuring a Julien Duvivier collection right now, which gave me a chance to rewatch his brilliant and highly influential 1937 film Pepe le moko, one of the highlights of the French poetic realism movement (several other examples of which were featured earlier this year). It stars the immortal Jean Gabin, which is really all you'd ever need to know if you're deciding whether to watch a film or not. He's a French criminal who would really love to get back to Paris, but he's trapped in the winding backstreets of the Algiers casbah. As long as he's ensconced there he's safe, but if he's drawn out then things get much more dangerous. His life is made much more difficult by Inspector Slimane (Lucas Gridoux), who lives in the casbah, and who Pepe knows he should kill, but who he lets live because of his peculiar code of honor - and also because of the two women competing for his attention, Gaby (played by Mireille Balin, whose real life story would make a great novel about France's complicated relationship to World War II) and Ines (Line Noro). Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 231

 

Lars and the Real Girl (Craig Gillespie, 2007)

The other night I was finally able to convince Janet to watch Craig Gillespie's wonderful 2007 film Lars and the Real Girl. I had been pushing it for a while, but after Janet and her friend Jana watched Project Hail Mary the other night she was in the mood for another Ryan Gosling movie. I am always wont to opine that it was Lars and the Real Girl that convinced me that Ryan Gosling is actually a very good actor, and I'll stick with that. It really is a great movie, and one that I didn't bother to watch in the theaters because I, thankfully incorrectly, thought that it looked like a one note sex comedy. It's actually a layered film about loss and love and community. It's also a film that makes me cry every time. Gosling gives a wonderful performance, totally against type, as the bumbling and painfully introverted Lars. Patricia Clarkson (who I believe knows a good script better than any actor alive today) gives a lovely performance as Dr. Dagmar Berman, who helps hold everything together. Emily Mortimer and Paul Schneider play Lars's sister-in-law Karin and her husband Gus (and in many ways the film is as much about Gus's story arc as it is about Lars's). Kelli Garner is funny and heartbreaking as Lars's would-be girlfriend Margo, and my students (I routinely showed this film in class when we discussed Feminist and Queer theory) rooted for Lars and Margo so hard. It's only sad when I think that Gillespie never came even remotely close to directing a film this good ever again. Highly recommended.

Movies in 2026 230

 

Carita de Cielo (Jose Diaz Morales, 1947)

I blew through the Criterion Channel's Rumberas collection (again, that odd, but utterly enjoyable, mishmash of film noir, social commentary, and off the chart musical) when I watched Jose Diaz Morales's 1947 movie Carita de Cielo. It starred Maria Elena Marques and Antonio Badu, although it's mainly, and rightly, known for being Ninon Sevilla's (the greatest star of Rumberas films) first movie. She has two illogical in regards to the plot - but amazing - dance routines. It's amazing how sexually charged her performances were, utterly unlike anything you would have seen in US films at the same time (or for years to come). Beyond her performance the film is forgettable, and it doesn't have any of the social commentary which sparks the other Rumberas films in the collection. Still, it's Ninon Sevilla, FFS, so you might give it a watch.

Movies in 2026 229

 

Hokum (Adam Scott, 2026)

And the second half of my unexpected horror doubleheader was Damien McCarthy's Hokum. It tells the story of a very skeptical writer, who is also more than a bit of a total jerk, who travels to a town in Ireland to spread his parents ashes. I didn't like it as much as Obsession, but I still liked it quite a bit, and there were some very creepy moments. Adam Scott gives a fine performance as the writer. There are so unlikeable characters in the film that it's difficult to care more about them, but it was still a finely crafted piece. Recommended.

The Old Man by the Sea

 Yesterday I pushed a book to the front of my queue, one that I purchased several months ago, but which seemed oddly timely at this moment. Previously, I've championed the New York Review of Books series, which features so many books that have somehow slipped under the radar, and which the editors there feel should get more love. They have almost universally proved to be great choices. I picked up Domenico Starnone's The Old Man by the Sea, before I even realized the almost cinematic joke I was playing on myself.

I recently read Starnone's The Trick, which I liked quite a bit, and I'm looking forward to delving into this latest, The Old Man by the Sea.  I am considering, and here I'm mainly kidding, that I'm going to bring every Italian novel I own on this first trip over, so that I can sit at cafes and attempt to pass as an Italian (that is, until I open my mouth and the illusion coming crashing down). I do want to get Italian versions of the some of the shorter ones that I've already read, hoping that this helps with my Italian lessons.

Of course, it seems particularly appropriate for this moment as we plan for our upcoming move. The process has been challenging, and doesn't seem like it's going to be any less challenging in the near future, but we do have a place to live lined up (not the apartment we wanted) in a sea side town (not the town we wanted), but it's still a seaside town in Italy, which makes my statements above the very definition of #FirstWorld Problems. 

I am an old man and I will be living (and doubtless soon dying) by the sea.

Movies in 2026 228

 

Obsession (Curry Barker, 2025)

Yesterday I enjoyed a rare movie doubleheader (not in the Criterion Channel universe, obviously) when I was able to watch a movie with my son in the afternoon and another one with Janet in the evening. Plus, they were both recent releases, this was almost unheard-of. Gary had texted me in the morning to ask if I wanted to see a movie, and, like all dads, I jumped at the opportunity to spend time with my son (well, not my dad, naturally, but others). He suggested that we watch last year's huge hit, Curry Barker's Obsession, which I had somehow never seen. I don't know what I need to say about it, since I'm probably the last person in North America to see it. I can say that I definitely liked it. It's not a terribly original story, in that it's about a wish for love that goes terribly awry, but it was beautifully constructed - especially the cinematography. Inde Navarette, as Nikki, was especially  good. Highly recommended.

The Legend

 One of the things I was most looking forward to on the Winnipeg trip was to visit the Bud Grant statue outside of the Blue Bombers stadium. As I've discussed way too often, my first introduction to the CFL was, year ago, decades ago, discovering that Bud Grant, then the coach of the Minnesota Vikings, had begun his career coaching in the CFL. Inexplicably, no one at the stadium seemed to understand where his statue was located - they kept directing me to statue for another head coach on the other side of the stadium - which left me a little grumpy, which was stupid on my part because they're doubtless all volunteers. Still, he's Bud Grant FFS! My only defense if that I'm old and my legs are a constant source of great pain, which, I guess, also speaks to my love of the CFL, as these trips are definitely a physical challenge for me. For future reference, he's at the back of the stadium, next to the Blue Bombers store. We didn't get to the statue until after the game, and then I couldn't get back into the store to buy merchandise, which was a very poor business decision  on their part because I would have naturally bought out the store.

Bud Grant is one of only three individuals - along with Warren Moon and Marv Levy - who are enshrined in both the CFL Hall of Fame and the NFL Hall of Fame. In addition to his one NFL title, he won four Grey Cups with the Blue Bombers during his ten years coaching north of the border. And, by all accounts, he was a great guy. My friend Jack and I often lament that we never made it to one of his famous yard sales before he passed.

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The Cup (Khyentse Norbu, 1999)

And now, not surprisingly, I'm disappearing down a Khyentse Norbu rabbit hole, the Bhutanese director (and much more) whose film, Travellers & Magicians, I watched the other night. Last night I watched his first film, The Cup (1999). It tells the story, apparently based on actual events, of some monks who  come up with a scheme to acquire (temporarily) a TV and satellite dish - and in the process convince the head of their monastery of the brilliance of this plan - so that they could watch the World Cup final match. A very sweet film, and highly recommended.

The Fugitive

 Yesterday I had the tremendous pleasure of meeting my friend Sheila Liming for coffee and Proust down in Montpelier. She's closing in on her completion of Proust's In Search of Lost Time, and we wanted to get together to discuss The Fugitive (the sixth volume) before I disappeared off the earth. I'll definitely miss her, and not simply because she's the one person I met at Champlain who is happy to get together to discuss Proust. If you're looking for some interesting and thought-provoking books to read, definitely check out some of Sheila's.

Here she is nerding out over the fact that we had underlined exactly the same passage (actually, we had done that many times in the text, as might be expected from folks who share a love of literary works in general, and Proust in particular, would).

The passage in question (Marcel reflecting upon the death of Albertine): 

"Since her memory was linked to every season, the only way of forgetting it would have been to forget all of them, even if it meant that I would have to learn to recognize them all over again, like an old man who has suffered from hemiplegia, learning to read again; I would have had to renounced the whole universe. Only a real death of my self, I told myself (were it not impossible), would be capable of consoling me for her death. I did not realize that the death of the self is neither impossible nor extraordinary; it is accomplished without our knowledge and, if necessary, without our consent every day, and I would suffer from the repetition of every sort of day that not only nature but accidental circumstances of more conventional arrangements could introduce into a season."

13th Man

 You have to lose this statue outside the Roughriders stadium, which celebrates the endless passion and devotion of Saskatchewan fans: the 13th man.

During relative slow points in CFL games, I'll often launch into a discussion of all the ways that the CFL is clearly and inarguably better than the NFL (which I'm sure I've discussed previously on this blog, so I won't repeat myself - at least this time). Now I can add a statue celebrating the 13th man, which is clearly better than any US discussion of the importance of the 12th man. 

Roughriders

 While these two guys have obviously seen better days, the Roughriders (Grey Cup Champions last year) are still percolating along quite nicely. Their stadium is quite nice. A couple days earlier, when we were talking to a Blue Bombers fan at the Winnipeg Zoo, and recounting our plans, he proposed that we'd really like Regina and the Roughriders game, although we'd discover that in every single area it would be slightly worse than the similar experience in Winnipeg. I don't know if I'd agree with him, but I appreciated the smack talk from two bitter rivals.

Yes, I bought a Roughriders straw hat, mainly because of the wilting heat and broiling sun. Also, we also clearly supported end endless tsunami of Saskatchewan merchandise being purchased.

Movies in 2026 226

 

The Sheep Detectives (Kyle Balda, 2026)

Not every movie that you see is one that you would have normally chosen to watch, obviously, but that doesn't mean that it was a bad time. Last night Janet wanted to watch The Sheep Detectives, and while I was not that enthusiastic, it was a pretty fun movie. If you're reading this post you already know more about the movie than I do, so I won't repeat the story. I definitely enjoyed it more than Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey (which I'm obviously continuing to dump on - and the characters were more fully realized).

True Fans

 By definition, true fans are fans that travel, that is, they attend both home and road games. As we were waiting for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers game to start we were impressed by the number of Toronto Argonauts fans there were in the stadium, and that takes some effort because the Bombers routinely sell out (essentially, you need to start your planning early - months ago I was looking for tickets on a pre-sale on the first day that tickets were available, and the picking were already sparse). We were sitting there when I turned to Kevin and said, "Dude, we sat behind that guy in Toronto!" It says something about how often you go to games and how much you pay attention when you recognize not only players, but also fans. Anyway, the Argos fans showed out.

While all of this is true, what can you say about folks who have gone to over thirty CFL games, all of them, by definition, road games? 

The Moment

 This was the moment in the third quarter of the Hamilton Tiger-Cats vs. Saskatchewan Roughriders game when the fun finally began to disappear behind the stadium. It was a brutally hot game - in the upper 90s when the game began - and it was at this moment when we realized that we might actually survive. It's almost like the inverse of last June's Calgary game, where it was so cold that we just about froze - in both instances, we came out of the game vowing to go back, because the weather was so daunting that it didn't give us a clear picture of what it's like to see a game there. The fans were enthusiastic, but I think everyone was in survival mode.

Some idiot, it could be anyone, obviously, although in this case it's me, didn't bother to think about which side of the stadium was in the sun - which didn't seem like an issue when I bought the tickets several months ago.

Being Green

 There are certain facts or statistics that all sports fans can recite, almost unbidden, about their favorite teams. For example, all Vikings fans can tell you that although they've never won a Super Bowl (going 0-4), they have actually won a championship. The first four Super Bowls were essentially exhibition games, sort of like a college football bowl game that doesn't have national championship implications. So, the Vikings lost Super Bowl IV, but had already clinched the NFL championship by beating the Cleveland Browns (hence, they were the last NFL champions before the official merger). Similarly, every true Buffalo Bills fan can tell you that the only NFL team to lose to a CFL team is, not surprisingly, the Buffalo Bills (it's complicated, like all relationships, because it was an exhibition game, at least for the Bills, but it fell right in the middle of the CFL season - I wish I knew more about this, because the rules are pretty different, including number of players on a side, so I have no idea how the rules worked for that game). And after that too lengthy preamble, the actual point of the post: every Saskatchewan Roughriders fan can tell you that the majority of all CFL merchandise purchased is Roughriders merchandise; essentially, that there are more Saskatchewan t-shirts and hats and jerseys and onesies, etc. sold than the rest of the CFL combined. I thought that this was just mythology, but it's actually true. If you understand the fanaticism of Buffalo Bills fans, you'll understand Roughriders fans.

Here we are in the Saskatchewan Roughriders store, hours before the game. Check out the long line of green-clad football fanatics buying more green merchandise. It's a beautiful thing. And, yes, I did my part and bought some Roughriders merchandise.

The Last Whammy Bar Trip?

 As I'm wont to opine, there are things I won't miss about Vermont and things that I will definitely miss about Vermont. In the latter category is out wonderfully odd little community here in Calais (although it will be much worse for Janet, as she's been here longer and is much more deeply embedded in the community). This would include weekend nights at the Whammy Bar, the room in the back of the Maple Corners Store that magically transforms itself into a bar on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. It's a Friday night tradition for us, and that will be tough to leave behind.

My friend Marcelle finally made it out to the Whammy Bar on Saturday, and she absolutely loved it. He she is rocking some Winnipeg merch which Kevin brought back from the Blue Bombers Trip of Excellence.

Kevin, a Whammy Bar veteran, holding forth on life and maybe the CFL but definitely on music.

There was an absolutely killer local bluegrass band. There's an open mic night on Thursdays, and bands on Fridays and Saturdays. Even if we're gone, there's no reason why you can't stop by!!

Movies in 2026 225

 

Amateur (Hal Hartley, 1994)

As part of my goal of re-reading beloved books (Proust's In Search of Lost Time) and re-watching films (John Ford's The Searchers, etc.) before the big move so that I'll survive not initially bringing them, I gave another viewing to Hal Hartley's Amateur. It tells the story of Thomas, who has amnesia and is on a journey to regain his memory - with a lovely Hartley-esque scene wherein Thomas sits on a bench next to a kid reading the Odyssey. The kid explains the Odyssey to Thomas, who in turn gives him a nudie magazine. It's a classic Hartley moment, and a key one, as we discover that Thomas, pre-injury (he had been pushed out a window) was a very bad guy (although he never learns the whole truth, or, to paraphrase Hartley himself, the unbelievable truth). There are wonderful performances from Hartley regulars from Martin Donovan (as Thomas), Eline Lowensohn (as Sofia), and Damian Young (as Edward), although the film is stolen by Isabelle Huppert (her appearance in the film says everything that you need to know in regards to how Hartley is beloved by true professionals - although now he usually crowd sources funds for his movie - from me included, happily - because we live in a nation of idiots). She plays Isabelle, an ex-nun who describes herself as a nymphomaniac, although she's a virgin. It features a typically wonderful Hal Hartley ending ("Yes . . . I know this man."). It's not my favorite of his films, but, like all Hal Hartley films, it is essential viewing.

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Travellers and Magicians (Khyentse Norbu, 2003)

What, another Bhutanese movie? The Criterion Channel is featuring a collection of Khyentse Norbu films, and the other night I watched Travellers and Magicians. It tells the story of Dondup, a local official, who is fixated on leaving his tiny village and going to America, and his slow and halting journey to make it out of Bhutan. It is chock full of beautiful pictures of Bhutan, and, not surprisingly, you get the idea that in the end he won't go, although the movie doesn't take that simple Wizard of Oz approach. Dondup is played by Tshewang Dendup, who I believe is the only professional actor in the movie. While watching the film I kept thinking about how much more satisfying this film about an epic journey was than Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey. Norbu himself is a fascinating character, being, in addition to a filmmaker, also a Tibetan Lama and a writer. Highly recommended.

A Bear - Finally

 I really need to get this down for posterity before I completely forget: a couple weeks ago I finally saw a bear.  I was driving up County Road, probably about a mile from out cabin, when I saw a young bear loping across the road (as bears do). This was the first time in my twenty-six years living in Vermont that I had seen a bear. It's not like I've had much better luck with moose, having seen four total, and none in the last twenty years, but bears had remained utterly elusive. Sadly, I have no pictures of the beastie to post, although it would have probably ended up playing itself out like the end of  Werner Herzog's Grizzly Man. 

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Ride in the Whirlwind (Monte Hellman, 1966)

Obviously, not every film that I watch on the Criterion Channel ends up being one that I love, or even like for that matter. Last night I watched Monte Hellman's 1966 Ride in the Whirlwind, which is featured in this month's Harry Dean Stanton collection. I suppose now it's mainly known for co-starring a young Jack Nicholson, who also wrote the screenplay and co-produced it. The film is a western that is sort of about mis-placed justice/vengeance, but it's also pretty muddled. If you're a Jack Nicholson or Harry Dean Stanton - or Millie Perkins or Cameron Mitchell - completist, you might check it out. Otherwise, you would be better off watching William Wellman's 1943 The Ox-Bow Incident (starring Henry Fonda and Dana Andrews), which is a much better exploration of vigilate justice.

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Theory of Achievement (Hal Hartley, 1991)

The other short on the Surviving Desire DVD was Hartley's 1991 Theory of Achievement, which definitely felt like a Hal Hartley movie, with the quick banter, seemingly random conversation loops, and beloved actors who appear throughout his films: Bill Sage, Elina Lowensohn, and Mark Chandler Bailey. It's a reflection on art and wealth and class, all through a very Hartley lens. You should check it out.

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Ambition (Hal Hartley, 1991)

I also took the opportunity to watch a couple early Hal Hartley shorts, which were included on the Surviving Desire DVD. In a previous post I raised the question of why I don't watch more short films, including from directors I already love, and so I'm trying to explore more of them. Ambition, which stars George Feaster, Hannah Sullivan, and Rick Groel) tells the story of a young artist who aims for success but mainly ends up in random (appropriately comical, this is Hartley after all) fights. It's interesting to see Hartley working through themes that he would revisit much more successfully later in his career.

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Surviving Desire (Hal Hartley, 1992)

As I've discussed, one of my challenges is determining what books and movies I bring with me to Sicily, especially on these early days (made more pressing because we're, apparently, going to be stuck in a tiny one bedroom for at least the first six months, but that's an aggravation for another day). Eventually, I'd love to have most of my books and movies, but I don't see that happening for a long time (probably more than I actually have left). Anyway, I definitely want to bring a few of my Hal Hartley DVDs, because he tends to not show up on the Criterion Channel very often, and, more importantly, because his films simply give me a lot of joy. The other night I watched one of my all-time favorites, Hartley's 1992 film Surviving Desire. It was released in the middle of his Long Island Trilogy (The Unbelievable Truth, Trust, Simple Men), and shares many of the same themes - and actors - as those classic films. It also features an impromptu dance number, clearly an homage to Godard's Band of Outsiders, which sets the stage for the Hartley unexpected dance number in Simple Men. Martin Donovan plays a disinterested college professor (Jude) who falls for one of his students (Mary B. Ward as Sofie, clearly a play on the Sophia, the Greek word for wisdom), but, because it's Hartley, it transcends this well worn trope and ends up as a funny and thoughtful rumination on the folly of love and desire. As his friend Henry (Matt Malloy) warns him, "You won't survive her," to which Jude responds, "I don't think I want to." It was great to see Rebecca Nelson, who was so good in Trust, in a memorable role as a woman stopping people on the street to ask them to marry her (she may be the only sane person in the film). Surviving Desire includes one of my favorite opening scenes, where Jude keeps re-reading a paragraph of Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. They spend weeks on it, leading to the students losing their minds throwing things at him, which results in him throwing things back at them (any student who ever had me in class would appreciate that). The last scene, with Sofie, working in a bookstore, quietly asking people obliviously moving around her if she can help them, is brilliant. Absolutely essential viewing.

Joining the Club

 There's the Circle of Excellence - that is, people I've dragged to CFL games, and that is 20 right-thinking individuals - and then there is the Inner Circle of Excellence - that is, people that I've dragged to multiple Canadian cities for CFL games, and that, until this summer, included only three people: Kevin (after this month, eight of nine possible sites), Sanford (two, almost three), and Andy (three). Now, however, the Inner Circle is expanding. Cyndi travelled with us on the first leg of the Manitoba/Saskatchewan Doubleheader of Excellence, and now she can claim two CFL cities (Montreal and Winnipeg). She'll be joined at the end of the month by Erik with two (Montreal and Ottawa).

Cyndi, of course, added her own energy to the trip, expanding Kevin and my usual routine of exploring every diner in the new city. Here she is dragging us to the Winnipeg Zoo, a brilliant idea on a 95 degree day, right before the Blue Bombers game (obviously, not concerned with her aged friend's failing legs). Sadly, she escaped from the dinosaur.

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High Art (Lisa Cholodenko, 1998)

Last night I re-watched a movie I hadn't seen in around twenty-five years, which I guess I could say about a lot of movies since I'm an old man, but this one hit me because I can't believe it was made that long ago. It's Lisa Cholodenko's High Art, which, inexplicably, came out in 1998. It's Cholodenko's first film, and it launched an impressive career. It's sometimes reduced to "that movie that former Brat Packer Ally Sheedy did lesbian scenes," which is a crime because it's quite a good film. It's as much a critique of our relationship with high culture as it is a lesbian love story. Radha Mitchell (as Syd) is quite good as the aspiring editor who gets dragged into the circle of Sheedy (as Lucy Berliner), a damaged but talented photographer. Patricia Clarkson plays Greta, Lucy's girlfriend, is typically great, this time as a drugged out German actress (as I've often opined, nobody has better sense of a good script than Clarkson). The damages of drug use - and of failed aspirations - are huge parts of the story. Highly recommended.

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Niagara (Henry Hathaway, 1953)

Henry Hathaway's Niagara showed up this month on the Criterion Channel, and since I don't have a DVD of it to fret over packing in my suitcase, I decided to take the opportunity and watch it again. I think it's clearly Marilyn Monroe's best movie. I know I'm supposed to say The Seven Year Itch or Some Like It Hot, but she aces the smoldering sexuality bit here brilliantly and provides a great femme fatale in this melodrama/film noir. Joseph Cotten is very good as a damaged war veteran, who gets pushed to murder by his cheating wife. Jean Peters is also pretty good as the bright wife (married to a dolt of a salesman) who is drawn into the adventure. I think the script must have been co-written with the Niagara tourist agency. Recommended.

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The Prisoner (Patrick McGoohan, 1967-68)

Just when I think I can't love the Criterion Channel more than I do, they decide to include the entire series of Patrick McGoohan's groundbreaking The Prisoner. If you haven't seen it, shame on you, and take this opportunity to right the wrong and  address an egregious cultural gap. It's sort of Twin Peaks before Twin Peaks, that is, a TV show so utterly bizarre and different that it changed our understanding of the potential of the medium. Patrick McGoohan plays No. Six, who is sort of like the secret agent he played in his earlier TV series Danger Man, although there's some debate over whether he's supposed to be or not. He tries to quit his job as an agent, but is gassed, kidnapped, and dropped into a village where he can't escape. Whenever he tries to leave a giant floating ball swallows him and brings him back - he great memory from my childhood. Oddly, and sadly, the paranoia of the series seems more relavent every year. Required viewing.

"I will not make any deals with you. I've resigned. I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered. My life is my own!"

"I am not a number! I am a free man!"

Devil

 This last weekend Janet's great friend Erin paid us a visit, and she brought me this utterly epic gift. Janet patiently puts up with our mad discussion of our shared loved of horror movies and cryptozoology. This time Erin brought me a great Jersey Devil t-shirt, which is definitely making its way across the ocean.

Obviously, on one of my trips back to the US in the years to come I need to head down to the Pine Barrens in New Jersey.

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The Odyssey (Christopher Nolan, 2026)

On Monday I was running errands in Burlington anyway, so I decided to catch Christopher Nolan's The Odyssey on the big screen. I'd like to say that I loved it, but, truthfully, I'm not really certain that I even liked it (and this has nothing to do with the $32 I spent for a movie ticket, a coke, and a popcorn - seriously, it's not simply the crappy movies coming to theaters, it's also the insane cost of snacks, that are keeping people away from seeing movies in the theater). I know everyone was madly/illogically complaining about the casting - and I had some issues with it (I counted at least eight actors who had appeared in the MCU or the DCU) - but I didn't have the usual idiotic complaints about Lupita Nyong'o or Elliot Page, both of whom were fine. I mean, Lupita Nyong'o is a very fine actress, and she's stunningly beautiful, so she's a great choice to play Helen. My problem is the dumb stuff that these characters, and, for that matter, all of the characters, had to say. I don't think there was even one line from Homer's Odyssey that appeared in Nolan's Odyssey. Granted, film is a visual medium, but would it have killed Nolan to have included some of the best lines from Homer (even considering that the Odyssey pales in comparison to the Iliad in regards to great passages)? There are so many great scenes that were just ignored (Odysseus meeting his mother, Achilles, and Ajax in the underworld) in favor of dumb scenes such as Odysseus explaining to Penelope that Agamemnon was starting the war to dominate trade in the Aegean. The attempts to deal with the patriarchal nature of a work created  twenty-five centuries ago were just clumsy, like implying that Odysseus didn't really cheat on Penelope, because he didn't sleep with Circe (a wasted Samantha Morton) and even if he slept with Calypso he didn't really sleep with her because she had him drugged to deal with his obvious PTSD. In the epic Odysseus wants to go home, but he doesn't feel any great existential remorse for his role in the Trojan War.  The attempt to foreground the female characters was noble, but it was also clumsily done, leaving them utterly one dimensional (and I would argue that they aren't in Homer's work). Essentially, it felt like an Odyssey made by a person unfamiliar with the Odyssey for an audience that would never read the Odyssey, which I guess is a good fit for this Trumpian post-literate age. Give it a pass. Instead, go back and watch Memento, the one truly great film that Christopher Nolan ever made.

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Halloween III: Season of the Witch (Tommy Lee Wallace, 1982)

The Halloween theme continues to play itself out, although I suspect this will be the last one.  Janet's friend Erin and I got into a big discussion of Halloween III: Season of the Witch (apparently, Erin and I grew up together, we just didn't know it - or at least we watched all the same horror movies), which led us to watch the movie. The movie was not as bad as I remembered, and apparently it was the an attempt, unsuccessful, to start a rotating series of Halloween movies that were not simply about the Michael Myers characters. I'm amazing that Dan O'Herlihy was in both this film and also in John Huston's The Dead, although people have to pay the bills. Every time I watch this I think about the fact that it was Stacey Nelkin's relationship (when she was 17) with Woody Allen (when he was 42) that inspired his Manhattan, and then I feel that I should remember her for some other reason and it makes me feel bad. Halloween III, after some initial audience resistance, has picked up a bit of a cult following over the years. Give it a watch. 

"101 days left till Halloween, Halloween, Halloween. 101 days left till Halloween, Silver Shamrock!"

Ali at Hugo's

 The other night I went down to watch my beloved daughter-in-law Ali McGuirk perform at Hugo's in downtown Montpelier. She has a monthly gig there, among her other performances in the area, which is a lovely opportunity to watch her perform. As usual, she was wonderful, and she's back by a very tight band.

Usually she has a three piece band, but this time she was backed by four dudes.

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Halloween II (Rick Rosenthal, 1981)

Janet's wonderful friend Erin paid us a visit, and, after the exchange of cryptozoological t-shirts (apparently she and I grew up together watching horror movies), and after a discussion of John Carpenter's original Halloween, we ended up watching Rick Rosenthal's dreadful Halloween II. This is the film that was taken away from John Carpenter (even though he had directed Halloween, arguably the most successful independent movie of all time) because they wanted more gore; the world had changed in between Halloween and Halloween II, but Carpenter remained true to his never compromise approach, and so the studio yanked the film from him. The result is just dreck, although, it you're going to be a Halloween completist (you have to do something to fill up the lonely hours living in your mom's basement, I guess you could watch it). 

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The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearn (Jack Clayton, 1987)

The other night we decided to watch The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, which Janet had just finished reading the novel but had never seen the film. And then we discovered that it wasn't available for streaming, which says something very bad about our idiot nation. Seriously, what's wrong with us.  I know we're now living in the post-literate age, and we're being led to ruin by the never-literate president, but can't we at least pretend to be an intelligent nation? So, instead, we tracked down another Maggie Smith film, The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearn, which was also quite good. Very dark, and I especially liked the ending. Recommended.

Paris of the Prairie

 One of the great moments on our recent Manitoba/Saskatchewan CFL Trip of Excellence, was stopping by Montmartre, Saskatchewan. I'm famous/infamous for, in the days leading up to a trip, doing research on "odd things to do in _______", which led us to the Eifel Tower replica in the small, dusty town of Montmartre.  When we turned of the Trans-Canada Highway and Kevin's GPS told him that we would go straight for ten miles on a dirt road before turning onto another dirt road, he said, somewhat seriously, "are you sure you want to do this?" I replied, "Are you asking me?" As all of my travelling companions know, my answer is always a definitive yes. Years and years ago, when I was travelling with my friend Michelle for Champlain, we'd always joke that I should wear a WWMD (What Would Michelle Do?) bracelet and she should wear a WWGD (What Would Gary Do?) bracelet for guidance on ours trips. The joke being that they were both useless, since Michelle would naturally do nothing and would definitely sign off on anything. Anyway, we travelled on and found the Eifel Tower, which was a wonderful side trip. I wish that more had been open in town, because I would have loved to explore a bit and show Montmartre some love, both emotional and financial. I'll stop by again on my next trip to Saskatchewan.

Here's a view of the Eifel Tower, with Kevin and the sleepy town of Montmartre in the background.

And here's the backstory. The short version of the story is that over a century ago a group of folks from the suburbs of Paris decided to try and their lot in the new world (one wonders what was happening in the suburbs of Paris in the 1890s that made the unknown plains of Saskatchewan seem like a much better option). A century later, the town still had a clear sense of their French roots, and decided to raise the money to put up a replica of the Eifel Tower. They are/were very coureagous and plucky folks.