Movies in 2026 197

 

Trade Winds (Tay Garnett, 1938)

While I watch many movies several times over - and consider it a blessing that I get to do so - I certainly don't rewatch the vast majority of films that I've seen over the years.  Some I watched, and was quite happy to watch them, but I also know that I'll never see them again. So, for every Grand Illusion there's a Trade Winds (Tay Garnett, 1938). It's sort of a slapstick, although in other ways it's a whodunit (although that's introduced awfully late) and almost a travelogue. Frederic March (who is one of the most unfairly forgotten actors, especially for the common watcher of movies) and Joan Bennett are typically good, and it has some witty banter (Dorothy Parker worked on the script). So, I don't think I'd recommend it per se, but if you stumble across it don't turn off the TV, you'll have an enjoyable hour and a half.

Movies of 2026 196

 

Lumiere, Le Cinema! (Thierry Fremaux, 2025)

As I've proposed many times, the Criterion Channel introduces me to so many films and directors and actors that I'd never see elsewhere. This also relates to documentaries, and last night I watched a wonderful one: Thierry Fremaux's 2025 Lumiere, Le Cinema! It tells the story of the Lumieres, especially Louis, and the origins of cinema. It must show all of some of a hundred of the Lumiere 50 second films (usually of events in real life, although some more staged). The narrator was classically French, so there's a lovely running commentary on aesthetics and references so many artists and thinkers (Proust, naturally, the Renoirs, both Auguste and Jean; Fellini; Rossellini, etc.). It's amazing how beautifully preserved the films were, especially since some of them are 130 years old. Essential for film nuts.

A Sort of Psychology in Space

 "And no doubt all these different planes, in relation to which Time, as I had grasped in the course of this party, arranged my life, by giving me the idea that in a book whose intention was to tell the story of a life it would be necessary to use, in contrast to the flat psychology people normally use, a sort of psychology in space, added a new beauty to the resurrections that had taken place in my memory while I was lost in my thoughts alone in the library, since memory, by bringing the past into the present without making changes to it. just as it was at the moment when it was the present, suppresses precisely this great dimension of Time though which a life is given reality."

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time (Finding Time Again)

OK, as my friend MK often opines, shit is getting real. Although I've read Proust several times, although the first time in this particular translation, I have to be honest in admitting that there are still times when he mystifies me - or at least it's better to say that I'm slowing, with each rereading and reflection, that I'm slowing honing in on his meaning. I guess when I think about it I come back to the notion that for Proust time and space are not separate, discrete entities, but rather influence each other, it not actually merge. 
Granted, everything is relative, but with Proust things are really relative. It's not completely Buddhist (with it being pointless to talk about the self since everything changes second to second), but rather that there is no fixed self, and that it evolves throughout time, and hence our understanding of reality and our place in it and thus meaning transforms over time. It's impossible to understand the self, and thus write a novel about the self, without taking into account this evolving/devolving psychological reality. OK, that's what I'm thinking today, ask me again tomorrow and I'll have a different answer.

This morning I finished my latest rereading of Proust, and I'm definitely looking forward to my next one. This may best be shown that as soon as I finished (my actual, beautiful, physical Penguin volumes) that I purchased Kindle copies of each of them, so that I'm not left without them. I mean, what would happen if the box of books I mail to Italy falls of the boat?

Movies in 2026 195

 

Stromboli (Roberto Rossellini, 1950)

Roberto Rossellini's Stromboli had been sitting in my Criterion Channel queue for way too long, and last night I finally got around to watching it. For some reason I often have an initial negative reaction to Rossellini films, although I don't know why. I remember starting his Rome, Open City (1945) and stopping, before starting up again weeks later, and absolutely loving it. It's like I didn't think it would be interesting after fifteen minutes or so, and then paused it - not deciding not to watch it - but rather thinking of something else I had to do that seemed more pressing/interesting at that moment. Inexplicably, I think I did exactly the same thing with Stromboli. This is by way of pointing out that I truly am a moron. I also liked Stromboli quite a bit. It tells the story of Karin (Ingrid Bergman), who is a Lithuanian who somehow ends up in an internment camp in the chaos of the end of the war, and who ends up marrying Antonio (Mario Vitale) to start to new life on the island of Stromboli. Antonio is not a bad guy, necessarily, but this is clearly not the life that she wanted. It's weird to think that in Trapani we'll be able to catch a ferry to Stromboli, which is doubtless how I'll end up dying in a volcanic eruption (my friends will only smile, sadly, and say, "You know, it's OK, I think he would have wanted it that way."). The initial response in the American press to the film was horrifically terrible, which was a stupid, puritanical American response to Bergman's affair with Rosselini. Now there are folks who consider it one of the great films ever made. I'm going to come down in the middle on that one. I liked it quite a bit, and would definitely recommend it, but I just don't think I would agree that it's one of the greatest couple hundred films ever made. Still, it's very good, and check it out.

The Beauty of Ideas

 "The beauty of images lies behind things, the beauty of ideas in front of them. So that the former cease to impress us when we reach them, whereas we have to go beyond the latter in order to understand them."

Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time (Finding Time Again)

Proust has popped up several times recently, which makes sense since I'm just about finished with my initial reading of the In Search of Lost Time translation (as we know, I've read the older translation several times). Truthfully, I've tried to avoid bringing in much Proust this time because a few years ago I devoted over two years straight to commenting on a daily reading of the entire work. However, now that I'm drawing to a close, it's difficult to avoid it. One of the reasons why I decided to embark on a rereading right now, beyond my desire to reread it all every three years or so, is sort of like my running discussion about watching my DVD movies now as compared to streaming another film on the Criterion Channel: I only have so much space in my suitcase, and I need to be mindful of what I'm bringing early on. Essentially, I can't justify taking up half of my suitcase with all seven volumes of the most recent translation, so I decided to time my read now. I had this feeling that I'd settle in Italy and then feel an overpowering urge for a Proustian dive (although I do have the entire original translation on my Kindle, and also on Audible for that matter). 

And speaking of retirement and moves, I suppose I should say something about the passage above. As we've discussed, after a lot (literally, years) of trepidation, I think I've come to peace with the idea of retirement. In some ways, I think it relates to Proust's observation above. I'm entering into a period of learning new things, grappling with new concepts and ideas and languages, and not simply watching my physical world whither away. 

Movies in 2026 194

 

Ned Rifle (Hal Hartley, 2014)

And this morning I finished the Henry Fool trilogy, with a re-viewing of his 2014 Ned Rifle. This is actually my favorite of the Henry Fool trilogy, mainly because it feels most like a Hal Hartley film. Ned (Grim) Rifle (which is actually one of Hartley's pseudonyms that you will spot in the credits to his movies) and Susan (a scene-stealing Aubrey Plaza) link up to track down Henry Fool and kill him, although her motives are much darker. James Urbaniak (Simon Grim), Parker Posey (Fay Grim), Thomas Jay Ryan (Henry Fool), and Liam Aiken (Ned Rifle) all return - and there are delightful cameos from Hartley regulars Martin Donovan, Karen Sillas, Robert John Burke, and Bill Sage. Definitely recommended, although then you'd also have to watch Henry Fool and Fay Grim, but, seriously, it's Hal Hartley, and you should watch all of his films, FFS, don't be a jerk. Oh, and look out for the next Hal Hartley Kickstarter campaign, and you can join me in supporting a truly original filmmaker.

Movies in 2026 193

 

Fay Grim (Hal Hartley, 2006)

Last night I watched the middle film in Hal Hartley's Henry Fool trilogy, Fay Grim. As one would expect from the title, this film focuses on Fay Grim, the sister to the famous/infamous poet Simon Grim and the wife of debauched Henry Fool. As it turns out, Henry's Confession, which was considered an absolute disaster in the first film, is not mere madness, but the actual story of his time as a globetrotting operative. Parker Poser as Fay is quite good, and Jeff Goldblum plays Agent Fulbright. Thomas Jay Ryan (Henry Fool), James Urbaniak (Simon Grim - I also discovered that he voiced Dr. Venture in the Venture Brothers, it is a small world), and Liam Aiken (Ned Grim/Rifle) return once more. Hartley regular Elina Lowensohn appears as Bebe. Again, I'm not a huge fan of the Henry Fool trilogy, and this one has too much jet-setting, but there are also some very inspired moments. I think it's one of his weakest efforts, but it's still Hal Hartley, and the world is a better place when Hartley is out making films (and I will doubtless financially support his next film as I have the last few). So, as with Henry Fool, take a look at Fay Grim, but start with one of his other films first, and then check out the trilogy.