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.

Movies in 2026 192

 

Le Silence de la Mer (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1946)

As I said in a previous post, it looks like my Jean-Pierre Melville film series is beginning. Last night I watched his first film, 1946's Le Silence de la Mer. It's one of those films that would, sadly, never be made in the US. It tells the story of a German officer, who claims to be a true Francophile, moves in with an elderly Frenchman and his niece in the early days of the war. They respond by never talking to him, or even making eye contact. Howard Vernon, as Werner von Ebrennac, has to do the heavy lifting, and almost the entire film is him carrying on an almost stream of conscious dialogue every evening to two people who won't respond. The uncle (Jean-Marie Robain) provides some voiceover, and the younger niece (Nicole Stephane), who is clearly being drawn to the German officer, says one word to the officer at the end which is devastating. Highly recommended, and expected to see more Melville films popping up here soon.

As Vivid a Memory

 "I say each thing that we see again, because books in this respect behave as things; the way a book opened along the spine, the texture of the paper, may have retained within it as vivid a memory of the way I imagined Venice then, as of my wish to go there, as the book's actual sentences."

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

And this is why we're having so much trouble culling out the books, it's not simply the books, but also the actual feel of the books themselves. Yes, with my new Kindle I can download many of the books I'm interested in reading/rereading, but it never is the same thing. Plus, as Proust is pointing out here, it's not simply the sentences, but the tangibility and feel of the book. Every time I reread The Chess Garden I find myself holding it to my chest and fighting back (or happily giving way to) tears. In that same vein, it's not simply the memory itself, but everything that provides a tangible connection to the memory. Every time I see The Chess Garden, complete - well, incomplete, actually - with the separated title page, I'm brought back to the joy that the book gives me without even turning the pages.

Movies in 2026 191

 

The Best Years of Our Lives (William Wyler, 1946)

Here's a film that I own on DVD, and which never seems to show up on the Criterion Channel, and which I don't watch nearly enough: William Wyler's 1946 Oscar winner and undeniable classic, The Best Years of Our Lives. As with It's a Wonderful Life, although a very different film, every time I re-watch The Best Years of Our Lives I find new places to cry. I don't know if I made it ten minutes in this time before I was weepy, and that was before I balled later on. Shameful. It stars Fredric March, Dana Andrews and Harold Russell as soldiers returning to their small town after the war, and the struggles that they face returning to civilian life. Russell was a true double-amputee, and he ended up winning two Academy Awards for his performance, a Special Award because they didn't think he would actually win in the category of Best Supporting Actor, and also Best Supporting Actor (when he did win). It's the only time in Oscar history when an actor won twice for the same performance. Myrna Loy, Teresa Wright, and Cathy O'Donnell are the women in their lives, adjusting to their pretty fucked up husband/boyfriends, but that statement doesn't do justice to the depth they all bring in their performances. Virginia Mayo gives a wonderful trampy performance as Andrews's wife. The film unflinchingly explored the lives of the returning soldiers, and, I would argue, helped keep America from forgetting them in the afterglow of victory. There are also a couple great scenes showing the growth of early isolationists and naysayers, which might serve as a primer on how movements like MAGA start. I taught a classic on World War II and Film a couple times, and I remember show it to my students. Required viewing.