After director Jonathan Demme died last year, I heard someone praising Stop Making Sense. A 1984 concert film featuring the Talking Heads, it’s widely considered to be one of the best films of its kind. I was aware of the movie, but until last year, I didn’t realize what a big deal it was. Now that I’ve finally seen it, I understand why the critics love it.
Stop Making Sense isn’t just a film of a Talking Heads concert (actually, the footage was not all shot on the same night). It’s a visual treat. And as someone whose experience with Talking Heads had been limited to their music and one or two videos, it gave me a better feel for the band.
The concert begins when David Byrne walks on stage with a boombox and announces he wants to play a tape. Alone and supposedly accompanied by the tape (apparently the sound was really from a drum machine), Byrne performs “Psycho Killer.” My first thought when I saw him bobbing his head along to the music was, “Wow. He’s a bit geeky, but he can get away with it.” (I say this as a geeky person myself.) As I kept watching, I realized that Byrne is a true performer. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
Byrne is joined on stage by bandmate Tina Weymouth for the next song, and then by her husband Chris Frantz. With each song, more band members join the group, until the first part of the concert comes to a climax with “Burning Down the House.” At this point, there are nine musicians on stage — the four members of Talking Heads, two backup singers, and three more touring musicians.
Byrne brings boundless energy and wackiness to the performance. He runs laps around the stage. He dances with a floor lamp. And, of course, toward the end of the performance, he comes onstage in an enormous suit. As I watched him, I wondered if he had taken clowning lessons. He moved in a way that seemed natural, but I’ll bet he had to rehearse a lot to get there.
While Bryne was at the center of the action, the other band members also impressed me. Jerry Harrison switched off between guitar and keyboard. While I know there are plenty of musicians who know more than one instrument, I feel like I don’t see that sort of thing often in a performance. Weymouth had a chance to shine after Byrne stepped off stage for a costume change, leaving Weymouth, Frantz, and the other musicians to perform “Genius of Love” as the Tom Tom Club. Tom Tom Club is a band that Weymouth and Frantz had formed outside of Talking Heads; the couple were the only actual members of Tom Tom Club on stage. “Genius of Love” is very different in style from Talking Heads’ songs, but I enjoyed the energetic performance.
Although this is a concert film, there are few shots of the audience. Stop Making Sense is a performance for you, the viewer. When we finally get glimpses of the audience at the end, you realize that Talking Heads fans are as eccentric as Byrne. Come one, come all, and bring your unicorn — even if Pauline Kael disapproves. You and your weirdness are welcome.
I’m not going so far as to say that everyone will love Stop Making Sense. If you never listen to popular music or only listen to popular music of the past decade, you may not care for it. But if you have broad musical taste or an affinity for the ’80s, I urge you to check it out. It’s everything the critics say it is.
I’ve always told myself I wouldn’t use my “something wonderful” posts to review things that were already quite popular, so I initially thought I’d never write about Studio Ghibli. It seems like everyone I know is familiar with at least some of co-founder Hayao Miyazaki’s work. But a short conversation with someone outside of my circle of friends made it clear to me that many people haven’t even heard of Spirited Away or My Neighbor Totoro, much less watched them. So I decided to cover Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki after all.
If you are among those who have no idea what I’m talking about, here’s a brief introduction to Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.
What is Studio Ghibli? And, who is Hayao Miyazaki?
Studio Ghibli is a Japanese animation studio, co-founded in 1985 by Miyazaki and Isao Takahata. Takahata created excellent animated features during his lifetime, but Miyazaki has a magic touch; he wrote and directed the studio’s best-known films outside of Japan. If you have watched only a few Studio Ghibli films, I’m willing to bet that they were all Miyazaki’s work.
Miyazaki is a master storyteller, and his movies are always beautifully animated. Although each of his films is distinct from the others, certain themes pop up frequently in his work:
Flight. Miyazaki has the heart of an aviator. Castle in the Sky involves airships and a floating city. A witch’s ability to fly is at the heart of Kiki’s Delivery Service. Porco Rosso is about an aviator, and The Wind Rises is about an aeronautical engineer.
Magic. Miyazaki is one of those people who, to steal a phrase from a friend, “Went to fairyland and never came back.” His films frequently feature wizards, witches, or mythical beings. Miyazaki’s world is infused with magic.
The environment. Many of Miyazaki’s films touch on the importance of preserving nature. Princess Mononoke and Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind both feature a conflict between humans and nature. Ponyo’s father, the sorcerer Fujimoto, is deeply concerned about what humans are doing to the world, particularly to the oceans. And when Ponyo decides to become a human, she throws the balance of nature out of whack.
War. Miyazaki is hardly the only Japanese film-maker and animator to touch on war. You can find the scars of Hiroshima and Nagasaki everywhere from Godzilla movies to Star Blazers. War is present in many of Miyazaki’s films, and it’s never glorified.
Absentee parents. Many people have noticed how many Disney characters are motherless children. Similarly, one or both parents are often missing in Miyazaki’s films, though they aren’t necessarily dead. In My Neighbor Totoro, Satsuki and Mei’s mother is in the hospital. In Ponyo, Sosuke’s father is a captain on a fishing boat, so busy with his work that he’s never home. Pazu and Sheeta, the main characters in Castle in the Sky, are both orphans. And I’m just getting started.
Strong female characters. If you want great female role models for your children, Miyazaki’s movies are the way to go. Girls are often central characters in his stories. They are brave and powerful. San and Lady Eboshi, two female characters in Princess Mononoke, are strong opposing forces in the struggle between humans and nature. Chihiro of Spirited Away is on a mission to save her parents… and in the process, she rescues other beings in the spirit world. Ponyo is unstoppable in her quest to become a human.
Joe Hisaishi’s music adds to the magic.
Miyazaki’s masterful storytelling isn’t all that makes so many Studio Ghibli features masterpieces. Many of his best films have gorgeous scores composed by Joe Hisaishi. Search for “Ghibli Music” on YouTube and you’ll find several long compilations of music from the movies; most of the songs on these compilations will be Hisaishi’s. You can listen to jazz versions, piano versions, harp versions, music box versions. And like John Williams, Hisaishi composes concert-worthy film scores.
Disney has played a key role in bringing these films to the U.S.
Before Disney got involved, Miyazaki’s work was already making it over to the U.S. in subtitled or dubbed versions. But Disney knows a good thing when they see it, and in the mid-’90s they began distributing Studio Ghibli films outside of Japan. They arranged for high-quality English dubs and re-dubs, bringing in renowned actors to do the voice work. While I generally prefer to watch anime with subtitles, I enjoy most of Disney’s English dubs.
What follows is by no means an exhaustive list of the works of Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. I couldn’t get my hands on one Studio Ghibli film — Ocean Waves — and Miyazaki has had a very prolific career. Several of his short films can be viewed only at the Studio Ghibli museum in Japan. That said, I included as many films as I could, and even a couple of television series — one that Miyazaki directed for a while, and another that was co-produced by Studio Ghibli. Unless you are a big Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli fan already, I hope that this list will either introduce you to these films for the first time or at least introduce you to some work that you didn’t already know.
I’ve arranged this list from “must-sees” — the movies that I strongly urge you to watch, even if you never watch another Miyazaki or Studio Ghibli film beyond those — to a few that I encourage you to skip, unless you are a die-hard fan who feels the urge to watch everything. Although most of the trailers I found don’t capture the movies the way I wish they did, I’ve included trailers whenever possible to give you a taste of each film or series.
Must-Sees
Castle in the Sky (1986) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
When I think of my favorite Studio Ghibli films, this is the first one that comes to mind. A fantasy with a touch of steampunk, Castle in the Sky jumps into action right from the start as an airship is attacked by sky pirates. Miyazaki delivers lots of adventure studded with moments of quiet beauty, such as a visit to a garden on a legendary floating island. This is a great starting point for people who are new to Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki.
My Neighbor Totoro (1988) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
My Neighbor Totoro is the classic Studio Ghibli film. Totoro is incorporated in the studio’s logo, and you can find all sorts of stuffed toys and other gifts featuring the character. This sweet film is one of two ideal Studio Ghibli starting points for young children (the other is Ponyo). The action and adventure in this movie are on a smaller, more personal scale than Castle in the Sky, well-suited to a younger audience. I don’t know anyone who isn’t completely taken with the magical creatures in the story — not only Totoro (particularly the big Totoro) but also “soot sprites” and a Catbus.
Spirited Away (2001) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
When Spirited Away won Best Animated Feature in the 75th Academy Awards, that may have been the tipping point that moved Miyazaki from a cult favorite to a famous name in the United States. This story is a fairy tale in which the hero, a girl named Chihiro, must rescue her parents from a curse and escape from the spirit world. As in many fairy tales, Chihiro befriends magical beings who help her on her quest. While the formula is classic, the story and characters are like nothing you’ve seen before. Except for the soot sprites…
Princess Mononoke (1997) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
This powerful film is not for young children. A fairy tale with strong environmentalist themes, Princess Monoke is about a war between humans and the beings of the surrounding forest. The characters are complex; neither side in this war is wholly good or wholly evil. The movie is very violent and very moving.
Ponyo (2008) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
This is the other film that I consider a great Studio Ghibli starting point for young children. Ponyo, the fish-child of a sorcerer and a sea goddess, escapes from home and befriends a human child. Once she has had a literal taste of the human world, she will let nothing stop her from rejoining her friend as a human herself — thus upsetting the balance of nature. The story is clearly inspired by “The Little Mermaid,” and it’s the best take on that fairy tale that I’ve ever seen (albeit very different from the original).
Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
Howl’s Moving Castle is based on the book by Diana Wynne Jones, though it has been simplified for the screen. While I can be a purist about these things, I think the simplification was necessary. Most of the Miyazaki movies I love best are original stories or, in the case of Ponyo, complete reinterpretations, but this is one of the happy exceptions to that rule. It’s also one of the few Miyazaki films with a full-fledged romance.
The Cat Returns (2002) — Written by Reiko Yoshida and directed by Hiroyuki Morita
The Cat Returns is the only non-Miyazaki anime from Studio Ghibli that I consider a must-see. Although the animation isn’t as beautiful as the other movies in this group, I enjoy the story and characters. Haru is an awkward teenager who rescues a cat. Unfortunately, he turns out to be cat royalty, and his father sees fit to reward Haru by arranging for her marriage to his son. With the help of Muta (a cat), the Baron (a cat figurine that comes to life), and Toto (a raven), Haru tries to escape an unwanted marriage and gains confidence in the process. This movie is actually the sequel to Whisper of the Heart (below), but it stands on its own. The score, by Yuji Nomi, is lovely.
Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind (1984) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind was created before the founding of Studio Ghibli. The story is an environmental fable about a post-apocalyptic world in which humans fight for survival among poisonous forests filled with angry insects. It’s pretty heavy, so I don’t recommend it for small children. Despite the serious subject matter, I strongly suggest you don’t miss Miyazaki’s breakthrough film.
Highly Recommended
Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
My child was offended that I listed this film as “highly recommended” instead of “must-see,” but this is, after all, just my opinion. Kiki’s Delivery Service is a lovely story about a young witch who moves away from home and establishes (surprise!) a delivery service. The movie is cute, your kids (if you have any) will love it, and you will enjoy watching it with them; however, I don’t think it measures up to the very best of Miyazaki’s movies — perhaps because it was based on an existing book rather than coming straight from his imagination.
Porco Rosso (1992) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
Once upon a time, an aviator named Marco was turned into a pig… or rather, a sort of pig-man. Porco Rosso takes place after that transformation. It’s a sweet story, but it is probably more to adult tastes than many of Miyazaki’s movies.
The Wind Rises (2013) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
The Wind Rises is Miyazaki’s last film to date. A loving tribute to a Japanese aircraft designer, this movie is both sad and beautiful. Before you watch it with your children, keep in mind that there is some disturbing content, including an earthquake and a character who suffers from tuberculosis.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QFBZgAZx7g
The Secret World of Arrietty (2010) — Written by Hayao Miyazaki and Keiko Niwa and directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi
Based on The Borrowers, The Secret World of Arrietty is an engaging film that retains the spirit of the book, but — like Kiki’s Delivery Service — it doesn’t have that spark that makes it a must-see. It also lacks the depth of most of Miyazaki’s films, so while most adults won’t mind watching it, the movie probably has greater appeal for children.
My Neighbors the Yamadas (1999) — Written and directed by Isao Takahata
This sweet, funny anime is a series of shorts about family. The animation style is very different from most Studio Ghibli films, but it is beautiful in its own way. Overall, I thought the movie was a delightful exploration of the ups and downs of family life.
From Up on Poppy Hill (2011) — Written by Hayao Miyazaki and Keiko Niwa and directed by Gorō Miyazaki
You’re going to see the name “Gorō Miyazaki” pop up occasionally on this list; one of Hayao Miyazaki’s sons, he has begun directing some anime with mixed success. From Up on Poppy Hill is probably one of his best-loved anime, a coming-of-age film set in 1960s Japan. Much of the focus of the film is on a convoluted romance between the two main characters, so it will probably appeal more to older children and adults.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-rhgSCAqDU
Whisper of the Heart (1995) — Written by Hayao Miyazaki and directed by Yoshifumi Kondō
The Baron from The Cat Returns was first introduced in this movie, though his role here is very different. The Baron never truly comes to life, except in the imagination of Shizuku, a young writer. This coming-of-age film gets a bit angst-y at times and has a somewhat awkward romance, but it’s worth seeing, despite those bumpy patches.
Only Yesterday (1991) — Written and directed by Isao Takahata
This slice-of-life movie alternates between the story of 27-year-old Taeko, a woman on vacation in the country, and flashbacks to her childhood. At times, it felt like it dragged on, but sometimes the most mundane scenes — such as one in which the adult Taeko assists with a harvest — are absolutely beautiful. The story continues into the end credits, so don’t stop watching when the credits roll.
The Tale of Princess Kaguya (2013) — Written by Isao Takahata and Riko Sakaguchi and directed by Isao Takahata
The Tale of Princess Kaguya is one of the most beautifully animated movies I’ve ever seen. Based on a Japanese folktale, the film tells a heart-breaking story about a miraculous child who is forced into a role she doesn’t want. Its runtime is more than two hours, but it never bogs down.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tM6hcHp0_kU
The Castle of Cagliostro (1979) — Written by Hayao Miyazaki and Haruya Yamazaki and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
This is another of Miyazaki’s pre-Studio Ghibli movies, part of an enormous body of work about Lupin III, a master thief. Miyazaki had already done work on part one of the Lupin III television series when he was hired to direct The Castle of Cagliostro, the second theatrically released movie. This isn’t really like Miyazaki’s later work — after all, he was working with a pre-existing character — but it’s fun and action-packed.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJudurbkv1E
Not Bad, But…
Ronja, the Robber’s Daughter (2014-15) — Written by Hiroyuki Kawasaki and directed by Gorō Miyazaki
This series almost doesn’t count as a Studio Ghibli film; it was co-produced by Studio Ghibli, but the animation was done by Polygon Pictures. The series is an extremely faithful adaptation of Astrid Lindgren’s Ronia, the Robber’s Daughter — in fact, while I’m normally a fan of faithful adaptations, I feel like they could have made some cuts and hurried the story along a little. The animation bugged me and my child a bit in the beginning, but we got used to it. Overall, it’s a high-quality series — the kind that might run on PBS. Right now it is streaming on Amazon Prime; according to Wikipedia, it will eventually be released by GKIDS.
Grave of the Fireflies (1988) — Written and directed by Isao Takahata
Grave of the Fireflies is an anime classic, so I feel a little guilty about putting it on this part of the list, but it is extremely depressing. I do willingly watch and appreciate sad movies, but in my opinion, the merits of this one don’t outweigh how hard it is to watch. The movie definitely does a great job illustrating the horrors of war.
When Marnie Was There (2014) — Written and directed by Hiromasa Yonebayashi
When Marnie Was There is based on a book by the same name. At the time of this writing, its Wikipedia entry notes that the critical consensus on Rotten Tomatoes is that it is “still blessed with enough visual and narrative beauty to recommend, even if it isn’t quite as magical as Studio Ghibli’s greatest works.” Perhaps that lack of magic is why I couldn’t bring myself to put this on my “highly recommended” list. Yes, it is beautiful, but now that I’ve seen it once, I don’t need to see it again.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZq4uuMP8ss
Sherlock Hound (1984-85) — Various writers and directors, including Hayao Miyazaki
Miyazaki directed the first six episodes of this Sherlock Holmes-inspired series. It is a not-unpleasant cartoon for young children, but after five episodes, I thought, “Okay, that’s enough.” (This was before I realized that Miyazaki had not directed all 26 episodes in the series. I might have powered through one more, but by the time I learned that I had only one Miyazaki episode left, I didn’t feel that going back to watch that episode would change my opinion of the series.) I wouldn’t go as far as to say, “Don’t bother,” but I also don’t think you need to make an effort to see these.
Only for Die-hard Fans
Tales from Earthsea (2006) — Written by Gorō Miyazaki and Keiko Niwa and directed by Gorō Miyazaki
Tales from Earthsea is very loosely based on some of the Earthsea novels, particularly The Farthest Shore and Tehanu. (Apparently Ursula LeGuin said, “It is not my book. It is your movie.”) This is one of the least popular Studio Ghibli movies ever produced, although apparently it did well in the box office in Japan. Even if the movie stood on its own and didn’t pretend to be based on LeGuin’s novels, it’s surprisingly dull for its genre. Or maybe I was just sleepy when I watched it.
Pom Poko (1994) — Written and directed by Isao Takahata
Maybe I don’t like Pom Poko because it doesn’t speak to me culturally. The movie is an environmental tale about a group of tanuki, Japanese raccoon dogs, that declare war on the developers who are destroying their forest. Certain elements of Japanese folklore about tanuki show up in this movie — including the notion that they have shape-shifting powers, as well as an emphasis on the size of their testicles. While there’s a lot of humor, Pom Poko is also very sad. There are scenes that are littered with dead tanuki. And while the movie is “only” 119 minutes long, it seems to drag on and on.
Panda! Go, Panda! (1972) — Written by Hayao Miyazaki and directed by Isao Takahata
I used to check Panda! Go, Panda! out from the library for my child to watch (without actually watching it myself — shame on me). She enjoyed it, so when I started working on this post and found I could no longer get the movie from the library, I bought it, thinking it would be a worthwhile addition to our collection of Miyazaki and Ghibli-related films. That was a mistake. The dubbing is extremely annoying — particularly the voice for Papa Panda. My child has seen a version with subtitles and claims that’s much better, but you are far more likely to run across the dubbed version that I bought. The DVD technically has two Panda! Go, Panda! movies on it — the original and Panda! Go, Panda!: The Rainy Day Circus. I made it through the first movie and couldn’t bring myself to continue.
In addition to being annoyed by the dub, I kept thinking about how the story wouldn’t fly today. A young grade-schooler, Mimiko, is left alone at home for several days when her grandmother, who is her caretaker, goes to an out-of-town funeral. While Grandma is gone, Mimiko lets a baby panda, Panny, and its father into her house and decides they should be a family. She is Panny’s mother, and Papa Panda plays the role of father to both of them. Nothing creepy about this story at all.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5mtKB92WQEI
Bonus Video
On Your Mark (1995) — Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki
“On Your Mark” is a music video to a song by Chage & Aska. The video tells a sci-fi story about two policemen who rescue an angelic being; the story jumps back and forth in time, offering alternate endings. If you have the opportunity to view this short work, I highly recommend it.
Want to make your geeky friends happy? Have them over for a double feature: Trekkies and Galaxy Quest. Both movies are joyous celebrations of fandom, particularly Star Trek fandom.
Trekkies
When I first watched Trekkies in 1997, I had not yet been to any sort of fan convention. I didn’t know what filking was and had never read fanfiction. I’d never met a person who would now be called a “maker” (the term wasn’t being used at the time). But I was a fan of Star Trek. Trekkies fascinated, thrilled, and amused me with its stories of people who took their love of Star Trek to great lengths.
Trekkies is a (mostly) loving tribute to Star Trek fandom. Denise Crosby (Lieutenant Tasha Yar, Star Trek: The Next Generation) acts as the host in a series of interviews and conversations. The movie features several actors from the different series. They tell great stories, sometimes funny, sometimes moving. But the heart and soul of the film are the fans who are allowed to tell their own stories. Viewers meet a dentist whose office has a Star Trek theme, a maker who recreated Captain Pike’s chair from “The Menagerie” in the original series, and a woman who wore her commander’s uniform while she served as an alternate juror during the first Whitewater trial. There are times when most viewers will think, “That’s weird,” but the response of more than one fan is, “I’m not hurting anybody.” And, as one person points out, there’s little difference between an enthusiastic Star Trek fan and an enthusiastic sports fan, other than the object of enthusiasm.
Galaxy Quest
In 1999, Star Trek fans were in for another treat: Galaxy Quest. Galaxy Quest revolves around a fictitious, Star Trek-like TV show, cancelled years before the action takes place. Fandom plays a key element in the movie. The story begins with the show’s former actors at a convention, interacting with fans. When the actors find themselves aboard a real spaceship that was based on their ship in the TV series, a teenage fan — who reminds me a bit of a teenager in Trekkies — saves the day with his detailed knowledge of the show.
Aside from the film’s amusing and loving take on sci-fi and fandom, it has great actors. Alan Rickman’s performance is especially wonderful.
People who don’t care for Star Trek and don’t understand fandom may watch Trekkies and Galaxy Quest and come away believing that Star Trek fans are just weird people. But anyone who loves Star Trek or participates in a fandom will “get” these movies. Any fan who has gone out to eat in cosplay (or gone out to eat with people in cosplay) will relate to the Trekkies scene featuring Klingons ordering hamburgers. And fans of Star Trek will appreciate the tropes that appear in Galaxy Quest.
Whether or not you’ve seen one or both of these tributes to Star Trek and fandom, I recommend watching them back-to-back as the ultimate fannish double feature.
Note
I’m giving myself a break from the blog for the rest of the month. I will be back on Labor Day.
Also, if you are into Star Trek or similar fandoms, check out my book, Geek Culture. The book focuses on what may be the largest volunteer-run sci-fi convention in the United States. You’ll read about a bat’leth tournament, party rooms hosted by a Star Trek fan group and a group of Klingons, and plenty of things related to other fandoms, such as Doctor Who and Ghostbusters.
From the very first scene, The Florida Project (2017) is visually stunning and saturated in color. That shines through in promotional images, like the one above, and in the film’s trailer, which could lead you to believe it’s a feel-good movie. It’s not. Watch The Florida Project because you want to watch a good movie… not because you want to watch something happy.
Set in the Orlando area, The Florida Project is the story of Moonee and her mother, Halley. The pair live in The Magic Castle, a budget motel filled with people who are struggling to get by. Moonee and Halley are not particularly likable. While Moonee is mostly just mischievous, she has a mean streak; having learned from her mother’s example, she shouts, “Bitch!” at more than one adult she encounters. Halley clearly loves her daughter, but she also fails to supervise or discipline her. When the motel’s manager warns Halley about Moonee’s behavior, Halley turns to Moonee with a laugh, saying, “I’ve failed as a mother!”
Halley makes bad choices, but she also is stuck in poverty because of her circumstances. She tries to find ways to earn money but seems foiled at every turn. You want to shake her… and you want to help her out. Her story raises the question: How do you fix your life when your options are so limited?
Halley and Moonee are surrounded by a community full of people whose names end in an “ee” sound (seriously, it’s out of hand): Bobby, the hotel manager; Scooty, Dicky, and Jancey, Moonee’s friends; Halley’s friend, Ashley; and Jancey’s grandmother, Stacy. Despite the similar endings to their names, they’re a varied group. Each struggles to make the best of where they are… and some succeed better than others. Bobby (Willem Dafoe) was one of my favorite characters. He’s a mix of tough and tender — probably the sort of person someone in his shoes would need to be in order to successfully manage a motel that serves more as housing for people in poverty than as lodging for tourists.
The Florida Project is heart-breaking — I got a bit teary, though I confess I tear up easily — but it’s also beautiful and thought-provoking. The end is especially interesting — a bit of a jolt from the rest of the film but not, in my mind, in a bad way. Having finally seen it, I understand why people were upset the movie was largely neglected during Oscar season, receiving only one nomination (Williem Dafoe for Best Supporting Actor). You don’t want to watch it when you need something uplifting, but be sure to see it. The acting, the story, the cinematography — all are simply amazing.
The Florida Project is available for streaming or purchase on Amazon.
In the mid-1990s, theaters were filled with movies inspired by Jane Austen’s novels. In 1995 alone, Sense and Sensibility,Persuasion, and Clueless (a modern take on Emma) came out. Those who would rather see a more faithful adaptation of Emma didn’t have to wait long; a version starring Gwyneth Paltrow was released in 1996.
The movies didn’t completely dry up after that, but they did slow down. So when Love and Friendship was released in 2016, Austen fans gobbled it up.
Love and Friendship is based on Lady Susan, an epistolary novella that Austen probably wrote around the age of 19. The movie’s title is a little confusing, because Austen wrote another epistolary story titled “Love and Friendship” in her mid-teens.
“Love and Friendship”
If you’re an Austen fan and have not yet treated yourself to her minor works, I highly recommend them. “Love and Friendship” shows her wit — it’s not yet polished but still uproariously funny. The story begins with two short letters exchanged between Isabel and her friend, Laura. Isabel asks Laura a favor: Would she write to Marianne, Isabel’s daughter, and share the story of her misfortunes? Laura agrees. The rest of the story is a series of letters, all from Laura to Marianne, about her trials and tribulations as a romantic heroine. The 15-year-old Austen doesn’t hold back; Laura’s history is ridiculous from the start. “My Father was a native of Ireland & an inhabitant of Wales,” Laura begins. “My Mother was the natural Daughter of a Scotch Peer by an italian Opera-girl–I was born in Spain & received my Education at a Convent in France.”
“Love and Friendship” contains the kernel of a character type that Austen developed in a more sophisticated way in Northanger Abbey and Sense and Sensibility: a heroine who is too caught up in romance to be sensible. The story reaches the height of ridiculousness when Laura and a friend, Sophia, observe a tragic carriage accident.
Sophia shrieked & fainted on the Ground–I screamed and instantly ran mad–. We remained thus mutually deprived of our Senses some minutes, & on regaining them were deprived of them again–. For an Hour & a Quarter did we continue in this unfortunate Situation–Sophia fainting every moment & I running Mad as often.
The next day, Sophia falls violently ill. As Laura nurses Sophia, her unfortunate friend advises her to “beware of fainting-fits .. Though at the time they may be refreshing & Agreeable yet beleive me they will in the end, if too often repeated & at improper seasons, prove destructive to your Constitution. … Run mad as often as you chuse; but do not faint–.”
“Love and Friendship” is a quick, fun read that treats readers to a glimpse of Austen’s developing sense of humor.
Lady Susan
Lady Susan is more mature and more serious than “Love and Friendship.” Here the letters fly back and forth between several different characters, unfolding the story of a selfish woman who manipulates others to get what she wants. In many ways, she is very different from Austen’s other main characters. Even at her most mean-spirited, Emma Woodhouse is a far better person than Susan Vernon; Emma, after all, has a good heart, even when she is being thoughtless and rude. Lady Susan is nothing short of a villainess who bewitches most of the men around her. The mother of a daughter of marriageable age, she is also older than Austen’s heroines, including Anne Elliott.
But Lady Susan does have the financial desperation that many women in Austen’s novels face. As a widow, she is forced to depend on friends and relatives to keep a roof over her head. Her story begins as she is evicted from one house after “engaging at the same time… the affections of two Men who were neither of them at liberty to bestow them.” The joy of a good epistolary work is that you get to see things from the points of view of different characters. Austen accomplishes that well here. Readers observe Lady Susan from her own point of view and through the eyes of others as she plays with yet another man’s affections and tries to force her daughter to marry the wealthy but dim Sir James Martin. Austen created many delightful characters. Wicked Susan Vernon is definitely among them.
Love and Friendship
Love and Friendship stays true to Lady Susan while making the necessary changes for an epistolary story to work as a movie. Although some of the plot is still propelled by letters, there are many face-to-face encounters that did not occur in Austen’s novella. The movie even brings in an additional character at the beginning so that Lady Susan will have someone with whom she can share thoughts that would otherwise be revealed in letters to her friend, Alicia Johnson.
The movie’s Susan Vernon is every bit as manipulative as her counterpart in the novella, but as we see her in action, it becomes clear just how she can to win men over — even sensible men who have been warned about her — “without the charm of Youth.” I never found myself wanting her to succeed in her plots, but it was easy to see how she might be able to do so, despite the best efforts of those who saw through her.
While Lady Susan may be charming, my favorite character was Sir James Martin. In the movie we see him in his full glory. He is perpetually cheerful and unbelievably simple. I have to bite my tongue to keep from sharing my favorite example of Sir James’ astonishing (yet somehow endearing) stupidity. I want readers who have not yet seen the film to enjoy the surprise. Watch the movie, and you’ll know exactly which scene I’m thinking of.
If you have read Austen’s major novels but haven’t gone as far as to seek out the rest of her writing, I encourage you to do so. While there’s far more to her minor works than “Love and Friendship” and Lady Susan, those two pieces are delightful examples of her youthful humor and her adeptness at creating characters. And if you love Austen in particular or period pieces in general, you should not miss Love and Friendship.
Both of these films are beautiful, even spiritual. Both involve a man on a transformative journey, although the two men start in drastically different places. Both are comedies, though they are deeper than many straightforward movies in that genre. Both have Amanda Plummer (a fact I only realized when looking at her bio on IMDB). And both are worth watching again and again.
Joe Versus the Volcano
Joe (Tom Hanks) hates his job, and rightfully so. He works as an advertising librarian in a bleak, hellish factory that manufactures rectal probes. The lights flicker. The coffee is bad. Joe’s boss won’t even let him keep a garish lamp that brings him joy, though he isn’t disturbing anyone.
When Joe goes home at night, it’s to an empty apartment that’s only a little better than his office. He has neither family nor friends. So when he is diagnosed with a terminal “brain cloud,” he snaps. He quits his job and asks a coworker on a date, which doesn’t go very well after he shares his diagnosis. He seems prepared to spend the final months of his life alone in his apartment, but that changes when a businessman appears with an enticing offer: Joe can live like a king for a few weeks if he’s willing to throw himself into an island volcano. In this way, the islanders will get what they want — a human sacrifice to appease the god of the volcano — and they will give the businessman what he wants — access to a resource on their island.
Joe takes him up on his offer and heads for the island.
The most moving scene of the movie is very spiritual, although not at all dogmatic. Following a storm, Joe is adrift on a patched-together raft with one other person, who has been unconscious the entire time. His situation seems hopeless. He’ll either die where he is, or he’ll somehow make it to the island, where he’ll have to commit suicide. And should neither of those happen, he still has only months to live. But sunburned and thirsty and with seemingly no way out, Joe says a prayer that is neither a plea for himself nor for his companion. He simply expresses awe-inspired gratitude.
I’ll say no more about this movie, but if you haven’t watched it, I urge you to do so.
The Fisher King
Unlike Joe, shock jock Jack Lucas (Jeff Bridges) is on top of the world at the beginning of his story. He’s just received an offer for a role in a sitcom. Sure, he’s having problems with his significant other, but all of that’s overshadowed by his career success.
Then something he said to a listener leads to act of violence, and Jack’s world comes tumbling down.
Three years later, Jack’s a clerk in a video store. He has a new relationship, but he’s barely holding things together. After an evening of getting drunk, contemplating suicide, and then being assaulted by a couple of teenagers, Jack is rescued by a homeless man, Parry (Robin Williams). Parry believes he is a knight in search of the Holy Grail and that Jack has been sent to help him. The plot sounds like a cliché: “man’s life is changed after he encounters a homeless person.” But the film doesn’t come off that way — in part because Jack’s path to redemption isn’t straightforward, in part because the story is propelled by the power of myth.
There are a lot of references to God in this film — from the opening minutes, when Jack declares, “Thank God I’m me,” to his girlfriend Anne’s interesting theory about women, men, God, and the devil. But it’s when Parry tells Jack the story of the Fisher King that the movie becomes spiritually powerful.
There are lots of redemption stories, but there’s something particularly wonderful about this one. Maybe because there’s more to the story than Jack’s redemption.
The next time you’re in the mood for comedy with a little weight to it, look for these two neglected films. It’s a sad day when neither of them makes a 100-best movies of the ’90s list that includes Dumb and Dumber.
Poster from Teslacon. Yes, the image is crooked. Your blogger is exhausted after a long weekend, so this is the best she can do. 🙂
I learned about Michael Zahs at Teslacon, a steampunk convention which itself could be worthy of a “something wonderful” post. I almost missed his movie showing, and I’m very glad I didn’t. Listed on the con’s schedule was this simple entry: “An Afternoon with Michael Zahs & the Films of the Britton [sic] Collection. PART II. Join Film restoration expert Michael Zahs as he takes us into the world of the first films. After years of locating, finding and finally restoring these priceless films he once again shows them to a base of fans that will enjoy every minute of fantasy and adventure they offer.” That doesn’t begin to describe the experience of listening to Zahs talk about the Brintons and the films in their collection. Fortunately, I ran into a friend prior to the showing, and she urged me to attend. It was my favorite part of the convention.
Zahs began his presentation by telling us a bit about W. Frank and Indiana Putman Brinton. From the late 1800s through the early 1900s, Frank and his wife, Indiana, traveled from Texas to Minnesota, entertaining people with magic lantern shows and some of the earliest movies. They were meticulous record keepers who saved everything, such as film catalogs (including possibly the only English translations of a Georges Méliès catalog) and old films. When Zahs ran across the Brintons’ collection at an estate sale, he knew he’d found a treasure. For more than 30 years, he has worked to archive what he found, including digitizing old films.
Although Zahs’ finds included more than films, they are the jewels of the collection. Among the movies the Brintons saved were two Méliès films that have never been found anywhere else: The Wonderful Rose Tree and The Triple-Headed Lady. The former is a very short story, in which a magician, assisted by a woman who loves him, grows a magic rose tree. When the roses are gathered, they become a woman who entrances the magician, to the disappointment of his assistant. When he pursues the magical woman, she turns back into roses, and the tree disappears, leaving the magician alone. The Triple-Headed Lady involves a favorite Méliès special effect: the removal of heads.
In addition to the two missing films, the Brintons saved more Méliès films, at least one film by Thomas Edison, some early color films (hand-painted), footage of San Francisco before the 1906 earthquake, the first film footage of a president (Woodrow Wilson), and many more movies made between 1895 and 1908. Zahs showed several at Teslacon, accompanying them with humorous narration. (He pointed out that silent films were never, in fact, silent. Theaters always would provide music or narration.) I would love to be able to embed just one of the short films we saw in this post, but if any of them are available online, I can’t locate them. And even if I could find them, Zahs’ narration added something that cannot be replaced.
Because of his dedication to preserving this rare collection of some of the earliest films in existence, Zahs has recently been made the subject of a documentary: Saving Brinton. Unfortunately, since I was completely unaware of Zahs or the Brintons until a few days ago, I didn’t know to look for the movie, which has already been to my city. If you are in New York, it will premiere there on Nov. 13 and 14. The rest of us will have to wait until it is released on video. (Perhaps it will be shown in more theaters if it wins an Oscar?)
Zahs is a different kind of hero, but I think historians and film buffs will agree that he is just that. Do all you can to learn about the collection he’s preserving.
I believe I was in college when my mom asked me if I’d ever seen Cat Ballou. I hadn’t, and when she first described it to me, I wasn’t sure I’d like it. At the time, I didn’t care for Westerns, and the fact that it starred Jane Fonda didn’t move me. My mom insisted that I watch it anyway. It’s been among my favorite movies ever since.
If you haven’t seen or heard of this movie yet, then you won’t know that Cat Ballou is a must-see largely because of Lee Marvin’s Oscar-winning performance. He plays more than one character in the film, but it’s his time on screen as Kid Shelleen that makes this movie a work of comic genius.
When I say that Marvin carries the movie, I don’t mean to disparage the rest of the film. There’s plenty more to enjoy. The music is infectious, particularly the songs performed by Stubby Kaye and Nat King Cole. I’ve found myself alone in the car singing “The Ballad of Cat Ballou”: “Cat Ballou! Cat Balloo-oo-ou! She’s mean and evil through and through!” Cole was suffering from his lung cancer while the movie was shot, but his voice was still silky smooth.
The script is fast-paced and entertaining, and the principle actors do it justice. I don’t know what filming was like for them, but it’s hard to imagine that they weren’t having fun. The dialogue is filled with exchanges like Cat’s argument with her “gang” as she tries to persuade them to rob a train. When Clay Boone tells her, “We’re rustlers, not train robbers,” she retorts, “Well, if people didn’t try something new, there wouldn’t be hardly any progress at all!”
But no matter how much I enjoy the film as a whole, Marvin’s performance outshines everything else. Without it, this might have been merely a good movie. With it, Cat Ballou is among the greats.
The tiffin delivery service in Mumbai is famous for its accuracy. The Indian film The Lunchbox (2013) starts with a misdelivered tiffin and unfolds from there.
Ila is a housewife in an unhappy marriage. That first misdelivered tiffin is filled with food she hopes will make her husband fall in love with her again. It arrives at the desk of Saajan Fernandes, a lonely widower facing retirement. He’s supposed to be training in his eager young replacement, but he’s clearly reluctant to do so.
Ila quickly figures out that whoever enjoyed her special lunch was not her husband, so she sends the next lunch with a note. She receives a terse reply but continues to send lunches and notes rather than correcting the delivery service. Saajan also ignores the fact that his lunches are the result of a mistake (after all, Ila’s cooking is better than that of the restaurant that was supplying his meals). Instead, he sends the empty tiffin back with responses to Ila’s notes. Their correspondence becomes increasingly intimate.
I’m not fond of stories about affairs. I hated both The Bridges of Madison County and The English Patient. But The Lunchbox is a different story, in part because Ila’s husband is so horrible, and in part because… well, you’ll just have to watch the movie. I don’t want to spoil it for you.
The story and the characters are reasons enough to watch this film, but the food is what really won me over when I first saw it. I’m a sucker for a good food movie, and this is an excellent one. You can practically smell Ila’s cooking. Just watch this trailer.
The Lunchbox is available through Amazon, from Netflix (as a disk only), through YouTube Movies, and possibly at your local library. Make reservations at an Indian restaurant and then settle down to watch the movie just before you go. Mmmmmmm….
I love sci-fi movies, and there are plenty I’d recommend, but I want to call out what I consider one of the best science fiction films in the last decade: Moon (2009).
If your experience with sci-fi films is limited to expansive adventures, like Star Trek, you’ll find Moon very different. It’s quiet, spare, and melancholy. The action is confined to a commercial lunar station and its surroundings. The station is staffed by one human, Sam Bell, whose only companion is a robot named GERTY. Even Gravity, which also has a limited cast and which takes place mostly in Earth orbit, is wildly different from Moon given Gravity‘s thrill-a-minute pace.
Sam, played by Sam Rockwell, is less than a month away from the end of his three-year contract to work on the moon. His only connection with Earth is through pre-recorded messages; the communication satellite was damaged, and his employer never seems to get around to fixing it. In fact, the company seems downright cheap: GERTY, who sports a tiny screen that displays simplistic faces to suit his “mood,” looks run down and hardly seems to be a suitable companion for a lonely human. He has a boxy main “body” and two disconnected arms, all of which travel on tracks along the ceiling, limiting the robot’s movements. Voiced by Kevin Spacey, GERTY feels more like Hal 9000 than C3PO or even the odd but lovable robots from Interstellar.
The score suits the movie perfectly. Like the setting and cast, it is relatively spare. The main theme is a beautiful, almost minimalist tune played primarily on a piano; whenever I’ve finished watching the film, it’s hard for me to remember that I heard anything besides one instrument and a repetitive melody.
It would be easy to give too much away about this film; in my opinion, it’s best for viewers to go in knowing as little as possible. Do not watch the trailer; it gives away key elements of the plot. Just know that the movie is captivating and thought-provoking and a little sad — much like Arrival. When I finally persuaded my daughter to view it, she scolded me once the movie was over for getting her to watch something sad; I asked, “But did you like it?” and she said, “Yes, but I didn’t expect…” I’ll go no further with that thought. Instead, I encourage you to find a copy of Moon and enjoy sci-fi that may be a little outside of what you have seen before.
