Documentary; directed by Douglas Tirola. Magnolia Picture release.
*** out of 5.
When I was not yet a teenager, one of my happiest discoveries in my development as a wannabe humor writer/cartoonist was my dad’s National Lampoon magazines. Full of hilariously sick cartoons, darkly brilliant parodies of ads, other magazines and pop culture in general, while full of bawdy things, this felt like I thing I was both not supposed to see and also needed to showcase to all my friends. Like Monty Python, their work was skewering things that needed skewering, even while also making references young me didn’t always get. The magazines featured plenty of sexy references, drawings, just general naughtiness I really shouldn’t be seeing (but hey, I had divorced, hippy-ish parents so whatevs.)
[Philip Tatler once again coordinated a White Elephant blogathon this year and once again kindly allowed me to participate.]
I admit, Paris Is Burning seemed at first blush an odd choice* for the “White Elephant Film Blogathon,” as a onetime Sundance award-winner it's not exactly an obscure curio. Yet the film I was given is also a bit of a forgotten treasure, perhaps looked upon in recent years (if at all) as a time capsule piece. In fact, a digitally restored print recently made the rounds at Outfest LA and elsewhere, and while the print currently streaming on Netflix is of lesser quality. it still beats the VHS I'd once watched.
[*Truth be told, I'd originally been assigned Showgirls 2, but wussed out after struggling to get through even the first 25 minutes of that low budget “sequel.” I'm sure I would've written something amazing and brilliant about that film, but will try to soldier on here.]
So yes, I'd seen Jennie Livingston's doc once before, not too long after it came out in 1990, it seemed the perfect film for me at the time as a recent transplant to San Francisco, straight but interested in learning more about gay culture after moving to a famously gay-friendly city. But the film is also very specifically about Harlem, New York, drag balls, an incredibly unique subculture with its own language.
The flamboyant costumes are just a part of what makes this film so memorable; as a look at African American gay men, as they put it themselves, a group that has "three strikes against them" (together black + male + gay), it is a moving portrait of people who long to belong, who embrace the sometimes cruel world with humor and panache, and who have found their calling.
That calling is the Ball, a mix of modern + gay infused with elements of classic debutante ball, costume ball, and royal ball, with modeling shows.
"A ball is as close as we can get to all that fame and fortune." - a participant
What's fascinating too is how these balls aren't just superficial fashion shows; they have a extraordinary array of very specific subcategories from military to glamorous, from businessman ("executive realness") to schoolboy/girl realness, that give the participants a chance to play act in roles that they're not often allowed to play in real life without feeling closeted or that it's unattainable. As the Cheryl Lynn song we hear in the film goes, a frequent goal is "to be real." A sharp-tongued emcee comments throughout these shows with gems like "he's dressed like the kid who just robbed you in the streets before you came over here."
I can't remember another film that so poignantly and accurately captures the new families some gay men create for themselves after being estranged from their birth families. Some of these performers were thrown out of their homes, and the "houses" shown in the film (with colorfully intriguing names like House of Extravaganza and House of Ninja) that participate in the balls are homes in more ways than one, giving the "children" a new support system that you get the sense is often a life-saver.
From a filmmaking standpoint, the most important, overlooked element of Paris Is Burning is the absolutely astute editing. The film flows from one character to another, to one subtopic to another, with such natural ease that belies how complicated it is to put a film like this together seamlessly. It remains fascinating throughout, obviously a testament to the unforgettable characters portrayed in it, but also to how tight but subtle the editing is.
It doesn't shy away from the imperfections of the people who participate in these balls, either; we see some cattiness (one participant is told by emcee his fur coat is a lady's fur coat, after being tipped off during a men's clothing competition, which leads to a confrontation) and surprisingly brutal competitiveness. We learn a lot of terms unique to the balls, like "reading" (which seems to be an Oscar Wilde-like cutting remark on a personal level, slurs and insults designed to throw off a competitor that can be playful or not) or "mopping" (stealing). The film also taught me that these guys did "vogueing" first, before Madonna was either inspired by (or ripped off, depending on your viewpoint) to make it more famous in her "Vogue" song. It came from ball contestants doing a one-on-one direct competition with each other to duel on the dancefloor, aimed at emphasizing the face, "a safe form of throwing shade" as one person in film puts it, the name borrowed from the fashion magazine.
Nor does it shy away from sexual politics, or from how race also affects these men's worldview, even if sometimes in cynically playful ways (one scene shows a fashion show where they are dressed up in stereotypically rich, white ways, in yachting outfits that would impress Thurston Howell but with added gay flair). One man in the film points out how many minorities watch very white soaps like Dynasty or The Colbys (dating it), they see ads extolling the upper class white lifestyle, where kids play in lawns instead of in concrete jungle gyms.
"When it comes to the minorities, especially black, we as a people for the past in 400 years are the greatest example of behavior modification in history of civilization… We've had everything taken away but we've learned to survive. that is why in the ballroom circuit it is obvious if you have captured the Great White Way of looking or dressing or speaking, you is a marvel."
The only time the film steps away from this world is to show a glimpse of straight modeling, complete with Eileen Ford and insipid journalists, which serves as a juxtaposition for the hopes and dreams of the Harlem models and a reminder of the world they've been spoofing.
If there's any quibble you can make with the film at all is that it probably could've been a bit shorter; as a slice of life without one main character to carry it through it risks becoming a bit redundant. But all the many characters collectively seen in the film are so utterly compelling it hardly overstays its welcome.
There is humor throughout, mixed with one ultimately tragic storyline about a transexual who is prominent in the film. Paris Is Burning remains poignant and utterly captivating, 25 years later. It may indeed be a time capsule piece in some ways, but the human stories it captures are still easy to connect with today. And from a technical standpoint as a documentary it is for modern filmmakers a classroom in editing, in letting your character speak for themselves, and in keeping it real.
"If you shoot an arrow and it goes real high, hoo-ray for you."
Via Cinephila and Beyond, every scribe (and film buff and Raiders of the Lost Ark fan) needs to read this:
Upon the first story meeting with Steven Spielberg and Lawrence Kasdan, George Lucas hand wrote this treatment for Raiders of the Lost Ark, courtesy of Will McCrabb.
Dear every screenwriter/storyteller, read this: 125-page transcript of the original 1978 story conference between Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and Lawrence Kasdan for a little film called Raiders of the Lost Ark, courtesy of Mystery Man on Film. Needless to say, it’s a brilliant read.
[note: This review is part of a "White Elephant" blogathon coordinated by Philip Tatler of the Diary of a Country Pickpocket blog, in which bloggers/critics are assigned by another participant an oddball film (cult, curio, bad but interesting, etc.) to write about. Check out links to all the White Elephant pieces here.]
The New Kids is one of those '80s relics that you want to dismiss and laugh off but can't quite shake off either.
With script and story by Stephen Gyllenhaal--Jake and Maggie's dad, but also a lengthy, solid career as a TV director (Homicide, Felicity, Numb3rs)--and directed by Sean S. Cunningham, most renowned for launching a successful little horror franchise known as Friday the 13th, The New Kids is very much of the era, and flawed as well as discomfiting enough where you can see why it failed in 1985. But both the casting and an effective exploitation plot that gets your blood pumping make it a worthy cult film.
It stars a young and sweetly appealing Lori Loughlin, who'd later become most famous for co-starring (as John Stamos' wife) on the hugely popular (and hugely insipid) long-running ABC sitcom Full House, and many other TV roles over the years--certainly nothing as dark as this. Her brother in the film was played by Shannon Presby, who would only act for a short time in the '80s (including a "very special" 2-part episode of Diff'rent Strokes that oddly foreshadowed this film in its plot about school bullies.)
The Kid with a Bike (Belgium): Another neo-realist, near-masterpiece from Belgium's Dardennes brothers, this achingly poignant but wholly grounded and vivid drama tells the story of an 11 year old boy who has been sent packing off to an orphanage by his father, a wayward cook who just cannot handle child-rearing. The determined boy is like an abandoned cat who keeps searching for and returning to the owner who longer wants him--which sounds utterly tragic but along the way the boy experiences compassion and empathy from other beleaguered adults who try to help him as best they can, despite his headstrong nature. There are moments of abject joy, along with the sorrow, and it remains indellibly real from start to finish. One cannot help but leave the film in a state of complete connection to humanity. Despite how pretentious that sounds, this is realistic, simple (but not simplistic) storytelling at its finest. Do not miss it.
I Wish (Japan): Hirokazu Koreeda's follow-up to his beautifully sad Nobody Knows once again returns to the kids point of view, if (slightly) more upbeat. This sweet, wistful film is about two brothers who are separated by their parents' divorce and one of them is determined to reunite them--even if without mom and dad (who have their own problems). Full of gentle humor borne out of character, I Wish meanders a bit and takes its time but is ultimately rewarding. Also integrates Japan's train system into the plot, and will delight anyone interested in the island nation's geography. Simple but the film rings utterly true--thanks in no small measure to the performances of the lead children.
Legendary movie effects guru Ray Harryhausen passed away today, and so it becomes a day for all of those who grew up watching movies to reflect on his legacy. I was just old enough to have seen two Harryhausen films in a theater as a lad, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger and Clash of the Titans (the original, problematic film that still looks a lot more charming than the recent computer-regurgitated, heartless, pointless remake). At any rate, one of Harryhausen's most famous stop motion is this still-delightful sequence from Jason and the Argonauts (1963), which set the table for everything from Star Wars to Army of Darkness, among hundreds of other films.
Here's a clip of Harryhausen talking to the Gentle Giant crew about his work.
While we've made great strides in computer-generated action and characterization, there's something about the human-generated stop-motion animation perfected by Harryhausen that still works so much better--it has a tactile, palpable, if quaint, quality. Harryhausen was a legend--and also the nicest gentleman. May he rest in peace.
Patton Oswalt @pattonoswalt: "If I believed in God, I'd want him to be like Ray Harryhausen -- nudging us one frame at a time toward the sublime & fantastic."
My Netflix Streaming and Amazon Instant Picks This Week:
Fat Kid Rules the World: Starring Jacob Wysoki, the touching, big-bodied teen from Terri, Fat Kid is adapted from the cult YA novel by K. L. Going and directed by actor Matthew Lillard, who does a nice job balancing between earnest and dark. There's an engaging musical aspect to the film as our hero learns to find himself by learning the drums, and also a touching friendship between two unbalanced kids. It's not totally perfect--there are times it drags and a few predictable moments--but the cast and the heart bring it home nicely. And what seemed like they would be cliched characterizations--especially his tough father (nicely played by Billy Campbell) and athlete brother--end up surprising, too. [Netflix; Amazon]
The Myth of the American Sleepover: Obviously brings to mind Dazed and Confused (and American Graffiti) in its "one last night" setting but has a modern real-ness all its own. A group of teens of various ages grope and feel their way through one night of sleepovers, lake swims, school angst and wobbly friendships in this beautifully filmed, tender, low-key portrait of teenage life. While ostensibly set in present-day it has a purposely timeless quality to it, too. For all the many dumb, insulting teenage comedies out there, here's one that gets it right. [Netflix; Amazon]
Not to be too trite here but can't resist hoping there is an afterlife with a screening room somewhere. Roger Ebert's death leaves many of us who have dabbled in film criticism, and film in general, reeling (pardon the expression). Though I suspect he was suffering, it's still very sad. He will be missed. I have disagreed with some of his reviews (naturally) over the years but always, always enjoyed his writing and his perspective. He was always accessible but smart. Very important figure in American film criticism. The balcony is closed.
Anyway, here are some links to more reading on the man as we mourn his passing:
I've been so busy helping spread the word about it under more official capacity (via Twitter and Facebook) that I'm remiss in at least doing a quick post here about A Fierce Green Fire. I've been involved with this film since Mark Kitchell first started more seriously working on it in 2002-3, assisting the filmmaker in research and development, fundraising, organization, and whatever else he needed. Then I took a break to work elsewhere, Mark took a break to earn a living, and then returned to it in full fledged fashion a few years ago. I came back here and there over the past year plus to help the film wherever I could, and now that it's become a reality (having played Sundance and many other film festivals, it's now gotten a theatrical release via First Run Features), I've been assisting with spreading the word.
Why all this dedication and time? Because it's a film I greatly believe in--the subject, the history of the environmental movement, is not only ultra-timely, it's beyond critical--but even better, I happen to think it's become a darned good film, too.
I fear people may avoid it thinking it'll be another totally depressing film about the environment, but, while it is appropriately somber, even dire at times, it's also full of life and even humor, from both the interviewees and some of the archival moments as well. These are the stories of a movement, going back to the turn of the century but really starting in the '50s and '60s, so unlike a lot of environmental docs that are focused on the here and now, Fierce Green Fire looks back first to see what we've accomplished, before looking at the now and the future to see what needs to be done (mainly the small task of curtailing global warming).
At any rate, there was a mixed-negative review in the NY Times and a 50-50 review in the SF Chronicle, both of which frankly seemed to have a predetermined point of view before even watching the film, and made a few errors as well--but don't let that stop you, here are some good reviews, among others:
Not a lot of surprises on the WGA's new list of their picks for the 101 (emphatic about getting Notorious on there it appears) Greatest Screenplays.
I am proud to say that I've actually read all of the top 10 scripts over the years (my copy of Chinatown is replete with coffee stains, other unidentified stains and lots of dog-eared pages), and if you haven't, consider this a nudge to do so--or to read any of the ones on this list.
While there are of course many other outstanding scripts over the years that may deserve a spot here, too, it's hard for me to argue against any of these. Perhaps a bit more representation of Japan's cinema might have been nice? But overall, pretty outstanding group from top to bottom.
I've been so busy helping spread the word about it under more official capacity (via 
