I am venturing into Reynolds territory, so I’ll keep this brief and hope he brings some clarity to the role that comedy plays in rendering certain kinds of social relationship visible. A few years ago I went with a few friends to see ‘Jackass’ and it generated a discussion of the difference between being a jackass and being an asshole. That first ‘Jackass’ movie, for all the incredibly stupid stunts, did a good job of illustrating the difference. There was a scene in which the crew race golf carts, and they are jackasses, while the golfers are clearly assholes. Several of the bits were also just hilariously funny.

So the same group of friends went to see ‘Jackass 2′ last night and — surprise! — they are now mostly assholes. There are still some mind-blowingly funny sequences, of which the penis sock puppet and the snake, drinking horse semen, and “the gauntlet” are the best. But the real joy of the stunts has been replaced with a mildly sadistic desire to hurt each other. The key line in the movie is: “was the dick hair really necessary?” It addresses what, ultimately, makes a stunt funny. In that case, the dick hair was actually necessary.

I recommend Hollywoodland, a neat little noir that is no big shakes but is well-handled and intriguing enough. I expect that it will serve nicely as the first part of a double bill with The Black Dahlia, another story of dashed hopes in hollywood. and speaking of the black dahlia, please read the book by John Gilmore (which I’ve recommended elsewhere) called Severed–you can practically feel the seediness of 1940s LA and the desperation of midwestern starlets who find themselves in quasi-prostitution rather than working with Warner Brothers. In Hollywoodland, the nicest bits are Bob Hoskins as a feral studio exec whose wife overtly cheats on him with George Reeves, the man who played superman in the TV series. Ben Affleck, never known for his acting chops, is very fine as Reeves, getting his manner and vocal inflections down without being overbearing. the heart of the film is probably diane lane as the studio exec’s wife, carrying on with Reeves–she projects an interesting mix of sexiness with a tinge of desperation at getting old and at letting her life go to waste in pointless indulgence. Adrian Brody as the detective/plot exposition device who investigates the whole sordid affair (was Superman’s death a suicide or a murder?) is also good. The movie is competently directed by Allen Coulter, a regular director for The Sopranos. one wishes that Coulter had let go a bit in the manner of, say, Jack Nicholson in The Two Jakes (an unjustly overlooked masterpiece–I don’t care what fans of Chinatown say) or David Lynch in Mulholland Drive, but as a sucker for the fatalistic noir genre, I was happy for two hours. I, too, am afraid of being typecast as the invulnerable he-man type.
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I’m annoyed with myself for being unable to write up a short appreciation of Chris Eigeman here; particularly in the context of these two films. I’ve meant to do it for a while; thankfully I don’t write for a living. These two films have recently come out in Criterion editions, and both were quite excellent debut features by directors who had little idea how to make movies going into these. Though Criterion has been releasing some newer American films, I think it’s worth noting that they didn’t do a batch of Stillman or Baumbach; just these two films close together, which have in common only the presence of Chris Eigeman.

I can also say that both of these movies would be - well, not terrible - but not nearly as good without Eigeman, who raises the bar on both. (Kicking and Screaming at least benefits from a decent Eric Stoltz part, but it turns out it was written for him just as filming began, and it seems a little tacked on.)

So, I’m just throwing this out there hoping that Reynolds or someone else will pick up the ball and write somthing interesting about him and the movies he’s been in. (more…)

From next week I’m going to spend almost a month in Sweden doing some research. Any recommendations for Swedish films (especially more contemporary than Bergman), novels, music?

I first heard about Daniel Johnston through Yo La Tengo. I bought a 7″ record that features sleeve art by Johnston. The recording is simple: Yo La Tengo calls Johnston at his home and asks him to sing “Speeding Motorcycle” into the phone while they play along in their studio. His voice, thin and raspy to begin with, sounds tiny and hurt as it comes through the receiver. But he sings with a lot of emotion and gets carried away. And if you look at the sleeve art while listening to the record, you pretty much get who Johnston is. It’s a drawing of him on stage strumming his guitar and singing “Speeding Motorcycle” with an adoring crowd cheering him on. The documentary sticks with this idea: (more…)