You Bought A Used Jacket? What Are We Poor?: Desperately Seeking Susan (1985)

I am a huge proponent of reconsidering the classic eighties films that for one reason or another managed to become second rate to their more successful contemporaries, particularly when the films manage to achieve a certain cult status, which is certainly true for a personal favorite of mine in Repo Man, as well as the recently reviewed Earth Girls Are Easy.  Of course I cannot love every film and certainly am not adoring of everything produced, although I tend to be pretty favorable for most works reviewed on this blog, however, I occasionally just do not enjoy a film, 1985's Desperately Seeking Susan stands to be one of those films, which is not to say it is bad or anything, but is simply nothing I found profound or deserved of its seemingly unquestioned cult status.  While the film certainly possessed a degree of quotability and a rather stellar cast for the era, including many of my favorite actors from the works of Jarmusch and Lee, it falls short so obviously that it cannot justify a high level of praise.  Furthermore, the main factor in me not completely dismissing the film resides in its being directed by a woman a feet that was rare in the 80's and still proves quite uncommon even today.  In fact, I find myself perplexed as to its sustained popularity, perhaps it is due to some brief nudity on the part of both lead actresses respectively, although if one were to seek a piece of media solely for a naked Madonna, it seems as though this rather forgotten film of the eighties is a bit out of ones way.  To be fair I did read a handful of reviews on the film as a means to attempt to sway my feelings towards the "cult classic," and while this did not prove successful I have been led to believe that Desperately Seeking Susan does reflect the wild and wily ways of the hip crowds and individuals occupying upper class New York during the time something I find myself surprisingly turned off by, as was the case with Metropolitan a film of which I should have loved, but found off putting in its distancing.  Honestly, Desperately Seeking Susan is not an awful film, it is actually considerably decent, however, the world portrayed and the methods of narration enacted were far from something I desired to embrace

The film, taking the famous lines of newspaper classified, expands on this notion to suggest that somewhere in New York City a couple uses this unusual form of communication to meet up on rendezvous, in this case the appropriately named Susan (Madonna) and Jim (Robert Joy) whose relationship is considerably strained since Susan appears to be a part time prostitute, while Jim is clearly preoccupied with seeing his band succeed, nonetheless, the duo manages to make things work, while becoming engaged "accidentally" within mob activities.  Enters Roberta (Rosanna Arquette) a rather disillusion housewife, whose husband Gary (Mark Blum) engages in the selling of pool and spas and rarely pays attention to his wife, who according to other may have suffered from a severe lack of sexual satisfaction.  In an attempt to add variety to her mundane life, Roberta decides to tag along to one of Susan and Jim's classified adds, in which she hopes to meet the lovebirds and undertake a bit of vicarious happiness, yet through a rather tragic twist of fate and the obtaining of one of Susan's signature clothing items only days earlier, Roberta is mistaken for Susan, leading to her being attacked by a mafia hit man.  After slipping and hitting her head, Roberta loses consciousness only to awake to Dez (Aidan Quinn), a friend sent by Jim to meet Susan and not having any memory due to her brief unconsciousness, she assumes herself to be Susan, causing Dez to take her back to his place and protect her from the unknown attacker.  The rest of the movie, suffice to say, focuses on the issues of the miscommunication by everyone involved, particularly since everyone appears to have an issue to hide, all of which explodes in a final and admittedly hilarious confrontation, involving humorous use of Madonna's own music, in a tip of the hat moment of meta filmmaking.  Also something involving a stolen pair of earrings seems pertinent to the larger story, all be it a bit forced.

As one could expect from a major film of the eighties, especially such a liberal leaning, feminist oriented film (again it would seem a perfect film for my palette) the narrative focuses on the tragedies of capitalist desires and conspicuous consumption, most blatantly in the character of Gary, who demands that everyone at a party view his commercial, which of course has a unique place in Marxist rhetoric in that it is a product with value that is designed to promote another product with a value.  Yet no amount of financial comfort or clear monetary success seems to prove fulfilling for Gary, let alone Roberta who suffers from another level of dissatisfaction.  In contrast we have Susan, engaging in prostitution, which is popularly known as the worlds oldest profession, but something with no quantifiable value, save for unfortunate cases involving STD's, which problematizes notions of capitalist associations of monetary value when it is purely for a qualitative act.  Yet, even Susan who engages in the problematic act of prostitution consumes conspicuously, however, she uses a bartering system to obtain her desire items, in the case of the narrative a jacket.  Her free movement from house to train station, also contests notions of capitalist power, because much of value is predicated on possession of private property.  If the film played more into these commentaries and the issues surrounding them, perhaps then I would be completely enamored with Desperately Seeking Susan, tragically none of this proves to be the case and instead the film plays too much into burgeoning or suppressed sexualities, without really even revolutionizing the discussions around both.  Perhaps the real tragedy of the film is its desire to comment on every problem in America without properly approaching anything specific.

Key Scene:  I guess if one were to be picked I would go with the train station scene involving Susan initially as it is a considerably solid introduction to the characters lifestyle and subsequently their psyche.

This is a film to avoid for the most part, although I know many people do love it quite a bit, as such I will leave the decision up to others.

You Don't Go To Work Everyday. You Got To A Bar Everyday: Trees Lounge (1996)

It is fitting that right off of my month of horror films, I got into something like Trees Lounge.  The film is about gross people, living in a gross existence dealing with the gross experiences surrounding their lives.  However, as Steve Buscemi's directorial debut, this focus on less than amicable persons manages to capture a few moments of beauty within these somewhat uninspired lives, as well as catch more than enough of the tragedy one can expect latent within the films subject.  Furthermore, the film captures a few moments of comedy, as one could come to expect when considering Buscemi is in control.  A criticism could be directed at this film for being somewhat slow in its pace and a bit all around in what exactly it is trying to say, but I cannot help but find a simple adoration in what is both being said and not said within the film.  The actors, a mixture of notable stars, indie icons and flat out amateur individuals allows for something that both seemingly reflects a film about drifting personas as well as a conscious commentary on the cyclical nature of joy and pain as it reflects a larger concept of humanity. It is quite likely that Trees Lounge could have been so much more, but I would argue for a directorial debut that it too could have been so much less.  It is hard not to find something to love about this film, even if the characters are inconceivably unlikeable.  The soundtrack is magnificent and contains a level of hipness that could easily cause one to think that it is a Jim Jarmusch film, a notion that would be seconded by the somewhat cursory nature of the relationships between the individuals in the film narrative.  Trees Lounge does not exist as a film concerned with overdramatizing life and all its woes, instead; it simply portrays one man's desultory movement around a small town, in which he finds many half-hearted friends, a night of fleeting love and quite a few enemies, ultimately, realizing that a life he thinks to be uniquely his own has already existed, and its outcome is less than welcoming.

Steve Buscemi plays a double role in that he is the director, as well as the the main character of the film, Tommy, a down and out alcoholic, whose severe gambling habits have cause him to become unemployed, losing his job as a mechanic after stealing from his boss Rob (Anthony LaPaglia), who just happens to be living with Tommy's ex-girlfriend, and possible mother of his child Theresa (Elizabeth Bracco).  Nothing seems to fair well for Tommy, he continually seeks jobs as a mechanic, only to be turned down, leading him to continually drink his evenings away, until the passing of his Uncle Al (Seymour Cassel) causes him to revisit many of his detached family members during a funeral.  Many of these family members are less than receptive to their alcoholic kin only offering passive acknowledgement of his presence, save for a close family friend's daughter Debbie (Chloe Sevigny).  After taking up Al's former job as an ice cream truck driver, Tommy finally appears to have things going for him, even making a close relationship with one of his fellow bar fly friends Mike (Mark Boone Junior), as well as spending much more time with Debbie.  It is, in fact, during one night at the bar that Debbie's appearance spurs Tommy to spend more time with the young girl, eventually leading to a night of them making out.  Debbie's father and close friend of Tommy's Jerry (Daniel Baldwin) discovers what Tommy has done and enters into a fit of rage, resulting in chasing him down about a baseball field grabbing a bat to take to not only Tommy but his ice cream truck as well.  The film then displays Tommy discussing an alternate future with Theresa in which they both would be happy sharing a child together, before he eventually heads back to the bar to take his place in the seat of a former regular whose leave of absence was due to health issues, suggesting his own future in the process.

The basic premise of Trees Lounge does not sound as though it will make for a particularly watchable film, viewers are essentially provided with a variety of druggie alcoholic individuals who fail to take any credit for their lives, particularly in that they seem more content with numbing their minds from their despair than actually rising above their situation.  One could certainly make this case for Mike who desperately wants to rekindle a relationship between his wife and daughter, but cannot bring himself to leave the bar for a day or to provide an honest account of anything to his wife.  Instead of accepting his problems, Mike continually blames his wife for refusing to accommodate his selfish demands.  Similarly, Tommy continually complains about the issues of not having a job and how it is affecting his ability to traverse through a confrontational world, yet seems quite content to blow what little money he has on booze, or ignore job offers that he deems above his character.  These descriptions certainly reflect a film in which the characters are not redeemable, but a larger issue of lack of communication and community influences the narrative.  Tommy, Mike and a few other regulars know each other closely, however, when it comes to helping one another do anything but drunkenly walk home they could care less for their safety.  For example, Mike has an opportunity to employ Tommy within his moving company but ignore his requests, perhaps because he figuratively cannot hear Tommy's cries for help, or literally does not want his stoic, cool bar persona to become connected to his rather loathsome public persona.  Even when Jerry assumes that Tommy might be taking a liking to Debbie, he could have been more adamant about it not occurring, but a lethal amount of indifference causes him to shrug his shoulders and inevitably let it occur.  Characters in Trees Lounge are afraid to communicate and this lack of interaction causes for a fractured and, continually, doomed community, one which Tommy is likely never to escape, and perhaps we should on a very small level feel bad for him.

Key Scene:  The entire baseball confrontation is perhaps one of the funniest things to ever happen in an indie film.

This film is well worth watching, buying a copy is perhaps not that necessary, but, thankfully, it is on Netflix watch instantly making a viewing quite easy.

If You Weren't Fine, I Wouldn't Even Bother With You: She's Gotta Have It (1986)

I am an outspoken fan of Spike Lee’s work.   To many, he is a blowhard filmmaker who is self-aggrandizing and too preoccupied with racial representation to create a proper film narrative.  I, on the other hand, view Lee’s work as existing as a honest commentary of race that is critical of all parties involved, as well as being particularly self-reflective on his existence as a black male in the urban landscape of America.  With that being said, I had up until a few days ago failed to view his debut work She’s Gotta Have It, because it was simply out of my points of access.  With it’s recent release to Netflix Watch Instantly, I seized the opportunity to view the film and was, as should be no surprise, enamored with its existence.  It is a fantastic study of black life in New York City that is critical, hip, and extremely approachable, often mirroring the work of Lee’s contemporary Jim Jarmusch.  In the film, as Lee would prove to do countless times afterwards, the characters are vibrant, believable and problematic, reflecting both the pros and cons of any ideology without necessarily promoting a singular idea.  On a much more important level though, She’s Gotta Have it focuses on narratives that are still overlooked in Hollywood, and even independent cinema, and at no point in this experimental narrative does the film apologize for lacking traditional images, arguably it relishes in ignoring them, and it is perhaps this that proves to be its most lasting contribution.

She’s Gotta Have It, as the title suggests, centers on a woman named Nola Darling (Tracy Camilla Jones) who is so attached to sexual encounters that she is seemingly tied inextricably to three relationships with distinctly different men.  The first being the suave and charming Jamie Overstreet (Tommy Redmond Hicks) who clearly desires a meaningful relationship with Nola that involves feelings of romantic love.  The second being the self-obsessed and vain Greer Childs (John Canada Terrell) who obviously sees Nola as arm candy meant to be paraded as an object of envy.  Finally, there is the sharp tongued messenger boy Mars Blackmon (Spike Lee) whose only concern with Nola seems to be sexual conquest.  The three men spend the majority of the film attempting to claim Nola for their own using every form of convincing they deem fit to persuade her to their side.  For Jamie it includes romantic outings and words of affirmation, for Greer it is nagging reminders of his physical superiority, while Mars simply belittles the masculinity of his competitors and clings to his black hipness as a point of power.  Realizing the mess she has entered Nola seeks advice from her former roommate Clorinda Bradford (Joie Lee) who reminds her that she is in sole control of her life, and that no male persuasion should make her sway one way or the other.  After briefly returning to Jamie, Nola decides to pursue a life without the overbearing opinions of the three men and is shown in the films closing shot claiming innocence, confessional style, to any negative claims spouted by Jamie, Greer or Mars.  She is a woman who was simply acting out her own desires, and the fact that these men were so upset by the entire ordeal purely reflects each one’s immaturity.

While I am quick to praise what Lee offers with She’s Gotta Have It, like much of his work, it is not void of points of contention.  The film clearly walks a very thin line between astute relationship commentary and blatant accusations of women for being at fault in any relationship.  As mentioned earlier, the film is partly a confessional documentary in which each of the characters explains their opinions of the events.  It is clear that the men depicted think Nola to be of less than reputable character.  They find her sexual prowess to be unhealthy to her as a woman, but nothing is made of their own flippant sexual behavior throughout the film.  While it is entirely possible that Lee is depicting the absurdity of masculine sexual power, it is never fully dealt with in a manner that assures this opinion.  Similarly, Nola is depicted in the nude at various points in the film, often times in direct gaze during the film, suggesting a voyeuristic element that would align more with Mulvey and criticism of traditional women’s images in film than with a new a fresh view of women for which the independent film movement known.  Lee clearly enjoys depicting women sexually in his films, an occurrence that would surface again with Rosie Perez in Do The Right Thing.  Ultimately, while She’s Gotta Have It has a large amount of problems within its narrative, I find its positive commentaries on the experiences of black urbanite relationships to outshine any issues and it is certainly deserved of the moniker of being one of the first offerings in American independent cinema.

I cannot recommend She’s Gotta Have It enough; it is a rare feat of masterful independent filmmaking and one of the best things offered on Netflix right now.  Under no circumstance should you miss watching this film.

Perhaps So, I’ve Brought The Apple Anyway:…And God Created Women (1956)

The world was never the same after the introduction of Brigitte Bardot and cinema has this film to thank.  Perhaps more well-known for his cult classic Barbarella, Roger Vadim’s film is a sexual romp through the French coast that is as sultry as it is sentimental and serves as one of the fleeting moments of brilliance that existed in France prior to its filmic upheaval that would be the French New Wave. It is at times funny, while at others tragically serious, but despite its wavering it never manages to loose its illustrious Technicolor flow fashioning itself around a young vixen whose on screen presence would forever change the way sexual promiscuity was framed worldwide.

While Juliette (Brigitte Bardot) is the character the films title references, the actual narrative is more concerned with the small Tardieu family as they attempt to secure their living amidst the ever contentious demands of a sleazy businessman whose interests also lie in dominating the young Juliette.  An orphan, Juliette fills her days with lackluster work at a bookstore and dancing into midnight, actions which eventually lead her foster mother to banish her, stating that she is to return to a far off boarding school.  Realizing her imminent loss if she were to be relocated, Juliette prays on a the middle brother of the family, using his shyness against him and becoming a femme fatale of sorts, ignoring the death associated with the character as it relates to film noir.  Her seduction of the middle brother is partially for self-perseverance, but it also is intended to exact revenge on the family’s oldest brother who unknowingly admits his attempts to use Juliette at a late night party.  The film then spirals into a abyss of infidelity, double speak and business, which witnesses the Tardieu’s dismissing their land with the promise of earning off of whatever is built.  In a fleeting moment, the oldest brother and Juliette engage in an act of intercourse, which ultimately destroys the rather close relationship previously existing between the Tardieu’s.  In the classic femme fatale fashion, Juliette remains relatively unharmed and appears to have learned very little from the endeavor making the men’s unrestrained desire the problem, as opposed to the innocence of a young vixen.

The critiques of this film are vast and varied, but I find the most obvious ones to emerge when approaching it from a feminist lens.  The first issue is the most blatant, it is a film preoccupied with the male gaze.  Our first introduction to Juliette is of her legs as they emerge from behind a dangling sheet.  The film then cuts to an old man approaching her with a toy, yet in a moment of cinematic genius it then cuts to a far off house to show that yet another man is gazing at the young girl.  In this sense, Juliette cannot escape the gaze of men within the film, let alone the gaze of the films viewers.  Furthermore, the film relishes in the notion that Juliette is a sexual object.  The eldest son Antoine (Christian Marquand) is never punished for his open claims of desiring to degrade Juliette and, in fact, he is rewarded by eventually claiming her sexually.  This lack of concern for Juliette is only furthered by how little is known about her past.  It is evident that Juliette is the black sheep of the community, but her association with disdain is rarely elaborated on and instead appears to be from deep seeded jealously on the part of the women in the community, yet another problem addressed by feminist.  Jealously is solely the result of a patriarchy that demands women be sexually desirous, an obvious undertone in this films narrative.  To put it succinctly the film does not treat women well, but is certain to chastise the men for their actions, perhaps it’s only redeeming feature (besides the luscious Technicolor of course).

This is not one of my favorite Criterion releases by any means, but it is quite good.  I would only suggest snagging a copy if you are a CC fanatic and want to one day possess the entire collection.

Maybe We Don't Have to Find It, Maybe We Are the Pieces: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist (2008)

Sometimes for a film, soundtracks are everything, especially when said film implies music in its title.  Like Richard Linklater's Dazed and Confused, Peter Sollett's 2008 film shows an equal, if not greater, concern for what is heard, as well as what is seen.  From the ambient echoes of Band of Horses to the harmonious upbeat tunes of Vampire Weekend, Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist uses its musical pretentiousness to tell its story, and does so with great success.  It is a movie about, for, and in all likelihood by a music geek and in creating such a film, Sollett easily reflects his passion onto the screen for ninety minutes.

The film is seemingly simple in its plot.  It is the classic John Hughes movie, awkward guy loses girlfriend is a wreck and hopes to win her back.  Another girl secretly desires the awkward guy...they magically end up stuck together for a night and suddenly they realize they are soul mates.  It is really that simple, of course that goes to say that as a movie this takes many obstacles and ex's interference before occurring.

What makes the film distinctly different is the cast of characters.  With the exception of Micheal Cera...playing Micheal Cera, the group of actors are delightfully unconventional.  It is particularly nice to see a film where the main character's friends are openly gay and yet completely accepted.  The film does make note of their homosexuality in jest, but each occasion is quickly countered with them possessing their sexual identity without shame, going so far as to name their band A Fistful of Assholes.  The characters accept themselves, and those shown to be unhappy end up alone (as do Nick's Ex and Norah's belligerent friend), or without the record contract (as do a group of faux-Jewish rockers who use their heritage in an exploitative manner).  The film promotes honesty and self-esteem and certainly reflects these ideals throughout.

The filming relies heavily on artificial lighting to create a glossy feel, as the characters seem to pass through a dreary New York City which is full of rain drenched streets, off-yellow Yugo's and all male revues involving Jesus and bottomless altar boys.  The film is a stroke of genius that can easily be enjoyed.  If you have a significant other, I would suggest watching it with them, it certainly made my own viewing experience more pleasurable.  Also, check out the soundtrack, it is for all intensive purposes glorious.

The Key Fits, But It Won't Turn: The Pleasure of Being Robbed (2008)

Low-budget independent cinema has lead to the emergence of a genre known as mumblecorp.  This film style is synonymous with faint dialogue, choppy editing and super obscure indie music.  Joshua Safdie's 16 mm independent film The Pleasure of Being Robbed is a mumblecorp film in everything but name.  The editing is an amalgamation of famous moments from other movies and obviously borrows quite heavily from Woody Allen and Richard Linklater.  It clocks in at just over an hour and leaves the viewer feeling as though they have watched nothing more than an experimental student film.  The film was enjoyable, but everything shown has been done before and with much better results.

The film purposefully avoids a plot, in order to allow for the character of Eleonore (Eleonore Hendricks) to move freely throughout New York and Boston partaking in kleptomania.  She meets everything from an amateur ping-pong player to a seemingly jobless friend who helps teach her to drive a stolen car.  Beyond this very little occurs and Eleonore is left to realize that her criminal ways will result in her own entrapment, a scene which occurs quite beautifully in the Central Park Zoo.

Sadly, this film reeks of trust-fund hipster pretension, as all of the characters seem to exist in a world where their actions have no financial or legal consequence.  Eleonore steals simply for the fix and attempts to explain to one woman that she only wants to look through her purse.  The film appears to be making a statement about poverty and desire, yet the people shown all drive a Volvo and afford large collections of music for their apartments.  I can only feel that this film falls into the "Stuff That White People Like" category, but fails to show that those same individuals understand poverty or the true experiences of a troubled life.

This film is not awful by any means, but simply does not deliver.  Its biggest redemption comes in the cinematography, but most of that can be directly linked to the use of 16mm as a medium.  I cannot recommend this movie; instead, I would suggest checking out  Gus Van Sant's Mala Noche for a brilliant independent student film, it is leaps and bounds more enjoyable.