We Are Not Underwater, This Is Really Happening: The Calamari Wrestler (2004)

A recent acceptance into an academic publication has led me to heavily reinvest interest in the manner with which I critically read films and I have been setting aside, in my mind at least, a set of films that I know I want to create papers around, one it particular being the 2007 genre bending Big Man Japan, which reconsiders the Kaiju film by adding a layer of mockumnetary to its narrative, while deconstructing Japanese masculine privilege in the process.  However, I figured this film stood in its own bizarre world and would be somewhat impossible to relate outside of setting it against its wild predecessors in the various Toho films.  Yet, when I hear about a film that focused on the wrestling experiences of a human/calamari hybrid I was rather certain I had found something that would exist, at the very least, in the same space of the cinematically bizarre.  Yet, when I realized that the film was tackling some of the same issues of otherness and loss of male power in a changing Japanese modernity, I was aware that the two films exist in a theoretical framework that first focuses on the state of masculinity within Japanese culture only to immediately dismiss it as a failed notion point of power, one that has been and continually should be undermined for all its absurdity.  Indeed, it is no small accident that both films center their narratives within the notion of combat for viewership, but that will be discussed in more detail in a bit.  It should be noted that The Calamari Wrestler is not the most visually appealing of films and clearly either lacked, or purposefully avoided, a high budget.  I would argue that this is a production choice on the part of those involved to make The Calamari Wrestler come across not as a glossy science-fiction film, but instead; to exist more within lines of the magical realist melodramatic tradition that has the ability to study the human condition from a decidedly detached point of view, while also not become so distancing as to seem impossible.  Sure it is really weird to see a anthropomorphized squid walking about the suburbs of Tokyo, but it is also quite an endearing thing to see him flail his tentacle arms in frustration and stare longingly to the wall as he dreams of past loves.

The Calamari Wrestler takes very little time establishing itself narratively, beginning very in media res with a battle going on between the championship holding wrestler and an up and comer who hopes to make his name in the ring, eventually trumping a great icon of the sport with whom he has been living under the shadow of both professionally and personally in that his girlfriend reveals that she still has feelings for the iconic wrestler to which she was married.  After a successful win, the lights go dark and inexplicably a large squid humanoid enters the ring, quickly defeating the wrestler, much to the shock of the audience and the federations various executives.  Looking at the numbers from the bout, the executives do everything in their power to convince the mysterious calamari wrestler to engage in another fight, hoping that he will take a dive in order to assure the heroic virtues of their young star.  The calamari wrestler is furious at such a suggestion and agrees only to fight on the grounds that it be absolutely real and not staged, hoping to win back the heart of the woman he loves.  Yet, it is this very desire that almost causes him to lose his powers as the calamari wrestler, only managing to be saved at the very last moment by a set of Buddhist monks.  Returning to the bout, the calamari wrestler is stunned when he sees that his opponent has become his own beast man, in the form of a mutated octopus.  While it proves a greater challenge, calamari still wins and goes on to be the champion of the league, as well as an icon within his neighborhood.  Letting his guard down, calamari is attacked by yet another muted man known as The Squilla Boxer, leading the federation to plan yet another huge battle, wherein, they pit the brawn and determination of calamari against the agility and guile of squilla.  The battle is terribly one-sided as squilla brutally beats upon calamari, yet when octopus joins in his aid things are revealed to be far more intertwined than either could imagine, leading to what has to be one of the most unusual reunions in all of cinema, followed by a birth reveal that would give Rosemary's Baby a run for its money.

I mention this film as being a close partner to Big Man Japan, first because they can be seen as unique revisionist Kaiju works, one adding a human component to a genre that is decidedly otherworldly, while the other shrinks down the gigantic monsters to human size, and in the process giving it a degree of human investment.  More simply, the two films manage to ground a genre that lives in a state of excess and cinematic grandiosity.  While it could be contested that the films are simply deconstructionist, particularly Big Man Japan in its mockumenary style, it is far more probable that both intend to reject the sort of masculine entrenchment in the figures of kaiju.  While I am not familiar with Kaiju in any great detail, I did a brief search on Google and discovered that kaiju that are expressly feminine are limited, indeed most websites get creative and include Audrey 2 from Little Shop of Horrors on their lists.  As such, it is a decidedly masculine realm, even for being creatures that are "strange beasts."  Both Big Man Japan and The Calamari Wrestler accept this world to be influenced by the masculine and set about undermining its privilege, whether it be making calamari seem diminutive when forced to exist in a space that does not afford him to use brawn, particularly, the moments when he is shopping, or when Big Man Japan drops the child that is assumedly to be his enemy.  What makes The Calamari Wrestler particularly interesting is that there are layers of masculinity being undermined, competing ones that all find it necessary to evolve to something different to attain power over a competitor.  Essentially, calamari begins as an unusual version of masculinity, one that is mocked and feared, until it is revealed that there is a degree of power and potential in the difference, at which point it becomes the point of desired masculinity.  It would seem at this point that the work is, for all intents and purposes, the opposite of Big Man Japan which chronicles his downfall, yet the reveal at the closing that proves the whole set of bouts to be a result of repressed lack of a paternal figure and a backdoor prodigal son narrative, suggest that a masculine duel that should have existed solely in the private sphere, instead, became a spectacle both of show for the men who wanted their privilege to be acknowledge and of desperation, suggesting that their place in the private sphere leads to their own degree of silencing.  The two films work brilliantly to deconstruct masculinity, if one can get over the layer of absurdity covering each work.

Key Scene:  The entire scene in which calamari works out the initial details for his upcoming match with the federation organizers might be one of the greatest contemporary uses of situation comedy available.

This film needs to be seen, unfortunately, it is hard to come by, but there are ways, one just has to be creative with obtaining the work.

A Lot Of People Are Going To Think We Are A Shocking Pair: Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (1967)

One would quickly assume that a film with such an invested interest in talking about the racial issues and dilemmas of an America still in the grips of a violent, troublesome and, more importantly, societally altering ear of the late 60's would prove troublesomely dated by the time I get around to watching almost fifty years later.  One would assume a lot of things about a film like Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, a work by the great Stanley Kramer and starring some of America's most well-established and well-regarded actors.  I had written the film off, primarily because I feared it would have a sensibility that was indicative of its time and the racial elements would be dealt with in a manner far too idyllic and concerned with political correctness to properly deserve the repeated recognition and devotion even years after its initial release.  Sure it may have been the fact that I had the great fortune of seeing this on a big screen or my adoration for a well made melodrama, but I can say with the utmost certainty that Guess Who's Coming to Dinner is not only the rare stroke of masterful filmmaking that results in a perfect piece of cinema (No Country for Old Men and Casablanca being two other examples from different decades), but one that proves more socially relevant today than it ever has in the past.  Indeed, as I was watching the "gimmick"of this film unfold I could not help but wonder that, if this film had not already existed in the cinematic consciousness of America that the notion of an interracial couple, one of a white woman and a person of color getting married, would have proved equally challenging to much of America today as it, undoubtedly, did in the hostile racial climate of 1967.  I am a bit disconcerted by the seemingly comfortable embraces by some on the film's more comedic elements as being the core to its continued adoration, because it is a searing indictment on both the ignorance spouted by those with foolish racist mind frames, as well as a careful consideration as to what a progressive mind really thinks when faced with the reality of "otherness" or socially revolutionary behavior stepping through their doors. Without a doubt, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner works on a structuralist level, but it works deeper on its pertinent and multi-layered consideration of race in America and teaches lessons far too great to be suppressed and should be required viewing on the ideas of race relations in America, much as the work of Mark Twain continues to exist as a similar frame of reference.

For a narrative that runs well under two hours, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner takes great care to include as much information and consider as many viewpoints on an issue as possible.  The story, of course, focuses on the newly engaged couple of Joanna "Joey" Drayton (Katherine Haughton) a recent college graduate who finds herself smitten with the successful doctor John Prentice (Sidney Poitier).  Indeed their relationship would be relatively normal were it not for the distinct fact that both were of different races.  This noticeable division and difference is immediately condemned by the world around them, but Joey, ever the optimist, believes that her parents will not only welcome John into their family, but they will also be open to their rather quickly thrown together wedding plans.  The first to meet John is Joey's mother Christina (Katherine Hepburn) whose shock is immediately and noticable although she quickly comes to her senses and is happy for the introduction to John, who she finds an upstanding and well-to-do man, although she expresses clear concern for how Joey's father might react.  This hesitation is justified because Matt (Spencer Tracy), the patriarchal figure of the Drayton household is indeed uncertain about the entire endeavor, first because he thinks it to be a hasty decision, and secondly, because he is quite aware of the social stigma the two will carry and the very violent way some of the world will react to such an engagement.  Nonetheless, John explains that he cares deeply for Joey and that he will only marry her should Matt give his consent.  A dear friend of the Drayton family, one Monsignor Ryan (Cecil Kellawy), attempts to assuage the concerns of Matt noting that a change in societal attitudes has to happen at some point, regardless of their liberal views, Ryan reminds Matt that they mean nothing if they cannot be backed up with quantifiable actions.  John faces condemnation from the Drayton's maid Tillie (Isabel Sanford) who finds John's actions reprehensible because he is stepping beyond his race.  Nonetheless, a dinner goes on as planned, only made all the more intense by the sudden invitation by Joey for John's parents to join in the dinner.  Invariably it leads to a serious of dialogues and discussions between the families all of which, ultimately, rest upon Matt's decision to give his blessing, which plays out with a stern sense of importance not only within the narrative, but as an extension to the world outside the film itself, almost as if to speak truth to an injustice that transcends the filmic universe and exists in the very spaces of cinematic encounters.

It is precisely the transcendent elements of this film that make Guess Who's Coming to Dinner a continually relevant film.  It is one task simply to create a (to use an earlier term) gimmick about an interracial couple announcing their wedding plans, however, it is an entirely different film and one that grapples intensely with the personal, social and political ramifications of such revolutionary actions for not only the couple of Joey and John, but for the larger state of their respective families and America as a whole.  Take for example the interactions between Tilly and John in the context of welcoming a new member into the family one would expect Tilly to be quite excited, ecstatic and embracing of the person, especially since John is such an upstanding gentleman.  The problem is, however, that not only does John represent to Tilly a privilege she has not obtained, but it also forces her to come to grips with her own racial oppression as a servant, which affords Matt and Kristina some freedom from the chores of house and home, which she undertakes, and likely returns home to continue undertaking well after her work day for the Drayton's.  Of course, this is a layered reading of the film, all be it an important one, and the real issue comes from deconstructing the notion that a person can separate their racist actions from their verbal claims to be nothing of the such.  If both Matt and Kristina were as open to equality amongst the races as they claim to be, nothing about John would have caused any red flags, certainly not his race.  Kristina, of course, snaps out of her foolishness rather quickly and realizes the two are madly in love and that her hesitation is indeed a result of her archaic views of the world, even if only out of the fear for her daughter and soon-to-be husband's safety.  Matt takes a considerably higher amount of prodding and self-reflection before he can come to grips with the issue, both in the shock that it leaves him in his own belief system, but also because he genuinely believes that the couple will face degradation beyond their worst nightmares.  Indeed it is not until he is reminded that love is a transcendent thing that is often lost with time, by of all people John's mother Mrs. Prentice (Beah Richards) that he comes to understand that his passion for equality will just have to fight twice as hard to help the love of his daughter and John overcome the vast ignorance and hate that they will invariably face.

Key Scene:  The entire movie flows like a wonderful stings concerto starting of simply, perhaps even playfully, but as things come together it is clear that like a concerto normalcy can only stand so long and things swell and swing accordingly, often clashing in purposeful disharmony.  As such, the scene where Tillie finally confronts John with her opinion takes on a layer of fury that is matched by a slanted camera angle and an extreme close-up and this is only one of many scenes where the filmic structure alters ever so slightly to convey a mood.

I was mesmerized by this film on the big screen and am not sure how it holds up when brought onto smaller proportions, as such I would suggest renting it before purchasing.

You Know What's Scarier, The Human Eye: Address Unknown (2001)

I am currently working on a project pertaining to conceptualizing feminist theory through the lens of New Korean Cinema, which means I will be consuming a larger than normal amount of Korean films as a preparation for the large amount of writing and critical theory involved, I will, hopefully, still incorporate other films within the upcoming month, but if it takes a noticeable shift towards South Korean films made in the past couple years, I apologize, although the film's I plan to chose will be somewhat diverse and probably good I could see it being a bit tiresome to a reader expecting a large amount of variety post by post.  With that being said, the initial film I will be mentioning is Address Unknown, a multifaceted period piece that considers the effects of the a westernized force on rural Korean identity during and after the controversial Korean war.  The director Kim Ki-duk has been mentioned before when I favorably reviewed 3-Iron, as well as The Isle , however, had I not done some research about the film I would never had made the attachment between the three films, because they are distinctly different visually and thematically.  If any connection can be made between the three films it certainly has to do with elements of memory, sexual power and intersectionality.  Address Unknown, leans in the favor f The Isle in some of its more violent scenes, yet possesses the poetic somberness of 3-Iron, suffice to say it currently resides as my new favorite film by the director, although as I now know he has directed a considerable amount of films and most of them have received considerable praise, while I know I am going to be considering quite a few works by Korean directors in the upcoming weeks, I would mention keeping an eye out for Kim Ki-duk, because I am intrigued to study him further as a filmmaker, both for the ways in which he creates filmic worlds, as well as the commentaries that occupy his films.

As mentioned, Address Unknown is a a period piece, although that statement is a bit misleading because the events are arguably transcendent of time, as some of the characters styles and commentaries  clearly exist within the contemporary, yet some of the political concerns and presence of the Army suggest a period of at least two decades earlier.  Yet a narrative is created quite clearly one that centers directly on a handful of characters such as Eunok (Min-Jung Ban) a young woman who has been blinded by an accident during playing with her brother years earlier, who seeks an escape from the rural lifestyle, an opportunity that arises when she is approached by a drug taking anger possessing American soldier.  Similarly there is Chang-Guk (Dong-kun Yang) a young man of Korean and African-American descent who takes his outrage at his otherness out on his mother, who is problematically known as a Western Princess.  Finally there is the unusual Dog Eyes (Jae-hyeon Jo) a slightly of young man who has taken up purchasing dogs from local sellers only to turn around and kill them and sell the meat to a community that is, and has been, living off government rations.  The characters have a certain degree of connectedness, particularly Dog Eyes and Chang-Guk who work together in the dog killing business, or Eunok who befriends a shy neighborhood boy he is constantly being defended by Chang-Guk when he is the victim of bullying.  The characters all possess specific desires many tied to escapism, in some cases literally and in other metaphorically yet, ultimately, they all meet somewhat tragic results.  Dog Eyes dies, Eunok is left with a drug-ridden Army man and Chang-Guk has a mother whose past is so defeat and misguided that he acts violently as a means to separate her maternal connections.  It is a movie with grim outcomes, but a pretty honest depiction of post-war Korea, especially its violent connection to Western ideals.

Address Unknown is a film expressly concerned with critiquing colonial oppression, all be it not in the traditional sense.  In the DVD I own Ki-duk provides a brief introduction in which he emphasizes that American soldiers were, and continue to be, stationed in Korea a theme that will be quite central to his film.  One could hope with a sense of idealism that the depictions would be quite kind, yet in the case of Address Unknown little is left to the imagination and much blame is placed on the American occupation, particularly how it relates to notions of femininity, masculine validity and and capitalist endeavors.  Whether it be problematic sexual relationships with dogs or a latent desire to hurt them, this film ties all of its bizarre behaviors to the equally unjustified presence of hot-tempered and condescending English speaking soldiers.  English even becomes a point of oppression and ungrounded pride as is certainly the case with Chang-Guk's mother, as well as the two town bullies that  believe their ability to speak the Westernized tongue affords them undeserved levels of respect and power.  Finally the film also considers the role gaze plays into this colonization and oppression, dealing with it quite literally in the way a neighborhood boy spies on Eunok or in some of the language involving eyes within the film.  Of course, even Eunok's blindness plays into this notion of gaze, although an argument could certainly be made as to her obtaining of vision as being more problematic than productive.  Ultimately, every character within the film is both involved with and blinded by the gaze of the narrative, something inextricably tied to notions of colonial oppression and a a clear pint of contention for Ki-duk.

Key Scene: When Eunok obtains full vision Ki-duk treats the moment with a great point of care.

This is a fantastic bit of work and one of the few Korean films of notoriety that cannot be watched instantly on Netflix, as such renting will certainly suffice.

Top Ten Thursdays: The Criterion Collection

It has been nearly a month since my last one of these, and I figured nothing better than doing it on my ever favorite DVD supplier Criterion.  It is a dream of mine to one day provide my list on their website, but until then I will just have to do it here on my blog.  I will be providing the spine number for these films, as opposed to the usual year of release.

10.) The Seventh Seal (11)

This is one of the first films I purchased from the collection, and perhaps one of the ones with the most lasting impression.  I will forever have the dance of death burned into my mind.

9.) Paul Robeson: A Portrait of the Artist (369)

I am choosing this particular box set more for its historical relevance.  Not only does this set of films include of of Robeson's finest works, it also includes a film by Oscar Micheaux the often overlooked and highly underappreciated African-American silent filmmaker.

8.) The Last Temptation of Christ (70)

"It is accomplished"










7.) The Night of The Hunter (541)

"Leaning..."











 
6.) House (539)

This movie will change everything you understand about cinema, perhaps for better, but probably just for worse.

5. By Brakhage: An Anthology Volume 1 and 2 (184 and 517)

Stan Brakhage is one of the most important figures in the history of film, and only the Criterion Collection could do is films justice.

4.) Hoop Dreams (289)

Probably one of the most critically acclaimed documentaries in the collection, Hoop Dreams will break your heart.

3.) Hardboiled (9)

Long out of print, this John Woo film is one of the most sought after in the collection and it is deservedly so.

2.) Kicking and Screaming (349)

"We eat cantaloupe..."

1.) Do The Right Thing (97)

As I have noted before this is my favorite film and it should be no surprise it is also my favorite in the collection.  The supplements for this release are outstanding.








Honorable Mention

Alphaville (25)
The Harder They Come (83)
 Le Samourai (306)
La Jetee (387)
The Milky Way (402)
Chungking Express (453)
Last Year at Marienbad (478)

You Don't Know Me, But I Know You: The Lives of Others (2006)

The cinema of post-World War II Germany is bleak and desolate.  It displays its expressionist roots, without the faint promise of redemption.  Think most specifically of Fassbinder's nightmares that are often gritty, painfully distant and sparse in dialogue. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck's directorial debut The Lives of Others adheres to this style of filmmaking, but manages to rekindle the glimpses of humanity that had long disappeared from German films.  She is Wim Wenders, but with a tighter focus on reality and a connection to human experience more indicative of Italian Realism.  The Lives of Others is a rather predictable film that still manages to suspend its viewers placing them into dueling worlds in which they are constantly confused about what group represents good and evil, a divide of ideals that is as thick as the wall that divided Germany in the era depicted within the film.

I am going to dance around the rather lengthy and multifaceted plot, because to explain it in too much depth would be to rob viewers of an intensely emotional movie that is almost entirely predicated on character evolution and regression.  With that being said, the film focuses the majority of the narrative on two individuals the GDP lieutenant Hauptmann Wiesler (Ulrich Muhe) whose professional job entails him interrogating dissidents to the GDP, as well as planting and monitoring surveillance setups for possible political dissidents.  The other portion of the narrative focuses on Wiesler's current subject, the famous playwright and previously outspoken political rebel Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch).  After attending one of Dreyman's plays Wiesler suspects Dreyman of political subversiveness and demands to be allowed to monitor him.  Wiesler's higher up dismisses this claim at first, but agrees to allow him access after one of his superiors shows interest in Dreyman's girlfriend and main actress Christa (Martina Gedeck).  Dreyman shows much enthusiasm for his job and is determined to nail Dreyman with insubordination as soon as he finds evidence.  However, as Wiesler comes to discover Dreyman, and his associates are experience a rather unfair living because of the GDP and the simple act of living proves unbearable.  Without expanding further on the plot, Wiesler comes to realize that his actions are inhumane and that his spying is leading to the downfall of an arguably innocent man.  What follows is a both tragic and redemptive film about personal choice and being honest in the face of unseen judgment.

The Lives of Others is preoccupied with voyeurism.  It is both a film about watching those who are unaware of a gaze, as well as the ethical dilemna of enjoying a film about invading privacy.  What Von Donnersmarck does is creates a film where the viewer both condemns and partakes in voyeurism creating an ethical dilemma for the viewer.  We, as viewers,are appalled by the actions Wiesler and his men undertake, yet at no point did I feel as though I should stop watching the film, in fact I eagerly anticipated each of his discoveries and applauded him for using his infiltration to attempt to mend the problems that arose.  However, it raises the question as to whether or not such an invasion of privacy is appropriate, particularly in the wake of ever-increasing government infiltration into our daily lives (Think the PATRIOT Act).  The question than becomes whether Wiesler's good actions justify his voyeurism, because he is inevitably invading privacy to do so.  Or to make it more relative to daily life, is it justifiable for our government to tap are phone calls and hear our most intimate secrets, purely on the belief that one out of every thousand conversations could prove to be a national threat.  I by no means am attempting to provide and answer, but am simply applauding The Lives of Others for bringing the question about so eloquently.  It is a film that displays a quest for answers, but only provides the viewer with questions.

The Lives of Others is the reason blu-ray players exist, but a copy immediately.

It Was Offered For Your Pain, Not For Your Pleasure: The Beguiled (1971)

As I have noted before, the late sixties and early seventies are my favorite era of American filmmaking.  A majority of the films offered during this time period play with narrative conventions to create radical films to challenge the oppressive demands of Hollywood and to use cinema as a voice of opposition to the political ideals of their time.  Don Siegel's film The Beguiled certainly offers such an example.  A trippy film with pseudo-narration, multiple voice-overs and sporadic cinematography, The Beguiled exudes all the rebellion indicative of New Hollywood filmmaking, not to mention it contains Clint Eastwood in one of his finer early non-western films.  The film is a period piece in the most liberal of terms and often incorporates imagery of the early seventies as an ironic juxtaposition to the Civil War being depicted on screen.

The film begins with a series of sepia photos of Lincoln, Grant and other Civil War icons as a way to imply the time period, which leads into a fade to color scene of a young girl named Amy (Pamelyn Ferdin) picking mushrooms in the woods.  While gathering the last few mushrooms a Union soldier falls to Amy's feet obviously wounded from battle.  This soldier in short urgent breaths explains himself to be John McBurney (Clint Eastwood) and pleads for help from the young girl.  This would not be a problem were it not for John being stuck dead in the middle of Confederate territory.  Oblivious to the consequences of harboring a Union soldier Amy brings John back to her all-girls boarding school much to the dismay of the schools headmistress Martha (Geraldine Page).  Martha is concerned primarily for the act of treason, as well as the inherent problem of bringing a young male into a school of young women.  What ensues upon John's stay is a jealousy fueled bout of sexual tension that involves young Amy, Martha, the boarding schools slave and one of the schools other teachers Edwina (Elizabeth Hartmen).  While tense, John is able to stay under the protection of the women, until he makes the mistake of sleeping with one of the young girls named Carol (Jo Ann Harris), who dons a classic seventies haircut, despite the films setting of roughly 1860.  Upon discovery of his act, Edwina shoves John down the stairs, yet again his leg.  Martha, also enraged, amputates John's leg claiming it a necessary act for his survival.  When John awakes and discovers his leg removed, he steals Martha's gun and takes control of the school while waiting for Union soldiers to arrive.  The young Amy, distraught by John's infidelity, as well as his outburst against her pet turtle, agrees to pick poisonous mushrooms to feed him for dinner.  This act leads to John's death and subsequent burial by the women, ending the film on an ominous tone, despite its rather notable moment of liberation for the females involved.

The Beguiled reeks of patriarchal criticism.  Everything within the film has an element of female liberation.  The method of poisoning of John occurs through a natural fungus implying a bond with Gaia or more simply Mother Nature.  Similarly, the entire school of women is a form of liberation, given that prior to John's arrival they had successfully fended off other male infiltration, and it is implied that they will continue to do so after John's death.  Furthermore, the women, led by Martha, take it upon themselves to figuratively castrate John by removing his leg.  John even goes so far as to claim a concern that they will cut of his other leg, pausing a moment before saying leg implying that he fears the loss of another appendage as well.  Even when John attempts to repossess power with a phallic gun, he loses out to his false sense of immunity at the hands of a clever pre-teen girl.  The film also posits a unified womanhood regardless of race or age.  The slave that lives with the girls is allowed free reign to voice her opinion and is careful to make the girls aware that no such thing exists as slave work in their unified commune.  The film even dabbles into images of lesbianism between the schools head teachers, the ultimate form of male exclusion.  The Beguiled is as much a Civil War period piece as it is a lesson in feminine independent sustainability.

The Beguiled is not for everyone.  I am partial to it for its similarities to other trippy New Hollywood films and recommend it to those who share my passion.  I know it plays often on television and is currently available on Netflix Watch Instantly.  Do not pass up the opportunity to view a truly bizarre Civil War film.