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April 17, 2009
A Message from Suspiria and Doctor Zabor
January 6, 2009
Pick the Flick!
It’s time to play the newest game that’s sweeping the nation! Or, rather, that would be sweeping the nation if this weren’t the very first installment in it ever published anywhere.
Here are two plot summaries.
One is a highly-lauded art film, well-known for its sumptuous cinematography and its brilliantly understated performances!
The other is a cheaply-produced exploitation flick that is remembered for its beautiful star and its wild, over-the-top abandon.
So, can you spot the film? Can you pick the flick?
Movie A:
A spoiled-rotten younger woman marries an old business tycoon. Frequently neglected by her husband, she falls in love with her stepson - who is closer to her own age - and they conduct a season-long affair all over the countryside!
Movie B:
A young woman trying to succeed in business is used and manipulated by every man around her and manages to get nowhere, while all of the women who willingly surrender rise in the ranks above her!
Which one’s the film and which one’s the flick? The answer is in the extended entry!
January 5, 2009
Unfair, meet inaccurate. Inaccurate, this is unfair.
It would be unfair to say that great art is not nearly as memorable as the kind of film we think of as disposable.
It would be unfair because great art in film enriches our lives, uplifts our spirit, or leaves us standing slack-jawed in shock and perhaps a little bit of dismay. Unfair because great art in film has the ability to move us, to stick in our minds and give us memories to hold and to cherish. When art can mean so much to us, to deny that it has any effect - or that it has a lesser effect - simply because it is art would be to deny it the credit it is due.
On the other hand, it would be inaccurate to say that “disposable” media is not as powerful as artistic media. Inaccurate because sometimes it is the pulp film, the film that is thought of as a product of the moment, that sticks in our brains and makes us ponder the moment and why it worked.
Yes, art films can inspire and uplift or shock and appall, but pulp films perform the same function. And the chances are very good that in your life, you will see more of the latter than of the former. And with good reason. They’re movies that draw us into the theatres. Sometimes, it can be hard to get into the mood to watch an art film. But any mood can quickly become a mood for pulp.
It would perhaps be more fair and more accurate to say that it doesn’t matter the size of the budget, the intent of the filmmaker, how permanent or ephemeral the film is intended to be. All that matters is the person behind the camera and the people in front of it - the skill they show, the craft they bring to the table.
It is the artists that determines the impact - and not whether they defined their work as “art” from the start or not.
January 4, 2009
With a Little Drop of Poison
Heigh-ho, an artist's life for me...
I will talk to you of art
For there is nothing else to talk about.
For there is nothing else.
Life is an obscure hobo
Bumming a ride on the omnibus of art.
Next to Little Shop of Horrors, A Bucket of Blood is one of Roger Corman’s best-known and loved works. A mild-mannered little gem that was shot in only five days on a miniscule budget - and the only time that the underappreciated Dick Miller has ever been given a starring role.
Walter Paisley is a wannabe - sweeping the floors and bussing the tables in the coffeeshops where beatniks go to read poetry and talk about art and sex. In his heart, Paisley yearns to be a great artist. But he soon learns that the only way he can bring his art to life is if something else dies to feed it.
All over the world, critics have been quick to pounce on this theme and proclaim the film to be a reflection of how Roger Corman saw himself. And many of them want to talk about how it clearly shows Corman wanted to be an artist, but he felt he was stuck in the film ghetto of exploitation and horror.
But maybe it’s not simply a cry in the night - a scream of “Dear merciful God in Heaven, how did I wind up here?” Perhaps it, like Corman’s own Little Shop and H.G. Lewis’ Color Me Blood Red (both of which have similar themes), is not about the artist decrying his own work.
Perhaps it’s about the artist understanding his work.
We idealize the classics as though they were flawless. They succeed, we say, because they worked on a higher plane. They didn’t stoop to the lowest common denominator.
And yet, the Greek tragedians wrote in comic relief.
And yet, Shakespeare played to the groundlings.
And yet, Rebel Without a Cause features car races and knife fights, while Howard Hughes’ The Outlaw would never have drawn crowds if not for Jane Russell’s… bouyancy.
And yet, and so on, and so forth…
Art must have an audience before it can express to them - and something about the struggle of wannabe artist Walter Paisley has made him iconic even generations after he was first committed to film.
In all art, there is a dash of blood, a whiff of sex.
Because we like our films with a little drop of poison.
January 2, 2009
We Have a Posse on Broadway
"Chee, Seymour! Dey's singin' about'cha!"
It is said (by certain hackneyed folks) that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. And in the world of the theatre, that’s always been the case.
We’re inspired by what captures our imagination - driven to create at least in part by the creations that have fascinated us. Once upon a time, musical theatre drew from the classics. Kiss Me, Kate and West Side Story brought Shakespeare back to the stage with song and dance. My Fair Lady added catchy songs and a happier (if less realistic) ending to George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion.
And then there’s Little Shop of Horrors.
In the 1980’s, Alan Menken hit Broadway with the show. His only previous work had been music for a stage adaptation of Kurt Vonnegut’s God Bless You, Ms. Rosewater. The musical, laced with a 1950’s pop sound, captured hearts and minds almost immediately and ensured a long career for its songwriter, who went on to compose songs for both Sylvester Stallone and Disney flicks. Today, Little Shop remains one of the most popular musicals for community and college theatres.
Not bad for a play based on the quintessential midnight movie - a Jewish comedy-laced horror/romantic comedy shot by Roger Corman because, hey, he had the set from his last film for two more days before it had to be torn down.
These movies with their low-rent charm and crazy, over-the-top stories continue to inspire modern artists, with even the next generation of midnight movie getting in on the act. Night of the Living Dead:The Musical, Evil Dead: The Musical, and - although a little more Hollywood - Carrie: The Musical fill up the fringe theatres to capacity with appreciative audiences while Broadway looks to Abba and Hollywood romantic comedies (themselves based on earlier musicals and plays) for their inspiration.