The Film Board is excited for the selection of five trailers as contest finalists, two of which will be chosen as winners. We will be using the very scientific method of applause to designate our champions, so we are relying on all of you to come out to the film series this week and next week to practice some clapping skills.
“The Devil Wears Prada” (U.S., D.: David Frankel, 2006)
Friday, Nov. 3, 8 p.m., $4
Last summer was filled with the usual testosterone-pumped deluge of big blockbusters that Hollywood is so preoccupied with. But, amid such male-geared indulgences, was this surprise hit (made for a fraction of the cost) that was all about fashion and beauty. “The Devil Wears Prada” stems from the tradition of women’s films, an almost extinct genre that was a mainstay in Hollywood up to the 1950s. The women’s film centered around a strong female protagonist whose point of view, needs, and desires took center stage. A large part of the genre, which “Prada” brings in the forefront, is the presentation of women as glamorous, attractive, and sexual beings, as well as the fetishized objects they consume. Basically, women’s desires for sexuality, power, freedom, and pleasure could be channeled into consumption. When we see Anne Hathaway go through her dramatic transformation from a frumpy, frizzy-haired waif to a sophisticated, perfectly dressed professional, we are asked to dwell on her appearance and the magnificent items she owns. Her designer bags and shoes, the swanky restaurants and hotels, all provide a blissful eroticism that comes from the luxury and beauty of such spectacle. Although there are inherent problems in the idea that empowerment of women derives from appearances and consumerism, I would argue there is something to be said for a film that positions female desire at its core.
Bottom line: this is a fun, enjoyable movie to see, dazzling to look at, and actually quite good.
“White Heat” (U.S., D.: Raoul Walsh, 1949)
“The Big Heat” (U.S., D.: Fritz Lang, 1953)
Saturday, Nov. 4, 8 p.m. Free!
The consuming threat of jagged shadows, the quick wit of hard-boiled dialogue, the enticing nylon-covered legs of a sexy femme fatale, the bitter tang of post-war American malaise; can you smell the smoky aroma of a good old film noir? This Saturday night, we’ve got a noir double-header of two of the top classic Hollywood crime dramas. We start off with “White Heat,” starring James Cagney as an epileptic and psychopathic murderer with a fast tongue and a fixation on his mother. The illogical story of this epic gangster film is made possible by Cagney’s explosive performance as a character whose complete mental breakdown can only be remedied by the soothing strokes of his mother as he sits in her lap. Following this Freudian shoot-em-up film is “The Big Heat,” made four years later by master director Fritz Lang. The second feature takes the side of a scrupulous homicide detective who seeks justice when he becomes embroiled in a crooked crime syndicate. This nihilistic film, filled with a wonderful assortment of violence, is best known for the shocking scene when a mobster tosses a pot of scalding coffee on his pretty girlfriend’s face, permanently disfiguring her. Now that’s hot.
“Water” (India/Canada, D.: Deepa Mehta, 2005)
Wednesday, Nov. 8, 8p.m. $4
This was by far my favorite film I saw in theaters this past summer and I highly recommend it to everyone. Indian filmmaker Deepa Mehta has created a stunningly expressive piece set in the years before India’s independence that chronicles the Hindu tradition of ostracizing widows to lives of virtual imprisonment. We follow eight-year-old Chuyia, who has never met the husband that has been chosen for her. This mystery man has recently died, forcing her parents to give her up for good and place her in an ashram for widows. In the confined community of women where they must shave their heads and wear the lifelong uniform of a white sari, Chuyia learns of both life’s injustices and joys. Mehta beautifully captures the oppositional forces of a society impassioned by the rise of liberator Gandhi and still tied to repressive and hypocritical traditions. Although the film is set over 60 years ago, its subject and message are pertinent today, proven by the immense opposition Mehta faced during production. The film was delayed for years due to fundamentalist demonstrations, threats on Mehta’s life, and fires started on set. The resulting film is retaliation not through violent anger, but through a poetic and eloquent plea for freedom and justice.
“McCabe & Mrs. Miller” (U.S., D.: Robert Altman, 1971)
Thursday, Nov. 9, 8 p.m. Free!
[Commentary written by Will DiNovi]
Roger Ebert is dangerously and deliciously on point when he offers this effusive praise for the great “McCabe and Mrs. Miller:” “Robert Altman has made a dozen films that can be great in one way or another, but one of them is perfect, and that one is ‘McCabe and Mrs. Miller.’” Set in a wintry Old West town named Presbyterian Church, the film tells the tale of the newly arrived whorehouse/tavern owner John McCabe (Warren Beatty), a man whose exceptional charisma can’t disguise a brain trust that’s a few bricks short of a load. When a major corporation wants to buy out the town for its mining deposits, McCabe forges a tight business partnership and intimate relationship with Mrs. Miller, the sharp-witted Madame played by mind-blowingly amazing actress and Hottie McHotster, Julie Christie (yes, friendly hipster, that is her referenced in the Yo La Tengo song, “Tom Courtenay”). This is a harsh, unforgiving portrait of the Old West rendered in evocative widescreen cinematography and filled with the remarkable ensemble performances that define Altman’s legendary contribution to the American film renaissance of the 1970s. It’s utterly unique in its mix of historical detail and contemporary allusions, but also a vibrant testament to an era in American filmmaking that pulsed with artistic innovation.
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