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In Praise of the Weepie (‘St. Vincent’)

October 19, 2014 in Film Matters, Reviews

These days, earmarking a film as a weepie is like signing its death warrant. Not only will it be scorned but its ability to make us cry will be the only criteria by which it’s judged. And there’s no winning either way: If the film does induce tears, it’s lambasted for being manipulative. If it doesn’t, it’s not adequately doing its job.

Certainly “St. Vincent,” a heart-rending indie about the friendship between Vietnam vet Vincent (Bill Murray) and young Brooklyn boy Oliver (Jaeden Lieberher), may not be receiving the high marks it deserves. Admittedly, its premise could go either way. As Vincent, the vet in question, Murray is a broke misanthrope who spends his time gambling, drinking, and shtupping a pregnant Russian prostitute (Naomi Watts) until his newly single neighbor Maggie (Melissa McCarthy) recruits him to watch her twelve-year-old son. The hapless boy blooms, and Vincent proves far kinder than he seems – if still wildly inappropriate.

A grumpy codger with a heart of gold is not exactly a new story; everyone from Billy Bob Thornton to Walter Matthau to Jack Nicholson has tried his hand at it. God knows a hooker with a heart of gold is one of the oldest film tropes around. But by now everything’s been done a kazillion times so unoriginality is hardly a deal breaker. (Cue the myriad dystopias flooding multiplexes this year.) This film boasts an expertly layered story, with such strong dialogue, editing, and casting that it earns its keep, as well as the tears it inspires. That said, it might be lost without Bill Murray. Continue Reading →

Love and Memory: ‘Hiroshima Mon Amour’

October 17, 2014 in Feminist Matters, Film Matters, Reviews

I’d always suspected I would swoon over “Hiroshima Mon Amour” (1959). It is directed by Alain Resnais, who was riding high on the French New Wave. It is written by Marguerite Duras, the French symbolic novelist widely acclaimed as a landmark feminist even if she never identified as one. It is the screen debut of Emmanuelle Riva, who was nominated for a 2012 Oscar for her harrowing performance in “Amour.” But because I thought streaming this classic on a small screen would be like eating caviar on a hamburger bun, I stayed away. Now, fifty-five years after its initial release, Rialto Pictures has acquired the U.S. distribution rights. It turns out seeing “Hiroshima Mon Amour” on a big screen is a revelation worth the wait.

It begins with two voices murmuring over images of the aftermath of the Hiroshima atomic bombings. The female describes what she remembers of the disaster; the male denies her reality: You saw nothing in Hiroshima. Nothing. Because we are seeing images that support her memories, we are inclined to believe her, especially as the photographs of burnt, mutilated bodies, buildings, and fields are intercut with close-ups of two naked bodies, artfully arranged, artfully entwined. It seems obvious, or at least predictable: The woman’s reality is being undercut by her domineering male lover. As the two continue their back-and-forth – I saw this/ No, you did not – we begin to be lulled by the rhythm of conversation and imagery, as horrific as some of it is. Continue Reading →

A Female King in Hollywood

October 14, 2014 in Book Matters, Feminist Matters, Film Matters

We denizens of the 21st century sometimes forget history isn’t as linear as chronological time – at least in terms of the progression of civil rights. We tend to believe, for example, that women have it better now than ever before. Certainly we assume females wield more political clout in this day and age. After all, just look at Hillary Clinton or Elizabeth Warren or, um, Sarah Palin. Right?

Wrong. The most radically powerful female leader to date may be a woman who ruled Egypt more than 3,000 years ago with very little fanfare and less ill happenstance. I’m not talking about Cleopatra, whose reign was as troubled as it is fabled. (Mostly she used her great sexuality in an ill-fated attempt to save her country from mass servitude.) I’m talking about Hatshepsut, who ruled Egypt for twenty years (practically a millennium in 1500 century BC) and who went so far as to refer to herself as a “female king” rather than a queen, which then connoted the head wife of a male pharaoh.

Hatshepsut is widely accepted to have led her nation into its most prosperous and peaceful era. Yet this is not a woman we learn about in school. Frankly, were it not for Egyptologist Kara Cooney’s new biography, The Woman Who Would Be King: Hatshepsut’s Rise to Power in Ancient Egypt, I still would not have heard of her. “Hatshepsut has the misfortune to be antiquity’s female leader who did everything right, which may be what dooms her to obscurity,” writes Cooney, who goes on to suggest history prefers to emphasize women who mishandled their power. In other words, is it any surprise that we hear about Cleopatra rather than Hatshepsut?

It’s time to rectify this glaring omission. Arguably, history is backsliding again – reproductive rights are being repealed; young female activists have been forced to reinitiate an anti-date rape movement; and the nation seems collectively confused about the very definition of “feminism.” A big Hollywood biopic about a charismatic female leader – a woman of color, no less – could put things in perspective. The good news is that, despite the fact that history hasn’t been interested in Hatshepsut, she is very interesting, with all the makings of a timeless yet terrifically relevant epic. In fact, the biggest challenge of an adaptation of The Woman Who Would Be King wouldn’t be jazzing up this story for modern consumption. It’d be sidestepping an NC-17 rating, and finding a contemporary woman with enough grandeur to do justice to this overlooked pioneer.

Consider the possible movie treatment. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy