For their 2014 summer calendar, the Cinematheque has divided their programming very simply: films that play at the Chazen and films that don’t. (Or, if you’d like, films co-presented by WUD Film and films that aren’t)
There’s nothing wrong with this binary schedule, a schedule that kicks off tonight at 7:00p with They Live at the Chazen Art Museum. This weekend’s opening lineup however, presents another way of thinking about the FREE films Cinematheque is playing in Madison this summer.
Thursday: They Live and cult favorites
John Carpenter’s They Live is very much a throwback — and not just in the retro 80s cool of star (and WWE Hall of Famer) “Rowdy” Roddy Piper. Its kooky premise is bonkers even for the post-WWII science fiction Carpenter riffs on: Piper’s vagrant construction worker accidentally uncovers a hidden alien agenda to brainwash humans through media, advertising, and arbitrary consumerism. That Piper’s discovery arrives with the donning of a pair of sunglasses is both outlandish and in keeping with his “stay cool” anonymity.
They Live knows how absurd it is (to borrow from my colleague Jake Smith, it’s “anything but delicate”) but Carpenter’s metaphors aren’t without a visceral edge. The true forms of Los Angeles’ suit-wearing cronies and wealthy elites are strikingly macabre, with lidless eyes and fleshy sinews hiding beneath their human complexions. And for a slow burn, it can be a brutally violent crawl, with Piper and co-star Keith David’s tussle (rightfully) famous for its absurdly comical length.
The fun is just beginning, too, as that same kind of raw, crude mixture is found in later summer selections like Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (Aug. 1) and This is Spinal Tap (Aug. 8). I would even argue the Bottle Rocket half of the Wes Anderson double-feature (July 25) holds more water as a proto-film of “what could’ve been” in Anderson’s career, a kind of voyeurism for cinephiles in the same way the recently resurfaced Corn’s-a-Poppin‘ might inform fans of Robert Altman. In their inherent “other-ness” within the film canon, these B-movies inform and broaden our understanding by virtue of their standing out.
Friday: Smile and the overlooked gem
Starring Barbara Feldon and Bruce Dern as organizers of the “Young American Miss” beauty pageant, Smile skewers beauty contests for the Catch-22 that they are. Contestants’ various “talents” range from dour poetry recitations and off-key saxophone solos to a melodramatic baton routine complete with ribald patriotism and sparklers. Smile presents the absurdity of each with sharp cuts, often (mercilessly) cutting away before things get really ugly. But each unfortunate showcase is trussed up by Dern’s Bob Freelander as something more legitimate than it rightfully should be, and an attempt by Annette O’Toole’s Doria to break the mold is politely shamed into silence. Bruce Dern’s knowing half-grin, which is only wiped away in a final moment, suggests he’s aware this is all bullshit; you’d best not mention that to anyone, though.
Michael Ritchie’s trenchant satire of beauty pageantry isn’t uproariously funny. Its humor is dry, even compared to the sandiest of British comedies (though I suspect it might play better for a packed house in The Marquee). But it is a film I’d never known was by the same director of Fletch and Bad News Bears.
And that’s what it’s all about. If not in its cast, Smile retains an ensemble quality by hopping between contestant and director, choreographer and peeping Tom. As a kind of proto-Little Miss Sunshine, the broad scope and forward momentum as pageant week winds up for the big night make for a comedy that while not outrageous, is, as Cinematheque claims, a “classic piece of Americana” and one not immediately recognizable.
It’s in line with Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven (June 27) and the late Robert Hamer’s Kind Hearts and Coronets (Aug. 9) — the latter of which features Sir Alec Guinness in a whopping eight different roles, encouraging audiences to see the actor outside of Jedi robes or colonel’s fatigues. 35mm resuscitations of Gold Diggers of 1933 (Aug. 7) and 1935’s Man on the Flying Trapeze (July 10) feel as close as possible to unearthing diamonds in the celluloidal rough.
Saturday: Nymphomaniac and bedding the arthouse
A large portion of my time on Arts Extract’s summer preview episode with the folks at Madison Film Forum was spent discussing the highs and lows of von Trier’s latest provocation. A lengthy dissection of one woman’s (Charlotte Gainsbourg) sexual awakenings and subsequent re-awakenings, Nymphomaniac wrestles with lofty ideas about God, nature, and philosophy with the promise of getting its hands extremely dirty.
While Nymphomaniac’s inclusion in the summer schedule presents issues both textual (part II flirts too much with contrivance) and logistical (over four hours of von Trier will exhaust nearly anyone), its mere existence in the schedule feels like a victory. Sure to thrill, confound, and shock what I hope will be a packed Marquee this Saturday, a double-dip on the Danish provocateur represents the international and art films that round out Cinematheque’s schedule. How else do you explain Alain Resnais’ Je t’aime je t’aime (July 24) or Jean Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast (June 26)? A redux of the originally-intended presentation of Tarkovsky’s Nostalghia (Aug. 2) will be something to behold. Oh, and if you allow yourself to miss Abbas Kiarostami’s Close-Up (July 17), you are a despicable human being.
Some of these arthouse selections aren’t immediately obvious or particularly reminiscent of summer (I’m looking at you, Rushmore), but that seems beside the point, especially when half of Cinematheque’s program is in conjunction with WUD Film. After all, we could use a lot more “sex biography at the Union” and a lot less “Shrek at the Terrace.” This weekend, the blueprint’s already there.
- Summer movies at the Chazen Museum and Union South Marquee begin this week with They Live (7:00p — Chazen Museum), Smile (7:00p — The Marquee), and Nymphomaniac Pts. I and II (7:00p + 9:30p — The Marquee). All films are FREE and open to the public.