The next four months are to be the most intensely self-conscious, galvanizing, awkward, crazed, humiliating, uplifting, maudlin and surreal period in American racial history. A black man will or will not be chosen as the next President of the United States. My fingers tremble as I type this. As a black-and-white racial spectacle, this is bigger than black Jack Johnson casually beating the living shit out of white Jim Jeffries before all of Anglo-America in 1910. This is bigger than Bigger Thomas. This is bigger than Joe Louis, Jackie Robinson, Paul Robeson, the Edmund Pettis Bridge, Emmet Till, the March on Washington, OJ, Rodney King, Willie Horton, Jeremiah Wright, the riots, the assassinations, the aggregate of four centuries of two races trading hostilities while building up this nation. This is it. A partial descendant of slaves* takes the helm of the American Empire. Or not: Maybe McCain plays into enough fears and received notions to convince his base and those volition-less swing voters that we can have morning in America once more.
Those geniuses at Criterion Collection have anticipated the moment andplan to give it something special. Their new high-definition restoration of Sam Fuller’s White Dog is due on DVD in December, just when all hell should be breaking loose. Fuller’s 1982 adaptation of the Romain Gary novel about a dog trained to attack and kill black people is a nightmare of the Reagan Era. Told with the broad earnestness of a sweeps week Diff’rent Strokes episode, White Dog is easy to dismiss as Public Service Announcement on hate crimes. Ennio Morricone’s somber score captures the heartbreak of racism but also emphasizes the movie’s cuddly, Benji-esque sentimentality. The presence of aging teen starlet Kristy McNichol as the dog’s unsuspecting Hollywood-liberal owner is also good for a snicker to anyone over 30.
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The Democratic National Convention is over, and all the ecstatic party members have left Denver to go back to their zombie-esque lives (Bob Hope said it, not me). But after four days of celebrating what it means to be a Democrat, some may not wish to settle down and calmly wait out the next two months until Obama’s (possible) win, let alone the next five months waiting for the candidate to (possibly) be sworn in as President, participating in the normal non-specifically-Democratic, non-self-congratulatory activities that most of us are content with.
So, one thing excited Democrats can do is watch movies that will continue to inspire and encourage their beliefs and politics. As Karina already wrote, The American President is one movie that just barely may allow Obama fans to relive his DNC speech. Also, beginning yesterday, the Oscar-nominated documentary No End in Sight will be available in full on YouTube through till Election Day. Of course, there’s always other anti-war and anti-Bush docs for free viewing online, at such sites as SnagFilms and FreeDocumentaries.org.
And since there are so many docs out there that can make a Democrat giddy with the want for change, I’ve decided to limit today’s list to fictions and dramatizations, because they are more about feelings than facts, and that’s all you really need for political inspiration these days. As usual, I’m leaving out a lot of picks, both obvious and obscure, so feel free to tell us what movie make you feel most proud to be a Democrat.
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This may qualify as hyperbole, but Richard Schickel’s You Must Remember This––which premiered at Cannes in May, screened here at Telluride as part of a tribute to Schickel and will debut on PBS in slightly different form this fall––is maybe the most appropriately titled made-for-TV Classical Hollywood documentary directed by a working film critic I’ve seen this year.
“You must remember this,” is, of course, a lyric from “As Time Goes By,” the signature song from Warner Brothers’ Casablanca. From the opening montage of a tour through the WB backlot, set to a soundtrack of memorable lines from maybe a dozen and a half classic productions from that studio, Schickel’s film is devoted to anecdotal recall of Warner Brothers’ various signatures, from experts and witnesses who are dishy and not uncritical, but still often as sentimemtal as the song that Rick commands Sam to play again. From silent doggie star Rin Tin Tin (who, snarked writer and eventual head of production Daryl Zanuck, had the biggest brain on the lot) to the Busby Berkeley musicals that not so subtly told the viewer that “Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler are gonna get laid, and we’re all part of it,” to the social issue films of the 30s which carried “a vision of the world that was darker, more cynical, and more problematic than any other studio’s,” Schickel finds a surprisingly rich balance between behind-the-scenes trivia and multi-layered criticism. Access to talking heads including Molly Haskell, Neal Gabler, Jeaninne Basinger and former WB contract player Ronald Reagan certainly helps with the gravitas.
Also surprising was the slightly salty candor that ran through Schickel’s Special Medallion acceptance chat, which both the honoree and the audience seemed to find too brief. Still, Schickel managed to get out som zingers involving Manny Farber, Pauline Kael, the youth of America and John McCain. Some highlights after the jump.
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Leave it to George Clooney to make a football movie that actually looks good to people like me. And by people like me, I mean people with no interest in American football whatsoever (I attend Super Bowl parties exclusively for the 7-layer dip). Yahoo! is hosting the trailer for Leatherheads, Clooney’s much-anticipated directorial follow-up to Good Night, and Good Luck, and the romantic sports comedy looks like the most appealing football flick — particularly for women and also guys like me — ever produced.
Part of the appeal for me, though, is those old uniforms, which bring me back (cinematicaly — I’m not that old) to the football fields of Horse Feathers, Harold Lloyd’s The Freshman and that famous still of Ronald Reagan from Knute Rockne All American. Then, of course, there’s the appeal of Clooney in old-timey clothes, ala O Brother Where Art Thou? Considering how much Clooney resembles Cary Grant in both appearance and acting style, it’s no wonder that I prefer him in stories that take him back to periods in which Grant was a big star. Okay, so Leatherheads is actually set in the 1920s, before Grant and his silly accent made it to the big screen, but I’m willing to ignore that little historical inaccuracy (just as the Coen Bros. ignored a lot of historical fact with O Brother). Had sound films come about earlier than they had, Cary Grant could have been wooed by Hollywood much sooner than he was.
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