By Govindini Murty. Each spring, the TCM Classic Film Festival arrives in Hollywood, sparking pleasant reflections on what it is for a film to be considered “a classic.” This year’s TCM Classic Film Festival, running from April 28th to May 1, 2016, promises to be as memorable as the last six. The festival will feature appearances by Italian cinema legend Gina Lollobrigida, French New Wave icon Anna Karina, classic Hollywood star Eva Marie Saint, the premiere of the restoration of Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid, a special live musical event of Carl Theodore Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc, and an opening night gala presentation of All the President’s Men.
I and many cinema fans will no doubt be hoping that Anna Karina will be persuaded to reprise her soulful appreciation of The Passion Joan of Arc at the festival, as memorably captured in Jean-Luc Godard’s Vivre sa Vie. There will also be premieres of the restored prints of Gregory Peck’s The Keys of the Kingdom and Jennifer Jones’ The Song of Bernadette, along with exhibitions of movie memorabilia in Club TCM in the Roosevelt Hotel’s Blossom Ballroom (the site of the first Academy Awards). These and other delights await cinema fans who make the trek to Hollywood Boulevard over the last weekend in April.
And this brings me to why it’s important to celebrate and remember the classics.
Whether it’s a classic play by Shakespeare, a classic epic by Lady Murasaki, a classic painting by Titian, or a classic piece of music by Tchaikovsky, we appreciate classic works because they are the foundation of what it is to be civilized.
This is no less true of classic films, whether they be Metropolis, Cleopatra, Mildred Pierce, Ninotchka, All About Eve, Lawrence of Arabia, The Searchers, 2001, The Seven Samurai, or Pather Panchali. All these works are the expressions of talented human beings and their personal experiences – and when such works reach an apex of artistry, they transcend time – they become “classic.” A classic work is not old – it is timeless.
And yet today, people are so caught up in the moment – so frantic to keep up with the accelerating pace of the digital age – that they routinely dismiss classic movies as being “out of touch” or not relevant to them. This couldn’t be more wrong. I think classic film is highly relevant – because any form of human expression that is excellent is relevant.
It’s odd that the more we store things in the expanded memory banks of our digital era – the more we forget. Vast quantities of data – including the digitized forms of countless classic movies, TV shows, radio dramas, musical works, paintings, photographs, works of literature, history, and science – are saved in the world’s online archives and are available to the public – and yet somehow, people are more ill-educated than ever. This is an interesting dichotomy. Why is this the case?
By Govindini Murty. Women have been the stars of many of our biggest sci-fi films recently – from Star Wars: The Force Awakens to The Hunger Games and Gravity. This has been a very welcome development – but we need more women behind the camera as creators of sci-fi, as well. We need the female equivalents of George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and James Cameron. But how do we do this, given the many obstacles in the way of women filmmakers?
There is an entire online industry of VFX-driven sci-fi shorts that are launching male filmmakers’ careers right now. If women are to direct and produce blockbuster sci-fi films, then we must also enter this arena of online sci-fi shorts.
I’d like to introduce you to my epic, women-led sci-fi short film UFO Diary, debuting today on Vimeo. UFO Diary is a sci-fi action-comedy about two Women’s Army Corps officers in WWII who fight off an alien invasion of Los Angeles. The film recreates a famous WWII air raid, is edited by Emmy Award-winner Mitch Danton, and features stunning VFX by artists from ILM, Weta Digital, and Digital Domain. UFO Diary was recently featured in the January issue of American Cinematographer.
UFO Diary is inspired by one of the most famous UFO incidents in history – the Great Los Angeles Air Raid of 1942. We’re releasing UFO Diary today to commemorate the upcoming anniversary of the Air Raid on February 25th.
In the early hours of February 25th, 1942, a mysterious, unidentified flying object appeared in the skies over Los Angeles. The Army fired a massive barrage of 1400 shells into the night sky – but nothing was shot down, and no wreckage was ever recovered. The incident was witnessed by over 100,000 Angelenos, but remains unexplained to this day.
Govindini Murty as Captain Diana Ravello in “UFO Diary.”
Making a film about the Great LA Air Raid was a colorful adventure in itself. In addition to producing UFO Diary, I also played the lead role of Captain Diana Ravello, a tough WAC captain and former Caltech rocket engineer. Playing Captain Diana involved me climbing over tanks and half-tracks, firing anti-aircraft guns in the middle of simulated WWII combat, getting my hearing blasted by machine-gun fire, and being swallowed up in massive dust clouds from tanks as I ran around a WWII-era fort. It was a great experience and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
During all this, I also collaborated on every aspect of the film – from story concept to cinematography to editing – with my filmmaking partner, Jason Apuzzo, the writer-director of UFO Diary. Jason is my husband and one of the most supportive people I know of women in film. We were united in wanting to make a WWII movie with women in the lead roles because we both wanted to tell a WWII story from a fresh perspective.
Producing UFO Diary also meant wrangling a cast of over one hundred WWII actors – including some pretty salty military vets (who were my favorites) – and hiring and supervising everyone on the crew, VFX, and post-production teams.
By Govindini Murty & Jason Apuzzo. What makes something a classic? It’s a question worth asking as Hollywood devotes ever more of its resources to remaking movies, TV shows, and comic books from the past as the majority of our movie content today. Not that we mind the odd sequel (we’re definitely looking forward to Spectre and Star Wars) – but 2015 will see an unprecedented number of sequels and remakes, including new installments in the Mad Max, Mission Impossible, Jurassic Park, Terminator, Avengers, and Fast and Furious franchises.
If you want a break and would like to see some movies that are truly unrepeatable and non-franchisable, we suggest you check out the upcoming 2015 TCM Classic Film Festival, returning to historic Hollywood from March 26th to March 29th, 2015. It’s a marvelous chance to see some of the world’s classic movies the way they were meant to be seen: on the big screen, and often with their original creators in attendance.
Shirley Jones and guests at the TCM Classic Film Festival.
The classic movies shown at the TCM Classic Film Festival are inspiring because they are the result of what can be called “first-order,” direct personal experience. They are not self-referential mash-ups of other people’s work, but are original art works created by some of the cinema’s greatest talents during Hollywood’s Golden Age. The festival is one of the last opportunities our generation will have to encounter first-hand some of Hollywood’s classic film artists – and it’s an opportunity to be very thankful for.
At the 2014 TCM Classic Film Festival, for example, we had the chance to attend the red carpet at the Chinese Theatre and chat with such Golden Age movie stars as Maureen O’Hara, Kim Novak, Tippi Hedren, Shirley Jones, Margaret O’Brien, and George Chakiris. Each of them was charming, gracious, and ready with a witty quip – though none had more quips than legendary funnyman Mel Brooks – who we saw being interviewed by Robert Osborne in the lobby of the Roosevelt Hotel. Continue reading On Being Inspired by Classic Movies at the TCM Classic Film Festival
It’s the kind of thing you probably missed over Thanksgiving dinner, while gnawing on a turkey leg, bickering with your uncle, or falling asleep during a Detroit Lions game: the Miami Marlins just signed an outfielder to a $325 million deal, the largest contract in sports history.
You read that correctly: $325 million. That’s Hunger Games money, Transformers money. It’s the kind of figure you associate with World Bank loans or Rolling Stone comeback tours. Apple needs at least a day to make that kind of cash.
The young outfielder, named Giancarlo Stanton – no, I hadn’t heard of him, either – apparently hit .288 with 37 home runs last season. (Note to Marlins: those were roughly my numbers playing T-ball in 5th grade.) Stanton later celebrated his deal in a Miami nightclub with a $20,000 bottle of champagne coated in 22-carat gold leaf. I don’t know whether he kept the bottle.
It says something about baseball today that a guy you’ve never heard of – again, he plays for the Marlins – can be signed for $25 million per year over 13 years. Frankly, it’s probably a bad deal for the Marlins – especially if the names Albert Pujols, Alex Rodriguez or Josh Hamilton ring a bell. Players paid more than they’re worth – more than some national economies are worth – rarely stay motivated purely by love of the game.
Love of the game. That’s what sports are supposed to be about, isn’t it?
When you think about love of the game, you think of Lou Gehrig – the Iron Horse – playing in 2,130 straight games until his body gave out from ALS. Or Pete Rose, aka Charlie Hustle, barreling over Ray Fosse in the 1970 All Star game to secure a seemingly meaningless win. Or Kirk Gibson, gamely limping around the bases after hitting his clutch home run in the 1988 World Series.
And you should also think of the Portland Mavericks, the subject of a wonderful new documentary called The Battered Bastards of Baseball that premiered this past year at Sundance and is currently showing on Netflix.
My writing partner Govindini Murty and I caught Battered Bastards at Sundance and also at this year’s Los Angeles Film Festival. At the Sundance screening we had the chance to speak to Kurt Russell, who’s interviewed in the film, along with his nephews Chapman Way and Maclain Way, Battered Bastards‘ co-directors.
LFM's Jason Apuzzo & Kurt Russell at Sundance 2014.
The Mavericks – an independent, Class A minor league baseball team between 1973-77 – were the brainchild of Bing Russell, the actor best known for playing deputy sheriff Clem on TV’s Bonanza. A hugely colorful showman with a fast wit (“I played Clem for 13 years on Bonanza and never solved a case”), Russell appeared in countless film and TV westerns, and made a career of getting killed on camera – most notably in Howard Hawks’ Rio Bravo and John Ford’s The Horse Soldiers.
Of course, Russell is best known today as the father of Kurt Russell, who himself played for the Mavericks in 1973.
As Battered Bastards relates, Bing served as a bat boy for the mighty New York Yankees between 1936-41, when he got to know legends of the game like Joe DiMaggio, Lefty Gomez and Lou Gehrig (who gave young Bing his bat after hitting the final home run of his storied career). Although Bing later tried his hand at pro baseball, an injury cut short his career – leading him to try an acting career in Hollywood.
His love of baseball never left him, however – so when his acting career stalled in the early 1970s, Russell jumped at the opportunity to bring pro baseball to Portland in 1973 after the prior team left town.
“Baseball was a big part of our family,” Maclain Way told us. “Kurt, our uncle, played professional baseball. Bing, himself, played professional baseball. We had cousins who played major league baseball, so baseball was a huge part of our life growing up. I played baseball in high school because of Bing – he taught me how to play.”
The upstart Mavericks would become a team like no one had seen before – totally unaffiliated with any big league franchise, and filled to the brim with misfits and rejects – a scrappy, real life Bad News Bears squad.
“He had a great eye for ball players,” Kurt Russell told us, speaking warmly of his father. “We knew we could put a competitive team together.”
Kurt Russell & LFM's Govindini Murty at Sundance 2014.
Managed by restaurant owner Frank “The Flake” Peters, the Mavericks’ roster of wild characters would include: a shaggy, 33 year-old high school English teacher named Larry Colton (who’d later be nominated for a Pulitzer Prize); 38 year-old ex-Yankee Jim “Bulldog” Bouton (who’d been blackballed from baseball after writing a wild tell-all memoir); Joe Garza (aka “JoGarza”), a madman utility player who waved flaming brooms when the Mavericks swept opposing teams; Rob Nelson, who invented Big League Chew bubble gum in the Mavericks’ bullpen; star outfielder Reggie Thomas, who took a limo to games even though he lived only a block from the stadium; and fiery batboy Todd Field, who once got tossed from a game, and later became an Academy Award-nominated writer-director.
And, of course, there was Kurt Russell. “I got injured [playing minor league baseball in Texas], so I had the opportunity to go to Portland and help them get the ball club started,” Russell told us.
By Govindini Murty. We’re told that in our digital future music will be created by computer algorithms. But could an algorithm make music anywhere near as weird and wonderful as Frank? Frank is the titular character of Lenny Abrahamson’s touching and funny new black-comedy Frank, an ode to the irreplaceable nature of quirky, individual human creativity.
Coming out on DVD/Blu-ray December 9th, Frank premiered at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year to rave reviews. The movie is inspired by the true story of Chris Sievey, a British musician and comedian who performed wearing a large paper-mâché head under the pseudonym Frank Sidebottom.
If you’re seeking a cinematic antidote to our flattened-out, Big Data, crowd-sourced, mass conformist digital age, then take the time to see Frank. Frank is a paean to true creativity – the kind of creativity that can only come from an individual.
Frank stars Michael Fassbender as the eponymous musician – a mysterious, wildly talented singer-songwriter who wears a large paper-mâché head over his face at all times. Frank is supported in his musical efforts by a medley of eccentric band mates; these include nerdy keyboardist Jon (Domhnall Gleeson), surly theremin player Clara (Maggie Gyllenhaal), and troubled band manager Don (Scoot McNairy).
From "Frank."
The story is told from the point of view of Jon (Domhnall Gleeson), a would-be keyboardist and song-writer who spends his days searching for poetic inspiration in his quiet seaside town, while posting random updates on social media about what sandwiches he’s eaten, his humdrum home life, and so forth.
One day while staring blankly out at the ocean, Jon witnesses a man being rescued from an attempted drowning. It turns out the man is the keyboardist for an avant-garde band with the unpronounceable name of “The Soronprfbs.” Jon meets the band’s manager Don (Scoot McNairy) and is invited to play with the band that night.
Jon is enthralled by the chaotic creativity of the band – so different from his own dull existence- and in particular by the manic, oddly compelling performance of Frank, a figure wearing a large, round head with blank, staring eyes and a goofy, painted-on smile. Jon seems to make the right impression on Frank, and so Frank invites Jon to join the band at a remote country house in Ireland to record their next album.
Jon is over the moon with joy, convinced that being in close proximity to musical genius will finally unleash his own creativity. However he soon learns that the other band members are suspicious of him – especially Clara – because they think that he’s a mediocrity only out to exploit Frank’s talent.
[Editor’s note: the post below appeared this weekend at The Huffington Post.]
By Govindini Murty & Jason Apuzzo. Do you feel like you’re turning into a different person over the holidays? How about your fellow citizens – do they appear to be morphing into unrecognizable automata? The holidays can do that to you – especially in Los Angeles. It’s a time when people get consumed with travel schedules, holiday parties, frenzied “gifting,” and trying to keep up with the Kardashians – and forget to act like real human beings.
Just this past week we saw a grown man bark at a Starbucks barista because his eggnog latte wasn’t hot enough, soccer moms body-check each other grabbing at Target discount wreaths, and senior citizens hydroplane in a Mercedes while trying to grab a parking spot at a rainy mall.
Fellow citizens, enough is enough. Get some perspective – before you become ersatz human beings even your nearest and dearest wouldn’t recognize.
This is where indie cinema can offer some timely lessons on the perils of modern dehumanization. One of our favorite films at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year was The Double, starring Jesse Eisenberg and written and directed by Richard Ayoade. Currently out on DVD and VOD, the film is one of the smartest adaptations yet of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Double, the seminal novella of modern alienation.
Jesse Eisenberg plays Simon James, a meek office drone toiling away in a retro-futuristic dystopia of grimy office buildings and gray apartment flats. The bleak settings owe much to Terry Gilliam’s Brazil and George Orwell’s 1984, while Simon’s character recalls Anthony Perkins’ persecuted office worker in Orson Welles’ adaptation of Kafka’s The Trial.
From "The Double."
The hapless, ineffectual Simon loves a fellow office worker, Hannah (Mia Wasikowska), but he is completely unable to assert himself with her or with his co-workers – indeed, at times he is barely able to make it out of the office elevator. For this he is treated as if he is of little more consequence than the paint on the dingy office walls.
A wrench is thrown in the works one day when Simon is introduced to a new co-worker: a fellow named James Simon (also played by Eisenberg) who strangely enough, looks exactly like him. In personality, however, James is the opposite of Simon – smooth, assertive, full of charm and slick maneuvering. In short order, James takes credit for Simon’s work, double-crosses him with his boss, and starts putting moves on the lovely Hannah before Simon’s horrified eyes.
