This sort of inchoate desire, or desire that doesn’t have an object, is interesting to me, because I think it’s so much a dimension of what it is to be an ambitious woman. Because, for every other moment in human history, [that ambition] had nowhere to go… I knew I could not do the ending [of LITTLE WOMEN] just as the book did—especially because LouisaMay Alcott didn’t really want to end it that way… and if we can’t give her an ending she would like, 150 years later, then what have we done? We’ve made no progress. — Greta Gerwig
Gerwig’s LITTLE WOMEN—a complete artistic success and Noah Baumbach’s favorite film of the year—is here.
On January 3, Gerwig, Saoirse Ronan, and the American Cinematheque present a double-feature screening of LITTLEWOMEN and LADY BIRD at the Egyptian Theatre, with a between-film conversation.
This is the Age of Bong Joon-ho. The director of The Host (2006), Mother (2009), Snowpiercer (2013), and Okja (2017) was delighted to hear that a critic recently declared “Bong Joon-ho” not just a filmmaker but a genre unto itself.
Ahead of the release of his latest masterpiece PARASITE—a perfect marriage of the art film and the popcorn movie which won the 2019 Festival de Cannes Palme d’or—Bong has asked that reviewers not reveal any of the film’s significant details. So avoid Amy Taubin’s cover story in the current issue of Film Comment until after you’ve seen the film.
It’s safe to say that PARASITE is a comedic, politically astute twist on the upstairs-downstairs tale, wherein members of a resourceful family from Seoul’s lower depths—Song Kang-ho (who plays the father), Chang Hyae-jin (mother), Park So-dam (daughter), and Choi Woo-shik (son)—manage to insinuate themselves, to transformative effect, into the upper-class home of Mr. and Mrs. Park (Lee Sun-kyun and Cho Yeo-jeong).
Bong will be on hand at both the Arclight Hollywood and The Landmark throughout opening weekend for post-screening Q & A’s, and will return on October 30 for an AmericanCinematheque presentation.
BONG JOON-HO IN PERSON
Saturday, October 12, following the 7:30 pm and 8 pm shows.
PAIN AND GLORY—joining Law of Desire (1987) and Bad Education (2004) to complete Pedro Almodóvar’s autobiographical trilogy—is here.
Cinema is probably the most important experience of my life. The characters in my films always go to the movies, talk about cinema, and explain themselves through films they’ve seen. In the case of PAIN AND GLORY, they also make films for a living.
My life has indirectly found its way into every picture I’ve made, but PAIN AND GLORY is the most representative of me. I have deposited in it everything that I own: my furniture, my paintings, my clothes, my intimacy, a few ghosts, my childhood memories, and my need to carry on making films as my only way of life.
It isn’t an autobiographical film as such, everything is mixed up with fiction. The character nailed by Antonio Banderas is an extension of myself. From the time I started writing the script (and remembering Federico Fellini had already made a monumental film—8 1/2—about a director going through a crisis), I considered Antonio to be my rightful Marcello Mastroianni. This movie would not have been possible without his delicate, emotional, and intense performance. He never tried to imitate me, but many people have told me that there’s a moment in which they no longer see Antonio, but myself. I believe that this is the most flattering thing that one can say about the extraordinary performance of my friend Antonio.
This film is about many things, including my love for cinema. I discovered cinema at open-air screenings during the summer in my hometown. Films were projected onto a whitewashed wall in the main square, and we boys would take a pee by both sides of the wall when we felt like urinating. That’s why the films from my early years smell of wee, of jasmine, and of a summer breeze. My wish is that the white screen never disappears from our lives. — Pedro Almodóvar
After a recent Film Independent Presents screening of AFTER THE WEDDING, Julianne Moore said something that revealed a uniquely generous approach to acting:
What I love about what we do is, regardless of age or experience, we all meet as peers. It doesn’t happen in a lot of professions, but it happens with acting.
In her new drama, the great accomplishment of Moore and two of her remarkable peers—MichelleWilliams and Abby Quinn—is delivering memorable performances in the service of a schematic script about privilege and legacy among the one-percenters.
Moore plays Theresa, a nouveau-riche start-up billionaire ready to cash out. One of the loose ends that needs tying up is Isabel (Williams), an American-in-India who helps run an underserved aid facility for thousands of Calcutta street kids. Theresa would like to donate a very large sum to the program and—just before the Hamptons wedding of her daughter (Quinn)—Theresa summons Isabel to Manhattan for a meeting. Since she’s in town, Isabel also attends the wedding, where she meets Oscar (Billy Crudup), Theresa’s husband.
This comes as a shock to Isabel, since the last time she saw Oscar was twenty years ago, when they were both in their late teens…
AFTER THE WEDDING is Moore’s fourth feature collaboration with her husband, writer and director Bart Freundlich.
After the Wedding, from top: Michelle Williams (left), Billy Crudup, and Julianne Moore; VirPachisia and Williams; Film Independent Artistic Director Jacqueline Lyanga (left), Moore, Abby Quinn, and Bart Freundlich, July 30, 2019, The Landmark cinema, photograph by Araya Diaz, courtesy of Getty Images and Film Independent; Williams and Moore; Quinn and Williams; Williams. Film images courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics.
He was central to the Laurel Canyon scene of the 1960s, created some of the most resonant music of his era, fell in love with Joni Mitchell, became addicted to heroin and cocaine, and—after a weapons and drug conviction—became a fugitive from the law.
But it wasn’t until after his eventual arrest, getting clean in prison, and restarting his musical life with old bandmates that David Crosby managed to alienate every important person he made music with—Roger McGuinn (The Byrds), Stephen Stills, Graham Nash, and Neil Young.
Such is the intractable nature of the subject of the essential new documentary DAVID CROSBY—REMEMBER MY NAME, directed by A. J. Eaton and produced by Cameron Crowe, who has known Crosby since Crowe was a teenage reporter for Rolling Stone. In Eaton’s film, Crosby praises the artist “who was the best of all of us”:
“When [Joni] found she was going over people’s heads, she went further.”
But no one is harder on Crosby than Crosby himself:
“I was a difficult cat. Big ego, no brains… What you do to yourself isn’t really a moral thing. But what you do to others? That counts… Were those girls addicted? Yes. And I addicted them.”
But there is another sticking point:
“I have to tour to buy groceries and pay the mortgage…. I’m under some pressure. I’m the only member of CSN&Y who’s never had a [solo] hit.”
A fitting companion piece to Martin Scorsese’s new Bob Dylan doc Rolling Thunder Revue—in REMEMBER MY NAME, Crosby claims it was The Byrds’ cover of “Mr. Tambourine Man” that inspired Dylan to go electric—what echoes up and down the canyon are the sounds of a lost sixties dream:
” ‘Ohio’ was the best job of being troubadours or town criers we ever did… Belief is good. It didn’t work out. Yet. But we’re trying.” — David Crosby
At the Film Independent Presents screening this week in Hollywood, Crowe characterized the film as “notes from the eye of the hurricane” which ends “on a precipice, where CSN&Y don’t reconcile.” On Sunday afternoon, Eaton and Crowe will return to the ArcLight and join DavidCrosby for a post-screening Q & A.