A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

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Showing posts with label Robert Holtzman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Holtzman. Show all posts

Sunday, August 9, 2020

The Watermelon Woman (Cheryl Dunye, 1996)

Cheryl Dunye and Valarie Walker in The Watermelon Woman
Cast: Cheryl Dunye, Guinevere Turner, Valarie Walker, Lisa Marie Bronson, Cheryl Clarke, Irene Dunye, Brian Freeman, Ira Jeffries, Alexandra Juhasz, Camille Paglia, Sarah Schulman, V.S. Brodie, Shelley Olivier, David Rakoff, Toshi Reagon, Christopher Ridenhour, Kat Robertson, Jocelyn Taylor. Screenplay: Cheryl Dunye, Doug McKeown. Cinematography: Michelle Crenshaw. Production design: Robert Holtzman. Film editing: Annie Taylor. Music: Paul Shapiro.

Fiction is often a surer way of getting to the truth than fact. Or as Cheryl Dunye puts it in a title card at the end: "Sometimes you have to create your own history. The Watermelon Woman is fiction." So by inventing a Black lesbian film actress of the 1930s, Fae Richards, known as "The Watermelon Woman," Dunye is able to capture some of the unwritten history of Black women who also happened to be lesbians in the era when to be Black, female, and lesbian was a kind of triple whammy. What sustains the film is the skill with which Dunye crafts her Watermelon Woman, an analog to the actresses like Louise Beavers, Hattie McDaniel, and Butterfly McQueen who found themselves stuck playing maids and mammies, upholders of the straight white norm, in motion pictures. Dunye manages to almost make us believe in the existence of Fae Richards, helped by photographer Zoe Leonard, who shot the stills and archival photographs that give the actress a reality she never really had. The Watermelon Woman could be too easily pigeonholed as a "niche film," one aimed at a Black audience or a lesbian audience or even an audience of film scholars who get the allusions to real actors (and directors such as Dorothy Arzner) in the movie. But it manages to transcend such reductive labeling. It's a film about marginalizing, misrepresentation, stereotyping, and all the common forms of willful ignorance of lives other than the ones we consider normative. That it's also often a very funny film doesn't hurt. I happen to think Dunye's movie falls apart toward the end, when it doesn't reach a logical or emotional climax, but that's not a fatal flaw for a movie of such penetrating intelligence.

Friday, July 27, 2018

Chasing Amy (Kevin Smith, 1997)

Ben Affleck and Joey Lauren Adams in Chasing Amy
Holden McNeil: Ben Affleck
Alyssa Jones: Joey Lauren Adams
Banky Edwards: Jason Lee
Jay: Jason Mewes
Silent Bob: Kevin Smith
Hooper X: Dwight Ewell

Director: Kevin Smith
Screenplay: Kevin Smith
Cinematography: David Klein
Production design: Robert Holtzman
Film editing: Scott Mosier, Kevin Smith
Music: David Pirner

The treatment of sexual identity in movies and on TV becomes a more sensitive topic every year, so it's nice to see that Kevin Smith's Chasing Amy hasn't dated as much in the past 20 years as it could have. Just hearing that the plot involves a love affair between a straight guy and a lesbian sets off all sorts of alarms about misconceptions of sexual orientation, including the old canard that the "right guy" (or woman) could "convert" someone to heterosexuality. Actually, even in 1997 that idea would have been derided and protested off the screen, but there is sometimes a sense in Chasing Amy that Smith is walking on eggshells. What we have instead is a thoughtful portrait of the complexities of youthful sexual experimentation along with a scathingly satiric one of the ways in which men misunderstand women, gay or straight. The penultimate scene in which Holden (a deliciously Salingerian choice of name) attempts to prove his bona fides to Alyssa is brilliantly, cringingly, painfully funny.