I have been listening to the delightful comedy-true crime podcast My Favorite Murder. Karen Kilgariff and Georgia Hardstark had always had secret obsessions with stories of murder, which weirded people out. One day, they met at a party and characteristically mentioned some murder they'd heard about recently and then ended up in a corner chatting all night, thrilled to have found someone else to finally, willingly, talk to about murder. The tension is that they're funny and problematic, and they're always trying to figure those pieces out, right on the podcast itself. It's such lovely modeling of trying to reconcile that (a) it's okay to experience joy and at the same time recognize the terrible things that happen in life, to even be so scared of them you're fascinated, and (b) we all have work to do on ourselves, so when someone calls you out, own it, thank them, learn from it, and do better. I love it so much that it's the only podcast that I've listened to 100% of the episodes. The first year or so was great. There was always one to listen to... until one day, when I fully caught up. And didn't know what to do.
I had started listening to The Dollop, another now favorite podcast, frequently mentioned as My Favorite Murder was getting started. There, one comedian (Dave Anthony) tells a story from American history to another comedian (Gareth Reynolds), who has no idea what the story is. Some of the episodes are so funny that I have cried laughing while sitting alone on the El. But then, so much of American history is really unfunny. I really value this podcast as these stories are important to understand how our country got where it is and that so many of our most obvious mistakes have been forgotten and are at risk of being repeated... or are, in fact, being repeated right now. It's a brutally honest podcast where I either belly laugh or sit with my hand in my palm, struck with shame at the terrible things that have happened within our country and on this land. So, I can't listen to The Dollop every day. Some days I'm just too raw. It's the same tension I mentioned above: It's okay to experience joy and at the same time recognize the terrible things that have and continue to happen. As Brene Brown has said, it's important to experience joy because joy gives us something to fight for.
So then, I was left searching for some joy, something to build me up, give me energy to continue my work in this world that has experienced so much suffering. A student had told me about this podcast where the podcaster interviews people from big, successful ventures about how they got started, how they build their dreams, and all of the things that go along with it. But I couldn't remember what it was called. So I just searched on my podcast app and came across the podcast I thought he was talking about: How Did This Get Made. I played the first episode.
This was not at all the podcast he was talking about. How Did This Get Made is a podcast where three comedians watch a terrible movie and then ponder to each other, "Guys, how did this get made?" It's Paul Shear, June Diane Rapheal, and Jason Manzoukas. This was the not podcast I was looking for but it was 100% the podcast I needed. What's more joyful than laughing at the most unnecessary things in life? The things that cost millions of dollars, all in the name of capitalism or ego, and are now, finally bringing joy to people. Plus, there's the added joy of how much these people like each other, make each other laugh, and invite others to make them laugh as well. It's just so damn joyful.
So wait... Why did I just give you a history of my journey to being a podcast listener? Because, on How Did This Get made, Paul Shear talks about another podcast he started where he and his co-host watch movies from the AFI top 100 and talk about them. The only episode I've listened to was about ET, the first movie I saw in a theater. It was a good episode. I haven't started listening to the podcast in full yet as I've discovered a few others I've put into my rotation (Dear Sugar, Reveal, This American Life) and am feeling a bit maxed out at the moment, but it did inspire me to explore this list.
AFI conveniently has a little checklist, and I'd already seen 32 of the movies on the original list. On the updated list, I've seen 34. So regardless of the list, this leaves tons of films as options.
1 - Raging Bull (1980)1/6/19
I decided to watch the first film on the newer list that was streaming on one of the apps I already have. That was Raging Bull.
After watching quite a few testosteroney films from the 70's and 80's as I have been working on the Academy Award Best Film list (Rocky, The French Connection, and Annie Hall, I'm looking at you), I went into this one with some skepticism. The misogyny and toxic masculinity kicked off real quick. I had to focus on how good DeNiro was, already primed for this after watching The Deerhunter.
I then focused on how incredible the cinematography was for the time. The boxing scenes were so violent and emotional. The stakes seemed so high.
After focusing on the art of the acting and the craft, I came back to the story. I wondered if Jake really was the hero of the movie, if I was even supposed to like him. I kept thinking, this film is going to be one of those terrible troupes about how it's okay to forget about all of the abusiveness and violence because this guy is going to do something redeeming in the end, so it's okay to love him. But like... that's not where the film went. It was more about a guy who was so into himself that he wouldn't give up. But he didn't seem like a hero. He seemed lonely. And other people kept paying to keep his zig zagging career going. It was society who worshipped the violent bully. I'm still thinking about how our society continues to prop up mediocre white men, particularly those we pay just to tell us their stories, their stories about the amazing things they've done, rather than those who fight beyond themselves to make the world a better place.
A day later, I'm still sitting with the story, and I highly recommend this film.
2 - Some Like It Hot (1959)6/2/19
I've never watched Marilyn Monroe in a film and now that I have, I get it. She was amazing. She melted into the character even though she was her flirty, feminine, silly self the whole time. The only other notable part of the film for me was that they filmed at the Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego--even though they claimed it was Florida--where I've spent some nice afternoons. The rest of it was weird. Men dressing up as women to escape gangsters, sure. Women in an all-woman band not catching on, weird, mostly the flirty comments the men would make towards the women. Then, tricking Marilyn Monroe (Sugar Cane) by also pretending to be a millionaire and then she instantly forgives him for it? Hated it. But again, she was spectacular.
3 - Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
7/13/19
This film was so much more complicated and sweet than I could ever have imagined. I have always assumed this film would be a less technical version of so many bank robber movies I've seen before, more tommy guns than lasers, more car chases than rappelling down buildings. There was some of that, but the film was more about the people. All members of the gang were complicated, hurting, and angry at their world. Their violence was directed at the systems they blamed for their struggles. They didn't fit with society's expectations, from Bonnie's sass to Clyde's seeming asexualism to C.W.'s tattoo. I assumed the characters were going to be a co-dependent, narcissistic, foie aux deux. While there were moments of arrogance, their deviance was not simplified to "crazy." They only revolted against symbols of the system that had failed so many. When interacting with common people, they sometimes approached with playful threats, but their threatening nature quickly changed to intentional kindness, teasing about people joining them, accepting them, and then moving on without inflicting harm. They were robbing banks during the Depression, when banks, too, were failing. The thing that prevailed was the police force, which seems so salient today. I truly enjoyed this depiction of these historical characters and the lovely acting throughout. I resisted this one for so long, and the more of these older films I watch, the more I realize there has been brilliant talent throughout history, and while the effects may not be as spectacular, the stories and acting are plenty to hold up a beautiful, complicated film.
