Selected Scenes: Thief

A spoiler-heavy single-scene film analysis & review.


Are there directors you are familiar with who you think you know everything about? You swear you’ve seen ALL their movies, you understand their technique, and when a new movie of theirs’ comes out you recognize their trademarks & make sure all your friends know them too? “That’s why you’ll always find me in the kitchen at parties.” I’m like that with Paul Thomas Anderson, and Michael Mann, apparently. When I first started writing this “Selected Scenes”, I had intended it to be a “Jay’s Take”: I was convinced I knew enough about Mann’s filmography that I was qualified to write a lengthy, in-depth review, as opposed to a quick discussion (since it isn’t like the film doesn’t have a Criterion edition that includes a wealth of supplemental material of more qualified people saying the exact same things… right?). Yes, I have seen a handful of Mann’s movies: some more than once. But to think I am an expert is a fool’s errand: I haven’t seen “Ali” or “Collateral”, nor “The Last of the Mohicans”, or 2015’s career-ending box office dud “Blackhat” (and you think I WOULD have seen that, just to know what the fuss was about). Did you know there’s a Michael Mann horror movie about Nazis and the occult, called “The Keep”? I didn’t, and it sounds awesome! Although, in a way, I know it will also be incredibly disappointing. That’s where I’m at from what I HAVE seen of his, and “Thief” – although it is early Mann, man – follows this methodology to a tee. Even with the seeds of doubt, I still think I know more about Michael Mann’s movies than I platonically should, and I think you’ll find out that you do too.

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love song

A poem about a country crush.


why would you want me?

there’s lots of boys like me in the city,
with my hair and my ambiguous tattoos –
a flair,
in an otherwise-mediocre affair.

“oh but i do, i do!” she cries
while we lay side-by-side,
“there is only one you!”
here, maybe –
now –
but where will your pristine heart really dare you to tread?
tomorrow? a year from now?
enough time to build a family –
a life,
only to have it torn from your grasp for spite

because i am one of a million
and you’re just a country girl.
one day you will wake up
and i still won’t be good enough for you.

//jf 6.16.2021


Photo by Rafael Barros on Pexels.com

Selected Scenes: Bad Lieutenant

A spoiler-free single-scene film review & analysis.


Do you ever have a bad day on the road? Sometimes, I get a kick out of pretending that asshole who just cut me off has a life far worse than mine (even though they drive a shiny Escalade with a bumper-sticker that says “My Other Whale Is My Boat”).

Par-example: today at 3 PM, near a school, my wife and I are trying to get out of our Chinese-reflexology foot massage clinic’s underground parking (or CRFMCUP). My wife was driving, and – men, let’s commiserate here – she’s not the best driver. Truth-be-told we’ve never been in an accident, but I sometimes fear for my life just the same. Now picture a four-way traffic stop, and we’re trying to turn left. Everyone driving straight is coming from the Middle School, and left is bumper-to-bumper because of construction two blocks down. My wife pulls into the middle of the intersection – not letting anyone turn right – only to be denied access to the last spot before the light at the end of the gridlock from some person & their kid in a pick-up. We pull in behind him & stick-out ass-end just as the light changes and we start moving again. It doesn’t sound so bad describing it – considering it took all-of five-whole-seconds out of my day – but I assure you that I was on Death’s door.

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wrecked

A poem about a beauty with an ugly heart.


i saw a monster today.

walking among us –
her profile in view,
she confronted me like divinity –

a crack split down the center of her dark-skinned face

and all the blood came rushing back,
scarred by time –
dreamless.
a body to take you there
but eyes that bring you back.

i am urged to ignore her
so i leave her alone,
trying to escape the power she casts
when she stares back at me half-mast.

//jf 6.2.2021


Photo by Matt Hardy on Pexels.com

shellfish

A poem.


what do you mean i don’t come on anyone’s authority?
you Sir catechize in impossibilities!
a list of people who know me,
systematically,
who would speak efficaciously
re: me?
preposterousity!
while alternately, you could accept me at the length of my extended goatee.

lengthy exhale
but if we must to win your trust,
then let us descend into the chancery,
unpedantically –

mind the leads,

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