“Coyness is nice,
and coyness can stop you
From saying all the things in life you’d like to,
So if there’s something you’d like to try…
Ask me, I won’t say no, how could I?
Because if it’s not love,
then it’s the bomb that will bring us together.”
– “Ask” by Morrissey & The Smiths
[cont’d]
To paraphrase Tarantino, a movie that successfully uses a piece of music, owns that music. Likewise, 1981’s docudrama “Mommie Dearest” (or MD) belongs to its lead actress, Faye Dunaway.
Audiences are fickle. As a broad example (pun not intended), Sydney Sweeney is objectively attractive, but sometimes we need to be reminded that her place in history – as a babe – will only occupy a small space: one inhabited by the ghosts of celebrity babes past, like Farrah Fawcett or Marilyn Monroe.
Same goes for legendary performances: they only become discourse if viewers put the proverbial poster on their wall. As much as I admire Dunaway, there’s only a handful of movies out of her six-decade career I can definitively name – most from one era.
[cont’d]
There are few things more comforting to a cinephile than Robert De Niro calling someone an expletive & unloading an entire pistol clip into them.
It’s unwholesome, but this has been his playground for decades. The Alto Knights is an impassioned throwback to the Scorsese/De Niro collaborations of old, but lacks the oomph of those masterpieces.
GQ’s 2006 interview with Bob is required reading for anyone wanting an encapsulation of the stubborn actor. I’m not here to rag on De Niro: he’s had many legendary performances over his long career. But like any artist (*cough* senior), he’s set in his ways, rejects change, and becomes crotchety when he feels disrespected.
Now an octogenarian, Bob can’t just go back & retroactively change his De Niro-isms, no matter how much digital technology de-ages him (like in Scorsese’s The Irishman). Now forced into ‘grandpa’ roles that he may or may-not feel are beneath him (being a new dad at 81 certainly increases that obligation), audiences know exactly what to expect.
[cont’d]
The following post contains language
that could be triggering.
If one tries to explain why they consider the ‘fall of the Roman Empire’ docudrama Caligula great, civilians won’t get it.
Then you show it to them, and not only will they still not get it, they are unlikely to speak with you again. Caligula is an ugly movie, in technique; aesthetic; and content combined (this is the Theatrical Version I’m talking about, presently).
[cont’d]
I haven’t been fortunate enough to watch Alex Cox’s other populist films Sid & Nancy and Repo Man, but if Walker is anything to go by then I should be adding them to my list. He’s fallen off the radar since this – his last major studio production – but similar to other cinematic artists like Richard Stanley and Richard Rush who Hollywood execs refuse to work with (since some of us have integrity beyond a paycheck) they never really went away. Stanley just released his Lovecraft adaptation Color Out of Space; Rush is old AF but still working as a film professor (and I liked Color of Night, but I also like Jane March); and Cox seems to be pumping out independently-financed features whenever he can get the money, in addition to teaching. It’s a twofer.
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