Weir/Pakula/Von Trier/Hardin

Films:

Gallipolli (Peter Weir, 1981)

Weir makes tripe, but a special kind of tripe that’s recognized by some as mysterious or distinctive. To me, the guy’s incapable of locating anything of interest in his material—I was thinking about looking up whether he had a hand in his screenplays, before realizing I didn’t give a shit. Hearing peers talk about the film’s portrayal of the depth of “mateship” was a particularly bitter laugh: it’s as if they actually believe Australians were born with some neurological mechanism that allows men to, y’know, just be closer with each other than we yanks could ever manage.

All the President’s Men (Alan J. Pakula, 1976)

A good rejoinder to any who claim that recreating reality results in dramatic inertia, and a tightrope act of dramatic tension, eschewing the lapses into convention of Klute for investigational rigor. The journalists are a little insecure, a little inarticulate, a little sadistic, but they’re also different: Redford is sincere (to a fault), and Hoffman is conniving (to a fault). One is never sure whether to want them to stop hounding witnesses, or root for something explosive: both ends are kept so hushed and omnipresent.

Dancer in the Dark (Lars von Trier, 2000)

Bipolar cinema. I’d seen this before, several times, so as I tried to explain my problems with it to a professor with an uber-placid facial expression, it was painful in an I’m-vicariously-disillusioning-my-14-year-old-self type of way. But I did enjoy the unenjoyability of the experience of watching it. (It’s complicated, but the sensation of boredom is actually kind of therapeutic at the moment.) Strangest of all to think that I once found Bjork attractive. Or did I? I probably did.

Song:

"It'll Never Happen Again" (Tim Hardin)

Wouldn't feel out of place on After the Gold Rush. And AtGR is one of my favorite albums--Hardin is no Young c. 1970, for me, but his best work is on that level. Other faves: "Reason to Believe," "Black Sheep Boy."