OUT: Reputation Era, IN: Criterion Era

No more villain eras, we're in our video era

Todd Field and Cate Blanchett in the Criterion Closet

When I said I was in my Criterion era, I meant it! “Villain eras” are out, and they’ve been adopted by every basic gay who thinks drinking iced coffee in the winter is a personality. (It’s not a personality, it’s just survival.)

I’ve kicked off this week by watching at least a movie a night, most of them on Criterion, because I’m attempting to shake myself out of my reality TV doldrums. At the onset of lockdown I was reading more, watching more films, and getting writing done. As the year dragged on, my brain malfunctioned to the point where I could only watch reality TV and Days of Our Lives.

This year’s resolution is to remind myself why I fell in love with art, with writing, in the first place. And while I have a wealth of pop culture knowledge that has sustained five years of Keep It so far, I’m looking to expand my tastes and cultural references and deepen my love of artists I already care about — case in point this week’s directors, Claire Denis and John Cassavetes.

I’ll admit that my first introduction to Denis was High Life, which I found difficult and messy in all the right ways. Once I saw Stars at Noon at the New York Film Festival, I became obsessed with her sense of space, her depiction of sensuality (she’s French, so duh), and how her characters feel so lived in and yet we rarely know anything about them prior to when the film starts. As RuPaul once said, “Nothing you say matters unless that camera is rolling.” The best dramatic works drop you in and let it ride, without all the exposition.

My first film of 2023 was Denis’ Beau travail, a 1999 film about the Foreign Legion, and an officer obsessed with destroying the life of one of his troops. Set in Djibouti, the cinematography is lush, every shot of the country makes Africa look so beautiful, so full. And the story itself, a slow burn as Denis is fond of, boils over in homoeroticism, toxic masculinity, and ends with one of the queerest moments I’ve ever seen in film. I immediately texted my friend, theatre critic Juan Ramirez, about the closet metaphor in the film and was pleasantly surprised to find a detailed read of my thesis already online from Alex Ross.

I was introduced to Cassavetes at NYU by a professor who was obsessed with the man and his acting style. We watched and discussed Minnie and Moskowitz and he never stopped talking about the movie the entire fucking semester. At that point, I was already exhausted by Cassavetes even though I’d loved the film. Flash forward to this week when I finally saw Opening Night, which I’d been meaning to since I learned that the opening scene inspired the opening of Pedro Almodóvar’s All About My Mother.

To get it out of the way, I didn’t love the film. But Gena Rowlands gave a MASTERCLASS in acting and ultimately that seems to be the point of Cassavetes as a director. From interviews I’ve read with him, he loves to let actors create a role themselves and then sets them off to play. You can tell he came from the theatre and his process is a lot more fun and, to me, provides better results than “method acting.” His feels feel like a true collaboration between writer, director, and actor.

Hopefully I can rest into watching most nights this year when I would rather turn off my brain and watch a rerun of Housewives. Sometimes, what your brain doesn’t need is to be turned off, what it really needs is exercise, to be massaged, to be replenished with slices of life.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week:

Pushed to the Edge by Beau travail, Alex Ross

Ambulance (2022), Michael Bay. A career best performance from Jake Gyllenhaal that seems fueled by cocaine.

Bringing Up Baby (1938), Howard Hawks. A favorite of mine, which I rewatched thanks to its mention in the Spanish Netflix series Smiley. A lovely gay rom com that’s eight episodes, which I’d recommend if you have some time to kill. It’s sweet, but at least two of the other stories I found boring. The leads are absolutely electric however, and it’s always a joy to see Ramón Pujol from one of my favorite romantic dramas, End of the Century.

I Wanna Dance With Somebody (2022) and Nanny (2022) because of the stellar lead perfomances from Naomi Ackie and Anna Diop, respectively. I found both films ultimately a bit lackluster, which is sad because Kasi Lemmons has directed one of my favorite films ever (Eve’s Bayou) and Nikyatu Jusu seems like an incredibly promising director with a voice that’s missing in modern cinema.