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đ¤ CHICAGO UNDERGROUND FILM FESTIVAL
The 29th annual Chicago Underground Film Festival begins on Wednesday and continues through Sunday, July 31. All film screenings will take place at the Logan Theatre (2646 N. Milwaukee Ave.); afterparties and non-film related events will take place elsewhere. Below is coverage of the first two days of the festival. We will have coverage of the programs screening July 29 - 31 on next weekâs list. More info here.
Shorts 3: Family Affair
Friday, 5pm
Memory is a concept that lives on film in ways both intentional and unintentional. Once an image is captured, it starts to degrade, and just as people are touched by experience, so too do films carry their environments with them. In Family Affair, filmmakers use a broad range of experimental forms to create personal essays and explorations of the self, aging, and the shifting relationships we all have with family. Predictably, the program gets into heavy territory, with Melody Gilbertâs JUDY'S THOUGHTS (2022, 13 min, DCP Digital) and Alex Coppolaâs BELONGINGS (2022, 10 min, DCP Digital) grappling with what it's like to lose one's parents through the use of archival material. Where Coppolaâs film employs more traditional narration and camera addresses from the film's subject and writer, Morgan Talty, Gilbertâs goes a more oblique route, setting archival audio from her motherâs final days with terminal illness to evocative, abstract visuals. Using a similar method, Ace McCollâs BE KIND, PLEASE (2020, 4 min, DCP Digital) explores further the temporal differences in familial relationships, contrasting increasingly irate voicemails from an estranged father with nostalgic home video footage. That the footage and audio both begin to glitch and deteriorate makes more visceral the feeling that the past is forever out of reach and memories cannot remain unchanged. But the plummets into family history arenât all sad; program highlight BEHIND CLOSED DOORS (2021, 5 min, DCP Digital) traces filmmaker Hugo Ljungbäckâs coming out through the gestures heâs held with him since attending a Madonna concert in middle school. Itâs an ecstatic celebration of the continuity of self, particularly in queer bodies that tend to feel discontinuous more often than not. Even the comparatively bleak ELE OF THE DARK (2022, 13 min, DCP Digital) sees filmmaker Yace Sula working through darkness and strife to come out more fully realized on the other side. Both films find comfort in the outcome of self-realization, in part through the recognition that the self was always there to begin with. Rashayla Marie Brownâs REALITY IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH (2021, 21 min, DCP Digital) is another standout of the lighter half of the program, with the filmmaker eulogizing her mother by getting the rest of her family to act out her fantasies of being on reality TV. Itâs a tongue in cheek but still moving tribute, and one that uses revisionism as a way to bring forth the inner life of its subject. Here, film is used for its fantastical possibilities; sometimes the unreal is closer to the truth. Each film in the program uses form very intentionally, and through the heaviness of its themes, the program reminds us that film is an ideal medium both to memorialize and process relationships. [Maxwell Courtright]
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Peter Sempelâs JONAS IN THE FIELDS(Germany/Lithuania/US/Documentary)
Friday, 9pm
Jonas Mekas was a true talent: a writer, a poet, and pioneer of avant-garde cinema. What better way to capture the life of a man who was always running his camera, than to follow him with another camera? JONAS IN THE FIELDS marks the fourth in a series of films on Mekas that started in 1994 with Sempelâs film JONAS IN THE DESERT. In this installment, the two men travel around the globe attending events like book and film presentations and charity auctions. A number of guest stars appear to provide valuable insights into the man and his work as well as share anecdotes about Mekas that theyâve accumulated over the years. The last third of the film is dedicated to footage from memorial events after Mekasâ passing in 2019. Here we see his influence in full flower, the guests all emboldened to live lives full of food, drink, and brief glimpses of beauty. The film naturally deviates from the standard documentary; we drift between scenes utilizing a cinematic logic rather than a chronological or narrative one. Mekas work consists mainly of diary films and intimate poetry, so to provide us with the perspective of another person is undoubtedly valuable. This cinematic giant created works that traversed the then and the now, and likewise Mekas himself will continue to do the same. Preceded by MM Sera and Emily Singer's 2022 short TALES AND VISIONS OF COMMUNITY WITH MM SERRA: TO JONAS WITH LOVE (9 min, DCP Digital). (2021, 106 min, DCP Digital) [Drew Van Weelden]
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Shorts 4: If This Room Could Talk
Saturday, 12:30pm
Bifurcated narratives dominate in this program of diaristic and poetic shorts. In most of the films, there's a moment that shocks the visual tone or the narrative logic out of whack. It makes sense in times of continuous, turbulent shiftsâwhen memory is being formed as pre-or-post political/environmental/epidemiological changeâthat these shifts would impact formal structure as well. In Dena Springer's delightful animation BOYS CLAP, GIRLS DANCE (2022, 10 min, DCP Digital) the shift happens along binary gendered norms. The imagery is muddled nostalgiaâthink gentle educational programming through a generationally degraded VHS tape. There's a parade of institutionally provided gender norms that are shattered by the lead "Girl" character's self reflection. When she breaks out of the flow of images, her identity multiplies and expands in a beautiful graphic explosion. Rajee Samarasinghe's graceful black-and-white STRANGERS (2022, 11 min, DCP Digital) considers a country and a family before and after a war. Long absences and familial strains brought on by the long war are felt in performance and digressions into the natural surroundings. Luis Arnias' TERROR HAS NO SHAPE (2021, 11 min, DCP Digital) is a spirted odd jumble of great low-key sci-fi impulses and vibes with an oblique narrative. In the story as presented, a Boston bodega cat witnesses a shapeless white alien land and the whole thing ends in ritualistic fire. I'm not sure if that's what I saw, but I love it all the same. Arnias excels at surreal subtlety and absurd beauty. Ben Russell's AGAINST TIME (2022, 23 min, DCP Digital) is the most explicitly bifurcated of the bunch, with two "tone poems" of intensely repeating motifs delivered in blue and red. The "blue" section begins with a celebratory movement back in time. People reset, fireworks go back inside their shells to explode another happier day, and Cyndi Lauper escorts us backânot too farâjust to some recently idealized place. Then the "red" section begins ominously with wine-dark waters and pounding music. Time is propulsing forward in a terrifying accelerationist manner now. Images of fragile domestic beauty are frighteningly pulled apart. Ultimately we end on a timeless sunset where we are reminded of the inescapable present, where the fictionalized ideal past and the terrifying potential future are both just abstractions. Caitlyn Ryan's offhanded and playful GREETINGS FROM BONITA (2022, 5 min, DCP Digital) begins with a letter from grandma beckoning us back home. Once there, the importance of death is considered in the form of a discussion of pickleball, and the importance of new life is demonstrated by teens showing off their cannonballs and willingness to eat bugs. In Irving Gamboa's SUPER 8 COLLAGE (A SONG FOR LIELOS SNAS) (2019, 15 min, DCP Digital) flickering images of children mesh with stone temples in ancestral lands. Dreamy passages of tinkling music and fauna punctuate this epic conflagration of monument building and child-bearing. Also screening is Bernd LĂźtzeler's HOW TO BUILD A HOUSE OUT OF WRECKAGE AND RAGS (2022, 8 min, DCP Digital). [Josh B Mabe]
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Shorts 8: Canât Strain My Brain
Sunday, 2:30pm
The shorts in this program put formal experimentation in the foreground, but rarely in an aggressive or disorienting way; in fact, the vibe is generally pleasant. Even the one exception, experimental legend Peter Tscherkasskyâs TRAIN AGAIN (2021, 20 min, DCP Digital), is devoid of any upsetting imagery. Rather, it achieves its jarring impact through such filmic effects as rapid montage, negative printing, and superimpositions. The shots, taken from other movies, mostly concern trains, and the marvelous thing about the film is how Tscherkassky evokes the mechanical power that motors both locomotives and cinema. TRAIN AGAIN concludes Canât Strain My Brain on a high note, providing a rush of cinematic invention that puts the ideas of the other selections into hyperdrive. A recurring theme is the relationships that images have with other images and that films have with other films. Matt Whitmanâs THATâS WHEN I THOUGHT I COULD HEAR YOU (2021, 9 min, DCP Digital) meditates on this concept explicitly, with shots of smartphone screens displaying images of various backgrounds that also serve as backgrounds to the phones. Anja Dornieden, Juan David GonzĂĄlez Monroy, and Andrew Kimâs INSTANT LIFE (2022, 27 min, 16mm) is more complex: per the filmmakers, âthe three films⌠are shot-for-shot reproductions of the compilation film INSTANT LIFE (1981). Each film in INSTANT LIFE (1981) was a remake of an earlier film also called INSTANT LIFE (1941)⌠We did not attempt to recreate INSTANT LIFE (1941) because that INSTANT LIFE is lost.â I canât say how this work compares to its forebears, though the imagery, which often circles back to tiny examples of marine life, can be soothing on an almost abstract level. Jodie Mack achieves something similar with foliage in her characteristically magnificent WASTELAND NO. 3: MOONS, SUNS (2021, 5 min, 16mm), employing stop-motion animation to make dead plants seem like alien life forms. Likewise, Deborah Stratmanâs LAIKA (2021, 5 min, DCP Digital), a music video for composer Olivia Block, makes an open parachute look like a pulsating giant jellyfish thanks to the beauty of slow motion. WASTELAND NO. 3 and LAIKA are both short and dialogue-free, yet each suggests an expansive conversation between the filmmakerâs imagination and the physical world she inhabits. The most character-driven work in the program, THE ACCEPTANCE SPEECH (2022, 11 min, 16mm) explicitly concerns the filmmakerâs inner life, as director Kexin Yao shares some stray personal thoughts over serene dreamlike imagery. It illustrates the kind of free-floating ideation that makes creative experimentation possible. [Ben Sachs]
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Jacob Gregorâs ENDLESS CONTENT FOREVER (US)
Sunday, 8:30pm
ENDLESS CONTENT FOREVER turns the forms of online media against themselves. But while it certainly belongs in the Chicago Underground Film Festivalâthe grainy video and actorsâ exaggerated lack of affect couldâve been created by its own charactersâit resonates with the work of a few artists who address contemporary lifeâs dangerous absurdity in forms that evade easy categorization: Conner OâMalley, Alan Resnick, Jon Rafman, even Bo Burnham. The filmâs first half shows the dreary existence of Sam (Maddie Daviss), a woman who lives in a boring, unidentified small town. While she longs for fame as a YouTuber, she grinds away making videos for a tiny audience. Clips like an ASMR video in which she eats deodorant show how bitter and cynical sheâs become. Everyone around her shares the same tendency to alternate between anger and numb banalities: itâs hard to say which is more chilling, the man repeatedly singing âLife fucking sucks, I wanna kill myselfâ over a faint hip-hop beat or the guy launching a movie review channel by mumbling his way through praise for Marvel. Then the film takes a leap beyond narrative. The colors turn to ugly shades of green and purple, as though ENDLESS CONTENT FOREVER were edited on a damaged computer from the â90s. On the same screen, director Jacob Gregor superimposes as many kinds of âcontentâ as he can come up with, cut together in a grating montage. The painfully dumb hosts of an amateur talk show crowd Al Goreâs 2000 concession speech on its sides. Politics seems as meaningless as gossip about TikTok celebrities or a video of a man slowly eating a hamburger in his car. ENDLESS CONTENT FOREVER describes Extremely Online numbness without succumbing to irony poisoning or reducing itself to cinematic shit-posting. Its rage at âthe boring dystopia,â as the late writer Mark Fisher described life in the 2010s, is barely concealed. At the end, ENDLESS CONTENT FOREVER comes back to its original narrative, but Gregor keeps the cameraâs focus on Samâs face for several minutes as a grim vaporwave dirge plays. There doesnât seem to be any hope sheâor weâcan escape this online purgatory. The program begins with Peter Bolteâs short SEYMOUR RUCK (2022, 13 min, DCP Digital), starring former Jesus Lizard singer David Yow as a sad middle-aged man who keeps losing his teeth. (2022, 72 min, DCP Digital) [Steve Erickson]
đ˝ď¸ CRUCIAL VIEWING
King Vidorâs THE BIG PARADE (US/Silent)
Doc Films (at the University of Chicago) â Thursday, 7pm
By some accounts the most successful movie of the silent era, THE BIG PARADE offers something for everybody: romance, comedy, spectacle, suspense, sincerity, cynicism, cuteness, and violence. Even the filmâs depiction of war speaks to both pro- and anti-war spectators, first with rousing scenes of military life that anticipate a lot of late-period John Ford, then with harrowing battle sequences that ask us to question why we send men to fight and die in the first place. In short, this is a chief work in King Vidorâs schizophrenic oeuvre, which encompasses the socialist classic OUR DAILY BREAD (1934), the Ayn Rand adaptation THE FOUNTAINHEAD (1949), and numerous other ideological positions in between. That THE BIG PARADE feels emotionally coherent in spite of its thematic inconsistency is a testament to Vidorâs gifts as a storyteller. Here was a filmmaker who could empathize with his characters no matter where their allegiances went. As in his subsequent masterpiece THE CROWD (1928), Vidor introduces his characters as archetypes, thereby emphasizing the universality of their experience. Jim Apperson (John Gilbert) is a layabout New York heir who discovers direction in life when heâs encouraged to enlist in World War I. Stationed in France, he befriends two working-class soldiers, nicknamed Slim and Bull, and falls in love with a farm girlâthese developments, infused with humor and warmth, show how everyone is made equal in war. When Jim and his friends go to battle, they encounter a different kind of equality, in which no soldier has greater luck than any other in escaping death. Vidorâs battle scenes are remarkably tense, even by contemporary standards, thanks to his expert pacing and strong evocation of the charactersâ dread. THE BIG PARADE builds to a grand-scale climax, much of it shot by an uncredited second director when MGM executives decided their big investment needed more flashy war scenes. The resolution finds Vidor having it both ways again, delivering a bitter scene where Jim returns home disillusioned, then following it up with a sweeter coda that finds him reuniting with his lady love in France. This sort of crowd-pleasing Hollywood showmanship has its most direct heir in Spielbergâs SAVING PRIVATE RYAN (1998), though one also finds echoes of it in many contemporary Bollywood epics, which also cover multiple genres within individual films. Had Vidor made THE BIG PARADE ten years later, he might well have put a musical number in it. (1925, 151 min, 35mm) [Ben Sachs]
Scott Sandersâ BLACK DYNAMITE (US)
Doc Films (at the University of Chicago) â Friday, 5pm and Saturday, 8:30pm
Do you ever wish the world was filled with plaid, polyester fabrics in earth tones, boat-size cars with boxy shapes, fur-covered fedoras, rhinestone-covered leisure suits, and beachball-size afros and that Richard Nixon still ran things? Yeah, except for the afros, neither do I. The same cannot be said for Scott Sanders and Michael Jai White. Following an inspiration actor and martial artist White had while listening to a James Brown track on his iPod, he teamed up with director Sanders and a slew of the best comic actors in the business to make a tongue-in-cheek homage to blaxploitation films of the 1970s. The script by White, Sanders, and Byron Minns aims for maximum action through a convoluted plot that leads all the way to Whiteyâs House. White plays Black Dynamite, an ex-CIA sex and mayhem machine who is out to avenge the death of his brother, Jimmy (Baron Vaughn). Along the way, he encounters an old buddy from âNam (Kevin Chapman), who reinstates him in the CIA, along with his license to killâan activity he carried out regularly without a license. He hooks up with an Angela Davis knockoff named Gloria (Salli Richardson-Whitfield) who is working to get smack off the streets, as well as a crew of oddly named sidekicksâCream Corn (Tommy Davidson), Bullhorn (Minns), Sweet Meat (Brian McKnight), Kotex (John Salley), Tasty Freeze (Arsenio Hall), and othersâto find his brotherâs murderer and uncover the drug network that is ravaging the neighborhood. From the extremely fake jive talk Jimmy uses to try to get out of being machine-gunned to the boom mike visible in one scene, BLACK DYNAMITE chronicles the travails of legitimate actors stuck in low-budget productions. Errors both planned and unforced fill the film, as does a lot of improvised dialogue. Whiteâs riff on seeing a little âChineseâ boy mangled and crying in a burning hooch is improv comedy at its best. So is a scene in which some young orphans pretend to be junkies, smacking their arms to pop up a vein and begging Gloria to fix them. A sex scene between Black Dynamite (not even his dying mother calls him anything else) and Gloria uses animated images from vintage posters showing each sign of the zodiac using a different sex positionâa truly ingenious way to get in an obligatory scene without having the leading lady get naked. Like real films of the era, the nonstop violence that mimics the padding found in most blaxploitation films gets a little boring, but the chance to revisit an era so authentically recreated is a supreme treat. (2009, 90 min, 35mm) [Marilyn Ferdinand]
Jonathan Demme's NEIL YOUNG: HEART OF GOLD (US/Documentary)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Saturday, 7pm
In interviews for his concert film HEART OF GOLD, Neil Young made clear that he sought out Jonathan Demme to direct it because he considered Demmeâs Talking Heads concert film STOP MAKING SENSE (1984) the greatest movie of its kind. Dave Kehr rightly praised the earlier film for advancing an âenlightened humanismâ that âneither deifies the performers nor encourages an illusory intimacy, but presents the musicians simply as people doing their job and enjoying it.â That sensibility remains evident in HEART OF GOLD, which demonstrates again how much you can learn about a musician by simply watching them play their instrument. Demme lingers over each of the many players here with great affection, whether famous pros like Ben Keith and Spooner Oldham or the stagehand who creates a cinematic effect on âHarvest Moonâ by rhythmically sweeping a broom. Barring a brief prologue, there are no interviews or other interruptions to the flow of songs; nonetheless, that prologue dramatically shapes everything that follows. We learn that Young recorded the album Prairie Wind (whose songs form the bulk of HEART OF GOLD) in the week before he underwent surgery for a brain aneurysm, fully aware that he didnât have a 100% guarantee of surviving the operation. The songs on Prairie Wind confront aging and mortality in the vulnerable, plainspoken manner for which Young is renowned; yet the lush country arrangements (which harken back to earlier Young LPs Harvest and Harvest Moon) lend the sentiments an epic sweep. A recurring theme in the lyrics is finding comfort in tradition and community; the performances represent the winning fulfillment of that theme, as most of the musicians here (who at one point number a couple dozen) have known Young for decades and perform with him to express their friendship. Demme never overstated his themes, and HEART OF GOLD succeeds as a paean to the life-saving power of music because it shows, simply and incontrovertibly, how this group of people stay alive through their songs. Screening as part of the In Concert series. (2006, 103 min, 35mm) [Ben Sachs]
Mervyn LeRoy and Busby Berkeleyâs GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933 (US)
Doc Films (at the University of Chicago) â Friday, 8:30pm
Following the success of director Alan Croslandâs Vitaphone classic THE JAZZ SINGER (1927), the writing was on the wall for silent film production. Over the next three years, every Hollywood studio leaned into talkies, especially musicals. There were so many musicals produced in 1929 and 1930 that audiences lost interest in them; thus, like the rest of the country, the film industry was in dire financial straits. Enter a Broadway showman and transplant to Hollywood who came to save not only Warner Bros., but also the movie musicalâBusby Berkeley. In 1933, Berkeley hit the trifecta as choreographer and dance director of three enormously successful musicalsâ42ND STREET, GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933, and FOOTLIGHT PARADEâthat channeled his experiences as dance director for the Ziegfeld Follies and tapped into the moviemaking skills he acquired during the previous three years working on such films as WHOOPEE! (1930) and GIRL CRAZY (1932). Of the aforementioned three showbiz-themed films, only GOLD DIGGERS OF 1933 dared to make a political statement about the misery caused in the aftermath of World War I and the ensuing Great Depression ten years later. The film follows the misadventures of four actors (Ruby Keeler, Joan Blondell, Ginger Rogers, and Aline MacMahon) and the Broadway producer (Ned Sparks) who simply want to put on a show but lack the money to do so. The very opening of the film, a close-up of Rogersâ moon face as she sings âWeâre in the Money,â sounds an ironic note from the start. The close-ups of the chorines in the number reflect the Ziegfeld philosophy on which Berkeley cut his teeth (âA Pretty Girl Is Like a Melodyâ), but the coins the girls wear like G-strings over their crotches tell us weâre squarely in pre-Code Hollywood; for emphasis, when creditors close the show down before it even opens, a repossessor brutally rips the coin off Rogersâ skimpy show pants. The unemployed women, who share an apartment, steal milk from an adjacent apartment until Rogers shows up and says Sparks is casting a new musical about the Depression (âsomething we know all aboutâ). He agrees to hire a young songwriter (Dick Powell) Keeler fancies who, unbeknownst to his new friends, is a member of a wealthy Boston family who mysteriously agrees to finance the show. The attempts of his family to stop him from going into show business result in romantic entanglements for the women Powellâs older brother (William Warren) and the family lawyer (Guy Kibbee) have labeled âgold diggers.â The writing is funny and sharp in the long middle section of dramatic action between the musical numbers, but I personally can never wait for âPetting in the Parkâ and the powerful âRemember My Forgotten Manâ numbers. âPettingâ revels in its naughtiness as a nine-year-old Billy Barty plays a baby who crawls around between the bare legs of the chorus girls and starts to lift a scrim behind which the women, seen in silhouette, are baring all to change costume. The finale of the film, âForgotten Man,â is a bluesy torch song that Joan Blondell first recites and then sings as we see proud doughboys go off to war and return, bloody and broken, to stand their turn in a bread line. A cop who pesters a vagrant on the street is stopped by Blondell, who shows him the man is a veteran; this is a reminder of the cruelty of the Hoover Administration, which in 1932, sent police to clear the war veterans demanding early cash redemption of their service bonus certificates. The so-called bonus marchers were fired upon by police and later forcibly removed from their encampments by the U.S. Army. The Art Deco style of the scenery used in âForgotten Manâ coordinates with the geometric designs Berkeley incorporates into his choreography. He also introduces technical innovation with the neon-lit violin dance âShadow Waltz.â The music by Harry Warren and lyrics by Al Dubin are little masterpieces from Tin Pan Alley. Ginger Rogersâ â30s vocal stylings have to be heard to be believed, and the pairing of high tenor Dick Powell with low alto Ruby Keeler is bizarre but somehow works. (1933, 97 min, 35mm) [Marilyn Ferdinand]
Bert Stern and Aram Avakianâs JAZZ ON A SUMMERâS DAY (US/Documentary)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Sunday, 1pm
The history of motion pictures is inextricably tied to the field of photography, beginning with the motion studies of English photographer Eadweard Muybridge in the 1870s and moving through the 20th and 21st centuries with such photographer/directors as Agnès Varda, Stanley Kubrick, Gordon Parks, Cindy Sherman, and Robert Frank. Bert Stern, producer/director of JAZZ ON A SUMMERâS DAY, was, like Frank, a commercial and fashion photographer. Heâs best known now for his photos of Marilyn Monroe, but in 1958 he was interested in making an experimental film during the simultaneously occurring Newport Jazz Festival and the 18th running of the Americaâs Cup. Perhaps he was inspired by the entry of the first experimental yachts to be allowed into the Cup competition and the eclectic mix of Dixieland, big band, cool jazz, gospel, blues, and even rock ân roll artists slated to appear at the festival. Whatever his motivation, he and five other cameramen descended on the elite island getaway and ended up creating, with the expert editing of Aram Avakian, the progenitor of the modern concert film. Dancing reflections in harbor waters are accompanied by the staccato sax of Jimmy Giuffre, the valve trombone of Bob Brookmeyer, and the guitar of Jim Hall playing âThe Train and the Riverâ as the credits introduce the talents Stern will feature. Louis Armstrong and Mahalia Jackson get top billing. Gerry Mulligan, Dinah Washington, Chico Hamilton, and Anita OâDay follow, and then other featured performers and a host of expert sidemen. The film warms us to its subject as it tees up preparations for the start of the Americaâs Cup and the dayâs concert. A Dixieland band literally blows their way into town in an antique jalopy and acts as our intermittent guides through the film. The battle on the waves, seen in random geometric formations from the air, is scored with Thelonious Monkâs magnificent âBlue Monk,â making one wish there were more tunes from this jazz pioneer. I wasnât familiar with Anita OâDay before this film, and she seems a dainty woman here in a feathered hat, frill-bottomed shift, and white gloves. She gingerly negotiates some steps in a pair of Lucite, high-heeled mules, but from then on, there is nothing timid about her ingenious, pitch-perfect renditions of âSweet Georgia Brownâ and âTea for Two.â Perhaps my favorite act of the film is the Chico Hamilton Quintet, most memorable to cinephiles as the combo that backs Martin Milner in SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS (1957), performing the tribal-sounding, hypnotic âBlue Sands.â I was also thrilled to see Dinah Washington, a favorite singer of mine whom Iâve only known through recordings, smile her way through âAll of Me.â Throughout the film, Sternâs directorial and photographic eye finds particular faces among the concertgoersâa man with a long cigar snapping his fingers, a mother and her young daughter enjoying Louis Armstrongâs banter and red-hot trumpeting, four African-American women swaying and snapping to Mahalia Jacksonâs jubilant rendition of âWalk All Over Godâs Heaven,â a young couple swing-dancing to Chuck Berry. These miniature portraits, as edited by Avakian, become something of a call-response between the musicians and the audience, building a feeling for the event that makes JAZZ ON A SUMMERâS DAY more pleasurable with each viewing. Bert Stern never made another film, but thatâs no cause for distress. Perfectionâs hard to top. (1959, 82 min, DCP Digital) [Marilyn Ferdinand]
Cheryl Dunye's THE WATERMELON WOMAN (US)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Tuesday, 7pm
Itâs 1997 in Philadelphia, but Cheryl (Cheryl Dunye) canât get her mind off the 1930s. An aspiring filmmaker who pays the bills by juggling various wedding gigs and shifts at a video store, Cheryl becomes fascinated by an obscure film actress named Fae Richardsâalso known as The Watermelon Womanâwho played Black âmammyâ roles throughout the â30s. Cheryl turns this obsession into her first real film project, a documentary that leads to a journey of finding forgotten pieces of Black lesbian history and filmmaking. At the same time, Cheryl navigates her budding relationship with a white woman, Diana (Guinevere Turner), often mirroring Richardsâ rumored relationship with director Martha Page. Dunye makes it clear that THE WATERMELON WOMAN is both a Black film and a lesbian film, and that acknowledging the importance of how those identities relate to one another is integral to understanding a broader picture of queer history in America. This is not a film that cares about a white gazeânor should itâbut it is crucial viewing all the same. The dialogue is sometimes charming, sometimes awkward, and always laugh-out-loud funny, making THE WATERMELON WOMAN a breeze to watch. But there is real heart and substance in addition to all that; the yearning for a past that was never yours, a future that isnât quite here yet, and an identity that guides how you move through the world. Preceded by Jan Oxenberg's 1975 short A COMEDY IN SIX UNNATURAL ACTS (26 min, DCP Digital). (1997, 90 min, DCP Digital) [Cody Corrall]
đ˝ď¸ ALSO RECOMMENDED
Andrew Semansâ RESURRECTION (US)
Music Box Theatre â See Venue website for showtimes
An ambitious thriller, RESURRECTION gives pulpy elements an arthouse treatment. Several aspects of the plot harken back to the golden age of stalker movies, but the movie falls into the small group of films in which the target proves to be at least as dangerous as the stalker. Margaret (Rebecca Hall) believes she has taken control of her life after she was groomed and abused by her ex-boyfriend David (Tim Roth) 22 years ago. She tries to keep a tight rein on her daughter Abbie (Grace Kaufman), who's leaving for college soon, and maintain an emotionless, wholly sexual relationship with Peter (Michael Esper). Still, her life has been haunted, not only by Davidâs manipulation but by the child she lost. In the filmâs centerpiece, Margaret delivers an eight-minute monologue spelling out the full details of Davidâs abuse. One day, she sees him return, and the two spend the rest of RESURRECTION playing a game of cat and mouse. It's possible to make equally good cases for the film as either feminist or sexist in its view of trauma defining a woman's life, but that testifies to its embrace of messiness and nuance. Too many recent genre films telegraph their politics through ârelatableâ characters simply depicted as victims. Margaret is never fully reduced to her problems, but her issues run too deep to be healed, resulting in behavior thatâs destructive to herself and others. This might all fall apart without Hallâs carefully modulated performance. She speaks in a clipped, posh English accent, with mannerisms that suggest Margaretâs tight struggle to control herself. Hallâs performance lends the character dignity and belief in herself; as strange as her actions get, she never seems to perceive herself as losing control. The mood of brooding despair is enhanced by the small number of characters and locations. Semans films Albany, New York, as a glossy, anonymous city full of skyscrapers but void of social interaction, in line with the way Toronto has frequently been used. (In fact, the only clue to the setting is a patch on a copâs uniform.) While one could compare RESURRECTION to several classic horror films, naming them would spoil the plot. Itâs more telling that Todd Haynes' SAFE (1995) also seems like a key reference point. (2022, 104 min, DCP Digital) [Steve Erickson]
Bong Joon-ho's THE HOST (South Korea)
Music Box Theatre â Friday and Saturday, Midnight
Prior to its release, THE HOST was one of the most anticipated films in South Korea of all time and it is easy to see why. After an American scientist orders his Korean assistant to dump hundreds of bottles of formaldehyde down the drain, the chemicals find their way to the Han River. Jumping ahead six years, a creature has mutated while living in the river and has grown into a 30-foot fish-monster, with legs and a tail that allow it to walk on land. When the monster finally reveals itself, a familyâs life is torn asunder when its youngest daughter is taken away by the creature. Song Kang-hoâs performance as the daughterâs father, Park Gang-du, is full of nuance and hilarity, and his characterâs arc is wonderfully realized, as he transforms from a dim-witted underachiever to a determined patriarch looking out for his family. THE HOST blends dark-humor and a compelling family drama with the trappings of American monster movies of the 1970s and 80s to form a well-rounded and heartfelt film. On a deeper level, the film provides plenty of social commentary on the United Statesâ presence in South Korea and plenty of political commentary to boot. Government agencies, both American and Korean, are depicted as uncaring, inept, and (sometimes) nefarious. A substance deployed to defeat the monster called âAgent Yellowâ clearly alludes to the U.S.âs days in Vietnam. Other sequences in the film certainly allude to the United States' presence in Iraq and The War on Terror happening at that time. (2006, 119 min, 35mm) [Kyle Cubr]
JĂťzĂ´ Itamiâs TAMPOPO (Japan)
Music Box Theatre â Tuesday, 7pm
Frequently billed as a âramen western,â the satirical TAMPOPO follows the SHANE-esque Goro who decides to help the bubbly Tampopo turn around her struggling noodle shop. Tampopo wants to learn the secret to making the perfect ramen. Although JĂťzĂ´ Itamiâs film was only marginally successful in Japan upon first release, it has since been received with almost universal praise thanks to its delightfully whimsical interweaving of food, sex, and death. TAMPOPO is episodic in nature: Itamiâs free flowing narrative draws influence from the works of Luis BuĂąuel. Each humorous sequence flows freely into each other, often aided by sheer preposterousness that works charmingly well. The real star here is the food. Dish after dish, meal after meal, itâs impossible not to feel hungry when watching this film. A foodieâs ultimate dream, the impressive showcase of culinary offerings is staggering, and their preparations are shown in great detail. Thereâs a prevailing sense of joy permeating the entire film that delights in simple pleasures like cooking, lovemaking, and sometimes the two combined. Like some of the tantalizing ramen presented onscreen, TAMPOPO is a hearty visual feast best enjoyed in the company of others and with a ferocious appetite. (1985, 114 min, DCP Digital) [Kyle Cubr]
Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson's SUMMER OF SOUL (US/Documentary)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Friday, 6pm
Attended by 300,000 people, the Harlem Cultural Festival was a free concert series held in Mount Morris Park (now Marcus Garvey Park) in the summer of 1969. Performers at the event included Stevie Wonder, Mahalia Jackson, B.B. King, Sly and the Family Stone, and Nina Simone. A celebration of Black music and history, the concert series and its cultural magnitude has been largely undiscussed, overshadowed by music festivals like Woodstockâwhich was held that same summer, one hundred miles away. The series was fully filmed, but footage remained unseen for years. Using that footage, Ahmir âQuestloveâ Thompson, in the musicianâs debut feature film, directs SUMMER OF SOULâsubtitled âŚOr, When the Revolution Could Not Be Televisedâas part documentary and part concert film. Full performances are combined with interviews of attendees and musicians and archival material detailing the political and social climate in America at the time. Describing the specificity of Harlem as a community and the significance of the event to those participating, SUMMER OF SOUL grounds the vibrant and beautifully shot concert footage in robust context. It lets the variety of acts and musical genres and styles primarily be articulated in the outstanding stage performances and the reactions from the audience in the park. An early and incredibly effective moment in the documentary shows singer Marilyn McCoo of the 5th Dimension becoming emotional as she watches herself performing on the Harlem Cultural Festival stage; she so well expresses the significance of Black musicians playing music for a Black audience, a theme that runs throughout. SUMMER OF SOUL is an important reframing of the history of American 60s counterculture, a jubilant celebration, and a great reminder that music is not always just a reflection of challenging times but can also itself be revolutionary. Screening as part of the In Concert series. (2021, 117 min, DCP Digital) [Megan Fariello]
D.A. Pennebaker's ZIGGY STARDUST AND THE SPIDERS FROM MARS (UK/Documentary)
Gene Siskel Film Center â Friday, 8:30pm
In 1973, David Bowie would give his last performance as Ziggy Stardust on the final stop of his world tour in London. D. A. Pennebaker successfully captures the show, along with backstage moments that reveal a tired yet cheerful Bowie. I feel that a good concert film rises above merely emulating or reliving a show. It's hard to put a finger on what exactly separates something like Pennebakerâs film and a YouTube live stream of Lollapalooza, but what he put together is truly great. (This is no easy feat and my criteria for grading is pretty high; STOP MAKING SENSE is a film that I revisit multiple times a year.) With ZIGGY STARDUST, Pennebaker reflects what Bowie was about in 1973, his flamboyant outfits and unbound creativity on full display. Pennebaker emphasizes this by cutting between the audience and tight shots of Bowieâs intense gaze as he sings. The crowd is either pulsating in fervor or hypnotized by the alien band before them, like during one particularly amazing moment where a hanging disco ball reflects off a young man's glasses while Bowie performs "Space Oddity." The tight shots of Bowie, a byproduct of poor lighting in the venue, are perhaps what elevates the film from a mere documentation to something more intimate. By the end, youâll feel like you know Bowie in a way that you couldn't gain from a talking head interview. Of course, even if the film was a static wide shot of a stage, it would be worth watching. David Bowie was just that good. Screening as part of the In Concert series. (1979, 90 min, DCP Digital) [Drew Van Weelden]
CINE-LIST: July 29 - August 4, 2022
MANAGING EDITORS // Ben and Kat Sachs
CONTRIBUTORS // Cody Corrall, Maxwell Courtright, Kyle Cubr, Steve Erickson, Megan Fariello, Marilyn Ferdinand, JB Mabe, Michael Glover Smith, Drew Van Weelden