So I Can’t Review “Babylon” (2022) Because It’s Too Disgusting

If you enjoy visiting this blog, and also like keeping up with at least some movie news, maybe you were wondering if I would review Damien Chazelle’s Babylon. It’s set during the silent era and all, and isn’t that my wheelhouse? And isn’t it true that silent era-themed films don’t come along every day?

Wait, this is silent era-themed, right?

The thought “Maybe I’ll sort of consider possibly checking it out at some point, maybe” briefly crossed my mind, yes. But the misgivings were strong. The trailer didn’t make it look that great, having that extremely self-conscious “This ain’t your great-grandmother’s 1920s!” vibe and all. Doing a takedown of the historical anachronisms would be something, I guess, but did I really want to sit through 3 and a half hours of that? (What’s odd is that many of the clichés Chazelle claimed he was avoiding were historically inaccurate to begin with, so…why not move in a historically accurate version for a change? It would blow people’s minds–just saying!)

This classic from The Onion springs to mind.

Then I found out about the elephant poop, spraying right at the camera, no joke. And the vomit. And the urinating. And more vomit. And mountains of cocaine for some reason (there were some morphine addicts in the silent era but usually because of doctors’ prescriptions). And just the sheer, ugly, dirty maliciousness of it all.

So Long, Farewell To 2022: The Silent Community Year In Review

A Happy New Year’s Eve to all my readers! Along with popping champagne and eating crab legs that were on sale at your local grocery store, it’s time for the annual tradition of reviewing silent film-related news from the past year.

Preferably while wearing the bees’ knees of party outfits.

As always, while I try to make this a pretty detailed list, keep in that it’s not exhaustive. Feel free to leave a comment with any 2022-related silent film news you’d like to share (and any obvious stories I missed!). 2022 items only, please. Let’s get to it!

Thoughts On The 2022 Sight & Sound List And “Jeanne Dielman”

Now that the dust has been starting to settle on the news about the 2022 Sight & Sound film poll–the once-a-decade event ranking the top 100 greatest films of all time, with particular focus on the top 10–I thought I’d share some thoughts. Because the newest list is–how to put it–a doozy.

Just in case you’ve heard of Sight & Sound (spelled with either “&” or “and”) but haven’t looked into it much, it’s a prestigious monthly film magazine that’s been published by the British Film Institute since the 1930s. In 1952 they decided to poll critics and directors about what ten films they considered the all-time greats–Battleship Potemkin (1925) nabbed the top spot. It was decided that the poll would be held every ten years to gauge the tastes of the critical consensus and to see how appreciation of great cinema might evolve. The once-a-decade nature of the poll and its knowledgeable voter base made it, in the words of Roger Ebert, “…The most respected of the countless polls of great movies–the only one most serious movie people take seriously.” (I’d keep that quote in mind for the rest of this article.)

Stuck In A “Toxic” Present–What Today’s Hollywood Can Learn From Mary Pickford

There’s a movie industry-related trend that’s been growing in recent years, and it’s become…alarmingly pervasive. While its causes aren’t hard to discern, all things considered it’s still somewhat baffling.

Let’s take a look at two recent examples. Ponder, if you will, the following headline:

Obscure Films: “Cologne: From The Diary Of Ray And Esther” (1939)

Looking for some rare old films to watch? Other than Archive.org or YouTube–if you don’t mind wading through an ocean of fuzzy public domain copies and painful soundtracks–I can’t think of a better place to go than the National Film Preservation Foundation’s website. It has a free online library of freshly-preserved films, everything from 1910s cartoons to 1940s documentaries. And I recently discovered that the site was also hiding a marvelous surprise–for me, anyways!

On their “Treasures from the American Film Archives” screening room page they the link for a 14-minute film called Cologne: From the Diary of Ray and Esther (1939). The caption caught my eye: “Preserved by Minnesota Historical Society.” I, a native Minnesotan, thought: “Hold on! Cologne? Wait, was this filmed in that Cologne?”

The opening shot.

Cologne, Minnesota, you see, is a little town only a short drive from where I grew up. You zip past cornfields and soybean fields and cow pastures for awhile, cross a highway, and there it is, with an old railroad line running through it and a pretty little lake along one side. I still live pretty close by, and last year I even considered buying a house there! And lo and behold there it was, the star of a pre-WWII amateur film. How could I not check that out?

In Memory Of Buster And Eleanor’s House

Last weekend Buster Keaton fans heard the sad news that his last home, the comfortable ranch house he and his wife Eleanor bought in the 1950s, had been demolished. I’m sure I’m not the only fan who would’ve liked to glimpse it in person one day, if only from a car window. Sadly, that is one item on my bucket list that will go forever unchecked.

A nicely retouched/enhanced image courtesy of Steve Stubbs.

The one-story house, built in 1947, was bought with the $50,000 given to Buster by Paramount for the screen rights to his life story. The resulting film, The Buster Keaton Story (1957) starring Donald O’Connor, was frankly terrible (Eleanor recalled attending a preview with Buster and how they “felt like crawling out on our hands and knees”), but it did give them the ability to finally purchase their own house. The couple had been living with Buster’s family for years, and Buster’s career had gone through numerous ups and downs in that time. They took proud ownership of their new home in June 1956, and were content there until Buster’s death in 1966.

How CGI Can Convert People To Silent Films

It was towards the end of Aquaman (2019), where a stunning underwater battle full of glowing aquatic kingdoms and zapping weapons and vast crab armies and armored sharks ended with the superhero commanding the most enormous sea beastie ever while standing triumphantly on its head (seriously, the only thing missing was him whipping out an electric guitar), when it occurred to me that CGI had entered its Baroque period.

I mean, dang.

Generally speaking, we live in a remarkable era of special effects, don’t we? Anything we can imagine, no matter how epic or “out there,” can be brought to life onscreen. Mythical creatures, gorgeous landscapes, alien cities, giant robots, ancient gods, dinosaurs…the sky’s the limit if you have the right team of artists and animators. It’s no exaggeration to say that the scope of our creative abilities is something unprecedented in human history.

Image credit: Screen Crush

So naturally, while being faced with jaw-dropping visions the likes of which no human eye hast heretofore seen, we complain about how there’s too much CGI. If we comment on it at all, that is–it’s not a given the way it used to be.

Wishing You A Fine Fourth Of July

EDIT 7/13/20: New posts are on the way, folks! I had some time consuming projects to finish–am happy to get back to my regular postings! 

Happy Independence Day to my fellow U.S. readers! And lookee what I found:

Is this not one of the most glorious patriotic images you’ve ever seen? It’s an ad for Mary Pickford’s The Little American (1917), made during WWI’s Great Wave of Patriotic Fervor. And I’d like to offer a challenge to the folks who like colorizing images–see what you can do with this! (I’d like vintage-y colors, myself.)

Well, 2020 has certainly been the strangest and most offkilter of years so far–this is definitely not how I planned on welcoming the New ’20s. However, holidays always provide opportunities to reflect and to remember the many silver linings in life. It’s easy to get caught up in the emotions of the moment, but holidays can ground us in ways nothing else can. And dang it, there’s few things better than a Fourth of July BBQ with your family and friends on a steamy summer’s day. To take a slightly modified sentence from Dickens, who was writing about a completely different holiday: though the Fourth of July has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket,  I believe it has done me good, it will do me good, and I say, God bless it!

Readers, I hope all of you have a fine summer weekend, no matter where you are. And now, I’m off to light some sparklers.

 

—

Wishing You All A Fine Easter Sunday!

We’ve made it, my friends–through the most unexpected of early springs, and through the strangest of Lents. As a Catholic, I have to say that if anything, Lent was an awfully suitable time to get through a pandemic (I sure streamed a lot of Masses in my apartment). And while it’s not nearly over yet, today’s nevertheless a good time to cue Handel’s Messiah and enjoy the beauty and significance of Easter–even if it’s in a small way.

Follow Mary’s lead!

Here’s something festive, Motion Picture Magazine’s 1922 throwback to the popular Easter parades of yore. These parades aren’t as common today (especially not today) but from the 1870s onward they were a wildly popular tradition in major cities, especially New York City. It was a time for ladies and gentlemen to stroll the avenues in their festive finest, and ladies showed off their fanciest new Easter hats:

(You can right click the images and open them in a new tab to see the details.)

Here’s one more–Film Fun decided to collect images of actresses in fancy hats just for Easter:

“In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,
You’ll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade…”

Wherever you are, reader, know that I’m thinking of you today! Have a fine Sunday!

—

 

Silent-ology Recommends: “CHASE! A Tribute To The Keystone Cops”

Hold the candlestick phone! Another new book on silent comedy is available to brighten our bookshelves? And it’s the first-ever book on the Keystone Cops?!

“It is? Seriously?“

Why yes indeed! I’m happy to help spread the word that the fine new book CHASE! A Tribute to the Keystone Cops is now available from BearManor Media. It represents a dream team effort by a number of historians and writers, all compiled by editors Lon and Debra Davis. Many of the names you probably know already: Sam Gill, Joe Adamson, Michael J. Hayde, Rob King, Mark Pruett, Chris Seguin, Paul E. Gierucki, John Bengtson, Randy Skretvedt, Rob Farr, Brent E. Walker, Mark Wanamaker, Stanley W. Todd, Lon Davis himself, and Lea Stans.

Wait–Lea Stans? Why yes, that is me, and I’m very proud to announce that this is the first time my writing is appearing in a good ol’ turn-the-pages book!