Tout Le Monde
• I haven't thought of high-school physics or the cover of The Dark Side Of The Moon in a very long time. And then I caught up with Miranda July's Me And You And Everyone We Know, the best thing I've seen in the theaters so far this year. With most new filmmakers, it takes the audience a couple of films to nail down their sensibility, scan their preoccupations, begin connecting the dots that define their aesthetic identities. But Miranda July's mind has all the lucidity of a crystalline prism. The outside world goes in, and then emerges, refracted, rendered mystic yet concrete, through her magical, melancholic sensibility. Her tone and touch are so assured and her vision so fully developed that it's hard to believe that this is only her first feature film.
• Sometimes the maddening movies stay with you — and yammer into your mind's ear — longer than the perfect ones do. Elia Kazan's Splendor In The Grass is squeezed tight into a pressure cooker of sexual repression. The teenage hormones dribble off the screen while you squirm in your seat. Parents are utter monsters in this movie, and every girl and boy (including Warren Beatty) is bursting with uncontrollable sex fever. Everyone except the madly angelic Natalie Wood, who happens to have a heart as big as the torrential waterfall that opens the film. When she suddenly stands up in her bathtub, outraged at her mother and wearing not a stitch (this in a 1961 movie), the audience feels no titillation, just a heartbreaking chill. Visually, the movie is drop-dead gorgeous, full of Edenic lap-dissolves, and was shot by Boris Kaufman, brother of Dziga Vertov.
• What an inspired site this is. (Thanks, Jim!)
• Other than being tenured profs, I'm not sure how much Powerprof and I have in common. (The other day, she opened a post with: "I'm 18 days late....did I not say that things would get interesting?"). And my life definitely does not have the soap-operatic sweep that hers does.