So good they named it nice

Watched Pretend It’s a City on Netflix and CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME? on Prime, and so I have nothing to show for it. That’s one problem with streaming services, if you’re (a) acquisitive and (b) like to frame-grab.

Netflix’s algorithm is so stupid that it never suggested the Scorsese-Leibovitz documentary series, despite my watching THE IRISHMAN, so I didn’t know about it until I read a letter in Sight & Sound complaining about the indifferent review it had received. I don’t believe S&S should bother printing letters in which readers complain about reviews they disagree with, because that’s dumb, but I was glad to learn of the series’ existence.

Unlike Scorsese-stamped things like the Bob Dylan series and the George Harrison series, this is (a) really interesting and (b) imbued with Scorsese’s personality, mainly because he’s in it, but also because the film clips and music are clearly more his sensibility than Fran Leibowitz’s. So you get a perfect blendship. One of the great pleasures of the show, which is FL’s observations on New York and life therein is the sight and sound of Scorsese hunched up with helpless mirth, almost constantly. A joyous thing.

Fiona had been keen to see CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME? since it came out but we hadn’t gotten to it. It’s really very good. Outstanding central perfs (Melissa McCarthy and Richard E. Grant carry pretty well every scene) and a lovely sense of the city. The soundtrack is beautifully chosen — like the Scorsese series, it’s eclectic (Scorsese casts his net wider than usual) but everything seems to marry together and forge a style.

CYEFM? should also be studied for the way it gets the viewer on the side of an “unsympathetic” character (actually she’s extremely sympathetic) and how it portrays someone in a miserable situation (capitalism, basically) without making the audience despondent, inclined to withdraw. Of course the rules of drama favour characters who find some means to struggle against what’s oppressing them, and therefore favour those who resort to crime… I was cheering the larcenous lead on all the way, saying to Fiona, “No, this is a good plan…”

So, now I like Marielle Heller not just as an actor but as a director, and the good news is I have a charity-shop-purchased DVD of A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD all ready to run.

Current Reading

I typically have a bunch of books open, most of them at page seventeen. I’m really enjoying Made Men, Glenn Kenny’s making-of GOODFELLAS book. There are books about RAGING BULL and TAXI DRIVER but I consider them trash, this one is the real gold. Every aspect of the film’s production, reception and influence, but also all the true crime stuff it’s derived from. Mental note: never attempt a monograph on any film that lacks a true crime angle.

It’s taken me ages to get near the finish but only because I had this feature film to make. Which turned out markedly longer than any of the films of the guy it’s about, so that’s an achievement of sorts. We didn’t have time to make it shorter.

But I’m also greatly enjoying Goin’ Crazy with Sam Peckinpah and All Our Friends, an “as told to” in which Robert Nott is being told and Max Evans is doing the telling. David Weddle’s Peckinpah biography, If They Move, Kill ‘Em!, is terrific, and often reads like a litany of atrocious behaviour that makes you laugh and wince at the same time, the literary-cinephile equivalent of being tickled with appendicitis. Well, the Max Evans memoir literally IS just a litany of atrocious behaviour. I’m only a few chapters in but Peckinpah has already tried to kill his friend. Resulting in Evans keeping an appointment the next day soaking wet, sine Peckinpah had chosen drowning as his method… Evans is admiring Gene Kelly’s art collection while squidging about in sodden cowboy boots.

The charity shops are open again

My favourite is St Columba’s Bookstore.

Kevin Brownlow’s book on Gance’s NAPOLEON is amazing — the wealth of stills, and detail. Breathtaking.

Maybe I’d see The Autobiography of British Cinema about in the past but hadn’t looked into it because I didn’t know what it was. It’s collected interviews in fact, with everyone from John Addison to Freddie Young. Lovely for dipping into. Here’s Wendy Hiller:

“Carol Reed was not an intellectual, he saw life entirely visually, through little squares, as did David Lean.”

Here’s Thora Hird, in her eighties (most of her stuff is grumbling about early mornings):

“I liked working with Larry [Olivier] because we got on well, but there were little things about him that annoyed me. For a start, if I had to do complimentaries (standing off-camera giving him my lines while the took his close-ups), I would have to be in at eight-thirty in the morning for make-up because Larry insisted everyone be in character, even if they weren’t on camera. I asked him about it, and he told me he couldn’t act to the character if he was looking at me — as me. I told him that everyone thought he could have done the scene without me even being there.”

Thora also says that she calls all her directors “Mr. De Grunwald,” “and they know I do it with respect.”

Glenn Mitchell’s A – Z of Silent Cinema is terrific. I had the feeling it might be useful sometime, also.

Charlton Heston’s memoir might also be useful for a potential upcoming project, but is interesting anyway. He seems like a dick, though.

Goddamn this War! is a WWI epic graphic novel by Jacques Tardi. Extremely grim and exhausting, but remarkable.

David Bordwell & Kristin Thompson’s Film History is sure to come in handy as well as being a readable and awe-inspiringly comprehensive work. I bought it because I’d never encountered the Sergio Leone quote where he calls Ennio Morricone “my scriptwriter.”

Three short stories by Shirley Jackson which I was almost certain I already owned in another collection, but the book was 50p and it turns out I was wrong. Read two last night and they’re excellent, of course.

Richard Schickel’s Conversations with Scorsese is fine and all, and covers stuff not in my copy of Scorsese on Scorsese. There are lots of bits where MS says something intriguing and I was rooting for RS to press him for more detail. No such luck.

Thurber’s Dogs. No explanation required, I assume.

Russell Hoban’s Turtle Diaries — I love Riddley Walker and liked several of his late books and am intrigued. Saw Ben Kingsley talk about making the film version once. Great talker, that man.

Irish Ghost Stories is tremendously fat, and has a very large amount of Sheridan LeFanu in it, which is no bad thing.

Movies: I hesitated about THE TRAIN on Blu-ray as I own a DVD but it’s a fine-looking film and the sterling array of extras provided by Arrow decided me. I didn’t hesitate on THE WILD BUNCH. I thought I owned THE ILLUSIONIST but didn’t, so now I do. TO THE SEA AND THE LAND BEYOND seems epic, and Penny Woolcock is revered among documentarists so I should check it out: the BFI provides quirky extras. THE WRONG BOX isn’t altogether satisfying but has great bits. I had an old DVD of LA DOLCE VITA in the wrong ratio so this is an upgrade.

Now I just have to find time to consume this stuff.