One thing I loathe almost as much as summer heat is summer movies. "So don't go," I'm told, but at the moment it's 97 F in the shade and the easiest way to beat soaring temperatures is to duck into a movie theater, so...Deadpool & Wolverine. At least the poster looks colorful.
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(Warning: plot twists discussed in explicit detail)
Alan J. Pakula's The Parallax View, inspired by the assassinations of both John and Robert Kennedy is perhaps not the best film on the subject-- arguably near the top is Fred Zinneman's Day of the Jackal, a lean hide-n-seek thriller about a coldblooded Englishman (but are there any other kind?) plotting to shoot President Charles de Gaulle; on the apex sits John Frankenheimer's The Manchurian Candidate, about an American vice-presidential candidate doubling as Russian agent (Hilarious idea! Now where have we seen that before?) plotting to assume top spot by having his running mate killed (?!).
Arguably this film isn't even Pakula's best-- I'd nominate All the President's Men for the honor, the director's crackerjack smart adaptation of Woodward and Bernstein's bestselling account of the Watergate Hotel burglary, and the consequent investigation that helped pull down the Nixon Administration.
That said, and despite the inherently silly premise (all-powerful secret organization grooming political assassins), the bizarre bits peppering the narrative, I call this Pakula's most emblematic film, and lemme explain why--
Watching The Coffee Table-- picture the ugliest piece of furniture on the face of the earth, a pair of gilt nymphs loosely screwed to a gilt base arcing unsteadily towards each other (every time someone walks around, actually every time someone makes an emphatic move anywhere near, the furniture shudders as if flinching), supporting a reportedly unbreakable glasstop. Picture a chubby mustachioed salesman (Eduardo Antuna) looking up at his prospective customers, meekly if gamely trying to sell them on the table's virtues. Facing him on either side are Maria (Estafania de los Santos) and Jesus (David Pareja) and for the next five minutes they bicker-- Maria about how expensive and godawful tacky the furniture is (she's not wrong), Jesus on how he's spent the day following her and doing what she wants and their whole life-- insisting on having a child, naming the child (Cayetano, which he hates) has been devoted to making her happy. Now he wants a table, this table, for himself alone, just because.
X had Mia Goth's Maxine shooting a porn flick on a farm owned by elderly Pearl (also Mia Goth) the same time she's being stalked by a serial killer; Pearl as prequel to X sketches the eponymous woman's life as a young farmer's spouse in 1918, uncovering her dreams and frustrations and why Maxine's barebones film production outfit fascinates her so.
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Reading the introduction to David Bordwell’s Planet Hong Kong is like reading a friend’s letter on a rarely seen but fondly remembered common acquaintance. I’ve landed in the old Hong Kong International Airport (not all that terrifying if you’re fond of rollercoasters); I’ve walked down Nathan Road with its countless flashing neons and rushing pedestrians and clacking traffic lights (for the benefit of the visually impaired: slow beat when red, rapid tattoo when green). I’ve seen the Cultural Centre, a graceful hulk of maroon bathroom tiles that always ends up as photo background for every just-married couple to walk out of the Civil Registry. And walking to the back of the Centre, I always pause and take in the view-- the one and only breathtaking panorama of Hong Kong harbor with its choppy waves, toy ferryboats bobbing up and down, glass-and-steel towers raking the bellies of clouds.
Oh and yes I too have eaten in Chungking Mansion. Cheap food, and quite good--recommend the roast duck on rice with hot broth on the side.
