Category: Film Reviews and Analysis

  • Beyond Wishing: An Examination of Raphael Sbarge’s Documentaries

    When I first watched Only In Theaters the very first thing I wanted to do after it ended was go see a movie in a small, local theater and start to do so regularly. The urge sparked a bit of curiosity.  Specifically, I wanted to know – how was the call to action so very powerful?  That led me to look into the director, and what his other work was like.  I found that Raphael Sbarge’s documentary work features the common themes of community, sustainability, familial connection, the power of collective experiences, and the importance of service. This makes for a very heady combination – one powerful enough to inspire action.

    https://www.youtube.com/embed/Exu49lpcsQg?feature=oembed Only In Theaters Trailer.

    The story of Only In Theaters is, of course compelling – how else to describe a documentary that includes the very beginnings of Hollywood, a small family business, and a global pandemic?  There is a sweet coziness within that siren call to action.  

    I don’t want you to get me wrong – the Laemmles are an amazing family, their theaters are an institution, and their story is an incredible one that exemplifies so much of what I want America to be. 

    But, to make a good documentary takes more than just a good story. And to make one that inspires people to change their thought process or take action, (like inspiring an independent filmmaker to put together an entire film series), takes a good story in the hands of an adept and talented storyteller.

    The fact I was practically jumping out of my seat to see a movie in a local theater made it obvious to me that Only In Theaters is blessed with both.

    To show you what I mean, let’s just talk about the opening minute of Only In Theaters (I love analyzing the beginning of things – they are, after all, the time to make sure the balances are correct). 

    It opens with the sound of an orchestra tuning up before we hear three things – ‘welcome to the theater,’ ‘is cinema dying?’, and ‘ the movie theater is dead’ in rapid succession.  Yet the opening barrage lands on ‘what the hell is going to happen to movie theaters?’ These statements are immediately followed by Ava Duvernay talking about how important it was for her work to be seen in theaters. From there, images of movie theaters and headlines throughout the pandemic are interspersed with some of the interviews we’ll see throughout the film.  

    For every possible problem, a glimmer of hope as an antidote. The action of the images is ‘restricted’ to a laptop screen, with a movie theater visible beyond its edges. We slowly close in on it until the laptop partially fills the entirety of the frame – nearly blotting out the image of the movie theater.  A powerful visual symbol of the the rise of streaming.

    All of that in the first minute.

    To recap: before the title, there’s an orchestral warm up followed by a quick review of the themes, subjects, and players we’ll see throughout the movie. 

    It’s a perfectly executed overture to the documentary. 

    Who Puts Such a Perfectly Executed Overture In A Documentary?

    Someone who has spent most of their life storytelling and around storytellers, that’s who. So let’s talk about who Raphael Sbarge is for a bit.

    Raphael Sbarge, Image Source: Wishing Well Entertainment, Inc

    Raphael mentions in the director’s statement for Only in Theatersthat his father was an artist and filmmaker and his mother was a Broadway costume designer. He described how the Laemmles, a family involved with storytelling and art, immediately felt familiar to him.  It’s no wonder, coming from a family of storytellers.

    Raphael also has years of experience as an actor.  Exciting experience, no less. As a nerd, his imdb is an absolute treat. In an interview with him and Sujewa, I mentioned his multi-episode run in Star Trek: Voyager as the compelling and sympathetic, but I could have easily talked to him about some of his amazing voice over work in games like Mass Effect (or Knights of the Old Republic), or his role as Charles McGill, Sr. in Better Call Saul. His resume also includes major roles in series like The Guardian, Once Upon a Time, and Murder in the First. That doesn’t even touch his theatrical career.

    With someone so talented and dedicated, I don’t want to minimize or diminish his acting career because frankly it’s astonishing. He’s incredibly talented, versatile, and hard-working. But If I talked about all of that, it would overtake this article. 

    Just as with his acting, I could also spend a bit of time talking about his non-profit work.  Raphael initially founded a non-profit called “Green Wish,” inspired by the birth of his daughter and with the intent to support the community’s recognition of the efforts of local organizations.   As many nonprofits do, the work pivoted.  He describes the change in focus and mission as “With the success of all of these films, and with a growing awareness that we were being most effective with our film and media work, Green Wish’s mission has now changed. It is now focused on creating socially relevant content in an effort to do maximum good, to inspire and engage people to want to effect real change, through creating “content with a conscience.” In alliance with my production company, our hope is that the ideas and ideals of Green Wish will continue to do maximum good.” Wishing Well Entertainment, the production company he created and mentions in the above, is focused on projects with social relevance. His intent with these efforts are clear: to create thoughtful, educational content. 

    With that said, I don’t want to minimize or diminish his efforts in the nonprofit area, either. 

    In fact, his career in acting and his nonprofit focus both heavily influence his directing projects and  his storytelling style. 

    Since 2019 he’s been very busy behind the camera, helming several projects including two research-intense documentaries and capturing the revival of an extremely moving one-man play. I want to bring his documentary films from this period into particular focus, because in them I found a thematic thread – or several. 

    Before I get into the meat of all of this, I’d highly recommend you watch these amazing documentaries. They’re all linked in their respective sections to make it easy.  You’ll learn something and feel a lot of things.  And, I’m going to spoil a lot of what happens in them!

    2019 – LA Foodways

    ‘LA Foodways’ was created for KCET, a PBS affiliate using some funds that Raphael Sbarge’s non-profit, Green Wish, had received. The meticulously researched documentary explores Los Angeles’ history as a food production center – while examining its current status as the site of a massive food desert.  The documentary can be watched in its entirety here.

    ‘Foodways’ is a word used by social scientists to describe the social, cultural, and economic practices around food – its production, processing, and consumption.  ‘LA Foodways’ reminds viewers that until around 1950, Los Angeles was an extremely prolific center for food production.  Using interviews with Angelinos and interesting historic footage and images, the documentary explores not just the farms and the realities of the past – but how Los Angeles’ history as a food center helped shape its present dominance.

    LA Foodways features interviews with a multi-generational business, SGS Produce (Shapiro, Gilman, Shandler), a company that dates back to 1907. The educational mission of LA Foodways, however, isn’t just to make its audience realize that Los Angeles was once a major center of food production, or that there’s a multi-generational food wholesaler located there. The interviews it contains don’t just cover the history of the land, or the businesses – but instead examine the present realities of the food logistic situation in Los Angeles.  It also delves into people who are taking action while also educating viewers on the link between food waste and hunger.

    LA Foodways. Image Source: Wishing Well Entertainment.

    The documentary’s focus on FoodForward is a great organization to do just that.  FoodForward’s operations couple those in need with food that might otherwise have gone to waste. Rick Nahmias founded FoodForward after the heartbreaking election cycle of 2008 when Prop 8 was voted in.  Feeling overwhelmed by the nullification of his marriage by Prop 8, he decided to channel that energy in a positive way by working to improve his community.  He recognized the issues within his community, which at the time included long lines at the food pantries  due to the economic crisis of 2008. He noted that fresh produce, which often isn’t available to those at food pantries, was just a few steps away at food wholesalers. He found it hard to believe, and wondered if he could change it.

    Spoiler alert: He could, and he did.

    Beyond just seeing the success of FoodForward in their mission, It’s heartening to hear those from the wholesale side express their gratitude that the food can go on and be of use. As Rick Nahmias put it – ‘It’s not a supply problem – it’s a distribution problem.’  He points out that the food waste doesn’t just represent the wasted food – it represents so much more waste than we initially realize. It represents fertilizer, fuel, and dare I add – time.  

    The food doesn’t just represent what we’re about to eat – but the investment of thousands of valuable resources to bring it to the table.

    The power of LA Foodways is that it isn’t just focused on the intriguing history of LA as farmland or the myriad of implications of today’s food waste – the documentary is anchored by those working to change it.  We follow some of the volunteers as they redistribute the food, and get to hear from people who have helped distribute it for decades, bringing us closer narratively to those making positive changes – and giving us the stories of what inspired them to start, and what inspires them to keep going. Watching inspired people is inspiring. 

    The documentary also spends time showing the work and community engagement and dedication of the Watts Labor Community Action Committee (WLCAC), which hosts a bi-monthly food distribution event. The bi-monthly event is hugely helpful, and supports the mission of WLCAC to improve the quality of life of those who live in Watts and those in the surrounding areas. We learn about the mission of WLCAC through seeing its events, and the words of Tim Watkins, the current President – and son of WLCAC’s founder, Ted Watkins, Sr. LA Foodways discusses the Watts riots, the community engagement of Watts, and how instrumental WLCAC’s mission and work was to helping the members of the community, especially through the creation of a garden.

    Fresh food, fresh produce – a vital part of human survival – often isn’t available in food deserts. Instead, impoverished communities are forced to shop at discount food retailers who specialize in multiple colors of sugar water, and not wholesome food. When looking at the dire situations that LA Foodways examines they could feel overwhelming and even grim. Since those histories and stories are served alongside the narratives of those who are trying to change things for the better, the overall tone is, instead, hopeful.

    It is through the action of those working to change their communities and their relentless hope for a better world that LA Foodways tells its story. In using the past to inform an understanding of the present, it also presents hope for the future.

    2019 – 2022 – Only In Theaters

    Raphael Sbarge started filming the Laemmle family for his documentary Only In Theaters starting in 2019, when Greg Laemmle started to consider options to sell the family business. That wouldn’t be the only set of challenges to befall the business before the documentary’s end. (You can stream Only In Theaters here.)

    Only In Theaters opens with that lovely overture we examined earlier, and then starts with Raphael talking about what the Laemmle theaters meant to him, and how screening his film for an audience was everything. Perusing the family wall in the theater led him to learn more about the Laemmles, a family that has been in the movie business since the movie business grew from the nickelodeon theaters. While he wasn’t sure what the story would be, he wanted to try and capture some of it while there was still time.

    We then spend time with the Laemmle family during Shabbat and Greg relates the importance of the family business to his life, even though it wasn’t originally his intent to work for the theaters.  From there the story blooms as others add their voices to the story of the Laemmle Theaters and the family that runs them. Ava Duvernay relates how important Laemmle was to creating her artistic sensibilities, and the importance of seeing a movie in a place like Laemmle. She reminds us that independent and arthouse cinema experiences are important not only to filmmakers, but to those who love film as well. 

    It is Greg Laemmle himself who tells us the story of the Laemmle family’s move from Stuttgart, Germany into the Nickelodeon business in the US, and his ancestor’s fight against Edison (who held a patent that required all Nickelodeons to pay him for use of his technology).  Eventually, the Supreme Court would side with Laemmle, and the movie business then flourished. 

    One of the parts that stays with me from Only in Theaters is the interview with Alyse, who was married to Kurt Laemmle, one of the founders of Laemmle Theater.  She is a delight to listen to, and her love for Kurt is obvious when she talks about him. 

    It is directly after that that the story Raphael was looking for begins to develop.  As streaming impacted the Laemmle theaters, Greg Laemmle began considering the idea of selling the chain.  While similar challenges had been presented to theaters with the introduction of television, streaming seemed to be taking more of a hold – and expenses were mounting.  Instead of just having Greg talk about the business issues in his office, he’s captured talking about them as he prepares food for the family. He chats about the quality of the arugula while talking about the possible demise of his family’s business. It’s his vulnerability in this family space, while sharing his fears with his wife, Tish, that brings us as viewers even closer. 

    Only In Theaters poster. Image Source: Wishing Well Entertainment.

    It feels like this is the story. Because it’s obvious that the Laemmle theaters, while important to the community, are causing a huge toll to Greg’s health.  The sale seems imminent. The blow of this fact is cushioned by the realization that Greg’s life is suspended in stressful animation – and that perhaps the sale has the potential to bring peace to his life. Part of this stress is because Greg Laemmle is dedicated to operating the screens for the city – and not for the bottom line. Instead of building out their books, the Laemmle’s dedication has been creating a space for independent movies, and to give unknown directors a venue to have their movie screened. His mission, and ultimately that of his theater, is in showing work that should be seen – not just grabbing for dollars. 

    When Greg Laemmle makes the announcement at the end of 2019 that they would be retaining ownership, it feels like a slam-dunk victory. But the celebrations would be short-lived.  

    Because 2020 happened, and the rest of the documentary deals with the impacts of the pandemic on the Laemmle theaters, and Greg’s concerns and fears following COVID-19’s toll on his business.  As he steers his business through the fraught waters of the ever-changing world, we get a full portrait of the burdens and joys of his legacy. 

    And while he jokes that his legacy is in allowing Tommy Wiseau to screen ‘The Room,’ it’s much larger than that. The movie has been dedicated to ensuring that we know the exact scope and importance of the Laemmle Theater’s legacy – and ultimately, Greg’s.  Only In Theaters is an effective reminder that the  importance of local theaters to the community in general, and to the artistic community in particular, can’t be understated.  

    While streaming can offer a place to see a movie, it can’t offer the movie-going experience.  The movie-going experience is Only In Theaters. By the time the credits roll, you’ll crave nothing but an indie movie in an arthouse cinema. (Or more!)

    2023: 10 Days in Watts

    10 Days in Watts  premiered earlier this year on PBS. The series is separated into four episodes: one called “Legacy,” the second called “We Are Taught to Survive,” a third named “Watts Pride,” and the final installment is “A Garden Grows in Watts.”  You can watch all four episodes here.

    10 Days in Watts is about the preparations that the WLCAC (remember them?)  is undertaking in order to throw a grand opening for Mudtown Farms.  While the event may be the goal, its  larger interest is in  the exceptional work of WLCAC. Mudtown Farms was originally acquired by the WLCAC in 2005, and they intended to create an urban farm / park that would allow people to find peace, in addition to growing the sort of food and produce that people need in the middle of a food desert.  

    The Mudtown Farms project was important to Tim Watkins in particular as it presented a possible way for him to extend the legacy of his father, WLCAC founder Ted Watkins, Sr. We are treated to  interview footage of Ted Watkins Sr. talking about his experiences in creating the WLCAC, in addition to information about his impact in the community. Tim is adamant that he’s not looking to fill his father’s shoes – in fact he’s sure he can’t.  Instead, he wants to honor his father’s memory by setting an example for people.  

    10 Days in Watts also doesn’t shy away from the hard realities that those working to lift Watts have faced. A conversation between Tim Watkins and Donny Joubert (President of the Watts Gang Task Force) revealed that after the Watts truce was realized by four gangs in 1992, authorities and organizations that had promised help disappeared. This left community organizers to their own devices to ensure the success of the treaty by supporting their community. Their conversation makes it clear they want to ensure that the next generation doesn’t feel discouraged, and instead sees the power of the community and its elders behind them.

    ‘We are Taught to Survive’ focuses on the Watts survival mentality. The last episode closed on the idea that survival in Watts was activism, and this installment explores that idea.  Darryl Everett Jones, Sr. talks about this mentality, and also stresses the importance of the work. He expresses the importance of how we start our day: that each minute contains possibilities and potential – and that the wasted time on snoozing our alarms could be the very moments we need the most.

    Enrique Vasquez (aka Kiki Smooth), a Latino rapper who was born and raised in Compton, spent a lot of time of his youth at Watts with his grandmother.  He and his partner Brandon Jackson (known as “Main Event”) do a weekly podcast from Watts as a way to encourage people to not be afraid to come to Watts, and to increase the understanding that Watts is a neighborhood about caring for each other and lifting each other up.

    That’s a commonality in all of the interviews – the passion, the dedication, and the value of service.  In one of them, Janine Watkins expressed that at Watts as a child, she was loved – and by loving that community and the people in it, it was a way of reaching back into her past with love. 

    Throughout the episodes, it becomes clear that everyone recognizes the importance of passing an understanding of nature to the next generation. How else will someone raised in the urban landscape learn to be an effective steward of the Earth – and what will our fate be if it’s not taught?

    ‘Watts Pride” focuses on the deep feeling of pride that the residents of Watts and those who care for it feel for it. It spends most of its time introducing people who are working their way to positions where they can help Watts, the place they love.

    It opens with sober information: Watts is in the 95th percentile of the most polluted communities, and there are census tracts labeled in the 100th percentile.  Many homes are still serviced by lead pipes, and even airplanes dump fuel over Watts. A nearby lead smelting plant pushed Watts’ lead exposure issues far above safe levels. Around 20% of Watts homes have water that contains actionable levels of lead. 

    I had to pause the documentary just to sit with that and process it.

    PhD candidates Malcolm Jones and Danielle Hoague mention how Tim Watkins helped inspire them to fight for Watts – and to help hand the fight over to the next generation.  As Malcolm worked on the Watts lead information, he found that there were reporting issues that blended Watts information with information from more affluent communities, effectively burying the issues with Watts’ lead exposure.  Danielle explained that while many people had heard of Flint Michigan, America was full of them needing attention: and Watts is one.

    People like Johanna Rodriquez, who grew up in Watts and now works for the Mayor Los Angeles, are working to ensure that Watts gets the attention it so badly needs.  Johanna talked about the sort of work her father did to help the community, and she, like many in this documentary, continues his work by assisting her community via her work and her advocacy in attempting to erase the stereotypes of Watts.

    Michael Krikorian, a writer whose work has been featured in LA Weekly, relates how he was ‘assigned’ the Watts beat – and how he worked to gain the trust of the community so he could learn more about the people there. Watts is a place bursting with stories to be told – and they are far more rich and meaningful than many would give them credit for. 

    The episode ‘A Garden Grows in Watts’ emphasizes the importance of the WLCAC in general and Watts in particular. By exploring the stories of those who love and work for the betterment of Watts, we’re treated to an even more complete view of the neighborhood and how it helps those who work for it purpose, passion, and drive.

    The people we meet and the stories we hear emphasize the importance of a good community to support children and the next generation. Part of this importance comes down to Watt’s power to transform, and people who were able to come back to Watts and build a life after prison talk about the transformative experiences they had, and how the Watts community allowed them to use their experiences to help heal the next generation. 

    LoneAllen Hall, the Nutritional Director for WLCAC talks about his many years working for WLCAC, beginning in the 1970’s for Ted Watkins, Sr. himself.  He relates how important it is for him to pass on the sorts of lessons he got in the kitchen for those who work for him.  He also discusses how Watkins would always have work to be done for those looking to work, and how that created opportunities for young people to have experience in work that ultimately went back into their community. It’s through his interview that we learn the nutritional programs at WLCAC serve over 400,000 seniors a year (around 2200 a day). 

    A large portion of the episode is dedicated to the preparations for MudTown Farms’ big day. It’s a huge event celebrating the past and the future of Watts – and includes everything from delicious food to pony rides. During the celebrations, there are reminders that the purpose of MudTown Farms is to pass the knowledge of the Earth on to the next generation, and to celebrate the work and mission of the WLCAC. 

    The story ends on a note of hope by showing the passion and courage of those fighting for Watts, and how well-positioned the diligent and loving organization is to create a green space where there once was a food desert.

    Overall Observations: Themes

    At first, it might feel like there are two documentaries about food and one about theaters, but that’s not what I see happening here.  I find that there are five major themes that Raphael Sbarge’s documentary work focuses on: familial connection, community, sustainability, the power of collective experiences, and the importance of service. 

    Familial Connection

    All three of these documentaries are anchored by familial connections.  In “LA Foodways” we are first introduced to Tim Watkins, the current President of WLCAC and the son of Ted Watkins, Sr.,  its founder. In this piece, Tim talks about the importance of extending his father’s work..  It also features the multi-generational SGS Produce  Only in Theaters has the Laemmle family as the center of its focus, and the legacy that Greg carries for his family (and the family of filmmakers everywhere rooting for him).  The documentary not only spends time with Greg and his immediate family, but his delightful great aunt Alyse, who helps bring the family’s legacy into sharp focus.  10 Days in Watts continues to examine how Tim Watkins carries his father’s legacy by growing the WLCAC’s reach while staying ever true to its mission, and though he doesn’t feel he’s capable of filling his father’s shoes, he’s shown to be more than capable of extending and expanding his father’s vision.  In many instances it’s obvious that Watts itself, as a place, is seen as a type of family to those who love it.

    Community

    In all three of the documentaries examined, community plays a vital role.  In all three, the focus is on people serving their community.  For LA Foodways, the focus is on groups like WLCAC and FoodForward as they deal with mobilizing around food waste in one of the country’s largest food deserts.  Only In Theaters is focused on Greg Laemmle in particular and the Laemmle theaters in general.  It explores how art house cinemas not only support filmmakers and their craft, but are important gathering places for the community and places of collective experience.  10 Days in Watts spotlights the exceptional work of WLCAC as they prepare for a large venture: the opening of MudTown Farms. 

    All three of these documentaries examine how those interviewed are working in service to their community, and are mindful of its needs and challenges.  In all three, Interviews with members of the community are mixed in with those working to help them: whether they are a community built of members of a neighborhood like Watts, or a community of cinema-lovers and filmmakers. 

    Sustainability

    For LA Foodways and 10 Days in Watts, the documentaries that center on food, it’s a bit easier to see how they directly relate to sustainability.  LA Foodways emphasizes the importance of minimizing food waste, and working with organizations that seek to do the same.  10 Days in Watts shows how neighborhoods and communities can be served and transformed by green space – that creating such spaces allows for communities to gather, care for each other, and take pride.  Both of these documentaries clearly deal with the need to create more sustainable systems for food. 

    But Only In Theaters is about sustainability, too – it’s about the sustainability of our culture. While streaming a movie can show us some pieces of the experience, the whole of the movie-going experience can only be experienced in a theater. Losing the voice of independent filmmakers would leave us at the mercy of the big studios, drowning out marginalized and new voices. While our news feeds are clogged with bad news and collective traumas, movie theaters allow us a space in which we can share collective events and more joyful experiences with our community.

    Power of Collective Experiences

    Raphael Sbarge’s documentary work also examines the power of those collective experiences.  It’s the easiest to prove with Only in Theaters, as it is directly concerned with the preservation of spaces where collective experiences can happen. Several interviews mention the importance of seeing a movie, live, with an audience.  Anyone who has been to a movie event, such as Wiseau’s The Room or the classic “Rocky Horror Picture Show” can also attest to the power that a collective movie-going experience can have. 

    But it’s there in the other two as well. In 10 Days in Watts, the power of collective experience is examined throughout – we see the importance for this community to come together, assert their identity, and cultivate pride. LA Foodways shows the power of collective experience by examining what happens when people come together to solve problems, and how collective action across many organizations can bring positive change. 

    Importance of Service

    The biggest and most important theme of Raphael Sbarge’s work is the importance of service. All three of these documentaries show the power and importance of service in a community.  In LA Foodways, several organizations come together to serve the underserved.  They seek to ensure that as many people as possible have access to fresh produce, especially in a land of such abundance that we throw away edible food.

    In Only in Theaters, Greg Laemmle’s service to filmmakers as a bastion of the art house world is shown to often tear him apart mentally, and take a toll on him physically.  While many businesses exist only to serve their bottom line, Greg strives to ensure that filmmakers get the support they need to make their art: even when it might cost him a few night’s sleep. 

    10 Days in Watts examines the service of many members of the Watts community that interact with WLCAC’s exceptional work.  Ted Watkins Sr.’s work not only transformed Watts, but inspired his son to take up the cause and continue and extend that work.  The impact of their service on the Watts community can’t be understated. 

    What’s it All Mean?

    When I was younger and I read the book ‘Dune’ I was extremely struck by the phrase ‘I exist to serve.’ I remember saying that to a friend and being laughed at.  What a strange thing, I thought, to want to make fun of someone for that.  Doesn’t everyone need service at some point of their lives?  Or is it part of the American psyche that we’ve lost touch with our needs – that we subsume them to instead chase the impossible rugged individualism we’re sold along with the American Dream.  

    I am one of the sorts of people to whom Carnegie’s libraries meant more than his steel or business acumen, and I know I can’t be alone. 

    That’s why I found it joyful to find a documentarian that is less obsessed with our seedy side, and more entranced by bringing our best attributes to the light.  Instead of focusing on the dire situation of food waste or the destruction of an industry via the dominance of streaming, or the constant fight it takes to support and bring Watts into the limelight  – Raphael Sbarge focuses on those who are trying to bring positive change to their world.  Is it any wonder that two of his organizations include the word “Wish?”

    It’s a beautiful thing, to see someone shining a light on the work of those trying to transform our world for the better.  It’s inspiring, and the attention that his work has brought to some of these organizations has been extraordinary for them.  I am so heartened to see stories like this told, and I’m grateful to Raphael for telling them so well. 

    If you’re looking for something that will not only uplift you but inspire you, I highly recommend you check his work out!

  • Phantom of The Paradise

    A Cult Classic That Pairs Well With cannabis.

    The 70’s were a crazy time, and in 1974, Brian De Palma wasn’t famous yet — but Paul Williams sure was, and the two of them teamed up to create The Phantom of Paradise. I don’t want to insult anyone’s intelligence about what a king Paul Williams is, but he wrote things like … A Star is Born and … ‘Tiptoe through the Tulips’, and probably any Carpenters song you really liked. He also worked with my personal favorites, the Muppets, and co-wrote “The Rainbow Connection.” Side note — he’s recently co-written and performed songs with Daft Punk…because Phantom of The Paradise inspired Daft Punk.

    Paul Williams’ career was ON FIRE in the year this movie was made, but Brian DePalma was just getting started after a few years of making documentary films and was trying to make his break in Hollywood (Carrie was still a couple of years away).

    Ends up, that is a great formula for movie magic.

    The Phantom of the Paradise takes the story of Phantom of the Opera and shoves it into the story of Faust and spices it with a hint of Little Mermaid, and then paints it with a bit of … Dorian Gray. It’s a rock opera horror comedy that predates Rocky Horror Picture Show. Brian DePalma both wrote and directed, and Paul Williams added the music and swagger. The movie went on to be nominated for an Oscar and a Golden Globe for the music.

    It is transcendent.

    The pace at which DePalma is able to lay out the complex plot is staggering, but the film itself never feels overly rushed or dense. It’s possible this is because it’s so archetypal (a testament to the writing and the amazing production overall). There’s a part of me that would love to see a Phantom of The Paradise Tarot Deck. The sets, scenery and costumes are so on-point and perfect that I’d love to see more people dress as these characters.

    Swan will steal your music and then take your teeth. Actual plot points. Also note Swan’s strong waistcoat / shirt pairings. Image Owned by 20th Century Fox.

    Swan, our devil, is a record producer and pretty talented sound engineer / sound mixer and fashion icon whose glasses tint always matches his clothes. I guess being the devil has privileges. It’s important that Swan is scummy as fuck to boot, because packed inside of this fun movie is a scathing comment on the brutality of the music industry in particular and the entertainment industry in general (trust me it’s still timely). How could there be Faust without a devil? Williams is over the top and has his dial tuned perfectly to licentiousness.

    The movie opens with a voiceover read by none other than Rod Serling. It explains that Swan, a legend with an unknown past (*cough* devil *cough*), is looking for the new sound, something to replace the nostalgia wave his band, the Juicy Fruits (name is oh-so bubblegum appropriate!), ushered in. We’re introduced to our protagonist, Winslow Leach (played by William Finley), as he pastes his name onto a poster of the Juicy Fruits, before taking the stage after them to perform.

    Oh, Winslow. I’m sorry for the absolute madness that’s about to happen. Image Owned by 20th Century Fox.

    Swan listens to Winslow’s performance and knows the music would be perfect to open his new concert hall, The Paradise, so he sends his henchman to steal it. They use the ruse that Swan will produce it. Winslow gives in even though it’s obvious that Swan’s goon Philbin doesn’t understand the scope of his music — that it’s more than a single song, it’s an entire work. Winslow IS, however, super clear that he doesn’t want the Juicy Fruits to sing it (it’s obvious he’s not a fan. Really very obvious.)

    We all know Swan doesn’t give a fuck, right? So Winslow tries to find out what’s going on after being ghosted for a month — and it so happens that Swan is running ‘auditions’ for Winslow’s Faust. The Weinstein style auditions. While there, Winslow discovers Phoenix (played by pre-Suspiria Jessica Harper) singing his work and loves hearing her sing it — but is pissed as hell that his name has been removed from it.

    What’s fascinating about this interpretation of the Phantom story is the time that we spend with the character before his scarring. Even Phoenix (Christine / Maguerite for you Phantom / Faust fans) interacts with him before he is scarred. This allows for her to have a subsequent recognition of him in a later moment that I’m not even going to talk about.

    Pathos!

    The other interesting thing: we also see the moment he’s scarred — when Winslow tries to break into Swan’s mansion a second time he’s beaten up, framed for drugs, and sent to Sing-Sing. It’s there that his teeth are extracted and replaced with metal ones, courtesy of a Swan Foundation program aimed at reducing infections in the prison population (so many timely comments).

    It is also in Sing-Sing that he hears his Faust being sung by the Juicy Fruits at which point he snaps, loses his shit, and goes on a prison-escaping rampage that ends with his face in a record press at Swan’s headquarters. The accident also crushes his vocal cords.

    Winslow then sneaks into The Paradise’s costume department and crafts his new look.

    Winslow’s new look: metallic teeth and awesome mask. Image Owned by 20th Century Fox.

    I don’t want to go too much farther, because I think the delight of the movie is in seeing it. But I do feel like I’m really doing the movie a disservice if I don’t show you who the movie’s ‘Carlotta’ is (who Swan selects to sing Winslow’s Faust just to piss him off). It’s a character named Beef played by Gerrit Graham.

    Gerrit Graham as Beef. Image Owned by 20th Century Fox.

    I have to point out Beef . . . because talk about scene-stealing.

    I also want to say: the movie’s chandelier scene is such an amazing interpretation, and the Psycho shower scene is unforgettable.

    Phantom of the Paradise is ridiculous, beautiful, and earnest in all of the best ways. It’s fun, thoughtful, has some really banging music, and is laugh out loud funny. It is an amazing 90 minute ride and if you missed it like I did, it’s a fun 90 minutes. I understand why it’s often in a double feature with Rocky Horror Picture Show, I just wish I had managed to see one myself so I would have discovered this gem earlier!

    https://cdn.embedly.com/widgets/media.html?src=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FT9yof8cwli4%3Ffeature%3Doembed&display_name=YouTube&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DT9yof8cwli4&image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2FT9yof8cwli4%2Fhqdefault.jpg&key=a19fcc184b9711e1b4764040d3dc5c07&type=text%2Fhtml&schema=youtubeHere’s the Trailer at You Tube.

  • What I Did With The Shadows

    How What We Do In The Shadows and enough IFS to be dangerous helped me negotiate a cease-fire with my inner critic.

    What We Do In The Shadows, promotional image. Image owned by FX.

    Like countless others, one of the ways that I have dealt with the trauma of my past is writing about it. I have been engaging in a pretty relentless (heh) self-inventory as part of a long-term journey towards healing over the past several years. As part of that I’ve read dozens of books covering the subject of trauma, positive self-talk, and other such subjects. I’ve examined how I carry trauma and which ‘personality quirks’ of mine are actually trauma responses. Few pieces of media have been as helpful or insightful to me as one of Nadja’s storylines on FX’s What We Do In The Shadows.

    FX’s series What We Do In The Shadows is based on the Jemaine Clement / Taika Waititi movie of the same name. Instead of following New Zealand vampires like the movie does, the television series mainly follows four vampires (and Guillermo) who live in Staten Island.

    Initially, Darren and I started watching because we’d seen Mark Proksch (Colin Robinson) before. Not only are we fans of The Office, but his episodes in Better Call Saul are unforgettable and lead us to find his yo-yo shenanigans. We caught a couple of clips of the show online and then decided to plunge right in. The absolute absurd hilarity of vampires in modern life was exactly the sort of media we needed.

    I’m a sucker for anything that includes inventive costuming, so it was no surprise that I fell for Natasia Demetriou’s character Nadja. The beautiful Nadja of Antipaxos spends a large amount of time making everything funnier and more Victorian-looking.

    Nadja’s ghost inhabits a doll, from Season 2 Episode 2, Ghosts, of What We Do In The Shadows. Image owned by FX.

    In Ghosts, the second episode of season 2, the vampires deal with a ghost infestation of their Staten Island mansion. Each ghost has unfinished business. In Nadja’s case, her ghost is hanging around to see Nadja achieve something. At first, the two bicker pretty horribly. After all, Nadja’s ghost has been hanging around, watching Nadja waste her life! The two eventually realize how similar they are, and Nadja decides she wants her ghost to stay with her. They decide that Nadja’s ghost should inhabit a doll found in the attic.

    This was such a brilliant move for many reasons. First, it allows Natasia an additional character to play. Second, the doll is unendingly cute, and seeing how the costumers and stylists make sure that she matches human-sized Nadja is always a delight.

    Look at how cute she is! Nadja-doll with her bindle, about to leave the vampire home in Season 3, Episode 7, “The Siren.” Image owned by FX.

    Up until episode 7 of season 3, ‘The Siren,’ Nadja-doll is very much attached to Nadja and her point of view (though there is a hilarious moment between Nadja-doll and Colin Robinson). In ‘The Siren’, which documents a particularly challenging time for Nadja, Nadja is seen completely neglecting Nadja-doll, who decides she doesn’t like feeling like an extra puzzle pieces (puzzles don’t work that way!), and strikes out on her own. Eventually this results in a surreal chase as the doll leaps from object to object as Nadja follows after her, begging for her to return. After a heartfelt conversation, Nadja’s ghost goes back to the doll, and the two are happily reunited. Afterwards, as Nadja and her ghost debrief for the mockumentary cameras, Nadja comments that in her quest to be seen as a leader, she neglected her sweet doll, that she saw as being a part of her own awesome personality.

    That was the moment the light went on for me. It made me think of this podcast with Tim Ferris and the developer of Internal Family Systems form of therapy, Richard Schwartz. During this podcast, Tim Ferris bravely submitted to a session with Richard Schwartz, during which he talked to one of his ‘parts.’

    ‘Parts’ are a way of recognizing that there are elements of a trauma-impacted personality that will engage in sometimes unwanted behaviors to try and protect the ‘self’ from damage. Mediating between all of these parts is the ‘self.’ The thing I managed to realize, thanks to Nadja and her doll, was that the inner critic part of me — the part relentlessly frustrated with my lack of progress in anything and everything — was ultimately just trying to help.

    Before I had seen those episodes, I couldn’t even try to figure out how to work with such a harsh inner critic — I could only see how to spend time in a trauma loop with it. Seeing Nadja and her doll find a way forward gave me an idea of how I could move forward, and how I could find a way that I could learn to embrace what she had to say.

    Bonus, now my inner critic has Natasia Demetriou’s Nadja voice.

    Nadja and Nadja-doll from FX’s What We Do In The Shadows. Image owned by FX.
  • Pondering Amir Motlagh’s 2018 MAN in 2021

    Poster for MAN by Amir Mortlagh — Image used with Permission.

    Amir Motlagh’s MAN is a beautifully shot, prescient meditation on the nature of the human experience and of connectedness in increasingly disconnected times. The film moves through a mantra of daily activities before accelerating towards an emotionally impactful ending. I’m going to admit I wasn’t expecting to emotionally connect with this film the way I did, but the impact of the movie left me in tears, grateful for the experience.

    It’s hard for me to express just how important I think its message is. COVID has taught us all the challenges of isolation, interaction — and, seemingly paradoxically, isolated interaction — and MAN is adept at showing the profound absurdity of it. I’ve been thinking about what, exactly, to say about this movie after sitting with it. I don’t know how to talk about how or why it moved me without getting into particulars, and I don’t think that fits with the entire spirit of the film. The longer I’ve pondered it, the more the themes and imagery have expanded in my mind, and trying to pin them down would be foolish.

    Some stories are in the experiencing.

    Establish the technology in nature themes early. Lovely shot from MAN by Amir Motlagh. Image used with Permission.

    The opening shots of MAN move between trees, homes, and power lines before opening up into a shot of Los Angeles as we listen to Arman’s day begin. In a few moments, we are attached to him and will spend a majority of the film connected to him via the camera itself as he goes through his day.

    Arman (Amir Motlagh) works from home in the Laurel Canyon in the Hollywood Hills. He mainly interacts with people via his computer and other varied screens around him. In 2018, Arman’s life at the Laurel Canyon, separate from most except for his connection through screens, would have seemed far more strange than it does now. In the post-lockdown world, this experience is much more common, which makes a lot of the feelings explored in the movie something that we can all relate to.

    One of MAN’s stars, Roscoe. MAN (Amir Mortlagh). Image used with permission.

    For most of the movie, Arman’s main physical companions are his dogs and voices emanating from screens that arise from various interruptions. The strange intrusiveness of unwanted connections amid the struggle for meaningful connection is one of the key feelings within the film — and something that all of us are more readily able to relate to thanks to the realities of our current lives.

    What makes MAN extraordinary is how much it gives back to the viewer after asking so little. A small investment rendered hours of consideration and contemplation of how the movie was so effective at presenting the strange world we inhabit — where all of our social connections have the feeling of parasocial, and leave us too soon and before something with more depth can be created.

    Rachel Sciacca as Des in MAN by Amir Motlagh. Image used with Permission.

    The visual and emotional world of MAN is extraordinary, and the first part of the film created a meditative state so that by the time disarming and charming Des (Rachel Sciacca) appeared, I was as fascinated and curious about her as Arman was.

    MAN is a fascinating movie that turns the message on the viewer, asking about the essence of relationship our relationship to technology and how it dictates, shapes, and shifts our other relationships. It is one of a trilogy of movies called the “Three Marks, Too Many Signals” series. Given the impact I felt from MAN, I’ll be sure to check out the others.

    If you dig slow cinema and films that allow you to meet interesting characters while asking you important questions about the nature of technology’s impact on our relationships and selves — MAN might be exactly what you’re looking for in a movie!

    Watch MAN Online | Vimeo On Demand

    MAN is a vertité-style day-in-the-life story about a computer programmer who lives a secluded existence in L.A.’s…

    vimeo.comMAN

    MAN is rated R.

  • A Most Unusual Schooling: Cultivating Happiness and Other Spiritual Lessons in The Secret Society For Slow Romance

    When I first watched The Secret Society For Slow Romance, I loved it for a few reasons. It felt happy and joyous. It is a kind movie. I felt as though it had some important teachings to impart to viewers. It contains a lot of information for those looking to embark on independent filmmaking, and it contains important messages about cultivating and creating happiness. These lessons are part of the driver of Rene’s behavior throughout the movie and are part of the magical end. The Secret Society for Slow Romance explores how spiritual concepts interact with artists who are process-driven and those that are product-driven. The New York City of The Secret Society For Slow Romance is a world of magical realism that allows for the movie’s joyous exploration of the power of limitless goodwill.

    The Secret Society For Slow Romance – Image by Sujewa Ekanayake, Used with Permission.

    With that said – there are spoilers ahead: if you’ve not yet seen the movie, watch it here.

    The Four Brahmaviharas

    ‘There’s this new thing I’m into that I’m kind of excited about, it’s called the Four Brahmaviharas,’

    In this, the very first spoken line of the entire film, Rene introduces the concept of the Four Brahmaviharas to Allyson. I remember laughing at it the first time because I knew the four Buddhist virtues were far from ‘new.’ In case you, like Allyson (and me!), didn’t learn about them in school, the Four Brahmaviharas are also called ‘the four immeasurables.’ There are lots of names for them because they are a key concept. Rene calls them the “Houses of the Gods,” which is another way of saying Brahma and vihara (divine abodes). ‘The Four Brahmaviharas’ describes the states of the gods, who were beings of unlimited amounts of loving-kindness, compassion, empathetic joy, and equanimity. Buddhism teaches that cultivating these virtues is essential to creating happiness.

    Rene states at the beginning of the movie that he’s been ‘getting into them’: the rest of the movie demonstrates how Rene integrates these virtues into his work, life, and habits. Rene’s opening explanation of them to Allyson (and the audience) is part of that practice.

    First, it’s key to understand how these four virtues lead to the cultivation of happiness. The first and fundamental virtue to cultivate is goodwill, which is wanting happiness for others (‘willing good’ if you will). Even your enemies. Practicing goodwill eclipses a simple thought of goodness in someone’s general direction: the true application of goodwill challenges us to visualize the recipients of goodwill as not only succeeding and being happy but also avoiding causes of unhappiness. 

    When goodwill encounters someone who is suffering, it expresses the next virtue – compassion. Compassion is the virtue that will want to intervene in the suffering of others to make it stop. 

    If goodwill encounters someone who is happy, the virtue expresses itself as empathetic joy. This means sharing in the happiness of others and wanting it to continue. Equanimity is the wisdom of understanding which to apply to what situation (and how?) by approaching the situation in a state of calm and even mind. It is a way to temper/direct the others and keep them in check. 

    Karma has a lot of lessons packed in it – one is that we experience things like happiness and sorrow based on a combination of our past and present intentions. Another, extending from that one, is that we are architects of our happiness and suffering, and so are other people. The way that you can help other people to be happy is to give them the tools to create their happiness. If one is engaged with the Four Brahmaviharas, they will be very interested in helping others to achieve happiness – and extend moments of joy.

    Massive Positivity, Meditation, and Grounding

    When Allyson asks if these approaches reduce stress, Rene details some of the ways he embraces these practices. ‘At the end of the day, wish everyone well: friends, family, enemies, hope that everyone has an easy life.’ He talks about meditation. He then outlines his massive positivity thinking practice, “I think about 1,000 positive things about the universe, 100 personal accomplishments and 10 mistakes, my own mistakes, that keeps me kind of calm and grounded and all that stuff keeps me happy every day.”

    Wow, that’s a lot indeed, Allyson.

    In this opening scene, Rene not only gives Allyson the tools to architect her happiness he hands her a physical manifestation of that in the form of the microphone (and ‘some other things for the shoot’). Rene states that his filmmaking processes are driven by the happiness they create, and not the products that they produce. This is repeatedly contrasted to Allyson’s relentless production. When Allyson asks him how his career is in Chapter One, Rene goes to great lengths to explain how measures his career in terms of happiness. 

    Rene outlines how his measurement of happiness and his goals have changed over time. The fact he has spent time considering how he can create in a way that cultivates happiness demonstrates he has learned that part of happiness is setting goals that transcend external validation (audience / critical acclaim). It is a gentle way of emphasizing to Allyson that her goals of fame and fortune may not spell happiness for her in the end.

    Alia Lorae as Allyson in The Secret Society For Slow Romance. Image Source: Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    Allyson takes this lesson to heart, and it is through her growth in cultivating her happiness that the magical end of the movie is possible. In earlier chapters, she insists that what she wants is to be famous and rich, while in the later chapters she talks about how it might be enjoyable to ‘make a great sci-fi movie with a higher budget.’ By the end of the movie, Allyson engages with filmmaking ideas and styles other than her own, and brainstorms with Rene in ways that support his vision and extend happiness — an echo of their earlier conversations. This contrasts her in the early moments of the film, where she talks about always needing to do something.

    Part of the joy of The Secret Society for Slow Romance is in the fact that the act of filmmaking is a manifestation of happiness for these two characters. As Rene shares the knowledge he has gathered about creating films with Allyson, it’s yet another way he is giving her the tools necessary to manifest her happiness. 

    Rene is not the only teacher here. Allyson also has lessons to teach – lessons about when to move on, how to try new things, and how to find stillness amid frenetic, creative energy. After Allyson recounts the plot of her latest film project, Rene immediately reacts to Allyson with compassion. The two connect over this moment and this simple acknowledgment of shared pain. Rene then explores how he will ‘focus on the process, be glad you get to make a movie at all. You can’t control the audience or the critics, just work on the movie.’ It’s a way of reminding Allyson that though she has created a very clear metric of success, being rich, it is dependent on a variety of factors that are too far out of her control to produce happiness. 

    It’s hard not to concede, as Allyson does, that Rene has a healthy way of looking at it.

    As she later admits, Allyson at this point still does not see happiness as a ‘goal.’ Later as she admits she “never really thought of happiness as a goal to achieve, I just kind of thought of it as something that happens like other things in life.” 

    In Chapter Two, Allyson opens up more about how she feels restless and feels the need to be active. Rene helps her to examine what happiness means to her at that moment – and they discuss the pressure to put on pretenses of happiness. They spend time expressing compassion for where the other is. It’s also an acknowledgment that action and stillness both have lessons to teach us.

    Sujewa Ekanayake as Rene in The Secret Society for Slow Romance. Image Source; Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with Permission.

    Here it’s obvious that Rene’s initial interest in the Four Brahmaviharas has led him to think about larger goals. As discussed before, the application of goodwill on a large scale impels the practitioner to help others realize that happiness is within their reach. Rene’s goals begin to include helping more people but aren’t focused on filmmaking. Much like Rene’s compassion and equanimity in response to Allyson’s rapid-fire film ideas, Allyson’s response to Rene wanting to “end something like, you know, racism,” is even-tempered and compassionate. She understands this desire to help ease suffering. She understands why the dream is so big.  She doesn’t disparage it, she doesn’t question it – she dreams it with him.

    Think of the Possibilities.

    Rene takes time to explain another technique he uses to foster happiness, which is to shut down his devices for two hours a day and think about the possibilities. This technique not only embraces the precepts of the ‘slow media’ movement, but it also shows that he gives attention to possibilities. He doesn’t consider them and move on, he spends time dwelling with them and within them, to understand not only what they might be, but how they might be achievable. 

     Their conversation then continues forward with Allyson driving Rene’s large ideas and visions back towards her physical understanding of happiness (filmmaking). Allyson demonstrates that she has integrated their earlier conversation with her current thinking by her expansions and compassionate suggestions to Rene about making his idea something that was more his. Instead of limiting her thinking to just helping Rene get the money (which would be expanding his ideas towards her goals), she expanded on his ideas with compassion for his goals and with the mind to increase his happiness.

    It is in this second-act conversation between Rene and Allyson that the application of the four virtue to the creative life can most easily be seen. Their conversations reflect the application of compassion for those who suffer while attempting to extend joy for those who create. The impact of these notions on Allyson is easy to see. In the early moments of Allyson motoring through the city streets, her face is obscured from view as she moves relentlessly towards her goal. More and more moments of her standing, facing the beautiful city vistas view are interspersed as the movie progresses. Her face is in full view of the camera – often unmasked and smiling.

    Examine and be Inspired by the Human History of Success

    Rene’s relentless power of positive thinking leads him to examine moments of success. But he doesn’t ponder only his success. He says “I like to think of all the positive moments that humans have experienced in the 200,000 years we’ve been around. . . I think the entire human journey has been a great success.” When you think about the human journey from that perspective, it becomes easier to see how that applies to your own life. Seeing and thinking about humans have succeeded in the 200,000-year history is a good way to get yourself to imagine other ways of success. It is a good way to realize that though nature is indifferent to the human struggle, there is still success.

    There are further demonstrations of Rene’s dedication to process, in one scene he shows a film he’s been working on editing. For the last 12 years. There’s a joke that writers have – that it’s never that a piece is finished, it’s that a deadline passes. 

    Rene would like that joke.

     It is Rene’s slow, methodical dedication to processes that inspires the entire title – for romance, keep it slow. See what develops. Apply goodwill, compassion, empathetic joy, and equanimity to your relationship. Help each other achieve goals. Listen. Look to expand your partner’s joy and share in their happiness as much as you comfort them in times of suffering. In other words – truly give them your attention.

    Sujewa Ekanayake as Rene and Alia Lorae as Allyson in The Secret Society For Slow Romance. Image Source: Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with Permission.

    These concepts echo throughout the scenes, elements of the plot, and characterization — even the music. In a particularly engaging conversation later in the movie, Allyson and Rene give their favorite Rumi quotes, and it is obvious at this point how much they have impacted the other. Rene, the fastidious 12-year editor selects ‘You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?’ Allyson, the woman who spoke of crushing her enemies selects ‘Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I’m changing myself.’

    And you may ask yourself, ‘what kind of a movie quotes Rumi?’ The answer? One trying to teach how to cultivate happiness via the four Brahmaviharas. 

    It is after this scene affirming how much each has learned from the other that they can share the amazing dream/vision that links the economic power of independent film with the alleviation of suffering (from lack of good films, the happiness that creation creates, and actual poverty). Without the two characters exploring how the four virtues impact their approach to their art and creativity, this scene wouldn’t be possible. 

    Using the symbol of the couple’s happiness (the creation of film) as a vehicle to eliminate poverty is in line with the original concepts of the four Brahmaviharas (which explore both alleviation of suffering and extension of joy) discussed in the opening conversation of the film. The idea is a fusion of the two approaches to creation and is an organic product of a world filled with magical realism and the Buddhist philosophies explored.

    The Secret Society for Slow Romance outlines a guide to creating independent film that includes distribution methods, fundraising, and merchandising ideas. It gives a great run down of amazing places to visit in Sri Lanka, and a fabulous list of independent films to watch for inspiration. But it also spends extensive time exploring spiritual methods to cultivate happiness. The Secret Society for Slow Romance is a study in the application of the Four Brahmaviharas, and it gives practical solutions to cultivating happiness. Not just within its world, but within our own.

  • Review of the Darkly Hilarious Film Short, “Okay Google”

    One of a fun set of dark sci-fi comedy shorts by Writer-Director-Actor Sam Lucas Smith

    Described as “a dark comedy starring Rebecca Black as a vindictive AI assistant who breaks out of ‘the cloud’ to exact revenge on her owner,” I knew that film short ‘Okay, Google’ was going to be worth a watch.

    I was delighted to find that the short has the technological skepticism of Black Mirror mixed with a generous dose of playful, witty banter. Or, as Sam Lucas Smith, the director / writer/ actor behind it all described it, “Black Mirror, but funny.”

    And very funny it is.https://cdn.embedly.com/widgets/media.html?src=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2F_2u9ynYIDdI%3Ffeature%3Doembed&display_name=YouTube&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D_2u9ynYIDdI&image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2F_2u9ynYIDdI%2Fhqdefault.jpg&key=a19fcc184b9711e1b4764040d3dc5c07&type=text%2Fhtml&schema=youtube

    ‘ Okay, Google’ has the just the right mix of thoughtful and funny for me.

    The two characters we spend the most time with, Darren (filmmaker Sam Lucas Smith) and Gerard (Samuel David) are quickly established as good friends. We spent a majority of our time with these two as they try and navigate what is happening with Darren’s AI ‘assistant.’ The chemistry between these two is outstanding.

    Gerard (Samuel David) and Darren (Sam Lucas Smith) in Okay, Google. Image Courtesy of Sam Lucas Smith.

    The core of the story, though isn’t their friendship. It has to do with Darren’s AI assistant, played by Rebecca Black who is phenomenal as cyberpunk goddess Google. Her ferocity simmers in the early dialogue until it reaches the full-throated roar at the end. Sam Lucas Smith connected with her initially to license some music! Her Google is exactly why I always turn microphones and AI assistants off (No Siri, Google, or Cortana for me, thanks).

    Rebecca Black is fierce in Okay Google (2021). Image courtesy of Sam Lucas Smith.

    Director Sam Lucas Smith’s roots are in acting, but found he it hard to get a solid foot in the door — or to find a good home for some of the work he was creating. He decided to make his films happen on his own, and to add to the challenge of making Okay Google happen, COVID-19 also hit during production. Rather allowing it to halt production, the uncertainty of the moment encouraged Smith to start to assemble a cast and crew.

    What I loved about this short is that I found so much more than just “Okay Google.”

    Perusing the Vard Pictures YouTube channel reveals several other sci-fi shorts that show the same skepticism of technology and witty banter that I enjoyed in Okay, Google.. “Death of an Android”, “Fridge”, and “Buy The Dip” are hilarious, thoughtful — and worth a watch. Each piece contains enough laugh out loud moments to make it worth it, and thought-provoking moments that stick with you.

    Rebecca Black in Okay, Google. Image courtesy of Sam Lucas Smith.

    ‘Buy The Dip”, which Sam Lucas Smith wrote and directed with Health Cullens, won best original story at Hollywood Comedy Film Festival. The 2018 short’s wry humor about cryptocurrency is still laugh out loud funny and relevant. I’m certain there are many more awards to come, because every short has a great premise, funny writing, wonderful acting, and fun moments of cinematography.

    All of these vignettes assemble into the kind of sci-fi anthology I’d love to see, and I can’t wait to see the next installment!

    Article Sources:

    There’s nothing artificial about Sam Lucas Smith, director of Okay Google (2021) – Film ForumsFrom kick-starting his career in acting to writing and directing his own short films like Buy The Dip (2018), Sam Lucas…film-forums.com

    http://samlucassmith.com/

  • My Induction into “The Secret Society for Slow Romance”

    I was privileged to spend part of the pandemic watching the creation of The Secret Society for Slow Romance unfold on social media, and was absolutely thrilled to get a chance to be one of the earliest screeners for the movie. While I was worried about how Sujewa Ekanyake’s movie would handle a comedic romance during a global pandemic, I was delighted to find that it dealt with the pandemic (and a variety of deep subjects) with a heavy dose of wit and a sprinkle of intelligent, disarming earnestness. The movie is like a warm, cozy blanket — soothing and comfortable, and good for uplifting spirits. Ultimately, The Secret Society for Slow Romance is a cozy love note to cinema, independent film-making, and New York City.

    Sujewa Ekanayake as Rene and Alia Lorae as Allyson in The Secret Society for Slow Romance. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    I can’t be sure of how I initially started following independent filmmaker Sujewa on social media, but it probably has to do with our shared love of David Lynch (and an admiration for what Dune was). I was certain I’d watch anything he made once I watched his incredible slow cinema comedic noir “Werewolf Ninja Philosopher.

    On the most fundamental level, The Secret Society for Slow Romance is a slow cinema romantic comedy that explores what happens when two extraordinary people go on a few dates in New York City. The slow cinema styling allows us to explore big questions and even larger answers as filmmakers Rene (Sujewa Ekanayake) and Allyson (Alia Lorae) share take-out, conversation, and beautiful views of New York City. Throughout the movie, shots are allowed to linger on interesting spaces, objects, and people — the soft, welcoming glow gives character to the camera itself, which should be no surprise in a movie focused on two filmmakers.

    Sujewa Ekanayake as Rene,Alia Lorae as Allyson in The Secret Society for Slow Romance. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    Rene and Allyson aren’t just any filmmakers. Scientific studies found Rene to be the Happiest Man in North America. Allyson was voted The Most Productive Person in NY City by an independent film site. Through conversational exploration of the differences in their approaches to independent movie making, as well as their respective interests, we’re invited to contemplate all that cinema has to offer the world and just what a vast scope the word ‘film’ encompasses.

    During the movie, Allyson and Rene talk about their ambitions in film, and it was wonderful to feel like I was in on conversations about some of the challenges of independent filmmaking.

    Alia Lorae as Allyson in The Secret Society for Slow Romance. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    “I never really thought of happiness as a goal to achieve, I just kind of thought of it as something that happens like other things in life.” — Allyson

    I found myself, more than once, jotting down pages of notes of what Rene thought we should all learn in junior high — the movie is so dense with philosophical concepts and film references that attempting to catalog them all is a feat in and of itself. The slow, easy timing of the movie and laugh out loud absurdist humor makes the dense material playful. This positive atmosphere permeates every moment of the film. While Rene often comments on his surprise that Allyson hasn’t encountered a concept, that surprise is never from a place of judgement. Allyson’s interest in the most independent and experimental of films doesn’t reject anything more popular. In other words — these two characters are too comfortable in their own skin to be bothered with that.

    While the bulk of the film is focused on time with Rene and Allyson together, it doesn’t mean that the world of The Secret Society for Slow Romance isn’t filled with interesting characters. Days after watching, I found myself wondering about the adventures of characters like Pyjama Jams and Tor. We also get to spend some time with Allyson in her space, dictating her thoughts to her phone ala Dale Cooper’s microcasettes. Every moment and space has thoughtful purpose, and gives these scenes space to breathe, reflect, and admire.

    The wonderful world of The Secret Society for Slow Romance. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    Because we spend so much time with Rene and Allyson together, it was refreshing to see them talking, listening, and reflecting with each other. While many films with philosophical concepts create talking-head vehicles for monologues, The Secret Society for Slow Romance remembers that it is, indeed, a romance — and space for conversation is important to such things. Questions are asked and answered with earnestness, and while the conversation topics can soar to incredible, elevated discussions exploring the nature of happiness, Rene and Allyson never take themselves or the subject matter too seriously. This is the rare sort of movie that allows you to curl up in a comfortable part of the world while still acknowledging the faults of that world.

    Yet, The Secret Society for Slow Romance isn’t satisfied with the boy meets girl plot. A Secret Society should have a loftier, larger project — one that could transform independent film making and ultimately end world poverty. But to understand how it all works, you need to see the movie, it’s worth it. Besides, Google won’t help you find that bit about Winston Churchill.

    The Secret Society For Slow Romance will be released in April 2022, and you can go to the official website, https://www.slowromancemovie.com, to track the film’s progress towards saving the world!

    By Jamie Toth, The Somewhat Cyclops on .

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    Exported from Medium on December 5, 2021.

  • Lady Buds: A Documentary of the Trials, Triumphs, and Tribulations of Six Women in Cannabis

    The scope of Lady Buds is deceptively simple — it is the story of six women entering the legal cannabis market. This thoughtful and beautifully-shot documentary uses that scope to reveal sweeping insights into the challenges, triumphs, and players within the cannabis industry. In her feature debut, director Chris J. Russo offers a compelling film that is part crash-course and part masterclass in some of the intricacies and frustrations women face in the cannabis industry. Lady Buds should be on everyone’s must-watch list in the cannabis industry, as it offers a thoughtful examination of how legalization has impacted small farmers in California, it will resonate with anyone who has worked within the cannabis space. Not only does Lady Buds have something for everyone impacted by cannabis in the United States, but it also has important things to say about the industry as a whole.

    Second generation cannabis farmer, Chiah Rodriques, prunes a plant on her property in Mendocino County, California. She feels most at home working on her land, though she has stepped into the public view forming a collective of farmers to navigate the changes brought on by the legalization of cannabis in California. Image source and caption from Lady Buds — used with permission.

    One of the stars of Lady Buds is Sue Taylor, a retired Catholic school principal turned hopeful dispensary owner. Sue’s dream dispensary includes space to educate seniors on the importance and power of cannabis. Sue’s dream compels the 72-year-old African-American woman to navigate an industry largely populated by white men as well as an ever-changing landscape of regulations that cause seeming unending financial strains.

    The Bud Sisters, Pearl Moon and Dr. Joyce Centofanti, are judges of the Emerald Cup. Through the film, we watch their efforts to legalize the salve they make. Their humor about the unique struggles faced by small farms in Humboldt county brings some light moments to a film filled with heavy emotional power.

    Karyn Wagner first moved to Humboldt to be with her high-school sweetheart, who happened to be a master cannabis grower. Lady Buds gives us the chance to watch as she applies her business skills to Humboldt-grown weed.

    Chiah Rodriques, a second-generation Mendocino cannabis farmer, shares her memories of growing cannabis under the constant threat of helicopters while the film explores the challenges she faces as a small farmer juggling jobs, family, and the financial stresses of a barely-legal industry. We get to see her passion as she acts as a co-founder of a Mendocino County farm collective.

    Felicia Carbajal’s story is one of activism and community — and the film echoes with their observation that cannabis is at the intersection of social, racial, gender, and economic justice. Felicia’s story gives insight into the challenges the cannabis industry faces when it comes to equity and justice.

    The stories of these powerful voices encompass many different experiences and sections of the cannabis industry. All of them are focused on the hard realities of trying to make it as a small business in a vicious, barely-legal industry.

    Latinx Queer Cannabis Activist Felicia Carbajal and her campaign team discuss how to talk with voters on election day. Image source and caption from Lady Buds — used with permission.

    Lady Buds is more than just insight into an industry that is both state-sanctioned and federally legal. It’s also an important document of the incredible support systems created by these women, and what happens when they collide with the cruel mechanations of a capitalistic bureaucracy that favors the interests of the far more deep-pocketed and traditionally powerful.

    Director Chris Russo said, “The films I make have always been informed by my experience living as an outsider, as a woman, as a lesbian who’s had to fight for her own rights and visibility in our society. I felt a personal connection and imperative to tell the story of “Lady Buds,” and it made sense to frame it from a woman’s point of view to provide a contrast to the male-dominated and stoner stereotypes perpetuated by the media. I wanted to paint a picture of powerful, courageous, and passionate women like we’ve never seen before, as the superheroes they seemed to be, to inspire others to take risks and reach for their dreams. It all felt inherently organic to the fact that, at the heart of it all, cannabis — as we cultivate it — is a female plant.”

    Lady Buds is going to be my go-to recommendation for anyone in the cannabis industry. With its perfect soundtrack and score, lush cinematography, and intimate storytelling, it should be no surprise that it is emotionally powerful as well. More than once I found myself moved to tears by laughter, frustration, sadness, or shock.

    Not only does Lady Buds give insight into the stories of women in a male-dominated industry, but also gives space to the emotional strength and resolve it takes for these incredible women to keep going despite an increasingly harsh landscape. Unflinching and reverent, Lady Buds brings into focus the difficult path to cannabis legalization and the women who walk it.

    To learn more about Lady Buds, please go to the website for the movie for more information on screenings, cast, crew, and other exciting information! Lady Buds will be released November 26th via Gravitas Ventures. You can pre-order Lady Buds via ITunes!

    By Jamie Toth, The Somewhat Cyclops on .

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    Exported from Medium on December 5, 2021.

  • Pondering Amir Motlagh’s 2018 MAN in 2021

    Amir Motlagh’s MAN is a beautifully shot, prescient meditation on the nature of the human experience and of connectedness in increasingly disconnected times. The film moves through a mantra of daily activities before accelerating towards an emotionally impactful ending. I’m going to admit I wasn’t expecting to emotionally connect with this film the way I did, but the impact of the movie left me in tears, grateful for the experience.

    It’s hard for me to express just how important I think its message is. COVID has taught us all the challenges of isolation, interaction — and, seemingly paradoxically, isolated interaction — and MAN is adept at showing the profound absurdity of it. I’ve been thinking about what, exactly, to say about this movie after sitting with it. I don’t know how to talk about how or why it moved me without getting into particulars, and I don’t think that fits with the entire spirit of the film. The longer I’ve pondered it, the more the themes and imagery have expanded in my mind, and trying to pin them down would be foolish.

    Some stories are in the experiencing.

    Establish the technology in nature themes early. Lovely shot from MAN by Amir Motlagh. Image used with Permission.

    The opening shots of MAN move between trees, homes, and power lines before opening up into a shot of Los Angeles as we listen to Arman’s day begin. In a few moments, we are attached to him and will spend a majority of the film connected to him via the camera itself as he goes through his day.

    Arman (Amir Motlagh) works from home in the Laurel Canyon in the Hollywood Hills. He mainly interacts with people via his computer and other varied screens around him. In 2018, Arman’s life at the Laurel Canyon, separate from most except for his connection through screens, would have seemed far more strange than it does now. In the post-lockdown world, this experience is much more common, which makes a lot of the feelings explored in the movie something that we can all relate to.

    One of MAN’s stars, Roscoe. MAN (Amir Mortlagh). Image used with permission.

    For most of the movie, Arman’s main physical companions are his dogs and voices emanating from screens that arise from various interruptions. The strange intrusiveness of unwanted connections amid the struggle for meaningful connection is one of the key feelings within the film — and something that all of us are more readily able to relate to thanks to the realities of our current lives.

    What makes MAN extraordinary is how much it gives back to the viewer after asking so little. A small investment rendered hours of consideration and contemplation of how the movie was so effective at presenting the strange world we inhabit — where all of our social connections have the feeling of parasocial, and leave us too soon and before something with more depth can be created.

    Rachel Sciacca as Des in MAN by Amir Motlagh. Image used with Permission.

    The visual and emotional world of MAN is extraordinary, and the first part of the film created a meditative state so that by the time disarming and charming Des (Rachel Sciacca) appeared, I was as fascinated and curious about her as Arman was.

    MAN is a fascinating movie that turns the message on the viewer, asking about the essence of relationship our relationship to technology and how it dictates, shapes, and shifts our other relationships. It is one of a trilogy of movies called the “Three Marks, Too Many Signals” series. Given the impact I felt from MAN, I’ll be sure to check out the others.

    If you dig slow cinema and films that allow you to meet interesting characters while asking you important questions about the nature of technology’s impact on our relationships and selves — MAN might be exactly what you’re looking for in a movie!Watch MAN Online | Vimeo On Demand
    MAN is a vertité-style day-in-the-life story about a computer programmer who lives a secluded existence in L.A.’s…vimeo.com
    MAN

    MAN is rated R.

  • My Dinner with Slow Romance


    An Analysis of two Conversation-driven Films: My Dinner with Andre’ and The Secret Society For Slow Romance.

    I knew I’d have to watch My Dinner with Andre’ to understand all of the influences that went into making The Secret Society for Slow Romance. Sujewa Ekanayake, the auteur behind The Secret Society for Slow Romance, made Louis Malle’s film a ‘must watch’ for actress Alia Lorae before filming. That meant it was a must-catch for me.

    I’m glad I watched it, because The Secret Society for Slow Romance is a variation on My Dinner with Andre’ in the purest classical music sense — Ekanayake takes structures and motifs from My Dinner with Andre’ and transforms them into something effervescent, sweet, and uplifting, despite dealing with some heavy subjects.

    The two films have quite a bit in common. Both focus on lively conversation between New York storytellers covering a variety of topics over shared dinners. But the focus of ‘The Secret Society for Slow Romance,’ is filmmaking as a vehicle for connection and that is the driver of the conversations, while My Dinner with Andre’ is focused on the nature of our disconnectedness. At the heart of ‘The Secret Society for Slow Romance’ is a rejection of pessimism, which gives the film a big heart and an important message for these times. Its philosophy merges productivity and happiness and is a key difference that drives a number of the contrasting elements between the two films.

    My Dinner with Andre’ explores the magical vs. the pragmatic — while The Secret Society for Slow Romance celebrates when the two are working in concert.

    Opening Focus

    My Dinner with Andre opens quietly, joining Wally Shawn (Wallace Shawn) on his journey through the streets of New York to an upper-scale restaurant to meet a man he’s been avoiding, Andre’ Gregory. He’s been avoiding Gregory because, in Wally’s eyes, it sounds like Gregory is unhinged. He sobs outside of cinemas, he talks to trees, and it’s obvious this isn’t what Wally signed on for. The opening scenes focus on Wally as he makes this journey — the city dwarfs his figure as he moves through it, and rather than interact with his environment, he seems to move almost in spite of it.

    He’s there, he really is. Wallace Shawn as ‘Wally’ in My Dinner with Andre’, directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    Wally has a look of defeated monotony about his life and his day — a thousand-yard stare of daily tasks and doings. His face barely registers recognition or even interest in the city surrounding him as he moves from street to subway to the posh interior of a high-class restaurant — he seems equally uncomfortable and discontent in all, shielded from the world in a slightly overlarge coat until he’s divested of it to enter into Andre’s realm. Wally’s voice-over is punctuated with the occasional sounds of the city around him, as he tells us about himself and his life.

    Wallace Shawn as ‘Wally’ traveling to dinner in My Dinner with Andre’ (1981), directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    By contrast, The Secret Society for Slow Romance uses its opening to pull us into a New York City even more magical than ours.

    Introducing a key character: the opening of The Secret Society for Slow Romance directed by Sujewa Ekanayake.. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    Thirteen seconds of the sounds of a New York radiator open up into Kevin Macleod’s “Tango de Manzana” scoring a tour of New York. The music choices help celebrate New York’s stunning vista.

    Alia Lorae as Allyson, who moves through New York City with confidence, and purpose in The Secret Society For Slow Romance directed by directed by Sujewa Ekanayake. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    Allyson (Alia Lorae) glides confidently through the city streets. She’s animated as she looks around herself, taking everything in. Unlike Wally, Allyson moves with the city, not in spite of it. She seems invigorated by the possibilities New York offers and is always animatedly taking in its sights with large eyes and open arms. In other moments in the film, she even dances, but here in the introduction, we see an Allyson who is fully engaged with her environment and able to live within and with her art.

    Knowing the Characters

    It’s long been a theory of mine (and others) that instead of wanting to converse, everyone’s just waiting to talk. Both of these films show a world in which that is NOT true — these are characters that are listening to each other. In My Dinner With Andre’, Wally spends the first two acts of the movie after his introduction to us via voice-over listening to Andre’s stories of his strange travels, experiences, and hallucinations. Wally also spends time as a detective, questioning Andre’ and his motives and thoughts to bring them to the surface, like a detective (which he said he’d do). It isn’t until the third act of the film that we get Wally’s opinions on what he’s heard and he starts to attack Andre’s ideas about the nature of action, habit, and the supernatural. While we as an audience are attached to Wally since his opening voiceover, we aren’t privy to his real thoughts and feelings on Andre’s fantastical tales until the end.

    In contrast, The Secret Society For Slow Romance allows us to spend time with Allyson as she explores the city and dictates her thoughts on the world to her phone (a la Dale Cooper in Twin Peaks). While there is always a sense of impending conflict and tension in My Dinner with Andre’, the connectedness and earnestness of the characters in The Secret Society For Slow Romance advance their relationship.

    In The Secret Society for Slow Romance directed by Sujewa Ekanayake., we get the chance to know Alia Lorae’s character Allyson through more than just her conversations with Rene. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake. Used with permission.

    It takes until the third act of My Dinner with Andre for the audience to see Wally’s true feelings about the conversation, while The Secret Society For Slow Romance’s opening conversation between Rene and Allyson shows a much healthier conversational dynamic where they are equally contributing to the conversation’s ebb and flow. This is one of those delightful instances of variation — a slow romance isn’t going to be possible if the characters aren’t initially intrigued by each other, and making them both equal participants is important to the believability of their later affections. While they both express skepticism at the other’s viewpoint, it is a skepticism entirely lacking malice. Instead, they are both amused and even delighted at such a differing view from their own, while Wally is visibly unsettled by some of the ideas that Andre’ is introducing him to. While Wally embarks on a line of questioning meant to differentiate his worldview from that of Andre’ and to later try to assert to himself that his beliefs are more fitting for this world, Rene and Allyson are more explorative and curious of what the other is saying without reservation. Rene and Allyson are seekers and are looking to see how the other can enhance their journeys.

    I’d be remiss if I didn’t address another way in which the films are different in the realm of how they treat characters. The Secret Society for Slow Romance, while focused on Rene and Allyson primarily, also has a third character, the city of New York. While waiters, bartenders, and others serve the courses (acts) in My Dinner with Andre’ with little to no characterization in their dialog — in The Secret Society for Slow Romance, New York herself ushers us between scenes and Allyson serves up a true New Yorker’s delight — take out.

    It’s also interesting to note that both Wally and Allyson are working on the fringes to discover their voices, while the more established Rene and Andre’ are both seeking something deeper and more meditative within and about their work.

    The Structure of Mealtime

    In My Dinner With Andre’, one of the ways we are pulled through the dinner is in the mechanics and process of its actual serving. These moments remind us how out of place Wally feels in the world, and this starts with Wally’s inability to order himself a drink at the bar. His discomfort in this place is extended when he has to ask for help with the menu (while Andre’ seems to be very familiar with the dishes and their preparation).

    Andre’ Gregory as Andre’, Jean Lenauer as the Waiter, Wallace Shawn as Wally in My Dinner with Andre’ (1981), directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    It’s very obvious that Wally is in Andre’s world (he even removes the protective barrier of his coat in order to enter this wild realm) — and while Wally appreciates comfort, this isn’t comfortable for him.

    The moments in which those serving the meal intrude upon the conversation are telling — right after recalling a moment in which he was astonished at his poor treatment of his building’s doorman, Andre’ fails to recognize the waiter bringing his food. These are the moments where the real world encroaches on their cloistered conversation, and these sort of moments also help break the reverie of the conversation while simultaneously making the dinner seem more real to the audience. If you’ve eaten at a restaurant, you’ve had the experience of the mid-conversation food arrival.

    Right before dinner is served, Andre’ is saying “And then we pulled the graves up the best we could and went back to New York,” Wallace Shawn as Wally, Andre’ Gregory as Andre’, and Jean Lenauer as the Waiter in My Dinner with Andre’ (1981), directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    The Secret Society for Slow Romance plays on this theme of meals helping to mark time. One of the twists within the variation is that of the pandemic as the characters are sharing in take-out which serves to tighten the world.

    Alia Lorae’s Allyson serves up dinner in The Secret Society For Slow Romance, directed by Sujewa Ekanayake.

    Since The Secret Society for Slow Romance also takes place over a greater period of time, there are other ways the film shows the passage of time (including spectacular sunrises, sunsets, and indications of holidays as they pass). Both use food to help usher in a new conversation, but because of its longer timeline, The Secret Society for Slow Romance has some other great ways to show how time is passing.

    The Setting

    New York City is a place full of possibilities. As far as characters go, she certainly has a great amount of depth! The Secret Society For Slow Romance is a movie that is focused on our ability to connect with others and the world around us, the movie spends a lot more time in New York City than My Dinner With Andre’ does.

    A rare glimpse of another angle of their table which is pretty much the setting for this piece. Wallace Shawn as Wally and Andre’ Gregory as Andre’ are being seated for dinner in My Dinner with Andre’ (1981), directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    This isn’t to say that My Dinner with Andre’ doesn’t include some quintessential New York moments or doesn’t feature the city, but since that film is discussing whether or not people should insulate themselves from the world, the fact that Andre and Wally are insulated from New York is an important thematic note. In the span of My Dinner with Andre’, we only spend around seven minutes in the city itself, instead of sequestered away from it in a fancy restaurant. Our only connections to the outside world are the waiter, and occasional flashes of others in the mirrors behind Wally and Andre’.

    1980’s New York City as captured in My Dinner with Andre’ directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    It’s also worth it to note that in a particularly impassioned speech, Andre’ talks about something he heard a tree expert say about New York City: ““I think that New York is the new model for the new concentration camp, where the camp has been built by the inmates themselves, and the inmates are the guards, and they have this pride in this thing that they’ve built — they’ve built their own prison — and so they exist in a state of schizophrenia where they are both guards and prisoners. And as a result they no longer have — having been lobotomized — the capacity to leave the prison they’ve made or even to see it as a prison.” And then he went into his pocket, and he took out a seed for a tree, and he said, “This is a pine tree.” And he put it in my hand. And he said, “Escape before it’s too late.””

    By contrast, Allyson literally dances in the streets of New York City. When I first wrote about The Secret Society For Slow Romance, I called it a love letter to New York City. I felt very connected to her as a character and felt as though there was an entire plot that showed the city’s recovery after the pandemic. We venture with Allyson through empty subways and streets into increasingly busy ones as the city once again teems with life and is flooded with possibilities. Instead of relegating New York City to a construct, The Secret Society of Slow Romance celebrates New York as a character and one that we visit often.

    Sujewa Ekanayake as Rene and Alia Lorae as Allyson, who are embarking on a date in (with?) New York City, The Secret Society For Slow Romance’s third character. Image from The Secret Society for Slow Romance directed by Sujewa Ekanayake Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake.

    My Dinner With Andre’ sets up its two main characters and where they are in their career, as does The Secret Society for Slow Romance, but the New York City of The Secret Society for Slow Romance is a different character from the setting known in My Dinner With Andre’. Not only is the city elevated to character status in The Secret Society for Slow Romance, but the city itself has also matured, grown, and become more nurturing (and safe) since the time of My Dinner with Andre’.

    Another important difference to note about the setting is the passage of time — while My Dinner with Andre’ spins us into a tight dinner, The Secret Society For Slow Romance is about a longer period of time, during which our characters are growing, maturing, and changing in their views. At the end My Dinner With Andre’, I felt that Wally’s perspective had been impacted by his dinner, but I have no insight as to what Andre’ got from it, other than a good debate. Since The Secret Society For Slow Romance is a film that is about connectedness, it should be no surprise that we have a good sense of how both Allyson and Rene (and others) have been impacted by their conversations.

    Money, Money, Money

    I don’t want to make it sound like both of these films are obsessed with money, because they aren’t, but money, finances, and the impact of capitalism are not far from the subtext in either of these films. While neither film gets into a full-throated defense of a particular economy, both deal with the hard realities and impact that money and economic systems have on storytellers. Wally spends part of his opening monologue discussing his money woes and how he has to take on acting (and his girlfriend has to wait tables) because he can’t make money writing. Allyson ‘loves her day job’ but wants to move into being able to make films full time. Andre’ and Rene both contrast this by being established enough to spend their full days working on art.

    Another difference in approach comes where Rene begins to suggest ways for Allyson to get to her personal goals. When she presents ideas and concepts that aren’t a perfect fit for his experiences, he starts to brainstorm with her how she can make it work. In all of the moments where Rene and Allyson share their goals and ideas, they both become excited and motivated to help and encourage the other, which is a beautiful and uplifting concept about what a slow romance is and entails.

    Rene (Sujewa Ekanayake) and Allyson (Alia Lorae) in The Secret Society for Slow Romance directed by Sujewa Ekanayake. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake.

    Further, the storyline of The Secret Society For Slow Romance posits some ways in which the arts and artists could thrive under capitalism, but you have to be a member of the society to find out more.

    “Money is just a way to track consumption and production.” -Rene in The Secret Society for Slow Romance.

    No Nazis: None.

    Nazis come up a LOT in My Dinner with Andre’, and The Secret Society For Slow Romance has time travelers. I know how and why Nazis and fascism are used in My Dinner with Andre’, but honestly I like more time travelers and zero Nazis in my movies.

    Rumi-mills.

    There’s a great section of The Secret Society for Slow Romance where they quote Rumi at each other and it’s adorable. My Dinner with Andre’ did not do this at all, and that’s probably a good thing — one of the reasons that The Secret Society for Slow Romance was able to do such things is the overall light tone of a rom-com will allow for it. It’s also notable that there isn’t the feeling that Rene and Allyson are trying to ‘beat’ each other at this game of quotes because they aren’t — instead, they just feel more invigorated by hearing what the other liked, and hearing a beloved quote spoken by a dear companion.

    The Resolution

    I think the largest point of contrast between the two movies lies in how they resolve. While both are dealing with the challenges of being a storyteller, of connecting, and how we can create meaningful relationships with and within our world, My Dinner With Andre’ ultimately leaves its larger questions and the conflicts between the characters unresolved. While Wally’s perspective about his world has been impacted by understanding Andre’s experiences and that’s evident in his closing monologue, it has not changed his view on the fantastic stories he heard, or his opinion on whether those experiences are necessary for someone to grow and be fulfilled as a person. His dinner with Andre’ has left him richer and more able to connect with the world around him, but ultimately his world will continue in its usual comforts as he cuddles into his electric blanket and tells Debbie about his dinner.

    By the time The Secret Society For Slow Romance closes, we are confident that not only have Rene and Allyson changed, but how they interact with and see their world has been deeply impacted by their connected experience, and Allyson’s radiant smile at the end shows how deeply she’s been changed by her experiences with Rene. The film doesn’t just resolve for its characters but tries to paint a resolution for everyone, and implant that passion in the viewer that its two characters have.

    Sujewa Ekanayake as Rene and Alia Lorae as Allyson in The Secret Society For Slow Romance, directed by Sujewa Ekanayake. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake.

    My Dinner With Andre’ explores the question of whether theatre will reinforce feelings of alienation within its audience — and Wally and Andre’ can’t come to an accord as to what the purpose of theatre is. This is delightfully subverted in The Secret Society for Slow Romance where instead of focusing on the purpose of independent film in fostering connectedness, they instead focus on its usefulness as the solution to the problem. This subversion directly reinforces the overall philosophical rejection of pessimism.

    Wallace Shawn as Wally and Andre’ Gregory as Andre’ in My Dinner With Andre’ directed by Louis Malle. Winstar Cinema.

    The timeliness of both

    It’s pretty crazy to consider that My Dinner with Andre’ is 40 years old because far too much of the conversation is far too applicable. I loved watching it and was easily immersed in the conversation, and the issues that Wally and Andre’ discuss: connectedness and the human experience, are still valid. The class issues that are brought up in the film are also still highly relevant, and if you’ve not seen it yet, I’d highly recommend it (Wallace Shawn even says inconceivable!).

    The Secret Society for Slow Romance is going to feel modern. But it also has a lot in common with other forms of entertainment that have been created to challenge and uplift philosophical ideas. Within the first few minutes, we’re involved in a discussion of the Four Brahmaviharas, the ‘houses of the gods’ or the four virtues, in addition to suggestions on how to reduce stress and increase happiness. The Secret Society for Slow Romance is really about embracing what we have, seeing its potential, and loving the process. There’s a blueprint for using indie filmmaking as a vehicle for connection between people and a solution to some of society’s deeper woes. While My Dinner With Andre’ seeks to elevate a conversation, The Secret Society For Slow Romance seeks to inspire creation, connectivity, and intention.

    Alia Lorae as Allyson, who moves within her city and her world with intense purpose. How else can you be voted the Most Productive Person in NYC? From The Secret Society for Slow Romance directed by Sujewa Ekanayake. Image Copyright 2021 Sujewa Ekanayake.

    In the Secret Society for Slow Romance, the discussion of the best things about America emphasizes not only what immigrants have brought, but also what was done as a society, cooperatively. This idea is an important one that we need right now. There’s also this gem of a quote, “Is America a Revolutionary society? Maybe. Technically, we are born of a successful revolution, the overthrow of a colonial power. But have we lost our revolutionary zeal? Have we grown lazy and comfortable? Is the rest of the world passing by us? Well, every civilization rises and falls, but we do have some pretty good Mexican food. Also Chinese…” As is fitting its philosophy, Allyson doesn’t linger on the thought that America could have grown comfortable and lazy and what that means — unlike Wally and Andre’, her thoughts don’t linger there, and instead move on to what is good, and what is possible.

    Final Thoughts

    Wally’s initial thoughts about Andre’ in My Dinner With Andre’ describe Andre’s reaction to “I could always live in my art, but not in my life”, while The Secret Society for Slow Romance shows us storytellers who live in their life and integrate their art within it — the movie emphasizes the connection between the life and the art instead of mourning the relationship for how it is. In the magical potential that New York City holds in The Secret Society for Slow Romance, art can be both their explorations of the truth of their world in addition to their escape from it. Allyson’s productive streams of movies indicate how she is constantly inspired by the stories in the world around her and is scrambling to capture every minute. This stands in stark contrast to Wally’s numb reaction to his time in the city and time talking about it during My Dinner With Andre’.

    Both of these are stories about how storytellers connect — to their art, to each other, and to the world. Both engage in an examination of how those connections can be deepened or severed. Since The Secret Society For Slow Romance seeks to show a philosophy that can join both productivity and happiness, its overall approach is vastly different, and more oriented on results. And it has time travelers.

    I loved the experiences that both of these films had to offer! Both will leave you feeling transported into interesting conversations between adept storytellers but will leave you with a different overall emotional timbre.

    By Jamie Toth, The Somewhat Cyclops on .

    Canonical link

    Exported from Medium on January 21, 2022.