I began writing for ScreenAnarchy in October 2005 as a festival correspondent at AFI Fest and never expected that it would turn into anything more. Eight years later, I'm still here, and for the past two years, I've had the privilege of serving as managing editor for an expanding outfit that features more than 40 talented contributors from around the world.
In those eight years, I've learned a great deal about a great many 'strange little movies,' many of which I've later seen at home, and enjoyed / appreciated fully. My greatest joy continues to be found in movie theaters, though, no matter how frustrating it can be, what with the breakdown of civilization evident among audiences and all.
House of Cards
Still reeling from the news that I wouldn't be getting the cool full-time job I coveted at the cool bookstore I'd been laboring at as a seasonal worker, I decided to completely f* up my schedule by staying up until two in the morning to watch the first episode of the highly-touted new series from David Fincher and Netflix, starring Kevin Spacey. And I was thrilled. And I stayed up to write to write about it. And then, since it was four in the morning, and my schedule was blown anyway, I stayed awake and began binging. And I watched the remaining 12 episodes in huge gulps that day, broken up by occasional fits of sleeping. And then I wrote about it. And, lo, I felt much better.
Cheap Thrills
All I knew was that the first teaser was, indeed, a great teaser, and that the SXSW organizers had scheduled it for the first midnight screening, which usually indicates confidence in a film's strength and/or general appeal. I grumbled when I realized the schedule would force me to run very, very fast from the Paramount Theatre, where Evil Dead would be ending shortly before, to the Ritz, where Cheap Thrills was playing, with only minutes to spare and no guarantee of a seat, so I scrubbed Evil Dead from my schedule with disappointment. Then I grumbled some more when the Cheap Thrills screening was delayed by 20 minutes and not every seat was filled, anyway. Grumble, grumble.
But then the movie started and within moments I knew I was in the hands of filmmakers who knew exactly what they were doing, and then the movie got better and better and punched me hard in the stomach because I didn't know what was going to happen. And I raced back to where I was staying as a guest -- thanks Aram, Nate, and Ryland! -- and fought through exhaustion and typed up a review that I hope reflected my excitement and the film's excellence.
Drug War
Through the kindness of James Marsh, Todd Brown, and the Hong Kong Trade Development Council, I was given the opportunity to attend Hong Kong Filmart, which was the fulfillment of a dream I'd been dreaming since I first fell in love with Hong Kong movies in the late 1990s. My 'movie-watching in Hong Kong' cherry was broken, so to speak, on the first day, when I saw the enjoyable The Berlin File, as part of the concurrent Hong Kong International Film Festival, but my emotions were really stirred the next afternoon, when James Marsh, Pierce Conran, and I sat down for Johnny To's new film. That's right: Johnny To's NEW FILM! IN A THEATER!! IN HONG KONG!!!
It blew my mind, even though the film is set in Mainland China. And, admittedly, my reaction was tempered, initially, as my naturally critical mind struggled to balance my emotions with a degree of perspective. But, screw it, the more I think about it, the better the film becomes in my estimation. (Here's my review, elsewhere.)
(Oh, and did I mention fighting with other media people for a close peek at Johnny To, Andy Lau, and Sammi Cheng at a press conference? Yeah, that was a great month, even if I came home with barely enough money to get home from the airport.)
Motorway
While I was in Hong Kong, I snared a DVD of Cheang Pou-Soi's Motorway, which is special to me because I know one of the co-writers, Joey O'Bryan. We first got in touch maybe 10 years ago when I wrote a column critical of Fulltime Killer, which he co-wrote, and he emailed to share some observations. We've kept in touch over the years, as much as fellow genre film fanatics as anything else, and so when I got back into town and heard that Motorway would be screening at the USA Film Festival here in Dallas, I was overjoyed.
Now, I'd just watched the DVD, and thoroughly enjoyed it, so being able to watch it on a nice-sized screen with an appreciative audience, introduced knowledgeably by film critic Alonso Duralde, with Joey present for a question-and-answer session, was a special treat that I treasure.
M
One of the joys of Twitch's Full Disclosure series is that it's compelled me to watch films that I'd always wanted to watch, but never had the time or inclination to do so. As it happens, my choice for August coincided with a series of screenings arranged by the Dallas Film Society and hosted by Dallas Morning News film critic Chris Vognar.
You can read my reactions to the film here, but what made this special was Chris Vognar as the perfect kind of host -- articulate, well-educated, personable, and modest -- and a pre-screening discussion with a gentleman sitting next to me in the packed auditorium at the Angelika Film Center. We chatted for 40 minutes about a range of movies and social topics, and then the film began, and the audience was incredibly well-behaved and attentive. That's how it should be, and rarely is, nowadays.
The Devils
Having only a nodding acquaintance with director Ken Russell, I attended this screening on the second day of Fantastic Fest with a degree of trepidation, made more complicated by the fact that I was already exhausted and my seat was in the front row! But, friends had urged me to go, and this was a rare chance to see the movie in 35mm, and blah, blah, I was there.
Ben Wheatley's reverent, enthusiastic introduction wound me up, and I felt better when I saw him sit down in the front row as well! Unfortunately, I needed an I.V. of caffeine to stay awake, which wasn't forthcoming, so I began drifting in and out of consciousness as the movie unwound.
Which only made it better! My neck craned upward, my eyelids fluttering open and shut, I felt as though I was bonding on a nuclear level with the movie, the crazed religious antics and the wild response of the audience -- respectful, but it's impossible to see certain things and not respond with an "Aaaah!" or an "Oooooh!" or an "OMG!!!"
Overall, I had a great time watching movies at the Alamo Drafthouse, Lakeline, which is well set up and appointed, and the audiences were there for the movies, not to make their own entertainment. Special nods to the appreciative audiences for Ninja, Shadow of a Tear and Man of Tai Chi, which added to the fun of those movies.
Breaking Bad
Since I don't have cable and have to count my pennies, I watch very few shows via VOD, but this series has had a strong hold on me for the past several seasons. The penultimate episode screening during Fantastic Fest, so I waited until I got home and the final episode aired before buying both episodes and watching them that Monday morning.
The advantage of buying an episode is that there are no commercial breaks, so the episode flows from beginning to end. The disadvantage is that there are no commercial breaks. The episode was designed for them, building to mini-climaxes, and then allowing for moments of reflection, so without those breaks, the cumulative effect is, I believe, greater.
That cumulative effect became punishing with the final two episodes of Breaking Bad, especially in the quiet and solitude of a Monday morning at home. My spirit was broken and my heart weighed heavy. Walter White thinks he has won, that he has achieved all he set out to do, without realizing or accepting that, in the process, he has destroyed his family. And that is the saddest thing of all.
The Visitor
Frankly, I do not like watching movies on my laptop, but many independent films do not screen theatrically in advance for critics and reviewers, and I want to watch them! So I can write about them! That means I watch a fair share of things via online screening links, and that includes The Visitor, which I mention only because this movie demands to be seen, whether in a theater or at a drive-in or on an airplane or in your home or on your computer or on your phone -- ye gods! -- or in your dreams or in your nightmares.
Having seen The Visitor, I believe that my movie-watching life is now complete, but there's always next year. (My review, which may or may not make sense.)
The Wolf of Wall Street
From November onward, critics groups are treated to an onslaught of screenings for awards consideration. As a proud member of the Dallas/Ft. Worth Film Critics Association, I can tell you that it is a privilege to see movies that studios and independent distributors feel are worthy of awards consideration. But I can also tell you that some of these people are deluded and/or acting out of a sense of obligation.
In the final week of critics' screenings, however, our group finally had a chance to see Martin Scorsese's latest opus, which I wrote about at length in my review. Now, I should note here that I am not entirely uncomfortable being called a "film critic." I love movies and I love writing about them, but I am entirely self-educated. I read as much as I can and I watch as many as I can, but it is an ongoing education, and I recognize that many others are better-suited to be known as film critics: they are better, more eloquent writers, and more qualified to give context and perspective.
Having said that, I look forward to attending advance screenings as much for the company -- and the opportunity to talk about movies with learned critical colleagues -- as for the movies themselves. Many other friends simply do not have the time or interest to watch as many movies as I do, and even the biggest movie fiends rarely have the opportunity to give much time to thinking about how movies fit into the world at large.
So, thanks to everyone who was kind enough to spend time talking with me about movies this year, whether you be critic, friend, Internet pal, or a stranger, never to be met again.
The Fall
The last couple of weeks have been a whirl for me, as I've finally been able to unlock the vault at Warner Archive Instant -- it's fantastic! -- and have restarted my Netflix subscription, after months without it. To celebrate, I decided to check out an episode of the highly-touted limited series The Fall … and was quickly drawn firmly into its uncomfortable, nerve-jangling embrace.
Once in a while, a mysterious alchemy occurs, where the material and the approach somehow sends shivers through my nervous system. I'm not sure how it's done, or why it happens, and I'm not sure I want to know, but The Fall did that to me. Under that spell, I binged on three episodes late one night, but then I stopped and slept, because I did not want to fall back into that deep dark abyss where suicidal impulses ping off the invisible walls. Some 24 hours later, I returned and finished, and found it good, and now I'm in a happier place, so it's all OK.
Those were my favorite viewing experiences of 2013. What were yours?
