Splitscreen: A Love Story

The Nokia Short 2011 com­pe­ti­tion wrapped up this week­end at the Edin­burgh Inter­na­tion­al Film Fes­ti­val, and the jury gave the first prize to Splitscreen: A Love Sto­ry. Shot with a Nokia N8 mobile phone and a hand-held dol­ly (watch the “mak­ing of” video here), the film ele­gant­ly weaves togeth­er scenes from Paris and New York. A syn­chro­nized tale of two great cities. Then, it all comes togeth­er in Lon­don. Kudos to direc­tor JW Grif­fiths, and don’t miss his orig­i­nal pitch.

via Curios­i­ty­Counts

Gone With the Wind Turns 75, and Shows its Age

It’s with some dis­com­fort that the author names Gone with the Wind, pub­lished exact­ly 75 years ago today, her favorite child­hood book: It was thick, it was roman­tic — and per­haps most cru­cial­ly for any awk­ward, bespec­ta­cled pre­teen girl — it fea­tured a head­strong hero­ine whose appeal to the oppo­site sex derived more from her charm than her phys­i­cal beau­ty.

Nonethe­less, there’s no way around the pro­found fail­ings of both the book and the MGM epic film based on it: Nov­el and film treat­ed slav­ery as an inci­den­tal back­drop to the war; they glo­ri­fied and mis­rep­re­sent­ed the actions of the Ku Klux Klan; and most egre­gious­ly, they por­trayed the mas­ter-slave rela­tion­ship as one which nei­ther mas­ter nor slave should ever dream of alter­ing. In the words of his­to­ri­an and soci­ol­o­gist Jim Loewen, author of Lies My Teacher Told Me: Every­thing Your High School His­to­ry Text­book Got Wrong:

[Gone With The Wind] laments the pass­ing of the slave era as “gone with the wind.” In the nov­el, Mitchell states open­ly that African Amer­i­cans are “crea­tures of small intel­li­gence.” And this book is by far the most pop­u­lar book in the U.S. and has been for 60 years. The book is also pro­found­ly wrong in its his­to­ry. What it tells us about slav­ery, and espe­cial­ly recon­struc­tion, did not happen…it is pro­found­ly racist and pro­found­ly wrong. Should we teach it? Of course. Should we teach against it? Of course.

Mean­while, Hat­tie McDaniel took home a best sup­port­ing actress Oscar for her role as Scar­lett O’Hara’s loy­al house slave, Mam­my. She was the first African-Amer­i­can woman to win an Acad­e­my Award. The fact that she was not allowed to attend the film’s pre­miere in Atlanta makes her accep­tance speech (1940) even more poignant. It appears above.

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

Peter Falk (RIP) in Wings of Desire

Peter Falk made his career play­ing a quirky detec­tive in the 1960s and 70s tele­vi­sion show Colum­bo. But the art world will remem­ber a moment when Falk played him­self in Wim Wen­ders’ 1987 film, Wings of Desire. In the cred­its, he was list­ed sim­ply as ‘Der Film­star.’ This is our 1:46 trib­ute to Falk, who passed away Fri­day at age 83. H/T @SteveSilberman

Relat­ed:

Free Tarkovsky Films

Free Hitch­cock Films

Free John Wayne Films

Free Noir Films

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

Andy Warhol Eats a Burger King Whopper, and We Watch … and Watch

In 1982, Dan­ish film­mak­er Jør­gen Leth direct­ed 66 Scenes from Amer­i­ca, a film that stitched togeth­er a series of lengthy shots, each a visu­al post­card from a jour­ney across Amer­i­ca. And, tak­en togeth­er, you have a tableau of the Amer­i­can expe­ri­ence.

Along the way, the pop artist Andy Warhol makes his appear­ance. The man who coined the expres­sion “15 Min­utes of Fame” takes four min­utes to eat a ham­burg­er, most­ly with­out say­ing a word. And sim­ply because of his fame, we watch … and watch. About this scene Leth gives a few details:

[Warhol] is told that he has to say his name and that he should do so when he has fin­ished per­form­ing his action, but what hap­pens is that the action takes a very long time to per­form; it’s sim­ply ago­niz­ing. I have to admit that I per­son­al­ly adore that, because its a pure homage to Warhol. It could­n’t be more War­ho­lesque. That’s of course why he agreed to do it.

This was pre­sum­ably not a paid place­ment by Burg­er King.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Warhol’s Screen Tests: Lou Reed, Den­nis Hop­per, Nico, and More

Three “Anti-Films” by Andy Warhol: Sleep, Eat & Kiss

Andy Warhol’s ‘Screen Test’ of Bob Dylan: A Clas­sic Meet­ing of Egos

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 3 ) |

First Meeting Between Papua New Guinea Tribesmen & Outside World

Before click­ing on this extra­or­di­nary video — which shows a meet­ing of civ­i­liza­tions that may nev­er hap­pen again on our plan­et — be sure to turn the sound off and spare your­self the awful sound­track. The expres­sions on the faces of the Toulam­bi tribes­men are enough any­way, and even though his­to­ry tells us that these par­ties end bad­ly for the team with the fewest toys, you can’t help feel­ing a cer­tain amount of awe and joy while watch­ing the encounter.

This footage was shot in Papua New Guinea by Jean-Pierre Dutilleux, a Bel­gian film­mak­er and activist per­haps best known for his Acad­e­my Award-nom­i­nat­ed 1979 doc­u­men­tary Raoni: The Fight for the Ama­zon. You can vis­it Dutilleux’s web site to get more pho­tos and a lit­tle more back­sto­ry on the Toulam­bi. Have a good week­end…

via Metafil­ter

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

The Animals of Costa Rica, Up Close

Over at Escape Into Life, Luke Grundy directs us to a mar­velous short film that is as decep­tive­ly sim­ple as its title would sug­gest.  At first view­ing we thought the effect of LA film­mak­er Dou­glas Bur­gof­f’s “Ani­mals” should be cred­it­ed most­ly to the haunt­ing music by famed British com­pos­er Michael Nyman. But then we watched it again with the sound off, and we were just as impressed as before, if not more so. Just take a look at the series of close-ups on the mon­key’s face between the 1:54 and 2:14 marks.

via Matthias Rasch­er

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

War & Peace: An Epic of Soviet Cinema

War_and_Peace_poster,_1967

It’s hard to do cin­e­mat­ic jus­tice to any good nov­el, let alone the great­est of Rus­si­a’s many great nov­els, Leo Tol­stoy’s War & Peace. But Sovi­et direc­tor Sergei Bon­darchuk some­how man­aged to pull it off. Review­ing Bon­darchuk’s film back in 1969, a young Roger Ebert wrote:

“War and Peace” is the defin­i­tive epic of all time. It is hard to imag­ine that cir­cum­stances will ever again com­bine to make a more spec­tac­u­lar, expen­sive, and — yes — splen­did movie. Per­haps that’s just as well; epics seem to be going out of favor, replaced instead by small­er, more per­son­al films. Per­haps this great­est of the epics will be one of the last, bring­ing the epic form to its ulti­mate state­ment and at the same time sup­ply­ing the epi­taph.

No cor­ners were cut, and no expens­es spared, in mak­ing the film. Indeed, the film (avail­able on DVD here) was made “at a cost of $100,000,000, with a cast of 120,000, all clothed in authen­tic uni­forms, and the Red Army was mobi­lized to recre­ate Napoleon’s bat­tles exact­ly (it is claimed) as they hap­pened.” What’s more, 35,000 cos­tumes were made for the pro­duc­tion, and many Sovi­et muse­ums con­tributed arti­facts for the pro­duc­tion design. That’s stag­ger­ing, even by today’s stan­dards.

Released in four parts between 1965 and 1967, the Acad­e­my Award-win­ning film runs more than sev­en hours and you can now find it play­ing on YouTube. You can watch Part 1 here, and here you have Part 2Part 3 and Part 4. And if you need sub­ti­tles, click CC at the bot­tom of the videos. The film is, of course, list­ed in our col­lec­tion of Free Movies Online.

Thanks Ammar for the heads up on this film!

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 9 ) |

Un Chien Andalou: Revisiting Buñuel and Dalí’s Surrealist Film

The New York Times has post­ed A.O. Scot­t’s 3‑minute look back at the 1929 short film Un Chien Andalou. Scott describes the sur­re­al­ist clas­sic, a col­lab­o­ra­tion between painter Sal­vador Dalí and a very young first-time film­mak­er Luis Buñuel, as an “old dog with an end­less sup­ply of new tricks.” The short­’s pro­ces­sion of seem­ing­ly absurd, uncon­nect­ed images, he adds, does not fol­low the log­ic of nar­ra­tive but rather the “log­ic of dreams.”

Even though its most famous (or infa­mous) images — a sev­ered hand, a hand cov­ered with ants, and most final­ly a hand slic­ing into a wom­an’s eye­ball with a razor blade —  seem less shock­ing now than they did 80 years ago, Un Chien Andalou is still a plea­sure. Our real­i­ty has changed since the 20s. Our dreams, less so.

You can watch Un Chien Andalou in its entire­ty, along with L’Âge d’Or, anoth­er Buñuel/Dalí pro­duc­tion, in our col­lec­tion of Free Online Movies. But pro­ceed with cau­tion: About 25 years ago, I slipped a copy into the fam­i­ly VCR, expect­ing a cute car­toon about an Andalu­sian dog. I’m still recov­er­ing.

Relat­ed:

Sal­vador Dali (and Oth­er VIPs) on “What’s My Line?”

Sheer­ly Avni is a San Fran­cis­co-based arts and cul­ture writer. Her work has appeared in Salon, LA Week­ly, Moth­er Jones, and many oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low her on twit­ter at @sheerly.

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast