Francis Ford Coppola (May)

"I think it's better to be overly ambitious and fail than to be under-ambitious and succeed in a mundane way. I have been very fortunate. I failed upward in my life!"

Francis Ford Coppola is a difficult filmmaker to write about in the scope of this project. Going into 2015, I had already seen The Godfather, The Godfather Part II, and The Conversation. They happen to be three of my favorite and most-respected movies. With this in mind, I had very high hopes for Apocolypse Now (which I had seen parts of here and there) and didn't really know what to think of Rumble Fish, The Outsiders, and American Graffiti (which Coppola only produced).

I watched Apocolypse Now first and loved it. Loved it. It's the best movie I've watched this year with astonishing performances throughout. When you read about the turmoil behind the scenes, it's even more amazing that such a wonderful polished product came out the other end. This film easily could've never made it to print, like another Lost in La Mancha. I haven't gotten my hands on the making-of documentary Heart of Darkness: A Filmmaker's Apocolypse that Francis' wife Eleanor directed, but I'd like to. In fact, I was so smitten with the movie that I grabbed the novella Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad and read it within about 36 hours of finishing the movie. I might catch flak for this, but I preferred the film to the source material.

Anyways, after watching that triumph, I turned to American Graffiti. What can I say about this film? It's a classic, and it always makes me smile to know that teenagers have been doing the same stupid things for about 75 years. The back story to this one (and honestly, the whole story of the Coppola-Lucas-Spielberg friendship) is also quite fascinating, and led directly to the production of Apocolypse Now. I doubt I'd ever need to re-watch this one, but I'm glad I've seen it the whole way through now.

Which leaves us with the two S.E. Hinton adaptations, The Outsiders and Rumble Fish, released in the same calendar year. I don't really know what to make of these movies. They're both decently well-liked, and the former has a truly stellar ensemble cast. I'm glad I've seen the "stay golden, pony boy" line now with my own eyes. But frankly, I found these movies odd, scatterbrained, and often dull. The denim-gangs-getting-into-trouble story was similar in both films, and I was thoroughly confused by the chemically-colored fish in the otherwise black and white Rumble Fish. Mickey Rourke was quite good-looking in his day, though. That's about the highest praise I can shell out for these movies.

• American Graffiti (1973) - 7
• Apocolypse Now (1979) - 9.5
• The Outsiders (1983) - 6
• Rumble Fish (1983) - 5.5

The Coppola name/family is now basically an entire industry in Hollywood, but the patriarch who started it all hasn't made a well-liked movie in about three decades. After making some of the most beloved movies of all time, that's a pretty tough break- sorry Francis. Anyways next up are the fantastic films of Pedro Almodovar!!!

Federico Fellini (April)

"All art is autobiographical. The pearl is the oyster's autobiography."

Watching Fellini's films is a wild ride through a history of the man, a history of film technique, and history itself. As the above quote suggests, Fellini left a lot of himself in each of his works, but over the course of his life the style of his work changed radically. He came out of the age of Italian Neo-Realism in which films were severely "authentic" in stark contrast to the French New Wave stylizations that would follow. His early films in the 1950's were of this type, including La Strada which was one of my favorites. The man himself might disagree with these characterizations and categorizations, having once said "realism is a bad word. I see no line between the imaginary and the real." Moving forward in time, Fellini would go on to create some of the most beloved films in all of cinema, La Dolce Vita, 8 1/2, and Amarcord. As expected, I enjoyed these movies as well.

As I mentioned, Fellini started out in realism and then migrated towards more stylized artsy fare. His work can be divided into eras and decade: realism (50s), stylization (60s), and nostalgia (70s). La Dolce Vita was the bridge between the first two groups, and caused quite an uproar upon its release due to its fervent sexuality. The films tend towards the long-side, but they have a kind of necessary momentum to them that fuels them forward from the start to the end. Apparently Fellini filmed chronologically and didn't review his footage before moving on to the next scenes. Ray Bradbury quoted him as saying, "Don't tell me what I'm doing. I don't want to know." His artsier movies, 8 1/2 and Fellini Satyricon are easy to get lost in. There are dreamlike visuals that demand study, but the next scene is underway before the last is clearly understood. In 8 1/2 this momentum works. Many filmmakers have tried to make a "meta" movie about filmmaking (this was Fellini's 8 1/2th film, having made 7 and a short before this), but few have succeeded in making it so dramatic, so complicated, so compelling, and so gorgeous. In fact I can't think of any, other than maybe Contempt which I watched earlier for this same project. On the other end of the spectrum, I found Fellini Satyricon (so named because "Satyricon" had a copyright issue) to be sloppy and extremely difficult to stay engaged with. The visuals are striking, for sure, but the plot and story (mostly just ancient myths) were all over the place. Though it came last, I actually watched Amarcord first. It surprised me with its frank look at religion, sexuality, and other such themes subtly tucked into a bildungsroman story in a small Italian town. It was funny too, which I always appreciate.

I had never seen any Fellini before this project, and now it's easy for me to understand why the man is so highly regarded. He dealt with depression and other demons throughout his life, but he never hesitated to turn the script and camera inward to take a serious and interesting look at himself through the lens of art. He shared this art with the world, and the world is better for it.

• La Strada (1954) - 8.5
• La Dolce Vita (1960) - 8
• 8 1/2 (1963) - 8.5
• Fellini Satyricon (1969) - 5
• Amarcord (1973) - 7.5

Next up is Francis Ford Coppola. 

Robert Altman (March)

"Maybe there's a chance to get back to grown-up films. Anything that uses humor and dramatic values to deal with human emotions and gets down to what people are to people."

My lack of familiarity with Robert Altman's body of work was deeply troubling to me leading up to this little experiment, so he was one of the few directors I had chosen for the list right from the start. The only Altman I'd seen before the month of March 2015 was Popeye, and even that I don't remember at all (probably for the best). But Altman's big hits had always loomed over me begging to be seen, so of course I had to choose MASH, Nashville, and McCabe & Mrs. Miller. Beyond those three I wasn't quite sure- I had been reading a bit of Raymond Chandler so I threw The Long Goodbye on there and I confused Raymond Carver with him so I also added Short Cuts to my queue. Even after I realized my mix-up I was excited for that one but alas, Netflix did not have it available (even on disc! the horror!). I wanted one more so I chose The Player over Gosford Park, being a fan of Hollywood meta-strories and Tim Robbins and all.

Of course, I would soon find out that Altman is just as meandering as Wong Kar Wai or Terrence Malick on their slow days. The movies aren't plotless per se, but they do have an interesting "let's-just-see-what-happens" sensibility. I liked these better than the other guys' though, and I'm having a hard time articulating why. Perhaps it was the casting: Elliot Gould, Warren Beatty, Tim Robbins, and other effortlessly charismatic leading men can't help but enrapture an audience. Also, the dry humor and self-awareness sprinkled throughout these movies meant you could never quite get bored, even if the anti-story began to drag. At any rate, I can see why MASH, Nashville, and McCabe & Mrs. Miller are all pretty much universally lauded as classics, and I also enjoyed The Long Goodbye and The Player.

Unlike some of the other directors I've watched for this project, Altman seemed to have a lot more fun behind the camera. Certain elements are definitely carefully plotted, but a lot of the time it felt like he let the actors slip into character and then just rolled film. How much of the aforementioned films were actually improvised is unclear, but perhaps that's a testament to how comfortable everybody really was that I can't tell! Anyways, these movies have definitely aged a bit (MASH in particular has quite a bit of racism that I wouldn't want to expose my hypothetical children to) but Altman has made a strong case for himself and is my second-favorite director from this project (behind Godard) so far. Note to self: if I ever make a movie, make sure to cast a ridiculously charming and handsome lead. Other note to self: find and watch Brewster McCloud; that movie sounds totally bonkers.

• MASH (1970) - 8
• McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971) - 8
• The Long Goodbye (1973) - 7
• Nashville (1975) - 7.5
• The Player (1992) - 6.5

For April: Fellini!

Alejandro Jodorowsky (March)

"My films are like clouds: their meaning keeps changing every minute."

There is only one reason Jodorowsky made this list of directors, and that is because I read Dune last year and became wholly obsessed with it. The timing of this obsession serendipitously coincided with the release of Jodorowsky's Dune, a documentary about the failed adaptation Alejandro tried to produce back in the day. The documentary showcases the director's gigantically ambitious plans for a film version of the classic novel; it also is a wild ride through the psychedelic art, music, and science-fiction movements of the 70s. Dali, Pink Floyd, and Geiger are all involved- seriously everyone should see this doc. Anyways, in the movie there are some brief clips from Jodorowsky's other works, and the sheer strangeness of those visuals intrigued me enough to seek out more.

Which brings me to the works themselves: El Topo, The Holy Mountain, and Santa Sangre. It's extremely difficult to review these movies in any sort of sensible way. They are so far "out there" in terms of their storylines and visuals that there is little I can compare them to. Jodorowsky is a mystic and a surrealist who doesn't shy away from the absurd or the obscene. There is graphic depiction of animal slaughter, sex, incest, and that's only scratching the surface. All three movies are very different, but each share striking visuals and themes such as family, perseverance, and religion. There is also usually a quest element. Beyond that I can only say that these are basically acid trips in cinema form. In fact, El Topo is one of the original "acid Westerns" which I can honestly say is a genre I had never heard of until I Wikipedia'd this movie.

Giving these films a numerical rating strikes me as exceedingly pointless. They shouldn't really be compared to any of the other movies I'm watching as a part of this exercise, except for maybe Satyricon by Fellini. People who happened to be in the room with me while I watched these called them "easily the weirdest movie I've ever seen" and (other than maybe Holy Motors) I can't think of much to disagree with them. By the way, these films aren't exactly meandering or plotless; in fact the story in Santa Sangre (of a circus boy who must act as his amputee mother's murderous hands) was very captivating and I think ripe for a remake. But they're so damn weird it's somewhat easy to forget that you're watching a movie with a distinct beginning, middle and end. One thing's for certain: the movies are better after having watched Jodorowsky talk about his process (in the documentary) because he's not simply a madman- there is a spark of genius lurking somewhere beneath the absurd.

• El Topo (1970) - 5.5
• The Holy Mountain (1973) - 6
• Santa Sangre (1989) - 6.5

By the way, everyone should peruse Jodorowsky's quotes; I had a helluva time just picking one out for the head of this post. I also enjoyed, "I am like the rain, I go where I'm needed" and "Failure doesn't exist. It's only a change of direction." I for one am quite glad that that crazy old man is still out there trying to make art and movies. P.S. Robert Altman is on deck for March. 

Terrence Malick (February)

"I film quite a bit of footage, then edit. Changes before your eyes, things you can do and things you can't. My attitude is always 'let it keep rolling.'"


Terrence Malick's films make Wong Kar Wai's looks downright compact. Malick is famous for shooting hundreds and hundreds of hours of footage and then editing until the last possible minute before the premiere. After starring in a more recent Malick flick (To The Wonder), Ben Affleck tellingly said, "Terry uses actors in a different way- he'll [have the camera] on you and then tilt up and go up to a tree, so you think, 'Who's more important in this- me or the tree?' But you don't ask him, because you don't want to know the answer." Earlier in the same interview, Affleck had also mentioned, "...I realized that he was accumulating colors that he would use to paint with later in the editing room." Painting in the editing room seems to be the name of the game for Malick, who often cuts away from "action" (little that there is) to scenery or wildlife. He also loves to utilize voiceover, which adds to the surreal dreamlike quality of these movies. His films are highly stylized art pieces, often hewing closer to visual poems than narrative fiction with clear distinctions between beginning, middle and end. For the most part, somehow, he can usually make it work.

And say what you will about the guy, but damn can he put together an impressive cast. Over the years he's worked with Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Jessica Chastain, Martin Sheen, Ben Affleck, Sissy Spacek, Richard Gere, Nick Nolte, Sean Penn, Jim Caviezel, Adrien Brody, John Cusack, Woody Harrelson, John C. Reilly, Jared Leto, John Travolta, Nick Stahl, Colin Farrell, Christopher Plummer, Christian Bale, Olga Kurylenko, Rachel McAdams, Javier Bardem and more. And that's just in 6 or so movies, and sometimes his A-list actors end up on the cutting room floor! It's mind-bending.

ANYHOO, going into this project I had seen The New World (I didn't enjoy this movie but it was lit naturally and looked beautiful) and The Tree Of Life (I actually denied having seen this because I couldn't make heads or tails of it or my emotional response to it. I think it was... good...maybe?). After decades of incredibly sparse output (2 movies in 30 years), Malick would release 3 movies and schedule 2 more in the 2010s. These new ones were not on my must-see list. Rather, I went back to the beginning and watched his first three movies: Badlands, Days of Heaven, and The Thin Red Line. 

Badlands was very good, and you can tell it was made in 1973 because it somehow has a PG rating despite being about patricide (although I guess some Disney movies are as well). Martin Sheen is a great Rebel-without-a-cause-style Canadian-tuxedo-wearing badass, and Sissy Spacek is good as his impressionable young love interest. The song from True Romance is at play here too, which my old roommate Andy was shocked to discover. The movie meanders a bit. Days of Heaven was less enjoyable to me, although it's fun to watch a young Richard Gere and the scenes at the farm (especially with the fire) were all beautiful. The movie meanders quite a bit. The Thin Red Line is the meandering-est of all and was pretty difficult for me to follow closely. Apparently the movie went way over-budget, and I feel like most of that is because Malick assembled one of the greatest ensemble casts in movie history but spent hours filming iguanas. But that's his style and the movie was nominated for 7 Oscars, so what do I know? Anyway it was nice to finally watch these but I doubt I'd ever feel very compelled to rewatch them. Cheryl Gibson said to me they're a bit more like computer screen savers than movies, and depending on the moment and the movie I pretty much agree with her. They're damn poetic screen savers though.

• Badlands (1973) - 7.5
• Days of Heaven (1978) - 6
• The Thin Red Line (1998) - 7

Next up is the weird wacky world of Alejandro Jodorowsky.

Wong Kar Wai (January)

"I'm not coming from film school. I learned cinema in the cinema watching films, so you always have a curiosity. I saw, "Well, what if I make a film in this genre? What if I make this film like this?'"

Making this list of directors was an extremely inexact science, so I can't remember exactly how Wong Kar Wai ended up on it. I do know that I had never really heard of him before and I definitely hadn't seen any of his movies, so this would be a totally novel experience. I chose four of his movies, Chungking Express, In the Mood For Love, 2046, and The Grandmaster but in the end I would only watch three. Full-blown honest opinion: these movies failed to really hold my attention. Wai is known as a "Hong Kong Second Wave" filmmaker alongside Fruit Chan and others, but I've seen some of Fruit Chan's movies and they are frightfully engaging. Wai's movies (like a few other directors' I would come to watch) tend to meander through (admittedly lovely) set pieces and the plots are thin, to be generous. I know I'm being overly harsh here because there were definitely things to appreciate in these movies, and I'm probably failing to acknowledge the backdrop of making art under an oppressive or semi-oppressive regime, but I don't really know enough about the cultural context to weigh in on that side of things.

So, onto the movies. Chungking Express features two stories about lonely men in a densely packed city (mostly in a train station / bazaar). The film does a great job of juxtaposing these sad men against bright, neon lights and poppy (often American) music. I almost wish I had watched the movie without subtitles because there are no shortage of interesting compositions. That said, I fell asleep watching it. My favorite scene involved a recently dumped cop who buys canned pineapples everyday with an expiration date of May 1st, that date representing the final expiration date of his old relationship and chance for love rekindled. Then he eats all of the pineapple at once. I can't adequately explain why I enjoyed this so much.

In The Mood For Love came next and was similar in its interesting compositions and not-so-interesting storylines. I'm probably in the minority with that opinion- the film was nominated for a Palm d'Or after all. It's a period piece that takes place in the 60's about a man and a woman who decide their respective spouses have been seeing other people and strike up a romance themselves. The sets are busy, the shots are eye-catching, and the costumes are quite nice. Something about the pacing and the dialogue simply failed to engage me I suppose. I have friends in the film world who absolutely swear by this director or call him their favorite but the draw just isn't there for me. After watching this one I managed to watch The Grandmaster which was an extremely artsy take on the oft-told Ip Man story. The cinematography in this one felt quite different from the former two (not in a bad way) and garnered Academy Award nominations for cinematography and costumes. Despite being a martial arts movie with plenty of slo-mo fighting scenes, it still felt dull to me throughout. I bailed on 2046 and any other aspirations I had after having felt that I had given this director the old college try- we just didn't quite click.

• Chungking Express (1994) - 6/10
• In The Mood For Love (2000) - 6/10
• The Grandmaster (2013) - 5.5/10

Jean Luc-Godard (January)

"All you need for a movie is a girl and a gun."

Going into my 2015 director's challenge I already knew I would enjoy seeing more Godard. Breathless is a classic for a reason and Band Of Outsiders is one of my absolute favorites. Realizing how little of Godard's work I'd seen was actually part of the impetus for this whole experiment, so "thanks" you old French weirdo.

For the vast majority of these movies, Netflix discs would be the option that served me best. Being an eager beaver however, I decided to rent Contempt on my iPad and watch it on the plane ride from Chicago back to L.A. on January 4th. This was not my wisest move- Contempt has a lot of female nudity. I dimmed the screen and hoped the people sitting on either side of me weren't too nosy. The movie itself was wonderful; there was a lot to digest. It is apparently based on a book, but the characters are also meant to represent Godard, his wife, and the film's distributor (or perhaps all Hollywood types). The French New Wave directors didn't play by cinema's rules and Godard took an unsubtle jab at all executives, distributors, and producers who would dare insert themselves into the creative process. Moreover, the main characters' dilapidating marriage provides an essential emotional core to the film which might otherwise be construed as pseudo-intellectual or overtly meta. Casting Fritz Lang as the director of the in-movie movie (whose characters' drama also parallels the drama of the actors playing them) is another nice touch.

The story, the script, the casting, the locations, the color palette, the meta-narrative, the pacing, etc; everything is working here. There are so many individual elements that can elevate or detract from a movie's success that Godard just doesn't seem to worry about- he really makes it look effortless. My friend Dusty once complained that it seemed like Godard could shake his arms and classic movies would fall out of his sleeves. Contempt is a prime example of that.

Pierrot le Fou was my next favorite of the four I watched. Godard isn't the only director to work with an attractive actress, marry her, and then cast her in a bunch of stuff (looking at you Fellini) but it's hard to argue that there was a more effective pair than Jean-Luc and Anna Karina. She shines in Pierrot as the flighty, sing-songy lead, and I might describe this movie as the New Waviest of all that I watched. Karina is grand in Vivre Sa Vie as well; the movie about the rise and fall of a prostitute told in twelve chapters. She also appeared in Alphaville which was my least favorite of the four I watched, but that's not to say it's bad. Alphaville was apparently quite influential to a lot of sci-fi that followed, despite having no visual or practical effects whatsoever. Dystopian YA movies of today, take note.

Even adding these four movies to the two Godard's I'd already seen, I'm still woefully ignorant concerning most of the auteur's prolific body of work. One day I'll circle back and see Two or Three Things I Know About Her and Week End. It's also worth mentioning that Godard was making more than one movie a year for most of the 60s- like I said, putting out classics for him was like changing the linens is for me. Twice a year plus we make it look easy.

• Contempt (1963) - 8.5/10
• Vivre Sa Vie (1962) - 7.5/10
• Pierrot le Fou (1965) - 8/10
• Alphaville (1964) - 6/10

To close, here are a few more indicative Godard quotes that I enjoy:

"Cinema is the most beautiful fraud in the world."
"I pity the French cinema because it has no money. I pity the American cinema because it has no ideas."
"I don't think you should feel about a film. You should feel about a woman, not a movie. You can't kiss a movie."

Keep doing you, Jean-Luc. Next up, Wong Kar Wai.