THE CONVERSATION (1974)

The cows are visited by longtime San Francisco resident and old friend Robert Pierce to discuss Francis Ford Coppola’s 70s paranoia thriller. Situated in the tumultuous transition period of the mid-1970s, the movie captures the cynicism of a generation slowly being engulfed by the temptations of urban renewal and fears of privacy violations. We consider how Coppola and Hackman craft a compelling character study out of a protagonist riddled with contradictions by injecting elements of their own life into the story. We also explore the pragmatics of focal stress and marvel at humans’ ability to understand complex nuances of language and film conventions without conscious thought.

Our guest this week, Robert Pierce, worked for years as a photographer and videographer for the Central Subway Project in San Francisco. During that time, he got to know the city intimately, and brings his unique perspective on the locations and context of The Conversation. Below are some of Robert’s photos of San Francisco.

He’d kill us if he got the chance.

Mark

                 

EXCALIBUR (1981)

The cows revisit the Arthurian legend with Bilge Ebiri (New York Magazine and Vulture). We discuss how the film weaves together opera and Jungian archetypes while exploring humanity’s complex and often violent relationship with nature, the challenges of self-governance, the allure of a benevolent dictator, and the tragedy befalling the virtuous leader who desires not to lead. Thematic links to the rest of Boorman’s filmography are considered, as well as how Excalibur compares with other portrayals of the quest for the Holy Grail.

Taking its cue from the stage, Boorman’s masterful epic strips down the Arthurian legend to its basic elements. Characters here are mere archetypes, distillations of attributes exhibited in various degrees by all of us, while the narrative excludes anything not essential to the plot. The result is the film equivalent of Wagnerian opera, a tragic prehistory of mankind recounting the conflicts that seeded our collective neuroses. // Blobcat

It is the doom of men that they forget.

Merlin

                 

HAPPY GILMORE (1996)

The cows hit the links with Tim Gilman (WMBR 88.1 FM Boston) to finish off 1996 with a comedy that just might be a bit deeper than it lets on. Why is Happy so angry? Could it be in reaction to the contempt shown by the moneyed elite to the working class, a response that reflects the current rise in popularity of populist demagogues across the world? Or might it be a reflection of his inner turmoil at being terrible at what he loves most? Along the way, we discuss our obligations to care for our elders, property tax rates in Connecticut, the joys of Christopher McDonald as Shooter McGavin, and the worst athlete commercials of all time.

Quite a large and economically diverse crowd here at the Michelob Invitational. 

Verne Lundquist

                 

BONUS EPISODE: ON THE ROCKS (2020)

The cows watched Sofia Coppola’s latest and came to very different conclusions, which necessitated an emergency episode to sort it all out. Join us for a maybe autobiographical discussion of the complexities of modern parenting, gendered divisions of cognitive labor, and not losing yourself when asked to shoulder the emotional labor of your friends and family. 

Here’s my silly Letterboxd review:

The origin of the idiom “on the rocks” comes from the literal description of a shipwreck, and, like those poor ships who missed the tell-tale signs of land and ended up in shallower waters than they could handle, our heroine Laura is adrift dangerously close to shore without a lighthouse. That is, until the sudden interest of her father in her husband’s possible extramarital affairs reinvigorates her Electra complex, spurring a perfunctory family adventure that culminates anemically and predictably in safe harbor. 

Here’s another, more lively, read. Prometheus was chained on the rocks by Zeus for bringing the gods’ fire to humans. Thought of this way, for a relationship to be “on the rocks” is for it to be suffering precisely because of what its members know about themselves and each other, information perhaps gained illicitly, or by simply coming to better know oneself and ones desires. Unlike poor Prometheus, however, a failing relationship is salvageable—but there’s no going back to the pre-fire state of ignorance. Some changes must be borne mutually or not at all. // Blobcat

I think I’m going deaf. I can hear everything fine, except women’s voices. 

Felix

                 

FARGO (1996)

The cows freeze in Minnesota with friend Molly Perkins in this revisit to the Coen Brothers’ 1996 folktale noir. Themes of faith, deception, encounters with the inexplicable, Scandinavian roots, and ecstatic truth are all discussed, along with highlights of favorite supporting cast members and a head-to-head comparison of psycho killers Gaear Grimsrud (Peter Stormare) and Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem).

A fake folktale about the choices we make and our inability to make sense of it all. Yet, unlike in other Cohen films, and unlike the characters in this, we the audience are shown enough to find our way through the chaos and understand how the disparate elements fit together. It’s a compelling trick that makes this film the optimistic sibling to No Country’s unrelenting nihilism or A Serious Man’s quizzical frustration.

I’m not sure I 100% agree with your police work there, Lou.

Marge Gunderson

                 

SPACE JAM / KAZAAM (1996)

Join the two cows on their journey into the world of fantasy basketball-star-crossover vehicles, featuring guest Vishal Dave! It’s 1996 and Michael Jordan is fresh back from retirement, ready to take on the Monstars and save the NBA from a bunch of talentless hacks. Is there a tragic emptiness at the core of Space Jam, marked by Jordan’s self-destructive quest for dominance? And how does it compare to what might be its polar opposite — Kazaam, a rapping genie movie about a child who comes to accept the imperfections of his parents, starring the ebullient Shaquille O’Neal? Tune in to find out and dig in to some mid-nineties pop classics!

Space Jam

Sometimes all a celebrity hero athlete wants is to live a normal life among the non-sycophantic, except when that person is Michael Jordan, whose legendary competitiveness never met a bet he wouldn’t double down on. Here, the stakes become life and death when MJ wagers a lifetime of having to please fans for the chance to win back his friends’ powers and save the Looney Toons. Not a smart move, but you don’t get to the top without some ill advised bets on yourself. 

Kazaam

Max has three wishes and three father figures to boot, but he isn’t sure whether he ultimately wants to save his biological father, accept his adoptive father, or make friends with his genie father. Shaq is winning as the titular Kazaam, even when making a fool of himself rapping and shooting sparks out of his boombox.

Shoulda seen us last night in Malick’s limo, just chillin, eat goat eyes, just chillin.

Kazaam

                 

BOTTLE ROCKET / HARD EIGHT (1996)

The cows are joined by Mattia Acetoso to discuss the feature debuts of Wes and Paul Thomas Anderson. What might we learn about these original and influential directors’ first films? Both movies center around misfits who retreat from a random and often harsh reality to form their own surrogate families and find new ways of living. Along the way, genres are subverted, narratives obfuscated, and souls redeemed.

Just hear me out. It’s called hinckley cold storage. Here are just a few key ingredients: dynamite, pole vaulting, laughing gas, choppers. Can you see how incredible this is going to be? Hang-gliding, come on!

Dignan

                 

SCREAM / THE CRAFT (1996)

The two cows discuss the social complexity of female high school friendships and the sexual politics of teen horror in their reappraisal of these two ’96 classics. They explore how cliques can provide social insulation as well as opportunities for emotional manipulation, and consider how the “horror movie rules” encode a Puritanical ethics towards sex and drugs while also aiming to satisfy the male gaze by providing copious instances of such behavior.

Despite its meta-horror trappings, there’s a story about friendship and grief and a cautionary tale about getting in with a bad crowd simmering underneath Scream. Sidney is struggling to come to terms with the fact that her mom might not have been as innocent as she imagined, helped along in this regard by her loyal friend Tatum, and maybe, were it not for the impatient machinations of her boyfriend Billy, she would have realized on her own terms that condemning Cotton Weary (has their been a better name in the history of film?) won’t change the fact that her mom was who she was and is now gone. 

A bad apple Billy is, all the way through, poisoning the minds of everyone around him, including Sidney, whom he gaslights relentlessly, but also his partner in crime Stuart, whose pathetic motive (peer pressure) betrays a perhaps singular devotion to his rotten friend. Billy’s foil is the weirdo third wheel Randy—probably the best-hearted of the bunch—who has a thing for Sidney (maybe he recognizes the “scream queen final girl” in her all along) but for that reason will never have the kind of connection with Sidney that she shares with Tatum. Correctly identifying the killer before the halfway point, Randy’s all knowing persona (he is right that they are in a horror film and thus subject to horror tropes, even convoluted metatextual ones) makes him the Cassandra to Sidney’s Demeter. 

It’s the millennium; motives are incidental.

Randy Meeks

                 

INDEPENDENCE DAY (1996)

The two cows start their journey through 1996 at its blockbuster peak, revisiting Roland Emmerich’s game-changing blow everything up alien disaster extravaganza, Independence Day. What made the 1990s such a fertile time for disaster flicks, and what makes ID4 one of the best movie star vehicles ever? The cows also explore neoconservative themes of US military dominance on the world stage, and discuss the case for Randy Quaid being the emotional center of the film. 

Picture, if you will, a more innocent time, when a summer blockbuster in which NY, DC, and LA are gratuitously destroyed, giving rise to a post-Cold War neoconservative fantasy of a world united around American exceptionalism and ingenuity, starring a nerdy, unambitious, Jew and a brash black sitcom star and helmed by an openly gay director known for schlocky sci-fi action, could be the movie hit of the year. Welcome to 1996.

I can fly. I’m pilot.

Russell Casse

                 

MULHOLLAND DRIVE (2001)

The cows take a drive with Abe and Agnes Callard and Ryan Clark into David Lynch’s fantastical and depraved version of Los Angeles. What mysteries will they find in Club Silencio, or on the set of the Sylvia North Story? What explains the continued appeal of Lynch’s absurdist masterpiece? How does he deploy narrative and filmic tropes to subvert his audience’s expectations and what are we to make of the often frustrating and contradictory results?

This is the girl.

Luigi Castigliane / Adam Kesher / Diane Selwyn