Film Review: Festival in Cannes

 "Festival in Cannes"

  *** (out of ****)

This review is dedicated to filmmaker Henry Jaglom, who passed away on September 22, 2025 at the age of 87.

"Festival in Cannes" (2002) was the first film I ever saw in a movie theater directed by the late Henry Jaglom. It was an experience that has stayed with me all of these years later; and one that I fondly recalled upon hearing of the recent passing of the sometimes maverick, independent filmmaker.

I had come across a mixed review of Jaglom's film in the Chicago Tribune, written by movie critic Michael Wilmington, who called the film an "acid valentine". He went on to describe the film as having "moments that are marvelously fresh and alive and others that seem a bit half-baked." Despite my great admiration for Wilmington, I had decided to take a chance and see "Cannes". I thought sometimes really good films go under the radar and are ignored by the public. Perhaps "Festival in Cannes" would turn out to be another example of that.

The film was only playing in one theater in Chicago and was practically empty. That didn't deter me but seemed to validate my initial suspicions of the American movie going public's taste. And then the film started. French music played over a montage of celebrities at the Cannes film festival throughout the years. This, I immediately thought, was going to be both a celebration of cinema and a satirical look at the behind the scenes world of the industry. The question was what kind of insights would Henry Jaglom have, who ever he was?

It wasn't until after I had seen "Festival in Cannes" that I would come to know who Henry Jaglom indeed was. He was an uncredited editor on the film "Easy Rider" (1969), the emblematic film of "New Hollywood" representing a major shift in film culture. Jaglom, though not as universally well known, was part of this movement of young filmmakers creating a generational transformation in the late 1960s / early 70s which included Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Peter Bogdanovich and Woody Allen among others. Jaglom would make his directorial debut a couple years after "Easy Rider" with his film, "A Safe Place" (1971) starring Tuesday Weld with roles for Jack Nicholson and Orson Welles, for whom Jaglom would become a trusted confidant to, as highlighted in Jaglom's book, My Lunches with Orson.

Jaglom spent his career working outside of the Hollywood studio system. It may have costed him greater fame, bigger budgets, and the opportunity to work with major stars but he would have lost something important in the process; his artistic freedom. Jaglom knew what Hollywood could do to an artist. He understood the movers and shakers; and all that had to go into getting a film into production. "Festival in Cannes" in some ways is a biting look into this kind of deal making. If you aren't familiar with Jaglom's work and his interests however that may be all you'll think the film is about. Jaglom had often centered his films around relationships between men and women and their search for love. 

In "Cannes" Jaglom juxtaposes the Hollywood deal making with characters seemingly falling in love with each other. That may hit at the true intent of Jaglom's film; what is the difference between lying to secure a film deal and the lying men do to manipulate women into falling in love with them? In the end it is all the same. Take for example a scene between a middle-aged actress, Alice Palmer (Greta Scacchi) and a renowned older leading lady, Millie Marquand (Anouk Aimee). They are discussing the limitations that come along with growing older in the business and the lack of roles available to women "of a certain age". Men, they both say, have trained women to only find value in themselves through their looks. The actresses almost hunger to hear men tell them they are beautiful. "Festival in Cannes" is filled with a lot of little moments like this. At first glance it seems to be distracting us from the "bigger story" of the deal making but quietly these scenes, I suspect, are really the true point Jaglom wants to make. 

As "Festival in Cannes" begins we learn Alice would like to direct her first feature film. Alice wants to make a "personal film". The kind of film Hollywood doesn't make anymore. In Alice's film it would center on a 60ish year old woman who after years of giving herself to her family would find time for herself. While in Cannes, for the film festival, Alice and her co-writers are approached by a film producer, Kaz Naiman (Zack Norman, who sadly passed away last year). Alice is originally apprehensive of Kaz, who she feels is a bit of a slimy mover-and-shaker, but Kaz has a certain charm about him. He is confident and very generous with his praise. So when Kaz says he has secured three million dollars for Alice's picture, suddenly she is all ears. There is a hitch however. The money comes with the condition the famed French actress Millie Marquand star in the film. This would be a major compromise for Alice, who had envisioned Gene Rowlands playing the role. In fact she told Kaz, the character was written with Rowlands in mind. It is funny though, with three million dollars dangling before her, Alice now thinks Millie may be perfect in the part. The conflict is a major Hollywood producer, Rick Yorkin (Ron Silver) is in town and wants to sign Millie in a new Tom Hanks film he is working on. Hanks will only do the film if Millie is in it. Which offer will Millie accept; the personal project that has meaning and is a starring role or the big budget Hollywood film where she can make a lot of money but will be given a supporting role?

On it's surface, that is the main thrust of the film but Jaglom juggles a lot of sub-plot lines into the story. One that the film spends some time on involves a young actress named Blue (Jenny Gabrielle) who is making her acting debut in a film that is generating lots of positive word-of-mouth and turning Blue into perhaps the next big thing. Blue is uncomfortable with the attention and the implications of what kind of life this could lead to. She meets Rick's assistant, Barry (Alex Craig Mann) and the two seem to be developing a very serious romance. 

This sub-plot mirrors two others; one that is between Rick and Alice and the other between Millie and Viktor (Maximilian Schell), her old lover and once a prominent filmmaker. Rick and Alice repeatedly get together as Rick tries his best to persuade Alice to either find another actress or change her shooting schedule to allow Millie to appear in the Hanks film first. By constantly meeting, "Festival in Cannes" almost suggest a romance could be blooming between these two as well. Meanwhile Millie and Viktor reminiscence about their past together and Millie asks Viktor for career advice. 

While there may be a natural tendency for an audience to become engage in the romance subplots between these characters, that isn't the point. The emphasis should be here are more examples of the shallow ways men interact with women. All Barry sees when he looks at Blue is a bright future in Hollywood. In one scene Barry and Rick get into an argument over Blue's career concerning what her next project should be. What complicates the scene is Blue is standing in front of both men. She is an afterthought in their conversation. No one asks her what would she like to do next. By contrasting Blue to Millie what Jaglom is doing is showing the audience the vicious cycle of the treatment of women in film. We are seeing how it starts and where it ends up. And comparing Blue's potential romance to Alice's, Jaglom is showcasing another cycle, this one less about film and more so about the performance of courtship. If you aren't immediately attuned to Jaglom's plot structure in "Cannes" you can miss the connection, which would make the film feel disjointed. That is probably why the otherwise very good New York Times critic Stephen Holden wrote in his review, "Many of the characters spend the movie badly lying to one another. Then suddenly, near the end, they pair off and begin hugging and dancing around. The abrupt change from bitter to warm-and-fuzzy doesn't compute." It isn't abrupt at all. Jaglom had been weaving this "contradiction" together from the start of the film.

If there was room however for audiences and critics to fail to see the link between these ideas, that speaks to a flaw of the film and Jaglom's inability to do a better job in guiding the audience's eyes. Like his hero Orson Welles, Jaglom is a trickster here making us think this is a biting movie satire when it really has other goals. Why is the film called "Festival in Cannes". Why does the poster show an actress dancing with a cell phone in her hand? Why did the movie's trailer focus on the deal making aspect? Did it all just help to make the film more marketable? Maybe. But now a lot of critics are going to misinterpret the film. Some critics had an inclination to not look so closely for meaning into Jaglom's films. He wasn't considered an "auteur" by their standards, which honestly wasn't fair. There were thematic links between all of his films. A Jaglom film was unmistakable.

The other flaw of the film in Jaglom's story is nothing feels resolved by the end of the film. Each character is wheeling and dealing and going back on their word. By the time the film ends we never see one contract signed. Instead the movie ends with two characters embracing, kissing each other. But even that is left up in the air. Will this couple, or any of the couples, actually stay together? Or does Cannes simply bring out the lover (or liar) in all of us?

For some though the Hollywood satire may be the more entertaining scenes in the film. They are more developed and add humor. "Festival in Cannes" wasn't quite at the level of Robert Altman's "The Player" (1992) - which itself was more than an industry satire but a morality study - but Jaglom also blends fact and fiction effortlessly together. When actors like William Shatner and Faye Dunaway appear on-screen, are they playing characters or do they appear as themselves? Much of the cinematography done by Jaglom regular Hanania Baer has a handheld shaky quality to it, as if this was all being secretly filmed on the Croisette. It creates an unnecessary and distracting contrast in styles.

What I loved most about "Cannes" however when I first saw it and now again revisiting it was Zack Norman's performance. Norman plays Kaz as a fast-talking, wild hand gesturing, at times overly confident charmer. It reminds me of Woody Allen. Think of Allen's performance in "Broadway Danny Rose" (1984). That's the upbeat tempo Norman is performing at. The downside is neither Norman or Jaglom have Allen's sense of humor and gift for one-liners. That would have taken Norman over the top. Norman would play a variation of this character in later Jaglom films such as "Hollywood Dreams" (2006) and "Queen of the Lot" (2010). But here Norman delivers one of his finest and funniest performances in a Jaglom film, on par with his work in "Sitting Ducks" (1980). 

In addition to Norman; Ron Silver, Anouk Aimee and Maximilian Schell all come out looking very good. This is the difference between having professional actors and amateurs, who Jaglom would sometimes cast in his films. When you are dealing with professionals they can make underdeveloped characters work because of their screen presence. They simply make you want to watch them. Aimee and Schell in particular are fascinating together making us believe they are a couple with a long history together. Even a cameo performance by the great Peter Bogdanovich is compelling and serves as another example of how men treat women. Listen carefully to his dialogue regarding Irene Dunne and the film "I Remember Mamma" (1948) and pay attention to how he treats his girlfriend (played by his real life wife Louise Stratten, the sister of Dorothy Stratten, who Bogdanovich once had an affair with).

"Festival in Cannes" was Jaglom's follow-up to his most mainstream film, "Deja Vu" (1998), which starred his than wife Victoria Foyt. Jaglom's work with Foyt represented a career high point - critically speaking - signifying a change of direction in Jaglom's films. He would no longer star in his own work and with Foyt co-writing the films, her input was able to add more dimension to the characters. "Last  Summer at the Hamptons" (1996) would be an example. She is sadly missing in this film, but to the two would collaborate on one more film together, "Going Shopping" (2005). Still "Cannes" secured some very good reviews from critics. Scott Foundas at Variety called this Jaglom's "quickest and funniest picture in years and his most accessible." while Rex Reed over at the New York Observer declared it "daffy, engrossing, enlightening, and entertaining".

The praise was well earned. While many critics often feel a director's later works don't equal their early successes; I've often argued against such thinking. Great filmmakers are capable of telling great stories throughout their career, but in the case of Henry Jaglom, I'd have to agree with the consensus. Jaglom's career went on a sad decline in his later years. "Festival in Cannes" was the last worthwhile film he directed, though he continued to make films until 2017 with "Train to Zakopane". It was in some ways a fitting end to his career as it told a very emotional story based on an experience Jaglom's father had. It seemed to have been a story Jaglom wanted to tell for a while. 

And that lends itself to what made Jaglom a sometimes divisive figure; the personal nature of his work. When reviewing Jaglom's "Venice / Venice" (1993), Chicago Sun-Times critic Roger Ebert wrote, "Jaglom has been more or less charting his life for a dozen years now, gathering his friends in front of the camera for mutual analysis, heavy on the psychobabble." Jaglom's films were personal diaries. We may not have known Jaglom in real life but you could tell what was on his mind by watching his films. To write a negative review of a Jaglom film was to write a negative review of Jaglom the man. He may have said bad reviews didn't bother him, but it most certainly bothered those around him. This wasn't unique to Jaglom as most filmmakers are dismissive of critics and protective of their work. But with Jaglom you were operating on a different level. A critic could be accused of personal insult just reviewing one of his films.

In a way it made Jaglom comparable to Francis Ford Coppola. Movies were a familial experience. Just as Coppola would cast his sister (Talia Shire), nephew (Nicholas Cage) and daughter (Sofia Coppola), so too would Jaglom cast wives and family into his films - Foyt, Patrice Townsend, Michael Emil, Tanna Frederick, and his children (Sabrina and Simon, who both appear in "Cannes").

While Jaglom was never appreciated at the same level as Scorsese, Coppola,  Altman or Mike Leigh - a fellow British compatriot - Jaglom was a maestro, though in a minor key. Jaglom's films didn't touch on the big subjects their work did, though he still made personal, quirky, and charming films. It was difficult not to admire his independent spirit, spending a career outside the Hollywood system. How many notable filmmakers come to mind that accomplished that? Off the top of my head only Roger Corman comes to my mind, another figure I admired.

In addition to directing movies, Jaglom was also a good actor, having studied with the legendary Lee Strasberg. He even taught acting as well. Outside of his own films, Jaglom appeared in Jack Nicholson's directorial effort, "Drive, He Said" (1971) and Dennis Hopper's "The Last Movie" (1971). Jaglom also spent a considerable amount of time directing in the theater. "Zakopane" for example was a theatrical play before Jaglom made it into a film. As was his film "Just 45 Minutes From Broadway" (2012). He was even the subject matter of a documentary, the aptly titled, "Who Is Henry Jaglom?" (1997).

Over the course of his career Jaglom directed 21 feature-length films and since the start of this blog, I have reviewed half of his films. He was one of the most reviewed directors on here. Although I haven't reviewed any of his films over the last few years, the thought of knowing there will never be a new Henry Jaglom film is sad. For those with an adventurous cinematic appetite, the films of Henry Jaglom may prove to be rewarding. I would suggest seeing his first film ("A Safe Place"), as well as "Tracks" (1977) with Dennis Hopper, "Sitting Ducks", "Someone to Love" (1987), "Last Summer at the Hamptons", "Deja Vu" and of course "Festival in Cannes".

"Festival in Cannes" can be an uneven experience but it has its pleasures - Zack Norman's performance among them. It is both a biting look at Hollywood and a revealing and disturbing look at how women are treated in Hollywood. Unfortunately that message in "Cannes" got lost in the critical reviews. It is what gives the film some of its heart and more sympathetic scenes, not to mention opportunities to give Scacchi and Aimee some fine acting moments. 

Film Review: Nashville - 50th Anniversary

 "Nashville"

 *** 1\2 (out of ****)

The very first shot in Robert Altman's "Nashville" (1975) is of a van pulling out of a garage. The van is part of the political campaign of a presidential candidate named Hal Walker. He is running for the Replacement Party's nomination. There is a loud speaker attached to the van blaring Walker's political ideology, the last words we hear before the audio is juxtaposed to the next scene is of Walker explaining how the people can make change. As these words are being spoken we hear a song being sung with lyrics stating we must have been doing something right to last two hundred years.

Within a few brief moments, Altman hits at one of the tensions in his often brilliant film; the (unfortunate) dance between art and politics. Both in their way offer a vision of America and her path forward. They each offer stories meant to interpret who we are as a people and define our expectations - We can create change! Stay the course, we are doing something right! From there Altman expands his story to hit on targets of celebrity, ambition, the media, religion, gender and the American Dream with effortless ease; weaving twenty-four characters in and out of a satire that captured the zeitgeist of the 1970s post-Nixon and Vietnam era.

Yet as "Nashville" celebrates its 50th anniversary we can see how relevant this story remains; given the ascension of celebrity in our politics - the man in the White House used to host a reality TV show - and constant media consumption on our smart phones. A poll conducted in September 2025, published in the Wall Street Journal found that 70% no longer believe the American Dream holds true. The comparisons between then and now are too many to enumerate. That is what makes Altman and screenwriter Joan Tewkesbury's approach to this material so sharp; they are able to slyly insert moments of dry humor. "Nashville" isn't a heavy-handed morality picture; it is somehow elevated to a kind of humanist, populist critique filled with country music. By some definitions you could consider it a musical.

The first time I saw Altman's film I didn't know what to make of it. Before a second viewing I decided to take film critic Roger Ebert's advice and would tell myself, the movie is about whatever it makes me feel. But that wasn't satisfying to me emotionally or intellectually. I had to dig deeper and look at the movie again and again until it made sense to me. Something wasn't clicking in my brain. Why couldn't I figure out this puzzle? Then a lightbulb went off in my head; the title! Why is the film called "Nashville"? What does the city of Nashville represent to everyday Americans? What did it represent in 1970s America? Nashville, I believe, is a city that has art as its identity through country music. What other city is so connected to an art form? New York has the theater; Los Angeles has the movie industry. Both could have been possible locations and titles but "Nashville" is also a city - at least as presented in this film - built on tradition, a respect for the past but also a friction between young and old artists.

That brings us back to the film's opening moments, which immediately establishes all of the film's central conflicts by contrasting them against each other; and so we see country music star Haven Hamilton (Henry Gibson) in a recording studio; singing a song called 200 Years clashed against a Gospel group's recording session, introducing us to Linnea Reese (Lily Tomlin); two songs representing God and country; thus showing us the different ways art can interpret society. 

God and country are interweaved throughout the film as  Altman leans in on a Bicentennial mood in "Nashville". The film is supposed to take place in 1976, which wouldn't have just been a presidential election year but the country's true Bicentennial year. It would be a time of great patriotic pride. A moment to celebrate the country's history, especially coming off of events from the recent past. But this is where Altman and Joan Tewkesbury sneak in their humor, in sometimes not-so-subtle fashion. "Nashville" ultimately shows us a country divided; a country with sexism, political violence, racial tension and differing cultural values. It is as if Altman is telling us, is this what you really want to celebrate? The following year  Altman would continue this critique on the country's past with his film "Buffalo Bill and the Indians" (1976), a film that examines the mythology of America. Both films would make a powerful double feature.

One of Altman's best visual presentations to capturing this American gridlock in "Nashville" is to have a major traffic accident happen fairly early in the film, after all of the key characters have been introduced. The traffic accident occurs while a country music version of the Star Spangled Banner plays on the soundtrack. Is this Altman's way of saying America is this multi-car traffic accident, a chain reaction of messy conflicts? Notice which vehicle is directly in the middle of this accident; the political van. Are politics in the middle of our societal standstill? 

In many ways it all comes back to that political van. Politics is at the center of "Nashville" and Altman's analysis of America's dilemma. Pay close attention to how Altman situations the van and people's reaction to it. Sometimes we see the van driving along the street. Other times we just hear the loudspeaker as the van drives out of frame. But what we never see is anyone interact with the van. No one stops walking to pay attention to the words. It is as if politics is a "noise" heard in the background of our society. People don't engage with it, they pay no attention to it, and yet it is all around us and because of that it seeps through. This becomes sadly evident when the film ends with an assassination attempt. In Pauline Kael's famous New Yorker review of the film she characterized it as "the insanity of a fundamentalist culture in which practically the whole population has been turned into groupies." This becomes another sad mirror to today's political violence.

Another early target in "Nashville" is the media. Whenever the media is shown in the film it is usually in relation to celebrity journalism. There is a long sequence that takes place at an airport where country music star Barbara Jean (Ronee Blakley) is expected to arrive. A reporter stands by with a live report and proceeds to gives us a very detailed play-by-play of the plane arriving, Barbara Jean getting off the plane, walking to a podium...etc. This is news? In the opening scenes we are introduced to Opal (Geraldine Chaplin) a reporter for the British Broadcasting Corporation. She is presented as celebrity obsessed and always missing the big story. She can be in a room where political wheeling and dealing is going on but all she notices is Elliot Gould is there. In Vincent Canby's New York Times review he described the character as a "reporter of such gross idiocy she'd probably have trouble getting a job on a shopping guide."

This leads to my main problem with "Nashville" - the treatment of women in the film. On one hand it is a critique of the time period and sexist attitudes that prevailed in the country and in the media but Altman doesn't give these women opportunities to overcome their obstacles and sometimes presents them as fools. The Opal character is a case in point; she never does break any major news. The brilliant movie critic Molly Haskell made reference to this in her 40th anniversary review of the film on the Criterion site. Haskell gave much needed praise and attention to Tewkesbury's screenplay, even referring to her as an "unsung hero" of the film. She noted Tewkesbury's keen perceptive grasp on the "fragility of women country singers, trying to keep their dignity in a world run by men." But I felt there were times Altman let the tide shift a bit and lost balance. Barbara Jean for example is always presented under the crushing force of her husband, Barnette (Allen Garfield) and then there is the most damning indictment against male treatment of women when we see a  humiliating striptease performed by Sueleen (Gwen Welles); a young woman who had hopes of becoming a singer herself but is only valued for her figure and taken advantaged of. Even the gospel singer Linnea isn't spared indignity. She is a mother of two deaf children, married to a man, Delbert (Ned Beatty) that has no interest in his family, to the extent he doesn't even learn sign language to communicate with his sons. She falls for the "charms" of a rock singer and becomes a victim to his pettiness.

To be fair Altman doesn't present the men any better. While they aren't victimized the way the women are; Altman doesn't go to any great trouble to make them likeable either. The rock singer, Tom Frank (Keith Carradine) is the worse of them all. We see him multiple times disregard the feelings of female characters. Altman has the character sing a song called I'm Easy (which won the Academy award for best song), about emotional vulnerability, as a way to present another side to him but it isn't enough. Barnette becomes overbearing, Haven is pompous and a bully and Delbert clueless. When you get down to it, Altman doesn't give us much to root for. The one character that shows kindness to everyone he meets is an elderly man, Mr. Green (Keenan Wynn) who in the end must face a personal tragedy.

This seems to have been a conscious choice made by Altman in his handling of these characters. It may represent a dichotomy within all of us; sinner and saint. Altman will show a character like Tom emotionally abuse women but then contrast that image by showing us he can be sensitive and write a lovely song. Somehow  Altman does something remarkable here, he straddles both sentiments at once in this scene by adding humor. Multiple women Tom has deceived are all gathered to hear him sing this song and each believes it is secretly dedicated to them. In his original Chicago Sun-Times review (not to be confused with his later "Great Movies" review) Roger Ebert described Altman's approach to his characters in "Nashville" as " Altman sees them all with a judicious and ultimately sympathetic eye." 

With so many characters in the film not all of them interact with each other but one character that remains a through line is John Triplette (Michael Murphy). He has been sent by the Walker campaign to wrestle up support from the country music singers. Each interaction John has with these celebrities is a power play. These celebrities don't seem terribly interested in the ideas of the campaign - John never discusses the candidate's platform - as much as they are about what they can get out of the deal and how it may affect their image. The most blatant example of this is John's dealings with Haven, who expresses possible political ambitions of his own. In one way or another art is politics. And as for the idea that it takes celebrities to make the public interested in politics; well that's just commonplace now. Remember the brouhaha over Taylor Swift in the last Presidential election and if she would make an endorsement? It is amazing; society would lean into the very things Altman satirized 50 years prior.

One of the most important "characters" in the film I would argue however is the "loudspeaker". When most critics review "Nashville" they look to the songs as doubling as commentary on the film. In a review  Armond White wrote for example in 1998 for the New York Press, White highlighted the song My Idaho Home and called it an "all-American desire for harmony" believing the song evoked themes of sacrifice, school, army, heaven, children...etc. While there is truth to this, more attention I feel should be paid to the loudspeaker. "Nashville" doesn't have a narrator but if it did, it would be the loudspeaker. It is similar in a way to how Altman used a PA system in "M*A*S*H" (1970). In that movie the PA system was a kind of "authority figure" being used to contrast the zany behavior of the characters in cut-a-way shots. In "Nashville" the loudspeaker represents the heart of the film's ideas. It says the quiet parts out loud; all of the struggles the country faces. We hear it from the loudspeaker and than see it in action in the characters.

Those American struggles come to the fore by the end of film, which takes place at a Walker campaign rally. This is in many ways what the film has been building up to but notice some of the choices Altman makes here. Number one, we never do see Hal Walker. It is as if Altman is saying "the man" doesn't matter, it is the words that carry weight, the ideals that represent this country. Number two, an assassination occurs but a politician isn't the target, an artist is. It is as if there is an indistinguishable line between art and politics - the basic idea of the film. And finally, number three, notice what happens next. Within the chaos and confusion, someone needs to establish order and set the crowd the at ease. In theory it should have been John or someone from the Walker campaign but they are absent. It is a singer that steps in to do what art always does, bring us together. But again, its not just any artist, its  Albuquerque (Barbara Harris), a woman. Here is  Altman trying to restore order to what has proceeded this event. The people who were shown to have been the most abused by the system - the women - are the ones who are not only going to have to be there for the healing but will lead the way. The is a powerful statement on Altman's part. Some critics at the time either didn't see that message, ignored it, or simply didn't care. Take as an example the former Chicago Tribune critic Gene Siskel, who wrote a very positive review but also commented on the film's final sequence as, "its least interesting and most banal element." 

To end the film on an assassination is also a deeply revealing move on Altman's part. As soon as the incident happens, Haven, who was also on stage, cries out, "This isn't Dallas". The horrific event of President Kennedy's assassination transpired more than six decades ago. I wonder how many younger people know what the date November 22nd, 1963 represents? Sadly, I can tell you, my nieces and nephews aren't aware of its significance. In 1975 however Kennedy's death still loomed large over the nation as did Robert Kennedy's. The Kennedy name is spoken often in "Nashville". That's not by accident. Kennedy represented hope and great promise for the country. He was representative of all that was right about America. Nixon and Watergate signified what was wrong with politics. "Nashville" is a bridge between these two administrations and the assassination here brings attention to it.

When "Nashville" was released both Altman and the film were somewhat divisive. Some critics like Rex Reed at the New York Daily News and Dave Kehr at the Chicago Reader  were very dismissive of the film. Kehr in particular listed the film as one of the worse of 1975; but the film had its defenders from Judith Crist to Roger Ebert, Gene Siskel, Andrew Sarris, Pauline Kael and Molly Haskell. Each and every one of them considered it among the finest  American films made at that point. Perhaps because of that level of support, the film went on to earn five Academy  Award nominations, including one for best picture and another for  Altman's directing. It also scored an amazing 11 Golden Globe nominations including one well deserved one for its screenplay.

This year doesn't just mark the 50th anniversary of  the release of  "Nashville", it is also the bicentennial year of  Altman's birth. In Chicago, at the Gene Siskel Film Center they had a lovely tribute to Altman screening many of his films. As I watch Altman's films I come away feeling the work still feels fresh and exciting and yet as I take a look around at the contemporary films being released, I often fail to see Altman's influence on the current crop of up-and-coming filmmakers. Twenty or twenty-five years ago many critics commented on Altman's influence on the work of Paul Thomas Anderson; in particular his film "Magnolia" (1999) but what other American films in the last five years or so have carried on in the Altman tradition?

Despite some flaws, "Nashville" remains a remarkable achievement in Altman's career. For some it represents his peak, in a decade when his creative powers may have been at their height. Fifty years later the film remains as insightful and perceptive on American culture and politics as it did in 1975. That is the mark of a true masterwork.

Film Reviews: Algie, the Miner & The Consequences of Feminism

 "Algie, the Miner"

 *** (out of ****)

I first became aware of the French-born female filmmaker  Alice Guy-Blache when I saw the documentary on her career, "Be Natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blache" (2019). She is a forgotten figure in the history of cinema, and someone that holds great social significance as she is widely considered by historians to be the first female director; although one wonders how many other "Alice Guy-Blache's" were out there, yet to be discovered.

In Elizabeth Weitzman's book Renegade Women in Film & TV  the noted critic explains how Guy-Blache's "The Cabbage Fairy" (1896) is believed to be the first fictional film and goes on to inform readers of the vastness of her work, directing nearly one thousand films that expanded across multiple genres. Weitzman also pointed out Guy-Blache founded and ran Solax Studios, one of the earliest American movie production companies.

As we enter the final months of this year's Life is Short theme, my year long look at short movies, I wanted to discuss a couple of films from this pioneer filmmaker. The two films; "Algie, the Miner" (1912) and "The Consequences of Feminism" (1906) are prime examples of the kind of social commentary Guy-Blache was making. These films hit on themes of gender, identity, and equality. All ideas that are relevant today, demonstrating not only how far back these issues go but also challenging preconceived notions modern audiences may have regarding the social awareness, sensitivity, and intelligence of people from the time period. There is a tendency today to look down at past generations and label them unsophisticated and not as enlightened as we are today. Bear in mind they didn't even have Twitter back then. All these prior generations did was invent the radio, TV, the airplane, and the automobile. Today however we can never leave our homes and shop online by using our phones. Clearly we are the truly advanced generation.

"Algie, the Miner" and "Consequences" will be described by some modern viewers as "ahead of their time" but I'd argue they are of their time. They are grappling with societal topics prevalent to their time period. By 1906, when "The Consequences of Feminism" was released for example, there was already an active feminist social movement. Historians refer to this as "first-wave feminism", which largely centered around the right to vote. This is also pointed out in the book The Female Gaze written by Alicia Malone, perhaps best known as a television personality on Turner Classic Movies. In her book she comments on how the term feminism was somewhat new, having been coined in the late 1800s in France. By 1860 it had became a more formal movement.

Those that study queer cinema often refer to "Algie, the Miner" as an early example of coded gay subtext. I've even read some interpret it as one of the first films to endorse "gay conversion". The film is subtle enough to invoke several different readings. How we interpret the film however depends on our understanding of what mainstream society in 1912 knew about homosexuality. On it's surface "Algie" is the story of an upper class effeminate male (Billy Quirk) who wants to marry his sweetheart (Claire Jackson). Her father objects to the marriage, seemingly because of Algie's behavior. Algie is given one year to prove himself a man. If he can do so, the father will approve of the marriage. In order to become a man Algie heads out west.

No matter how you interpret the Algie character one of the themes at play in the film is masculinity. While the treatment of female characters throughout film history may be seen as cruel to modern audiences, depictions of male characters and defining masculinity have been equally troubling in creating expectations for how men should act. We see it as far back as "Algie" going through to the heroism of Humphrey Bogart, John Wayne and Clint Eastwood to the suaveness of Cary Grant to George Clooney.

This positions "Algie" in a unique situation where a surface-level read of the film is just as insightful as a deeper analysis because there is so much to unpack right before our eyes. Lets start with Algie's decision to head out west to become a man. The western frontier was already identified with rugged masculinity and by simply juxtaposing a "weak" man against tough cowboys you've created a comedic situation that would be repeated in comedy westerns that followed from Laurel and Hardy in "Way Out West" (1937), to Bob Hope in "Alias Jesse James" (1959), to Mel Brooks' "Blazing Saddles" (1974) to "Three Amigos" (1986). I'm not suggesting Guy-Blache invented this concept but she was firmly aware of the contrast in such a depiction. It was no accident she places her film out west.

"Algie" even touches on our view of class and how wealth often characterizes our interpretation of masculinity. When we first see Algie he is dressed in a tuxedo at a party being thrown by his sweetheart's family, presumably a rich man that never has to get his hands dirty (and therefore isn't manly). The men aren't protectors. Because of their wealth, the rich could avoid physical confrontation such as getting deferments to avoid enlisting in wars. What was the dichotomy that made a character like Zorro so interesting? By day he is Don Diego Vega; a foppish, lazy, wealthy man opposed to violence. By night he becomes Zorro, a swashbuckler fighting against injustice. 

When you think of cowboys and the old west, you naturally think of guns. Americans (and Freud) have mythologized guns to represent power and control which is often associated with masculinity. It is through this phallic shaped object that Guy-Blache creates her greatest visual presentation and commentary on masculinity. Algie has a tiny pistol that is later mocked by the cowboys who compare it to their bigger guns. There is little room to doubt this was meant to symbolize "manhood". But Guy-Blache doesn't leave it at that. She throws in a subtle touch that either reinforces interpretations that Algie is a homosexual or parodies Freud's penis envy theory (feminists have been very critical of Freud's theories believing they were sexist). When Algie is shown a bigger gun he smiles at the sight of it while also finding it so physically imposing he can't even hold it. 

The gun eventually becomes the link between Algie and his quest to become a man. In a later scene, when the transition becomes fully transparent, it is Algie's use of the gun that solidifies he is now a man, after he protects his friend by holding two other men up at gunpoint. Algie has now become "one" with this phallic object and has learned how to both use it and control it. It is no longer physically imposing. He has conquered his masculinity.

Guy-Blache encapsulates this further in the film's final sequence; Algie going back home for his sweetheart's hand in marriage. Algie brings along his friend Jim as they storm into the home looking for the father. Pay attention to how the wealthy men almost seems to cower behind the female characters, reinforcing the stereotype of the cowardly wealthy men. Now it is Algie and Jim in control of the situation as Jim flashes around his gun. And pay attention to the sweetheart's reaction, which can go unnoticed in the corner of the frame. She smiles and giggles as she watches her father being intimidated. It is a very different facial expression to the one she had at the beginning of the film, when Algie first asked for her hand. Algie was being laughed at in that situation but now he is forceful. It is as if the "masculine power" he is exhibiting is attractive to the young woman. It creates a gender dynamic modern viewers may be uncomfortable with suggesting women find the brute force of men appealing. However it is a dynamic that has been well noted by previous critics such as Molly Haskell, who writes in her book From Reverence to Rape "it is not just men who thrill to the violent, male-chauvinist world of The Godfather, but women who, wishing women's lib would go away like a bad dream, secretly enjoy the Sicilian gangster denigration of women, of "putting them in their place.""

While New York Times critic Manohla Dargis wrote of Guy-Blache's films, "she expressed female drives, desires and self-determination." I can still see how "Algie, the Miner" fits into the cannon of her work simply because of how it challenges societal conventions. The lead character here may not be a female but this is still a story about how gender is interpreted in society and the expectations that come along with it. On some level that is appealing to Guy-Blache.

"The Consequences of Feminism"

 *** (out of ****)

Continuing on the theme of Guy-Blache tackling societal gender norms, we come to "The Consequences of Feminism"; a film that imagines what the world would look like if the gender power dynamics were switched.

Depending upon how we interpret the film's title; particularly the use of the word "consequences", this is either a comedy showing the rise of feminism is not something to fear or a warning to men (and women) foreshadowing what life will look like if the feminist take control and the inevitable backlash.

While it is true that the intentions of feminism have always stirred fear in men who perceive the true motive of the movement as anti-men; I could not find a direct quote from Guy-Blache stating she identified herself as a feminist and / or find any quotes supporting the women's vote movement. This is after reading articles about her, watching a documentary on her career, and reading various feminist film theory books. All that can be said is her work implies she was a feminist due to the themes that reoccur in her films. I bring this up because it would be nice to know Guy-Blache's intentions with a film such as "The Consequences of Feminism". Most people describe the film it is as a story where gender roles are reversed. That is true but what it is left out is that the men fight back to establish themselves as the dominate sex. Knowing Guy-Blache's intentions and thoughts on feminism would help viewers interpret the film, which is why I find the choice of the word "consequences" an interesting one. The film's not called "The Benefits of Feminism" or "A Celebration of Feminism" but instead "The Consequences of Feminism".

Much like in "Algie, the Miner", Guy-Blache is using humor to make a social commentary and uses men as stand-ins for her feminist ideas. Is this meant as a way to make men empathize with the feminist movement? The film begins with several men working in a hat shop. Some of the men have flowers in their hair and walk with what can be described as exaggerated feminine movements. On a side note, notice how the men acting as women here aren't as flamboyant as Billy Quirks mannerisms playing Algie six years later. A woman walks into the store and begins to flirt with one of the men in a rather aggressive manner, by holding his chin, to which the man, seemingly overpowered, can only attempt to coyishly turn his head. Actions such as these will be repeated for the remainder of the seven minute film.

It is interesting what Guy-Blache is doing here. Yes there is a gender reversal here but it is limited to the interactions between men and women. In other words we don't see women as strong business leaders or in predominate male roles of authority - policemen for example. The world that Guy-Blache is presenting only shows women as sexually aggressive. Can that imply a relationship between sex and power (or dominance)? That then becomes the ultimate struggle to overcome. It actually hints at one of the tenants of  "second wave feminism" of the 1960s, which is connected to the publication of Betty Friedan's book The Feminine Mystique. 

Alicia Malone kind of hints at this point as well in her book observing the male characters still dress like men and the female characters as women. It is only their behavior that has changed; while finally noting "the film does not imagine what exactly might happen if we lived in a matriarchal society - but it shows quite plainly what it is like to live in a patriarchal one."

Guy-Blache has a lot of fun with this setup; embellishing various scenarios women may have found themselves in while also parodying melodramas, as when one of the men, along with his children, enter a bar where the wife is drinking. The man pleads with her to come home with him and to their children, while she tosses him away. In another scene a seemingly kind and gentle woman "rescues" a man from the advances of another woman only to then paw at the man herself. This is meant to expose the "wolf in sheep's clothing" man who appears sympathetic to a woman but only uses that sympathy as a technique to get close to a woman. Maybe the most damning commentary of all is when two men witness a woman forcefully kissing a man and do nothing but pretend they don't see anything and walk away. In other words we (men) see vile treatment and injustice in the world but chose to look away.

And according to Guy-Blache and her film, this injustice can only go on for so long until the oppressed fight back and demand equality. What happens in this new world though? Unfortunately that's when the film ends. Are we to assume men will now treat women as they were treated, which was the actual reality some women faced during the time period? That feeds into men's fear about feminism; if the women take control they will treat us as badly as we treat them. Men must face that harsh reality at the beginning of the film before it abruptly ends, like a bad dream. It is like saying, now that you have awaken; change your ways, you have seen what the future holds. It reminds me of something Haskell refers to as "the big lie" in her previously mention esteemed book, "the idea of women's inferiority, a lie so deeply ingrained in our social behavior that merely to recognize it is to risk unraveling the entire fabric of civilization."

I have primarily talked about Guy-Blache in terms of the themes presented in her work; which I find to be her best quality however she was a good filmmaker for the time period. I must confess her films aren't as visually exciting as Georges Melies; though her narratives exceed his, or demonstrate the same level of filmmaking craft as D.W. Griffith (the gold standard for me); her films have a stagey quality common for the era; but this has nothing to do with her being a woman. In fact I'd argue her work was as good or better than filmmakers such as Allan Dwan or Edwin S. Porter.

What Guy-Blache and her films illustrate is a humorous point made in the 1958 film "Indiscreet" directed by Stanley Donen and starring Ingrid Bergman and Cary Grant. In the film Grant's character says, "Women are not the sensitive sex. That's one of the grand delusions of literature. Men are the true romantics." Time and time again when women have been given the microphone they have not used it as an opportunity to validate romanticized love; they have taken the opportunity to comment on equality between the genders. This goes back to Jane Austen - Sense and Sensibility and Pride and Prejudice, the films of Guy-Blache, the poetry of Dorothy Parker, Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre, or Gloria Gaynor singing I Will Survive. It's not that one can't describe Austen's writings for example as romantic but it is the idea that all of these women challenged the notions of romance of their eras. Much like how "The Consequences of Feminism" is drawing a relationship between sex and power, there is a long tradition of women trying to recalibrate these dynamics to include equality. That is what the relationship between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy is about in Prejudice. When you live in a society that makes you feel like a second-class citizen and you have to fight for the right to vote, to own a business, or go into the workforce, your first priority is not to champion the idea of getting married, having children, and making sure dinner is prepared by the time your husband gets home. And yet the media, through all of its forms, have pressured women into accepting this fate; continuing the myth of their romanticism (i.e. modern trashy romance novels). Naturally I am generalizing. Don't take my words so literal. One of my all-time favorite novels is Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights but there are those that consider it a brutal revenge story and not only a straight piece of romantic fiction. Instead of using all of your energy to disprove my point, sit with what I have written for a while and think about what I am truly saying. 

The importance of female filmmakers like Guy-Blache, Lois Weber, and Helen Holmes is immeasurable. I'd love to say their success led the way for all future female directors that followed but that wouldn't be exactly true. Theirs's is a great injustice and void in the history of cinema that these women have been largely forgotten and ignored. Guy-Blache had been written out of the history books; not even mentioned among the early film pioneers. It was thanks primarily to female critics and historians that her work has been rediscovered. 

That hits on the importance of film criticism. When I started writing about films more than twenty years ago, it was a different world. There weren't many women movie critics back than and they struggled finding jobs as directors.  But as seen in the example of Guy-Blache there is a correlation between the two professions. Critics are often gatekeepers, setting the trends for which names should live on. When they fail at that tasks, important names are forgotten. It took women to correct a wrong. In an attempt to reverse the trend, women are now a significant part of the film criticism community. The New York Times named Manhola Dargis as its chief critic after A.O. Scott stepped down. In addition to which Alissa Wilkinson, Lisa Kennedy, Natalia Winkelman, and Beatrice Loayza also write for the paper. That is a notable amount of female voices at a single newspaper. While there are male writers as well at the Times, it was an obvious conscious choice to diversify their critics. Also, what an embarrassment of riches to have so many critics at a single newspaper; at a time when other newspapers - the Chicago Sun-Times and the Chicago Tribune  - have eliminated the position. And there are other noteworthy female critics such as Elizabeth Weitzman, Amy Nicholson, and Christy Lemire. The best critic, working at a mainstream publication, is probably Stephanie Zacharek, over at Time.

I'll regale you with a personal story (it's what I do) about my own experience with trying to correct a false narrative being pushed in film studies. I was going to Columbia College of Chicago at the time, studying film and journalism. It was in my last year, which would have been around 2007. One of the classes I was required to take as part of my film curriculum was on gender studies; where we explored topics such as feminist film theory and queer cinema. I had two classes that day with hours in-between them. To pass the time I asked a friend if they wanted to meet up nearby for some drinks. As I entered the class that evening I was "feeling good". The topic for that day's class was going to be on how heterosexual filmmakers have portrayed gay and lesbian characters throughout cinema. One of the examples the instructor was going to use was Luchino Visconti's "Death in Venice" (1971). As my buzz was starting to wear off, it was suddenly occurring to me the instructor was stating Visconti was a heterosexual filmmaker. Because I had no life as a kid, I not only knew who Visconti was, I had actually seen "Death in Venice" years prior to taking this class. It was well known Visconti was a homosexual. He was very open about it and had a relationship with the actor Helmut Berger, who had appeared in his films. This instructor, who was admittedly gay, as were my fellow students, was giving us bad information which no one was correcting. These students were going to leave this class thinking Visconti's film was a depiction of a heterosexual filmmaker exploring gay and lesbian issues. Should I say something? Here I am this twenty-something year old straight kid, slightly buzzed, in a class where I am going to undermine the instructor's authority in front of everyone. Would he get mad and retaliate against me? I raised my hand and explained who Visconti was as all eyes in the class stared back at me. The instructor did approach me during the class break but was nice to me; still I made a vow to never drink before that class ever again and to keep my mouth shut. 

What I learned in that class however has remained with me. There are various theories film writers may apply to their work. In my own case I have always tried to blend the auteur theory and feminist film theory together. Though I am not a strict feminist film theorist because I never wanted to box myself in to any single theory. My writing would always be judge by how well I apply those theories. I believe you allow the film itself to dictate which style to use by addressing what themes are present in the work. Sometimes a particular theory isn't the most apt to judge a movie by. You have to be flexible. And as a man I feel uncomfortable calling myself a feminist film theorist. There is a certain section of the population that has a "stay in your lane" mentality and we should only comment on things related to our lived experiences; therefore as a white male I should not discuss female issues, black issues, or homosexual issues. Some may take offense to what I have written here. I should leave a topic like Guy-Blache to women. In feminist film theory this is referred to as reclaiming - reinterpreting what has been erased in the representation of female characters. So then I use a kind of hodgepodge method of gender studies. I do firmly believe movies - and all media - strongly dictate how we interpret the world and gender dynamics, which is why it is important to examine these issues. I'd recommend reading Haskell's From Reverence to Rape. It is a seminal piece of feminist film theory; as are writings by Laura Mulvey. 

A figure like Alice Guy-Blache is a reminder of who gets to write the history books, who is left out and why, and how false narratives are perpetuated by figures of authority. She was a very talented filmmaker who deserved better. If you are interested in watching her films or those made by other female directors, the DVD distributor KINO put out a collection a few years ago called "Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers" it is a terrific six-disc set bringing to the fore this neglected chapter of film history.