The dramatic increase in vomiting in cinema has made me queasy to say the least. It is one of my go-to entries in what I call SSIM (Stupid Shit in Movies), and I think its completely unnecessary.

The metaphor is obvious: the idea of vomiting is often associated with cleansing and renewal — that you are ejecting toxins so that your body may recover to its normal state. The act implicitly suggests, also, a certain heightened degree of realism. However, there are several bodily functions that have gone undocumented in major Hollywood offerings, and graphic depictions of getting sick could be left out.

Since we are so desensitized to violence in the media, perhaps vomiting is the trendy new tool to impact the viewer, to stir up a reaction? Vomiting in cinema is typically shocking, meant to jolt the viewer out of their passive watching and into more visceral mental states.

In the past two months, I’ve seen more on screen vomiting than I care to stomach. In PRECIOUS, the main character downs a bucket of fried chicken and in her pregnant state violently erupts into an alternative school trash can. Leonardo DiCaprio opens SHUTTER ISLAND by tossing some chowder into the sink of a ferry bathroom. We can go on to Jeff Bridges in CRAZY HEART, who, in the middle of a song, escapes out the back to barf up some fine whisky he had spent all day drinking. Since the film establishes his character as an irresponsible, raging alocholic, it’s suspect that his stomach and liver are not concrete rocks by now and incapable of being irritated.

Context is frequently missing in most of these episodes. If one is to include it in a film, what is the motivation for the retching? For instance, the act is justified in films like SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, which features it in an opening action scene laced with violence, anxiety, and a raging sea. Vomiting seems right at home.

I’ll never forget seeing THE SANDLOT in theatres when I was a young kid. I loved the movie; I thought it was funny and reminded me of my friends. However, there is a scene in which one of the boys steals a pouch of tobacco and everyone joins in a chew. Unaccustomed to the virgin rush of tobacco, they promptly barf while riding a roller coaster. The sight of fake vomit splattering onto a brick sidewalk was such an impactful, jarring image that I had to escape. We didn’t take a break out in the lobby — I had to go home. And so we did. To this day, I don’t know how it ended.

Three filmmakers with ties to KC music featured on DVD compilation

“The worlds of music and film have long intersected and overlapped.

Recently, those worlds collided in Kansas City. Three local filmmakers with ties to the local music industry placed short films on a DVD that was shipped worldwide to VIP subscribers of the music magazine Paste.”

Click here to read the whole thing…

Today, a flash banner ad for the new FOX show Sons of Tuscon piqued my interest.

Sons of Tuscon is a show about a fat man-child — think Will Ferrell trapped inside the body of Zach Galifinakis, a look that is so hot right now — living with children who have recruited him to avoid a foster home stay. Hilarity and hijinks ensue when it becomes very clear he is in no way prepared to take care of children, and evidence would support the notion that they might be his intellectual equals. Hooray for negligent, borderline-dangerous parenthood!

Tuscon is an entry in the well-trodden territory of dumb people in sunny places (My Name is Earl,Raising Arizona, etc.). Still, the show seems to be promoting and embracing that subversive Malcolm in the Middle concept of the American family — dysfunctional, dangerous, irrational, ignorant, rude…but with a “circle the wagons” approach to their own blood.

First of all, one can’t help but point out the obvious potential for injury in the image. A slingshot fashioned out of cactus is neither safe nor practical. If for some reason the aim is off — which is highly likely, considering children are manning the weapon — our portly friend could be sent careening into the base of the cactus which would be unpleasant to say the least.

(Possible target audience?)

What interested me most was the suggestion of how the show will be marketed to potential viewers. The slingshot is a rather antiquated pop culture symbol of youth, childhood, and mischief. No adult would have a use for one, and neither would most children in the modern era (unless it was somehow integrated into the controls of a Nintendo Wii game).

Of course, the slingshot goes back to ancient times. It was the device used by David, the little guy, to defeat Goliath. The probable suggestion of the advertisement pits the show as an underdog, and that by virtue of you watching their program, you are sticking it to all the media straw men and executives that wanted to pass on it in the first place.

“And, trust us, we were going to pass on it. However, threatening the release of some…photos…changed our tune…”

As one can see from the original still, the slingshot is pointed at YOU, the violent suggestion being that FOX will attack you with this powerful weapon of mass comedy destruction. It could also be a metaphor for the forthcoming advertising blitz that  will have you pining for the sweet release of a lobotomy.

Executives have always equated relentless exposure with success. After all, FOX aired an Avatar trailer nearly 6 months before its theatrical release. Sons of Tuscon spots were already airing during the NFL playoffs. This early hype probably has them hoping it will become a Malcolm in the Middle-type hit. A tall order, but I think they would ultimately settle for Bernie Mac, or maybe even The Tick.

With Rex Ryan and "Revis Island" of the New York Jets

Kansas City folks! I hope you’ll join me tonight at Crosstown Station. I’ve never been, but it looks like tons of fun!

“Fingers” is a strange beast. After doing primarily documentaries in my undergraduate years, I decided to do a radical experimental narrative before I graduated, something to clean my palette before tackling some narratives.  The finished film has no dialogue and is told strictly through non-linear flashbacks. The film had no screenplay — it was shot completely off storyboards and a simple one page treatment.

The story centers around Paul, who reacts to the loss of his index finger the same way someone might grieve a loved one who passed away — his mind goes to unexpected places and recalls moments throughout his life where the finger played a role. Eventually the memories become more strained and confusing to the point he breaks out of them and returns to reality.

Part of what interested me about the project was simply the idea of touch, how fingers could be used to tickle, or explore, or offend. I loved thinking about – and exploring – the utility of our anatomy.

Original Hospital Scene (From Treatment):

Paul stands anxiously in a hospital waiting room. Two girls play “rock, paper, scissors” on the floor. Paul watches as scissors beats paper. The girls emulate the cutting with their hands, the imaginary scissors cutting into the loser’s outstretched fingers. Paul watches in anxious horror. A nurse taps his shoulder, startling him. She lets him know the birth went smoothly. His face relaxes. She leaves and comes out pushing a wheelchair containing his partner Amy and their baby. She is wheeled to  him. He crouches down and begins pleading, desperately sorry about missing the birth. Amy touches his cheek in silent forgiveness. He smiles and looks down to admire his child. He reaches into her arms to tickle the baby.

Heres the final scene:

When I was writing the short, I witnessed a child playing rock, paper, scissors with a friend at a fast food restaurant. It was hypnotizing to the point that I began silently keeping score! I immediately knew it would be an interesting, unnerving element to add the story. It rides that awkward line between comedy and drama that occurs frequently in other scenes. It’s been received as both at several festivals.

I was very deliberate with the dolly shot (:35). It is the only dolly shot in the movie, and when it arrives I think it adds a quiet power. The camera setup is distant to begin with. I intentionally wanted to dolly backwards, as if the viewer is catching a glimpse of a private, shared moment it probably shouldn’t. Forward dolly shots have a tendency to isolate — to close off the world around the characters. I like the sheepishness of the camera backtracking in this situation. The viewer is made to retreat. It has a discouraging effect, as opposed to the forced immersion of drifting forward.

I am very fond of a cheesy visual metaphor that appears briefly at the end of the scene. An orange glow shines through the blanket. I wanted it to represent the newborn child as “the light of his life.” We accomplished it by wrapping a mini-mole light in several layers of towels and putting it in our actress’ arms to act as a key light illuminating their faces from underneath. In retrospect, it might have been easier to simply emulate the effect in post, but I liked the idea at the time and our actress wasn’t burnt too badly…

Sound was less of a priority in this particular scene but the designer did a wonderful job. In most of the scenes, there is quite a bit of unsettling sound cues (helicopter blades, crashes, glasses rattling in a running dishwasher). This one was quiet, but very well layered. I love how the room becomes warm and full with sound, as if he’s coming out of a heightened awareness when the doctor startles him out of his daydream.

This is the first time Paul has touched his first child — an important memory for any father. In some ways, this is the climax of the film. The film takes a steep plunge into madness after this moment, and some of the best imagery of the film.

Up next: negligent babysitters, finger painting, and picked noses. Obscene #02: the Rooftop Sequence!

Today I was thumbing through a magazine rack at a Goodwill when I chanced upon a February 1962 issue of Pageant magazine that includes a short piece on Jean-Paul Belmondo. Belomondo was recently honored by the Los Angeles Film Critics for his career achievements. High-resolution scans of the original pages are at the bottom, following the transcription. Enjoy!

JB Meets CC

Photographed for Pageant by Marvin Newman

THE FILM HEROES of the young Frenchman at left are Bogart, Brando and Garfield. But put them all together and you still haven’t captured the essence of Jean-Paul Belmondo, the most off-beat European screen sensation in a decade.

At 28, Belmondo has become a one-man New Wave in movies. He’s far from handsome. Yet his broken nose, scowl, smile and compulsively relaxed behavior have inspired the word Belmondisme– meaning rare acting ability blended with a special variety of sensuality. Ever since director Jean-Luc Godard cast him in the lead of Breathless (with American Jean Seberg), Belmondo has been Europe’s most sought-after actor.

In his latest film, he joins the new Italian actress, Claudia Cardinale, to form what may be the most explosive team to hit the screen since Clark Gable and Jean Harlow.

Cartouche, the JB-CC movie, is based on a naughty, wildly-hilarious 17th Century French comedy. It has the same kind of appeal as Fan Fan the Tulip, which titillated American audiences some ten years ago. And like Fan Fan, it’s destined for long runs here and abroad.

In the film Belmondo plays the irrepressible picaresque hero. A gay bandit, he has the implausible ambition of seducing women of the aristocracy. As his taken-for-granted mistress, Cardinale ostensibly heps him and joins in a series of funny and richly sensuous adventures.

But Belmondo proved as irrepressible off camera as on. Claudia, caught up in the antics, said: “The man is so crazy, I love him.”

Claudia Cardinale has the distinction at 22 of being a star without ever having been a starlet. Of Italian parentage, she was born and raised in Tunis. In 1959 she was given a free trip to the Venice Film Festival for winning a local beauty contest. She was immediately offered movie contracts by some of Italy’s top producers. But contradicting the usual beauty queen dream, Claudia insisted she didn’t want to be in movies. It was not until the producers persuaded her parents that she reluctantly agreed to accept the leading roles that were offered her.

Then she visited the Cannes Film Festival. Voila! contracts for star parts in French movies. Americans discovered her last year when her film, Rocco and His Brothers, opened in U.S. art theaters. La Bombe Cardinale has now been hailed everywhere as “the dark-haired Brigitte.” Unmarried, Claudia lives wherever she is making a movie; she hopes eventually to settle in Paris.

Jean-Paul Belmondo arrived at his present fame by a most unlikely route: he began as a professional boxer. Son of a well-known Parisian sculptor, Jean-Paul twice had his nose broken, and then, to his parents’ relief, gave up the ring for the Paris Conservatoire of Drama.

But even at the staid academy Jean-Paul devoted as much time to his horseplay as to study. Although his fellow students recognized his special talent for tough-tender roles, his professors were less impressed. When they failed to award him the highest acting award of his class at year’s end (for a performance that satirized the faculty), the student body booed and lifted their precocious hero onto their shoulders and carried him out of the auditorium.

After military service with the French army in Algeria, Jean-Paul landed several bit parts on the stage before he wona featured role in the film A Double Tour. It was after seeing him in this picture that director Godard gambled on using him in the co-starring role in Breathless.

Within months, Belmondo became the most important new star on the Continent. He made an incredible five pictures in 1960 and another five in 1961. And one of them, Two Women, with Sophia Loren, confirmed his fame when it was released last year in the United States to critical and audience acclaim.

After each day’s shooting on Cartouche, Belmondo returned to his Paris apartment. He and his wife Elodie have been married for eight years and have two young daughters. A reporter once asked him what he looks for in a woman. Jean-Paul answered, “I seek tenderness, tranquility, sweetness and gaiety. Physically, I like what my wife best represents: a beautiful face and lovely, lovely legs.”

Of Belmondo his wife says, “He is more than a good husband and father. He’s a friend and lover as well.”

And like co-star CC, Belmondo has a movie screen vitality that speaks louder than words.

##

High Resolution Original Scans

Page #1 and #2

Page #3 and #4

Page #5 and #6

Page #7 and #8

Page #9 and #10

I really, reaaally love this.

[via Gawker.tv, via Slate]

He shouldn’t have played ball unless his agent could swing him some above the title action…

“WOW! It’s like a cross between Gran Torino and Every Which Way But Loose!”