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Week in Film: Slippery Suffocaters and a Skin-tastic Japanese Pink Film Redux

(Flyer via Spectacle)

(Flyer via Spectacle)

Daydream
Saturday October 14,  midnight at Spectacle: $5

Throughout the month of October, Spectacle is running a series on Pink Film, a Japanese cinematic movement that began in the groovy ’60s– a time when counterculture thrived in Japan and, just like the U.S. and France and other countries across the world, ideas about free love and experimental art-making began to take hold.

According to the theater, this is “the largest and most comprehensive [retrospective] of its kind in North America” and covers Pink’s evolution from start to present. Sick.

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Week in Film: Love Like ’70s Pulp Revenge Cinema, an Idiotic Prophecy Most Accurate, and More


What’s Revenge?
Saturday October 8 and Saturday October 15, 10 pm at Spectacle: $5

I trust that most of us here can agree that far too many films about sex and relationships are heteronormative, replete with sexist tropes, gender binarism, the male perspective, and/or female archetypes that are just godawful and tend to make those of us with brains in our heads question whether we are just totally insane for feeling zero identification with these boring storylines and banal characters. So we either play along, grumble and complain, laugh darkly, develop a self-depleting tick like methodically tearing out each and every hair on our heads, or avoid any sort of TV/film portrayals of romance and relationshits as if they were a postulating butt rash.

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Week in Film: Punk Rock’s Golden Daddy and ‘Ludicrous’ Janis Joplin Remixes


Danny Says
Friday September 30 through Thursday October 6 at IFC Center: $14

Danny Fields was the music manager “at the pulse of the underground,” the man behind the best rock n’ roll to come out of the ’70s New York City scene and actually some of the most influential rock of all time. Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, and the Ramones were just a few of his associated acts and though all of this stuff is standard by now, back in Danny’s glory days it was nothing short of insanity.

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Week in Film: The Jazz Loft, a New Indie Theater, and More


The Jazz Loft According to Eugene W. Smith
Friday September 23 through Wednesday September 28 at the Metrograph: $15

In this film about a loft that from 1957 to 1965 drew some of the best musicians of its time to a nondescript location in the city’s Flower District, you might get the feeling that you’ve been to a place sort of like this before. Like almost everything cool in America, the DIY venues we frequent today have their roots in jazz, specifically the underground spots of yesteryear where the music could be experienced in its natural state.

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Mono No Aware Aiming to Bring Motion Picture Film Lab to the Masses

Mono No Aware festival (Photo via Mono No Aware Facebook)

Mono No Aware festival (Photo via Mono No Aware Facebook)

For a long time we’ve heard that analog film formats– for both making and viewing– are on the verge of mass extinction and very soon will be swallowed up by digital photography and filmmaking, never to be seen again. Recent events seem to confirm this prediction– in July, the last manufacturer of VHS players announced that it was quitting the game and shortly after, the Chinese factory where the clunky, black plastic boxes were made for Sanyo ceased production. The end came quietly, and some people were surprised that VHS consoles were still being made at all, since it had been nearly a decade since Eragon, an elf/fantasy movie, was the last ever to be released on VHS. Even before that, Fujifilm had stopped manufacturing motion picture film. As somebody once (pretentiously) told me, books, which are a lot like film in this context, are “nothing more than fetish objects” nowadays.

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White Girl Recalls Disco Dust-Fueled ‘Crazy Times’ in Ridgewood


Elizabeth Wood may be a young filmmaker, still soaking up directorial lessons and figuring it all out, but she knew exactly what she was doing when she decided to call her first full-length feature, a semi-biographical film set in Ridgewood, White Girl. The label is alluring, gnawing, and sorta yucky all at once. Hilton Als wrote an entire collection of essays, White Girls, devoted to decoding the concept, which he determines is somewhere between an actual state of being and a mirage, both an all-powerful fantasy and the ideal object to be controlled : “Once I lived in a perpetual state of disbelief: How could one be a white girl and hate it? Wasn’t she— whoever she was— everything the world saw and wanted?”

It’s a pejorative, a term commonly attached to catcalls that’s less poetic than, say, “snowflake.” It’s “white girl wasted.” It’s a spoiled, naive little girl. It’s complaining too much. It’s traveling abroad and refusing to eat a stew made with chicken broth. It’s infantilizing, condescending, and rarely a compliment. It’s also a nickname for cocaine.

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Week in Film: No Tutus for Bad Men and Fond Memories of Hailing Satan


Dancer
Friday September 16 to Thursday September 22 at IFC Center: $14

This film follows the illustrious but fraught career of Sergei Polunin, aka the “James Dean of the ballet world,” and his progress from child prodigy to a top-dancer wunderkind. I mean, you couldn’t really call anyone the James Dean of interpretive dance, because that would just be a dumb joke. It actually makes sense with Polunin though, as a figure who’s equally as intense, if not more so, than ballet itself, a sport that demands self-torture of its devotees, legit from the very first step.

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Call It a Craven Ploy, But This Horror Film Festival Is Snuffing to Sneeze At

Screen Shot 2016-09-14 at 2.53.52 PMTis the season for Lovecraft festivals and flesh-suspension ziplines, but aside from all that, we’re pretty much living in an age of horror. I mean, Stephen King just compared an actual presidential candidate to cthulhu. So, why not have more than one horror film festival? The first Brooklyn Horror Film Festival was announced earlier this month and will take place in mid-October. Now it’s getting a downtown counterpart, FEARnyc, which will bring 65+ horror flicks to Cinema Village from October 21 to 27. And here’s something The Wolfpack will be psyched about: Wes Craven’s widow will appear on his behalf during the awards ceremony.

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Week in Film: Steam Shower Romps, Dishin’ it Back to the Catcallers, and Alt Newsreels


Spa Night
Thursday September 8, 7:45 pm at Metrograph: $15

This one’s been held over at the Metrograph again and it looks like this is finally, actually, literally the last time you can catch Spa Night within the stylish confines of the Lower East Side’s newest art house theater and perhaps the only ciné in the whole wide city with a concession stand that looks like it was designed by a serial killer. You’ll find that Spa Night is replete with that very same understated but stylish weirdness. It’s a quiet, crawling film fraught by teeth-gritting tension so overwhelming you get the feeling everything’s about to come crashing down if you breathe too loudly.

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Week in Film: Texas Virgin on a Tear, Student Council Blood Bath

(Flyer via Wiki commons)

(Flyer via Wiki commons)

Strawberries Need Rain
Friday September 2, Friday September 9, Saturday September 17, Saturday September 24, midnight at Spectacle: $5

Throughout September, Spectacle is screening a whole slew of films by midnight master, Texas filmmaker, and self-proclaimed “schlockmeister” Larry Buchanan. Old photos of the dude could easily fool you into thinking he’s a jolly pediatrician who makes house calls and checks your pulse with the aid of a pocket watch. Best known for his schlocky sci-fi/horror B-movies like Mars Needs Women and the 1969 original of It’s Alive! (not to be confused with the 1974 cult classic written/directed by Larry Cohen), Buchanan made some super awful and yet somehow successful films, as the story goes. The Times put it best after Buchanan died in 2004 at the age of 81: “It was not so much that his films were bad; they were deeply, dazzlingly, unrepentantly bad.”

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Four Films: Reenacting a TV Suicide, Politically Involved Girls, and Madge at Her Best


Kate Plays Christine
Friday August 26 through Thursday September 1 at IFC Center: $15
This year at Sundance, there were two films focused on Christine Chubbuck, the Florida news reporter who killed herself live on the air in the summer of 1974 during the broadcast of her talk show– although the filmmakers in each case took a wildly different approach to exploring not only the story of Chubbuck’s death but our own unrelenting fascination with her suicide and how knowing that it was caught on film makes the whole situation strangely titillating.

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How a Film About Traversing Boundaries Begot a Film Series, Imagined Boundaries

(Photo: Courtesy of Jess Thoubboron)

(Photo: Courtesy of Jess Thoubboron)

When Jess Thoubboron wanted to screen her new short film, Strangers, she thought about how to showcase it in a way that connected to her motivation for making the film in the first place.

Strangers, Thoubboron’s directorial debut, is about two strangers who meet and instantly form a special bond and encourage one another to traverse their self-imposed boundaries and reexamine how they perceived themselves.

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