This month I watched quite a bit more films (I curbed my rewatch of The X-Files, but it’s still happening. Trust.) But before we get into the log, here’s a recap of all the writing I did this month. For The Classic Film Collective I recommended a great silent film and wrote a poem about Merle Oberon. On my podcast Prog Save America I had director Allan Arkush (Rock and Roll High School, Get Crazy) on to talk about being a teen Bob Dylan fan in the 60s and working at the Fillmore East, and I had Amanda from the podcast Discord & Rhyme talk about The Moody Blues. Speaking of podcasts, I joined Ryan from the Matineecast to talk about Zola. For Nerdist I wrote about crazy credits, the classic films that may have inspired Captain America: The First Avenger, and Arthurian adaptations you may have forgotten about. For Moviefone, I wrote about Zola & American Honey, films that inspired The Last Letter From Your Lover, and interviewed Shahad Ameen about her film Scales, Leigh Janiak about the Fear Street Trilogy, Augustine Frizzell about The Last Letter From Your Lover, and Sonia Kennebeck about Enemies of the State. For The Playlist I reviewed This Way Up season 2, The Last Letter From Your Lover, and The Pursuit of Love. For RogerEbert.com I wrote about how the doc about Anthony Bourdain is a disaster. Lastly, one of the pieces I am the most proud of yet, for Musings I wrote about how Ethan Hawke has infused autobiography into his body of work.
As always, after the cut you can find everything I watched in July as well as some of the highlights of my month in film.
The first time I saw Valley Girl, I rented it from Netflix and I watched it three times in a 24-hour period before I returned it. I then immediately bought the DVD. I have seen it countless times (including twice on the big screen!). I just love it so much. It is endlessly watchable.
Agent Paxton: Congratulations, Dr. Goodspeed. You did it.
Dr. Stanley Goodspeed: Thank you, sir.
Agent Paxton: You know, for a while there, I didn’t think you were going to make it. Well done, son. So where’s Mason?
Dr. Stanley Goodspeed: Vaporized. Blown out to sea.
Agent Paxton: Blown out to sea, huh?
Dr. Stanley Goodspeed: Yeah.
Agent Paxton: Poor bastard.
Director Womack: Goodspeed, where’s Mason? Where’s his body? I wanna see that son of a bitch!
Agent Paxton: Vaporized, sir. Excuse me, gentlemen.
Director Womack: What? Vaporized? A body can vaporize?
Dr. Stanley Goodspeed: Oh, yeah! Absolutely, sir.
Ben Sanderson: Are you desirable? Are you irresistible? Maybe if you drank bourbon with me, it would help. Maybe if you kissed me and I could taste the sting in your mouth it would help. If you drank bourbon with me naked. If you smelled of bourbon as you fucked me, it would help. It would increase my esteem for you. If you poured bourbon onto your naked body and said to me “drink this”. If you spread your legs and you had bourbon dripping from your breasts and your pussy and said “drink here” then I could fall in love with you. Because then I would have a purpose. To clean you up and that, that would prove that I’m worth something. I’d lick you clean so that you could go away and fuck someone else.
Garland Greene: Two went down, one came up.
Cameron Poe: Wasn’t my fault.
Garland Greene: Well, you don’t have to tell me. Most murders are crimes of necessity rather than desire. But the great ones, Dahmer, Gacy, Bundy. . .they did it because it excited them.
Cameron Poe: Don’t you. . .I got nothing in common with them, with you. Don’t you talk to me! They were insane.
Garland Greene: Now you’re talking semantics. What if I told you insane was working 50 hours a week in some office for 50 years at the end of which they tell you to piss off, ending up in some retirement village hoping to die before suffering the indignity of trying to make it to the toilet on time? Wouldn’t you consider that to be insane?
Cameron Poe: Murdering 30 people, semantics or not, is insane!
Garland Greene: One girl. . .I drove through three states wearing her head as a hat.
Cameron Poe: It’s my daughter’s birthday today. So please feel free not to share everything with me.
Castor Troy: Y’know, I could eat a peach for hours.
Peter Loew: Alva, there is no one else in this entire office that I could possibly ask to share such a horrible job. You’re the lowest on the totem pole here, Alva. The lowest. Do you realize that? Every other secretary here has been here longer than you, Alva. Every one. And even if there was someone here who was here even one day longer than you, I still wouldn’t ask that person to partake in such a miserable job as long as you were around. That’s right, Alva. It’s a horrible, horrible job; sifting through old contract after old contract. I couldn’t think of a more horrible job if I wanted to. And you have to do it! You have to or I’ll fire you. You understand? Do you? Good.