One big dusty place in the South.

I went to see Terrence Malick's Badlands at the Los Angeles County Museum of Arts on Thursday. I wanted to start exploring the legacy of Malick, who is known to have made only four features in the past 40 years, all of them celebrated as masterpieces or widely regarded as gems of film. Malick has remained elusive and distant from the public eye and hence created a mystique around his persona. I guess that in the film world he's seen like some sort of J.D. Salinger as he declines making appearances or even have his likeness used for any promotional purpose and like Salinger he keeps tight control of his work. I imagine that when you're out of the public eye there is less distraction that goes into one's work, and that reclusive persona adds a poetic personality to an artist.

This was Malick's filmmaking debut, which was just as impressive as Peter Bogdanovich’s Last Picture Show(of which we'll discuss in a later episode). Both contemplate the boring life of the scorched lands of the south and in a very stylish way it shows its young characters, who are heavily influenced by the image of the movies in the 50's, as ennui ridden people in the search of anything that may lift them from their crude reality. In Badlands, for example, Martin Sheen’s character Kit sports tight blue jeans and a white t shirt and carries a comb at all times to make himself resemble James Dean. Sissy Spacek’s is Holly, a 15 year old nymphet, eternally sleepy and who lives her life through the movie magazines. Holly sees Kit as a fantasy boyfriend and his disdain towards life (animal or human) makes no horrific impression on her as they embark on a killing spree after Kit kills Holly’s father in her presence and burns her house.

The sporadic narration of Holly are like intimate entries of a teenage girl's diary. You can see that her dewy freckled face, her delicious immaturity and her eagerness to grow older (which in a way has the same qualities as the taciturn girls in the Sofia Coppola movies) as she clumsily applies on make up or runs around with rollers in her hair in a treehouse Kit and Holly built to hide from authorities.

Yes, they're outlaws, but it's the naive way in which they do things, their spontaneous decisions in order to survive the circumstances they built for themselves what makes them relatable to the public. Unfortunately the public I saw the movie with seemed a bit dumb. When Sissy Spacek came out for a Q&A, instead of taking the opportunity to ask an insightful question about her work with Malick in Badlands they kept asking her about her work in the movie "Carrie" and the bucket of blood that drenches her in said movie. Sissy seemed disappointed. Spacek is clearly and genuinely attached to Badlands and how can she not be, it's the film that propelled her to do all the impeccable work she's done in the past 40 years and to become one of the most important American actresses. Gracefully she scolded her dunderheaded audience "Don't you want to talk about Badlands?" "I do", I responded within myself, "I do."

EVA AL DESNUDO

There's very few things more exciting to me than to find out the source of inspiration for certain movies. I'll start by mentioning my favorite movie of all time All About My Mother (1999).
I was always intrigued by Pedro Almodovar's dedication at the end of the movie.:

"To Bette Davis, Gena Rowlands, Romy Schneider…To all actresses who have played actresses, to all women who act, to men who act and become women, to all people who want to become mothers. To my mother.”

Almodovar's references are quite special in this film, since by dedicating it to three of what I presume they're his favorite actresses, he clearly shows that his influences come directly from specific films in which these actresses starred in at one point. Since the beginning of the movie we become aware of his love for Bette Davis, as he derives the title for his own film from All About Eve, which is arguably Davis' most iconic performance. Davis' ghost perfumes the film entirely; you feel her presence in the many characters, especially in Huma (played by one of Almodovar's most loyal collaborators, Marisa Paredes), who channels the spirit of Margo Channing everytime she puffs on a cigarette or simply because she herself says how inspired she is by her. Both films are more interested not in what happens on stage in the theater, but what ultimately happens in the dressing room, in the mirror where the actress sees herself aging, masking herself in make up.

We start the movie and we meet Manuela, our lovely heroine played beautifully by Cecilia Roth, and her son Esteban (Eloy Azorin). It's the eve of Esteban's 17th birthday, and what a better way to celebrate than staying home as they're about to play All About Eve on TV. The version they watch is dubbed to Spanish, however the title of the movie has been changed to something different, something that rings better to the ears, let's say. They've titled the movie "Eva al Desnudo", ( "Eve Unveiled" ). This bothers Esteban, who thinks that translations should be more purist and that they should have dubbed the title properly to "Todo sobre Eva", Manuela disagrees, she thinks "Todo Sobre Eva" sounds weird. Immediately Esteban grabs his notepad, (after all, anyone who yearns to be a writer should not be separated of his notepad) and jots down a few sentences.... He titles this entry "Todo Sobre mi Madre". The point of his pencil presses directly onto the screen, as if this was paper.

Soon we learn that Esteban is intrigued by his mother's mysterious past. Manuela gives Esteban a picture of herself as an actress, but half of the picture is torn; in the half that's missing is Esteban's father. The day of Esteban's birthday, they agree to go to the theater to see A Streetcar Named Desire with Huma Rojo in the role of Blanche Dubois. Manuela tells Esteban that Streetcar Named Desire has a deep meaning to her: in a production of a play many years earlier she had played Stella and Esteban's father had played Stanley Kowalski: As a birthday present, Esteban asks Manuela, I want you to tell me all about my father. She agrees reluctantly, and says to Esteban that she will tell him everything after the play is over.
The production of Streetcar looks minimalist. Mainly a blue background and barely any props around and in there Huma Rojo as Blanche Dubois, entirely an actress, triumphing on stage.

After the play is over, Esteban is eager to get an autograph from Huma Rojo. Here's the point I wanted to illustrate with a bit more detail. So up until now we already know where Bette Davis fits in the dedication from Almodovar, but how about Gena Rowlands? how about Romy Schneider? I saw the John Cassavetes directed film Opening Night many years after I had seen All About My Mother. What made it more rewarding was that clear reference at the beginning of the movie. You can say Huma Rojo is a little bit like Margo Channing and a little bit like Myrtle Gordon(Rowlands' character in Opening Night). After all, all of three of them are middle age actresses who have a fondness to get soused and who often see that aging on stage is not the most gratifying aspect for an actress, especially one who has experienced success during her youth. But Huma Rojo is not as fatalistic as the other two, in a way Huma Rojo is a bit more optimist, and certainly more trusting of people.
In a scene in All About My Mother that mirrors one of the very early scenes in Opening Night, Esteban waits for Huma Rojo under the rain to ask her for an autograph. Huma storms out as she's fighting with her girlfriend and co star in the play, Nina, played by Candela Pena. Esteban runs out to them but he's a bit too late. Huma sees Esteban through the window but the veil of rain makes it difficult for her to understand what Esteban wants. The car departs and Esteban runs after it. He gets hit by another car, and in the only POV sequence of the movie we see through the eyes of Esteban the last moments of his life: his Mother running towards him in disbelief, horrified and at the top of her lungs repeatedly screaming "Hijo mio", drowning in sobs. In the Cassavetes movie, a 17 year old girl and fervent admirer of Myrtle is hidden under raincoat and rain hat and waits outside for Myrtle Gordon, who is accosted by ravenous public and press . The girl is disturbingly emotional and she throws herself at Myrtle, shaking irrationally and weeping of emotion. Myrtle concerned tells the girl to go home, for the rain can cause her to catch pneumonia. The car departs and the adoring girl is violently hit by a car. Next we see, also, the only POV in Opening Night, although much shorter bit, a moment, and instant in the last moment of the girls life. In both movies, the presence of the death of these young people affect the lives of Huma and Myrtle. Both discover the meaningful aspect of things through the tragedy. The young die, the old survive and both filmmakers, Almodovar and Cassavetes, generously express the death of the young by giving them the only POV of their movies: the glossy pavement, the hard rain, the distorted street lights. It gives the audience that experience of how it's like to see one last moment. It is beautiful, and it is painfully expressive.

But we have to remember. There is a third actress to whom Almodovar has dedicated his film to. This being Romy Schneider. I hear that Romy is iconic in Europe, but I must confess that I have NEVER seen a movie with her in it. Yet, I feel somewhat intrigued by who she is. I have a blog titled "Who is Romy Schneider" and is precisely dedicated to a woman, of whom I heard very little and whose historical elusiveness makes her so attractive to me. But regarless of that, her significance in "All About My Mother" is still a riddle I haven't solved.
Incidentally i run into this bit from Andrzej Zulawski's That Most important Thing:Love (which by the way, is impossible to obtain on DVD in America)



I believe I read somewhere that Almodovar dedicated his film to Schneider's due to her performance in Zulawski's film. After seeing this clip there's no doubt in my mind that the emotional outpour in Shneider's face and voice had to bw studied by the actresses of Almodovar. What I love the most about this clip is that immediately transports me to that world where just a great international actress can transport me to. To me the femininity that embalms a movie is what in my mind gives it its heart and these are traits that are commonly found in Almodavar's films. I often think that the tears of a great actress must posses countless supernatural powers, since I can't help it but to feel enraptured by scenes like this. It is hard to describe the reasons of why i liken the clip of this movie to All About My Mother, and perhaps it's not only composition, that melodramatic feel, or the mascara running down Schneider's glorious eyes. But it's also the peculiarity of this scene, such an untraditional scenario. I feel that the vulnerability of a woman is also something that deeply affects Almodovar's vision. In here, Schneider seems to be besieged by what seems to be a film production and she breaks down, not as an actress but as a human in front of everyone, desperately trapped under the eyes of strangers. Margo Channing's vulnerability is clearly displayed at her own party in front of her guests, and Myrtle Gordon unravels on stage, breaking of the acting and surrendering herself open AS Myrtle Gordon on stage, breaking off character and declaring "We must never forget this is only a play". In All About My Mother, vulnerability is what drives the characters; It's the irrevocable loss of her son that makes Manuela leave and revisit her past as an actress and fall back again in the arms of the theater.
I don't think I've figured out the mysteries of "Todo Sobre Mi Madre" yet. I find myself constantly thinking about certain scenes: about that red trench coat, about the Monologue of Agrado in the theater, and still I can't quite decipher what everything means.
The first time I saw this movie was at the Teatro Yara in Havana, Cuba and they played it for 4 months. At the time I just remember the old theater in El Vedado de la Habana, and the melancholic feel of that old marquee with rusted red letters that from the corner across the street touched the edge ocean that was just two blocks down the street. I haven't been back in nearly 12 years, but once I dreamed that they were still playing "todo Sobre Mi Madre" in the Teatro Yara and everytime when the movie is over the first thing one heard was the humming of the ocean from El Malecon of Havana.