(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 7, 2026)
Why not kick off Superbowl Weekend by watching some sports movies? I’ve put together a list of 10 personal faves for you. Hey…save some of that guac for me (no double dipping).
Bend it Like Beckham– Writer-director Gurinder Chadha whips up a cross-cultural masala that entertainingly marries “cheer the underdog” Rocky elements with Bollywood energy. The story centers on a headstrong young Sikh woman (Parminder Nagra) who is upsetting her tradition-minded parents by pursuing her “silly” dream to become a UK soccer star. Chadha weaves in subtext on the difficulties that South Asian immigrants face assimilating into British culture. Also with Keira Knightley and Jonathan Rhys-Meyers.
Breaking Away – This beautifully realized slice of middle-Americana (filmed in Bloomington, Indiana) from director Peter Yates and writer Steve Tesich (an Oscar-winning screenplay) is a perfect film on every level. More than just a sports movie, it’s an insightful coming of age tale and a rumination on small town life.
Dennis Christopher is outstanding as a 19 year-old obsessed with bicycle racing, a pretty coed and anything Italian. He and his pals (Dennis Quaid, Daniel Stern and Jackie Earle Haley) are all on the cusp of adulthood and trying to figure out what to do with their lives. Barbara Barrie and Paul Dooley are warm and funny as Christopher’s blue-collar parents.
Bull Durham– Jules and Jim meets The Natural in writer-director Ron Shelton’s funny, sharply-written and splendidly acted rumination on life, love, and oh yeah-baseball. Kevin Costner gives one of his better performances as a seasoned, world-weary minor league catcher who reluctantly plays mentor to a dim hotshot rookie pitcher (Tim Robbins). Susan Sarandon is a poetry-spouting baseball groupie who selects one player every season to take under her wing and do some special mentoring of her own. A complex love triangle ensues.
Downhill Racer –This underrated 1969 gem from director Michael Ritchie examines the tightly knit and highly competitive world of Olympic downhill skiing. Robert Redford is cast against type, and consequently delivers one of his more interesting performances as a talented but arrogant athlete who joins up with the U.S. Olympic ski team. Gene Hackman is outstanding as the coach who finds himself at loggerheads with Redford’s contrariety. Ritchie’s debut film has a verite feel that lends the story a realistic edge. James Salter adapted the screenplay from Oakley Hall’s novel The Downhill Racers.
Fat City – John Huston’s gritty, low-key character study was a surprise hit at Cannes in 1972. Adapted by Leonard Gardner from his own novel, it’s a tale of shattered dreams, desperate living and beautiful losers (Gardner seems to be the missing link between John Steinbeck and Charles Bukowski). Filmed on location in Stockton, California, the story centers on a boozy, low-rent boxer well past his prime (Stacey Keach), who becomes a mentor to a young up-and-comer (Jeff Bridges) and starts a relationship with a fellow barfly (Susan Tyrell).
This film chugs along at the speed of life (i.e., not a lot “happens”), but the performances are so fleshed out you forget you’re witnessing “acting”. One scene in particular, in which Keach and Tyrell’s characters first hook up in a sleazy bar, is a veritable masterclass in the craft.
Granted, it’s one of the most depressing films you’ll ever see (think Barfly meets The Wrestler), but still well worth your time. Masterfully directed by Huston, with “lived-in” natural light photography by DP Conrad Hall. You will be left haunted by Kris Kristofferson’s “Help Me Make it Through the Night”, which permeates the film.
Hoop Dreams–One of the most acclaimed documentaries of all time, with good reason. Ostensibly “about” basketball, it is at its heart about perseverance, love, and family; which is probably why it struck such a chord with audiences as well as critics.
Director Steve James follows the lives of two young men from the inner city for a five-year period, as they pursue their dreams of becoming professional basketball players. Just when you think you have the film pigeonholed, it takes off in unexpected directions, making for a much more riveting story than you’d expect. A winner.
North Dallas Forty– Nick Nolte and Mac Davis lead a spirited cast in this locker room peek at pro football players and the political machinations of team owners. Some of the vignettes are based on the real-life hi-jinks of the Dallas Cowboys, replete with assorted off-field debaucheries. Charles Durning is perfect as the coach. Peter Gent adapted the screenplay from his novel. This film is so entertaining that I can almost forgive director Ted Kotcheff for his later films Rambo: FirstBlood and Weekend at Bernie’s.
Personal Best – When this film was released, there was so much ado over brief love scenes between Mariel Hemingway and co-star Patrice Donnelly that many failed to notice that it was one of the most realistic, empowering portrayals of female athletes to date. Writer-director Robert Towne did his homework; he spent time observing Olympic track stars at work and play. The women are shown to be just as tough and competitive as their male counterparts; Hemingway and (real-life pentathlete) Donnelly give fearless performances. Scott Glenn is excellent as a hard-driving coach.
Slapshot– Paul Newman skates away with his role as the coach of a slumping minor league hockey team in this puckish satire (sorry), directed by George Roy Hill. In a desperate play to save the team, Newman decides to pull out all the stops and play dirty.
The entire ensemble is wonderful, and screenwriter Nancy Dowd’s riotously profane locker room dialog will have you rolling. Newman’s Cool Hand Luke co-star Strother Martin (as the team’s manager) is a scene-stealer. Perennially underrated Lindsey Crouse (in a rare comedic role) is memorable as a sexually frustrated “sports wife” . Michael Ontkean performs the funniest striptease in film history, and the cheerfully truculent “Hanson Brothers” are a hoot.
This Sporting Life –Lindsay Anderson’s 1963 drama was one of the “angry young man” films that stormed from the U.K. in the late 50s and early 60s, steeped in “kitchen sink” realism and working class angst. A young, Brando-like Richard Harris tears up the screen as a thuggish, egotistical rugby player with a natural gift for the game who becomes an overnight star. Former pro rugby player David Storey adapted the screenplay from his own novel.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on January 31, 2026)
[after learning of the Doomsday Machine]
President Merkin Muffley: But this is absolute madness, Ambassador! Why should you *build* such a thing?
Ambassador de Sadesky: There were those of us who fought against it, but in the end we could not keep up with the expense involved in the arms race, the space race, and the peace race. At the same time our people grumbled for more nylons and washing machines. Our doomsday scheme cost us just a small fraction of what we had been spending on defense in a single year. The deciding factor was when we learned that your country was working along similar lines, and we were afraid of a doomsday gap.
President Merkin Muffley: This is preposterous. I’ve never approved of anything like that.
Ambassador de Sadesky: Our source was the New York Times.
— from Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb; screenplay by Stanley Kubrick, Terry Southern and Peter George
Venezuela’s defence minister has accused the United States of using the country as a “weapons laboratory” during the abduction of President Nicolas Maduro and his wife, Cilia Flores, on January 3.
Vladimir Padrino Lopez said last week that the US had used Venezuela as a testing ground for “advanced military technologies” that rely on artificial intelligence and weaponry never used before, according to the Venezuelan newspaper El Universal.
On Sunday, US President Donald Trump told the New York Post that US forces had indeed used a weapon he referred to as “the discombobulator”.
“I’m not allowed to talk about it,” he said, adding that the weapon “made equipment not work” during the operation.
Details of the US military mission to abduct Maduro have not been made public, but the US has been known to use weapons to disorient soldiers and guards or disable equipment and infrastructure in the past. […]
Days after Maduro’s abduction, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt reposted comments that appeared to have been posted on X by a Venezuelan security guard. He wrote that the US had “launched something” during the operation that “was like a very intense sound wave”.
“Suddenly, I felt like my head was exploding from the inside,” the security guard wrote. “We all started bleeding from the nose. Some were vomiting blood. We fell to the ground, unable to move.”
Al Jazeera has not been able to verify this account.
The “Discombobulator”. Fanciful term. Like …a “Doomsday Machine”?
A year ago, we warned that the world was perilously close to global disaster and that any delay in reversing course increased the probability of catastrophe. Rather than heed this warning, Russia, China, the United States, and other major countries have instead become increasingly aggressive, adversarial, and nationalistic. Hard-won global understandings are collapsing, accelerating a winner-takes-all great power competition and undermining the international cooperation critical to reducing the risks of nuclear war, climate change, the misuse of biotechnology, the potential threat of artificial intelligence, and other apocalyptic dangers. Far too many leaders have grown complacent and indifferent, in many cases adopting rhetoric and policies that accelerate rather than mitigate these existential risks. Because of this failure of leadership, the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists Science and Security Board today sets the Doomsday Clock at 85 seconds to midnight, the closest it has ever been to catastrophe.
Could you be more …specific?
Last year started with a glimmer of hope in regard to nuclear risks, as incoming US President Donald Trump made efforts to halt the Russia-Ukraine war and even suggested that major powers pursue “denuclearization.” Over the course of 2025, however, negative trends—old and new—intensified, with three regional conflicts involving nuclear powers all threatening to escalate. The Russia–Ukraine war has featured novel and potentially destabilizing military tactics and Russian allusions to nuclear weapons use. Conflict between India and Pakistan erupted in May, leading to cross-border drone and missile attacks amid nuclear brinkmanship. In June, Israel and the United States launched aerial attacks on Iranian nuclear facilities suspected of supporting the country’s nuclear weapons ambitions. It remains unclear whether the attacks constrained those efforts—or if they instead persuaded the country to pursue nuclear weapons covertly.
Anyway, feel free to read the entire statement; it goes on to discuss additional factors like climate change, developments in artificial intelligence, the proliferation of autocratic regimes, and there’s something about a magic ring and the end of the world, yadda-yadda-yadda. Don’t panic. These science types tend to be alarmists; I doubt if we’re in any immediate danger.
President Trump’s “massive armada” of warships and fighter planes near Iran mirrors the military buildup of assets in the Caribbean as the president weighs greenlighting strikes against the Islamic Republic.
The military buildup, bolstered with the recent arrival of the USS Abraham Lincoln and its strike group in the U.S. Central Command (Centcom) area, has swelled with additional destroyers approaching Iran, expanding Trump’s attack and defensive options in the region.
The administration dispatched dozens of warships and stationed about 15,000 U.S. service members in the U.S. Southern Command (Southcom) area, which culminated in an early January operation in which Venezuelan leader Nicolás Maduro and his wife were snatched by U.S. Special Forces.
Similarly to Venezuela, the U.S. has at least 10 warships near Iran, and the administration has sent additional fighter jets, air defense systems and drones to the region.
Just like Maduro, Iranian officials are not acquiescing to Trump’s demands. He has called on Iran to halt the enrichment of uranium, place limits on its ballistic missile program and end ties with terror proxy groups. […]
Washington has also sent additional F-15s and cargo planes to the region, expanding the president’s strike options, according to flight-tracking data.
Trump said Friday that he gave Iran a deadline and reiterated that Tehran wants to strike a deal with the U.S. When asked by a reporter if the president has a timeline for potentially pulling back the U.S. presence near Iran, he said, “No, we’ll see how it all works out.”
“You know, they have to float someplace, so they might as well float near Iran. But it’s a rough situation going on,” Trump told reporters at the White House.
OK …I wasn’t saying that we wouldn’t get our hair mussed.
Again, I’m not trying to be Chicken Little here…but if you’ve never had a chance to see the aforementioned Dr. Strangelove, this might be a good time to check it off your bucket list.
Here’s a piece I wrote [checks notes] on the cusp of the first Trump regime:
Plus ca change: Criterion reissues Dr. Strangelove
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on July 16, 2016)
Now then, Dmitri, you know how we’ve always talked about the possibility of something going wrong with the Bomb…The *Bomb*, Dmitri… The *hydrogen* bomb!…Well now, what happened is… ahm…one of our base commanders, he had a sort of…well, he went a little funny in the head… you know…just a little…funny. And, ah…he went and did a silly thing…Well, I’ll tell you what he did. He ordered his planes…to attack your country…
–from Dr. Strangelove (1964)
That’s POTUS Merkin Muffley (Peter Sellers), making “the call” to the Russian premier from the War Room, regarding an unfortunate chain of events that may very well signal the end of civilization as we know it. It’s a nightmare scenario, precipitated by a perfect storm of political paranoia, bureaucratic bungling and ideological demagoguery that enables the actions of a lone nutcase to trigger global thermonuclear war. Sound familiar?
“Mein fuehrer! I can walk!” Although we have yet (knock on wood) to experience the global thermonuclear annihilation that ensues following the wheelchair-bound Dr. Strangelove’s joyous (if short-lived) epiphany, so many other depictions in Stanley Kubrick’s seriocomic 1964 masterpiece about the tendency for people in power to eventually rise to their own level of incompetence have since come to pass, that you wonder why Kubrick and company bothered to make it all up.
In case you skipped the quote at the top of this piece, it’s the movie about an American military base commander who goes a little funny in the head (you know…”funny”) and sort of launches a nuclear attack on the Soviet Union. Hilarity (and oblivion) ensues.
You rarely see a cast like this: Peter Sellers (playing three characters), George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Slim Pickens, Keenan Wynn, James Earl Jones and Peter Bull (who can be seen breaking character as the Russian ambassador and cracking up as Strangelove’s prosthetic arm seems to take on a mind of its own).
There are so many great lines, that you might as well bracket the entire screenplay (by Kubrick, Terry Southern and Peter George) with quotation marks.
Vodka. That’s what they drink, isn’t it? Never water? On no account will a Commie ever drink water, and not without good reason. Water is the source of all life. Seven-tenths of this earth’s surface is water. Why, do you realize that 70 percent of you is water? And as human beings, you need fresh, pure water to replenish our precious bodily fluids. Are you beginning to understand? –Gen. Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden), from Dr. Strangelove
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (its full title) did not necessarily spring from a, you know, “funny” place. Indeed, Red Alert, ex-RAF officer Peter George’s 1958 source novel, was anything but; and did not even include the character of Dr. Strangelove, the ex-Nazi scientist who emerges from the shadows of the war room just in time to contextualize all that inspired madness of the film’s third act. “He” was the invention of Kubrick and screenwriter Terry Southern.
In a 1994 Grand Street article called “Notes from the War Room”, Southern recounts Kubrick’s epiphany:
[Kubrick] told me he was going to make a film about “our failure to understand the dangers on nuclear war.” He said that he had thought of the story as a “straightforward melodrama” until this morning when he “woke up and realized that nuclear war was too outrageous, too fantastic to be treated in any conventional manner.” He said he could only see it now as “some kind of hideous joke.”
Kubrick had approached Southern as a collaborator on the basis of having read his social satire The MagicChristian (which was itself adapted for the screen in 1969). You have to keep in mind that while Kubrick’s film was in production, the October 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis was still fresh in the minds of a nervous public.
This was the height of the Cold War; few people found nuclear annihilation to be, you, know, “funny”…least of all studio suits. When Sellers backed out of the role of Major Kong (to Kubrick’s chagrin), it was first offered to Bonanza star Dan Blocker. Southern recalls (from the same article):
[Kubrick] made arrangements for a script to be delivered to Blocker that afternoon, but a cabled response from Blocker’s agent arrived in quick order: “Thanks a lot, but the material is too pinko for Dan. Or anyone else we know, for that matter. Regards, Leibman, CMA.”
As I recall, this was the first hint that this sort of political interpretation of our work in progress might exist. Stanley seemed genuinely surprised and disappointed.
But it worked out in the end. Could you imagine anyone but Slim Pickens as Maj. Kong?
Survival kit contents check. In them you’ll find: one forty-five caliber automatic; two boxes of ammunition; four days’ concentrated emergency rations; one drug issue containing antibiotics, morphine, vitamin pills, pep pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizer pills; one miniature combination Russian phrase book and Bible; one hundred dollars in rubles; one hundred dollars in gold; nine packs of chewing gum; one issue of prophylactics; three lipsticks; three pair of nylon stockings. Shoot, a fella’ could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff. –Major Kong prepping his B-52 crew
It was in the interest of possible “political interpretation” that a critical revision had to be made to that memorable monolog in post-production. In an eerie bit of kismet, Kubrick had scheduled the first test screening of Dr. Strangelove for November 22, 1963…the day of JFK’s assassination; in view of that zeitgeist-shattering event, the film’s originally slated December premiere was postponed until late January of 1964.
But that wasn’t the spookiest part. Originally, the last line of the bit was: “Shoot, a fella’ could have a pretty good weekend in Dallas with all that stuff.” Pickens had to be recruited to re-loop the line as we now know it. If you listen carefully during the scene, you can pick up on the edit.
However it did manage to fall together is really moot; the final product stands the test of time as a satire that will never lose relevancy (one could say that about any Kubrick film, as each ultimately points to the absurdity of all these self-important hominids, scurrying about blissfully oblivious to their insignificance within a vast, randomly cruel cosmos).
Hell, Mr. President…I could do a 2,000 word dissertation on the Freudian subtext alone; from the opening montage of aircraft engaging in (decidedly coital) airborne re-fueling maneuvers, to General Ripper firing the .50 caliber machine gun from his crotch, not to mention his cigar and his monolog about why he denies women his “essence”, to the character’s names (Dr. Strangelove, President Muffley, Buck Turgidson, Mr. Staines), and of course all of that phallic weaponry, and montage of nuclear explosions at the end.
But I won’t.
“Oh…and uh, shug? Don’t forget to say your prayers!”
Fans of the film will be glad to hear that Dr. Strangelove has been given the Criterion treatment, with the release of their Blu-ray edition. The restored 4k transfer is gorgeous; the best print I’ve seen of the film on home video (this is the third digital version I’ve owned…it’s a sickness, I know).
They’ve really piled on the extras; there’s a plethora of archival interviews, as well as featurettes produced exclusively for this edition, like audio essays by film scholars and interviews with Kubrick collaborators and archivists. So fans can immerse themselves in the Strangelovian universe…if that doesn’t seem redundant.
Oh, when November rolls around…don’t forget to say your prayers.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on January 28, 2026)
“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.”
— Victor Hugo
On April 7, 1968-just 3 days after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., Nina Simone performed this song in New York:
Simone’s bassist Gene Taylor had composed it right after Dr. King was killed; the song (and Simone’s emotional performance) is all the more remarkable for being at once so timely, and timeless.
In 1968, music was our social media. Otis Spann was another artist who paid musical tribute to Dr. King, writing and performing two songs about the slain civil rights leader just days after his death. His “Blues for Martin Luther King” gives us the news and preaches the blues:
On May 4, 1970, 4 students at Ohio’s Kent State University died when National Guard troops opened fire on protestors. When Neil Young saw the photos of the incident in Life magazine soon afterwards, he was moved to write the now-iconic protest anthem “Ohio”, which was recorded by Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young just two weeks later and rush-released as a single one month to the day after the killings:
The following year, Bob Dylan felt similarly compelled to express outrage in song, after Black Panther leader/author/prison activist George Jackson was shot to death by guards during an escape attempt at San Quentin (there was contention over whether or not his killing was a set-up). Dylan’s single “George Jackson” was released just three months after the incident:
Flash forward to 2026. Folk singer Phil Ochs once said, “A protest song is a song that’s so specific that you cannot mistake it for bullshit.”
When they came for the immigrants
I got in their face
When they came for the refugees
I got in their face When they came for the five year olds
I got in their face…
You may be thinking: “Those lyrics could have been written this week!”
If that’s what you’re thinking…you’re right. They were written this week, by political song smith extraordinaire/activist Billy Bragg, who posted this song on YouTube yesterday:
And we got this memo from the Boss today, posted on BlueSky:
I wrote this song on Saturday, recorded it yesterday and released it to you today in response to the state terror being visited on the city of Minneapolis. It’s dedicated to the people of Minneapolis, our innocent immigrant neighbors and in memory of Alex Pretti and Renee Good.
Stay free.
You can’t mistake that for bullshit. It’s tough not to despair right now, but as Kris Kristofferson advised:“Don’t let the bastards get you down.”
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on January 24, 2026)
In my review of the documentary Antarctica: A Year on Ice, I wrote:
For decades now, my long-time Alaskan friends and I have speculated as to why no one has ever thought to produce a documentary about the unique, once-in-a-lifetime experience shared by the thousands of men and women who worked on the massive Trans-Alaska Pipeline construction project back in the 1970s. From 1975-1977, I worked as a laborer on the project (that’s right…Fairbanks Local #942, baby!), doing 6-to-10 week stints in far-flung locales with exotic handles like Coldfoot, Old Man, Happy Valley, and the ever-popular Pump Station #3 (now that was one cold motherfucker).
These remote work camps, frequently the only bastions of “civilization” for hundreds of square miles in all directions, developed their own unique culture…part moon base, part Dodge City. It’s a vibe that is tough to explain to anyone who wasn’t actually there. Traditionally, I usually cite the sci-fi “western” Outland as the closest approximation.
They don’t call Alaska “The Last Frontier” for nothing. Yippee ki-yay.
Yes, the subarctic can be harsh and otherworldly. Yet, there is also poetry there…as these verses from Robert Service’s “The Spell of the Yukon” attest:
I’ve stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow
That’s plumb-full of hush to the brim;
I’ve watched the big, husky sun wallow
In crimson and gold, and grow dim,
Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming,
And the stars tumbled out, neck and crop;
And I’ve thought that I surely was dreaming,
With the peace o’ the world piled on top.
The summer—no sweeter was ever;
The sunshiny woods all athrill;
The grayling aleap in the river,
The bighorn asleep on the hill.
The strong life that never knows harness;
The wilds where the caribou call;
The freshness, the freedom, the farness—
O God! how I’m stuck on it all.
The winter! the brightness that blinds you,
The white land locked tight as a drum,
The cold fear that follows and finds you,
The silence that bludgeons you dumb.
The snows that are older than history,
The woods where the weird shadows slant;
The stillness, the moonlight, the mystery,
I’ve bade ’em good-by—but I can’t
I second that emotion. From my review of the documentary Happy People: A Year in the Taiga:
As I was watching the film, a certain sense of familiarity began to gnaw at me. It was something about the stark wintry beauty of naturally flocked spruce forests, the crisp contrast of white birch against blue skies, and the odd moose galumphing into the frame. Or maybe it was the relentless vampirism of swarming mosquitos during the short but intense sub-arctic summer. Then it dawned on me. I had lived there! Was this a past life memory? Then I remembered that I don’t believe in that sort of thing…so I Googled a map of Siberia, which solved the mystery: the village of Bakhta lies roughly on the same longitude as Fairbanks, Alaska, where I lived for 23 years. I couldn’t see Russia from my house, but I now feel a spiritual kinship with these hardy Siberians. Okay, I’m not a survivalist (if I were to venture out on Gennady’s trap line; I’d end up like the protagonists in Kalatozov’s Letter Never Sent). But I think you catch my drift…
Winter Storm Fern could etch itself into weather history in four different ways across the South, Midwest and Northeast.Some winter storms affect only a relatively limited area. Not Winter Storm Fern.
Fern is expected to dump significant snow and/or ice over 34 states affecting over 220 million people in the U.S. That’s almost two out of every three Americans, according to population estimates.
Fern will also dump significant snow in parts of southeastern and Atlantic Canada.
This storm will lead to widespread dangerous travel for days, and “catastrophic” ice accumulations in the South could lead to widespread power outages and tree damage, according to NOAA’s Weather Prediction Center. […]
This could be the region’s most widespread, damaging ice storm in at least several years, with damage that could take days to recover from.
Weather forecasters are also warning about possible snow accumulations of 12 inches or more in some areas, as well as record cold temperatures.
I’ve bade ’em good-by—but I can’t.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: “I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”; … then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear you’ll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it’s the first time I’ve been warm.”
–from “The Cremation of Sam McGee”, by Robert Service
Don’t try that at home, kids…but do what you can keep warm, and stay safe. In the meantime, grab yourself a cup of hot chocolate (those directly in path of the storm may want to add a splash of Kahlua), a good pair of noise-cancelling ‘phones, and curl up with my wintry mixtape. As usual, best enjoyed in the order presented:
“The Immigrant Song” – Led Zeppelin
“Waiting for the Winter” – The Popguns
“Hazy Shade of Winter” – The Bangles
“Baby it’s Cold Outside” – Pezband
“Snowman” – XTC
“Winter in the Country” – Cleaners from Venus
“Valley Winter Song” – Fountains of Wayne
“Life in a Northern Town” – The Dream Academy
“Skyway” – The Replacements
“Snowstorm” – Galaxie 500
“Winter Song” – The Screaming Trees
“Winter” – The Rolling Stones
“South Side of the Sky” – Yes
“Rangers at Midnight” – Crack the Sky
“The Northern Lights” – Renaissance
“Snowbound” – Genesis
“I Am a Rock” – Simon and Garfunkel
“California Dreaming” – Mamas and the Papas
“Sometimes in Winter” – Blood, Sweat, and Tears
“Wintertime Love” – The Doors
“Winter Winds” – Fotheringay
“Skating Away (On the Thin Ice of a New Day)” – Jethro Tull
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on January 17, 2026)
“We are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history, there “is” such a thing as being too late. This is no time for apathy or complacency. This is a time for vigorous and positive action.”
― Martin Luther King Jr.
That oft-quoted excerpt is from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, which he delivered to a crowd of 250,000 civil rights workers in Washington D.C. in the summer of 1963. He may have said “we are now faced with the fact that tomorrow is today” 62 years ago, but his emphasis on the “urgency of now” rings truer than ever:
This is how far you have to scroll on the NYTimes homepage to get any coverage of what's going on day-to-day in an occupied American city where schools are closing because the government is checking the papers of all brown or Asian people then brutalizing, imprisoning or killing them.
During the 2020 protests ignited by George Floyd’s death, I wrote:
Yes, I live in a blue city chock full of Marxists and dirty Hippies. Few cities are “bluer” than Seattle. We have a weed shop on every corner. We have public statues of Jimi Hendrix and V.I. Lenin. We have a progressive, openly gay female mayor. We have a female African American police chief. We have a high-profile female city council member who is a Socialist Alternative. As Merlin once foretold-a dream for some…a nightmare for others:
Oh, dear. Let’s take a peek at the terrorist-fueled burning and pillaging that has been raging in Seattle’s Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone for the past week (sensitive viewers be warned):
The humanity. Not quite as harrowing as a Burning Man festival…but in the ballpark.
My insufferable facetiousness aside, there is in fact a “revolution” happening in Seattle right now; and on streets all over America. “Revolution” doesn’t always equate “burning and pillaging”. Granted, some of that did occur when the protests started two weeks ago.
There’s something happening here What it is ain’t exactly clear There’s a man with a gun over there Telling me I got to beware I think it’s time we stop, children, what’s that sound Everybody look what’s going down
— The Buffalo Springfield, “For What It’s Worth”
But there is something happening here; something percolating worldwide that goes deeper than that initial visceral expression of outrage over the injustice of George Floyd’s senseless death; it feels like change may be in the offing. It will still take some…nudging. And I fear some feathers may get ruffled.
It isn’t nice to block the doorway, It isn’t nice to go to jail, There are nicer ways to do it But the nice ways always fail.
— Malvina Reynolds, “It Isn’t Nice”
*sigh* I was such a silly Polyanna. Digby posted this a couple days ago:
In case you were wondering what MAGA is saying about Minnesota:
MAGA influencer Steve Bannon suggested that President Donald Trump should invoke the Insurrection Act in Minnesota because “they hate white people” in the state.
After Trump threatened to use the law to send troops to Minnesota, Bannon opened his Thursday War Room show with a full-throated endorsement of the idea.
“We demand mass deportations!” Bannon exclaimed. “Not the onesies, twosies you’re seen in Minnesota. You haven’t seen anything yet. We’re the biggest advocate of invoking the Insurrection Act and going in and cleaning out the mess.”
“And what you see in Minnesota is an act of — they hate America, they hate American citizens, dare I say they hate white people?” he continued. “We have said for a long time, this is where the rubber meets the road, this is where the fight’s going to be. Bring it.”
“And that scum in the streets, bring it. Let’s invoke the Insurrection Act and let’s do it today. Let’s get up there and clean out that mess.”
Yeah, Minnesota hates white people. Can he hear himself? Minnesota? Has he seen who is protesting there?
Minnesota has a predominantly White population around 75-78%, Black around 7%, Asian around 5%, Hispanic/Latino around 6-7%, and Two or More Races around 4-5%.
It’s so idiotic I don’t know what to say.
Bannon and his ilk are promoting a race war which is pretty much where we’ve been headed since Trump came down that escalator 10 years ago.
Plus ca change…
And now there’s this:
I took that screenshot directly from the official government National Parks website today. Do you notice anything…missing this year? Here’s another clue for you all:
National park goers will not get free admission on Martin Luther King Jr. Day – a change from years past.
When the National Park Service announced free-entrance days for 2026, both Martin Luther King Jr. Day and Juneteenth were left off the list. They were replaced by other days, including Flag Day on June 14, which is also President Trump’s birthday.
The shift to remove the days tied to Black history was condemned by Derrick Johnson, the president and CEO of NAACP.
“Removing MLK Day and Juneteenth from the national parks calendar is more than petty politics — it’s an attack on the truth of this nation’s history,” Johnson said in a statement.
The National Park Service started free entry days in 2009. The selection and number of days have varied, but Martin Luther King Jr. Day has been on the list ever since 2011.
To Omar Montgomery, the president of the NAACP Rocky Mountain state conference for Colorado, Montana and Wyoming, the day’s removal felt like an effort by the Trump Administration to undermine and erase the contributions of Black people in the United States.
“If the federal government is sending the message that the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. is a day that we don’t have special accommodations for people to get into national parks for free,” he said, “then what you’re saying is, this day is also not important for our schools to be able to talk about the holiday.”
NAACP said the removal of free entry days followed other actions by the Trump Administration to suppress Black history. According to reporting by The Washington Post, National Park Service officials last year ordered the removal of interpretive materials related to slavery.
The National Park Service did not respond to a request for comment on this story. The changes to free entrance days coincided with other policy shifts, including special fees for international visitors.
Somebody’s white slip is showing.
The fierce urgency of now. In honor of Martin Luther King Day, I’ve combed my review archives and curated 10 films that reflect on race relations in America; some that look back at where we’ve been, some that give us a reality check on where we’re at now and maybe even one or two that offer hope for the future. We still may not have quite reached that “promised land” of colorblind equality, but each of us doing whatever we can in our own small way to help keep Dr. King’s legacy alive will surely help light the way-especially in these dark times.
BlackKkKlansman (2018)– So what do you get if you cross Cyrano de Bergerac with Blazing Saddles? You might get Spike Lee’s BlackKkKlansman. That is not to say that Lee’s film is a knee-slapping comedy; far from it. Lee takes the true story of Ron Stallworth (John David Washington), an African-American undercover cop who managed to infiltrate the KKK in Colorado in the early 70s and runs with it, in his inimitable fashion.
I think this is Lee’s most affecting and hard-hitting film since Do the Right Thing (1989). The screenplay (adapted by Charlie Wachtel, David Rabinowitz, Kevin Willmott and Lee from Stallworth’s eponymous memoir) is equal parts biopic, docudrama, police procedural and social commentary, finding a nice balance of drama, humor and suspense. (Full review)
The Black Power Mixtape (2011)–Historically, the Black Power movement of the mid-60s to mid-70s has been somewhat misrepresented, with a tendency to spotlight its more sensationalist elements. The time is ripe to re-examine the movement, which despite its flaws, represents one of the last truly progressive grass roots political awakenings we’ve had in this country (if you’re expecting bandolier-wearing, pistol-waving interviewees spouting fiery Marxist-tinged rhetoric-dispense with that hoary stereotype now).
Director Goran Olsson was given access to a trove of vintage yet pristine 16mm footage that had been tucked away for years in the basement of Swedish Television; representing a decade of candid interviews with movement leaders, as well as meticulous documentation of Black Panther Party activities. Olsson presents the clips in a historically chronological timeline, with minimal commentary. While not perfect, it is an essential document, and one of the more eye-opening films I have seen on this subject. (Full review)
The Boys of Baraka (2005) – Co-directors Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady deliver a fresh take on a well-worn cause celebre: the sad, shameful state of America’s inner-city school system. Eschewing the usual hand-wringing about the underfunded, over-crowded, glorified daycare centers that many of these institutions have become for poor, disenfranchised urban youth, the filmmakers chose to showcase one program that strove to make a real difference.
The story follows a group of 12-year-old boys from Baltimore who attended a boarding school in Kenya, staffed by American teachers and social workers. In addition to more personalized tutoring, there was emphasis on conflict resolution through communication, tempered by a “tough love” approach. The events that unfold from this bold social experiment (filmed over a three year period) are alternately inspiring and heartbreaking. (Full review)
The Force (2017) – Peter Nicks’ documentary examines the rocky relationship between Oakland’s police department and its communities of color. The force has been under federal oversight since 2002, due to myriad misconduct cases. Nicks utilizes the same cinema verite techniques that made his film The Waiting Room so compelling. It’s like a real-life Joseph Wambaugh novel (The Choirboys comes to mind). The film offers no easy answers-but delivers an intimate, insightful glimpse at both sides. (Full review)
The Girls in the Band (2011)– Contextual to a curiously overlooked component within the annals of American jazz music, it’s tempting to extrapolate on Dr. King’s dream. Wouldn’t it be great to live in a nation where one is not only primarily judged by content of character, but can also be judged on the merits of creativity, or the pure aesthetics of artistic expression, as opposed to being judged solely by the color of one’s skin…or perhaps gender? At the end of the day, what is a “black”, or a “female” jazz musician? Why is it that a Dave Brubeck is never referred to as a “white” or “male” jazz musician?
In her film, director Judy Chaikin chronicles the largely unsung contributions that female jazz musicians (a large portion of them African-American) have made (and continue to make) to this highly influential American art form. Utilizing rare archival footage and interviews with veteran and contemporary players, Chaikin has assembled an absorbing, poignant, and celebratory piece. (Full review)
I Am Not Your Negro (2016)– The late writer and social observer James Baldwin once said that “Whatever white people do not know about Negroes reveals, precisely and inexorably, what they do not know about themselves.” Sadly, thanks to the emboldening of certain elements within American society that have been drawn from the shadows by the openly racist rhetoric that spouted from the Former Occupant of the White House, truer words have never been spoken.
Indeed, anyone who watches Raoul Peck’s documentary will recognize not only the beauty of Baldwin’s prose, but the prescience of such observations. Both are on display in Peck’s timely treatise on race relations in America, in which he mixes archival news footage, movie clips, and excerpts from Baldwin’s TV appearances with narration by an uncharacteristically subdued Samuel L. Jackson, reading excerpts from Baldwin’s unfinished book, Remember This House. An excellent and enlightening film. (Full review)
In the Heat of the Night(1967)–“They call me Mister Tibbs!” In this classic (which won 1967’s Best Picture Oscar) the late Sidney Poitier plays a cosmopolitan police detective from Philly who gets waylaid in a torpid Mississippi backwater, where he is reluctantly recruited into helping the bigoted sheriff (Rod Steiger) solve a local murder. Poitier nails his performance; you can feel Virgil Tibb’s pain as he tries to maintain his professional cool amidst a brace of surly rednecks, who throw up roadblocks at every turn.
While Steiger is outstanding as well, I find it ironic that he won “Best Actor in a leading role”, when Poitier was ostensibly the star of the film (it seems Hollywood didn’t get the film’s message). Sterling Silliphant’s brilliant screenplay (another Oscar) works as a crime thriller and a “fish out of water” story. Director Norman Jewison was nominated but didn’t score a win. Future director Hal Ashby won for Best Editing. Quincy Jones composed the soundtrack, and Ray Charles sings the sultry theme. (Full review)
The Landlord (1970)–Hal Ashby only directed a relative handful of films, but most, especially his 70’s output, were built to last (Harold and Maude, The Last Detail, Bound for Glory, Shampoo, Being There).
In The Landlord, Beau Bridges plays a trustafarian with “liberal views” that his conservative parents find troubling…especially after he buys a run-down inner-city tenement, with intentions to renovate. His subsequent involvement with the various black tenants is played sometimes for laughs, other times for intense drama, but always for real. The social satire and observations about race relations are dead-on, but never preachy or condescending.
Top-notch ensemble work, featuring a young Lou Gossett (with hair!) giving a memorable turn. The lovely Susan Anspach is hilarious as Bridge’s perpetually stoned and bemused sister. A scene featuring Pearl Bailey and Lee Grant getting drunk and bonding over a bottle of “sparkling” wine is a minor classic all on its own. Moses Gunn’s sharp screenplay was adapted from Kristin Hunter’s novel. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore-honest, bold, uncompromising, socially and politically meaningful, yet also entertaining. (Full review)
Let the Fire Burn(2013)– While obscured in public memory by the (relatively) more “recent” 1993 Branch Davidian siege in Waco, the eerily similar demise of the Philadelphia-based MOVE organization 8 years earlier was no less tragic on a human level, nor any less disconcerting in its ominous sociopolitical implications.
In this compelling documentary, director Jason Osder has parsed a trove of archival “live-at-the-scene” TV reports, deposition videos, law enforcement surveillance footage, and other sundry “found” footage (much of it previously unseen by the general public) and created a tight narrative that plays like an edge-of-your-seat political thriller.
Let the Fire Burn is not only an essential document of an American tragedy, but a cautionary tale and vital reminder of how far we have yet to go to completely purge the vestiges of institutional racism in this country. (Full review)
The Trials of Muhammad Ali (2013)– There have been a number of films documenting and dramatizing the extraordinary life of Muhammad Ali, but they all share a curious anomaly. Most have tended to gloss over Ali’s politically volatile “exile years” (1967-1970), during which the American sports icon was officially stripped of his heavyweight crown and essentially “banned” from professional boxing after his very public refusal to be inducted into the Army on the grounds of conscientious objection to the Vietnam War.
Director Bill Siegel (The Weather Underground) fills in those blanks in his documentary. As you watch the film, you begin to understand how Ali the sports icon transmogrified into an influential sociopolitical figure, even if he didn’t set out to become the latter. It was more an accident of history; Ali’s affiliation with the Nation of Islam and stance against the Vietnam War put him at the confluence of both the burgeoning Black Power and anti-war movements. How it all transpired makes an absorbing watch. (Full review)
It seems like a good time to re-post this one. Ocean waves, Bob. -D.H.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 4, 2023)
Dee: Jane, do you ever feel like you are just this far from being completely hysterical twenty-four hours a day?
Jane: Half the people I know feel that way. The lucky ones feel that way. The rest of the people ARE hysterical twenty-four hours a day.
— from Grand Canyon, screenplay by Lawrence and Meg Kasdan
HAL 9000: Look Dave, I can see you’re really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over.
— from 2001: A Space Odyssey, screenplay by Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke
George Fields: [to Dorothy/Michael] I BEGGED you to get therapy!
— from Tootsie, screenplay by Murray Schisgal
As if the mid-winter blues weren’t enough, there’s been an odd confluence of celestial events recently – a close encounter with a hurtling asteroid, an eerie green comet lighting up the night skies, and the mysterious appearance of a high altitude “spy balloon” the size of three metro buses that has the conspiracy nuts twisting themselves into pretzels. Not that I believe in heavenly portents, but I am feeling the need for some “cinema therapy” right about now.
With that in mind, here are 12 films I’ve watched an unhealthy number of times; the ones I’m most likely to reach for when I’m depressed, anxious, uncertain about the future…or all the above. These films, like my oldest and dearest friends, have never, ever let me down. Take one or two before bedtime; cocktail optional.
Black Orpheus – Marcel Camus directed this mesmerizing 1959 film, a modern spin on a classic Greek myth. Fueled by the pulsing rhythms of Rio’s Carnaval and tempered by the gentle sway of Luiz Bonfa and Antonio Carlos Jobim’s samba soundtrack, Black Orpheus fully engages the senses. Camus and Jacques Viot adapted the screenplay from the play by Vinicius de Moraes.
Handsome tram operator Orfeo (Breno Mello) is engaged to vivacious Mira (Lourdes de Olivera) but gets hit by the thunderbolt when he meets sweet, innocent Eurydice (Marpessa Dawn). As in most romantic triangles, things get complicated, especially when Mr. Death (Ademar da Silva) starts lurking about the place.
You may be scratching your head as to why I’m “comforted” by a story based on a Greek tragedy; but Black Orpheus is graced by one of the most beautiful, life-affirming denouements in cinema; which always assures me that everything is going to be alright.
The Dish – This 2000 Australian sleeper dramatizes the story behind the live televised images of Neil Armstrong setting foot on the moon in 1969. The worldwide broadcast was facilitated by a tracking station located on a sheep farm in New South Wales.
Quirky characters abound in Rob Sitch’s culture-clash comedy (reminiscent of Bill Forsyth’s Local Hero). It’s not all played for yucks; the re-enactment of the telecast is genuinely stirring. Sam Neill heads a fine cast. Director Sitch and co-writers Santo Cilauro, Tom Gleisner, and Jane Kennedy also collaborated on the charming 1997 dramedy The Castle (recommended!).
Diva – Jean-Jacques Beineix’s 1981 cult fave kicked off a sub-genre labelled Cinéma du look (e.g. Beineix’s Betty Blue, and Luc Besson’s Subway, La Femme Nikita, and Leon the Professional).
Our unlikely antihero is mild-mannered postman Jules (Frédéric Andréi), a 20-something opera fan obsessed with a Garbo-like diva (American soprano Wilhelmenia Wiggins Fernandez). She has never recorded a studio album and stipulates that her live performances are never to be taped and/or reproduced in any medium.
An enraptured Jules attends one of her concerts and makes a high-quality recording, for his own edification. By pure chance, a pair of nefarious underworld characters witness Jules bootlegging the concert, sparking a chain of events that turns his life upside down.
Diva is an entertaining pop-art mélange of neo-noir, action-thriller, and comic-book fantasy. Chockablock with quirky characters, from a pair of hipster hit men (Gérard Darmon and Dominique Pinon) to a Zen-like international man of mystery named Gorodish (Richard Bohringer) who is currently “going through his cool period” as his girlfriend (Thuy Ann Luu) confides to Jules. Slick, stylish and thoroughly engaging.
A Hard Day’s Night – This 1964 masterpiece has been often copied, but never equaled. Shot in a semi-documentary style, the film follows a “day in the life” of John, Paul, George and Ringo at the height of their youthful exuberance and charismatic powers. Thanks to the wonderfully inventive direction of Richard Lester and Alun Owen’s clever script, the essence of what made the Beatles “the Beatles” has been captured for posterity.
Although it’s meticulously constructed, Lester’s film has an improvisational feel; and feels as fresh and innovative as when it first hit theaters all those years ago. I still catch subtle gags that surprise me (like John snorting the Coke bottle). Music highlights: “I Should Have Known Better”, “All My Loving”, “Don’t Bother Me”, “Can’t Buy Me Love”, and the fab title song.
Harold and Maude – Harold loves Maude. And Maude loves Harold. It’s a match made in heaven-if only society would agree. Because Harold (Bud Cort) is a teenager, and Maude (Ruth Gordon) is just shy of 80. Falling in love with a woman old enough to be his great-grandmother is the least of Harold’s quirks. He’s a chronically depressed trustafarian who amuses himself by staging fake suicides to freak out his patrician mother (wonderfully droll Vivian Pickles). He also “enjoys” funerals-which is where Harold and Maude Meet Cute.
The effervescent Maude is Harold’s polar opposite; while he wallows in morbid speculation how any day could be your last, she seizes each day as if it actually were. Obviously, she has something to teach him. Despite dark undertones, this is one “midnight movie” that manages to be life-affirming. Hal Ashby directed, and Colin Higgins (who would later write and direct Foul Play and 9 to 5) wrote the screenplay. Outstanding soundtrack by Cat Stevens.
Local Hero – This low-key, observant 1983 social satire from Scottish writer-director Bill Forsyth stars Peter Reigert as Macintyre, a Texas-based executive who is assigned by the head of “Knox Oil & Gas” (Burt Lancaster) to scope out a sleepy Scottish hamlet that sits on an oil-rich bay. He is to negotiate with local property owners and essentially buy out the town so that the company can build a huge refinery.
While he considers himself “more of a Telex man”, who would prefer to knock out such an assignment “in an afternoon”, Mac sees the overseas trip as a possible fast track for a promotion within the corporation. As this quintessential 80s Yuppie works to ingratiate himself with the unhurried locals, a “fish out of water” transformation ensues. It’s the kindest and gentlest Ugly American tale you’ll ever see.
Man on the Train – There are a only a handful of films I have become emotionally attached to, usually for reasons I can’t completely fathom. This 2002 drama is one of them. Best described as an “existential noir”, Patrice LeConte’s relatively simple tale of two men in their twilight years with disparate life paths (a retired poetry teacher and a career felon) forming an unexpected deep bond turns into a transcendent film experience. French pop star Johnny Hallyday and screen veteran Jean Rochefort deliver mesmerizing performances. I feel an urge to watch it right now.
My Neighbor Totoro – While this 1988 film was anime master’s Hayao Miyazaki’s fourth feature, it was one of his (and Studio Ghibli’s) first international hits.
It’s a lovely tale about a young professor and his two daughters settling into their new country house while Mom convalesces at a nearby hospital. The rambunctious 4 year-old goes exploring and stumbles into the verdant court of a “king” nestled within the roots of a gargantuan camphor tree. This king rules with a gentle hand; a benign forest spirit named Totoro (an amalgam of every plush toy you ever cuddled with as a child).
Granted, it’s Miyazaki’s most simplistic and kid-friendly tale…but that’s not a put down. Miyazaki’s usual themes remain intact; the animation is breathtaking, the fantasy elements magical, yet the human characters are down-to-earth and universally relatable. A charmer.
Sherman’s March – Filmmaker Ross McElwee is one of America’s hidden treasures. McElwee, a genteel Southern neurotic (Woody Allen meets Tennessee Williams) has been compulsively documenting his personal life since the mid 70’s and managed to turn the footage into some of the most hilarious, moving and thought-provoking films most people have never seen.
Audiences weaned on “reality TV” may wonder “what’s the big deal about one more schmuck making glorified home movies?” but they would be missing an enriching glimpse into the human condition. Sherman’s March began as a project to retrace the Union general’s path of destruction through the South, but ended up as rumination on the eternal human quest for love and acceptance, filtered through McElwee’s search for the perfect mate.
Despite its 3 hour length, I’ve found myself returning to this film for repeat viewings, and enjoying it just as much as the first time. The unofficial “sequel”, Time Indefinite, is also worth a peek.
The Thin Man – W.S. Van Dyke’s delightful mix of screwball comedy and murder mystery (adapted from Dashiell Hammett’s novel by Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich) never gets old for me. Story takes a backseat to the repartee between private investigator (and perpetually tipsy socialite) Nick Charles (William Powell) and his wisecracking wife Nora (sexy Myrna Loy). Top it off with a scene-stealing wire fox terrier (Asta!) and you’ve got a winning formula that has spawned countless imitations; particularly a bevy of sleuthing TV couples (Hart to Hart, McMillan and Wife, Moonlighting, Remington Steele, et.al.).
True Stories – Musician/raconteur David Byrne enters the Lone Star state of mind with his subtly satirical Texas travelogue from 1986. Not easy to pigeonhole; part social satire, long-form music video, and mockumentary. The vignettes about the quirky but generally likable inhabitants of sleepy Virgil, Texas should hold your fascination once you buy into “tour-guide” Byrne’s bemused anthropological detachment. Among the town’s residents: John Goodman, “Pops” Staples, Swoosie Kurtz and the late Spalding Gray. The outstanding cinematography is by Edward Lachman. Byrne’s fellow Heads have cameos performing “Wild Wild Life”.
Wings of Desire – I’ve never attempted to compile a Top 10 list of my all-time favorite films (I’ve just seen too many damn movies…I’d be staring at an empty page for weeks, if my head didn’t explode first) but I’m certain Wim Wenders’ 1987 stunner would be a shoo-in. Now, attempting to describe this film is something else altogether.
If I told you it’s about an angel (Bruno Ganz) who hovers over Berlin in a trench coat, monitoring people’s thoughts and taking notes, who spots a beautiful trapeze artist (Solveig Dommartin) and follows her home, wallows in her deepest longings, watches her undress, then falls in love and decides to chuck the mantle of immortality and become human…you’d probably say “That sounds like a story about a creepy stalker.” And if I told you it features Peter Falk, playing himself, you’d laugh nervously and say, “Oh, look at the time.” Of course, there is more to it-about life, the universe, and everything.
BONUS!
If you really want to go all out for movie night (which is pretty much every night for me), you have to watch a cartoon before the movie, right? Here’s my 2011 review of a Blu-ray box set always guaranteed to lift your spirits. Keep it handy, right next to the first aid kit.
The Looney Tunes Platinum Collection, Vol. 1– During those long, dark nights of my soul, when all seems hopeless and futile, there’s one thought that never fails to bring me back to the light. It’s that feeling that somewhere, out there in the ether, there’s a frog, with a top hat and a cane, waiting for his chance to pop out of a box and sing:
Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my ragtime gal
Send me a kiss by wire, baby my heart’s on fire…
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, just go ahead and skip to the next review now.
The rest of you might want to check out this fabulous 3-disc collection, which features 50 classic animated shorts (and 18 rarities) from the Warner Brothers vaults. Deep catalog Looney Tunes geeks may quibble until the cows come home about what’s not here (Warner has previously released six similar DVD collections in standard definition), but for the casual fans (like yours truly) there is plenty to please. I’m just happy to have “One Froggy Evening”, “I Love to Singa”, “Rabbit of Seville”, “Duck Amuck”, “Leghorn Lovelorn”, “Three Little Bops” and “What’s Opera Doc?” in one place. The selections cover all eras, from the 1940s onward.
One thing that does become clear, as you watch these restored gems in gorgeous hi-def (especially those from the pre-TV era) is that these are not “cartoons”, they are 7 ½ minute films, every bit as artful as anything else cinema has to offer. Extras include a trio of excellent documentaries about the studio’s star director, the legendary Chuck Jones. The real diamond among the rarities is The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics (directed by Jones for MGM), which won the 1965 Oscar for Best Animated Short Film.
For those of us of “a certain age”, that is to say, old enough to have actually witnessed the moon landing live on TV… the fact that “we” were even able to achieve this feat “by the end of the decade” (as President Kennedy projected in 1961) still feels like a pretty big deal to me.
Of course, there are still big unanswered questions out there about Life, the Universe, and Everything, but I’ll leave that to future generations. I feel that I’ve done my part…spending my formative years plunked in front of a B&W TV in my PJs eating Sugar Smacks and watching Walter Cronkite reporting live from the Cape.
Those particular memories resurfaced recently as I watched Richard Linklater’s charming 2022 animated memoir Apollo 10 1/2: A Space Age Childhood, which I stumbled across on Netflix:
Of course, 10 year-old Linklater didn’t land on the moon and return safely to the Earth just ahead of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin; that’s the fantasy part of his tale. It was the earthbound elements of his narrative that triggered an emotional sense memory of being a kid again, living in suburbia in 1969 (and watching the moon landing on a boxy black and white television set). I guess what I’m trying to say is that I was imprinted at an early age by the comforting visage of Walter Cronkite delivering the nightly news, long before I could intellectualize what “journalistic integrity” meant-or how important it was.
While Cronkite’s name is synonymous with “CBS news”, he was just part of a pantheon that includes Edward R. Murrow, Douglas Edwards, Mike Wallace, Dan Rather, Eric Sevareid, Harry Reasoner, Katie Couric, Connie Chung, Morley Safer, Marlene Sanders, et. al. For decades, CBS News was held in the highest regard; a trusted and reliable source for both straight-up reporting and hard-hitting investigative journalism.
You may have noticed by now that I am speaking in the past tense:
As part of a promotional rollout ahead of taking up the legendary CBS Evening News anchor chair, Tony Dokoupil posted a video message this week where he claimed that legacy media has ignored the views of the “average American.”
Meanwhile, CBS News’ editor-in-chief Bari Weiss is scoping out a private jet and a troop of armed guards to facilitate her participation in a multi-million dollar tour of the country.
The co-host of CBS Mornings since 2019, Dokoupil was officially named the new face of CBS Evening News last month, replacing the short-lived co-anchor team of John Dickerson and Maurice DuBois. His tenure is set to begin Monday. Dokoupil’s promotion came after Weiss failed to poach a big name from another network to headline the ratings-challenged nightly news program.
In an effort to make a splash and gain some publicity for his debut, the network is sending Dokoupil out on a 10-city “Live From America” cross-country kickoff tour during his first two weeks in the chair. Throughout his swing through the nation, CBS Evening News will broadcast from cities such as Miami, Dallas, Detroit, Cincinnati before wrapping things up in Pittsburgh.
According to three sources with knowledge of the matter, Weiss is planning on chartering a private plane to fly to each location for the “Live From America” tour this month. Besides taking Dokoupil and CBS Evening News executive producer Kim Harvey on the flights, Weiss’ personal security detail of five armed bodyguards will also be on board.
The increased involvement from Weiss on the CBS Evening News reboot in recent days has raised eyebrows over her desire to be on location for each telecast.
That potential additional expense comes after the news network laid off roughly 100 employees and is preparing for more crippling cost cuts from owner David Ellison and Paramount. It also seems to fly in the face of Dokoupil’s anti-elite mission statement for the show, according to sources who spoke to The Independent.
“Nothing says ‘meeting Americans where they are’ by flying around the country on a private jet costing millions of dollars,” one network staffer said. […]
This latest flareup within CBS News comes less than two weeks after Weiss came under fire for the 11th-hour spike of a 60 Minutes story that was critical of President Donald Trump’s administration, sparking a possible “revolt” among the show’s staff.
Since her arrival at the network three months ago, the self-described “radical centrist” – with minimal broadcast news experience – Weiss has drawn criticism from staff and media observers alike over many of her editorial decisions, which many have claimed is part of the new corporate ownership’s efforts to push CBS News in a “MAGA-friendly” direction.
Uncle Walter is spinning. Frankly, I’m glad he’s not here to see social media posts like this:
Or this…
Weasel words? I guess they’ll get back to us on that. There’s more:
…and finally [cue the fife and drum corps]…
Oh, I think I know where we are going here.
And that’s the way it is. All that in mind, I thought I would re-post this piece. Courage.
Breaking News: 10 Docs for World Press Freedom Day
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 3, 2025)
This just in: Today is World Press Freedom Day. Say what? (via the United Nations website)
World Press Freedom Day was proclaimed by the UN General Assembly in December 1993, following the recommendation of UNESCO’s General Conference. Since then, 3 May, the anniversary of the Declaration of Windhoek is celebrated worldwide as World Press Freedom Day.
After 30 years, the historic connection made between the freedom to seek, impart and receive information and the public good remains as relevant as it was at the time of its signing. Special commemorations of the 30th anniversary are planned to take place during World Press Freedom Day International Conference.
May 3 acts as a reminder to governments of the need to respect their commitment to press freedom. It is also a day of reflection among media professionals about issues of press freedom and professional ethics. It is an opportunity to:
celebrate the fundamental principles of press freedom;
assess the state of press freedom throughout the world;
defend the media from attacks on their independence;
and pay tribute to journalists who have lost their lives in the line of duty.
If you’re a regular reader around these parts, I’m sure you’d concur that it couldn’t come a day too soon. Via Amnesty International:
Around the world, journalists are being silenced, jailed, and disappeared—simply for doing their jobs. From Guatemala to Hong Kong, Russia to Tunisia, governments are increasingly weaponizing vague laws, judicial systems, and the use of force to suppress the truth.
These attacks on the press are not isolated incidents; they are deliberate strategies to dismantle the very foundations of human rights. The erosion of press freedom is a warning sign—one that signals a broader slide toward authoritarian practices, including in the United States, where attacks against the media grow more hostile by the day. […]
President Trump is attacking the freedom of the press, including hand-picking which outlets can cover the White House and demonizing reporters. Before becoming president, he sued media outlets CBS News and the Des Moines Register for publishing something he didn’t agree with. He’s barred the AP from covering events at the White House because he disagreed with an editorial decision to use “Gulf of Mexico” instead of “Gulf of America.” He’s called on outlets to fire specific reporters for coverage that doesn’t paint him in the light he wants and has quipped that he’d jail reporters opens in a new tab as retribution for unfavorable coverage. In addition to dismantling Voice of America, he’s supported slashing funding for outlets like NPR and PBS.
What’s more, while President Trump is attacking freedom of the press and journalistic integrity, social media companies, including Meta and Elon Musk’s X, have been granted unprecedented access to the White House, have dismantled fact-checking programs on their platforms, contributing to the spread of disinformation, especially with such a high percentage of Americans getting their news from social media platforms.
To scrutinize and ultimately hold political leaders accountable, the press must have the freedom to report independent news without being blocked from access, punished, or intimidated. The government must respect and protect free and independent media and maximize transparency and access to information.
We are only 100 days into the new administration…so please join me in raising a glass to intrepid journalists everywhere who continue to speak truth to power, and do what you can to support their work. And for your perusal, I’ve combed my review archives and selected 10 documentaries that embody the spirit of World Press Freedom Day:
#Chicago Girl: The Social Network Takes on a Dictator – Not long ago, the MSM relegated social media to kickers about flash mobs, or grandpa’s first tweet. Then, the Arab Spring happened, precipitating the rise of the citizen journalist. Case in point: 19 year-old Ala’a Basatneh, subject of Joe Piscatella’s doc. The Damascus-born Chicagoan is a key player in the Syrian revolution, as in “key stroke”. It’s not just about Ala’a, but her compatriots in Syria, some who’ve made the ultimate sacrifice. Timely and moving. (Available on Google Play)
Cartoonists: Foot Soldiers of Democracy? – French filmmaker Stephanie Valloatto’s globetrotting documentary profiles a dozen men and women who make their living drawing funny pictures about current events. I know what you’re thinking…beats digging ditches, right? Well, that depends. Some of these political cartoonists ply their trade under regimes that could be digging a “special” ditch, reserved just for them (if you know what I’m saying).
The film can be confusing; in her attempt to give all 12 subjects equal face time, Valloatto’s frequent cross-cutting can make you lose track of which country you’re in (it’s mostly interior shots). That aside, she gets to the heart of what democracy is all about: speaking truth to power. It’s also timely; in one scene, an interviewee says, “Like a schoolchild, I told myself: I shouldn’t draw Muhammad.” Then, holding up a sketch of you-know-who, he concludes: “Drawing is the correct answer to the forbidden.”
Forbidden Voices – Swiss director Barbara Miller’s excellent doc profiles three influential “cyber-feminists” who bravely soldier on in the blogosphere whilst running a daily gauntlet of intimidation from their respective governments, including (but not limited to) overt surveillance, petty legal harassment and even physical beatings. Despite the odds, Yoani Sanchez (Cuba), Farnez Seifi (Iran, currently exiled in Germany) and Zeng Jinyan (China) are affecting change (if only baby steps). (Available on kanopy)
Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson – Director Alex Gibney takes an approach as scattershot and unpredictable as his subject; using a frenetic pastiche of talking heads, vintage home movies, film clips, animation, audio tapes and snippets of prose (voiced by Johnny Depp, who has become to Thompson what Hal Holbrook is to Mark Twain). This is not a hagiography; several ex-wives and associates make no bones about reminding us that the man could be a real asshole. On the other hand, examples of his genuine humanity and idealism are brought to the fore as well, making for an insightful and fairly balanced overview of this “Dr. Gonzo and Mr. Thompson” dichotomy. What the director does not forget is that, at the end of the day, HST was the most unique American political commentator/ social observer who ever sat down to peck at a bullet-riddled typewriter. (Full review) (Available on various streaming platforms)
Hacking Hate – Move over, Lisbeth Salandar…there’s a new hacker in town, and she’s stirring up a hornet’s nest of wingnuts. Simon Klose’s timely documentary follows award-winning Swedish journalist My Vingren as she meticulously constructs a fake online profile, posing as a male white supremacist. Her goal is to smoke out a possible key influencer and glean how he and others fit into right-wing extremist recruiting.
Vingren is like a one-woman Interpol; her investigation soon points her to U.S.-based extremist networks as well, leading her to consult with whistle-blower Anika Collier Navaroli (the former Twitter employee who was instrumental in getting Trump booted off the platform) and Imrab Ahmed (another one of Elon Musk’s least-favorite people, he was sued by the X CEO for exposing the rampant hate speech on the platform).
This isn’t a video game; considering the inherently belligerent nature of the extremist culture she is exposing, Vingren is taking considerable personal risk in this type of investigative journalism (she’s much braver than I am). Especially chilling is the shadowy figure at the center of her investigation, who is like a character taken straight out of a Frederick Forsyth novel.
Hugh Hefner: Playboy, Activist, and Rebel – Did you know Ray Bradbury was only paid $400 for the original serialized version of Fahrenheit 451 published in Playboy in 1954? That’s one of the interesting tidbits I picked up from this lengthy yet absorbing documentary about the iconoclastic founder and publisher of the magazine that I, personally, have always read strictly for the articles (of clothing that were conspicuously absent-no, I’m kidding). Seriously-there’s little of prurient interest here. In a manner of speaking, it’s mostly about “the articles”.
Brigitte Berman (director of the excellent 1985 documentary Artie Shaw: Time is All You’ve Got) interweaves well-selected archival footage and present day interviews with Hefner and friends (as well as some of his detractors) to paint a fascinating portrait. Whether you admire him or revile him, as you watch the film you come to realize that there is probably no other public figure of the past 50 years who has so cannily tapped in to or (perhaps arguably) so directly influenced the sexual, social, political and pop-cultural zeitgeist of liberated free-thinkers everywhere.
I Am Not Your Negro – The late writer and social observer James Baldwin once said that “Whatever white people do not know about Negroes reveals, precisely and inexorably, what they do not know about themselves.” Sadly, thanks to the emboldening of certain elements within American society that have been drawn from the shadows by the openly racist rhetoric spouted by the Current Occupant of the White House, truer words have never been spoken.
Indeed, anyone who watches Raoul Peck’s documentary will recognize not only the beauty of Baldwin’s prose, but the prescience of such observations. Both are on display in Peck’s timely treatise on race relations in America, in which he mixes archival news footage, movie clips, and excerpts from Baldwin’s TV appearances with narration by an uncharacteristically subdued Samuel L. Jackson, reading excerpts from Baldwin’s unfinished book, Remember This House. An excellent and enlightening film. (Full review) (Available on various streaming platforms)
Like a Rolling Stone: The Life and Times of Ben Fong-Torres – Nothing against Ben Fong-Torres, but I approached this film with trepidation. “Please, god,” I thought to myself, “Don’t let ‘Fortunate Son’ be on the soundtrack.” Thankfully, there’s credence, but no Creedence in Suzanne Joe Kai’s documentary, which despite the implications of its title is not another wallow in the era when being on the cover of the Rolling Stone mattered, man.
OK, there is some of that; after all, journalist and author Ben Fong-Torres’ venerable career began when he first wrote for Rolling Stone in 1968. By the following year he was hired as the editor and wrote many of the cover stories. Fong-Torres quickly showed himself to be not only an excellent interviewer, but a gifted writer. His journalistic approach was the antithesis to the gonzo stylists like Lester Bangs and Hunter Thompson in that his pieces were never about him, yet still eminently personal and relatable.
Just like her subject, Kai’s portrait is multi-faceted, revealing aspects of Fong-Torres’ life outside of his profession I was not aware of (like his activism in the Asian-American community, and how it was borne of a heartbreaking family tragedy). (Available on Netflix and Prime Video)
Raise Hell: The Life and Times of Molly Ivins – Janice Engel profiles the late, great political columnist and liberal icon Molly Ivins, who suffered no fools gladly on either side of the aisle. Engel digs beneath Ivins’ bigger-than-life public personae, revealing an individual who grew up in red state Texas as a shy outsider.
Self-conscious about her physicality (towering over her classmates at 6 feet by age 12), she learned how to neutralize the inevitable teasing with her fierce intelligence and wit (I find interesting parallels with Janis Joplin’s formative Texas years). Her political awakening also came early (to the chagrin of her conservative oilman father).
The archival clips of Ivins imparting her incomparable wit and wisdom are gold; although I was left wishing Engel had included more (and I am dying to know what Ivins would say about you-know-who). (Available on various streaming platforms)
Rather – Few journalists have had such a long and storied career as Dan Rather; long enough for several generations to claim their own reference point. At the risk of eliciting an eye-rolling “OK Boomer” from some quarters, mine is “I think we’re dealing with a bunch of thugs here, Dan!” (others of “a certain age” will recall that as Walter Cronkite’s reaction to watching his colleague getting roughed up by security on live TV while reporting from the floor of the 1968 Democratic National Convention). For Gen Xers, he’s the inspiration for R.E.M.’s “What’s the Frequency Kenneth?”, which is what a pair of assailants repeatedly asked Rather during a 1986 attack in New York. To Millennials, he’s a wry and wise nonagenarian with over 2 million Twitter followers.
As evidenced in Frank Marshall’s documentary, the secret to Rather’s longevity may be his ability to take a punch (literally or figuratively) and get right up with integrity intact. All the career highlights are checked, from Rather’s early days as a reporter in Dallas (where he came to national prominence covering the JFK assassination) to overseas reporting for CBS from the mid-to-late 60s (most notably in Vietnam), to taking over the coveted CBS Evening News anchor chair vacated by Cronkite in 1981, and onward. An inspiring warts-and-all portrait of a dogged truth-teller who is truly a national treasure. (Available on Netflix and Prime Video)
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 27, 2025)
All is quiet, on New Year’s Day. Except for this mixtape (you may adjust your volume per hangover conditions New Year’s morning). Cheers!
“This Will Be Our Year” – The Zombies – Starting on a positive note. Lovely Beatle-esque number from the Odyssey and Oracle album.
You don’t have to worry All your worried days are gone This will be our year Took a long time to come
At least…we can always hope, right?
“Time” – David Bowie – A song as timeless as Bowie himself. Time, he’s waiting in the wings/He speaks of senseless things…
“New Year” – Beach House – Could be…who knows? A lovely slice of dream pop from this Baltimore trio to usher in the new year.
Can you call it? See it coming? Just enough to tell a story ’bout a Portrait of a young girl waiting For the ending of an era
“1999″ – Prince – Sadly, it’s a perennial question: “Mommy…why does everybody have a bomb?”
“1921” – The Who – Got a feeling ’21 is gonna be a good year. OK, back to the drawing board …let’s make ’26 a better one.
“Time” – Oscar Brown, Jr. – A wise and soulful gem…tick, tock.
“New Year’s Day” – U2 – I know… “Edgy pick, Captain Obvious!” But it’s still a great song.
“The New Year” – Death Cab for Cutie – Did you ever wake up on January 1st, look around, shrug, and think to yourself “So this is the new year?” This one’s for you.
So this is the new year And I have no resolutions Or self assigned penance For problems with easy solutions
“Year of the Cat” – Al Stewart – Old Grey Whistle Test clip. Strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre, contemplating a crime…
“Reeling in the Years” – Steely Dan – Taking inventory with a classic, featuring a killer solo by Elliot Randall.
Encore! Fantastic live version from 2002. Randall and the backup band are on fire.
“New Year’s Resolution” – Otis Redding & Carla Thomas – Ace Stax B-side from 1968, with that unmistakable “Memphis sound”. Speaking of which… check out my review of the Stax music doc, Take Me to the River.
“Same Old Lang Syne” – Dan Fogelberg – OK, a nod to those who insist on waxing sentimental. A beautiful tune from the late singer-songwriter.
Bonus track!
Not a “New Year’s song” per se, but an evergreen new year’s wish.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 20, 2025)
I’m guessing you’ve already had it up to “here” with holly jolly Burl Ives and Rudolph with his frigging red nose so bright wafting out of every elevator in sight. Christmas comes but once a year; this too shall soon pass. I promise I won’t torture you with the obvious and overplayed. Rather, I have curated 20 selections that aren’t flogged to death every year; some deeper cuts (and a few novelty items) for your Xmas creel.
Happy Crimble, and a Very New Year!
Alan Parsons in a Winter Wonderland – Grandaddy
The stockings are hung with irony in this California-based indie band’s rendition.
Gone away
Is the blue bird
Here to stay
Is the new bird
He records a love song
The production’s right on
Alan Parsons in a winter wonderland
All I Want For Christmas – The Bobs
The Bobs have been stalking me. They formed in the early 80s, in San Francisco. I was living in San Francisco in the early 80s; I recall catching them as an opening act for The Plimsouls (I think…or maybe Greg Kihn) at The Keystone in Berkeley. I remember having my mind blown by a cappella renditions of “Psycho Killer” and “Helter Skelter”. Later, I resettled in Seattle. Later, they resettled in Seattle. I wish they’d quit following me! This is a lovely number from their 1996 album Too Many Santas.
Ave Maria – Stevie Wonder
There are songs that you do not tackle if you don’t have the pipes (unless you want to be jeered offstage, or out of the ball park). “The Star Spangled Banner” comes to mind; as does “Nessun dorma”. “Ave Maria” is right up there too. Not only does Stevie nail the vocal, but he whips out the most sublime harmonica solo this side of Toots Thielemans.
Blue Xmas – Bob Dorough w/ the Miles Davis Sextet
The hippest “Bah, humbug!” of all time. “Gimme gimme gimme…”
A Christmas Song– Jethro Tull
Ian Anderson decries all the crass commercialization; gets drunk with Santa. “Psst…Hey, Santa. Pass us that bottle, will ya?”
Christmas at the Airport – Nick Lowe
Wry and tuneful as ever, veteran pub-rocker/power-popper/balladeer Nick Lowe continues to compose, produce, record and tour. This is from his 2013 Christmas album, Quality Street. I think a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nomination is overdue.
Christmas in Suburbia – The Cleaners From Venus
Despite the fact that he writes hook-laden, Beatlesque pop gems in his sleep, and has been doing so for five decades, endearingly eccentric singer-musician-songwriter-poet Martin Newell (Cleaners From Venus, Brotherhood of Lizards) remains a selfishly-guarded secret by cultish admirers (of which I am one). But since it is the holidays, I’m feeling magnanimous-so I will share him with you now (you’re welcome).
Christmas Wish – NRBQ
NRBQ has been toiling in relative obscurity since 1966, despite nearly 50 albums and a rep for crowd-pleasing live shows. I think they’ve fallen through the cracks because they are tough to pigeonhole; they’re equally at home with power-pop, blues, rock, jazz, R&B, country or goofy covers. This is from their eponymous 2007 album.
I Am Santa Claus – Bob Rivers
Funniest Christmas parody song ever, by the “Twisted Tunes” gang.
I Yust Go Nuts at Christmas – Yogi Yorgesson
I first heard this tune about the “joys” of holiday gatherings on “The Dr. Demento Show” . It always puts me in hysterics, especially: “My mouth tastes like a pickle.”
Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring – Leo Kottke
In 1969, an LP entitled 6- and 12-String Guitar quietly slid into record stores. The cover had a painting of an armadillo, with “Leo Kottke” emblazoned above. In the 50+ years since, “the armadillo album” has become a touchstone for aspiring guitarists, introducing the world to a gifted player with a unique and expressive finger picking technique. Kottke’s lovely take on a Bach classic is a highlight.
River – Joni Mitchell
Not a jolly “laughing all the way” singalong; but this is my list, and I’m sticking to it. Besides, Joni opens with a “Jingle Bells” piano quote, and the lyrics are stuffed with Christmas references. Oft-covered, but it doesn’t make a lot of holiday playlists.
Santa – Lightnin’ Hopkins
Best Christmas blues ever, by the poet laureate of the Delta.
Now, I happened to see these old people learning the young ones, Yeah just learning them exactly what to do. So sweet, it’s so sweet to see these old people, Learning they old children just what to do. Mother said a million-year-ago Santa Claus come to me, Now this year he gone come to you.
My little sister said take your stocking now, Hang it up on the head of the bed. Talkin’ to her friend she said take your stocking, And please hang it up on head of the bed. And she said know we all God’s saint children, In the morning Ol’ Santa Claus gone see that we all is fed.
Sleigh Ride– The Ventures
I’ve never personally seen anyone “hang ten” in Puget Sound; nonetheless, one of the greatest surf bands ever hails from Tacoma. This jaunty mashup of a Christmas classic with “Walk, Don’t Run” sports tasty fretwork by Nokie Edwards and Don Wilson.
Sometimes You Have to Work on Christmas – Harvey Danger
Ho-ho-ho, here’s your %&#!@ change. We’ve all been there at one time or another. I have a soft spot for this music video (It’s a Wonderful Life meets Clerks) because it features one of my favorite neighborhood theaters here in Seattle-The Grand Illusion.
Stoned Soul Christmas – Binky Griptite
“Man, what’s the matter with you…don’t you know it’s Christmas?!” A funky sleigh ride down to the stoned soul Christmas with guitarist/DJ Binky Griptite (formerly of The Dap Kings). A clever reworking of Laura Nyro’s “Stoned Soul Picnic.” Nice.
2000 Miles – The Pretenders
A lovely live chamber pop rendition, and Chrissie’s vocals are sublime.
We Wish You a Merry Christmas– Jacob Miller (w/ Ray I)
An ire, ire, ire Xmas wish from the late great Inner Circle front man.
A Winter’s Tale – Jade Warrior
Not a Christmas song per se, but it certainly evokes a cozy holiday scenario:
Ivy tapping on my window, wine and candle glow, Skies that promise snow have gathered overhead. Buttered toast and creamy coffee, table laid for two, Lovely having you to share a smile with me.
A beautiful track from an underappreciated UK prog-rock band.
‘Zat You, Santa Claus? – Louis Armstrong
The great jazz growler queries a night prowler who may or may not be the jolly old elf.
Bonus track!
What begins as a performance of “Everlong” turns into a rousing Christmas medley in this 2017 performance by the Foo Fighters on Saturday Night Live. Good grief!
UPDATE 12/22/25: I was captivated by Chris Rea’s distinctive pipes the first time I played “Fool If You Think It’s Over” on my afternoon drive radio shift in 1978 and I’ve been a fan ever since. Sad to hear of his passing today. Equally at home with well-crafted pop, rock, and blues (and a tasty guitar player), he was a prolific artist who belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. R.I.P.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 15, 2025)
He may be rude, but he speaks for me:
As a young kid whose parents didn’t care what I watched, I loved All in the Family. And I didn’t see Rob Reiner’s Michael Stivic as Archie Bunker did, as “Meathead.” I was inspired by Michael’s passion and activism. I wanted to be like him because it pissed off the Archie Bunkers.
Not unlike the rude fella, I was first exposed to All in the Family at an impressionable age; I was 14 years old when it premiered in 1971. I may not have fully grasped all the sociopolitical undercurrents running through Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin’s groundbreaking sitcom (which went on to run for 9 seasons and achieve “classic” status) but I instinctively glomed onto Michael Stivic as my hero.
The funny thing about actors is, they act for a living. More often than not, the character you see on the screen doesn’t necessarily reflect the person portraying that character (“never meet your idols”, and all that). However, as it turned out, “Michael Stivic” was largely simpatico with the actor portraying him, Rob Reiner. I’m referring to the “passion and activism” mentioned at the top of my post:
In a world where fewer and fewer people concern themselves with the plight of others, the loss of Rob Reiner, who cared deeply about humanitarian causes, feels that much more devastating. RIP: 1947-1925.[Selfie: July 2022, NYC]
Two of Reiner’s biggest political contributions were his work in defending marriage equality and establishing critical child development programs.
Reiner co-founded the American Foundation for Equal Rights in 2008 to help fight against California’s Proposition 8, which banned same-sex marriage in the state.
Reiner helped spark the court challenge of Prop 8, leading to a 2010 trial that preceded the Supreme Court’s landmark 2015 ruling in Obergefell v. Hodges, which legalized same-sex marriage at the federal level.
While speaking about the importance of his fight against Prop 8, Reiner invoked the civil rights case Brown v. Board of Education.
“We don’t believe in separate but equal in any other legal position except this,” Reiner said in 2011, referring to same-sex marriage. “We feel that this is the last piece of the civil rights puzzle being put into place.” […]
His work extended beyond LGBTQ+ rights; Reiner was also a fierce advocate for children. In 1998, Reiner led the campaign to pass California’s Proposition 10. The initiative formed First 5 California, a collection of childhood development services in the state funded by a tobacco tax. Reiner served as the organization’s first chair for seven years, from 1999 to 2006.
“Nobody did more to create universal preschool in California,” political consultant Roy Behr, who worked with Reiner on the campaign to pass Prop 10, told PEOPLE. “Literally tens of thousands (maybe even hundreds of thousands) of kids got access to preschool entirely because of him.”
Reiner also proposed California’s Proposition 82 in 2006, which would have raised taxes on the wealthiest residents in order to fund free preschool for all 4-year-olds in the state. The proposition failed to pass, though his suggestion to tax the rich as a means for expanding government services has became a popular element of the progressive platform in recent years.
Just another one of those Hollywood lefty busybodies.
His acting credits are numerous. Previous to All in the Family, his appearances include Enter Laughing (his 1967 acting debut, and father Carl’s directorial debut), and the 1970 cult comedy classic Where’s Poppa (another Carl Reiner film). He appeared (uncredited) in Steve Martin’s 1979 comedy The Jerk, and had memorable supporting roles in Throw Momma From the Train, Postcards From theEdge, Sleepless in Seattle, Bullets Over Broadway, and Primary Colors.
He also directed a film or two you may have heard of. He was on a roll in the 80s, delivering five exceptional films in a row: This is Spinal Tap, The Sure Thing, Stand by Me, The Princess Bride and When Harry Met Sally. His streak waned a bit in the 90s, nonetheless that decade yielded three more gems: Misery, A Few Good Men, and The American President.
Reiner co-founded Castle Rock Entertainment in 1987, an independent television and film production company. In addition to a number of Reiner’s own films, the company’s canon includes City Slickers, Year of the Comet, In the Line of Fire, Barcelona, The Shawshank Redemption, Before Sunrise, Lone Star, Waiting for Guffman, The Last Days of Disco, The Green Mile, Best in Show, Before Sunset, The Salton Sea (a 2002 neo-noir that needs more love) and Michael Clayton.
Glancing at his filmography, I have some catching up to do; with the exception of his wonderful 2023 documentary Albert Brooks: Defending My Life, I’ve somehow missed his entire output since 1996’s Ghosts of Mississippi. As fate would have it, his final directorial project, Spinal Tap II: The End Continues is currently sitting in my DVR, waiting to be watched (it just dropped on HBO/MAX this week).
Speaking of “the Tap”, my favorite Rob Reiner joint will forever and always be his 1984 directorial debut, This is Spinal Tap.
Reiner co-wrote this mockumentary with Christopher Guest, Harry Shearer and Michael McKean, who play Spinal Tap founders Nigel Tufnel (lead guitar), Derek Smalls (bass) and David St. Hubbins (lead vocals and guitar), respectively (several actors portray the band’s revolving door of drummers, who tend to meet untimely ends such as spontaneous combustion, “a bizarre gardening accident”, and perhaps most famously, choking on “somebody else’s vomit”).
Reiner casts himself as “rockumentary” filmmaker Marty DiBergi (a goof on Martin Scorsese, who similarly interjected himself into The Last Waltz) who accompanies the hard rocking outfit on a tour of the states (“their first in six years”) to support the release of their new LP “Smell the Glove” (DiBergi has been a fan since first catching them at the “Electric Banana” in Greenwich Village in 1966).
By the time the film’s 84 minutes have expired, no one (and I mean, no one) involved in the business of rock ’n’ roll has been spared the knife-musicians, roadies, girlfriends, groupies, fans, band managers, rock journalists, concert promoters, record company execs, A & R reps, record store clerks…all are bagged and tagged.
Nearly every scene has become iconic in muso circles; ditto the plethora of quotable lines: “These go to eleven.” “I mean, it’s not your job to be as confused as Nigel.” “You can’t really dust for vomit.” “It’s such a fine line between stupid and clever.” “No…we’re NOT gonna fucking do ‘Stonehenge’!” “We’ve got armadillos in our trousers-it’s really quite frightening.”
The great supporting cast includes Tony Hendra (who steals all his scenes as the band’s prickly manager, clearly modeled after Led Zeppelin’s infamously fearsome handler Peter Grant), Bruno Kirby, Ed Begley, Jr., Fran Drescher, Parick Macnee, June Chadwick, Billy Crystal (“C’mon…mime is money!”), Howard Hesseman, Paul Shaffer, and Fred Williard.
So if you are looking for one Rob Reiner film to watch tonight in memoriam, I say go for the sights, the sounds…and the smells of this joyous romp. And as for your off-screen time…follow the advice someone offered on BlueSky today:
In a world full of Archie Bunkers, be a Meathead.R.I.P. Rob Reiner
