All posts by Dennis Hartley

Mask season: 25 movies for Halloween!

October 27, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 25, 2025)

I know what you’re thinking-we’re still a week out from Halloween, but ’tis the season. Besides, “Halloween” is practically a 4th-quarter long celebration, considering its proximity to All Saints Day, All Souls Day, All Hallows’ Eve, El Dia de los Muertos, Ghost Festival, Guy Fawkes Night, Mischief/Devil’s/Hell’s Night and Samhain. With that in mind (and apologies to Rod Serling for my paraphrasing) …Good evening, and welcome to a private showing of 25 films. Each is a collector’s item in its own way—not because of any special artistic quality, but because each captures on a celluloid canvas, streaming in time and space, a frozen moment of a nightmare. And …Happy Halloween!

Beauty and the Beast (1946)– Out of myriad movie adaptations of Mme. Leprince de Beaumont’s fairy tale, Jean Cocteau’s 1946 version remains the most soulful and poetic. This probably had something to do with the fact that it was made by a director who literally had the soul of a poet (Cocteau’s day job, in case you didn’t know). The film is a triumph of production design, with inventive visuals (photographed by Henri Alekan).

Jean Marais is affecting as The Beast, paralyzed by unrequited passion for beautiful Belle (Josette Day). This version is a surreal fairy tale not necessarily made with the kids in mind (especially with all the psycho-sexual subtexts). The timeless moral of the original tale, however, is still simple enough for a child to grasp: It’s what’s inside that counts.

The Blair Witch Project – Love it or hate it, there is no denying the impact of this cleverly marketed horror flick. In the event that you spent 1999 in a coma, this is the one where a crew of amateur actors were turned loose in dark and scary woods, armed with camping gear, video cameras and a plot point or two provided by filmmakers Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sanchez, who then proceeded to play creepy, “gotcha” mind games with their young troupe.

The result was surprisingly effective; after all, it’s the perception that “something” in the woods is out to get you that fuels nightmares-not a stunt man in a rubber monster suit lurching about in front of the camera. Arguably, you could cite The Last Broadcast (1998) or relatively more obscure 1980 cult flick Cannibal Holocaust as the progenitors of the “found footage” genre, but The Blair Witch Project took it to a an entirely new level.

Bubba Ho-Tep – This 2002 tongue-in-cheek shocker from Don “Phantasm” Coscarelli could have been “ripped from the headlines”…if those headlines were from The Weekly World News. In order to enjoy this romp, you must unlearn what you have learned. JFK (Ossie Davis) is still alive (long story)…he’s now an elderly African-American gentleman (even longer story). He resides at a decrepit nursing home in Texas, along with Elvis Presley (midnight movie icon Bruce Campbell).

The King and the President join wheelchairs to rid the facility of its formidable pest…a reanimated Egyptian mummy (with a ten-gallon hat) who’s been lurking about waiting for residents to pass on so he can suck out their souls. Lots of laughs, yet despite the over-the-top premise, both Campbell and Davis’ portrayals are respectful; even poignant at times.

Captain Kronos, Vampire Hunter – “What he doesn’t know about vampires wouldn’t even fill a flea’s codpiece!” This unusually droll Hammer entry from 1974 benefits from assured direction and a clever script by Brian Clemens (co-creator of The Avengers TV series). Captain Kronos (Horst Janson) and his stalwart consultant, Professor Hieronymus Grost (John Cater) assist a physician in investigating a mysterious malady befalling the residents of a sleepy hamlet…rapidly accelerating aging.

The professor suspects a youth-sucking vampire may be involved…and the game is afoot. Along the way, the Captain finds romance with the village babe, played by lovely Caroline Munro. The film was released at the tail end of Hammer’s classic period; possibly explaining why Clemens seems to be doing a parody of “a Hammer film”.

Delicatessen– Love is in the air…along with the butcher’s cleaver in this seriocomic vision of a food-scarce, dystopian “near-future” along the lines of Soylent Green, directed with trademark surrealist touches by co-directors Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro (The City of Lost Children). The pair’s favorite leading man, Dominique Pinon (sort of a sawed-off Robin Williams) plays a circus performer who moves into an apartment building with a butcher shop downstairs.

The shop’s proprietor seems to be appraising the new tenant with a “professional” eye. In Jeunet and Caro’s bizarre universe, it’s all par for the course (and just wait ‘til you get a load of the vegan “troglodytes” who live under the city). One memorable sequence, a comically choreographed lovemaking scene, is a masterclass in film and sound editing.

Don’t Look Now – This is a difficult film to describe without risking spoilers, so I’ll be brief. Based on a Daphne du Maurier story, this haunting, one-of-a-kind 1974 psychological thriller from Nicholas Roeg (Walkabout, The Man Who Fell to Earth) stars Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie as a couple who are coming to grips with the tragic death of their little girl. Roeg slowly percolates an ever-creeping sense of impending doom, drenched in the Gothic atmosphere of Venice.

Eating Raoul– The late great Paul Bartel directed and co-wrote this twisted and hilarious social satire. Bartel and his frequent screen partner Mary Waronov play Paul and Mary Bland, a prudish, buttoned-down couple who are horrified to discover that their apartment complex is home to an enclave of “swingers”. Paul is even more shocked when he comes home from his wine store job one day and discovers Mary struggling to escape the clutches of a swinger’s party guest who has mistakenly strayed into the Bland’s apartment.

Paul beans him with a frying pan, inadvertently killing Mary’s overeager groper. When the couple discovers a sizable wad of money on the body, a light bulb goes off-and the Blands come up with a unique plan for financing the restaurant that they have always dreamed of opening (and helping rid the world of those icky swingers!). Things get complicated, however when a burglar (Robert Beltran) ingratiates himself into their scheme. Yes, it’s sick…but in a good way.

Ed Wood – Director Tim Burton and his favorite leading man Johnny Depp have worked together on so many films over the last several decades that they are surely joined at the hip by now. For my money, this affectionate 1994 biopic about the man who directed “the worst film of all time” remains their best collaboration. It’s also unique in Burton’s canon in that it is somewhat grounded in reality.

Depp gives a brilliant performance as Edward D. Wood, Jr., who unleashed the infamously inept yet 100% certified cult classic, Plan 9 from Outer Space on an unsuspecting movie-going public in the late 50s. While there are lots of belly laughs, there’s no punching downward at Wood and his decidedly off-beat collaborators; in a way the film is a love letter to outsider film makers. Martin Landau steals his scenes with a droll, Oscar-winning turn as Bela Lugosi. Also with Bill Murray, Sarah Jessica Parker, Patricia Arquette and Jeffrey Jones.

Forbidden Zone – Picture if you will: an artistic marriage between John Waters, Max Fleischer, Busby Berkeley and Peter Greenaway. Now, imagine the wedding night (I’ll give you a sec). As for the “plot”, well, it’s about this indescribably twisty family who discovers a portal to a pan-dimensional…oh, never mind. Suffice it to say, any film that features Herve Villechaize as the King of the Sixth Dimension, Susan Tyrrell as his Queen and soundtrack composer Danny Elfman channeling Cab Calloway (via Satan), is a dream for some; a nightmare for others. Directed by Danny’s brother Richard.

I Married a Witch– Clocking in at 77 minutes, Rene Clair’s breezy 1942 romantic fantasy packs in more wit, sophistication and fun than any ten modern “comedies” you’d care to name put together. I’ll tell you what else holds up pretty well after 80 years…Veronica Lake’s allure and pixie charm. Lake is a riot as a witch who re-materializes 300 years after putting a curse on all male descendants of a Puritan who sent her to the stake.

She and her equally mischievous father (Cecil Kellaway) wreak havoc on the most recent descendant (Fredric March), a politician considering a run for governor. Lake decides to muck up his relationship with his fiancé (Susan Hayward) by making him fall in love with his tormentor. All she needs to do is slip him a little love potion, but her plan fizzes after she accidentally ingests it herself. And yes, hilarity ensues.

J-Men Forever!– Woody Allen may have done it first (What’s Up, Tiger Lily?) and the Mystery Science Theater 3000 troupe has since run the concept into the ground, but Firesign Theater veterans Phil Proctor and Peter Bergman did it best with J-Men Forever.

I am referring to the concept of re-appropriating footage from corny, no-budget B-films and re-dubbing the soundtrack with comic dialogue. I’ve been a devotee of this film since it aired on the USA Network’s after hours cult show Night Flight back in the 80s (alright, raise your bong if you remember that one).

The creators had a sizable archive from the old Republic serials to cull from, so they were not restricted by the narrative structure of one specific film. As a result, Proctor and Bergman’s wonderfully silly concoction about saving Earth from a nefarious alien mastermind called “The Lightning Bug” benefits from quick-cut editing, synced with their trademark barrage of one-liners, puns and double entendre, all set to a rock ‘n’ roll soundtrack. “Schtay high!”

Mulholland Drive – David Lynch’s nightmarish, yet mordantly droll twist on the Hollywood dream makes The Day of the Locust seem like an upbeat romp. Naomi Watts stars as a fresh-faced ingénue with high hopes who blows into La-la Land from Somewhere in Middle America to (wait for it) become a star. Those plans get, shall we say, put on hold…once she crosses paths with a voluptuous and mysterious amnesiac (Laura Harring).

What ensues is the usual Lynch mind fuck, and if you buy the ticket, you better be ready to take the ride, because this is one of his more fun ones (or as close as one gets to having “fun” watching a Lynch film). This one grew on me; by the third or fourth time I’d seen it I decided that it’s one of the iconoclastic director’s finest efforts. Peter Deming’s cinematography is stunning. The truly fascinating cast includes Justin Theroux, Ann Miller, Michael J. Anderson, Robert Forster, Lee Grant, Chad Everett, Dan Hedaya, and, erm, Billy Ray Cyrus.

Multiple Maniacs – Warning: This 1970 trash classic from czar of bad taste John Waters is definitely not for the pious, easily offended or the faint of heart. The one and only Divine heads the cast who became Waters’ faithful “Dreamland” repertory (Edith Massey, Mink Stole, David Lochary, etc.) in a tale of mayhem, filth and blasphemy too shocking to discuss in mixed company (you’ll never see a Passion Play the same way).

Watching this recently for the first time in several decades, I was suddenly struck by the similarities with the contemporaneous films of Rainier Werner Fassbinder (Love is Colder than Death and Gods of the Plague in particular). Once you get past its inherent shock value, Multiple Maniacs is very much an American art film.

The Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933) – “Images of wax that throbbed with human passion!” Get your mind out of the gutter…I’m merely quoting the purple prose that graced the original posters for this 1933 horror thriller, directed by the eclectic Michael Curtiz (Adventures of Robin Hood, The Sea Hawk, Yankee Doodle Dandy, Casablanca, Mildred Pierce, King Creole, et.al.).

Beautiful (and busy) Fay Wray (who starred in King Kong the same year) captures the eye of a disturbed wax sculptor (a hammy Lionel Atwill) for reasons that are ah…more “professional” than personal. Wray is great eye candy, but it is her co-star Glenda Farrell who steals the show as a wisecracking reporter (are there any other kind of reporters in 30s films?). Farrell’s comedy chops add just the right amount of levity to this genuinely creepy tale. A classic.

Night of the Hunter – Is it a film noir? A horror movie? A black comedy? A haunting American folk tale? The answer would be yes. The man responsible for this tough-to-categorize 1957 film was one of the greatest acting hams of the 20^th century, Charles Laughton, who began and ended his directorial career with this effort. Like a great many films now regarded as “cult classics”, this one was savaged by critics and tanked at the box office upon its initial release (enough to spook Laughton from ever returning to the director’s chair).

Robert Mitchum is brilliant (and genuinely scary) as a knife-wielding religious zealot who does considerably more “preying” than praying. Before his condemned cell mate (Peter Graves) meets the hangman, he talks in his sleep about $10,000 in loot stashed on his property. When the “preacher” gets out of the slam, he makes a beeline for the widow (Shelly Winters) and her two young’uns. A disturbing tale unfolds. The great Lillian Gish is on board as well. It’s artfully directed by Laughton and beautifully shot by DP Stanley Cortez.

No Such Thing– Director Hal Hartley’s arch, deadpan observations on the human condition either grab you or leave you cold, and this modern Beauty and the Beast tale is no exception. TV news intern Beatrice (Sarah Polley) is sent to Iceland to get an exclusive on a real-life “monster” (Robert Burke), an immortal nihilist who kills boredom by drinking heavily and terrorizing whomsoever is handy.

After her plane goes down en route, her cynical boss (Helen Mirren) smells an even bigger story when Beatrice becomes the “miracle survivor” of the crash. The Monster agrees to come back to N.Y.C. if Beatrice helps him track down the one scientist in the world who can put him out of his misery.

The pacing in the first half is leisurely; dominated by the Monster’s morose, raving monologues, set against the stark, moody Icelandic backdrop (I was reminded of David Thewlis’ raging, darkly funny harangues in Naked). Once the story heads for New York, however, the movie turns into a satire of the art world (a la John Waters’ Pecker), as the couple quickly become celebrities du jour with the trendy Downtown crowd.

Psycho – Bad, bad Norman. Such a disappointment to his mother. “MOTHERRRR!!!” Poor, poor Janet Leigh. No sooner had she recovered from her bad motel experience in Touch of Evil than she found herself checking in to the Bates and having a late dinner in a dimly lit office, surrounded by Norman’s unsettling taxidermy collection. And this is only the warm up to what Alfred Hitchcock has in store for her later that evening (anyone for a shower?).

This brilliant thriller has spawned so many imitations, I’ve lost count. While tame by today’s standards, several key scenes still have the power to shock. Twitchy Tony Perkins sets the bar for future movie psycho killers. Joseph Stefano adapted the spare screenplay from Robert Bloch’s novel. Also in the cast: Vera Miles, John Gavin, Martin Balsalm, and Simon Oakland.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show – Speaking of Fay Wray…50 of years of midnight showings have not diminished the cult status of Jim Sharman’s film adaptation of Richard O’Brien’s stage musical about a hapless young couple (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon) who have the misfortune of stumbling into the lair of one Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Tim Curry) one dark and stormy night. O’Brien co-stars as the mad doctor’s hunchbacked assistant, Riff-Raff.

Much singing, dancing, cross-dressing, axe-murdering, cannibalism and hot sex ensues-with broad theatrical nods to everything from Metropolis, King Kong and Frankenstein to cheesy 1950s sci-fi, Bob Fosse musicals, 70s glam-rock and everything in between. Runs out of steam a bit in the third act, but the knockout musical numbers in the first hour or so makes it worth repeated viewings.

Rosemary’s Baby – “He has his father’s eyes!” Roman Polanski put the “goth” back in “gothic” in this devilish 1968 metropolitan horror classic. A New York actor (John Cassavetes) and his young, socially phobic wife Rosemary (Mia Farrow) move into a somewhat dark and foreboding Manhattan apartment building (the famed Dakota, John Lennon’s final residence), hoping to start a family. A busybody neighbor (Ruth Gordon) quickly gloms onto Rosemary with an unhealthy zest (to Rosemary’s chagrin). Her nightmare is only beginning. No axe murders, no gore, and barely a drop of blood…but thanks to Polanski’s impeccable craft, this will scare the bejesus out of you and continue to creep you out after credits roll. Polanski adapted the screenplay from Ira Levin’s novel.

The Shining – “Hello, Danny.” It has been said that Stephen King hated Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of his sprawling novel about a family of three who hole up in an isolated Rocky Mountain hotel for the winter. Well-that’s his personal problem. I think this is the greatest “psychological” horror film ever made…period (OK that’s a bit hyperbolic-perhaps we can call it “a draw” with Polanski’s Repulsion).

Anyway…Jack Nicholson discovers that all work and no play make Jack a dull boy. Jack Nicholson discovers that all work and no play make Jack a dull boy. Jack Nicholson discovers that all work and no play make Jack a dull boy. Jack Nicholson discovers that all work and no play make Jack a dull boy, etc.

The Shout – This unsettling 1978 sleeper was adapted from a Robert Graves story by Michal Austin and its director, Jerzy Skolimowski. The late John Hurt is excellent as a mild-mannered avant-garde musician who lives in a sleepy English hamlet with his wife (Susannah York). When an enigmatic vagabond (Alan Bates) blows into town, their quiet country life begins to go…elsewhere. This is a genre-defying film; somewhere between psychological horror and culture clash drama. I’ll put it this way-if you like Peter Weir’s The Last Wave (which would make a great double-bill) this one is in your wheelhouse.

Siesta – Depending on who you ask, Mary Lambert’s 1987 thriller is either a compelling riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma…or an unfinished film in search of a narrative. It was not well received by critics, but has a modest cult following, of which I am a card-carrying member.

Ellen Barkin stars as an American daredevil who wakes up on a deserted runway in Spain, dazed, bruised and confused. As she wanders about getting her bearings, pieces of her memory return. She encounters assorted characters in increasingly weird scenarios. The film lies somewhere between Carnival of Souls and Memento.

Also with Gabriel Byrne, Julian Sands, Isabella Rossellini, Martin Sheen, Grace Jones, and Jodie Foster. Patricia Louisiana Knop (9½ Weeks) adapted the screenplay from Patrice Chaplin’s novel. Atmospheric score by Miles Davis. Long out-of-print on DVD, this is a film begging for a Blu-ray release (should any reissue label folks be reading this…hint, hint!).

Trollhunter – Like previous entries in horror’s “found footage” sub-genre, Trollhunter features an unremarkable, no-name cast; but then again you don’t really require the services of an Olivier when most of the dialog is along the lines of “Where ARE you!?”, “Jesus, look at the size of that fucking thing!”, “RUN!!!” or the ever popular “AieEEE!”.

Seriously, though- what I like about Andre Ovredal’s film (aside from the convincing monsters) is the way he cleverly weaves commentary on religion and politics into his narrative. The story concerns three Norwegian film students who initially set off to do an expose on illegal bear poaching, but become embroiled with a clandestine government program to rid Norway of trolls who have been terrorizing the remote areas of the country (you’ll have to suspend your disbelief as to how the government has been able to “cover up” 200 foot tall monsters rampaging about). The “trollhunter” himself is quite a character. And always remember: while hunting trolls…it’s best to leave the Christians at home!

Ugetsu Monogatari – Kenji Mizoguchi’s eerie 1953 ghost story/morality tale was adapted from several short stories by 18^th-Century writer and poet Ueda Akinari.

The story is set in 16^th-Century Japan, in the midst of one of the civil wars of the era. A potter of modest means and grandiose financial schemes (Masayuki Mori) and his n’er do well brother (Eitaro Ozawa) who fantasizes about becoming a renowned samurai warrior ignore the dire warnings of a local sage and allow their greed and ambition to take full hold, which leads to tragic consequences for their abandoned wives (Mitsuko Mito and Kinuyo Tanaka).

Beautifully acted; particularly strong performances by the three female leads (Mito, Tanaka, and the great Machiko Kyo as the sorceress Lady Wakasa). It’s a slow-burning tale, but if you just give it time the emotional wallop of the denouement will floor you.

Young Frankenstein – Writer-director Mel Brooks’ 1974 film transgresses the limitations of the “spoof” genre to create something wholly original. Brooks goofs on elements from James Whale’s original 1931 version of Frankenstein, his 1935 sequel, Bride of Frankenstein, and Rowland V. Lee’s 1939 spinoff, Son of Frankenstein.

Gene Wilder heads a marvelous cast as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein (pronounced, “Franken-schteen”) the grandson of the “infamous” mad scientist who liked to play around with dead things. Despite his propensity for distancing himself from that legacy, a notice of inheritance precipitates a visit to the family estate in Transylvania, where the discovery of his grandfather’s “secret” laboratory awakens his dark side.

Wilder is quite funny (as always), but he plays it relatively straight, making a perfect foil for the comedic juggernaut of Madeline Khan, Marty Feldman, Peter Boyle, Cloris Leachman (“Blucher!”), Terri Garr and Kenneth Mars, who are all at the top of their game. The scene featuring a non-billed Gene Hackman (as an old blind hermit) is a classic.

This is also Brooks’ most technically accomplished film; the meticulous replication of Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory (utilizing props from the 1931 original), Gerald Hirschfeld’s gorgeous B & W photography and Dale Hennesy’s production design all combine to create an effective (and affectionate) homage to the heyday of Universal monster movies.

On Music, On Politics

Basket of Inflatables: A “No Kings” mixtape

October 20, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 18, 2025)

“When it gets down to having to use violence, then you are playing the system’s game. The establishment will irritate you – pull your beard, flick your face – to make you fight. Because once they’ve got you violent, then they know how to handle you. The only thing they don’t know how to handle is non-violence and humor.”—John Lennon

In my 2012 review of Benoit Jacquot’s Farewell, My Queen (a drama centered on intrigue in the court of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI at Versailles on the eve of the French Revolution), I wrote:

It’s nearly impossible to observe the disconnect of these privileged aristocrats carrying on in their gilded bubble while the impoverished and disenfranchised rabble sharpen up the guillotines without drawing parallels with our current state of affairs (history, if nothing else, is cyclical).

You can go back even further in time, and the same holds true. From my 2012 piece on the 1976 BBC-TV adaptation of I, Claudius:

While an opening line of “I, Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus…” could portend more of a snooze-inducing history lecture, rather than 11 hours of must-see-TV, the 1976 BBC series, adapted from Robert Graves’ 1934 historical novel about ancient Rome’s Julio-Claudian dynasty, was indeed the latter, holding U.S. viewers in thrall for its 12-week run.

While it is quite possible that at the time, my friends and I were slightly more in thrall with the occasional teasing glimpses of semi-nudity than we were with, say, the beauty of Jac Pulman’s writing, the wonder of the performances and historical complexity of the narrative, over the years I have come to realize that I think I learned everything I needed to know about politics from watching (and re-watching) I, Claudius.

It’s all there…the systemic greed and corruption of the ruling plutocracy, the raging hypocrisy, the grandstanding, glad-handing and the back-stabbing (in this case, both figurative and literal). Seriously, over the last 2000 years, not much has changed in the political arena.

Case in point…just this week, I was reminded of a scene from I, Claudius. This was the trigger:

Q: "Are you considering strikes on land in Venezuela?"Trump: "Well, I don't want to tell you exactly, but we are certainly looking at land now because we have the sea very well under control."

— The Bulwark (@thebulwark.com) 2025-10-15T21:40:41.055Z

Given the Current Occupant’s predilection to utilize the royal “We” as his preferred personal pronoun, coupled with His Imperial Majesty’s somewhat grandiose proclamation that “We have the sea very well under control” (not to mention the Romanesque optics of that gaudily appointed Oval Office), this is the scene that instantly came to mind:

“Your emperor is amongst you once again. All his wars successfully concluded, and the victorious armies brought back to Rome. He had thought, in his divine innocence, that the roads might be lined with cheering crowds; he had thought that the streets might be strewn with flowers; he had thought that there’d be messages to greet him telling him of triumphs to be awarded. And what did he find, this conqueror of the Germans, this victor of the mighty Neptune? The streets empty of crowds and flowers, no triumphs rewarded, no games, no celebrations–but three miserable, old, ex-counsels waiting at the gates to meet him, and a room full of cowardly, stay-at-home senators who have spent all their time in the theatre and in the baths, while he has spent six months, living no better than a private soldier!? Yes! Your emperor has returned! BUT WITH THIS IN HIS HAND! (produces a frighteningly large battle sword from his robes)
(The terrified senators remain silent for a few beats, until one steps forward)

Senator: (cautiously) But Jove, you ordered no triumphs!

Caligula: (amazed at the senator’s stupidity) Well, of course I ordered no triumphs, do you think I’d ordered triumphs for myself?!

Senator: But you ordered us not to order any!

Caligula: Yessssss, and you took me at my word, didn’t you? Typical! It didn’t occur to you that I might be leaving it up to you for your love to show itself freely; didn’t occur to you that it might be my natural humility speaking! “I ordered you not to celebrate”. But you ordered celebrations for the anniversary of Actiom, didn’t you? Didn’t forget to celebrate the defeat of my great-grandfather, Marc Antony! How many bottles of wine did you open, toasting his murder while I was doing battle with the sea? (to his soldiers) Show them our booty! Show them the plunder we gathered from old Neptune!
(Four soldiers quickly empty two trunks of their contents; everyone watches in silent horror as thousands of dry seashells spill out onto the floor.)

Senator: Seashells?!

Caligula: (chuckling to himself with delight) Yes! Spoils of the sea; loot from old Neptune! Hee-hee! He’ll not take me on again in a hurry…

“Do you think I’d ordered triumphs for myself?!” Which reminds me of another funny story… remember Trump’s counter programming to the first “No Kings Day” last June?

“He had thought, in his divine innocence, that the roads might be lined with cheering crowds; he had thought that the streets might be strewn with flowers…” Well, Mr. President…as your favorite campaign rally song goes: “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” – even when you order a $45 million military parade in honor of your own birthday (give some people an inch, they think they’re a ruler). Historical sidebar-the mad emperor Caligula actually did declare war on the sea. All one can say about that is that he is long gone, but the sea is still here.

But hey…if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Via Snopes this past Thursday:

As activists planned another “No Kings” protest on Oct. 18, 2025, to voice discontent with the administration of Republican U.S. President Donald Trump, a rumor spread on social media that the president was planning a “show of force” by launching missiles over California.

The rumor claimed the administration planned on closing Interstate 5 “to shoot out missiles from ships” and into Camp Pendleton, a training facility for the Marines about 80 miles southeast of Los Angeles.

Users across social media sites such as Instagram (archived), X (archived) and Facebook (archived) shared the claim. Some suggested Trump planned on using the excuse of a military showcase in order to intimidate “No Kings” protesters, citing the administration’s attempts to characterize the protests as anti-American.

Many Snopes readers emailed us to ask about the veracity of this rumor.

On Oct. 15, 2025, the Marines posted a statement on their official website announcing “a live-fire Amphibious Capabilities Demonstration at Red Beach, Camp Pendleton” that would be followed by “a community Beach Bash at Del Mar Beach on Saturday, Oct. 18, 2025, to mark the Marine Corps’ 250th birthday and America’s Semiquincentennial.”

The statement said “the capabilities demonstration will feature integrated Navy and Marine Corps operations across air, land, and sea” and assured the public that “all training events will occur on approved training ranges and comport with established safety protocols.”

The statement also confirmed “no public highways or transportation routes will be closed” and that the White House would be capturing the event on film for a Nov. 9 television broadcast.

Snopes reached out to the White House for comment on the assertion that Trump intended to use the demonstration as a “show of force” against protesters and will update this article if we receive a response.

You’ve gotta at least give the Prez credit for trying, bless his heart. Meanwhile, members of the Court of the Orange King have kept themselves busy this past week sounding the alarm:

But ahead of the “No Kings” rallies across the country on Saturday, the GOP’s effort has taken a rather stunning turn.

The Trump team and its allies suggested that the rallies, which are likely to draw millions of people, will essentially be chock full of antifa, terrorist sympathizers and even terrorists themselves.

It’s baseless and ugly, yes. But it’s also highly suspect strategically.

The GOP rhetoric surrounding this and the Democratic base more broadly has grown remarkably pitched.

House Speaker Mike Johnson of Louisiana has called them “hate America” rallies and said it’s “all the pro-Hamas wing and, you know, the antifa people.”

Then there was this:

“This interview proved that the Democrat Party’s main constituency are made up of Hamas terrorists, illegal aliens and violent criminals,” White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt told Fox News on Oct. 16.

(Deep breath) Let’s see how the No Kings Day rallies are going so far:

No kid should ever have to protest or advocate for their friends’ basic humanity.But they’re standing up at No Kings anyway.

— Kat Abughazaleh (@katmabu.bsky.social) 2025-10-18T16:24:51.128Z

I understand the FBI is currently looking into whether that America-hating protester is a Hamas terrorist, illegal alien, or a violent criminal.

But seriously, folks:

No Kings-Chicago, IL

— Blue Texas (@turntexasblue.bsky.social) 2025-10-18T17:35:55.259Z

😍 Boston, you are beautiful. #NoKings

— Indivisible ❌👑 (@indivisible.org) 2025-10-18T17:22:53.407Z

No Kings protest kicking off in Washington, D.C. Here’s the view down Pennsylvania Avenue from near the front. Street is totally packed for blocks.

— Alejandro Alvarez (@aletakesphotos.bsky.social) 2025-10-18T16:57:24.230Z

Video: No Kings protests against Trump in New York City.

— AZ Intel (@azintel.bsky.social) 2025-10-18T17:08:01.655Z

So overall (if I may paraphrase Huey Lewis) …things are rockin’ in DC, San Antone and the Liberty Town, Boston and Baton Rouge, Tulsa, Austin, Oklahoma City, Seattle, San Francisco, too. The heart of democracy is still beating. On that note, let’s keep the party going!

The Beatles – “Revolution”

Frank Zappa – “Trouble Every Day”

Elvis Costello – “Night Rally”

Green Day – “American Idiot”

The Clash – “Clampdown”

Woody Guthrie – “All You Fascists Bound to Lose”

Bob Marley & the Wailers – “Get Up, Stand Up”

Graham Nash – “Chicago“

The Style Council – “The Whole Point of No Return”

Tracy Chapman – “Talkin’ About a Revolution”

John Lennon – “Power to the People”

Sly & the Family Stone – “Stand!”

Heaven 17 – “(We Don’t Need This) Fascist Groove Thang”

Public Enemy – “Fight the Power”

Rage Against the Machine – “Take the Power Back”

Gil Scott-Heron – “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”

The Honeydrippers – “Impeach the President”

The Buffalo Springfield – “For What It’s Worth”

Billy Bragg – “There is Power in a Union”

Malvina Reynolds – “It Isn’t Nice”

Pete Seeger – “We Shall Overcome”

Previous posts with related themes:

404 Terror

The Edge of Democracy

Battleground

On Mad Kings, Death Cults, and Altman’s Secret Honor

Michael and Me in Trumpland

The Queen of Versailles

In the Seattle Mist with Confederate Dead

Under the Grey Sky

Hacking Hate

Against All Enemies

Martin Eden

The Trial of the Chicago 7

Deja Vu

The U.S. vs. John Lennon

Now We See the Light: A Mixtape

A Trump Era Survival Guide

Adventure, Culture Clash, Documentary, Drama

Beds Are Burning: Top 10 Films for Indigenous Peoples Day

October 14, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 13, 2025)

What a difference an administration can make.

On October 9th, 2020, then-President Trump issued an official Columbus Day Proclamation, which read in part:

Sadly, in recent years, radical activists have sought to undermine Christopher Columbus’s legacy. These extremists seek to replace discussion of his vast contributions with talk of failings, his discoveries with atrocities, and his achievements with transgressions. Rather than learn from our history, this radical ideology and its adherents seek to revise it, deprive it of any splendor, and mark it as inherently sinister. They seek to squash any dissent from their orthodoxy. We must not give in to these tactics or consent to such a bleak view of our history. We must teach future generations about our storied heritage, starting with the protection of monuments to our intrepid heroes like Columbus. This June, I signed an Executive Order to ensure that any person or group destroying or vandalizing a Federal monument, memorial, or statue is prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

I have also taken steps to ensure that we preserve our Nation’s history and promote patriotic education. In July, I signed another Executive Order to build and rebuild monuments to iconic American figures in a National Garden of American Heroes. In September, I announced the creation of the 1776 Commission, which will encourage our educators to teach our children about the miracle of American history and honor our founding. In addition, last month I signed an Executive Order to root out the teaching of racially divisive concepts from the Federal workplace, many of which are grounded in the same type of revisionist history that is trying to erase Christopher Columbus from our national heritage. Together, we must safeguard our history and stop this new wave of iconoclasm by standing against those who spread hate and division.

Fast-forward to one year ago (feels like decades)…On October 11th, 2024 (and for the 4th year in a row), in addition to an official Columbus Day Proclamation, then-President Biden issued an official Indigenous Peoples’ Day Proclamation , which read in part:

On Indigenous Peoples’ Day, we honor Indigenous peoples’ strength, courage, and resilience. We celebrate the vast contributions of Indigenous communities to the world. And we recommit to respecting Tribal sovereignty and self-determination and working to usher in a new era of our Nation-to-Nation relationships.

The history of America’s Indigenous peoples is marked by perseverance, survival, and a deep commitment to and pride in their heritage, right to self-governance, and ways of life. Since time immemorial, Indigenous peoples have built and sustained powerful Tribal Nations, cultivated rich cultures, and established vibrant communities. And their discoveries and knowledge still benefit us today. But because of our Nation’s failed policies of the past, generations of Native peoples have faced cruelty, violence, and intimidation. They were forced to leave their homelands, prohibited from speaking their own languages and practicing their sacred traditions, and forced into assimilation. Indigenous lives were lost, livelihoods were ripped away, and communities were fundamentally altered. Despite the trauma and turmoil, Indigenous peoples have persisted and survived. Their stories are testaments to the bravery and resolve of generations to preserve their heritage, cultures, and identities for those to come after them.

Today, Indigenous peoples lead in every way, share their histories, and strengthen their communities. They are also stewarding lands and waters, growing our shared prosperity, and celebrating the good of our Nation while pushing us to tell the full truth of our history. Indigenous peoples have long served in the United States military, fighting for democracy. And Indigenous communities continue to be an integral part of the fabric of the United States, contributing so much to our shared prosperity. […]

From day one, I have worked to include Indigenous voices at the table in all we do. I have appointed Native Americans to lead across the Federal Government, including the Secretary of the Interior, Deb Haaland — America’s first Native American Cabinet secretary — and so many others serving in key roles in my Administration. I was proud to re-establish the White House Council on Native American Affairs to help coordinate policy. Together, we have taken historic steps to improve the consultation process between Federal agencies and Tribal Nations. […]

When my Administration reauthorized the Violence Against Women Act in 2022, we included historic provisions to reaffirm Tribal sovereignty and expand Tribal jurisdiction in cases where outside perpetrators harm members of their Nation. And recognizing the ties of Indigenous peoples across North America, I supported a Trilateral Working Group with Canada and Mexico to ensure Indigenous women and girls in all three countries can live free from violence.

My Administration is also preserving important ancestral Tribal lands and waters. I have protected and conserved more than 42 million acres of our Nation’s lands and waters. I established, expanded, or restored 11 national monuments. […]

On Indigenous Peoples’ Day, we recognize that it is hard work to heal the wrongs of the past and to change course and move forward, but together, nothing is beyond our capacity. May we take pride in the progress we have made to establish a new era of Tribal sovereignty and Indigenous self-determination — one grounded in dignity, respect, and friendship.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, JOSEPH R. BIDEN JR., President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim October 14, 2024, as Indigenous Peoples’ Day. I call upon the people of the United States to observe this day with appropriate ceremonies and activities. I also direct that the flag of the United States be displayed on all public buildings on the appointed day in honor of our diverse history and the Indigenous peoples who contribute to shaping this Nation.

*sigh*

That was then, and (sadly) this is now:

Today [October 13, 2025] our Nation honors the legendary Christopher Columbus — the original American hero, a giant of Western civilization, and one of the most gallant and visionary men to ever walk the face of the earth. This Columbus Day, we honor his life with reverence and gratitude, and we pledge to reclaim his extraordinary legacy of faith, courage, perseverance, and virtue from the left-wing arsonists who have sought to destroy his name and dishonor his memory. […]

Commissioned by Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, Columbus and his crew boarded three small ships — the Niña, Pinta, and Santa Maria — to set sail on a perilous voyage across the Atlantic. He was guided by a noble mission: to discover a new trade route to Asia, bring glory to Spain, and spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ to distant lands. […]

Guided by steadfast prayer and unwavering fortitude and resolve, Columbus’s journey carried thousands of years of wisdom, philosophy, reason, and culture across the Atlantic into the Americas — paving the way for the ultimate triumph of Western civilization less than three centuries later on July 4, 1776.

Outrageously, in recent years, Christopher Columbus has been a prime target of a vicious and merciless campaign to erase our history, slander our heroes, and attack our heritage. Before our very eyes, left-wing radicals toppled his statues, vandalized his monuments, tarnished his character, and sought to exile him from our public spaces. Under my leadership, those days are finally over — and our Nation will now abide by a simple truth: Christopher Columbus was a true American hero, and every citizen is eternally indebted to his relentless determination. […]

Oh…did I mention that missive came from The Resolute Desk of (returning) President Donald J. Trump? Unlike his Oval Office predecessor, he has not issued a companion proclamation that also acknowledges Indigenous Peoples’ Day. Perhaps that is because Trump’s illustrious Secretary of, uh…”War” has already made this administration’s stance regarding the history of America’s Indigenous people quite clear:

Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth announced in a video post [this past September] that soldiers who participated in the 1890 massacre of more than 250 women, men, and children at Wounded Knee will keep Medals of Honor that many have said should be rescinded.

On December 29, 1890, some 500 troops of the U.S. 7th Cavalry Regiment surrounded a group of Lakota people who were camped at Wounded Knee Creek on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota.

The Lakota had been forced to march to Pine Ridge from the Standing Rock Indian Reservation after U.S. Indian Agency Police killed Lakota Chief Sitting Bull, who led his people during years of resistance to U.S. government policies that forcibly relocated Indigenous people from their homes to reservations.

The troops entered the camp to disarm the Lakota. During a brief scuffle between a soldier and a Lakota man who refused to surrender his weapon, the rifle fired, alarming the rest of the troops. The soldiers began firing on the Lakota, many of whom tried to flee the assault. The attack left more than 250 Lakota dead; over half of those killed were women, children, and elderly tribal members, and most of the dead were unarmed.

Despite the extreme cruelty and the killing of so many innocent people, Medals of Honor were given to 19 soldiers for their actions and conduct.

For generations, Native American groups, including the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe and the National Congress of American Indians, advocates, state lawmakers from South Dakota, and members of Congress have called for the awards to be rescinded.

A century after the massacre, Congress apologized to the descendants of the people killed at Wounded Knee, but did not revoke the awards, AP reported. […]

“We’re making it clear that (the soldiers) deserve those medals,” Hegseth said, before adding that “their place in our nation’s history is no longer up for debate.”

“We salute their memory,” he said in closing. “We honor their service, and we will never forget what they did.”

Even a stopped clock…

I actually agree with the Secretary on that last part: we should never forget what they did.

At any rate…in honor of this Indigenous Peoples’ Day, I’ve selected 10 related films that are well worth your time.

Arctic Son — I first saw this documentary (not to be confused with the unrelated 2013 film Arctic Son: Fulfilling the Dream) at the 2006 Seattle International Film Festival. Andrew Walton’s film is a classic “city mouse-country mouse” story centering on a First Nations father and son who are reunited after a 25-year estrangement.

Stanley, Jr. was raised in Washington State by his single mom. Consequently, he is more plugged in to hip-hop and video games than to his native Gwich’in culture. Troubled by her son’s substance abuse, Stanley’s mother packs him off for an extended visit with Stanley Sr., who lives a traditional subsistence lifestyle in the Yukon Territories. The initially wary young man gradually warms to both the unplugged lifestyle and his long-estranged father. Affecting and heartwarming.

The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith — One of the highlights of the “Australian New Wave” that flourished in the 70s and 80s, writer-director Fred Schepsi’s 1978 drama (adapted from Thomas Keneally’s novel, which is loosely based on a true story) is set in Australia at the turn of the 20th Century.

Jimmie Blacksmith (Tommy Lewis) is a half-caste Aboriginal who goes out into the world to make his own way after being raised by a white minister and his wife. Unfortunately, the “world” he is entering from the relative protective bubble of his upbringing is that of a society fraught with systemic racism; one that sees him only as a young black man ripe for exploitation.

While Jimmie is inherently altruistic, every person has their limit, and over time the escalating degradation and daily humiliations lead to a shocking explosion of cathartic violence that turns him into a wanted fugitive. An unblinking look at a dark period of Australian history; powerful and affecting.

Dead Man — Rhymes with: “deadpan”. Then again, that could describe any film directed by the idiosyncratic Jim Jarmusch. As far as Kafkaesque westerns go, you could do worse than this 1995 offering (beautifully photographed by the late Robby Müller).

Johnny Depp plays mild-mannered accountant and city slicker William Blake (yes, I know) who travels West by train to the rustic town of Machine, where he has accepted a job. Or so he assumes. Getting shooed out of his would-be employer’s office at gunpoint (a great cameo by Robert Mitchum) turns out to be the least of his problems, which rapidly escalate. Soon, he’s a reluctant fugitive on the lam. Once he crosses paths with an enigmatic Native American named Nobody (the wonderful Gary Farmer), his journey takes on a mythic quality. Surreal, darkly funny, and poetic.

The Emerald Forest — Although it may initially seem a heavy-handed (if well-meaning) “save the rain forest” polemic, John Boorman’s underrated 1985 adventure (a cross between The Searchers and Greystoke: The Legend of Tarzan) goes much deeper.

Powers Boothe plays an American construction engineer working on a dam project in Brazil. One day, while his wife and young son are visiting the job site on the edge of the rain forest, the boy is abducted and adopted by an indigenous tribe who call themselves “The Invisible People”, touching off an obsessive decade-long search by the father. By the time he is finally reunited with his now-teenage son (Charley Boorman), the challenge becomes a matter of how he and his wife (Meg Foster) are going to coax the young man back into “civilization”.

Tautly directed, lushly photographed (by Philippe Rousselot) and well-acted. Rosco Pallenberg scripted (he also adapted the screenplay for Boorman’s 1981 film Excalibur).

The Gods Must Be Crazy — Writer-director Jamie Uys’ 1984 cult favorite is a spot-on allegory regarding First World/Third World culture clash. The premise is simple: A wandering Kalahari Bushman named Xi (N!xau) happens upon a discarded Coke bottle that has been carelessly tossed from a small plane. Having no idea what the object is or how it got there, Xi spirits it back to his village for a confab on what it may portend. Concerned over the uproar and unsavory behavioral changes the empty Coke bottle ignites within the normally peaceful community, Xi treks to “the edge of the world” to give the troublesome object back to the gods. Uys overdoes the slapstick at times, but drives his point home in an endearing fashion.

The Last Wave —Peter Weir’s enigmatic 1977 courtroom drama/psychological thriller concerns a Sydney-based defense lawyer (Richard Chamberlain) who takes on five clients (all Aboriginals) who are accused of conspiring in a ritualistic murder. As he prepares his case, he begins to experience haunting visions and dreams related to age-old Aboriginal prophesies.

A truly unique film, at once compelling, and unsettling; beautifully photographed by Russel Boyd. Lurking just beneath the supernatural, metaphysical and mystical elements are insightful observations on how indigenous people struggle to reconcile venerable superstitions and traditions while retaining a strong cultural identity in the modern world.

Mekko — Director Sterlin Harjo’s tough, lean, and realistic character study is set in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Rod Rondeaux (Meek’s Cutoff) is outstanding in the lead, as a Muscogee Indian who gets out of jail after 19 years. Bereft of funds and family support, he finds tenuous shelter among the rough-and-tumble “street chief” community of homeless Native Americans as he sorts out how he’s going to get back on his feet. Harjo coaxes naturalistic performances from his entire cast. There’s a lot more going on here than initially meets the eye; namely, a deeper examination of Native American identity,

Powwow Highway —A Native American road movie from 1989 that eschews stereotypes and tells its story with a blend of social and magical realism. Gary Farmer (who resembles the young Jonathan Winters) plays Philbert, a hulking Cheyenne with a gentle soul who wolfs down cheeseburgers and chocolate malts with the countenance of a beatific Buddha. He has decided that it is time to “become a warrior” and leave the res on a quest to “gather power”.

After choosing a “war pony” for his journey (a rusted-out beater that he trades for with a bag of weed), he sets off and is waylaid by his childhood friend (A. Martinez) an A.I.M. activist who needs a lift to Santa Fe to bail out his sister, framed by the Feds on a possession beef. Funny, poignant, uplifting and richly rewarding. Director Jonathan Wacks and screenwriters Janey Heaney and Jean Stawarz keep it real. Look for cameos from Wes Studi and Graham Greene.

This May Be the Last Time — Did you know that the eponymous Rolling Stones song shares the same roots with a venerable Native-American tribal hymn, that is still sung in Seminole and Muscogee churches to this day? While that’s far from the main thrust of Sterlin Harjo’s documentary, it’s but one of its surprises.

Harjo investigates a family story concerning the disappearance of his Oklahoman Seminole grandfather in 1962. After a perfunctory search by local authorities turned up nothing, tribal members pooled their resources and continued to look. Some members of the search party kept up spirits by singing traditional Seminole and Muscogee hymns…which inform the second level of Harjo’s film.

Through interviews with tribal members and musicologists, he traces the roots of this unique genre, connecting the dots between the hymns, African-American spirituals, Scottish and Appalachian music. The film doubles as both history lesson and a moving personal journey.

Walkabout — Nicholas Roeg’s 1971 adventure/culture clash drama introduced audiences to charismatic Aboriginal actor David Gulpilil (who also appears in another film on my list, The Last Wave). Gulpilil is an Aboriginal teenager (“Black Boy” in the credits) who unexpectedly encounters a teenage “Girl” (Jenny Agutter) and “White Boy” (the Girl’s little brother, played by Luc Roeg) while he is on a solo “walkabout” in the Australian Outback.

The sun-stroked and severely dehydrated siblings have become stranded as the result of a family outing gone terribly (and disturbingly) awry. Without making any promises, the Aboriginal boy allows them to tag along; teaching them his survival techniques as they struggle to communicate as best as they can.

Like many of my selections here, Roeg’s film challenges us to rethink the definition of “civilization”, especially as it pertains to indigenous cultural identity.

Previous posts with related themes:

Free Leonard Peltier

Yanuni

Hey, Viktor!

Lakota Nation vs the United States

Beans

Waikiki

Caterpillars

Ainu Mosir

Birds of Passage

Angry Inuk

The Revenant

Tibet in Song

Bury My Heart at the Visitor Center [essay]

Drama, Romantic Comedy, Social Satire, Tribute

Oh god, Annie

October 13, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 11, 2025)

I have to say…not a big fan of the circle of life lately.

Diane Keaton has died. She was 79.

PEOPLE can confirm the legendary actress died in California on Saturday, Oct. 11. “There are no further details available at this time, and her family has asked for privacy in this moment of great sadness,” a spokesperson tells PEOPLE.

Keaton rose to fame in the 1970s thanks to her role in The Godfather films and her collaborations with director Woody Allen. She won an Oscar for Best Actress for 1977’s Annie Hall. Her long career included movies like The First Wives Club, multiple collaborations with director Nancy Meyers and the Book Club franchise.

The actress was born in Los Angeles in 1946 as Diane Hall, and was the oldest of four children. Her father was a civil engineer, while her mom stayed at home. […]

Keaton performed in plays in high school, and after graduating in 1964, she pursued drama in college. But she soon dropped out and moved to New York to try to make her way in theater. She took her mother’s maiden name, Keaton, for her professional name, because there was already a Diane Hall registered with Actors’ Equity. […]

Her film debut was in 1970’s Lovers and Other Strangers, but her big break came when Francis Ford Coppola cast her as Kay Adams, the girlfriend of Al Pacino’s Michael Corleone, in The Godfather, released in 1972. The movie was based on the novel by Mario Puzo but Keaton didn’t read the bestseller before her audition and didn’t really know what the film was about.

“I think the kindest thing that someone’s ever done for me … is that I got cast to be in The Godfather and I didn’t even read it. I didn’t know a single thing,” she told PEOPLE in 2022. “I just was going around auditioning. I think that was amazing for me. And then I had to kind of read the book.” […]

Looking back on her career, Keaton told PEOPLE in 2019, “I don’t know anything, and I haven’t learned. Getting older hasn’t made me wiser. Without acting I would have been a misfit.”

Keaton never married. “Today I was thinking, I’m the only one in my generation of actresses who has been a single woman all her life,” she explained to PEOPLE in 2019. “I’m really glad I didn’t get married. I’m an oddball. I remember in high school, this guy came up to me and said, ‘One day you’re going to make a good wife.’ And I thought, ‘I don’t want to be a wife. No.’”

I’m taking this one personally. Frankly, I don’t know where to start. She was in so many of the films that formed me as a cineaste. I was weaned on the New Hollywood, and she was one of the key players. For all you youngsters in the audience…what is this “New Hollywood” I speak of, you may ask? In a 2017 essay about the demise of neighborhood movie theaters, I wrote:

Some of my fondest memories of the movie-going experience involve neighborhood theaters; particularly during a 3-year period of my life (1979-1982) when I was living in San Francisco. But I need to back up for a moment. I had moved to the Bay Area from Fairbanks, Alaska, which was not the ideal environment for a movie buff. At the time I moved from Fairbanks, there were only two single-screen movie theaters in town. To add insult to injury, we were usually several months behind the Lower 48 on first-run features (it took us nearly a year to even get Star Wars).

Keep in mind, there was no cable service in the market, and VCRs were a still a few years down the road. There were occasional midnight movie screenings at the University of Alaska, and the odd B-movie gem on late night TV (which we had to watch in real time, with 500 commercials to suffer through)…but that was it. Sometimes, I’d gather up a coterie of my culture vulture pals for the 260-mile drive to Anchorage, where there were more theaters for us to dip our beaks into.

Consequently, due to the lack of venues, I was reading more about movies, than watching them. I remember poring over back issues of The New Yorker at the public library, soaking up Penelope Gilliat and Pauline Kael; but it seemed requisite to live in NYC (or L.A.) to catch all these cool art-house and foreign movies they were raving about (most of those films just didn’t make it out up to the frozen tundra). And so it was that I “missed” a lot of 60s and 70s cinema.

Needless to say, when I moved to San Francisco, which had a plethora of fabulous neighborhood theaters in 1979, I quickly set about making up the deficit. While I had a lot of favorite haunts (The Surf, The Balboa, The Castro, and the Red Victorian loom large in my memory), there were two venerable (if a tad dodgy) downtown venues in particular where I spent an unhealthy amount of time in the dank and the dark with snoring bums who used the auditoriums as a $2 flop: The Roxie and The Strand.

That’s because they were “repertory” houses; meaning they played older films (frequently double and triple bills, usually curated by some kind of theme). That 3 years I spent in the dark was my film school; that’s how I got caught up with Francis Ford Coppola, Stanley Kubrick, Martin Scorsese, Robert Altman, Hal Ashby, Terrence Malick, Woody Allen, Sidney Lumet, Peter Bogdanovich, Werner Herzog, Ken Russell, Lindsay Anderson, Wim Wenders, Michael Ritchie, Brian De Palma, etc.

Keaton has been a fixture in my film universe since 1972, the year I saw my first ‘R’-rated feature at age 16. That film was, of course, The Godfather. I’d like to be able to brag that I was able to “sneak in”, but this was a military base (Theater #1 at Fort Wainwright, Alaska) so I had to be accompanied by a parent or guardian; hence I tagged along with my best bud and his parents.

However, it wasn’t until 5 years later that I became truly smitten with Keaton, thanks to her star-making turn in Woody Allen’s classic romantic comedy Annie Hall (I mean…who didn’t?)

Effortless charm. It wasn’t until after I saw Annie Hall in 1977 that I discovered Allen’s “earlier, funny” films with Keaton. One of my favorites from this period is his satire Sleeper:

Someone once famously observed regarding another screen partnership: “Sure [Fred Astaire] was great, but don’t forget that Ginger Rogers did everything he did…backwards and in high heels.” While she and Allen are not dancing, per se in that particular scene from Sleeper, Keaton holds her own with skillful comic timing (physical comedy is a dance of sorts).

Another gem from this period is Love and Death (1975). I love Keaton’s line delivery here:

Keaton knocked it out of the park again with her performance in Manhattan (1979).

Of course, Keaton’s career cannot be defined solely by her work with Allen, nor be relegated to playing a series of kooky and lovable characters. She proved herself to be a fine dramatic actor as well. She directed several films, including the unique 1987 documentary Heaven (tough to track down, but a recommended watch). She also explored other horizons as a creative artist, e.g. she published a book of still photography in 1980 called Reservations.

More “oddballs” the caliber of Diane Keaton, please. She will be missed.

Here are some more recommendations:

Looking for Mr. Goodbar – Considering that she was still basking in the critical accolades for her audience-pleasing Oscar-winning performance as the kooky and lovable Annie Hall, it was a bold career move for Diane Keaton to immediately follow it up with a leap into the relative darkness of Looking for Mr. Goodbar.

Writer-director Richard Brooks adapted his 1977 drama/neo-noir from a novel by Judith Rossner (which was based on the sensationalized real-life 1973 murder of a 28-year old NYC schoolteacher). Keaton gives an outstanding performance as a young woman with a repressive Catholic upbringing who moves to a seedy downtown apartment to escape the verbal abuse and restrictive rules laid down by her tyrannical father (Richard Kiley).

Her newfound sense of freedom and self-confidence sparks a sexual awakening; she soon slips into a double-life, teaching deaf children at an inner-city school by day, and cruising the singles bars at night looking for casual sex (and discovering recreational drugs along the way). When she begins juggling relationships with two men (Richard Gere and William Atherton), her life begins to take a darker turn. Tuesday Weld gives one of her best performances as Keaton’s sister.

The film divided critics at the time; some were upset at Brooks’ deviation from Rossner’s novel (I can’t speak for that, as I’ve never read it). Others appeared chagrined that the film (for them at least) lacked a moral center. Speaking as someone who turned 21 the year the film came out, I’d say it captures the zeitgeist of the “Me Decade” to a tee; I see it as a companion piece to John Badham’s Saturday Night Fever.

Play it Again, Sam – I don’t know what it is about this particular Woody Allen vehicle (directed by Herbert Ross), but no matter how many times I have viewed it, I laugh just as hard at all the one-liners as I did the first time I saw it. Annie Hall and Manhattan may be his most highly lauded and artistically accomplished projects, but for pure “laughs per minute”, I would nominate this 1972 entry, with a screenplay adapted by Allen from his own original stage version.

Allen plays a film buff with a Humphrey Bogart obsession. He fantasizes he’s getting pointers from Bogie’s ghost (played to perfection by Jerry Lacy) who advises him on how to “be a man” and attract the perfect mate. He gets more pragmatic assistance from his best friends, a married couple (Diane Keaton and Tony Roberts) who fix him up with a series of women (the depictions of the various dating disasters are hilarious beyond description). A classic.

Shoot the Moon– Be forewarned: Alan Parker’s 1982 drama about the deterioration of a marriage pulls no punches (it is right out as a “date night” movie). Albert Finney co-stars with Diane Keaton as a couple with four kids whose marriage is about to go kaput. As in Kramer vs. Kramer, the film essentially opens with the split, and then focuses on the immediate emotional aftershocks and its profound impact on all family members. Absolutely heartbreaking, but beautifully acted by a skilled cast that includes Karen Allen, Peter Weller, and Dana Hill. Bo Goldman scripted, and Michael Seresin’s cinematography is lovely (the Marin County environs almost becomes a character itself).

Reds – It’s a testament to Warren Beatty’s conviction and legendary powers of persuasion that he was able to convince a major Hollywood studio to back a 3 ½ hour biopic about a relatively obscure American Communist (who is buried in the Kremlin, no less). As we know now, of course, this 1981 film turned out to be a critical success, and garnered a dozen Oscar nominations (it won three, including Best Director).

Diane Keaton turns in one of her best performances as Reed’s lover, writer and feminist Louise Bryant. Maureen Stapleton earned a Best Supporting Actress trophy with her portrayal of activist Emma Goldman. Jack Nicholson is perfect as the mercurial playwright Eugene O’Neill. Beatty assembled an amazing group of surviving participants, whose anecdotal recollections are interwoven throughout, like a Greek Chorus of living history.

Memorable scene here:

Also recommended:

Interiors

The Little Drummer Girl

Crimes of the Heart

Baby Boom

Something’s Gotta Give

On Politics

404 Terror

October 6, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on October 4, 2025)

I’m sure you’ve heard that the Eye of Sauron is now fixated on the Pacific Northwest:

Images of the mayhem have been pouring in all week:

Sorry…I should have prefaced with a trigger warning for sensitive viewers. My bad.

As a Seattle resident, I’m concerned my city could be next; particularly considering the anarchy permeating the mean streets of the Wallingford neighborhood where I live:

Then again, as evidenced in that hard-hitting report, local law enforcement has the situation in hand. Hopefully, cooler heads in the Trump administration will prevail. Oh, dear:

OK. Sure-that’s tough talk and all, but they are going to at least need a pretext before sending the troops to Seattle, yes? Oh, crap:

There’s such a fine line between the right to bear arms and the right to name bears.

On a more serious note, it is concerning that the Trump administration has been playing so fast and loose with the definition of “domestic terrorism”. In our current political climate, one person’s “activist” is another person’s “terrorist”, and vice-versa. For example, I’m old enough to remember earlier this year, when Attorney General Pam Bondi described Tesla vandalism as “nothing short of domestic terrorism” and vowed to “impose severe consequences on those involved in these attacks, including those operating behind the scenes to coordinate and fund these crimes”. That’s like, her opinion, man…but in my view, vandalizing a Tesla is…vandalism; however, if you purposely plow said Tesla into a crowd, that’s terrorism.

For reasons that hopefully become clear, I’m re-posting my review of the 2011 documentary, If a Tree Falls:

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on July 23, 2011)

A (not so) clear-cut case: If a Tree Falls ***

In the mid-90s, I worked at a Honeybaked Ham store in the Seattle area (don’t ask). Normally, I wouldn’t bring that up, but…funny story. Well, not “ha-ha” funny, but it does tie in with this week’s review.

Because you see, that was when I had my personal brush with “eco-terrorism”. I came to work one day, and espied a couple of Redmond’s finest standing outside the store, talking to the manager. Then I noticed interesting new artwork adorning the windows, writ large in dried ketchup and barbecue sauce: MEAT IS MURDER! It was signed “E.L.F.”. Apparently, several other restaurants down the street had also been hit (McDonald’s had had their locks glued shut).

So, as I was scrubbing to remove the graffiti, I wondered “Who is this ‘ELF’ …a disgruntled Keebler employee?” I had never heard of the Earth Liberation Front. I remember the manager saying “How much you want to bet this guy fled the scene in leather Nikes?” “Yeah,” I snickered, whilst contemplating the dried globs of Heinz 57 on my sponge “these suburban anarchists aren’t exactly the Baader-Meinhof Gang, are they?” (I can’t say that I felt “terrorized”).

Flash forward to 2001. I turned on the local news one night, and saw the UW Center for Urban Horticulture engulfed in flames ($7 million in damage). The arson was attributed to the E.L.F. “Hmm,” I pondered, “maybe they are sort of like the Baader-Meinhof Gang, ”

Or are they? According to the FBI, “Eco-terrorism” is defined as:

The use (or threatened use) of violence of a criminal nature against people or property by an environmentally oriented, sub-national group for environmental-political reasons, or aimed at an audience beyond the target, often of a symbolic nature.

That certainly covers a lot of ground. One could argue that Johnny Appleseed was an Eco-terrorist. Sure, he’s a legendary conservationist and agrarian icon. However, he was against grafting, which resulted in a fruit more suitable for hard cider than for eating. Hence, the “environmentally-oriented” Appleseed was “responsible” for introducing alcohol to the frontier. And it’s inarguable that much “violence of a criminal nature against people or property” is committed under the influence. OK, that’s a stretch .

Then again, there are a number of “environmentally-oriented” types doing a “a stretch” in the federal pen right now for non-lethal actions that the government considers terrorism, and that others consider heroic. This is not a black and white issue; a point not lost on the directors of If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front.

So what type of circumstance can change a nature lover into a freedom fighter? Anyone can make a statement by holding up a sign or throwing on a “Save the Rainforest” t-shirt, but what motivates someone who decides to take it to the next level-throwing on a Ninja outfit and torching a lumber mill in the middle of the night? And what would they hope to achieve? Wouldn’t that just encourage corporations to cut down even more trees to replace lost inventory?

In order to convey a sense of the humanity behind the mug shots, co-directors Marshall Curry and Sam Cullman focus primarily on Earth Liberation Front member Daniel McGowan, who at the time of filming was facing a possible life sentence for his direct involvement in several high-profile “actions” (including the arson of an Oregon lumber mill) that resulted in millions of dollars in property damage. Holed up in his sister’s NYC apartment (and sporting a house arrest anklet for the first third of the film), McGowan candidly opens up about his life and what led him to change his own M.O. for making a statement from “environmental activism” to “domestic terrorism”.

The filmmakers parallel the timeline and details of McGowan’s personal journey with a study about the development of the E.L.F., adding present day interviews with his cohorts and archival footage of some of the group’s early “actions” (which were more in the realm of civil disobedience and passive resistance-like sitting in the path of bulldozers and camping out in old-growth trees marked for cutting). McGowan initially became involved with the environmental movement through “mainstream” activities, like “writing hundreds of letters” of protest and participating in peaceful demonstrations.

McGowan became frustrated with what he perceived to be the ineffectiveness of such actions. He sums it up with a rhetorical question: “When you’re screaming at the top of your lungs, and nobody hears you, what are you supposed to do?”

The tipping point for McGowan came in 1999, when he participated in the WTO protests in Seattle. There, through some of the more radicalized E.L.F. members, he became embedded with the relatively small band of black-clad “anarchists” who were disproportionately responsible for most of the property damage that occurred during the demonstrations (the majority of participants made a point after the fact to disassociate themselves from the anarchists).

From there, it was a relatively small jump to the more extreme acts that would lead to his eventual arrest and prosecution (he agreed to a “non-cooperation” plea deal that saved him from life in prison but still saddled him with 7 years and a “terrorism enhancement”).

The filmmakers give equal screen time to some of the law enforcement officials and prosecutors who made the case against McGowan and his associates. Although no one was ever injured or killed as a result of E.L.F. activity (astounding considering that there were approximately 1,200 “actions” perpetrated by the group during their heyday), there are still victims; and some of them appear on camera as well to offer their perspective.

Were these people “terrorists”? You almost have to get back to defining “what is a terrorist?” Or in this case, who are the real terrorists? One interviewee offers this: “95% of the native American forests have been cut down. Trying to save the remaining 5% is ‘radical’?” That’s a valid question. McGowan himself seems to be arguing (in so many words) that in a post 9-11 world, people have a tendency to make a “rush to judgment” without considering the alternate point of view (he suggests that the word “terrorist” has supplanted “Communist” as the demagogue’s dog whistle of choice).

I wonder if the filmmakers intend McGowan’s story to be a litmus test for the viewer (how far out on the limb would you be willing to go for your personal convictions?) If so, that’s a tough one. Part of me identifies with Daniel McGowan the environmentally-conscious idealist; but I don’t think I can quite get behind Daniel McGowan the criminal arsonist. For now, I’m just content to keep recycling and doing my part to think “glocal”. And in case you’re wondering…I haven’t stepped foot inside a Honeybaked Ham store since I quit working there 14 years ago. Those murderous bastards.

Drama, On Music, Rock 'n' Roll

Blu-ray reissue: Slade in Flame (***)

September 29, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on September 27, 2025)

Slade in Flame (BFI; Region ‘B’ only)

Akin to Mott the Hoople, it may be arguable among music geeks as to whether Slade was truly “glam” (they were a bit on the “blokey” side- as the Brits would say), but they are nonetheless considered so in some circles, and this 1974 film was released during the heyday of space boots and glitter, so there you go.

The directorial debut for Richard Loncraine (Brimstone and Treacle, The Missionary, Richard III) the film is a gritty, semi-biographical “behind the music” drama (don’t expect A Hard Day’s Night) about a working-class band called Flame (suspiciously resembling the four members of Slade, wink-wink) who get chewed up and spit out of the star-making machine (this just in: managers and A & R people are back-stabbing weasels).

It’s admittedly not a genre masterpiece, but the film is bolstered by a great soundtrack (all Slade originals, naturally) and the casting of Tom Conti (playing a soulless record exec with great aplomb). An amusing scene where lead singer Noddy Holder’s character gets locked into a stage coffin presages a similar hardware malfunction depicted in This Is Spinal Tap. Another memorable scene has the band risking life and limb to access the broadcast booth for an on-air interview at an offshore pirate radio station (the story is set in the late 60s).

BFI’s 2025 remastered Blu-ray edition is a vast improvement over Shout! Factory’s 2004 DVD, in both image and sound quality. Extras include a newly recorded audio commentary with the director and film critic Mark Kermode, a new 9-minute interview with Tom Conti, a 54-minute 2002 interview with Noddy Holder, and more. Note: Requires an all-region player.

Drama, On Music, Rock 'n' Roll

Blu-ray reissue: Breaking Glass (***1/2)

September 29, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on September 27, 2025)

Breaking Glass (Fun City Editions)

Released on the cusp of the Thatcher era, writer-director Brian Gibson’s 1980 film is a No Wave take on A Star is Born, with a nod to the classic UK kitchen sink dramas of the 1960s. 26 year-old singer-songwriter Hazel O’Connor delivers a naturalistic performance as a disenfranchised young gas station attendant who aspires to be a rock star…but strictly on her own terms. To wit, the lyrics she furiously scribbles into her notebook are not exactly “moon-June” love sonnets; take “Big Brother”, for instance:

They’ll tear out your heart, throw it knee-deep in a cart
Cause that’s what they do with the scum like me and you
And you feel as if you died, whilst you’re standing on the line
And you wonder all the time why can’t you cry?
But the people in control don’t care for you
They are just a robot with a job to do
And when your used, exhausted, they’ll be rid of you
As soon as look at you, go to the back of the queue!

Not destined to be a chart-climber, that one. Despite the ridicule and sexism she constantly weathers, she eventually gets the attention of a street-hustling manager (Phil Daniels) who sees her potential and helps her put a decent band together (including a young Jonathan Pryce on sax). However, when she lands a recording contract, the inevitable compromises begin once a more seasoned, smooth-talking (and weaselly) industry exec (Jon Finch) begins to wrest control of her career (let the eternal battle between Art and Commerce commence).

O’Connor does her own singing (she also co-wrote the songs with soundtrack producer Tony Visconti). I see the film as a companion piece to Lou Adler’s 1981 Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains and Gillian Armstrong’s 1982 rock musical Starstruck (I wrote about both films here).

Fun City’s 2025 edition is a bit light on extras, but boasts a long-overdue restoration, improved audio, and (most notably) reinstates the original UK cut (the previous Olive Films reissue was not restored, and featured the U.S. cut, which is 10 minutes shorter).

Cult Movie, Mockumentary, On Music, Rock 'n' Roll

Blu-ray reissue: This is Spinal Tap (****)

September 29, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on September 27, 2025)

This is Spinal Tap (The Criterion Collection)

“May I start by saying how thrilled we are to have you here. We are such fans of your music and all of your records. I’m not speaking of yours personally, but the whole genre of the rock and roll.”

– Lt. Hooksratten (played by Fred Williard), from This is Spinal Tap

Has it really been 41 years since one of the loudest English bands that never lived set off to “tap into America” on their imaginary comeback tour? (Checks calendar) Yes, that tracks. Director Rob Reiner co-wrote this 1984 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.

Third time’s a charm for Criterion, who released previous editions on LaserDisc and DVD. The label does their usual voodoo with a sparkling new 4K transfer (supervised and approved by director Reiner) and 5.1 Surround DTS MasterAudio (“Big Bottom”, “Hell Hole”, and “Sex Farm” have never sounded so…robust).

Extras include an engaging conversation between Rob Reiner and Spinal Tap superfan Patton Oswalt, three audio commentaries, media appearances, trailers, and music videos. The 90 minutes of outtakes is a real treat for fans of the film; when you see the quality of what ended up on the cutting room floor, you marvel even more at the cast’s improvisational skills (Reiner had 100 hours of footage to pare down).

On Music

Wet boots and rain: An autumn mixtape

September 22, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on September 20, 2025)

I raked the leaves on our front lawn
It took all afternoon.
I started at ‘round half-past one
and said, “I’ll be done soon.”

But once I saw how more leaves fell
Each time I made a pile,
I quickly saw this outdoor chore
Was going to take a while.

And so I did what my dad said
A winner does to win:
I studied that great pile of leaves,
And then I jumped right in.

– “Raking Leaves”, children’s poem by Shel Silverstein

*sigh* Is nothing sacred anymore in our increasingly myopic universe?

As hordes of photographers began descending on a small, rural community to capture its vibrant autumnal colours, local residents have been fighting back – and winning.

To enter the town of Pomfret, located in the US state of Vermont, is to be instantly struck by its bucolic beauty. From the north, Howe Hill Road winds downhill in a series of gentle curves, each sweep revealing verdant farm fields dotted with sheep, or swaths of forest in which the red and orange autumn leaves cling to boughs. At one home, a tree heavy with apples bends over a meticulously maintained stone wall, its slate top filled with decaying fruit.

But come early autumn, more than half of the cars driving through this 900-person town will sport out-of-state license plates, coming to abrupt stops on a road with a 45-mile-per-hour speed limit, blocking one of two lanes. The reason? To take a picture of a farm’s silo against a backdrop of autumn leaves.

With a mere handful of businesses – a general mercantile store, an art centre with a gallery and a theatre and a few pick-your-own apple or pumpkin farms – Pomfret is generally a quiet, unassuming place. But in autumn as “leaf-peepers” from around the world descend on the region’s rolling hills and fetching small towns to witness its kaleidoscopic foliage, that all changes.

Until recently, the number of leaf-peepers visiting Pomfret was more trickle than torrent. But ever since images of Sleepy Hollow Farm, a 115-acre private property set on a rustic road, began going viral on social media a few years ago, locals say things have gotten out of hand. […]

“It’s a beautiful spot. It’s too bad it’s been ruined for everybody,” said Deborah Goodwin, the exhibits coordinator at Pomfret’s Artistree Community Arts Center. “[For] the past couple years it’s been out of control. Tour buses were just dumping… people out there.”

Goodwin says social media influencers would regularly climb over a gate plastered with “No Trespassing” signs, set up changing booths to accommodate their many costume swaps, get their “city cars” stuck on the narrow dirt road, and leave bodily waste by the roadside. “It was bad,” she recalled. “The residents went to the [local government] and said, ‘We can’t have this anymore.’”

During the 2022 leaf-peeping season, law enforcement temporarily turned the road past Sleepy Hollow into a one-way thoroughfare. It wasn’t enough to deter tourists from behaving badly. In 2023, local residents tried a different approach: crowdsourced funding. […]

As a result, town officials voted to close the roads leading to the farm during the peak fall foliage season (23 September to 15 October) to non-residents, spurring the ire of travellers who had driven to the area in hopes of capturing a perfectly curated autumn photo.

“It’s a hotel and amusement park,” scoffed one Instagrammer with 153,000 followers. “Bring all your friends and RVs.”

Most Pomfret residents stressed that they’re not anti-tourist; they simply want people to treat their hometown with respect. Even more concerning than issues of private property, several mentioned, are safety concerns for the residents of Cloudland Road, as well as the tourists themselves.

According to Windsor County Sheriff Ryan Palmer, “This is not a road that’s designed to have multiple vehicles on it. [In 2021 and 2022] there were lines of traffic parked up and down the roadway, and you couldn’t get fire apparatus or an ambulance through. It was just overwhelming the infrastructure in the area.” […]

Palmer hopes that the Pomfret drama is a “one-and-done” deal. Residents have floated the idea of creating a reservation or ticketing system for visits to Sleepy Hollow to help manage the tourist rush in a more responsible way, but as far as he knows, that option isn’t under serious consideration. In fact: feedback on the traffic pattern changes implemented in 2023 has been largely positive, leading to the Pomfret Selectboard’s decision to implement similar road closures for the imminent 2024 foliage season.

Very bucolic, but I’m happy to simply enjoy the photo; I don’t feel an urge to drive several thousand miles just to snap a selfie. As Roy Neary says in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, “You think I investigate every Walter Cronkite story there is?!”

As another character in Close Encounters observes, “Einstein was right”. Each year passes faster than the previous. Per Pink Floyd, You can run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking; racing around to come up behind you again. To wit…The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older; shorter of breath and one day closer to death.

Don’t you hate that?

Since this coming Monday’s Fall Equinox has raced around and come up behind us again, I thought I’d rake through my music collection and curate a pile of suitably autumnal tunes.

To follow Shel Silverstein’s lead…Let’s jump right in!

“Autumn Almanac” – The Kinks

Released as a single in the UK in 1967, Ray Davies’ fond sense memory of the Muswell Hill neighborhood of North London where he grew up recalls The Beatles’ “Penny Lane”.

From the dew-soaked hedge creeps a crawly caterpillar
When the dawn begins to crack
It’s all part of my autumn almanac

Breeze blows leaves of a musty-coloured yellow
So I sweep them in my sack
Yes, yes, yes, it’s my autumn almanac

“Autumn Leaves” -Jim Hall & Ron Carter

Lovely instrumental cover of Joeseph Kosma & Jacques Prevert’s classic (originally popularized by Yves Montand in Marcel Carné’s 1946 film noir Les Portes de la Nuit) performed live by two jazz greats-Jim Hall (guitar) and Ron Carter (stand-up bass).

“The Boys of Summer” – Don Henley

I suppose one could make a case either way as to whether Don Henley’s 1984 hit qualifies as a “summer song” or an “autumn song”. Here’s my gauge: generally speaking, upbeat and celebratory is a summer mood; wistful and introspective is autumnal.

Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer’s out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
I’m driving by your house
Though I know you’re not home

“Falling” – Joe Vitale

Joe Vitale was a key member of Joe Walsh’s first post-James Gang band Barnstorm. In addition to contributing drums, flute, keyboards and vocals, Vitale also co-wrote some of the songs. This cut is from his outstanding debut solo album, Roller Coaster Weekend (1974).

“Forever Autumn” – Justin Hayward

This lovely tune, featuring a lead vocal by Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues was a highlight of Jeff Wayne’s 1978 double LP rock musical adaptation of H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds.

“Harvest Moon” – Neil Young

This is the title track from Young’s eponymous 1992 LP (a sort of sequel to 1972’s Harvest), which won a Juno award (Canada’s equivalent to a Grammy) for Album of the Year.

“Indian Summer” -Dream Academy

The Dream Academy’s most wistful and transporting song is best appreciated with a good set of headphones. Drift away…

It was the time of year just after the summer’s gone
When August and September just become memories of songs
To be put away with the summer clothes
And packed up in the attic for another year
We had decided to stay on for a few weeks more
Although the season was over now the days were still warm
And seemed reluctant to five up and hand over to winter for another year

“Inner Garden I” – King Crimson

Contrary to what you may assume, not every track by this venerable prog-rock outfit takes up half an album side; some of their best compositions say all they need to say with surprising brevity.

Autumn has come to rest in her garden
Come to paint the trees with emptiness
And no pardon
So many things have come undone
Like the leaves on the ground
And suddenly she begins to cry
But she doesn’t know why…

“The Last Day of Summer” – The Cure

Technically, you have until this Monday, September 22 at 11:19 am PDT to enjoy the last day of Summer…but close enough for rock ‘n’ roll.

But the last day of summer
Never felt so cold
The last day of summer
Never felt so old

“Leaf and Stream” – Wishbone Ash

This compelling, melancholic track is sandwiched between a couple of epic rockers on the Ash’s best album, 1972’s Argus (which I wrote about here).

Find myself beside a stream of empty thought,
Like a leaf that’s fallen to the ground,
And carried by the flow of water to my dreams
Woken only by your sound.

“Leaves in the Wind” -Back Street Crawler

Back Street Crawler was a short-lived group formed in 1975 by guitarist Paul Kossoff after he left Free. Sadly, by the time 2nd Street was released in 1976, Kossoff was dead at 25 (lending additional poignancy to his mournful guitar fills on this track).

“Moondance”– Van Morrison

The evocative title track from Morrison’s 1970 album is one of his signature tunes.

Well, it’s a marvelous night for a moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
‘Neath the cover of October skies

“November” -Tom Waits

This song is a tad unsettling, yet oddly beautiful. Not unlike Waits’ voice. Dig the theremin.

No shadow
No stars
No moon
No care
November
It only believes
In a pile of dead leaves
And a moon
That’s the color of bone

“October”-U2

Sporting naught but two short verses, this was an uncharacteristically minimalist arrangement for U2 at this stage of their career (from the band’s eponymous 1981 album).

October
And the trees are stripped bare
Of all they wear
What do I care?

October
And kingdoms rise
And kingdoms fall
But you go on
And on

“Ramble On”-Led Zeppelin

Arguably the One Autumnal Song to Rule Them All, with all its wistfulness and stirrings of wanderlust. Only don’t try to make any sense of the Gollum reference-it’ll make you crazy.

Leaves are falling all around
It’s time I was on my way
Thanks to you I’m much obliged
For such a pleasant stay
But now it’s time for me to go
The autumn moon lights my way
For now I smell the rain
And with it pain
And it’s headed my way…

“September” – Earth, Wind, & Fire

Well of course I remember “the 21st of September”…it’s today’s date, fergawdsake! Sheesh. One of EWF’s biggest hits, it reached #1 on the Billboard charts in 1978. Ba-dee-yah.

“September Gurls” – Big Star

Founded in 1971 by singer-guitarist Chris Bell and ex-Box Tops singer/guitarist Alex Chilton, Big Star is one of the seminal power pop bands, and this is one of their most defining songs.

“Summer’s Almost Gone” – The Doors

From the Doors’ 1968 album Waiting For the Sun. Haunting, with Jim Morrison in fine form.

Morning found us calmly unaware
Noon burn gold into our hair
At night, we swim the laughin’ sea
When summer’s gone
Where will we be?

“Time of No Reply” – Nick Drake

Gone much too soon, his sad short life was as enigmatic as the amazing catalog he left behind.

Summer was gone and the heat died down
And Autumn reached for her golden crown
I looked behind as I heard a sigh
But this was the time of no reply

The sun went down and the crowd went home
I was left by the roadside all alone
I turned to speak as they went by
But this was the time of no reply

“Urge for Going”– Joni Mitchell

You thought I forgot this one, didn’t you? Luck of the alphabet. It feels redundant to label any Joni Mitchell song as “genius”, but it’s hard to believe this came from the pen of a 22 year-old.

I awoke today and found the frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky, then it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
And all trees are shivering in a naked row
I get the urge for going but I never seem to go
I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown

Tribute

What do we do now? RIP Robert Redford

September 17, 2025 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on September 16, 2025)

Getting old sucks. The reasons for that are myriad; not least of which is watching the icons of your youth diminish and go into the West (forgive the Tolkien reference).

Yes, Robert Redford was 89 years old, which doesn’t make news of his passing a complete shocker, but this one hurts (hurts even more these days to lose the good people).

He was “a movie star” in a traditional Hollywood sense; gifted by the gods with matinee-idol looks, which he viewed as a curse of sorts. He demonstrated that he was more than just a pretty face with a lifetime of off-screen philanthropy and activism. Still, it could be a tricky juggling act. From The Hollywood Reporter:

Behind the California-kid surface was a darker and more complicated figure. The very definition of a Hollywood star, he nonetheless saw himself as an outsider and spent much of his time living away from the epicenters of the industry — including at the Utah skiing resort that he turned into the Sundance Institute and the Sundance Film Festival.

He bestrode two worlds, his biographer, Michael Feeney Callan, wrote in 2011: “His life [was] peripatetic. He engaged [in] careers on the East Coast and West. It may not be a coincidence that his arts laboratory — his ‘great experiment’ [Sundance] is not too many miles from Promontory Summit, where, in 1869, the golden spike was hammered that joined the East Coast and West on the transcontinental railroad.”

[…]

He became a passionate environmentalist and supporter of Native American and LGBTQ rights and remained that way throughout his life. In 2018, he published on the Sundance website a lament about the state of America titled, “A Brief Statement About Big Things.”

That’s why the tributes are not coming solely from members of the film industry. New Mexico’s Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham issued this statement earlier today:

I join all New Mexicans in mourning the loss of Robert Redford, whose deep connection to our state left an indelible mark on its cultural and environmental landscape.

Redford’s 1988 film “The Milagro Beanfield War,” filmed in Truchas, captured the heart of New Mexico’s rural Hispanic communities with authentic dignity. The story of ordinary people standing up to powerful interests accurately reflected our state’s values and history. As executive producer of AMC’s popular “Dark Winds” television series, Redford similarly captured New Mexico’s culture in an authentic manner. In 2010, Redford launched a workshop for training Hispanic and Native American filmmakers at Los Luceros in Espanola.

Redford was also a powerhouse advocate for New Mexico’s film tax credit program, helping to spread the word across the film industry about New Mexico’s spectacular landscapes, rich culture, and committed workforce as major assets to filmmakers. His advocacy helped transform New Mexico into a major filmmaking destination, bringing economic opportunities to communities statewide.

As a part-time Santa Fe resident and lifelong environmental champion, Redford understood that New Mexico’s natural beauty required protection. His conservation efforts aligned with our state’s environmental consciousness and commitment to preserving New Mexico’s majestic high desert landscapes.

Redford elevated New Mexican voices to the national stage, showing the world the depth and complexity of our communities. He used his influence to illuminate the authentic stories of the people he chose to call neighbors.

His legacy endures in every film that honors New Mexico’s stories, in his conservation work that protects our landscapes, and in the tradition of artists who understand that great art serves both beauty and truth.

Robert Redford will be remembered as an artist, activist, and friend to New Mexico.

Just another one of those busybody Hollywood Lefties.

As for his film legacy…the work speaks for itself. When I was 13, I became a lifelong Redford fan when (like many of my generation, I’d wager) I first became aware of him in a little “buddy movie” you may have heard of. As I wrote in my 2008 tribute to Paul Newman:

As I was getting ready to go work out at my health club early this morning, I was flipping through the cable channels, and came across “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid”. (I hadn’t heard the news yet). It’s one of those personal favorites that I always get sucked into, no matter what scene I happen upon.

In this case, I tuned in just as Butch, Sundance and Etta were disembarking at the train station in Bolivia. I love that scene (“Aw…he’ll feel a lot better after he’s robbed a couple of banks!”). So there I sat, giggling as if it wasn’t the 250th time I’d watched the film, for 15 minutes before I realized, “Oh yeah, I was just headed out the door.”

Redford doesn’t have a lot of lines there, yet he nearly steals the whole scene with a smile and a wave. Now that’s charisma. Not unlike Newman, Redford was one of those actors who made it all look so easy; you couldn’t detect the “method”, as it were. He “inhabited” his characters, and you never doubted that you were observing a real flesh-and-blood human being up on that screen.

Redford proved to be just as much of a natural working behind the camera; he picked up Best Director and Best Picture Oscars for his outstanding 1980 directing debut Ordinary People (also recommended: The Milagro Beanfield War, A River Runs Through It, and Quiz Show).

As for Redford’s acting roles, the two films you simply must see before you die are the aforementioned Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (directed by George Roy Hill) and Alan J. Pakula’s 1976 journalism thriller All the President’s Men. You also can’t go wrong with Stuart Rosenburg’s 1980 prison drama Brubaker, Barry Levinson’s 1984 baseball drama The Natural, and Sydney Pollack’s 1973 romantic drama The Way We Were. And for a sampling of Redford’s less-utilized comic chops…I recently saw Barefoot in the Park on TCM, Gene Saks’ 1967 adaptation of Neil Simon’s stage play; I hadn’t seen it in decades and had forgotten about the wonderful chemistry between Redford and Jane Fonda. It’s really a lot of fun.

And here are a few more of my Redford favorites. Rest easy, Sundance.

The Sting – George Roy Hill’s caper dramedy is pretty fluffy, but a lot of fun. Paul Newman and Robert Redford reunited with their Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid director in this 1973 star vehicle to play a pair of 1930s-era con men who set up the ultimate “sting” on a vicious mobster (Robert Shaw) who was responsible for the untimely demise of one their mutual pals.

The beauty of screenwriter David S. Ward’s clever construction is in how he conspiratorially draws the audience in to feel like are in on the elaborate joke…but then manages to prank us too…when we’re least expecting it! The film picked up Oscars for Best Picture, Director, Original Screenplay (David S. Ward), Art Direction, Costume Design, Film Editing, and Scoring. Redford was nominated for Best Actor.

The Candidate -This 1972 gem from Michael Ritchie (Downhill Racer, Prime Cut, Smile) centers on an activist lawyer named Bill McKay (Robert Redford) wooed by a slick Democratic political consultant (Peter Boyle) into challenging a three-term Republican California Senator for his congressional seat.

The idealistic and progressive McKay is initially reticent, as he does not want to be perceived as trading in on his family name (his father is a former governor). Assured that he can set his own agenda, say whatever he wants, and is almost guaranteed a victory due to the lack of Democratic challengers, McKay accepts the offer to run.

But you know what they say…if it sounds too good to be true, there’s usually a catch. In this case, it’s McKay’s realization that in the rough and tumble world of politics, the true path to victory is inevitably littered with a discarded ideal or two (compromise, compromise, compromise).

The perceptive, wryly satirical screenplay earned an Oscar for Jeremy Larner (his experience as a speechwriter for Eugene J. McCarthy on the Senator’s 1968 campaign undoubtedly contributed to the film’s air of authenticity). Redford and Boyle are outstanding, and ably supported by a wonderful ensemble that includes Melvyn Douglas, Don Porter, Allen Garfield, and Karen Carlson.

Three Days of The Condor – Sydney Pollack’s 1975 “conspiracy a go-go” thriller, which was adapted by Lorenzo Semple, Jr. and David Rayfiel from James Grady’s novel “Six Days of the Condor”, puts a unique twist on the idea of a government-sanctioned assassination; here, you have members of the U.S. clandestine community burning up your tax dollars to scheme against other members of the U.S. clandestine community (there’s no honor among conspirators, apparently). Robert Redford, Faye Dunaway, Cliff Robertson and Max von Sydow head an excellent cast. The film conveys the same dark atmosphere of dread that infuses The Conversation and The Parallax View.

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.

The Hot Rock– Although it starts out as a by-the-numbers diamond heist caper, this 1972 Peter Yates film delivers a unique twist halfway through: the diamond needs to be stolen all over again (so it’s back to the drawing board). There’s even a little political intrigue in the mix. The film boasts a William Goldman screenplay (adapted from a Donald E. Westlake novel) and a knockout cast (George Segal, Robert Redford Zero Mostel, Ron Leibman, Paul Sand and Moses Gunn). Redford and Segal make a great team, and the film finds a nice balance between suspense and humor.

Previous posts with related themes:

The Old Man and the Gun

The Conspirator

Lions for Lambs