Category Archives: Drama

Beds Are Burning: Top 10 Films for Indigenous Peoples Day

By Dennis Hartley

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

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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.

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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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).

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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.

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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,

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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.

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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.

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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]

 

Oh god, Annie

By Dennis Hartley

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

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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:

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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.

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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.

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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).https://i0.wp.com/digbysblog.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/reds.png?fit=1024%2C593&quality=80&ssl=1&resize=640%2C371&_jb=custom

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

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

By Dennis Hartley

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

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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.

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

By Dennis Hartley

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

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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).

Lazy, hazy, crazy: Top 10 Summer Idyll Films

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on July 12, 2025)

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Since it’s now officially summer, I thought it would be a good excuse to cull a list of my 10 seasonal favorites for your consideration. These would be films that I feel capture the essence of these “lazy, hazy, crazy” days; stories infused with the sights, the sounds, the smells, of summer. So, here you go…as per usual, in alphabetical order:

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Jazz on a Summer’s Day– Bert Stern’s groundbreaking documentary about the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival is not so much a “concert film” as it is a fascinating and colorful time capsule of late 50s American life. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of gorgeously filmed numbers spotlighting the artistry of Thelonius Monk, Anita O’Day, Dinah Washington, Louis Armstrong, etc. and the performances are outstanding.

The effect is like “being there” in 1958 Newport on a languid summer’s day. If you’ve ever attended an outdoor music festival, you know half the fun is people-watching, and Stern obliges. Stern breaks with film making conventions of the era; this is the genesis of the cinema verite music documentary, which wouldn’t come to full flower until a decade later with films like Don’t Look Back, Monterey Pop, Woodstock and Gimme Shelter.

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Last Summer– This underrated 1969 gem is from the husband-and-wife film making team of director Frank Perry and writer Eleanor Perry (who adapted from Evan Hunter’s novel).

On the surface, it’s a character study about three friends on the cusp of adulthood (Bruce Davison, Barbara Hershey and Richard Thomas) who develop a Jules and Jim-style relationship during an idyllic summer vacation on Fire Island. When a socially awkward stranger (Catherine Burns) bumbles into this simmering cauldron of raging hormones and burgeoning sexuality, it blows the lid off the pressure cooker, leading to unexpected twists. Think Summer of ’42 meets Lord of the Flies; I’ll leave it there.

Beautifully acted and directed. In 2022, Davison and Thomas appeared in Season 4 of the Netflix series Ozark (although they didn’t share any scenes).

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Mid-August Lunch– This slice-of-life charmer from Italy, set during the mid-August Italian public holiday known as Ferragosto, was written and directed by Gianni Di Gregorio (who also co-scripted the 2009 gangster drama Gomorra).

Di Gregorio casts himself as Giovanni, an easy-going middle-aged bachelor living in Rome with his elderly mother. He doesn’t work, because as he tells a friend, taking care of mama is his “job”.

One day, his landlord drops in. He wants to take a weekend excursion with his mistress and asks for a “small” favor. In exchange for forgiveness on back rent, he requests Giovanni take a house guest for the weekend-his elderly mother. Giovanni agrees, but is chagrined when the landlord turns up with two little old ladies (he hadn’t mentioned his aunt). Soon after, Giovanni’s doctor makes a house call; in lieu of a service charge he asks Giovanni if he doesn’t mind taking on his dear old mama as well (Ferragosto is a popular “getaway” holiday in Italy).

It’s the small moments that make this film such a delight. Giovanni reading Dumas aloud to his mother, until she quietly nods off in her chair. Two friends, sitting in the midday sun, enjoying white wine and watching the world go by. In a scene that reminded me of a classic sequence in Fellini’s Roma, Giovanni and his pal glide us through the streets of Rome on a sunny motorcycle ride. This mid-August lunch might offer you a limited menu, but you’ll find every morsel worth savoring.

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Mommy is at the Hairdresser’s- Set at the beginning of an idyllic Quebec summer, circa 1966, Lea Pool’s beautifully photographed drama centers around the suburban Gauvin family. A teenager (Marianne Fortier) and her little brothers are thrilled that school’s out for summer. Their loving parents appear to be the ideal couple; Mom (Celine Bonnier) is a TV journalist and Dad (Laurent Lucas) is a medical microbiologist. A marital infidelity precipitates a separation, leaving the kids in the care of their well-meaning but now titular father, and young Elise finds herself the de facto head of the family. This is a perfect film about an imperfect family; a bittersweet paean to the endless summers of childhood lost.

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Smiles of a Summer Night– “Lighthearted romp” and “Ingmar Bergman” are not normally synonymous, but it applies to this wise, drolly amusing morality tale from the director whose name is synonymous with somber dramas. Bergman regular Gunnar Bjornstrand heads a fine ensemble, as an amorous middle-aged attorney with a young wife (whose “virtue” remains intact) and a free-spirited mistress, who juggles a few lovers herself. As you may guess, this leads to amusing complications.

Love in all its guises is represented by a bevy of richly drawn characters, who converge in a third act set on a sultry summer’s eve at a country estate (the inspiration for Woody Allen’s A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy). Fast-paced, literate, and sensuous, it has a muted cry here and a whisper there of that patented Bergman “darkness”, but compared to most of his oeuvre, this one is a veritable screwball comedy.

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Stand By Me– Director Rob Reiner was on a roll in the mid-to late 80s, delivering five exceptional films, book-ended by This is Spinal Tap in 1984 and When Harry Met Sally in 1989. This 1986 dramedy was in the middle of the cycle. Based on a Stephen King novella (adapted by Raynold Gideon and Bruce A. Evans) it’s a bittersweet “end of summer” tale about four pals (Wil Wheaton, River Phoenix, Corey Feldman and Jerry O’Connell) who embark on a search for the body of a missing teenager, during the course of which they learn hard life lessons. Reiner coaxes extraordinary performances from the young leads, and Richard Dreyfus provides the narration.

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Summer Wars– Don’t be misled by the cartoon title of Mamoru Hosoda’s eye-popping movie-this could be the Gone with the Wind of Japanese anime. OK…that’s a tad hyperbolic. But it does have drama, romance, comedy, and war-centering around a summer gathering at a bucolic family estate. Tokyo Story meets War Games? At any rate, it’s one of the finer animes of recent years. While some narrative devices in Satoko Ohuder’s screenplay will feel familiar to anime fans (particularly the “cyber-punk” elements), it’s the humanist touches and subtle social observations (reminiscent of Yasujiro Ozu’s films) that makes it unique and worthwhile.

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A Summer’s Tale– It’s nearly 8 minutes into Eric Rohmer’s romantic comedy before anyone utters a word; and it’s a man calling a waitress over to order a chocolate crepe. But not to worry, because things are about to get much more interesting.

In fact, our young man, an introverted maths grad named Gaspar (Melvil Poupaud), who is killing time in sunny Dinard until his “sort of” girlfriend arrives to join him on summer holiday, will soon find himself in a dizzying girl whirl. It begins when he meets bubbly and outgoing Margo (Amanda Langlet) an ethnologist major who is spending her summer break waitressing at her aunt’s seaside creperie. Margo is also (sort of) spoken for, with a boyfriend (currently overseas). A friendship blooms. But will they stay “just friends”?

Originally released in France in 1996, this film (which didn’t make its official U.S. debut until 2014) rates among the late director’s best work (strongly recalling Pauline at the Beach, which starred a then teenage Langlet, who is wonderful here as the charming Margo).

In a way, this is a textbook “Rohmer film”, which I define as “a movie where the characters spend more screen time dissecting the complexities of male-female relationships than actually experiencing them”. Don’t despair; it won’t (as Gene Hackman’s character in Night Moves states regarding a Rohmer film) be akin to “watching paint dry”. Even a neophyte will glean the director’s ongoing influence (particularly if you’ve seen Once, When Harry Met Sally, or Richard Linklater’s “Before” trilogy).

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Tempest– “Show me the magic.” Nothing says “idyllic” like a Mediterranean getaway, which provides the backdrop for Paul Mazursky’s seriocomic 1982 update of Shakespeare’s classic play.

His Prospero is a harried Manhattan architect (John Cassavetes) who spontaneously quits his firm, abandons his wife (Gena Rowlands), packs up his teen daughter (Molly Ringwald) and retreats to a Greek island for an open-ended sabbatical. He soon adds a young lover (Susan Sarandon) and a Man Friday (Raul Julia) to his entourage. But will this idyll inevitably be steamrolled by the adage: “Wherever you go…there you are”?

The pacing lags a little bit on occasion, but superb performances, gorgeous scenery and bits of inspired lunacy (like a choreographed number featuring Julia and his sheep dancing to “New York, New York”) make up for it.

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3 Women– If Robert Altman’s haunting 1977 character study plays like a languid, sun-baked California fever dream…it’s because it was (the late director claimed that the story came to him in his sleep). What ended up on the screen not only represents Altman’s best, but one of the best American art films of the 1970s.

The women are Millie (Shelly Duvall), a chatty physical therapist, considered a needy bore by everyone except her childlike roommate/co-worker Pinky (Sissy Spacek), who worships the ground she walks on, and enigmatic Willie (Janice Rule), a pregnant artist who only paints anthropomorphic lizard figures (empty swimming pools as her canvas). As the three personas slowly merge (bolstered by fearless performances from the three leads), there’s little doubt that Millie, Pinky and Willie hail from the land of Wynken, Blynken and Nod.

Tribeca 2025: The Wolf, the Fox, and the Leopard (***)

By Dennis Hartley

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Many were increasingly of the opinion [that humans] made a big mistake in coming down from the trees in the first place. And some said that even the trees had been a bad move, and that no one should ever have left the oceans.

― Douglas Adams, from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

What makes us “human”…is it nature, or nurture? How many times have you heard admonishments like “don’t wolf your food” or “you’re acting like an animal”? Are we not mammals, after all?

Writer-director David Verbeek tackles that age-old question in this speculative fiction yarn about the discovery of a young woman (Jessica Reynolds) who has literally been raised by wolves. Naturally, her first accommodation in the “civilized” world is a cold, clinical research facility, where she is poked and prodded and ogled at by people in white coats.

Frightened and confused, she barely has time to acclimate to these alien surroundings before a pair of cultish survivalists spirit her away to an abandoned offshore oil rig. The couple imprint themselves as parental figures and methodically indoctrinate her into their vision of an impending environmental apocalypse.

The trio seem well on their way to forming a cozy family unit-until the young woman discovers (much to her chagrin) that her “parents” have feet of clay (you can take the wolf-girl out of the forest…).

I see touchstones like The Wild Child, The Emerald Forest, Altered States, and Charly; but Verbeek has put a unique 21st Century spin on some time-worn themes. His secret weapon is Reynolds, who delivers an extraordinary performance that runs the gamut from running around on all fours and dining al fresco on small game to making small talk with her customers at the grocery checkout counter.

Tribeca 2025: Inside (**1/2)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)

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Every time I try to swear off prison dramas…they pull me back in (and throw away the key). In the case of writer-director Charles Williams’ Inside, I was intrigued by the casting. Guy Pearce plays a grizzled long-term inmate who becomes mentor to a young man (Vincent Miller) who has just been transferred from a juvenile facility. When a notorious lifer (Cosmo Jarvis) who fancies himself a religious prophet takes an interest in the new inmate, an uneasy surrogate father triangle ensues.

There are three solid, intense performances here by the leads, but there are jarring narrative jumps which require some heavy lifting by the viewer. It’s possible that I was thrown off by the odd tics of Jarvis’ character. It’s an interesting performance (along the lines of Billy Bob Thornton’s Sling Blade character), but frankly I could not understand three-quarters of his dialog (perhaps a second viewing wherein I have the option of close-captioning will clarify some plot points for me). Until then…a guarded recommendation.

Tribeca 2025: Cuerpo Celesete (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 7, 2025)

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Adolescence can be an emotional roller coaster; likewise the grief process. Dealing with both at once is a daunting test of anyone’s mettle. Chilean writer-director Nayra Ilic Garcia’s meditative family drama opens on New Year’s Eve, 1990. Vivacious 15 year-old Celeste (Helen Mrugalski) is enjoying a beach holiday with her loving family and closest friends (I had to remind myself that Chile is below the equator).

This is not only a happy time for Celeste and her entourage, but for Chileans in general. General Pinochet’s brutal Junta is over for good, with democratically-elected Christian Democrat Patricio Aylwin set to take office in March of the new year.

However, just when everything’s looking up, Fate intervenes with a sudden death in the family.  Celeste’s double-whammy of having to cope with growing pains along with an emotionally traumatic personal loss gives impetus to this moving and sensitively acted coming-of-age story. Garcia subtly weaves political analogy in the narrative; using the specter of Chile’s “missing” to mirror a nation coming to terms with collective grief, and the growing pains of a revived democracy that has lain dormant for far too long.

SIFF 2025: Color Book (****)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 24, 2025)

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Everyone processes grief differently. In the case of recently widowed Lucky (William Catlett) and his 9 year-old son Mason (Jeremiah Daniels) there lies an additional complication in the healing process: Mason is developmentally disabled and doesn’t appear to understand why his mother is no longer with them.

Now more than ever, Lucky’s paternal instinct drives him to bond with his son; and even if Mason isn’t registering the same emotional pain over their mutual loss, he wants to do everything in his power to be a comforting and reassuring presence for him. But Mason’s chief concerns remain steadfast: drawing in his coloring book and watching televised ball games.

Lucky hits on an idea to break the impasse: he’ll take his son to his first pro baseball game. It’s perfect…a father and son bonding experience that will make Mason happy and get both of them out of the house for a day. What ensues is a veritable Homeric journey across the Atlanta metro area, driven by Lucky’s determination to get his son to the ball park on time to catch the game, regardless of any number of obstacles.

They say there is beauty in simplicity, and this is a simple story, beautifully told. It’s an astonishingly assured debut for writer-director David Fortune, shot in black and white by cinematographer Nikolaus Summerer. A truly compassionate drama that keeps it real at all turns, capped off by two outstanding lead performances. Color Book is a must-see.

SIFF 2025: Boong (***)

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 24, 2025)

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Boong (Gugun Kipgen) is a precocious Indian schoolboy who lives with his mother in a small, insular village where everyone is always up in everyone else’s business. Unflattering rumors have been flying regarding Boong’s absentee father, who has cut off communication with his family since migrating to a city in nearby Myanmar to find work. When there’s a pronouncement from a dubious source that his father has died, Boong refuses to believe it. He enlists his best bud and they hit the road to investigate.

Writer-director Lakshmipriya Devi’s impressive debut feature is a gentle family drama/road movie that offers a child’s-eye view of the sociopolitical complexities that fan ethnic and sectarian tensions along the border of India and Myanmar. Despite bittersweet undercurrents, Devi has fashioned a charming and ultimately touching coming-of-age tale.