Jews

Rick asked a question that I think deserves its own post: What is the meaning of Meadows' "Heil Hitler" as he shoots the cop? I don't have an answer for that. I thought he might be implying that the cop is anti-Semitic and that the "Heil Hitler" is ironic, but I can't really make a case for that. I think the question deserves its own post because the statement is made in a broader context of Jewish issues in the film, and it is made amid a sort of holocaust at the hotel. Barton is Jewish, as are many of the power brokers in Hollywood. Lipnick is Jewish but doesn't like to talk about his past; he refers to himself as a mean "kike" when talking to Barton. One of the cops — the one Meadows talks to? — is named Deutsch (the other has an Italian name — both Axis countries).The cops taunt Barton for being Jewish ("Fink. Is that Jewish?") by saying of course that dump of a hotel would not be "restricted." Is the Jewish stuff just background — Hollywood verisimilitude — or does it have a deeper meaning? The movie is supposed to take place in 1941, so I don't think there would have been much awareness yet what exactly Hitler was up to with the Jews, would there?

And in support...

The supporting characters can be divided into major and minor. The major ones are Charlie Meadows and Audrey Taylor who both well developed. There are several good minor ones: studio boss, producer, bellhop, detectives, and of course, Mayhew.

I thought all of these were very well cast. In particular, I like how rich some of the characters were that had very little screen time. This seems to be achieved by starting out with some easy to identify stereotype and then giving it a wicked twist. Foremost among these is the studio head Jack Lipnick. But then consider also the elevator operator who almost doesn’t speak.

What do you think of the supporting characters both the cast and the roles?

For all you STAUNCH characters

"Grey Gardens" is a 1975 documentary about the everyday lives of Jackie Kennedy Onassis's aunt and cousin in their decrepit 28-room mansion in East Hampton, New York.

The subjects of the film are Edith Bouvier Beale and her daughter (also named Edith -- "Little Edie"). The two women lived together at Grey Gardens for more than 20 years in squalor and almost total isolation. In 1972, their living conditions were exposed in the National Enquirer and a series of raids by the Suffolk County Health Department. Jackie O paid for a cleaning and partial repair job on the house. It was during the restoration that "Grey Gardens" was made.

Hopefully this won't be too difficult for everybody to find. It is available on Netflix.

Life of the Mind

Do you figure Fink to be a good writer? He’s a pompous ass. He wrote a play about poor working people that is popular with affluent theater goers. But he doesn’t listen. And he cannot sit down and knock out a simple morality tale for a B-movie. And he doesn’t listen. Could he actually write?

So is his decent into hell a product of the evils of Hollywood or of his own character?

What's in the Box, Part 2

Or Too Many Allegories

Instead of launching several topics, today I’ll start just this first thread. “Barton Fink” has been interpreted in many different ways, and to a considerable extent, I think the Coens calculated it to be that way. So to begin our discussion, I’d like to hear what all of you thought as your first reaction to the film. And for those who have seen it more than once, how did the experience compare to watching it the first time?

In my own case, although I had seen “Raising Arizona”, I didn’t realize that “Barton Fink” was by the same film makers. And even if I had, this was early enough in their career that I don’t think I could have had a sense of the “Coenesque”. The movie seemed liked it was going to be a “normal” story of a New York writer going to Hollywood in the ‘30s. But then we got to that bell at the hotel desk and all expectations were off.

What did you think about watching the film, and how much did you know about the movie before watching it?

Speaking of David Lynch and bleak art and "Dead Man"

I was reading about Neko Case's album "Blacklisted"*, which is described as furthering her "country noir" mood — "lush, bleak, and atmospheric" — some adjectives that Peter Greenaway aspires to (hehe). Get this, cl and DW: "Case cited filmmaker David Lynch, composer Angelo Badalamenti, and Neil Young's soundtrack to the film 'Dead Man' as influences" for that album. Awesome. I love that a musician is inspired by something she saw at the movies.

* From Wikipedia: Some believe the title "Blacklisted" alludes to Case being banned for life from the Grand Ole Opry because she took her shirt off during a performance on August 4, 2001, though Case herself has denied this. Asked about the incident in 2004, Case said "I had heatstroke. People would love it to be a 'fuck you' punk thing. But it was actually a physical ailment thing."

Places as faces

We talked about how the landscape in "Picnic at Hanging Rock" figured so largely in the film that it could almost be thought of as a character. Landscape was prominent in "The Last Picture Show," too (as a way of explaining character), and in "True Grit" (for character and sheer prettiness). In "Exotica," I think landscape was less important, but we still had the sweeping vistas where the search party roamed. Do you have any favorite movies where landscape played a memorable role? For me, "Out of Africa" and "Babette's Feast" and "Wuthering Heights" come to mind. (And, for Erin's sake, let's not forget "Alive").

La Lambert revisited

I checked out "The Draughtsman's Contract," directed by Peter Greenaway, which was Anne Lambert's last major film role before going on to a lot of TV work. She was about as interesting and memorable as a blank piece of notebook paper.

That also leaves me 0-2 on Peter Greenaway films. I saw "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover" years ago and thought it stunk. Has anyone enjoyed one of his movies? Is there something I'm missing?

cinematography

"Picnic at Hanging Rock" was lauded for cinematography after it release, winning a BAFTA award in 1977 and receiving other nominations. The filmmakers had a lot of breathtaking features to work with, from Hanging Rock to the wild outback to the incongruity of the prim, colonial schoolhouse, an isolated piece of civilization set against the fields.

But Australia's natural beauty wasn't what made the cinematography so extraordinary. The play of the camera on the rock made it a living character. The use of a bridal veil over the lens gave some of the schoolgirl scenes an ethereal and dreamlike quality.

Several articles about Weir, including Wikipedia's, cite his interest in contrasting a microcosm and macrocosm, with characters moving into the macrocosm with mixed results — in "Picnic at Hanging Rock," "Dead Poet's Society" and "The Truman Show." "Picnic's" cinematography is essential to establishing this idea of what happens when the girls leave their civilized, gilded cage and have a chance to explore the real world.

Hang it all!

I first saw "Picnic at Hanging Rock" 20 years ago or so — Don't do the math, you ageists! — when I was in college and pretty fresh off my own extremely intense high-school girl crush. I quite identified with Sara, although the girl I liked was nothing like Miranda. She would have made merciless fun of Miranda, come to think of it. And while this girl had a whole lot more going on than Miranda, her physical appearance had a very strong pull on me and caused me to invest her with certain attributes that she almost certainly did not possess, like superintelligence and perfectly refined artistic sensibilities and some sort of vague spiritual transcendence — and all that stuff. And that similarity, plus unrequited love, plus the fact that my girl died when we were 18, made this movie very powerful and haunting for me, especially because you didn't really see one girl longing for another in movies then. I think it was the first time I had ever seen that. And it was treated so naturally, like there wasn't anything very unusual about it and that it was really very poignant and special in some way.

I haven't seen the movie since then, although I've thought about it from time to time. I even thought about picking it, so I was thrilled when cl chose it. I was preparing to be dazzled all over again ... but, alas, I wasn't, and I was sort of happy about that, to tell the truth, because it seemed to mean I was no longer in thrall to various romantic notions I had as a kid. And I don't know whether my very positive reaction to the film 20 years ago or my slightly negative reaction today is the more telling. I'm tempted to think of it as a sort of a barometer of how I've grown — maybe how I've grown more cynical — and become more realistic about people and the role they play in one's life and what it really means to love someone; it's not swooning and craziness and putting someone on a pedestal and worshipping them night and day; it's interacting with them as a real human being and making a real day-to-day life with them and not burdening them with your own projections of who you think they are.

Several times during the movie last weekend I wanted to shout, "Get over it! Lots of people have blonde hair. Give me a break with the Botticelli angel thing. Please. You're deifying your own fucked-up lust! Can't you see that? This whole Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic of women as long-haired tragic beauties not fit for this world is bunk! A morbid masturbation fantasy! Puh-tooie!"

So I guess because I loved the movie as a kid and am lukewarm on it now, I tend to think of its charms as adolescent by association and of my reaction to it now as "mature." But that's probably not fair. And I do like the story — I have to say I'm even kind of fond of the weird missing chapter that "solves" the mystery — I just find the execution rather unfulfilling in the ways we've already discussed in various comments. And I'm alternately intrigued and turned off by the endless speculation the movie gives rise to — without any hope of a satisfactory explanation — but mostly intrigued.

Mrs. Appleyard

It seemed fitting that Mrs. Appleyard was the last victim at Hanging Rock. Did guilt overcome her and send her to her death? Was it a desperate search for answers that would save her school? Was she drunk? Did Miss McCraw come out of the mists and give her a well-deserved kick off the rocks?

Here, another satisfying little mystery to the story.

Bertie and Sara

It made sense to leave Bertie and Sara without a family reunion in the same way that the schoolgirls were never reconciled with their missing classmates. But it would have been interesting to see Bertie learn of his sister's demise, as he was bound to once her death made the news and her name, photo and orphan background presumably would have confirmed the connection. It's not so much a chance to watch him wallow in his grief but see him grapple with the fact that his sister was a peer to the missing girls he had been so ambivalent about.

Miss McCraw and Mademoiselle de Portiers

As has already been pointed out, Mademoiselle de Portiers seemed more likely to disappear than Miss McCraw. She was certainly more like the disappeared girls in that she was fair, beautiful, and remote. She looks like the Appleyard school ideal, and her role at the school is likewise central in that she teaches deportment. McCraw, on the other hand, is dark and dour. And she teaches mathematics. Skill with sums is certainly not part of the school ideal. But since these girls will one day run their domestic households, they will need to be able to keep the books—one of the few jobs they cannot entrust to servants. So McCraw is present only to fulfill one of those annoying practicalities that results from an imperfect world.

When Edith finally tells what she knows, she says that she saw McCraw climbing up towards the rocks without her skirt. I first took this as a sign of McCraw’s practicality. The clothing imposed on society women limited the usefulness of their bodies. Since she was trying to do the useful task of find the girls, and since she didn’t expect to be observed, she was of a mind to dispense with the hindering clothing.

At that point I expected an overarching theme to be a tension between science and romanticism with McCraw as the sturdy agent of science. But no such theme ever developed. And since all the other girls removed clothing too, it seems that McCraw was subject to the same influences they were with no protection from her scientifically trained mind.

Nor is the theme a simple one of rugged nature devouring a dainty civilization. Given that the school is named “Appleyard”, this would be another reasonable expectation. The return of Irma after several days deepens the mystery since she knows nothing about what has happened. But her days at Appleyard are over: the other girls suddenly attack her in fear in one of the most remarkable scenes.

The force affected men too. Everybody near the rock on that first day falls asleep. And Michael falls unconscious while searching. If Albert hadn’t promptly found him, would he have disappeared too?

So several themes are hinted at but not fulfilled. This perhaps plays into the mystical mood. We are kept searching for meanings that seem like they must be there, but that continue to elude us.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

It's the kind of day that the sexually unfulfilled and repressed among us just might disappear into a giant phallic vagina in the outback! Yessssss.

Emancipation

I finished watching this film with the impression that the Hanging Rock "victims" were actually freed and went on to a better place. Not in the "proper young ladies go to heaven" kind of way, but rather something a little more existential.

While their disappearance hurt those left behind, how were the missing cheated of anything? Let's look at their circumstances, allowing for some differing conditions between Miss McCraw and the girls:

They lived in a suffocating, repressive setting — even Mademoiselle de Poitiers was chided for using rouge — and the "skills" of their day included deportment and dance. One hopes Miss McCraw squeezed in some geometry lessons, but the function of the school essentially was a cloister where virgins were to stay put and intact until they were deemed suitable for a man.

They also were under the thumbs of staffers incapable of caring for them at an impressionable age — Mrs. Appleyard, who was sadistic, and Miss Lumley, brainless and hysterical, and Mlle. de Poitiers, kindly but frivolous, favoring children who wore pretty little diamond watches. Why the staff picked on Sara wasn't clear — her clear feelings for Miranda, her financial situation or otherwise — but this much is certain: Individuality must be stamped out.

They were dolls to the community — rows of virginial maidens dressed in white, passing by on the wagon, glove-clad under public scrutiny.

As we've discussed, their well-being was chiefly tied to the image of their virginity, and anybody in town was entitled to this information. They were subject to the most sordid speculation imaginable, including that unsettling conversation by the garden staff in the greenhouse.

And what would romance and sex be for them after schooling? Wouldn't it be sneaky and guilty, like Tom and the maid's trysts? Or would a lucky girl land a Michael, who values ... well, a swan? What about social expectations — visiting the wild, beautiful outback, as long as there were tents and music and light refreshments?

For whatever reason they were chosen, I think the gradual withdrawal from the others, from civilization, from inhibitions as they undressed, was supposed to be an emancipation. I think Weir's slow-mo pan at the end and uplifting music were supposed to underscore that good people were gone, but perhaps to a better place where female repression didn't exist.

In any case, wherever they were going, they didn't need corsets.

Limited-time offer

Remember that film bio dictionary I posted about ? I know you do because you all commented so eagerly. Anyway, it was on my snowy front porch when I got home today. Some snow seeped into the package and warped the dust jacket a little, but it's still fantastic! Here's what it says about Peter Weir: "Weir has an uncommon and beguiling aptitude for atmosphere of menace and mystery, often linked to strange and desolate places. He loves that brink of the occult, when perfectly found in landscape. But how pedestrian he becomes when he tries to explain these pregnant moods. The first part of Picnic at Hanging Rock is exquisite..."

That is right on the money for me.

As you can see, it's not strictly a dictionary; it's shot through with opinion, just the way I like my facts.

Here's a limited-time offer: Anyone who wants a copy of this book, send me your address and I will have one shipped to you! Don't be shy.

Monoliths

The powerful rock formation reminded me of a scene in "A Passage to India" where the female lead visits a stone Hindu temple that contains all sorts of sensual carvings and is covered with jungle growth. She nearly has a nervous breakdown over her exposure to this elemental, sexual force. And then, of course, there's the famous monolith in "2001: A Space Odyssey," standing erect and mysterious and austere among the savage primates. Is the rock in "Picnic" just another example of the mysteries of life and nature finding expression in a phallic symbol?

They tried it on "Dallas"

Since I am thus far the minority member of Camp Lambert, how about this as another possibility:

The movie begins with misquoted Poe: "What we see, and what we seem, are but a dream, a dream within a dream." Next we see Miranda awakening.

What if the dreamlike cinematography and odd story are just Miranda's dream? She casts herself as a lovely, idolized, benevolent spirit who is spared from a repressive and academic-lite boarding school and fancies herself a romantic stranger (Michael) who tries to rescue her?

Not a pretty girl

I found the casting of the fat, unattractive girl as the party-pooper shameful and cliche. Would a force of nature, which ostensibly claimed the other girls, care how a girl looked?

Sara or Michael

Sara and Michael both were profoundly affected by Miranda's disappearance and were, in a way, distant rivals. Did your compassion for either outweigh the other? Sara, of course, actually knew Miranda quite well as a roommate and appeared to totally depend on her as family. But I was interested in Michael's predicament, because although his attachment to Miranda was based only on sight, it seemed that he came closest of anyone to finding the girls, yet his search ultimately brought home a different victim than the one he'd sought.

Hothouse!

Roger Ebert's review of "Picnic at Hanging Rock" refers to Appleyard as "a hothouse atmosphere where schoolgirl crushes are inevitable." This may have inspired a number of other Web site descriptions of the school, including "a hothouse of barely repressed sensuality" and "a hothouse Eden."

What did you think of the school atmosphere? Were these ardent friendships typical of preadolescents, or adolescents of any gender in a restricted setting? Those were fairly passionate Valentine's messages, or perhaps our modern ideas see sex where only profound admiration is intended. But I think the place was bursting with repressed sexual longings. "Hothouse" was an apt word, indeed.

Sara's attachment to Miranda also had sexual overtones. She also had a reliance on Miranda as a substitute family member, which made the bond more complex.

Intact?

What did you think of all the hoopla surrounding whether the girls were "intact?" Was it just the authorities trying to figure out what had happened (i.e., whether a rape had occured), or were they too focused on that and not focused enough on their total well-being? Did the filmmaker find the focus amusing at all? (That may have been hinted at when the doctor was seen telling everybody at the house about it.)

What's in the Box?

This being a film blog and all, it was only a matter of time before somebody picked a movie by David Lynch or by the Coen brothers. The suspense was killing me, so now we have it. Also, I’ve been running through the Coen collection of late and just watched “Fargo”. Since I haven’t seen “Barton Fink” since it first came out, I’ll take this opportunity to ring the bell....

Theme/mythical

Another possible theme to the disappearances on Hanging Rock is the mythical aspect. Miranda's disappearance reminded me of Persephone being kidnapped by Hades, for one thing. But there are several clues that have more of a romantic or mythical aspect. The girls are young virgins, dressed in white. They engage in different ritualized behaviors -- the cheer to St. Valentine (all of the schoolgirls holding the statue in that breakfast scene disappear), a repeat vow before Miranda cuts through the heart-shaped cake, the shedding of clothing the farther they go from civilization. And the pan pipe music gives the scenes at Hanging Rock a mythical quality as well, like they were roaming an ancient and remote world.

Theme/nature

In the interview I linked to on my first post, Weir says that he was not interested in what actually happened to Miss McCraw and the missing schoolgirls, but there was a lot of suggestive material that opens the door to a series of "themes" for the viewer.

First among them is Nature as a supernatural force. Cinematography contributes to this idea significantly: the genteel school set against the Australian outback; the disturbing images of bugs and reptiles; and most of all the shots of Hanging Rock. It looks like a wild and malevolent presence in the wilderness, and several of the rocks featured resemble the face of a man or god.

There's also Miss McCraw and her assessment of the rock: "only a million years old," and her rather clinical take seemed to foreshadow her own fate at the picnic (up until that point, I assumed the youthful French teacher would vanish with the girls.)

And there's the aspect of the stopped watches, like some kind of magnetic force was at work, tampering with the technology that gave the visitors their sense of human superiority over nature.

Casting

Anne Lambert, also credited as Anne-Louise Lambert, was not Weir's original choice to play Miranda. The role went to Ingrid Mason, but Weir later decided that Lambert was a better fit for the part. Mason instead played Rosamund, and I have yet to find a satisfactory screenshot of her to post here and compare to Lambert. Rosamund was featured in a few scenes early in the movie and was the character who gleefully told Miranda about the math-themed Valentine for Miss McCraw.

I think Lambert's portrayal of Miranda plays a large part in the sense of melancholy and loss that Sara, Michael and others experience after she disappears. I read one review where the author sniped that Lambert's good looks won her the role.

I think Lambert had the right look for the film -- beauty with an appropriately ethereal quality, an expression that sometimes looked childlike and sometimes adult.

But she was more than a pretty face; she maintained a fey quality that advanced the story and sense of tension up until her disappearance, and she made an unforgettable impression that enhanced what a tragedy the outing turned out to be.

Background on "Picnic at Hanging Rock"

"Picnic at Hanging Rock," a mystery about members of a school party who disappear on a class trip, is adapted from a 1967 novel of the same name by Australian author Joan Lindsay. While some of the settings in the film, including Hanging Rock itself, are real, myths that the novel/film are based on actual incidents have been discredited. The author herself has been circumspect about the truth to the storyline and whether any of it could be based on fact, but no historical or media reports support the tale, and as Mrs. Appleyard says herself during the film, such sensational disappearances would be widely reported in the press.

The book and film's unresolved ending was the inspiration for a book published in 1980 titled "The Murders at Hanging Rock," which posed some possible solutions to the mystery.

There actually is an "answer" about what happened to the girls and their teacher, an 18th chapter that Lindsay withheld from her novel, that was released in 1987. Wikipedia links to a page that presumably has the "solution." I suggest that for those of us who want to read the novel (I do, for one), if you want to discuss Lindsay's ending, you preface it with a spoiler alert.

In a 1994 interview, film director Peter Weir recounts the author's reluctance to even confirm for him whether "Picnic at Hanging Rock" was based on a true story, and that she did not tell him the answer to her mystery, so no definite ending can be discerned within the framework of the film.

When "Picnic at Hanging Rock" was released on DVD, Weir actually cut minutes from the original film rather than add more scenes. This Web site has screen shots of the deleted scenes, sound files and other information.

There also is a documentary about the making of the film that came out in 1994. There's more information about it at imdb.com.

Speaking of superlatives

Yesterday I ordered a copy of "one of the best books on film ever written": The New Biographical Dictionary of Film by film critic David Thomson. I saw it enthusiastically mentioned in that Cary Grant article. Wikipedia describes it as "a collection of biographical essays, the book has entries on well over a thousand film directors, actors, screenwriters and other filmmakers whose works span the history of world cinema." ("Acclaimed film director Peter Bogdanovich calls the book 'an intellectual Filmgoer’s Companion' and 'an invaluable standard text for students, fans, and serious enthusiasts.'")

You can buy it for $5 used on Amazon!

The greatest actor who ever lived?

I just read in a very learned article in The Atlantic — I mean, it was flatly asserted — that Cary Grant is the greatest actor who ever lived. Does anyone want to weigh in on this?

Ahem!

Ms. Rush, I couldn’t help but notice that your profile incorrectly states the Knork was invented in Wichita. It was invented in Newton, by a Newtonian, and the business that sells it (although it started in Wichita) is now in North Newton.

So there!

New people!

Welcome, AEL and mcmindes (stay tuned: her name might be changing). The way this blog works is that every two weeks someone picks a movie and we all discuss it. We go in alphabetical order by user name. Currently (as of Monday, Jan. 29), we're discussing Ben's pick, "The Incredibles." We'll discuss it until Monday, Feb. 12, when we'll start on cl's pick, which is "Picnic at Hanging Rock" (available on Netflix, if not at your local video store... you can get a Netflix account for $5 a month, but you probably know that). We have done only one revolution so far; cl got the first pick, and now we're back to her. The way we've been doing it is that the person who picked the movie starts the discussion with a couple of questions or comments and then everyone else joins in. On Feb. 12, when we start discussing Cl's movie, the next person in line, Driftwood, will announce his pick. It's meant to be fun and low pressure, so contribute as much or as little as you like. Note that we have a "recent comments" bar, so if you want to comment on movies we discussed in the past, feel free!