STATE FAIR (1945, dir. Walter Lang)
Available on Amazon Prime.
While it not might feature as wide a variety of deep-fried options as our own state fair, this State Fair is a great State Fair. There’s no worries about missing it or being late, it’s waiting there for you through the Amazon Prime service. State Fair isn’t the best Rodgers and Hammerstein big screen translation (Oklahoma!, South Pacific, The Sound of Music would top my list), but the songs are catchy and it’s very nice to see Dana Andrews play a softer character given all of his other career highlights (Ball of Fire, Laura, Night of the Demon) are decidedly less so. This is a type of movie that isn’t being made anymore and is unlikely to ever rise to prominence again, but if you’re capable of handling earnestness and joyful expression without sarcasm, this should be right up your alley.
SUPER (2011, dir. James Gunn)
Available on Netflix.
In celebration of Gunn’s current status as director of the No. 1 movie in America, there’s no better time to reflect on the oddball roots of his filmmaking that led us to this point. Gunn got his start in the industry working for the exploitation film factory that is Troma Films, alongside founder Lloyd Kaufman (co-writing Kaufman’s All I Need to Know About Filmmaking I Learned from the Toxic Avenger as well as what is widely considered to be the best Troma film in Tromeo and Juliet). The gonzo attitude that informs the majority of Troma’s work can definitely be seen here in Super. Gunn creates numerous jarring tonal shifts in this movie that sneak up so quickly they could cause whiplash, and Rainn Wilson gives the best performance of his career so far in the role of a perennially sad-sack loser who is spurred to become the crime fighter The Crimson Bolt through the one-two punch of losing his recovering addict wife (Liv Tyler) to a sleazy club owner (Kevin Bacon) and having a vision where the hand of god spurs him into action. Ellen Page does some of her finest work as Crimson Bolt’s sidekick, Boltie. Gunn made this film as he was navigating through a divorce, and there’s a strong cathartic emotional current that runs throughout that some might find surprising, with an ultimately uplifting message despite spending some time wading around in extremely graphic violence. If Guardians of the Galaxy made you interested in the career James Gunn had previous to its success, let this be the first stop on your tour (see Slither next!).
NO GOD, NO MASTER (2012, dir. Terry Green)
Available on Netflix.
Some local flavor was added to Netflix recently with the release of MFF 2012 alumnus No God, No Master, a suspense thriller starring David Strathairn filmed right here in Milwaukee. In it Strathairn plays an FBI agent in the summer of 1919, seeking to expose the criminal ring that has been leaving explosive packages on the doorsteps of prominent members of society. Over the course of his research, he uncovers an underground anarchist movement dead-set on overthrowing American democracy. If you missed No God, No Master during its brief time on the big screen locally, this is a great opportunity to catch up on one of the rare movies filmed exclusively in our city (I’m looking at you, cutaway shots of Milwaukee in Bridesmaids).
SLACKER (1991, dir. Richard Linklater) or WAKING LIFE (2001, dir. Richard Linklater)
Available on Netflix, Hulu , Youtube and Amazon Prime.
With Richard Linklater’s Boyhood (read my review here) poised for an extensive run at the Oriental theater, it’s a good time to dig into one of the most eclectic oeuvres in American cinema. In the modern era, only Steven Soderbergh has managed to equal a balance of personal esoteric projects alongside commercially viable entertainments as well as Richard Linklater, with both of the options listed here definitely falling on “personal and esoteric” side of the equation, and both of which feel like powerful influences on the type of film that Boyhood ended up becoming over the course of the 12-year odyssey spent making it. Neither Slacker nor Waking Life are narratively driven. Slacker, his first film, genuinely has no narrative thrust as it careens from conversation to conversation over the course of a day in Austin, Texas. There are some throughlines that you can follow in these conversations (a sense of isolation and marginalization is a recurring feature), but it is a film to be experienced instead of followed. Waking Life, his rotoscope-like animated experiment, is similarly plotless – although there is a main character who we stick with for long stretches of the film – we are subjected to numerous philosophical conversations about free will, the nature of being and many other topics that wouldn’t be out of place at a college bonfire where joints are being passed around. It’s visually sumptuous, which will be helpful if you tire of the existentialist musings on display, but it’s easy to draw a line between these two more free-form narrative works and the gentle introduction of story into Boyhood, a film that manages to feature numerous similarly flowing conversations amidst its runtime.
