Firstly, if you’re here because it’s the first stop on the Ghost Tour bus, that’s actually really rude, or if you’ve suddenly come to at a standing desk in the middle of the desert wearing drab pajamas and having pulled this up on your work computer as part of what signs (emails) seem to indicate is called “Burnout Man,” let me kindly direct you to the About page.
For a while now, the Instagram algorithm has determined that I only care about two things: gay people and Andrei Tarkovsky. Every other promoted post in my feed seems to be a Tarkovsky quote or a photo of him sitting, and it is worth noting that I still have yet to see a single film made by this man (I did watch a video essay a couple weeks ago). The other thing Insta (or “IG”—apparently it is a millennial thing to call it “Insta”?) loves to throw my way is a targeted ad for sandals, because it knows I am in the market for some warm-weather footwear. What it doesn’t seem to realize is that I don’t want to spend an amount hovering around $100 USD just so my feet can breathe in what scientists have been calling fresh air. For now, I’ll be telling those dogs to hold their breath.
Safe
dir. Todd Haynes, 1995
This film, which is almost sectional couch propaganda before it pivots, is the reason I began my fourteen-day free Criterion Channel subscription (citing my sources). It was the early days of the pandemic, I had nothing going on other than recently-virtualized school and taking ninety minute walks most days, and I kept seeing things about this Haynes film being one of those “perfect-but-also-terrifying watches for our current moment,” and I hadn’t yet seen it. Word on the street is that it’s a big AIDS metaphor, as if that weren’t written all over Julianne Moore’s anxious ticks and smothering malaises.
The Salesman
dir. Asghar Farhadi, 2016
Quite enjoyed this one, even though I remember very little about it other than I was watching it when my family got home and they asked if I ever watch movies in English anymore. The final sequence was really long, but in a good way, like a play (I am so good at what I do).
Salt
dir. Phillip Noyce, 2010
I can’t say why, but this movie is hugely 2010. I think I watched this with my dad, but also it was playing on FX pretty much every day since its release. Culture loves when Angelina Jolie is holding a gun.
Le Samouraï
dir. Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967
People wild out for this one, but to be honest I found it boring (except for every minute Cathy Rosier was on screen). Once again it’s worth noting that Alain Delon sucks, which is only fair that someone with that face can’t also be good.
The Sandlot
dir. David Mickey Evans, 1993
Watched this for the first time with my neighborhood crew at the house of our family friends before they moved to become part of the neighborhood crew. I’ve really only retained two things and they are: 1) the scary-but-misunderstood dog, and 2) the lifeguard “kiss” trickery which is actually… assault? Hmm. Or wait, there was no such thing in the 60s? Or just boys being boys? Unfortunately, this movie is horny to me, and I believe it’s important (buckle up) to identify problematic sites of sexiness from our youth.
Sauerbruch Hutton Architects
dir. Harun Farocki, 2013
Went to a screening of this in undergrad and might have dozed off but also really liked the parts I did see. Couldn’t say more beyond that.
Sauvage
dir. Camille Vidal-Naquet, 2018
Félix Maritaud, France’s go-to gay lead (I am afraid to do a goog and investigate if his sexuality is public) shines in this film about a hustler that I wish I remembered more of, but I’m sure that he shines in it nonetheless. Just watched the trailer and it says this film is “impossible to forget,” so one of us is wrong.
Saw
dir. James Wan, 2004
I might have seen more than just the first one, but this is the only one that means anything to me. These movies have been so successful and I just want to know if everyone is ok.
Scary Movie & Scary Movie 2
dir. Keenen Ivory Wayans, 2000; dir. 2001
Saw both of these on TV, otherwise known as the great equalizer. Chris Elliott, now known for Schitt’s Creek, probably, has a role in the second movie where he is a butler, and in hindsight it’s very ableist and just plain not-PC, but I used to laugh my little hiney off. I think it’s important (here we go) to assess the problematic elements of our past and reflect on how far we’ve come, and how far we still have to go.
Scenes from a Marriage
dir. Ingmar Bergman, 1973
Watched this (the episodic version) over the course of a couple weeks this past summer. To be honest I thought it was going to be a lot of straight nonsense, but it was actually surprisingly gripping (although why do the Great Mid-to-Late-Century Auteurs love to see their heroines hit by a man? Am I being too millennial about this?). I’m hearing reports that the powers that be are putting together a remake starring Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain, to which I’m obligated to expect a lot of straight nonsense.
School of Rock
dir. Richard Linklater, 2003
Jack Black’s best work? Naturally this was a fan-favorite in the aughts (fan being me, and most of my peers). Certainly watched this both in school and not in school, neither of which was particularly rocking, but found resonance or something with those kids and their uptight environment. I thought the term “the Man” was invented for this movie.
Also: wait… this is a Linklater film??
Scooby-Doo
dir. Raja Gosnell, 2002
I don’t remember much about this except for Scrappy-Doo and lava, but I continue to live with the deeply unsettled feeling of seeing Scooby-Doo being anything but a cartoon animation. I never religiously watched the TV show, but I saw enough of it to know you should let a sleeping dog lie in 2-D, as they say. The casting of this, though, couldn’t have been better.
Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island
dirs. Kazumi Fukushima, Jim Stenstrum, Hiroshi Aoyama, 1998
Owned this on VHS, and it is a treasure trove. While somewhat recently re-watching it with my sister, I realized I’d forgotten what the mystery was, and let me tell you, I was thrilled to be reminded, so I won’t spoil it here, in case any readers have also forgotten, or have maybe never seen. There is a moment when Daphne says “WhO OPEned A wINdOW?” right as something spoopy happens, and the delivery of this line continues to ring with clarity in my head ever since the very first watch however many years ago that occurred.
Scott Pilgrim vs. the World
dir. Edgar Wright, 2010
Was first shown this by my friend, who definitely had a little bit of a justified crush on Mary Elizabeth Winstead, and he then went on to date a couple of women with different colored hair, so everyone should follow their respective blisses. I also watched this as part of a college course. Love that there is a character named “Knives.”
Se7en
dir. David Fincher, 1995
I remember not liking this when I saw it in my teens. Do not plan to re-watch. Did Gwyneth goop with this one? Not for me to decide. Also the title is stupid!
The Searchers
dir. John Ford, 1956
This was one of the first film screenings I went to as an undergrad. Glad to have been exposed to the birth of the “silhouette in doorway looking out at the open space” imagery that has pervaded cinema ever since. I remember recently hearing a take that this film, despite evident misrepresentations of Native Americans, is not racist, but that itself seems like an insecure, or at least misguided assessment. Maybe I’m simply too far from the generation that reveres John Wayne (this evidenced by the fact that I can’t read or write his name without hearing Lady Gaga belting it, and then the doo dah deep dep nonsense syllables), but I don’t feel the need to defend these kind of films just because of their cinematic contributions.
Sebastine
dir. Derek Jarman, 1976
Was turned on to Derek Jarman by a professor and by Olivia Laing, whom I respectfully worship, and this was the second of his films I watched, as I planned to move through them in something like chronological order (this got derailed at some point). This film laden with sun and skin and wet definitely seems the lay the groundwork for most of the things Jarman returns to over the course of his filmography. I just finished reading his memoir that is loosely structured around his garden, and I want to love anything as much as he loves flowers and iconography.
Seberg
dir. Benedict Andrews, 2019
Convinced my family to watch this Kristen Stewart-helmed not-quite-biopic about famous Black Panther Jean Seberg. I think it’s fair to say it underwhelmed all of us. I’m wondering how many more scenes Zazie Beetz has to steal before she gets a big-title leading role.
Secondhand Lions
dir. Tim McCanlies, 2003
Something in my gut is telling me I saw this in theaters. It takes up a lot of space in memory, but even though it is nourishing, that space is empty, kind of like the vacuole in a plant cell. This movie has plants, definitely—specifically a corn field, I want to say. Whether or not this film I don’t remember has a corn field, it has corn field energy, a genre that includes films such as Signs, of course, but also anything with checkered dresses or dirt. #BigCornFieldEnergy
Seeking a Friend for the End of the World
dir. Lorene Scafaria, 2012
I won’t say who, but a family member sat down to watch this with me and then suddenly burst into tears at the end when the world, as promised, ends. It is sweet, because friends were sought and found, but it is also sad because, as I said before and as can be gleaned from the title, the world ends.
A Separation
dir. Asghar Farhadi, 2011
For a lot of this film I was like... yeah... he did push her??
Serena
dir. Susanne Bier, 2014
Read the book on my Amazon Kindle Fire and was excited when a while later, I found out a movie was in the works with J. Law and Mr. Bradley Gaga, and since I loved Silver Linings Playbook because it was the first film I ever realized had a script, I looked forward to seeing this. Horrendous reviews kept me from seeing this until it was free on one streaming platform or another, and yeah, there is nothing all that redemptive here other than the melodrama leaking like a poison from every set piece, costume, and heavy stare. After this, Birdbox and then the mess that was The Undoing, Susanne Bier has a lot of atoning to do.
Serenity
dir. Joss Whedon, 2005
My dad introduced me to the short-lived but much-loved TV series Firefly, which he rented from Netflix on discs (ever heard of them?)—this was the era of by-mail subscriptions and also Swine Flu, which I claim to have had while we were partway through watching season one of this show. Anyway, we all know that Joss Whedon sucks, but I remember this movie being a satisfying conclusion to a charmingly thrilling show about space outlaws, and also a satisfying sci-fi movie in general.
A Serious Man
dirs. Ethan Coen, Joel Coen, 2009
Watched with my family, all of whom seemed a little indifferent about it, but I thought it was the Cohen Brothers in peak form (something I learned about the difference between American and British English is that Americans use family as a singular unit—“my family is from New York”—whereas the Brits more often go with the plural— “my family [members] are from New York.” This has been: a digression.)
The Shaggy Dog
dir. Brian Robbins, 2006
Watched this at my neighbors’ house one night. The man becomes the dog due to magic, I think, and then probably changes back because of good deed(s). I will not be verifying this.
Shakespeare in Love
dir. John Madden, 1998
Ok, this is Gwyneth gooping, 100%. Important work furthering the use of the word “bubbies,” uttered by a young boy (this is my most notable memory).
Shallow Hal
dirs. Peter Farrelly, Bobby Farrelly, 2001
Jack Black’s best work? (Kidding of course— burn this movie.) Gwyneth confirmed did not goop.
Shame
dir. Steve McQueen, 2011
I will lead with this: Michael Fassbender’s penis. Ok? Have we gotten that out of the way? I was really numbed by this film, which I suspect was part of the intention. Watching this several years ago inspired me once again to try listening to classical music while running, which lasted, predictably, barely one run. I used to be a religious music-while-running person, and then, when I realized I was spending upwards of twenty minutes beforehand deciding what to listen to, I switched to podcasts. Now I run with nothing, and people always ask, “How do you you do it, alone with your thought like that?” to which I struggle to describe the state of my thoughts while running because it is mostly just half-baked word/image fragments on tumble-dry with the occasional “don’t twist your ankle on this curb” or “is this person trying to race me?”
PLEASE share your own experiences with any of this week’s films in a comment—I’ll include my favorite in next week’s email for my millions of beautiful fans* to enjoy.
*Data pending
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Please tell me how you could not mention “what’s in the box?!” from Se7en considering how our many family members continue to (over)use the quote. (Agree title is stupid.)
School of Rock singlehandedly convinced me that Rock 'n Roll (a genre with almost no cultural significance in my lifetime) has been and will always be the coolest thing ever.