<B><I>The Circus</I> is part of The Criterion Collection on Hulu</B>

I had just enough time to kill this afternoon before today's Reds game for a short movie and I decided that this would be an opportune time to finally get around to my first ever Charlie Chaplin film.

The story is pretty simple, and there's not much to say about it other than that the abuse of the circus owner/ringmaster - particularly of his stepdaughter, Merna - was rather distasteful. Of course, it was meant to be so that there's an antagonist in the story. I'd have rather seen him put in his place than for Merna to marry Rex and have her escape be dependent upon him, but it was a film from the 20s and what else is there to expect?

Also: I've been within ten feet of a lion at the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago. That lion took an active dislike of me, and its roar was far more powerful than comedies had led me to believe. I think about how that roar sounded and felt, and how chilling it was, every time I see such a critter in something like this.

<I>The Circus</I> entered my Flickchart at #949/1422

<B>Montauk with Jim Jarmusch</B>

I have <a href=http://travismcclain.blogspot.com/2010/11/go-fish-ill-stay-here.html><I>never</I></a> liked fishing. Fishing shows are even more dreadful to me than fishing itself, and I've had to sit through some over the years because my brother enjoys them. I decided to check out this short-lived TV series because 1) it qualifies for the DVD Talk Criterion Challenge (yes, there really is a Criterion Collection DVD release of this show!), 2) it's streaming via HuluPlus and 3) I figured the run time (just under half an hour per episode) means I can break this up and get to it when I want to take a break from feature length films. That it's a farce of a fishing show also inclined me toward it.

This first episode, "Montauk with Jim Jarmusch," set a nice tone. John Lurie and Jim Jarmusch have nice chemistry, being real life friends and all, and Robb Webb's narration is spot-on: he sounds like a fishing show narrator, but what he actually says is fairly absurd. I confess, I didn't think they were actually trying to catch a shark at first. But then, sure enough, there they were with one in the very end.

My brother and nephew (not my brother's son) would both get a kick out of this, I suspect. The next time Barnes & Noble run their 50% off sale on Criterion titles, I may have to scope it out for their Christmas gifts.

<B>Jamaica with Tom Waits</B>

I knew going into this episode from Wikipedia that filming this episode so strained Tom Waits & John Lurie's friendship that they didn't speak to one another for two years. Obviously, we're only privy to an episode with a run time of 27:35 so plenty was said and done that we never get to see. But from what <I>is</I> in the episode, I don't understand just what right Tom Waits had to become indignant. After all, <I>he's the guy who put a fish in his pants.</I>

Waits is genuinely, naturally funny but the fish-in-the-pants gag was so over the top that I confess, it made me a tad uncomfortable. That aside, this was a noticeably stronger episode than the first one with Jim Jarmusch.

<B>Costa Rica with Matt Dillon</B>

This was a particularly weak episode. The episode meanders way too much, punctuated by a bit where Lurie and Dillon - who have very little in the way of entertaining banter - "study" some kind of folk dance for fishers. It knows it wants to be a satire but it never quite commits to whether it's mocking moronic Lurie & Dillon, or if it's mocking the Costa Ricans.

It's fortunate this was the third episode because if it had been the first, I think I'd have stopped watching entirely.

<B>Maine with Willem Dafoe</B>

Maybe it's partly because I've always like Dafoe, but this episode rescued the series for me after the disappointing third episode, "Costa Rica with Matt Dillon." As with the other co-fishers, Dafoe has terrific chemistry with Lurie. Ice fishing in Maine frees them from the kinds of distractions that have gotten in the way at times in previous episodes.

It's fun watching Dafoe tease about things like putting together their sleeping bags and lighting up at seeing a red flag on one of their drilled sites. Throughout his career, Dafoe has generally played sourpusses so it's been rare to glimpse this more laid back and even somewhat mischievous side of the guy that has lurked beneath the surface in many of his performances. It's that sense of candor that <I>Fishing with John</I> showcases well, and the reason it's so likable is that the camaraderie on screen is not at all created by celebrity status. These episodes could have just as easily been made with my friends, or with yours. It's authentic and that's why the show is so engaging.

<B>Thailand with Dennis Hopper, Part 1</B>

This episode had some of the best gems so far. The banter about <I>Easy Rider</I>, the ping pong game, catching a stingray, and voiceover quips such as:

"As always, night turns into day."

"Out of kindness, and for old times' sake, John and Dennis pretend to hear one another."

Good stuff.

<B>Thailand with Dennis Hopper, Part 2</B>

I felt this episode was a step down from Part 1, and even from "Maine with Willem Dafoe," but it has its moments all the same. What struck me most here (and I'd kinda noticed it in the first part) is the striking resemblance between Dennis Hopper and a friend of mine's dad, Bill. The weird thing there is that my friend, his dad and his young son don't even look like three generations of a family, but one guy at three different stages of his life. Ergo, my friend looks like a young Dennis Hopper. Never made that connection until this. Weird.

<B><I>Fishing with John</I> entered my Flickchart at #937/1423</B>
<I>note: I had to mentally consider the entire 6-episode series as a singular entry</I>

Yes; with the collectibility of the format being an important factor I must admit.
I think it's my short attention span. I often have a hard time focusing for more than a few minutes at a time. Books take a lot of stops and starts, and often restarts for me to get through. Most comics can be read in 5 minutes or so. This (ADHD?) problem extends to most areas of my life, conversations, projects that take time to finish, etc; so I tend to gravitate towards things that are light and fluffy and fast. One thing that calms (?) me and seems usually immune to this short attention span are films or dramatic TV; where I can often completely lose myself in for hours at a time.
I agree. And I'd have to admit that my main "hobby" will always be "collecting". As much as I love film, or comics; the whole buying/collecting (hoarding?) process is what I truly love, deep down. It's some form of OCD or other behavioral disorder I"m sure; but I don't want to be cured.

5 minutes or so? Don't you take any time to look at the pictures?

I guess I'm lucky. I can lose myself in a good book as easily as I can in a good film.

With me, it's the search & acquisition. The treasure hunt. I was introduced to thrift shops and flea markets at a young age, and I just can't pay "collector's prices" for anything. Yeah, I've missed out on a lot of stuff I'd like to own, but I like the stuff I have more knowing that I "dug it up" somewhere.

I knew precious little about this other than that it had quite a lot of buzz once upon a time. I decided to stream it just now for this year's Criterion Challenge, selected entirely because I needed something from the 2000s for my checklist.

Holy. Damn.

This is a coming-of-age tale by way of Hitchcock. Every step of the way, ominous events are foreshadowed (much of it through the commentary of Anaïs). The frank sexuality of her sister, Elena, is almost recognizable as universal exploration except that she's fallen for an obvious predator in Fernando. I'm sure there are more than a few male viewers who would applaud the Italian cad's "triumph," but I personally found him revolting. I had hoped every minute he was on screen in Anaïs & Elena's bedroom that someone would catch him and give him quite a thrashing.

Seriously, exploiting the sexual immaturity of Elena is bad enough...but to have sex with her in the same room as Anaïs? Who does that?! Also, I confess that I was taken out of the film by the relative ease with which Fernando penetrated Elena during the anal sex scene. No previous experience, no work-up, no lubricant? I'm not buying it.

Of course, the most disturbing plant of information is when the girls balk at the idea of their mother driving them home. We know this can only invite disaster. Not since the end of <I>The Sopranos</I> have I been so riveted just watching a car move quietly in traffic. Every change of lanes, every turn taken, every semi passed seemed to be one more skirmish with death. Just to exacerbate the anxiety, Elena goes and tells Anaïs how she wishes their mother dead - and herself along with her. And then we stop for a respite in a gas station eerily similar to the one in <I>Spoorloos</I> (a universal design of French gas stations, or a cinematic contrivance?).

When the windshield shattered, I was certain it was Anaïs having a nightmare of some sort, or perhaps even a twisted daydream. The longer it continued, though, the more I began to realize that it was very much happening as part of the story. The rape of Anaïs is particularly disturbing here not only because it's a heinous act, but because it takes place in the context of her own ongoing discussion of sexuality. Clearly, she will not be falling in love with her assailant; he's essentially disposable in a way. But it also conflates the violent act of rape with sexuality; rape is not actually about sex, but an abuse of power. For Anaïs to perceive her attack as an act of sexuality is perhaps the most upsetting thing of the entire film.

Reboux's performance as Anaïs is unnerving. She is the conveyor of nearly all of the warnings of the film, for one thing, but also there's that persistent blank stare. We see her facing away from her sister's bed, where Elena is being humiliated without realizing it. Though she's crying at her sister's activity, feeling the shame that she knows her sister later will feel, there's a sense that crying is not her natural reaction. Emotion comes unnaturally to Anaïs, it seems, which is why her bizarre acceptance of having been raped at the end of the film is both consistent with her character and all the more shocking.

Praise must also be lavished upon Roxane Mesquida for delivering an extremely bold and vulnerable performance as the sensuous and naive Elena. She is really the engine of the entire story, not only as the character, but as the actress to whom everyone else on screen reacts. IMDb tells me she was 20 years old at the time the film was released, and that it was only her third feature (and fourth credit overall, after a short film).

I tip my hat to Catherine Breillat not so much for the coming-of-age portion of the film, but for crafting what emerges as a very dark "thriller" of sorts. I wondered about the title, since I studied French enough to know that the on-screen title, <I>À ma soeur!</I>, does not in fact translate to <I>Fat Girl</I>. Breillart explains in her <a href=http://www.criterion.com/current/posts/1846-i-fat-girl-about-the-title>essay</a> that <I>Fat Girl</I> was her original title and the one under which the film was sold, but that sensitivity toward Anaïs Reboux and French audience screenings had led to <I>À ma soeur!</I> I'm glad that was clarified, but I'm disappointed that Breillat commented on nothing else about the film in her essay. The Blu-ray release includes a pair of interviews with her, though, and I assume they contain story-centric remarks.

<B><I>Fat Girl</I> entered my Flickchart at #368/1424</B>