ISSUE #39
BEAM FROM THE BOOTH | GRAND RAPIDS FILM SOCIETY
[EDITED BY: GRIFFIN SHERIDAN]
Hello and welcome back to an all-new installment of BEAM FROM THE BOOTH brought to you by GRAND RAPIDS FILM SOCIETY!
THANK YOU to everyone who came out to our annual screening of IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE on 16MM FILM this past Sunday afternoon. What a truly special way to not only ring in the holiday season with our Grand Rapids film community, but also for us at GRFS to wrap up our 2023 events. Let’s do it again next year?
Speaking of “next year” ... we already have lots of exciting things planned for 2024 — including a special Valentine’s Day screening and another Twin Peaks Day celebration, and leading the way in January is a kung fu cinema double-header!
First, on JANUARY 7th, we are showing a staple of the martial arts movie genre: Bruce Lee’s 1973 classic ENTER THE DRAGON.
And just a few days later, on JANUARY 10th, we are thrilled to be bringing the new documentary ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE to Wealthy Theatre for it’s MICHIGAN PREMIERE!
Also coming up is another FILM SOCIETY PITCH NIGHT, the spin-off of our Film Society Roundtable social events where local filmmakers have the opportunity to pitch their concepts for projects to a room of potential collaborators. If you are a creative, this event could be the perfect way to jumpstart those films you’re hoping to get made in the new year.
Our friends with the CHIAROSCURO INTERNATIONAL FILM SERIES are returning for another season of curated foreign cinema, accompanied by region-inspired food and discussion. This season’s theme is “Passages” and the first film in the series, THE QUIET GIRL, is playing JANUARY 21st. All Chiaroscuro screenings are FREE and you can RSVP on our own website, but for those seeking more information regarding the series itself head over to Chiaroscuro’s official website.
As always, find more info and links to purchase tickets to some of these events in our ‘Upcoming Events’ section further down.
For this week’s newsletter, members of the GRFS Board (and some friends) have shared some of the most obscure films that we love in the hopes of giving them more attention and to encourage you, dear reader, to check them out during your time off this holiday season...
THE BEST FILMS YOU’VE NEVER SEEN
Disclaimer: all ‘views’ numbers in brackets are drawn from Letterboxd and are thus a merely relative gauge for measuring exposure and demonstrating obscurity.
DAVID BLAKESLEE:
So the assignment is to recommend a few of ‘The Best Movies You’ve Never Seen’ and by “you” I’m referring to you, the reader of these words. Okay, got it. I’ll come up with a list of several films that I think are pretty great but appear to be buried in obscurity and are unlikely to have been viewed by most if not all the folks who check out our weekly newsletter. Let’s go!
First though, let me offer a mild disclaimer. None of the films on this list are what I would consider to be “masterpiece” examples of the cinematic arts. I’m not expecting that any of the titles I’m about to mention ought to disrupt anyone’s Top 10 or even Top 100 lists. My understanding of terms like “classic” and “masterpiece” is that part of what makes a movie fit that definition is public acclaim, tested and proven over time. In order to rank as an all-timer, films (like any other expressive object) need to connect positively with a large audience. Most of a movie’s significance or importance is derived from the fact that it generates a memorable collective experience that succeeds at drawing in new and repeat viewers in sufficient numbers to keep its memory alive and improve the likelihood of ongoing future encounters for years to come. I think it’s safe to say that none of the films I’m about to suggest have been successful in meeting that criteria, but in my opinion, they are due for fresh discovery by audiences who might be in a better position to appreciate them than when they were first released. None of them have more than 2000 views recorded on Letterboxd — most have significantly fewer. And of course, this is all governed by my own personal taste, which may not align all that well with yours. Let this be an experiment in determining whether my personal recommendations are to be considered trustworthy!
All right, with that preamble out of the way: here are a few of my favorite films that I’m pretty certain YOU have never seen...
Borderline (Macpherson, 1930) [1.2k]
Native Land (Hurwitz/Strand, 1942) [512]
I’m putting these two films together because they both share the common element of Paul Robeson, one of the great cultural creators and social activists of the 20th century. Both films can be found in a box set published by the Criterion Collection in 2007, Paul Robeson: Portraits of an Artist. Ordinarily, I would consider just about any film released by Criterion to be ineligible for a list like this, but these two really are buried in obscurity. They’re not available on the Criterion Channel streaming service, and they’re both considered secondary features on their respective DVDs. Borderline is a fascinating silent film experiment concocted by an avant-garde collective of British expats living in Switzerland, living off funds provided by a wealthy young heiress willing to squander her fortune for the sake of creating Art' with a capital ‘A.’ Relying heavily on choppily-edited montage sequences to portray the interior psychological states of its characters, Borderline takes a progressive and provocative approach in addressing topics of interracial and same-sex romantic relationships, love triangles, racist stereotyping, and systemic social corruption — all presented through the lens of aesthetically-driven, intellectually-curious high modernism created on a shoestring budget. Native Land takes a whole different approach, that of a nonfiction documentary, released in the early days of World War II that extols the USA’s founding ideals while leveling a bold and rather fearless critique of reactionary forces in privileged positions in society that have mercilessly (and often criminally) exploited laborers and divided the working class against itself through manipulation and brutal, violent repression. Robeson himself never appears on camera; here he employs his robust baritone voice as narrator to enhance the dignity and resonance of the film’s exhortatory text. Native Land is a call to action that sadly went unheard when it was first released, having very limited distribution due to what was considered an untimely and potentially divisive appeal to a nation still establishing its footing in the war. I think it’s a tragedy that the film’s admonitions went unheeded in its time. Even though its message and delivery are clearly dated, and so much has happened since, it deserves a broader audience if for no other reason than to dispel the myth of national unity of purpose that supposedly drew Americans into common cause during the war years of the 1940s.
The Seed of Man (Ferreri, 1969) [656]
Marco Ferreri was an Italian director who traveled in cinematic circles alongside peers like Jean-Luc Godard, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Michelangelo Antonioni, and Bernardo Bertolucci though his name recognition and the availability of his films nowadays are both quite diminished in comparison. His two most famous films, Dillinger is Dead (1969) and La Grande Bouffe (1973), are both readily available through Criterion and Arrow editions respectively, but the rest of his filmography — which began in the late 1950s and continued well into the 90s — presents a challenge to find. I’m fortunate enough to own a nice DVD box set that’s long out of print, and The Seed of Man is one of eight features included in that collection. I sought it out soon after I had a life-changing experience watching Dillinger is Dead back in 2017. Ferreri’s films offer an odd mix of radical politics, outrageous social satire, incisive cultural analysis, brutal but accurate insights into masculine psychology, and long stretches of non-action where characters amble about doing nothing or performing strangely obsessive tasks that don’t always make much sense or seem to be the kind of thing usually captured on film. In The Seed of Man, the follow-up to Dillinger is Dead, we follow a young couple who survive a mysteriously catastrophic plague that wipes out most of the human race in a matter of minutes. Among the remnants that remain unscathed, the woman’s fertility and her potential to extend the species into future generations elevates her status. She and her male partner are put up in a well-stocked but isolated villa on a remote beach so that they can be left to procreate in peace, which the man is rather eager to do. However, the woman raises serious objections to the idea, believing that it’s not their right to bring forth new life in a world so clearly hostile to their very existence. This of course sets up the film’s central tension, and it plays out in weird and unpredictable ways that simply need to be seen for yourself. The Seed of Man, like the other Ferreri films I’ve seen, has this strange ability to plant certain ideas and images in my mind that seem to outperform the actual skill level of cinematic execution on display. Part of this film’s particular charm is the presence of Anne Wiazemsky, best known for her role in Robert Bresson’s Au Hasard Balthazar, her screen debut filmed when she was 18 years old. That initiated an amazing run of late 60s art house performances in films like Godard’s La Chinoise, Week End, Sympathy for the Devil, and Tout va bien and Pasolini’s Teorema and Porcile, among others. In my book, Wiazemsky is as iconic a screen presence as Anna Karina, Catherine Deneuve, or Jeanne Moreau from that same era — though I acknowledge her acting range isn’t quite as broad or evocative. Still, I relish every opportunity to see her in action, and I think she deserves a much stronger cult following than she appears to have.
Wonderwall (Massot, 1968) [1.6k]
Yes, we’ve all heard the Oasis song of the same name, perhaps countless times over the past 30 years (assuming you’ve been alive that long), but how many have actually invested an hour and a half of their earthly existence to see the movie whose soundtrack album inspired the title of that hit single? That soundtrack, by the way, was composed by George Harrison, still a couple years away from the Beatles’ break-up, who took the opportunity to continue his exploration of Indian musical themes and instrumentation and ended up releasing the first solo album ahead of his bandmates. The film itself is an explosion of whimsical pop psychedelia featuring a prominent role for groovy fashion icon Jane Birkin, set design by Dutch collective The Fool (who also worked closely with the Beatles during this phase of their career), and a charmingly awkward, nonsensical plot driven by cheeky British humor and trippy, lysergically-suggestive symbolism. To me, the film is a delightful relic from that brief cultural moment when the call to “turn on, tune in, and drop out” felt like a viable path forward for humanity to put behind us so many of the intractable problems and prejudices that had shackled us for so many centuries of living in civilization. All it would take was just one little peek through that hole in the Wonderwall, and then we’d have the key!
The Pied Piper (Demy, 1972) [2k]
Continuing with my recommendations to wander down the hippie highway, here’s my plug for Jacques Demy’s follow-up to Donkey Skin (1970), which I also think deserves even more exposure than it’s received. But by comparison, The Pied Piper is the victim of outright neglect. That’s entirely understandable from a marketing perspective, as the presence of flower child troubadour Donovan in the title role, tween actor Jack Wild (Oliver!, H.R. Pufnstuf), and the story itself can give the impression that this is a children’s film intended for family-oriented entertainment. At least, that’s typically how we see this old medieval folktale presented in modern times even though the events that occur in its telling are grimly mortal and ominous: a wandering minstrel is hired to rid a plague-infested town of its disease-carrying rat population, but when he does, the local magistrates refuse to compensate him for his services...so he gets his revenge by luring all the children to follow him out into the countryside where they are never seen again. To his credit, Demy does not shy away from the more sinister aspects of the legend, including a scathing portrayal of corruption and hypocrisy by the institutional church. So while critiques of tonal inconsistency and muddled focus are probably applicable to a degree, I don’t think it should stand in the way of enjoying a largely successful adaptation of an archetypal story that still speaks relevantly to contemporary conditions. Demy’s talent for creating visually exciting compositions and fully realized fantasy environments alone make this a very worthwhile film to track down. Here’s a link to a podcast I made about this film in 2022.
Joy House (Clement, 1964) [1.8k]
My final plug for now is this recently-reissued whirlwind affair starring Alain Delon, Jane Fonda, and Lola Albright, and directed by Rene Clement who introduced Delon to the world in Purple Noon (1960) a few years prior. Filmed in black and white, Joy House doesn’t boast the colorful eye-catching Mediterranean hues of the earlier film, but it’s still quite gorgeous with cinematography by Henri Decae and shot in a similarly lush French Riviera setting. The plot involves Delon as a con artist on the run from mobsters out to get him for his indiscretions with the boss man’s wife. He winds up in a luxurious but decaying villa belonging to a wealthy widow (Albright) and her ingenue American cousin (Fonda). While the resulting love triangle predicament itself may be predictable enough, the way it plays out definitely is not. For reasons I can’t understand — especially given the inherent popular appeal that I see jumping off the screen — this movie was hard to find for quite a long time, but earlier this year Kino Lorber published it on Blu-ray in a pristine 2K restoration. They sent me a complimentary review copy, and I made a TikTok video about it which you can view here (includes the trailer).
SPENCER EVERHART:
First, a few shorts...
s01e03 (Walker, 2020) [745]
The Black Tower (Smith, 1987) [7.3k]
Blood Below the Skin (Reeder, 2015) [1k]
Light is Waiting (Robinson, 2007) [2.2k]
Watching the Detectives (Kennedy, 2017) [305]
And now some features...
Charisma (Kurosawa, 1999) [5.3k]
L for Leisure (Kalman & Horn, 2014) [749]
Evil Dead Trap 2: Hideki (Hashimoto, 1992) [2.5k]
Agnes (Reece, 2021) [3.4k]
Losing Ground (Collins, 1982) [9k]
JACKSON EZINGA:
I’m An Electric Lampshade (Doyle, 2021) [30]
I caught this documentary/fiction hybrid at the Mammoth Lakes Film Festival in 2021, and it blew me away! A retired corporate accountant chases his dream of becoming a pop star and he...achieves that dream? Hilarious, odd, and inspiring — you’ve probably never seen anything like this.
Stream: Amazon Prime, Vudu, Tubi
The 4th (Hyland, 2016) [289]
My buddy Andre’s unique comedy style stretched into a feature film about a guy just trying to have a 4th of July BBQ, but everything seems to go wrong. We’ve all had days like this (or at least I have) where every interaction and obstacle Andre encounters goes from bad to worse.
Stream: Peacock, Fubo, Roku Channel, Vudu, Tubi
Mega Time Squad (Van Dammen, 2018) [2.7k]
A goofy, Kiwi, time travel comedy I caught at the 2018 Fantasia International Film Festival. I met the director Tim van Dammen at a bar the night before the screening, and he convinced me to come to the screening and boy am I glad that I did. I laughed throughout!
Stream: Tubi
Crystal Fairy and the Magical Cactus (Silva, 2013) [18k]
Sebastian Silva has become one of my favorite directors this year, and this movie is a masterclass in character development and anxiety cinema. Michael Cera delivers a car crash of a performance playing a character so awful that you just can’t look away, and the titular Crystal Fairy (played exquisitely by Gabby Hoffman) makes you think twice about judging the archetype that she portrays.
Stream: Kanopy, AMC+, Tubi, Mubi
The Civil Dead (Tatum, 2022) [4.1k]
A supernatural buddy comedy starring director Clay Tatum and comedian Whitmer Thomas. I caught this one during Slamdance 2022, and I still can’t get it out of my head. Filled with one liners and great physical comedy, Clay and Whitmer’s onscreen chemistry is hauntingly good.
Stream: Fubo, Paramount+, Hoopla
ERIK HOWARD:
Reprise (Trier, 2006) [39k]
The film whose clever opening lines are tattooed on my arm forever, Reprise is an absolute essential for just about every creative be it through writing, filmmaking, painting, etc. This Norwegian comedy-drama is the directorial debut of Joachim Trier and writing partner Eskil Vogt, who many may remember from 2021’s The Worst Person in the World which introduced Trier and Vogt’s impeccable screenplays and direction to the west even earning two Oscar nominations in ‘Best Original Screenplay’ and ‘Best International Feature Film.’ I was lucky enough to be one of those people introduced to the duo’s incredible talents and made it my goal to go back to where it all began...stumbling on the first of what is titled “The Oslo Trilogy” making up three films: Reprise (2006), Oslo, August 31st (2011), and the aforementioned The Worst Person in the World (2021). Even as the latter remains the best film I’ve ever personally seen, Reprise is truly something special for any creative.
The film follows two friends, Erik (see why I like it? He’s played by Espen Klouman Hoiner) and Phillip (the recognizable Anders Danielsen Lie), both of whom are starry-eyed authors seeking the fame, recognition, and happiness that a published novel could provide either. As the film opens on the two of them in a death stare waiting for each other to make the first move by dropping their completed manuscript in a mailbox, there is just an unspoken hint of hilarity in the situation. You instantly meet these two at age 23 and see delusions of grandeur for the material they hold in their hands; both are happy they’ve completed their novels but there also exists a friendly rivalry between them as they know either’s success would be built on the other's failure. With a simple “good luck” to each other, they drop their novels in the mailbox and walk their separate ways. In an absolutely hilarious move, Trier and Vogt practically insert themselves and their creative process into the film through the most flat and sarcastic narrator you’ve ever heard. For the opening five minutes, we embark on the craziest journey with these two via montage as the pair’s thoughts of stardom manifest through insanely erratic behavior that can only be described as a creative’s wildest dreams. It is easily one of the most lighthearted realizations of all those dreams we share as filmmakers, right? Get that film into a festival and, the next thing you know, you’ve got big shot producers taking a chance on you and giving you a million to fund your first feature? It’s amazing to feel seen by Trier and Vogt who poke fun at these ridiculous notions, yet the two yank us back down to reality by upending Erik’s dreams as his novel is rejected. He falls back into bed after his debut novel is not published...and the narrator simply says: “Erik was relieved when his suspicions were finally confirmed, he was utterly without talent.” Phillip’s novel, however, is actually accepted, sending him to ‘published author’ status and sending the two on very different paths in writing.
Beyond the hilarious intro and friendly premise, Reprise is extremely candid about the creative process. Erik and Phillip reunite following the publishing after learning that Phillip has attempted suicide from the crushing fame and developed a condition of psychosis. As Erik still grinds away at trying to get his novel published, the two meet once again back at what can only be described as zero — each with completely different life experiences in the face of rejection and acceptance. Thus, the two embark on a journey that frankly neither got to experience together: the journey of self-discovery in the face of rejection. When your closest friend is instantly catapulted to stardom, how do you cope as a fledgeling writer? When your friend is left behind, how do you expect him to understand the concept of fame let alone even understand what it means to write a novel whose quality granted such success? The two of them live on the extremes of the creative spectrum and, given their age, are attempting to cope with what a future looks like with their respective successes or lack thereof. As filmmakers, this journey is one that is ultimately as volatile as it is long. The stories of filmmakers are either sent to the trash and Youtube graveyard, or somehow land on the laptop of one of Hollywood’s greatest producers who just can’t wait to give you a lump sum and get you in the door with Netflix. It just feels as if there’s no middle-ground, and for an indie scene like Grand Rapids and beyond...that’s crushing sometimes. But Trier and Vogt tackled this in their first film; rather than suffering the weight of the creative process they created an entire feature exposing the darkness, happiness, and excitement that comes with being a creative seemingly in a bid to validate the feelings of those who are viewers to Erik and Phillip’s journeys.
Reprise is a film that truly feels like the predecessor to The Worst Person in the World via the duo's signature filmmaking approach. Trier and Vogt’s ability to write dialogue (which I’m still not convinced is actually written given how authentic it is) creates engaging characters and directs them in a way that you feel you’re a fly-on-the-wall in these stories, and they top it off with absolutely exceptional visuals and cinematic scenes taking place in everyday life that are a marvel to behold. While this film was most definitely made with lofty ambitions in mind, it still feels comforting as a filmmaker to meet the two at the beginning of their journey...to witness the trials and tribulations of the creative process and the desire to persevere and succeed yet remain in touch with the hopeful person that saw their name in lights...to see how the journey is only just beginning for so many of us yet the fear of rejection and invalidation makes it feel life or death. I can’t recommend this film enough to the many folks I’ve met at GRFS roundtables, pitch night, and beyond.
You deserve to be heard, validated, and respected for your work — and this directorial debut from Joachim Trier and Eskil Vogt is a testament to that. No matter how successful this film was with a Sundance and TIFF debut, it doesn’t forget about people like you and I who are still working harder than ever to become the best artist we can be.
CALEB FRANCIS JENKINS:
Lucky (Lynch, 2017) [43k]
A great reminder of pause, a perspective on life.
Asparagus (Pitt, 1979) [15k]
So fucking weird. Watch here.
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen (Gilliam, 1988) [51k]
A journey of theater-film storytelling. So fun!
Totally F***ed Up (Araki, 1993) [31k]
I’m slowly making my way through Gregg Araki’s filmography. This one burped up all the old shit from being a teen and feeling things. Necessary exploration.
Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (Schrader, 1985) [76k]
Just absolutely beautiful in so many ways...maybe in my Top 10.
The Science of Sleep (Gondry, 2006) [57k]
The creative/life process.
KYLE MACCIOMEI:
We Are Little Zombies (Nagahisa, 2019) [5k]
Ever wonder if there was an entire genre of films like Scott Pilgrim vs. the World? Films where their cinematic language become a cosmic amalgamation of video games, graphic novels, and anime?
Enter We Are Little Zombies, a 2019 Japanese feature I was able to catch at its world premiere at Sundance. I was saddened to hear that it never got picked up for even a limited theatrical release here in the US, but I am happy to report that it is available to stream right now on Peacock.
A film from first-time director Makoto Nagahisa whose past work on music videos alongside his love of video game aesthetics will win over anyone looking to scratch that Edgar Wright/Bryan Lee O'Malley itch — especially now that you've just finished watching Scott Pilgrim Takes Off on Netflix.
GRIFFIN SHERIDAN:
Darkman (Raimi, 1990) [81k]
A little over a decade before taking audiences on the “ultimate spin” with Spider-Man (2002), Sam Raimi made Darkman. The film, which stars Liam Neeson and Frances McDormand, pays homage to comic books and classic monster films and is bursting at the seams with Raimi’s signature camp.
Beyond the Black Rainbow (Cosmatos, 2010) [47k]
Those who enjoyed director Panos Cosmatos’ 2018 sophomore outing, Mandy, should check out his first feature. The seeds for the aesthetic choices he makes in Mandy are all here in this similarly atmospheric piece of sci-fi, which features a handful of trippy sequences that I still find myself thinking about from time to time.
Cemetery of Splendor (Weerasethakul, 2015) [22k]
Weerasethakul’s meditation on the state of his homeland floats along with a hypnotic quality while also conjuring a number of striking visuals. It remains one of the most accurate depictions of ‘dream logic’ I’ve seen put to film.
SPECIAL GUEST CONTRIBUTOR
HARRISON LANGE of Static Tape Video:
Simon Killer (Campos, 2012) [7.9k]
Directed by Antonio Campos, Simon Killer is a meticulously crafted character study of a sociopathic man. The film takes its time to build an uncomfortable viewing that would not be effective without the awesome and intimidating performance by Brady Corbert.
Loveless (Zvyagintsev, 2017) [48k]
One thing you can guarantee with director Andrey Zvyagintsev is you are going to be devastated by the time the credits roll, and Loveless does not hold back. The performances and direction have you hoping for any good news as if your own kid is missing.
UPCOMING EVENTS
ENTER THE DRAGON (Clouse, 1973)
WHAT: Bruce Lee plays a martial arts expert determined to help capture the narcotics dealer whose gang was responsible for the death of his sister.
WHEN: Sunday, January 7th, 4:00pm
WHERE: The Wealthy Theatre
ENTER THE CLONES OF BRUCE (Gregory, 2023)
WHAT: *MICHIGAN PREMIERE!* Producers, scholars, aficionados, and some of the kung fu movement's biggest stars reminisce over a bygone era of gonzo plotlines, shoestring budgets, and questionable taste in this new documentary.
WHEN: Wednesday, January 10th, 8:00pm
WHERE: The Wealthy Theatre
WHAT: An extension of our FILM SOCIETY ROUNDTABLE social events — Up to 20 independent filmmakers will have the opportunity to pitch their concepts to other local creatives in the hopes of finding future collaborators.
WHEN: Thursday, January 18th, 7:00pm
WHERE: The Wealthy Theatre - Koning Microcinema
THE QUIET GIRL (Bairead, 2022)
WHAT: A nine-year-old girl from a dysfunctional family goes to live with distant relatives for the summer. Living with a middle-aged farm couple, she discovers a new way of living. *PRESENTED BY CHIAROSCURO INTERNATIONAL FILM SERIES.*
WHEN: Sunday, January 21st, 2:00pm
WHERE: The Wealthy Theatre
Yes, Beam from the Booth is heading on another brief hiatus to allow everyone space to breathe and enjoy their holiday season. We just gave you all enough homework in this issue anyway.
We’ll be back early January with our 40th ISSUE, the special “Best of 2023” edition!
From the bottom of our hearts, THANK YOU for such a spectacular 2023. While this iteration of the Grand Rapids Film Society was formally started in October 2022, it’s fair to say we didn’t quite hit our stride until early 2023. This year, we hosted a total of 42 events. We are so proud of each and every one of them, and we can’t wait to bring even more to our community in 2024.
We’ll see you at the movies!
- The GRFS Board
And so we’ve arrived at the end of another BEAM FROM THE BOOTH! We appreciate you taking the time to read it and truly hope you’ll continue to do so. Be sure to SUBSCRIBE to get each issue in your inbox every SUNDAY, and stay up-to-date on all things GRFS.
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Until then, friends...
