The Carreón Cinema Club: “It’s a Disaster!” Edition

The Carreón Cinema Club: “It’s a Disaster!” Edition

Watching famous people all running for their lives in a disaster film was an indelible viewing experience for years. It comforted me knowing even THEY could avoid the natural and human-made forces that threaten us all, at least on film.

However, my view on disaster films did evolve into something a little more profound. Real-life is not as bad being on an Earth hurtling towards the sun, living the aftermath of a nuclear war, or caught in a swarm of killer bees with Oscar-winning legends who should have known better.

Despite the plethora of pretenders to the disaster film throne, the holy trinity of The Poseidon Adventure, Earthquake, and The Towering Inferno reign supreme for reasons that have much to do with their hammy star casts, sprawling narratives, and varying degrees of special effects. I decided to focus on films that eschewed camp or offered a more grounded reality to the term “disaster.” With tongue firmly placed in cheek, too, here are a few of my favorite disaster epics for your viewing pleasure.

The Day the Earth Caught Fire (1961)

Directed by Val Guest

Cast: Edward Judd, Leo McKern, Janet Munro

Streaming on Prime Video

Released in 1961 and considered a science-fiction masterpiece today, what I love most about The Day the Earth Caught Fire is that it puts a relatable human face on the prospect of catastrophe. A group of Londoners deal with the unthinkable: recent US and Russian nuclear tests succeed in changing the Earth’s orbit, propelling it towards the sun. The sight of an alcoholic newsman seeking redemption in covering the story of a lifetime is heroic in many ways. He’s awakened from his self-pitying slumber to deal with an uncertain future for all humankind.

The groundbreaking special effects do not pull you out of the story. Instead, they illustrate the rising threat in a severe, not camp, manner. Things get toasty as it reaches a defiantly ambiguous final act to make its era-defining point. The ending shots were altered for US audiences to offer a glimmer of hope with a telling sound effect. Watch it and decide which proves the more gratifying conclusion. Either way, it is a memorable viewing experience.

Threads (1984)

Directed by Mick Jackson

Cast: Karen Meagher, Reece Dinsdale

Streaming on Kanopy and Prime Video

Leave it to the Brits to conjure up TWO realistic and terrifying realizations of nuclear war ever aired on television. In 1966, the BBC approved the production of The War Game, a mock-documentary chronicling the effects of a nuclear attack. The network was so horrified at the result; it pulled the film from broadcast. The War Game did receive a limited theatrical release in the UK and a film festival run, even earning a 1967 Oscar for Best Documentary Feature Film. However, it did not air publicly until 1985, paired with a showing of the acclaimed 1984 telefilm Threads.

The prospect of a US/Soviet nuclear war was all-too-real in the 1980s, creating a nervous tension that is still palpable. US audiences who didn’t possess an opinion on nuclear weapons’ stockpiling sure as hell had something to think about when the ABC network unleashed director Nicholas Meyer’s The Day After in 1983. The following year, the BBC aimed not to shy away from a nuclear exchange’s hard truths on British soil, resulting in the harrowing and devastating Threads.

A generation remains marked by both films as Threads did air in the US. Its relentless vision of a Soviet attack on Britain and its effects on two Sheffield families hurts to watch at times. What separates Threads from The Day After is that it takes viewers on a journey that lasts over a decade beyond the initial attack. Along with writer Barry Hines, Director Jackson does not hold back on depicting the visual impact or veracity of what awaits humankind after a nuclear war. The final image will stay with you for a long time. Grim and shattering, it remains a television milestone that has lost none of its power or relevance.

The Swarm (1978)

Directed by Irwin Allen

Cast: Michael Caine, Katharine Ross, Richard Widmark, Richard Chamberlain, Olivia de Havilland, Slim Pickens, and Henry Fonda

Rent/Purchase on Prime Video, iTunes, YouTube

Okay, after witnessing the end of the world as we know it with Threads, take a break and laugh your ass off with The Swarm. Director Irwin Allen thought he could do NO wrong after scoring back to back hits with The Poseidon Adventure and The Towering Inferno. Like Icarus, he came crashing back to Earth thanks to the killer bees of The Swarm. Like many fans of the genre, I raced to the cinema with every new Airport sequel, The Cassandra Crossing, Rollercoaster, Avalanche, all of them B-movies at best, sure. But when it came time to watch a “Bee” movie where they wreak havoc all over southern Texas, we knew the genre’s most successful master of disaster had jumped the hive.

Names, names, names, fill out this massive ensemble cast of Turner Classic Movie tributes, some of whom show up for a scene or two and then disappear. Most of the cast feels the sting or gets offed without a second thought. The effects are beyond belief at times, especially when you think about audiences embraced such landmark films as Star Wars and Superman had already been released. And can someone explain how Michael Caine knew precisely when to show up at the first attack on a military base? Some characters question it, but the answer is never really established, which drove me crazy then and now. Incredibly, The Swarm earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Costume Design, too! Allen wouldn’t let the failure of The Swarm get him down, though. Fans of the genre did scope out Beyond the Poseidon Adventure; the release of When Time Ran Out pretty much proved prophetic for Allen and the genre for a long while.

Airport (1970)

Directed by George Seaton

Cast: Burt Lancaster, Dean Martin, Jean Seberg, Jacqueline Bisset, George Kennedy, and Helen Hayes

Rent/Purchase on Prime Video, iTunes, YouTube

So how did this genre take flight in the first place, you ask? We’d had versions of planes in distress before, but you can blame the success of Airport in 1970. Based on Arthur Hailey’s best-seller, the film adaptation gave the disaster film a hearty launch with this Oscar-nominated box office titan.

All you had to do after Airport was cast a bunch of screen legends and hope one of them would earn an Academy Award as the great Helen Hayes did with this morality tale with wings. A snowstorm, overworked husbands, shrew wives, philandering pilots, pregnant flight attendants, and one deranged bomber proved the right mix, though. All dressed by the great Edith Head; producer Ross Hunter made a mint with this glittering swill. So much so, Universal kept going back to the hangar for three more films! Bless. And I went to each one with excitement, until The Concorde: Airport ’79 grounded the franchise for good. Still, you never forget your “first” disaster film, and the original Airport and The Poseidon Adventure remain my truest loves.

Greenland (2020)

Directed by Ric Roman Waugh

Cast: Gerard Butler, Morena Baccarin, and Scott Glenn

Premieres on December 18 on VOD, followed by HBOMax

What about the disaster films of today? Well, bless Roland Emmerich for keeping the Irwin Allen spirit alive with such films as 2012 and The Day After Tomorrow, which coined the term “disaster porn” for their extensive and bludgeoning film effects.

In 1997, Mick Jackson of Threads fame would score a minor hit with Volcano, which had its magma muted by Dante’s Peak, released earlier that year, and became a family favorite for reasons you won’t believe. Let’s not forget the dueling comet dramas Deep Impact and Armageddon from 1998. Personally, the 1996 hit Twister continues to reverberate as strongly as the 1970s classics for the same reasons. An able cast and corkscrew dialogue is essential for the genre to make an impact.

Still, its characters’ humanity is one ingredient that is always short-changed by the massive resources put into the effects. That is why I am looking forward to upcoming Greenland with Gerard Butler. The film seems like it puts an equal premium on the emotional impact of the disaster on its ensemble players, not just their impending doom’s visuals elements. Disaster films with a message will always get me in front of a screen, reaffirming the thought that it can’t be worse for us in real life? Right? Well, maybe not these days.

The Carreón Cinema Club: Election Day Edition

The Carreón Cinema Club: Election Day Edition

If you’re like me, this Election Day is all about comfort food and comfort movies. If you need to break away from the pundits & prognosticators, here are the Carreón Cinema Club’s Top Five Election Day Movies to help steady, or jangle, your nerves as we await the results of a lifetime.

  • TED (2012) – Feeling the need to bust a gut, look no further than Seth MacFarlane’s Oscar-nominated hit, TED. One of my favorite R comedies ever, the image of a trash-mouthed, alcoholic teddy bear is perfect for tonight. Starring Mark Wahlberg and Mila Kunis, prepare for a case of the moist fuzzies thanks to MacFarlane’s pitch-perfect voice performance as Ted. It’s for anyone who needs a thunder buddy tonight.
  • THE PHILADELPHIA STORY (1940) – One of my favorite films ever, George Cukor’s 1940 classic THE PHILADELPHIA, is as perfect a comedy as you’ll ever see. Starring Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn, and James Stewart in his only Oscar-winning performance, this is a film to treasure thanks to a screenplay that is practically music to your ears. Classy, legendary, and funny in its depiction of class, media, and marriage, you will swoon away the anxiety in no time.
  • WOMEN ON THE VERGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN (1988) –Tap into the pop kitsch of Spanish iconoclast Pedro Almódovar’s first mainstream hit, WOMEN ON THE VERGE OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN. This Spanish-language comedy from 1988 reveals how far an anxious woman will go to get a call back from a straying lover. A hilarious look at relationships and gender, you’ll be ignoring your telephone as election updates start coming in.
  • NETWORK (1976) – If you need something a little more substantive, why not Paddy Chayefsky’s brutally funny but accurate look at media with NETWORK. Directed by Sidney Lumet, this prophetic movie details how a last-place network taps into the era’s popular rage with outrageous and tragic results. Featuring William Holden and Robert Duvall, it is the Oscar-winning trio of Faye Dunaway and Peter Finch, along with Chayefsky’s script that makes this film a classic for any media age.
  • Z (1969) – For the nihilists just looking for a cathartic release, may I suggest Costa-Gavras’ Z, a dark and chilling account of Greek politics following the assassination of a Greek political leader. Inspired by real events, Z’s representation of the event’s aftermath, including a mass cover-up and a coup d’etat, is sobering and all-too timely. One of the first films to be nominated for Best Picture and Best Foreign Film Oscars, winning for the latter. Unforgettable.

Hang in there, mi gente. We have each other for whatever happens next. See you on the other side of history.

The Carreón Cinema Club: Día de los Muertos Edition

The Carreón Cinema Club: Día de los Muertos Edition

Hola, mi gente! Feliz Día de los Muertos from the Carreón Cinema Club.

One of Latin America’s most revered cultural traditions, the Day of the Dead, has infiltrated el norte with gusto. Even Target gets into it these days! However, what thrills me more is how a particular group of filmmakers endeavored to craft two fantastic animated films that have broadened the reach and power of these special days celebrating the dead.

First up, Jorge R. Gutierrez’s gorgeous and inventive 2014 adventure, THE BOOK OF LIFE, produced by Oscar-winning director Guillermo del Toro, nominated for a Golden Globe Award as Best Animated Feature Film.

If that wasn’t enough, Disney/Pixar wasn’t going to be left out of the ofrenda, creating the 2017 family classic COCO, directed by Lee Unkrich. But something tells me you already know a little something about that not-so little blockbuster. (Hint: It received two Academy Awards, including Best Animated Feature Film.)

Both films remain heartfelt and poignant to me, but I have a special place for THE BOOK OF LIFE. The visual artistry devised by Gutierrez and team is so original, emulating the love and passion of Latino artisans in several mediums and multiple generations. The textures, the colors, and Mexicaness of it all live in the myriad details that populate the screen. If you haven’t seen it, please make an effort to add it to your family viewing choices.

Until next time, amigos! And por Dios, subscribe to the Carreón Cinema Club already!

Here’s a link to an easy primer on the significance of Día de los Muertos, written by the Smithsonian Institute: https://www.si.edu/blog/5-facts-about-dia-de-los-muertos-day-dead

The Carreón Cinema Club: Halloween Edition

The Carreón Cinema Club: Halloween Edition

Real life is probably scarier now than ever, but a little artificial fear mixed with nostalgia is still a damn good treat for the senses. If you are finding yourself eager to shut out all that ails us in this pandemic/election double feature of doom, why not try my Fright Night Five Film Festival?

Alien (1979) – Ridley Scott’s epic monster in space story still packs a wallop. Often imitated but never equaled, the original ALIEN defined a new era for the genre. Exquisitely minimalistic in execution, it is a slow burn of building suspense until it explodes with terror and primal violence. It remains my favorite scary film ever, despite the diminishing returns of the franchise.

Runner up: James Cameron’s 1986 militaristic mash-up ALIENS, which turned Oscar-nominated star Sigourney Weaver into a hero archetype for the ages.  

Carrie (1976) – Stephen King’s classic novel Carrie is a perfect expression of teen rage, manifested in a young woman with telekinetic powers. A visualized by director Brian De Palma,  CARRIE is a riveting blend of psychological drama and terror that reaches its devastating peak with a prom sequence for the ages.

However, the moments in between depicting Carrie being bullied at school by classmates and at home by her overbearing Bible-thumping mother give the film its most haunting and human qualities. Beautifully interpreted by future Oscar winner Sissy Spacek, CARRIE has since evolved into a cautionary tale that plays out even today with equally devastating results.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) – Teenagers and horror go together better than “Boogey” and “man” for a reason. Leave it the horror auteur Wes Craven to create the ultimate nihilistic symbol of consequence: Freddy Krueger. Craven’s A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET is terrifying because its villain results from the vigilante justice engaged by a group of parents seeking to stop a predatory child murderer. When their teenagers start to die one by one, this narrative of an unstoppable vengeful ghost instantly became mythic and a perfect representation of our current ethos. What happens when you can’t take care of your kids in an era of rampant American individualism? That’s a nightmare, alright.

Halloween (1978) – If you’re a child of the late 1970s and early 1980s, you will remember where you were when the theme to John Carpenter’s HALLOWEEN scared the shit out of you for the first time. It rivals John Williams’ theme to “Jaws” as a harbinger of death. The slasher film was alive and well, an outburst of anarchy brought on by the American Dream’s demise. After Vietnam, Nixon, and the gas crisis, America was numb and angry, among other societal malaise. New cultural monsters were born, and standing tall amongst them was the notorious and sadistic Michael Myers.

Myers was rage incarnate, another silent and vengeful killing machine, and it didn’t matter who stood in his way. As a horror film, it is a compelling example of cause and effect. You watch, you scream, and you laugh nervously at your reaction. It helps that star Jamie Lee Curtis as Laurie Strode is such a relatable screen heroine. We are all Laurie in that we will survive, dammit. However, look closer and try to project into the film what you fear at this moment in time. It’s a whole different movie experience. Trust me.

The Exorcist (1973) – If you’re craving tales of demonic possession, then THE EXORCIST is for you. What makes William Friedkin’s visceral supernatural thriller so compelling is having a young child at the center of a terrifying reality. Stars Ellen Burstyn and Linda Blair are like watching a beautiful duet of humanity as a mother and daughter, even as all hell breaks loose in their Georgetown home.

In 1973, audiences reacted to this film by waiting in line for hours, some in freezing weather, to get a ticket. THE EXORCIST became part of the national conversation, even surpassing the Watergate scandal for a moment. Nearly 50 years later, though, aspects of THE EXORCIST feel quaint in terms of effects. The narrative, however, still shakes you up hard. It is a superbly crafted film experience, preying on all that you fear, whether you’re religious or not. Don’t watch it alone in the dark – or better yet, do. You’ll see and hear things all over the house that are NOT on your screen.

Enjoy the first ever Fright Night Five from the Carreón Cinema Club, mi gente. Be safe and sane out there — and wear a pinche mask! It’s alright tonight, ya tú sabes!

The Carreón Cinema Club: Journey to Italy (1954) and The Human Voice (1967)

The Carreón Cinema Club: Journey to Italy (1954) and The Human Voice (1967)

Welcome back to the Carreón Cinema Club. Get ready for a double feature of failing marriages and the importance of communication. But seriously, both films are remarkable for their emotional frankness and the artistry of the great Ingrid Bergman.

It is not a coincidence that I am focusing on another glamorous Swede after debuting the Club with Greta Garbo. The luminous Ingrid Bergman, a three-time Oscar winner, couldn’t avoid becoming a Hollywood legend thanks to such films as Notorious, Gaslight, and, of course, Casablanca. However, the discovery of her later works on the Kanopy and Prime Video channels revealed to me how she was one artist who didn’t shy from taking a chance on difficult material, especially at a time where public perception was actually against her.

After representing the perfect leading lady image in the 1940s, Bergman’s popularity took a severe hit in the early 1950s thanks to her relationship with Italian director Robert Rossellini. They had met while working on Stromboli in 1949, kindling a passionate affair. Both were married to other people. More, Bergman was also pregnant with her first child with the famed director. Deemed “scandalosa,” the actress stayed exiled in Europe for several years. Yet, that didn’t stop the duo from working together. Bergman’s collaborations with Rossellini were often compelling and nothing like her films that garnered her much success.

According to daughter, actress Isabella Rossellini said in a recent interview with Reuters, “She showed that women are independent, that women want to tell their own story, want to take the initiative, but sometimes they can’t because sometimes our social culture doesn’t allow women to break away from certain rules.”

Watching JOURNEY TO ITALY on Kanopy only reaffirms her daughter’s sentiments. Coupled with Rossellini’s stature as one of the most prominent members of the neo-realist movement in world cinema, Bergman flourished with portraying complex women who break the rules attached to traditional gender roles.

Much like Nicole Kidman today, Bergman had no problem stripping down the veneers of poise and gentility to reveal her truest self. Her emotional vulnerability resulted in a fascinating showcase in THE HUMAN VOICE, a one-hour televised adaptation of the famed and influential Jean Cocteau monologue. Speaking to an audience of one via telephone, Bergman captures all that can dismantle us when communication with a loved one becomes difficult and unbearable.

I love films that deal with unfiltered relationships and offer real psychology as to why we put ourselves through such trials, even when we face an absolute end. It makes for incredibly beautiful catharsis on film. That’s why Bergman leads this second entry of the Carreón Cinema Club. First up, JOURNEY TO ITALY.

Journey to Italy (1954)

Director: Roberto Rossellini

Cast: Ingrid Bergman, George Sanders

In JOURNEY TO ITALY, Bergman co-stars with George Sanders of All About Eve and Rebecca fame. As the film opens, the signs are evident that the moneyed duo of Kathryn and Alex Joyce may be facing the end of their marriage. Heading by car to Naples to unload an inherited villa, their trip starts as a vacation, a chance to reconnect. Instead, they find their conversations taxed by Alex’s sarcasm and Kathryn’s hair-trigger sentimentality. At constant odds for most of the trip, misunderstandings and jealousy sully the waters further, prompting Kathryn to ask for a divorce on impulse. Where the film takes a stunning turn, however, is when they visit the almost lunar landscape ruins of Pompeii. Seeing the discovered bodies of former lovers encased for eternity in ashes rattles Kathryn to the point that she begs Alex for them to leave. The impact is profound, one that delivers a final scene that is both powerful and unforgettable.

JOURNEY TO ITALY is no travelogue, although Rossellini’s composition of black and white shots is often beautiful and striking. No, the territory covered is all heart and mind. It is a fascinating journey to watch, even though not a lot happens for most of the film until the final act. The non-linear trajectory of the narrative, however, is what gives the story its forward motion. What captured my attention most was how urgent the emotions played throughout. Director Rossellini would tell the actors their dialogue before cameras started rolling, which sounds like a risky endeavor. Yet, Sanders, and especially Bergman, deliver such raw and unfiltered performances, you can only imagine how it felt like working without a net. The possibility erases any chance for overembellishment, never robbing the characters of their truth. They are living it out loud at that moment. That is why JOURNEY TO ITALY is such a wonderful experience to watch, one I hope you enjoy as well. It continues to be available on Kanopy. Take the journey. It is so worth it.

The Human Voice (1967)

Based on the play by Jean Cocteau

Adapted by Carl Wildman

Director: Ted Kotcheff

Cast: Ingrid Bergman

Jean Cocteau’s famed one-act play, has returned to court public attention this year thanks to Spain’s Oscar-winning auteur Pedro Almódovar. The toast of the 2020 Venice Film Festival, Almódovar took a giant creative leap with his adaptation, a short film no less, and in English! For the first time. Ay la leche! Starring the equally fearless Tilda Swinton, the threads of his passion for Cocteau’s have finally flourished. You can see how the story of a woman’s desperate phone call proved influential for his iconic 1988 comedy Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. As we await the US release of his adaptation of THE HUMAN VOICE, what a pleasant surprise to know we have access to Ingrid Bergman’s interpretation of the role to offer a study of contrasts.

Now streaming on Prime Video as part of its Broadway HD channel, THE HUMAN VOICE finished the one-season run of the ABC anthology series, ABC Stage 67. Bergman stars as an unnamed woman dealing with the emotional wreckage after her husband leaves her for another woman. We are allowed to hear what is probably be the last conversation between this couple, but only her voice. Representing her husband is the cold instrument known as a telephone, her literal lifeline as she makes a desperate attempt to stay connected in more ways than the unpredictable wire. We never hear from him, only seeing clues of his torn picture and a magazine feature image of his new love.

The premise is unadorned, offering an actor a bravura role that lasts just under an hour. Bergman takes full advantage. Chainsmoking and unable to keep her voice was quavering, she turns herself into a human rollercoaster of emotions, rising and falling throughout the often-painful conversation. Forget the part of her being famous; it is hard not to feel uncomfortable for eavesdropping before the famed actress hits specific notes that feel both personal and relatable as the conversation reaches its peak. The audio effects of a clock ticking, dial tones and silences on the other line are often intrusive and heartbreaking, punctuating the reality she’s not going to turn this situation around in her favor.

The look is all 60s television, abstract and theatrical. The camera work is not subtle, and the pauses for commercial breaks are annoying as transitions. Bergman feels a bit mannered at the start. Yet, it is a beautifully calibrated star turn by the end, offering a persona that is real and honest. Amazing what the human voice can do to us when we know it is close to being removed from our spheres of living.

You can see what several artists have taken on Cocteau’s play. Interestingly, Roberto Rossellini directed THE HUMAN VOICE in 1948 as part of a two-part Italian film titled L’Amore with Anna Magnani and Federico Fellini. It is now showing on HBO Max, which I will make a point to watch.

Thanks for reading this second installment of the Carreón Cinema Club, home of films with big feelings! Don’t forget to subscribe to the YouTube channel, as well as follow me on Instagram: @CarreonCinemaClub and Twitter: @CarreonClub. Lots more to share ahead. Keep on reading. Thanks for your attention, mi gente.

The Carreón Cinema Club: “The Little Prince” (1974)

The Carreón Cinema Club: “The Little Prince” (1974)

Amazing how Hollywood dared to take on the task of adapting “kidult” tales in the 1970s, finding indifference at the box office in the process.

George Cukor took on “The Blue Bird,” an American-Russian venture that had its wings cut by critics in 1978. Producer David L. Wolper brought forth an imaginative take on Roald Dahl’s iconic “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” which found fame after its initial release in 1971. Or, how about Sidney Lumet’s gorgeously designed vision of Oz as an urban fantasia in “The Wiz,” that landed with a thud in 1978 when the Broadway smash was transformed into big budget lesson in EST? Somewhere in the middle, you will find Stanley Donen’s 1974 musical film THE LITTLE PRINCE.

Written by Count Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, THE LITTLE PRINCE endures as one of the most treasured books of the 20th century. A delicate fable of a young boy who lives alone on asteroid B-612, its fantastic vision has inspired various adaptations, from ballet to opera and, especially, film. An animated version was eschewed theatrical release and streamed on Netflix in 2016. However, it is the live-action musical version directed by Donen continues to orbit in some film circles.

Panned by critics during its release, THE LITTLE PRINCE is a real cinematic oddity. Featuring the last film score of the legendary duo Alan Jay Lerner & Frederick Lowe (“My Fair Lady,” “Camelot”), Donen dared to craft an abstract, yet sweeping vision of the original novella with to erratic effect. Starring Richard Kiley as a pilot who encounters the Little Prince (newcomer Steven Warren) after his plane goes down in the desert. As the little boy who has fallen to earth, the two forge a friendship while the pilot attempts to repair his plane. He relegates the grown-up with tales of his space journeys, venturing to other planetoids, seeking answers about the meaning of life, love, war, and the pursuit of knowledge.

No one he meets seems to think he’s old enough to understand the answers, that he’s only a child. It isn’t until he meets a fox (Gene Wilder) that seeks to be tamed and a perfidious snake (the amazing Bob Fosse) that he starts to understand the truth about life and death. Before the Little Prince dies, he shares his knowledge with the pilot, bringing the man’s journey full circle. The pilot, realizing the boy was just a figment of his imagination, takes off anew, hearing the sound of the Little Prince’s laughter as gazes into the starry night.

Despite its luscious score, THE LITTLE PRINCE’s musical numbers fall curiously flat.  Despite the efforts of such stage luminaries as Kiley (“Man of La Mancha”), dancer Donna McKechnie (“A Chorus Line”), and Clive Revill (“Oliver”), all working hard to make it work, the narrative sections are a lot more compelling. More, little Steven Warner’s performance is oddly wistful and distracting thanks to the Phyllis Diller wig plunked on his head. Worse, Warner at times feels swamped by the production, beautifully shot on location in Tunisia.  Yet, moments occur when the film fires all cylinders, where Donen’s skill to capture motion and music feel beautifully realized. The highlight is Bob Fosse’s rendition of “A Snake in the Grass,” featuring his sinuous choreography. It is a mesmerizing piece of artistry, one that deserves a chance to be relished. (Word is this section hugely influenced the late Michael Jackson, best evidenced by his performance in “Billie Jean.”)

British child actor Steven Warner with American dancer and choreographer Bob Fosse (1927 – 1987) on the set of the film ‘The Little Prince’ in Tunisia, 1974. They play the parts of The Little Prince and The Snake respectively. (Photo by Keith Hamshere/Getty Images)

To be honest, viewing the film with a 2020 context will raise a few eyebrows, which is why it is important to leave any cancel culture sensibilities out of the mix. Yes it is flawed, but THE LITTLE PRINCE is fascinating in its attempt to bring Golden Age into the evolving universe of the 1970s. Lerner & Lowe did not have in common with the studio, opting out of the recording sessions. Donen would not reach the apex of his career that brought us “Singin’ in the Rain,” “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers,” “Funny Face,” and “Charade.” The 1970s proved unkind to the director, marred by such high-profile failures as “Lucky Lady” with Liza Minnelli and Burt Reynolds in 1975 and the notorious sci-fi thriller “Saturn 3” with Kirk Douglas and Farrah Fawcett in 1980. You have to credit Donen for wanting to keep relevant as the industry changed with incredible speed.

Despite its hitting a few harsh chords, the message at its poignant end is one for the ages. We have a choice in how we see the world; that choice ultimately defines us. Sometimes it does take a child to lead us to that part of ourselves before we trade our innocence for weary experience. Its simplicity struck me as a fitting grace note, especially with what we witness on the daily of late. While THE LITTLE PRINCE may have struggled to unleash the imagination of its source material, it remains proof that even those films deemed failures can still offer something for an audience willing to appreciate its joys.

THE LITTLE PRINCE is now streaming on The Criterion Channel through October 31st.

The Carreón Cinema Club: An Introduction

The Carreón Cinema Club: An Introduction

For as long as I can remember, movies were my refuge of choice whenever the world felt like it was out of control. Even more so than books, films were that perfect, transcendent experience.

Genre did not matter to me, at least not at first. I allowed myself to be transported beyond worlds big and small with time, from fantasy to gritty realism, from historical epics to contemporary narratives of great emotion and truth. It didn’t matter the language, either. What mattered most was what captured by the camera and how it made me feel. At 53 and with over 25 years of working in the film industry, the education I’ve received introduced new perspectives and profound respect for those who dare to engage an audience.

With today’s comment box mobs raking most efforts through the coals instead of offering profound analysis, it is hard not to take offense. If you don’t like what you see, make your own damn film. See how it feels! Worse, in this era of YouTube and TikTok stars, I fear the historical significance of so many masterworks from the past will simply turn to dust.

While I understand streaming platforms’ entertainment value, I admit I was slow in making them a part of my viewing outlets. I still prefer sitting in a plush movie theater, a luxury I sorely miss during these days of the pandemic. When I do connect with the streamers, I find more comfort watching television series from the past than anything of the moment. Some days you just want a nice grilled cheese sandwich with a hot bowl of tomato soup, right? In reality, I accept not being the demo for most mainstream streaming platforms’ original programming. Thankfully, friends and colleagues have offered sublime alternatives, which has turned my living room into an international film festival.

A pattern is emerging from what I’ve made time to watch these last few months. Seeking distraction from what ails us is not always an admission that serious events undermine our fragile and privileged peace of mind and ways of life. It is essential to be aware, to make a difference through educated activism or donating to a cause, all actionable outreach, to ensure these dark days are not the harbinger of worse things to come. My motivation to turn away from social media, in particular, was to stop screaming into a void, to not contribute to the virtue signaling of hashtag politics, and to fully restore a sense of civility and humanity, at least in my sphere of living.

I’ve found so much to ponder and marvel thanks to The Criterion Channel, Kanopy, and the TCM App. While Hulu and Amazon Prime possess some gems, I didn’t expect the sites mentioned earlier to remind me why I fell in love with film oh-so-many years ago. Expertly curated, they offer a window into the world, past, present, and even a bit of the future. From a personal level, I find my faith in the creative process restored as I reflect on the universal themes and emotions that inspire us to write, act, and roll the cameras.

We don’t know what lies ahead in our shared futures, but I resolved to view 2020 as a bittersweet gift. This painful reality we continue to witness is a much-needed moment to take stock and build a better self. We may never get a chance like this again. Why not look back at our world film history and see what we can carry forward in terms of the art we seek? In any language, the power of cinema is its ability to capture a moment in time. For however long the feature lasts, you know events happened, a group of likeminded artists lived it, and their record of said events remains eternal. You will feel the best part, for at times you can’t help but think it still can be a beautiful life, indeed.

Since I was in middle school, I wanted to be a film critic. My first printed reviews were on David Lynch’s “The Elephant Man” and the classic comedy “9 to 5,” starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Dolly Parton, both released in 1980. Amazing what can happen to a young David Ansen in 40 years. My career took its path through studio film publicity before reaching its peak as a content producer/interviewer. Still, I never lost sight of that first dream, even achieving it briefly for the excellent Latinx entertainment news site Desde Hollywood. That’s what brings the Carreón Cinema Club full circle.

The Club was inaugurated over a decade ago when my siblings and I would take my late father to the cinema every weekend to see the latest blockbusters. We created this joyful tradition before Alzheimer’s ultimately made it difficult for him to participate during the summer of 2018.

Up until that point, Dad never missed an opening weekend thanks to us. His reviews would often make us smile because you can see he enjoyed being with us in the dark, eating popcorn, and escaping the world for just a moment, too. Dad left us in February 2019. It is that smile of his that guides me through this next project at hand. I will always picture Dad sitting next to me, offering some popcorn or reacting to the film’s incredible sound design on the screen with a “thumb’s up.”

In the days ahead, you will see capsule film reviews highlighting the best of what certain streaming platforms have to offer. Curated with classics from around the world, Hollywood blockbusters, bad movies to love, and other cinematic gems worth your time, the CCC is here to offer a break from what ails us all. A bolt of positivity, no snark, awaits. Either way, it is with the love and emotion that started the CCC I hope translates onto the video chapters to come.

Welcome to the Club!

Subscribe to the Carreón Cinema Club YouTube Channel today.

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Twitter: @CarreonClub

Hail the Fake News of Our Fake King

We are in the midst of a war for the nation’s future. Trump will stop at nothing to secure his despotic agenda for a second term.

Days after the reveal of his not paying taxes, his deplorable performance at the debate, and his trailing behind Biden in the polls, Trump’s October surprise arrived in the form of COVID-19.

We do not need a show biz dictator running the country. We need a leader of bipartisan acumen, heart, and soul. Trump’s continued denial and bungled approach to the pandemic resulted in the deaths of over 200,000 Americans. That he now, suddenly, finds himself afflicted is a sham and an insult to those Americans who have lost a loved one or continue to endure symptoms and other consequences.

We don’t need an October Surprise sequel. We need change. Real change. Vote Trump out. That’s just the first cure in a treatment program to save America.

We were warned…

Don’t make the same mistake twice.

VOTE TRUMP OUT

After subjecting the world to the most horrific trainwreck of a debate, it is painfully clear that our showbiz president is not fit for the job.

Playing the CEO on TV is not enough of a resume item. Never again.

We need civility, not a blowhard with an insatiable ego.

We need a statesperson, not a racist, petulant child who refuses to acknowledge he must lead us all, not just his delusional base.

Trump is a habitual liar, and that quality in a president is dangerous to us all. I fear that if he does win again, he will have little use for his base or anyone else. THAT is what keeps me up at night.

We have a chance to right this Titanic before we all sink into oblivion.

VOTE. BIDEN. 2020. SAVE AMERICA.

Bruised fruit.

Bruised fruit.

Southern California is on fire again, filtering the L.A. sunshine through an apocalyptic haze, a burnished glow that is beautiful and malignant at the same time. I won’t be walking today, avoiding the layer of ash that has fallen overnight, blighting the suburban oasis that is my sanctuary, my home.

It makes sense that I chose to spend the day indoors. I won”t speak for all, but these last months of chaos and quarantine finally forced me into retreat. I don’t know if self-preservation is a last-ditch effort to sustain a sense of inner peace, but avoiding fear, anger, and other negative malaise is my true goal. I keep to myself because my penchant to speak frivolously is out of tune with what we are enduring as a nation and society. How anyone can stand the sights and sounds of an American “president” who insists on trolling the world through Twitter to get attention and spread his brand of lies, hatred, and instability is beyond me.

What I find is that I can’t bring myself to contribute to any dialogue surrounding politics anymore because I find my tenuous sanity threatened and edged towards collapse. I think the scarier truth is perhaps my years of misguided narcissism and self-absorption have been reflected at long last.

Perhaps years of continually promoting the false color and sound of the “Jorge Show,” which first exhausted my closest friends, has finally spent me.

Perhaps the years of living breathlessly to contribute overstimulated conversations about all things fabulous are no longer enough to hide the reality that I’ve worked too hard to cover up my truest self and hide it from the world.

Perhaps these months of stripping away the layers of my own corpulent body and emotional self down to the core are starting to reveal a better and healthier?

Perhaps I’ve finally made peace with the reality that no one should have to put so much effort into making themselves “interesting” to the outside world.

I won’t call it an epiphany as this process of self-discovery is still happening in real time. Most days are about clarity, others are definitely opaque. I’m at once eager to move forward and terrified to even make the slightest acknowledgment or move. I’ve had chili cheese fries and chicken nuggets. I’ve stumbled in communicating with people I love. I’ve slept way too long on weekends, avoiding any form of contact on purpose. Is it depression? Yes. Is it debilitating me like before? Not as much. The processes of wellness and its struggles don’t stall me, either. I just aim to make sure the next day isn’t about dwelling on the choices that are not wise and get back on track.

When I do feel able to absorb the outside world, I am able to to accept how we cannot act like these crises of late don’t involve us; they do. What crisis can do is reveal who we are, inside and out. Perhaps that’s why people choose not to incorporate themselves in these waves of change. Yet, change is inevitable. If allowed, it can carry us to a better plane of existence. That’s what I want to see in others and myself. To take the time to feel, react, and be moved to be better at living life.

I recognize that even this expression of thought appears to be an extension of the “Jorge Show” in many ways. That isn’t my intent. What I hope is transmitted, too, is how it is possible to look outward from our safety bubbles. It is possible to bear witness and respect the selflessness and sacrifice exhibited around the world, inspiring the many who choose to care and act in our best interests. It is also essential to bear witness to the subtle reminders that exist in between those moments. We need to keep an eye out for the beautiful lessons that still exist in this reality, despite the screaming heads and endless virtue signaling defining our era:

The little boy living with his parents across the street from me acts out his own Super Bowl moments daily by playing football alone. He is victor, cheerleader, fan, all in one. Completely unfiltered in his excitement, a team of one. I never see him play with other children, which doesn’t seem to faze him in the least. The joy on his face is unbridled and true.

The little girl I saw at the Mission Ave. Metro Line station during one of my daily walks around the neighborhood. She chose her moment to spin in place, smiling and laughing. The happiness of being able to move freely in the warm sun of a weekday afternoon in South Pasadena demanded that she throw her arms out and twirl around as her mother smiled with her.

The father and young son walking down the street near my home, taking their daily constitutional, I hope, enjoying the time together. Seeing the son put his hand on his father’s back, a gesture of such respect and love, nearly brought tears to my eyes. The father reacted positively, not negatively, looking down at the boy with a smile, the world’s most natural thing.

Garfield Park is teeming with natural life, families, birds, squirrels, children, older people, all basking in the breeze found in the shade when the sun feels merciless. Butterflies and hummingbirds dart in and out with purpose, reminding me of Dad whenever I seem them. Or, the little girl singing to herself as she ran across the lawns of the park. I live in a primarily white neighborhood, which is why I was heartened to see how many of these moments included people of color or mixed race families. It is the flip side of the burning rage that cannot be ignored, either. It is the balance that still eludes us.

I know it all sounds and reads a bit soft. I don’t care. The simplicity of it all, the humanity of such moments, gives me a reason to stop dwelling on past mistakes and present tense ennui.

The bruises I’ve inflicted upon myself for such a long time are less purple and painful, and yes, healing. Moving forward, I find myself pondering where do we go from here? What happens after the pandemic, the angst of unrest, and the demand for cancel culture finally abate? What will we become once the hashtag protests, election manipulations, disgusting conspiracy theories, and natural disasters stop long enough for us all to take a breath? How do we protect a state of mental grace when the roar of change and progress consumes us anew?

I take solace in knowing that many of us are all bruised fruit now, but we remain intact. We retain our sense of purpose and our commitment to furthering the message that we can better. I believe we can still nourish one another by skipping the judgments and accepting the flaws. We have to admit that we will never win over those who have chosen to ignore all that is right, just, and scientifically correct. We have to focus on those who teeter on edge, who will benefit from a guiding hand and an open heart.

And we need to take a moment to throw our arms out and spin whenever we feel the damn need. At least, that’s what I feel today.