A dear friend of mine and me recently watched the widely
ignored movie Broken City starring Mark Wahlberg, Russell Crowe, Catherine Zeta-Jones
and Barry Pepper. We both concluded that
it was probably the best movie of the past 13 years and one that would be
viewed as a masterwork of film noir in the filmic generations to come. When discussing the thematic gestalt of the
film with this friend I commented that Barry Pepper was my least favorite of
the five actors to portray literary character Tom Ripley on the big
screen. While this comment is not
strictly a lie it is also a bit disingenuous on my part. Those who are familiar with Mr. Pepper’s
Ripley movie – Ripley Underground – know the film’s release and distribution
had an ancient curse placed upon it and even obtaining a copy of the bare bones
dvd is exceedingly difficult. This is a
shame because aside from The Talented Mr. Pepper, the film also features Claire
Forlani, Alan Cumming, Tom Wilkinson and Willem Dafoe. If one of my dear readers has a copy of this
film please let me know and perhaps we can organize a friendly get together
with coffee, cheese and pie. We can
laugh and reminisce on the old days where our whole lives were still ahead of
us and our dreams were so vivid and seemingly inevitable that every day was
filled with uncompromised hope and unadulterated joy. Then we would watch the movie and discuss its
merits until the dawn before falling asleep in each other’s arms, feeling a
peace neither one of us has known for years.
It is difficult to rank the remaining four Ripley actors but
I think if someone was pointing a standard police issue Glock 9 millimeter
handgun to my head and threatening to splatter my brain matter all over the
walls unless I declared a favorite I would have to choose Dennis Hopper from
Wim Wender’s sumptuous The American Friend.
I have written about this film in previous blog posts and I am sure I will
return to it in the future for it is gorgeous film noir (even besting Broken
City in this sense). The cast is
uniformly great and the film has so many moments of visual beauty that
thousands of screen shots would warrant framing and adornment on a wall. As a quick aside I felt the same about Brad
Anderson’s movie The Machinist. It was
also during The Machinist that I fell deeply in love with Aitana
Sanchez-Gijon. For nearly a year
afterward I spent long sleepless night and longer meritless days wishing with
all my heart that this forced insomnia would gradually cause me to lose my grip
on reality and encourage me to partake in late night meals at an airport where
she would be working as a waitress.
Alas, this never came to pass but I cannot deny that this fantasy
remains in my dark heart. She brought
such beauty and warmth to the role. She
showed a love and tenderness to Christian Bale’s character that I know I would
never deserve. Love and tenderness is
for winners and I am so obviously a loser.
But getting back The American Friend, Dennis Hopper’s interpretation of
Tom Ripley is as haunting as it is heartbreaking and his is the Ripley that
most stays with me.
I recently watched Blade Runner again and audibly cursed
myself for having not purchased the soundtrack.
Lately I have been on a soundtrack and film score craze, buying them by
the thousands and doing nothing but lying naked on my sofa, listening to the music
through cheap Ipod ear-buds and consuming large bowls of Marshmallow Mateys cereal. Purists know that Marshmallow Mateys is the
knock-off of Lucky Charms that runs about a dollar less since it does not come
in a box. The sad truth is that it does
not taste as good as Lucky Charms. Perhaps
this is simply the power of glossy, effective marketing or perhaps the
ingredients simply are not as choice.
Regardless, I always opt for the Mateys instead of the Charms, all too
content to wallow in my own personal hell.
I think technically speaking the term “soundtrack” is often used
when the movie has pop slash rock songs as accompaniment and “score” is used
more often when the music is purely instrumental. However I like to use the words interchangeably
because I am an ugly and ignorant man who alienates those he loves most. I am probably completely wrong about the definitions
of those words and from here on out I will only use the term soundtrack because
I prefer the way it rolls off the tongue.
I recall with delightful clarity my first French kiss. I will not divulge the details here so as to
protect the innocent but it was a time so electric that in this moment of remembrance
I truly realize how far I have fallen and how empty my life has become. Every day I scream for help but no one –
friends, family, co-workers, the strange people living in my head – will deign
to answer my cries.
As my loyal followers will remember when I discussed my ever
growing love for Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack for the recent Man of Steel I always
try and see the movie first before purchasing and bonding with a
soundtrack. I have felt such strong
urges as of late to bond with the soundtracks to the Pirates of the Caribbean movies
but this is problematic because I have only seen the first movie (which is the
only soundtrack of the series I do not wish to bond with). This means tomorrow I will drive to a store and
rent the three sequels even though I have very little desire to actually watch
them. Then I will watch these in an epic
late night marathon. Then I will drive back,
return the movies and purchase the soundtracks.
I will listen to those discs at least 19 times a day for the next 47 years
of my life and then I will sell them at a garage sale for a reasonable price
and will say to the lucky purchaser, “You are in a for a treat there, I spent
the best years of my life with these discs as background music. Let them fill your senses and shape your own
personal journey through this crazy, mixed up world we live in.”
Worry not everyone; I am working on an epic review for Man
of Steel that will destroy all your pre-conceived notions of the written word. Thank you Lali Torres for your beautiful
music, you and You have saved so much.
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