Summer is almost here, which means two things: the time is right for dancing in the streets, and we’ll be teaching a week-long film course at Cornell Adult University. This year’s offering will be a round of Masters and Masterpieces, from July 14 – 20. We’ll be posting on the films during the course as time permits (it’s a pretty packed schedule)—but here’s the line-up in case you want to follow along:
Citizen Kane (Orson Welles, 1941). Yes, seems like a cliché. But in two decades of teaching CAU we’ve never taught Kane. (Usually our go-to Welles is all-time favorite Touch of Evil, which we did in a previous round of M&Ms, and we’ve spent a good bit of time with Lady from Shanghai in one of our film noir classes.) But having avoided Kane on obviousness grounds for so long, it’s starting to feel like reverse discrimination. And for some reason it seems like the right moment in history to watch a parable about a powerful man with narcissistic personality disorder.
Rear Window (Alfred Hitchcock, 1954). One of our favorite Hitchcocks—but we agonized over this choice, mulling The Thirty-Nine Steps, Lifeboat, and Notorious (we use clips from Psycho in an early lecture on “how to read a film” and could not let go of that). After toying seriously with Steps, ultimately Window made the final cut, because the class is not just about watching great movies, but teaching about the form as well. And as François Truffaut once explained, “Rear Window is not a film about Greenwich Village, It is a film about Cinema.”
Citizen Kane
Manhattan (Woody Allen, 1979). Possibly our favorite Woody Allen film—but this choice is not just personal—it is political. We’ve done a previous CAU course on the Wood-man, yet his films, and especially this one, are increasingly forbidden, due to unsubstantiated allegations that have been leveled against him. But we are not mobs—we are liberal civilizationalists. And not only is Manhattan a masterpiece, but we will not be shouted down—we will judge every case on its merits. [Our take on art and artists can be found here; our dissent from A. O. Scott’s position (for which he apparently blocked us on twitter, of all things) can be found here; and, if you are squirming in your seat, among the numerous, remarkable, well researched pieces that have looked closely at this matter and ought to give you pause before grabbing a torch and pitchfork, we recommend this one by Robert Weide.]
Eyes Wide Shut (Stanley Kubrick, 1999). An MCC favorite, almost any of Kubrick’s films could stand up to the close scrutiny of an M&M interrogation. But we are especially eager to revisit his final film, which will be celebrating its 20th birthday just a few days before we discuss it in class. Like most Kubrick films, this one gets better with each viewing, as a quick check of our records from last September attest.
Manhattan
Eyes Wide Shut
Gosford Park (Robert Altman, 2001). Usually we teach Altman in seventies film classes, either Nashville or The Long Goodbye, each a landmark film of the New Hollywood. But for the rhythm of this week’s class (and to keep the band fresh, as Keith Richards once explained about the need to vary the set list), we’re going with this late-career triumph, which Rober Ebert Lauded as “a joyous and audacious achievement” with Altman, “serenely the master of his art,” a director who “has never been willing to settle for plot . . . [but is instead] much more interested in character and situation.” (We also recommend the uncharacteristically insightful commentary on the disc by Altman and his son Stephen, who was the film’s production designer.)
Clouds of Sils Maria (Olivier Assayas, 2014). It is a matter of some domestic dispute in these parts as to whether Assayas’ finest film is this one, or the marvelous Summer Hours. But with either choice there is a general consensus that he is one of the greatest (and most interesting) living filmmakers, and we’re very excited to take a close look at Clouds, which features extraordinary performances from Juliette Binoche and Kristen Stewart, and which, we would argue, is especially film-y, and thus an ideal choice to wrap up our week of looking at masters and masterpieces.
Clouds of Sils Maria
Clouds of Sils Maria