A recent memo from Mid Century Cinema’s in-house archivist called attention to the fact that there are a slew of new items and updates on the site, many of which might have easily escaped the attention of even dedicated subscribers. Some of these should be familiar to regular readers—in particular, recent appreciations of Karen Black and George Segal, as well as commentaries about the Best of 1971 and Eighty Transcendent Dylan Songs have now been honored with a promotion to the About This Site page. (Speaking of his Bob-ness, presumably we’ll soon have something to say about this: https://www.bobdylan.com/news/springtime-in-new-york-release/)
But there is also a small flurry of essays from other sources, now hot-linked over on the Books, Essays and More page, which might have slipped by unnoticed and which we’re eager to call attention to. First and foremost is our big feature in Cineaste about Agnes Varda, occasioned by the release of The Criterion Collection’s spectacular, career spanning box set or her films. Varda, “one of the singular voices of power French cinema” left an oeuvre that explored “the relationship between documentary and fiction” and reflected “a fascination with history and memory, and an explicit if never pedantic engagement with left-leaning political themes.” She was one of the greats.
Speaking of Cineaste, we’ve got some recent items there engaging a number of MCC favorites: an essay on Town Bloody Hall, the Chris Hegedus/D. A. Pennebaker direct cinema document of that uproarious evening in New York City when Norman Mailer got his ass kicked in a public debate with a panel of prominent feminists (you might think that would be easy, but Mailer was a formidable figure). And we were quite pleased to have the opportunity to talk about Alan J. Pakula’s Seventies Film masterpiece The Parallax View, starring Warren Beatty and shot by New Hollywood maestro Gordon Willis. (Yet another outstanding offering from Criterion—see this film.) And stay tuned to Cineaste (or at least to Books, Essays and More) for two forthcoming items: our take on Godard’s Masculin Feminin (“A film of many strengths, one of them derives from the fact that by 1966 Godard, although still reliably terrible, was no longer an enfant—and he knew it”); and we are thrilled to be lined up to write about one of our favorite movies, The Clockmaker, Bertrand Tavernier’s first film and one of the early achievements of post-New-Wave French cinema.
Over in the Boston Review, we take a long look at the career of Mike Nichols, who perhaps never lived up to the promise of his early, seminal achievements Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, The Graduate, and Carnal Knowledge (each of which we have lauded previously on this site). But Nichols nevertheless left behind “landmark contributions to three distinct art forms,” and was “a cherished friend and a valued mentor” who “lived an exceptional life, reflecting an extraordinary American experience.”
Finally, many readers will be familiar with the very long chat we had with film critic and historian David Thomson (exclusive to MCC!) That was so much fun we decided to keep on talking, this time about his new book on film directors. That conversation appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books. Modesty will not prevent us from observing that it was a blast, and well worth your time (DT: “You may have put your finger on a quality I have: finding someone to admire very much and then beginning to look for problems.”) And speaking conversations and the LARB, we just (virtually) sat down with one the contributors to When the Movies Mattered, the celebrated essayist and irresistible contrarian Philip Lopate (his chapter in our book was called “What ‘Golden Age’?: A Dissenting Opinion”), about his most excellent new anthology, The Golden Age of the American Essay, 1945-1970. We will resist the temptation to observe that, apparently, it would seem, some ages are golden.
