Anthony Kaufman claims to admire young “filmmaker” filmmaker Lena Dunham and her work, but he and the Village Voice certainly didn’t do her any favors by allowing her to hold forth on Nicholas Ray’s Bigger Than Life in an interview published in the paper yesterday. Although Kaufman’s question to Dunham is not “Could you redefine the word ‘vapid’?” Dunham takes that as her challenge anyway, and says “I’m a total movie geek, but I can’t get into movies like Nicholas Ray’s. I’ll go with my friends and they’ll say, ‘Bigger Than Life—that was incredible.’ And I was so distracted the entire time by watching James Mason act in that fashion.” There’s no particularly kind way of putting this, so I’ll just let fly: anybody who can’t glom that Mason’s presence in the film functions as a sort of pre-existing alienation effect has no business ever watching a movie that isn’t Marmaduke. Let alone making one. (By the way, roll that phrase “I’m a total movie geek” around in your mind a few times, until it starts to hurt. Doesn’t take that many, does it?) (And yes, I am disappointed that Aaron Katz, a co-interviewee of Dunham’s and a filmmaker I admire, felt compelled to concur with her somewhat, saying he was “off-put” by Life, but you know, Aaron’s an agreeable fellow who can be overly polite in certain company. By the same token, his new film, Cold Weather, better be Christ coming down from the cross.) And while Kaufman doesn’t follow up that answer with a request that Dunham go even more vapid, she nevertheless insists, continuing, “I was watching it with a boy who I wanted very much to think I was cool and have a crush on me, but the whole time I was like, ugh, yawn, bring a book, I can’t deal with this…” Wow. Doncha love grown women who talk like they’re 12, and refer to the poor unfortunate fellows who have to go out on dates with them as “boys?” Yeah, me too.
So, um, yeah, sure…so, Anthony Kaufman, why is it that I should go check out Dunham’s film Tiny Furniture at BAM this week? “Dunham, who just turned 24, casts herself as a confused post-grad, who moves in with her mother and sister in their Tribeca apartment (where she lives in real life)—a minimalist white loft and and studio space captured in sharp angles by up-and-coming ace cinematographer Jody Lee Lipes.” No, no, you’re right, that doesn’t sound at all circle-jerkish and inconsequential and absolutely hatefully solipsistic, not in the least. Of this and the other films he champions, Kaufman says, “Mumblecore, these aren’t.” Because as it turns out, there are worse things than mumblecore after all. Is that what you’re saying? No?
Of course that’s not fair of me—I haven’t seen Dunham’s film. And I have to admit, I sure am in less of a hurry to right now. And you should have seen just what a hurry I was in before…
The above image, by the way, is of Ray in WIm Wenders The American Friend. Just think—if Ray had managed to hold on to the piece of Tribeca real estate he inhabits in that film, and if he wasn’t like, you know, dead, he might be almost as rich as Lena Dunham’s mom today!
UPDATE: A concerned friend who would prefer not to chime in on the comments thread (and for intriguing and fascinating reasons, at that) points out that my putting the word “filmmaker” in quotes, as I initially did above, is rather jumping the gun, as I admittedly have not yet seen the work of the artiste in question, and could in fact be perceived as me showing my hand both o’ermuch and cheaply. I could try the old “it’s an oblique Citizen Kane reference” defense but the fact is that the fellow is absolutely right. I have made the necessary amendment above.
FURTHER UPDATE: Over at Twitter, a social medium I have forsaken but find useful to check into (or would you call it “lurk around?”) from time to time, a friend Dunham and myself have in common protests that Dunham is among the most self-deprecating persons he knows, and that the comments that I have taken such umbrage at were quite possibly offered in that very same spirit, and that this spirit failed to translate in the Voice interview, which he describes as “poorly directed,” full of “feeble” questions, and “a waste all around.” So there’s that to consider, if one wants to be super fair, and I do, damn it. By the same token, some others have directed me toward Dunham’s writings on the film site Hammer To Nail, and I have to tell you that I’m extremely glad not to have had discovered them before I started doing some serious exploration of my anger issues. Let’s just say that Dunham, who is clearly attempting to “rock” a “persona” in her missives (God, I hope that’s the case) definitely needs to work on making the whole ostensible self-deprecation thing register a little better. And be mindful of the fact that “gauge” doesn’t mean the same thing as “gouge.” See, I’m trying to be helpful here. Really.
What I would give to hear James Mason take her down in character. She would inspire quite the monologue indeed.
I will not be seeing this twit’s film.
Yeah…she seems like a nice enough girl, and everyone seems to like her movie, but those comments are pretty indefensible.
I could tell that Glenn was actually restraining himself when he wrote this post, as unkind as it is.
That said, I stand firm by the policy of separating the art from the artist, so I’ll probably check out the movie. She wouldn’t be the first philistine/hater/dumbass to make something of quality, would she?
I don’t really know how you can reconcile “I can only watch performances where the acting is invisible” with “I’m a total movie geek” unless all you ever watch is neo-realism, mumblecore, documentaries, and maybe the occasional Jim Jarmusch movie for when you’re feeling extra high spirited.
“Total movie geek” sounds like someone who watches Jennifer Aniston marathons while eating a half-pint of ice cream. And a Tribeca loft? Sheesh! Couldn’t the woman at least pretend to be a hobo?
oh to be young and feted for a film about being young and not feted! the agony is blistering!
She does come off as somewhat vapid in that article, but I have to be honest and say I take the Orson Welles view of Ray (except for THEY LIVE BY NIGHT and IN A LONELY PLACE, though I don’t rank that as high as others do).
In all fairness her film is quite good, if never great: the camera is deliberate, the jokes are funny, and its pseudo-honesty, which can be just as irksome as Swanberg’s dick-in-hand worst, is ultimately successful and–eek–moving.
Splashing her with destain (“Philistine!”“Dumbass!”) at this point in her career is unfortunate, methinks.
Well in my defense, as the one who used the words philistine and dumbass, I was using them to say that even philistine dumbasses can be talented and make good art. I plan to see her film.
Speaking of unfortunate (and embarrassing): “disdain” is, yes, what I meant.
Ah, c’mon, you know you’d splash her with destain if you had the chance .…
(Okay, sorry, sorry…)
No, seriously, with Ms. Dunham, “lipranzer,” and that turncoat David Thomson all hating on Nick Ray now, I guess the tide has turned and I can officially bin my beloved BITTER VICTORY DVD. Thanks for keeping me in tune with the times, gang!
To clarify my earlier point with an anecdote. When I was in high school I knew this really weird, by-all-accounts stupid guy who dabbled in the arts. He and I did a play together (he had a small role), but his main thing was drawing/painting, which he did extraordinarily well. One day during rehearsal he was working on a beautiful drawing when our director came up to him and said, “That reminds me of Rembrandt.” To which this dim black kid said in all sincerity, “Who dat?”
So in this case, I guess I’m saying substitute Nick Ray for Rembrandt, and “I can’t deal with this” for “Who dat.” I dunno, just giving her the benefit of the doubt, I may end up hating her movie.
Dear Glenn,
Fantastic to read you’ve decided to take down Lena Dunham for her comments about Nicholas Ray. Her remarks were awesomely threatening to “Nick’s” place in the canon. This 24-year-old girl all but set herself up for RSS-disseminated, Google-cacheable crucifixion.
I look forward to your post eviscerating my mother in online-print. After all: the bitch dared gift me a copy of the Criterion MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION for Xmas with the provision, apparentlyz, she get to OPINE right after the big goddamn REVEAL (and this at Christmas no less!) that Sirk’s picture was a horrible and, what’s more, DUMB moving picture. I know, I know… — I can hardly believe I wasn’t ‘moved’ in turn to immortalize in a blog post all my own all the outrage I never viscerally felt.
So thanks for fighting the good fight in the current instance. It’s generous, gentlemanly, and valorous.
(For: Should young 20-somethings take industrious first steps into the big ring, bitches best be ready to duck the slings and arrows of Compulsory Evaluation Writ Large! — that is, slung and shot direct into a known large-readership. [Just so the offenders have the chance of being killed before they’re even… dead.] I mean, I understand that the respekt and ‘you-go!’ plaudits to be gleaned from aforementioned readership/commenters in the aftermath of quite such a gesture can be extremely empowering, can even permit a bit of the dopamine to spike… — Surely, this alone validates the blogger’s practice of postponing, or canceling, other life-action… The addictive sit-down before the computer… the half-hour compose of the Bitchy Post… Quel meme!)
ck.
@ Craig: Last time I looked, your mother, who I daresay is a fine, fine woman in almost every respect, wasn’t hawking a feature film at BAM, expecting audience validation for it, that sort of thing. Nor, for instance, was she anywhere to be seen on the thread in which Jeffrey Wells attempted to eviscerate “Imitation of Life,” a fray in which I threw myself with great abandon.
Look, Dunham’s free to think whatever she wants about any film she wants. That fact, nor your own seemingly reflexive need to come to the defense of any (intellectually) bourgeois 20-something who deems to pick up a movie camera, does nothing, however, to change the other fact, which is that her remarks concerning Ray are objectively, aggressively stupid, and do very little to render the prospect of watching her latest film a terribly attractive one. Should one judge a filmmaker by the contents of his or her interviews? Probably not. On the other hand, ought filmmakers not give interviews at all, or should we very religiously ignore the content of interviews with filmmakers? If the latter, weren’t your efforts, say, in translating Daniel Cohn Bendit’s recent chat with Jean-Luc Godard a colossal waste of time? Would a blog post from me in which I verbally deboned and fileted Richard Brody elicit so much outrage from you? Is chiding me for being ungentlemanly not inverting a sexist double standard of sorts? What is it about Lena Dunham, besides her being a woman, that ought to elicit my chivalry? (And while we’re on the subject, I’ll thank you not to try to put words in my mouth, or my head; I didn’t call Dunham a “bitch,” and I don’t think that about her, and I frankly and seriously resent your implication.)
And so on, and so on. Granted, the potentially self-congratulatory aspect of “venting” in a post of this sort is readily evident…if not possibly glaring. But if I were truly and only interested in “you go!” plaudits then I’d moderate this section a lot more than I do, and ripostes such as your own wouldn’t be replied to…they’d be gone. As it happens, I find the counter-arguments from Kiss Me SOG and Russ H. somewhat more compelling than your own. And thank you, Kiss Me, for noticing my restraint. I WAS exercising it, although my wife still asked me, after reading the post, “So where’s this ‘nicer’ part you wanted me to notice?”
If Dunham’s film does turn out to be any good I’ll be delighted to champion it. And the stuff she said about Ray will STILL be…well, stupid.
Here we go again, I guess, but here’s my question: is Dunham saying that she doesn’t like the way Mason’s character BEHAVES in BIGGER THAN LIFE, which I think would be akin to saying “I don’t like violent movies”, and would be, while perhaps a narrow point of view for a “total movie geek” to hold, a subjective, personal bias that I think more of us have (of whatever type) than don’t; or is she saying that she doesn’t like the acting of James Fucking Mason. And by extension, I suppose, the acting styles common to old Hollywood movies. Because if that’s what she’s saying, then Dunham can go straight to Hell (I do not literally mean this).
It seems odd to me that people are accusing her of besmirching the name of the great Ray, when the one she’s besmirching is Mason.
And it actually does get into something interesting: the enormous shift in film acting around the mid-60s (when The Method starts to completely dominate) and the degree to which contemporary audiences are alienated (in a bad way) from pre-Method acting.
I know a number of fairly intelligent, sophisticated people, who are comfortable reading lots of literature in translation, doorstop-heavy Russian novels, German philosophers, and other headscratchers, but who just can’t handle the theatrical performance style of 1950s movies. It’s striking, especially in, as I say, otherwise aesthetically sophisticated people.
Is it just The Method, I wonder? Or is there some other change in acting style that creates modern film acting as we know it, and makes the stand-and-deliver performances of the 50s and back seem so very alien?
@ Fuzzy: Whoever she’s besmirching, she’s not doing it in a particularly intelligent or compelling way. And what actually DOES get into something interesting is what you’re extrapolating from what she said. And what she actually SAID, among other things, was “I was like ugh, yawn, bring a book, I can’t deal with this.”
I understand that the way I interpret Mason’s presence/performance in the film, that is, as a kind of built-in alienation effect (it really kicks in at the point where his character is describing his high-school football exploits to his son; it really does kind of make you think, “You have GOT to be kidding…”) runs rather counter to some of the facts surrounding the film’s actual making. That is, Mason was one of the picture’s producers and had a deep investment in bringing the source material to the screen. Hence, he likely did not think that he was in some respects overtly wrong for the role that he played. But he is. But I think in the overall scheme of the film, that wrongness is made to work, in particular at the school board meeting and of course the climax at the staircase, where the character’s otherness assumes monstrous proportions. So I think the whole thing’s a little more complicated than what I presume Dunham’s reaction was predicated on, e.g., here’s this guy with a plummy British accent emoting in the role of a middle American husband.
Which of course leads to the question, am I putting out a genuine critical analysis here, or just rationalizing in the service of a film I love? In either case, I like to think I’m being slightly more substantive than the “ugh, yawn” that Craig wants to go to the mat over.
Nu, there’s worse things than rationalizing in the service of a movie that one loves—that’s what rather a lot of criticism is, and that’s fine. Personally I’ll take criticism that makes the world seem more full of interesting things, and even makes things I“d previously dismissed seem interesting, over criticism (informed or un-) that makes the world/movies seem less worthy of attention. I would love to read someone convince me that SatC2 had depths I hadn’t noticed.
I do take your point about Mason’s built-in alienation effect, and yes, I too care little about how factually accurate such a point is (though I wonder if you’d let another critic get away with that). But I wonder how much of her reaction is Mason-specific and how much is a general dislike of the stand-and-deliver school of 40s/50s acting, with its heavy Odets influence. Much film from that period plays almost like Kabuki to contemporary audiences—heavily stylized and deeply foreign—and it’s interesting to contemplate what changed in acting, and how that change became so universal. Honestly, it’s so universal that it makes me think it can’t just be the acting—there must be something in how directors present the actors that make the shift in style seem so complete.
Maybe I’m not the first to say it, but I feel compelled: from what I’ve read online, COLD WEATHER has been so far hugely, hugely overrated and oversold. I saw it. It’s not a particularly memorable movie; moreover, it’s just not very good. Dull people doing less-than-dull things for the first time in their life: still dull. Quiet, cold-palette mopiness is not existentialism. As far as I can tell, Katz is basically getting major points for using a dolly and having a.…wait for it.…modernist original score. Mumblecore’s baby steps.
Craig Keller is a good, adventurous, and very smart writer, but his almost militia-level defenses of a certain age-specific menagerie are getting predictable–this is HIS French New Wave, and dammit if we’re aren’t all just blind slobs. I can understand some of his jabs and hooks, but then he’s off yelling that Kentucker Audley is the world’s finest actor (better than Pacino even, that’s right, he said it!), and I’m lost again.
The fact that he’s now using Lena Dunham’s age and girl-ness (!) to defend her speaks volumes.
It would also be fascinating to compare the arch and unrealistic performances in a Nicholas Ray film to the arch and unrealistic performances in a Lena Dunham film. (Though Ray wasn’t casting his family, so point Dunham, I guess?)
Glenn, why is Mason wrong for the role? I feel like a lot of people want BIGGER THAN LIFE to be a direct and unambiguous inversion of 1950s TV – the copy on the back of the Criterion box even breathlessly notes that the film came out while FATHER KNOWS BEST was on the air – but what’s wrong with the film being more specific than that? A plummy British guy who emigrates to the US could very well find himself with the same interests and the same situation as Mason’s character does in the film. Maybe I’m just tired of the whole “This film/book flips LEAVE IT TO BEAVER on its ear!” way of approaching this kind of material (actually, I know I’m tired of it), but I find it much more interesting to view BIGGER THAN LIFE as a story about “Ed Avery” than a story about “Middle American Husband”.
I’m searching but so far have’t found “splash her with destain” in Finnegan’s Wake. Surely it must be here somewhere. Don’t let me down, JJ.
Glenn wrote: “So I think the whole thing’s a little more complicated than what I presume Dunham’s reaction was predicated on, e.g., here’s this guy with a plummy British accent emoting in the role of a middle American husband.”
Honestly, Glenn, I think you may be giving Lena D. too much credit for even formulating that particular objection–which is at least a logical one, even if it does miss the point. Seems me to me her reaction is more along the lines of the wantonly dismissive “OLD MOVIEZ ARE OLD” attitude prevalent among, well, almost everyone born during or after the Reagan era. (I’m a Reagan baby myself–yeah, I’m trying to make “Reagan baby” a thing, it’s better than “Millennials” or “The Wiki Generation” or whatever the fuck–so I’m painfully aware of my contemporaries’ cultural apathy toward anything that came before Star Wars.)
And yeah, I know I was sort of defending Dunham earlier, but my real takeaway from all this is how sad it is that even a cinematically-inclined member of my generation, praised to the heavens for her precocious filmmaking, can be just as knee-jerk ignorant/closed-minded/stupid about archival culture as any random asshole I went to high school with.
Dunham apparently loves Ishtar though, as seen on her (gulp) Twitter, so at least there’s that. Tellin’ the truth *can* be dangerous business…
Glenn,
Frequent reader – first time caller…
Just a comment or two.
I try not to be an idealist, but I often form a preconception of an artist’s personality based on their work. Admittedly, I have been disappointed when I’ve met that person or read something they’ve said in an interview.
It seems to happen more often with musicians whose work I appreciate than filmmakers, and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs are a good example. Anyone who’s seen KILL YOUR IDOLS knows Karen O. isn’t the smartest branch on the tree. In fact, (in the movie at least) she’s just plain dumb when it comes to talking about music. I still appreciate their music, however. It simply disappoints when you realize artists aren’t what you hoped they might be, but that’s on us. I attribute some of it to youth and am willing to allow for a few chances though. Mature artists should make fewer gaffes in an ideal world.
However, someone who can’t speak intelligently about their own work or the work of others in their field, and whom at the same time create bad work should be spanked (male or female) and called out. The writers of Cahiers du Cinema weren’t always gracious in their comments about directors, and I expect the same from contemporary critics whether in print or online. As long as there are things to back it up, all is fair.
Keep on keepin’ on.
I’m confused. Is the objection that she didn’t like a Nicholas Ray movie, or that she failed to articulate why she didn’t like it in an intellectual manner?
If it’s the former, you’re all full of shit since anybody is allowed any opinion of anything; if it’s the latter, okay – but keep in mind, not everybody who’s a filmmaker is good at verbalizing their thoughts, that’s why they express with pictures instead of words.
In one of the documentaries accompanying a recent Nick Cave reissue, someone said you may not judge a book by its cover, but you can judge a band by their covers. Could we say the same of filmmakers? Taste matters? It’s the stuff I want to read in interviews, that’s for sure. I want to know what filmmakers are watching, who songwriters are listening to, what they like, don’t like and why. I think it is telling… in the moment, anyway – Dunham may very well do a 180-degree turn on the film and bemoan these comments down the line, but who knows. I am a little bummed it may turn readers off from seeing BIGGER THAN LIFE. But I was disappointed in the lack of follow-up from Kaufman (space limitations?) If she’s a film geek, I want to know who are her guys/gals?
Having said that, I am reminded of an interview with David Gordon Green when he was asked about what Terence Malick was into these days (Malick had just produced Green’s UNDERTOW, I believe) and he said Malick was obsessed with… ZOOLANDER.
Also, I wouldn’t expect Hank Williams, one of the most influential artists of the 20th century, to wax philisophically, articulately or intelligently on, say, Jimmie Rodgers. Particularly, at 24. But, you know, exceptions and rules and all that.
I like this post and discussion. Thanks.
“…not everybody who’s a filmmaker is good at verbalizing their thoughts, that’s why they express with pictures instead of words…”
The Filmmakers-Look-Best-In-Diapers Defense.
“The Filmmakers-Look-Best-In-Diapers Defense.”
Asshole.
David J is making an excellent point—filmmakers, like other artists, are rarely very articulate about their own tastes (there’s exceptions, like Scorsese, but they’re very much exceptions). In fact, artists usually have more blinkered taste than fans or critics. Critics are expected to have a broad range of sympathy for different styles as a professional obligation. Cinephiles develop a broad range of interests in their endless quest for new pleasures.
But artists take what they need and leave the rest. There’s few artists who don’t have plenty of weird blind spots or seemingly inexplicable hostilities. The most famous is probably Nabokov’s weirdly philistine dismissal of Dostoyevsky (perhaps because their goals were so similar and their methods so different). And of course, Orson Welles had a very personal list of loved & hated directors, which I wouldn’t expect any cinephile to share. Paul Thomas Anderson loved HAPPY GILMORE. The list goes on and on.
I haven’t seen Dunham’s film either, and the trailer doesn’t turn me on that much—maybe it’s good, maybe it’s bad. But I can guarantee that her opinion of James Mason has nothing to do with that.
“Tiny Furniture” is actually very well-written and well-directed, and is very funny, expensive Tribeca loft or not. I have a feeling that you would not get so wound-up over David Lynch’s comparable cinema blindspots. And your evasion of Katz’s agreement with Dunham is pretty childish (you being Katz’s friend and all).
So, uh, chill out! Or at least watch her movie before tearing her a second asshole.
Fuzzy: Exactly.
@Badass Richard Conte
I honestly think it’s her little high school anecdote that rankles readers here the most, heh. We’ve seen many well known and respected filmmakers slag other well-regarded films before. Sometimes their reasoning may be petty or half-formed, but usually we just pass it off as opinion and move on.
But I’ve learned that nothing gets other people going like a trip down high school memory lane. And if she’s referring to the present, wow, that’ll REALLY get the knife sharpeners revved up…
Anyway, she’s only 24. Really, she’s hardly an adult yet.
… and to piggy-back on Fuzzy Bastard’s last comment,
Welles didn’t like Ray either.
I don’t think it’s Dunham’s taste Glenn’s calling into question. It’s that a statement like this–
“I was watching it with a boy who I wanted very much to think I was cool and have a crush on me, but the whole time I was like, ugh, yawn, bring a book, I can’t deal with this…”
…is essentially inarticulate and speaks to a kind of lazy philistinism–and coming on the heels of self-identifying as a “movie geek,” it doesn’t really scan. Her views on acting are similarly vague and narrow–as though she can’t begin to take seriously a movie that falls outside her preference for naturalism (talk about “yawn”).
Also, she has a blog, tweets constantly, does tons of press, and her film is wall-to-wall dialogue. I think her words are open season.
Badass R.C. – Actually, your first point, besides being lame, is irrelevant to the discussion, since it cuts both ways; if everyone is allowed to their opinion (as indeed they are) you should have no objection to, and should therefore sling no mud, on anybody else stating their opinion of Dunham’s work or anything else. What matters, as ever, is the extent to which one is persuasive in explaining and backing up their opinion.
I believe the objection Glenn stated had to do with the way in which Dunham explained her opinion, which amounted to “the film’s boring.” Which isn’t an explanation. This relates to Fuzzy’s earlier point – she says at the outset that she “can’t get into movie’s like Nicholas Ray’s” – we can therefore assume that she wasn’t just hating on Mason’s performance.
Now, I do agree that one shouldn’t judge a filmmaker by their words or tastes, but many generally have no problem speaking intelligently about their art and that of others – just read or watch an interview with Fellini, Kubrick, Leigh, Gray, Cronenberg, Malick, Godard, Kiearostami, Tarkovsky, Hitchcock – the list goes on. That might be stacking the deck against Dunham, but it should at least go some way in exploding the old canard that “visual artists don’t know how to use their words, and that’s why they’re visual artists.” Probably one of the most purely visual filmmakers in history, Stan Brakhage, was exceptionally articulate.
If anything, I’m much more interested in seeing “Bigger Than Life” than “Tiny Furniture.” I am curious about the Welles quote regarding Ray – what exactly did he say?
With such expert play-acting, she makes this very room a theatre.
It’s a perfectly viable point. I can list any number of “great” directors who I think are shit. And for the life of me, I have no idea why anybody would consider Ray as anything other than an occasionally interesting director of somewhat dark films. He’s no Bergman or Fellini or Welles. What I object to is not the attack on her, per se (and truth is, I couldn’t care less about her or her movie), but the absolutist manner of the attacks, as if Ray is some God. Which he very much is not. Because the absolutist manner maintains that anybody who doesn’t agree is irrelevant.
Furthermore, I know plenty of respected filmmakers who are verbally incompetent. Fuzzy explained it best.
Well, if you’re arguing that Dunham may just be verbally incompetent, well, she talks A LOT for someone who’s verbally incompetent, so should we just not discuss what she says and how she says it?
Like I said, I have no real interest in her or her movie. We’re debating a specific quote – and I’m arguing against the manner in which she’s being attacked.
@ Zach
I’m unsure of the provenance, but the Ray quote was most recently repeated in the 2002 book of Welles’ chats, “Interviews,” and it came as Welles was talking about French critics and their talent for, as he put it, “The gift of the unexpected letdown”…
“There are only three great directors in the history of the film,” they will announce. I smile shyly. “There is D.W. Griffith.” I roll my eyes toward heaven in an ecstasy of agreement. “There is Orson Welles.” I lower my lids, all modesty. Little me? “Then there is Nicholas Ray.”
That last name, Welles said, was always the “zinger.” (Although, personally, I could – and do – watch “In a Lonely Place” over and over again.)
You asked, “Is the objection that she didn’t like a Nicholas Ray movie, or that she failed to articulate why she didn’t like it in an intellectual manner?”
Speaking for myself, I’m debating the second part of your question, as are most people here…that’s how I’m reading this discussion, anyway. Regarding defending Ray, I mean, we all have our preferences–but when a filmmaker you love is dismissed in print by a first-time director, in the thoughtful voice of an annoyed teenager, a harsh reaction is justified…and, frankly, to be expected.
Richard Conte, the point isn’t that Dunham attacked a sacred cow. People do that every day. The point is the philistinic, juvenile, anti-intellectual attitude about a certain mode of filmmaking and acting expressed by someone who has chosen filmmaking and acting as a career, and been widely praised for it. As my earlier comments indicate, I don’t believe this attitude automatically invalidates her movie; I’ll gladly give it a chance. But it does invite people like Glenn to call her on her bullshit.
In the interests of fair play and trying to find a Devil’s Advocate stance, I perused Ms. Dunham’s blog. I can only conclude after reading a number of her self-serving hipster rodomontades that she is little more than a mumblecore twit with very very little to say. In fact, I’d hazard the comments that sent Glenn off are actually among her more eloquent attempts at communicating her clearly contrived and hollow persona.
“There’s no particularly kind way of putting this, so I’ll just let fly: anybody who can’t glom that Mason’s presence in the film functions as a sort of pre-existing alienation effect has no business ever watching a movie that isn’t Marmaduke.”
That’s kind of a Jeffrey Wells statement, no?
Another movie about young single college grads in New York. Is it New York that makes it a movie? I ask that in the same way Matthew Modine in SHORT CUTS asks Julianne Moore, “does naked make it art?”. Would anyone have cared to finance TINY FURNITURE if it took place in a loft in Denver or Hartford or Ft. Lauderdale, (to say nothing of Boston, Chicago or San Francisco)?
@ Matt: Definitely! In fact, if it was a loft in Minneapolis, she’d probably get a city grant for it, and if it was a loft in Ft. Lauderdale, she’d probably get a lot more press for doing something different. New York just happens to have a whole lot more young filmmakers and people willing to crew up for it—sorry, other cities!
Actually, not to be a mumblecore apologist (and I am not!) – but most of those movies weren’t shot in NYC. Those movies were shot in Austin, Chicago, Portland, San Francisco, etc. – and the directors met at SXSW. Some of the later films were subsequently Brooklyn-set.
Stephen, the Welles quote on Ray, as far as I know, came via Gore Vidal.
Ah, thanks, Siren. I knew I’d read it somewhere but could only find that imperfect Google reference.
And – not to make this too much of a me-too post, but – obviously agreed with your smiles and sentiments over at Glenn’s SATC2 entry. Which clearly hasn’t kicked the hornet’s nest this one has!
take off the turtlenecks and stub out the gauloises you pasty frail protectors of proper speech and the grand auteurs. they don’t need you. only you need you.
Fun discussion. Just a couple of points:
To follow up on Fuzzy Bastard’s earlier post, I’m pretty sure that Nabokov had interesting, informed reasons for not liking Dostoevsky (in fact, a quick Google search confirms that he had a sharp, educated perspective, just one that most of us don’t share). And it seems pretty obvious that Dunham doesn’t have the same kind of nuanced critical reading of Ray or Mason’s works.
Also, remember when filmmakers actually had a broad, wide-ranging, omnivorous taste for all types of films? I think it lasted about 6 months in 1974.
And also: Hi John! Hope you and Myna are doing well.
There seem to be a lot of reasons not to see this movie–mine is the uncomfortable reminder of that Miranda July movie–but a dumb remark about Nicolas Ray should not be one of them. I would rather see a blazing young talent with no reverence for the past than some movie geek with more taste than intuitive artistry. And Ray is certainly one of my three favorites.
Siren, God love you for remembering that Welles’s crack against Ray came from Gore Vidal – WITHOUT pointing out that this provenance makes it mighty suspect. That’s class, of which you have a surfeit.
Otherwise, meh. I think Dunham’s BIGGER THAN LIFE comments were mighty dumb. As a director, shouldn’t she have been able to look past her problems with pre-Method acting to admire Ray’s expressive, beautifully planned use of ‘Scope and color, and so forth? But GK, I think you were wrong to treat outing her as a rich kid as your post’s stinger. I hate the bastards myself (this is a Derek Robinson ref that only bill may catch), but I’m pretty sure it’s an indefensible *artistic* prejudice. Orson didn’t grow up poor, ya know. Neither did Bunuel.
@ Tom: Another failure of tone on my part. I was thinking more of the ironies of Soho-and-below real estate than of my disdain for wealth or wealthy people. Everybody knows that I LOVE wealthy people; their children a little less so, I admit. It all depends, really. As you also know, I immediately grow homicidal around folks who throw around the word “boujie,” unless that person is Thurston Moore. What I’m sayin’ is, not guilty, your honor!
On the subject of Welles, he never really elaborated on his supposed disdain for Ray. The man’s name doesn’t come up in “This Is Orson Welles.” (And while we’re on the subject of things it might be vulgar to point out, consider for a moment that one of Ray’s early mentors as a director, and the producer of “They Live By Night,” was John Housman…) Welles does, on the other hand, offer this pertinent bit of wisdom concerning the verdicts on his colleagues that he delivered in prior interviews: “I change my answers according to who’s asking the questions. Anyway, what do these opinions really matter? Why should I upset a strong Fellini man by telling him I think ‘Satyricon’ was frightened at birth by Vogue magazine?”
Tom, thank you much, and god love YOU for reading around the single line. I find the quote hilarious and Twittered part of it today, but as you immediately picked up, it’s very possible it was apocryphal or that as Glenn says, Welles was playing to the stalls.
I like Nicholas Ray a lot. I think Mason is brilliant in Bigger Than Life, and I am suspicious of a director who doesn’t, as well as of a director who has a rather narrow concept of what makes for great screen acting. But the proof would be in the viewing of her movie, of course.
And in the interests of complete honesty, I add that I agree with everything Bill said in this thread.
And so to bed. 🙂
That Satyricon quote is the best thing I’ve read all day. Yes, even better than the news of Liam Neeson in ‘Taken 2: Taken Harder’.
First of all, I find it laughable that Lena’s taste in film is being questioned here on Glenn Kenny’s blog because from the criticism I’ve read by both, Lena’s is much more effective.
But to get to the point, why does it matter if a filmmaker (certainly one of the most promising ones we’ve got under 40…let alone under 25!!) doesn’t dig a certain borderline “canonical” director? It’s completely irrelevant in evaluating her as a filmmaker and creative mind. She does that of which Kenny himself is incapable, and thus also probably a good deal jealous: being original. At 24, Lena has already established herself as a singular voice – Ray Carney, an infinitely more important critic than Kenny, has been taking notice for years. She really has very little to do with mumblecore (you would know this, of course, if you’d actually seen her work), aside from certain superficial similarities (age, digital camerawork, autobiography). In other words, she stands out from the pack…which is more than I can say about Kenny.
Please choose your battles more wisely.
“Please choose your battles more wisely.”
Or what, pray tell?
Also: Ray Carney? Man, you are hilarious.
For criticism, I prefer the singular voice of Diablo Cody.
Ray Carney can eat my ass.
Can we go over again how old Dunham is? Is she 24? I heard somewhere she’s 24!!!!!!?????!!!!!
Man… prior to reading this blog ere these past coupla weeks, I had no knowledge of either Ray Carney or John Nolte. I love you Glenn but I think SCR is destroying my innocence.
Big Hollywood roolz!! Ray Carney droolz!!!!
This so mirrors 20 something Agnes Varda labeling herself a filmgeek while slamming John Gilbert in a King Vidor film while trying to impress a boy!
Regarding the great Welles and Ray: I like the idea of Welles poor in Spain wanting to make a mini-movie using the massive unemployed sets of 55 Days at Peking.
“[…]why does it matter if a filmmaker (certainly one of the most promising ones we’ve got under 40…let alone under 25!!) doesn’t dig a certain borderline “canonical” director?”
I thought it was pretty clear by reading Mr. Kenny’s original post that what he found offensive in Dunham’s interview were the form of her comments, not her particular disliking of the works of Nicholas Ray. I thought, after several comments by Mr. Kenny himself and several others, that it should be perfectly clear by now this discussion is about Dunham’s tone and her vapid reasonings in that particular interview, not about putting her against the wall because she doesn’t like ‘Bigger than life’. I thought nobody would make that mistake again.
I was wrong.
Yes, the whole discussion went off the rails pretty soon for the way it started, an amused outrage at a little interview, but… well, it looks like there’s now a lot of people, me included, that had no idea whatsoever of the existence of ‘Tiny furniture’ or at least weren’t particularly interested in it and now eagerly want to see the damn thing to decide if Miss Dunham is a privileged moron, a precocious master or some unholy combination of the two.
So all this is GREAT for her.
And what the left bollock of Jesus means Dunham’s criticism is much more “effective” than Kenny’s? Please?
Sorry, a couple of ‘Misses’ missing in the first paragraph.
I’m pretty sure that “Ray Carney droolz” actually is true. That guy only likes, like, two things, right?
Bill, I think that Ray Carney is Charles Kinbote brought to life. His full and obsessive appropriation of Cassavetes as an academic specialty was always kind of nutty.
who is Ray Carney? and how on earth can some precocious New York doll who’s made a movie be among “our most promising film makers under 40” who Carney has taken notice of for YEARS!?! Was he friends with her in college – which she graduated from a year ago?
This whole thing is just bizarre. People really will argue about ANYTHING on the internet…and even the most ineffectual marginal director’s have their fanboys. Pardon me if I don’t bow the the greatness of a girl who seems incapable of talking about anything but herself.
wait…is Joseph referring to the self-described Cassavetes “scholar” Ray Carney? The guy who thinks anything that makes more than $100,000 is vapid and who’s only fans are people like Lena Dunham who think his “intellectual” stance is a beacon in a world of CGI? In other words, a deranged twerp who appeals to kids to immature to see him for the snake oil salesman he is?
THAT Ray Carney?
Anytime Ray Carney gets brought up in places where I hang out, I get nervous, because on his mailbag pages there are lots of gushy letters signed by a “Tom Russell” and, yes, I am that Tom Russell.
I sometimes look at my life and wonder, “Who the hell was that person in my body?” I was once a Carney acolyte; now, an apostate. I was once a far-right full-blown loony; now, a liberal Democrat.
The only explanation I have is that there was something about each that appealed to me on a psychological level: Carney woke up my aesthetic brain, even if I then came to reject many of his values; the far-rightness fed into my religious self-righteousness, my vague sense of entitlement and resentment, and the racist/homophobic values my parents raised me with. I guess in both cases, I came to my senses and have tried to distance myself from myself ever since.
[Not that, mind you, being on the right makes someone a loony, a racist, or a homophobe; there is, of course, a difference between classic conservatism and, well, Big Hollywood.]
The Carney reference likely has more to do with his relationship to the Safdie’s, a circle that Dunham has joined, rather than any real study of her work.
@joel – Charles Kinbote has more self-awareness.
@Tom – is that from PIECE OF CAKE?
@bill– Not familiar with PIECE OF CAKE, though I am familiar with a piece of cake– like a delectable slice of rhubarb cake. (Unless you’re responding to something said by the other Tom?)
Yeah, I think to compare poor Ray C. to Kinbote is giving him too much credit. It’s more like he’s become Peter Breck’s character at the end of “Shock Corridor,” only he won’t shut up.
Russ H. brings up Carney’s relationship with the Safdies, and Dunham’s alliance with same, which ties into the dirty little not-quite-secret regarding microbudget filmmakers and certain academics and critics, which is that in these groups social alliances count for a lot, and weird little wars are waged almost constantly, and you’re either with us or against us, as it were. I’m reasonably sure some of my own barbs have napalmed several possible “bridges,” gosh darn it. I have been told, every now and then, by persons I don’t get along with, that EVERYBODY in the “film community” now hates me, and that I was—just the other day, as it happens!…because that’s always how this story goes— yet again the subject of a mass e‑mail which discussed how I am a complete asshole, a washed-up has-been, old, fat, bald, bad teeth, unstylishly dressed, etc., etc, and which all of the recipients absolutely concurred with, etc., etc, and thus why don’t I just kill myself. (That part is never actually articulated, but I really don’t know what other conclusion I’m MEANT to draw from such revelations.) I never got to actually SEE any of these mass e‑mails, mind you, but I got the message, which cut me to the quick: That is, that I’d never, ever, ever be invited to the same dinner party as, say, Mary Bronstein. Or someone like her. Helas, c’est la vie, etc. I’ve also heard from individuals who have received rather (and I don’t use this word all that often) Orwellian “warnings” about associating with me, which must be quite charming.
Anyway, that sort of thing is no small deal in this world. Most of the time it springs from a good/innocent impulse, that is, one doesn’t like to see one’s friends attacked or made sport of. But it certainly has its venal and perhaps even sinister sides as well.
@Tom Russell – Oops! Yes, sorry, I was responding to Tom Carson. But neither you nor cake should take it personally.
Instead of Kinbote, maybe the guy from The Aspern Papers? When I tried to read about Cassavates ten years ago, during a big retrospective at the Paris theater in NYC (is that still around?), there was nothing available on the director that was not written by Carney, edited by Carney, or that quoted Carney at length. If he revived Cassavetes’ reputation, then I’m thrilled, but there is a very proprietary attitude from some academics that they “own” a certain author or issue or period of history. Cassavetes can easily be understood without Emerson or the pragmatists, and he can easily be enjoyed without concurrently trashing all non-naturalistic cinema–but you would never get that from the Carney-approved books, including the books of interviews that he edited. If Carney’s got followers, then I hope that they’re able to do interesting work within a very narrow aesthetic.
That said, his book on Capra is really good. His limitations are very narrow indeed, but his recommendations rarely steer me wrong (which is why I’m surprised to hear he digs Dunham, but whatever, I’m staying out of that).
@bill: no, Goshawk Squadron. The cranky hero grunting “I hate the bastard” as each pilot comes in, irrespective of whether or not he knows them. I just reread it, so pardon, all, for a very obscure reference. I just like to bring up Derek Robinson – obscurity’s answer to Patrick O’Brian – whenever possible.
Otherwise, this whole Dunham/Nick Ray flap is starting to remind me of Molly Ringwald’s famous faux pas when she blew off a meeting with the very elderly Lillian Gish. From then on, no self-respecting movie fan had a good word for her, and poor Molly couldn’t understand why it was such a big deal.
Let me backtrack slightly from my distancing, at least enough to say that I agree with Vadim on the Capra book.
@The Siren
“I think Mason is brilliant in Bigger Than Life, and I am suspicious of a director who doesn’t, as well as of a director who has a rather narrow concept of what makes for great screen acting.”
It raises an interesting question: what do we require from our artists’ preferences? What happens when a filmmaker, say, has a very narrow conception of great acting (or writing… or directing… or lighting…), but does terrific work within that limited construction? I don’t have an answer, but it’s intriguing to think about.
@Tom Carson -
“…‘Who’s next?’ He looked in the sky. ‘Three.’
‘Three…Finlayson.’
‘Ah. Bloody Finlayson. I hate that bastard…How long has he been out of hospital?’
‘About a week.’
‘Hurt his neck, didn’t he?’
‘Well, he hurt almost everything – left foot, hip, ribs, tail, right arm, scalp. And his neck, yes. He burned himself, too.’
‘Huh…If his neck won’t work I don’t want him…Any fool can look forwards,’ Woolley said. ‘Question is, can he look backwards?’ Finlayson taxied off to the far end of the field. Woolley raised his binoculars. ‘Ten.’
‘Ten…O’Shea.’
‘Ah. Bloody O’Shea. I hate that bastard.’
The adjutant looked at his list. ‘You’ve never even met him.’
‘What’s his name?’
———-
And so on. Of course. Also:
“obscurity’s answer to Patrick O’Brian”
I love that. I’m going to steal it.
As for Carney, he can be as narrow in his expertise and aesthetics and all the rest of it as he wants to be. But why does he have to be such a prick about it?
Finally, from way back, @The Siren – Hey, there’s a first time for everything!
Maybe Carney just digs women with ugly-ass tattoos.
@ cmasonwells -
Interesting question, and one that deserves at least a little teasing out. My first impulse was to cite Kubrick, who had what one could call a narrow style; it could also easily be called very specific. I think the distinction lies between style and taste: Kubrick, in interviews, expresses admiration for a wide array of films and filmmakers, but his actual work shoes a singularity so controlled and unmistakably his that it’s almost scary. I think this could be said of a lot of Great Filmmakers – they might admire or enjoy certain kinds of work (like the story, cited on this thread earlier, and which I’d also heard before, about Malick being a big fan of ZOOLANDER) without actually showing a preference for that form or content in their own work.
The only thing that sucks more dick than FEMALE DIRECTORS is OLD MOVIES.
You guys should be watching AQUAMARINE or something instead of this old bullshit.
And women can’t direct for shit. No visual style whatsoever.
Women in general aren’t very smart, and are only worth a fuck if they’re HOT.
Wow. Mr. G. really ought not comment at such late hours. It seems to bring certain ugly inchoate tendencies straight to his surface.
Que-est-ce-que c’est cette “Aquamarine?”
You know what might be fun? Rewriting the lyrics to “Losing My Edge,” for film criticism!
I’m losing my edge
To the kids
Who say “Ugh, yawn, bring a book.”
But I was there.
I was there when Pauline Kael told Andrew Sarris
“Come on Andrew, even Otto knows that ‘Hurry Sundown’ was a piece of shit,”
In the back of Otto’s limo
With the director present.
I was there.
I was there when Jean-Pierre Gorin brought Jean Luc-Godard
To Manny Farber’s studio
And Godard looked at one of Farber’s paintings
For ten minutes
In complete silence
And then said something epigrammatic
That none of us could remember
Ten minutes afterwards.
But I’m losing my edge
Losing my edge
To the kids
With the RED cameras
And the bad tattoos…
Etc. etc.
Good morning, everyone!
@cmasonwells Ah well, I did say “suspicious of,” not “incensed at.” Bigger Than Life, and James Mason in it, fits my own sensibility so well that I have to wonder what I might get out of a 24-year-old director who thinks they’re a snooze. That doesn’t mean I won’t like her movie, just that I’m wary. The reason I’m not prepared to go off on Ms Dunham the way I did Jeffrey Wells on Sirk is that she doesn’t appear to be saying that I must be a four-eyed fussy schoolmarm if I force her to eat the Marmite sandwich that is the filmography of Nicholas Ray.
The answer is that of course if the director works well in her range, I don’t care what she claims to like. There are plenty of directors who can be bitchy; Ingmar Bergman made a part-time career out of it and I never once thought for a second “I no longer want to watch his movies because he dissed Welles as an actor.” And neither, I will venture, would anyone else in this thread, even if they don’t like Bergman. Mind you, Bergman had earned the right to be rude; at this early point in her career Ms Dunham absolutely has not. But that is a question of manners and judgment, not talent.
Since I’m banging on about the obvious here anyway I will add that Tom Carson’s point about Molly Ringwald is apt. Ringwald had shut her finger in a car door, if I recall, but the magazine journalist quoted poor Gish as saying “I guess she doesn’t care about me because I’m old.” Thus making Molly Ringwald sound like a coldhearted birthday party guest from Stella Dallas. Ms Dunham shouldn’t be nailed up for a possibly tossed-off remark to a interviewer, even if I do think she desperately needs to take another look at James Fucking Mason.
It’s good if a filmmaker watches a wide variety of films. But, as it goes, a filmmaker is not required to LIKE a wide variety of films.
David Gordon Green is a confessed Steven Seagal fan. And so am I.
Re: James Fucking Mason…I saw WESTWORLD at the Aero on Friday night and Richard Benjamin was there for a Q&A. He talked quite a bit about THE LAST OF SHEILA and how working with Mason was one of the highlights of his acting career. I’m paraphrasing but Benjamin said: “A scene with James was just so conversational, I forgot about my lines – you were just talking to him. This never happened to me before but I wouldn’t be thinking about my next line with him. I would just react.”
Point, James F. Mason.
Can we posthumously apply to have his name officially changed to James Fucking Mason. because it fits. it really does.
That “Losing My Edge” parody is funny enough to retroactively justify this entire thread.
Glenn-
Nicholas Ray is just a guy who made some films. Ones you apparently think quite highly of. Lena Dunham is just a girl who is making some films. Ones you haven’t even watched. To criticize one filmmaker for not liking one aspect in the film of the other so absolutely is one of the most childish, arrogant things I’ve read on the ‘net in a while.
RTFP, Hartigan.
And I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
Also, you don’t really get around the “ ‘net” much, do you? Or are you just playing, because you want to be able to say that?
Fail.
William Shakespeare is just a guy who wrote some words.
Fail? Obviously, discussion here is pointless.
No, the discussion has been going along quite well, you just obviously didn’t bother to read much of it and understood even less.
I think you are all doing Ray Carney a huge disservice. When reading an article and letter by him on the internet he can appear to be very narrow minded and ridiculous, but that’s because short excerpts cannot adequately represent anyone. In his books and full length interviews he repeatedly advocates for originality and diversity in filmmaking. He doesn’t advocate any formula or solution. His taste in films demonstrates it quite enough: Bresson and Cassavetes are two of his favorite filmmakers. They couldn’t be more different. Not to mention the fact that his book on Dreyer has a chapter called “The Limits of Realistic Representation.” To call him narrow-minded is a bit, well wrong, in the face of this.
I completely agree that Emerson and the pragmatists aren’t necessary for an understanding of Cassavetes. But Carney doesn’t say that they’re necessary either. He doesn’t even say his own criticism is necessary. He simply uses them as aids to an understanding of Cassavetes, and they work quite well too. Emerson’s concepts of skating on the surfaces of life apply perfectly to Cassavetes’ dynamic characters.
The most ridiculous critique that I’ve heard people offer is that Carney hates any Hollywood film, just out of principle. It surprises me that people are still in this Kindergarten thinking mode, and would think that any adult’s critical sense functions at this level. The reason Carney doesn’t like the overwhelming majority of Hollywood films is because they can be easily read. Most Hollywood films deliberately have a filmmaking formula, so that they can tell interesting stories. They lack original form so that they can stream easily read content. Carney believes form is largely what makes art great. This is not a controversial opinion in the slightest. Susan Sontag’s Against Interpretation offers the same argument. Read most pre-50’s critics in the other arts and you’ll see the same view. It’s only a bizarre and radical idea in the film community, a very young and immature community compared to the other arts. Carney is raising filmmaking to the standards of other arts. In an interview he said that, unlike most people, he didn’t come into filmmaking because of some identification with a character or movie; but instead came as an outsider who wanted the same standards as the older arts he had been familiar with.
There is much more to say, but honestly, just spend sometime with his writings, scrutinize it, and then criticize it. I get the feeling most of his critics just read a statement by him.
Alexander,
The “skating on the surfaces of life” argument is what bugged me at the time, representing, I thought, a misunderstanding of both Emerson and Cassavetes. I remember it being beaten into the ground by Carney over the course of several books. But you make a good case for him. I’ll give him another try. It’s been more than a decade since I read Carney, so maybe there is some newer stuff that will intrigue me, or maybe I’ve grown up a bit.
Carney’s misreadings of Emerson are even greater than his ego, which is saying something. He needs to read more Stanley Cavell.