2017 at the Movies: farewell to the actors

Bill Paxton in ONE FALSE MOVE
Bill Paxton in ONE FALSE MOVE

I first noticed the actor Bill Paxton as small town police chief Dale “Hurricane” Dixon in the 1992 indie neo-noir One False Move (a very underrated indie). In two more indelible and more widely remembered performances, he played the lead role of polygamist Bill Henrickson for the five seasons of HBO’s Big Love and astronaut Fred Haise in Apollo 13.

 

Mary Tyler Moore with Donald Sutherland in ORDINARY PEOPLE
Mary Tyler Moore with Donald Sutherland in ORDINARY PEOPLE

Mary Tyler Moore, of course, is a giant of television history because of The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Mary Tyler Moore Show and all the fine shows produced by her MTM Enterprises. And her Mary Richards instantly became a societal icon. If ever anyone doubts the genius of her comic timing, they can just watch the 4-minute Chuckles the Clown funeral from the Mary Tyler Moore Show (it’s on YouTube).

She made very few movies, but they are worth remembering. She was Oscar-nominated for her still, emotionally distant parent in Ordinary People – a performance that she later said that she had modeled on her own father. She was hilarious as Ben Stiller’s mom in Flirting With Disaster. And she was also Elvis Presley’s last movie leading lady in the unintentionally funny Change of Habit, in which she played a social worker nun (!) who had to choose between her religious order and the ghetto doctor (Elvis!).

 

Powers Boothe in GUYANA TRAGEDY: THE STORY OF JIM JONES
Powers Boothe in GUYANA TRAGEDY: THE STORY OF JIM JONES

I first noticed – and was captivated by – the actor Powers Boothe as the mad cult leader Jim Jones in Guyana Tragedy: The Story of Jim Jones; this is one of the best (and scariest) movie portrayals of a historical figure. That Emmy-winning performance launched his screen career and led to another delicious role – Cy Tolliver, the cold-eyed and evil rival to Ian McShane’s cold-eyed and evil Al Swearingen in Deadwood.

 

Martin Landau in NORTH BY NORTHWEST

Martin Landau had an acting career that spanned seven decades and resulted in 177 screen credits. His two finest performances came at age 61 and age 66 – the killer of an inconvenient mistress in Woody Allen’s Crimes and Misdemeanors and his Oscar winning turn as Bela Lugosi in Ed Wood. Landau’s most famous role came when he was only 31, as he chased Cary Grant across the faces of Mount Rushmore in Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest.

The actress Dina Merrill made a career of playing high society matrons (as she was in real life). She was never better in one of my favorite films, Robert Altman’s The Wedding.

The actor Stephen Furst had 88 screen credits, but none more iconic than the role in his second feature film: Kent “Flounder” Dorfman in Animal House. “Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”

I remember the versatile actress Glenne Headly for giving Steve Martin and Michael Caine more than they can handle in the hilarious con artist movie Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Here’s her NYT obit. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is available on DVD from Netflix and to stream from Amazon, iTunes and Vudu.

Michael Nyqvist co-starred with Noomi Rapace in the Swedish Girl with the Dragon Tattoo movies. He was also really good in last year’s overlooked indie neo-noir Frank & Lola.

Sam Shephard was America’s greatest living playwright for decades, and also made a mark as an actor with 68 screen credits. His most memorable role was as test pilot Chuck Yeager in The Right Stuff.

Danielle Darrieux, who at age 36 played the privileged and shallow countess in Max Ophuls’ The Earrings of Madame de…, died at age 100.

Emmanuelle Riva’s 89 screen credits are spread over the past SEVEN decades. She was a fixture of the French New Wave, beginning with Alain Resnais’ Hiroshima Mon Amour in 1959. We remember her Oscar-nominated performance in 2012’s heartbreaking Alzheimer’s drama Amour.

Emmanuelle Riva in ARMOUR
Emmanuelle Riva in AMOUR

 

The actor Frank Vincent gloried in mobster roles, playing characters like Johnny Big , Joey Big Ears, Tommy Tomatoes and Tommy ‘The Bull’ Vitagli. He is best known as Phil Leotardo in The Sopranos. His most memorable (and ill-fated) line was directed to Joe Pesci in Goodfellas: Go home and get your shine box….

Haruo Nakajima was the first actor to play Godzilla (before computers did that). Nakajima, who had been playing the minor bad guys dispatched by the hero in samurai movies, sweated profusely inside the rubber monster suit for twelve Godzilla films.

John Hurt (center) in THE HIT
John Hurt (center) in THE HIT

John Hurt’s magnificent career started in the 1960s, but I first noticed him in 1976 when he leaped out of the screen as the lethally mad Caligula when PBS broadcast the BBC miniseries I, Claudius. Hurt is probably most recognized (by my generation) for his Oscar-nominated performance as the title character in 1980’s The Elephant Man or as the first victim of the alien in Alien. But Hurt was always able to stay current with performances in popular films like V for Vendetta and Hellboy and he played Ollivander in the Harry Potter movies. He also recently made Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (2011) and Snowpiercer (2013), and was the best thing (as The Priest) in the awful film Jackie (2016). My own favorite John Hurt performance was as the more disciplined hit man in the 1984 British neo-noir The Hit.

John Hurt (left) with Derek Jacobi in I, CLAUDIUS
John Hurt (left) with Derek Jacobi in I, CLAUDIUS
John Hurt with Natalie Portman in JACKIE
John Hurt with Natalie Portman in JACKIE

2017 at the Movies: farewell to the filmmakers

Jonathan Demme
Jonathan Demme

If he had made no other films, Jonathan Demme would be forever remembered for his horror masterpiece The Silence of the Lambs (1991), one of only three movies to win Oscars in all four major categories: Best Picture, Director (Demme), Leading Actor (Anthony Hopkins) and Leading Actress (Jodie Foster). It also won the Screenwriting Oscar (Ted Tally).

Jonathan Demme, however, was a director who could master many genres. He started out with genre exploitation movies, and I first admired his work in the little indie Melvin and Howard (1980), with its delightful performances by Jason Robards and Paul Le Mat. Then he made one of the two or three best ever rock concert films, Stop Making Sense (1984) with The Talking Heads.  And then he directed the topical drama Philadelphia (1993) and the wonderfully engaging addiction dramedy Rachel Getting Married (2008).

His body of work screams versatility, and his masterpiece…Well, his masterpiece just screams.

John Avildsen won the Best Director Oscar for Rocky (which also won Oscars for Best Picture and Film Editing). We still employ many cultural references to Rocky today, and remember it for launching the career of Sylvester Stallone and a spate of mostly mediocre sequels. But don’t discount Rocky. Remember that someone had to choose how to shoot Rocky Balboa pounding beef carcasses, running up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and courting Adrian by introducing his turtles Cuff and Link. Movies don’t achieve iconic status by accident. Avildsen made a brilliant film that was both poignant and thrilling.

In his film Night of the Living Dead, George Romero re-invented the fictional zombie as a shambling, semi-decomposed brain-eater, and that is the zombie that we all envision today. Night of the Living Dead also changed movie standards (for better or for worse) to accept gratuitous gore for the sake of entertainment. And, because its rejection by major movie studios forced Romero to go indie, Night of the Living Dead became one of the first hugely successful independent films.

Bruce Brown directed The Endless Summer in 1966, thus inventing the surf documentary.

Jerry Lewis: Not My Cup of Tea. Maybe now we’ll finally get to see his notorious and long-suppressed The Day the Clown Died, the 1973 movie Lewis wrote, directed and starred in – about a clown imprisoned with children in a Nazi death camp.

PSYCHO: the movie, the documentary and the podcast

It’s the favorite month for scary movies, so The Movie Gourmet is featuring Hitchcock’s classic Psycho, with two superb 2017 accompaniments.

I recommend that you start with the six-part series of podcasts Inside Psycho.  Podcaster Mark Ramsey begins with the real-life crime that sparked Psycho’s origin story and takes us through the purchase of the book rights, which turned out to be a very one-sided business deal.  Ramsey puts Psycho in the context of Hitchcock’s career moment and reveals the film’s stepchild status at Paramount (it was filmed at Universal with a TV crew).  He gives us a deep dive into the filming of the shower scene, including the censors’ search for the nudity (was it really in there?).   We even learned about Hitchcock’s demands as to how Psycho would be exhibited – rules that changed the movie-going habits in our culture.  Ramsey even tells us what happened to Marion’s car.

You’ll enjoy the movie more after you’ve listened to this podcast.  Go to your podcast app and search for “Inside Psycho” or access the Inside Psycho website.

inside psycho

For your next course, I recommend this year’s documentary 78/52: Hitchcock’s Shower Scene, named for the 78 setups and 52 cuts in Psycho’s shower scene.  Documentarian Alexandre O. Philippe takes us through aspects of the movie, but drills most deeply into the notorious shower scene. Philippe brings us noted composer Danny Elfman to comment on Bernard Herrmann’s famously screeching strings.   We hear from Walter Murch, the brilliant film editor who invented the field of movie sound design, about the visual imagery and sound effects.   And Amy Duddleston, the film editor on the 1998 Gus Van Sant Psycho remake, ruefully recounts how it’s all even harder than it looks.

Here’s a representative nugget from both Inside Psycho and 78/52.  Before her shower, Janet Leigh as Marion enters the bathroom, tears up paper notes and flushes them down the toilet.  Amazingly, this is the first flushing toilet in hitherto prudish American cinema.  Seconds later, of course, come more shocks.

And here’s a treat, we meet the perky and amiable Marli Renfro, the Playboy Bunny and pin-up girl who was Janet Leigh’s nude body double in the shower scene.  That scene took seven grueling days to film. Jamie Lee Curtis relates her mom’s weariness with the strategic moleskin that kept slipping off.  Renfro was just happy to pick up the extra paychecks.

Finally, there’s a fun montage of Psycho references in later movies and popular culture.  In what must be a spectacular half-joke, the documentary is dedicated “to Mother”.  78/52: Hitchcock’s Shower Scene is available to stream from Amazon,  iTunes, YouTube and Google Play.

Janet Leigh in PSYCHO and 78/52: HITCHCOCK’S SHOWER SCENE

And then, of course there’s the original Psycho itself.  It’s still effectively shocking – both in killing off the star one-third of the way through (almost unthinkable even today) and in the climactic reveal.  Anthony Perkins is wonderful as Norman Bates, especially in how he gets us to understand immediately that Norman’s awkward oddness may be an indicator of more severe insanity.

Psycho is one hour and 49 minutes long. The key is to stop watching as soon as poor Simon Oakland shows up on-screen as the shrink Dr. Fred Richman.  The usually reliable character actor Oakland was thanklessly tasked with delivering an interminable five-minute lecture on Norman Bates’ diagnosis.  It’s painful overexplaining and brings downs the Psycho experience.  You’ll thank me.

You can rent the original Psycho on DVD from Netflix, stream it from iTunes, Vudu and YouTube, or catch it on Turner Classic Movies or elsewhere on TV.

Simon Oakland in PSYCHO

 

 

 

The films of Taylor Sheridan

Chris Pine and Ben Foster in HELL OR HIGH WATER

The actor Taylor Sheridan has written three recent films, and he has emerged as one of America’s most important filmmakers.  The three movies are Sicario, Hell or High Water and Wind River (which is his directorial debut – I’m not counting the low budget horror film Vile). I named Hell or High Water as the very best movie of 2016.

Here are some observations about Sheridan’s movies so far.

Western settings: This is the most obvious Sheridan signature: Sicario is set on the border between Mexico and Texas and New Mexico.  Hell or High Water is set in West Texas (but primarily shot in New Mexico).  Wind River is set in Wyoming.  Sheridan, very comfortable with wide open spaces, grew up on a ranch outside the hamlet of Cranfills Gap, Texas, between Fort Worth and Waco.  He isolates his characters in sparsely populated landscapes under Big Skies.  But he’s not sentimental – the Mexican border city in Sicario and the Indian Reservation in Wind River are horrible places.

Great dialogue:  From Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” to “Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night!” to “Forget it, Jake.  It’s Chinatown,” great movies are known for iconic dialogue.  Sheridan is reviving that lost art.

From Hell or High Water:

Toby: “You’re talkin’ like you don’t think we’re going to get away with it.”
Tanner: “I never met anyone who got away with anything.”

And from Wind River:

Who’s the victim today? Looks like it’s gonna be me.”

and

This isn’t the land of backup, Jane. This is the land of you’re on your own.”

Elizabeth Olsen and Jeremy Renner in WIND RIVER

Resists the easy: Sicario revolves around a fish-out-of water female cop, but he doesn’t mate her her with one of the male stars.  In Hell or High Water, Toby insures the family’s security – but that isn’t enough for his ex-wife to take him back.  In Wind River, Cory and Jane meet cute (in a way) but don’t fall into bed; and Cory’s ex-wife doesn’t comfort him, either.

Not everything is going to be okay:  Sheridan knows how to craft a satisfying movie ending, but it’s not going to Happily Ever After for everyone.  In Hell or High Water, the action that brings peace to Chris Pine’s character brings eternal unease to Jef Bridges’.
Wind River’s reservation still devoid of hope.  Sicario’s border region is still poisioned by drugs and the drug war.

Populist politics:  Sheridan hates that, in much of our society, people are disposable.  Sheridan explores this theme with the victims of the drug wars in Sicario, the flyover-state working class in Hell or High Water and the Native Americans on the reservation in Wind River.

It’s an impressive body of work from Sheridan.  I’m looking forward to his next screenplays, a follow-up to Sicario named Soldado and a TV drama titled Yellowstone.

Benicio Del Toro and Emily Blunt in SICARIO
Benicio Del Toro and Emily Blunt in SICARIO

HARRY DEAN STANTON

Harry Dean Stanton in PARIS, TEXAS

I’ve been traveling and haven’t had a chance until now to recognize the life and career of the actor Harry Dean Stanton, who died this month at the age of 91. Coincidentally, Harry Dean was on my mind because I had just watched his masterpiece Paris, Texas on the flight to my vacation destination, and I was preparing to watch the screener for his last film, Lucky, to be released in the Bay Area next weekend.

Once of the most noticeable of the prolific character actors, he improbably became a leading man at age 58 and, in his 80s, starred as the menacing leader of a polygamist cult in Big Love.  I’ll be writing about Lucky tomorrow.

Harry Dean was a great favorite of mine – and of many other cinephiles.  Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel once posited that a movie could not be entirely bad if Harry Dean Stanton were in it.  Harry Dean often seemed like that uncle/neighbor/mentor who had Lived A Life but would let you inside and let you learn from his journey.  He was ever accessible and always piqued the audience’s curiosity about his characters.

Harry Dean Stanton garnered 200 screen credits, including scores of 1960s TV shows.  He appeared on seemingly every TV Western:   Rawhide, Bonanza, The Big Valley, The High Chaparral, The Virginian, Laramie, The Rifleman, Bat Masterson and Stoney Burke.  Think how many times we Baby Boomers must have seen him in The Fugitive, Adam 12, Mannix, Combat!, The Untouchables, and even The Adventures of Rin Tin Tin.

In the early 1970s, I first really noticed Harry Dean for his quirkiness, singularity and forlorn humor in his sidekick roles in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid and The Missouri Breaks. That’s when you had to sit through the end credits to find out who that actor was.

Along the way, he made three Monte Hellman cult films (Ride the Whirlwind, Cockfighter, Two-Lane Blacktop) and was friends with fellow Hollywood outlaws Warren Oates and Jack Nicholson.  He shared a house with Nicholson for a while (can you imagine?).

Also a fine musician, Harry Dean left us with touching vocal renditions of Just a Closer Walk with Thee in Cool Hand Luke and Volver, Volver in Lucky.

Natassja Kinski and Harry Dean Stanton in PARIS, TEXAS

In 1984, at the age of 58, Harry Dean Stanton broke through in two wonderful lead performances.  He played the old school mentor of the punk Emilio Estevez in the cult film Repo Man.  And he made his masterpiece, Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas.

In Paris Texas, Harry Dean plays Travis, a man so traumatized that he has disappeared and is found wandering across the desert and mistaken for a mute.  As he is cared for by his brother (Dean Stockwell), he evolves from feral to erratic to troubled, but with a sense of tenderness and a determination to put things right.  We see Travis as a madman who gains extraordinary lucidity about what wrong in his life and his own responsibility for it.

At the film’s climax, Travis speaks to Jane (Natassja Kinski) through a one-way mirror (she can’t see him).  Spinning what at first seems like parable, Travis explains what happened to him – and to her – and why it happened.  It’s a 20-minute monologue so captivating and touching that it rises to be recognized as one of the very greatest screen performances.

Kinski, Stockwell and the child actor Hunter Carlson are also exceptional.  Paris, Texas is available on DVD from Netflix and streaming from Amazon, iTunes and FilmStruck.

We’ll miss you, Harry Dean.

Harry Dean Stanton in LUCKY. Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures

Farewell to Flounder

Stephen Furst (center) in ANIMAL HOUSE
Stephen Furst (center) in ANIMAL HOUSE

The actor Stephen Furst had 88 screen credits, but none more iconic than the role in his second feature film:  Kent “Flounder” Dorfman in Animal House.

“Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son.”

for fans of HOUSE OF CARDS

Lars Mikkelsen in HOUSE OF CARDS
Lars Mikkelsen in HOUSE OF CARDS

Season Five of House of Cards is now available on Netflix.  One of the jewels of Seasons 3 and 4 was the character of Victor Petrov, a thinly-disguised Vladimir Putin played by the Danish actor Lars Mikkelsen.  (It doesn’t look like he’s back for Season 5, but you might want to rewatch some previous episodes to prep for binge watching the new season.)

Putin is such a rich real-life character, with such an unashamed flair for the inappropriate.  In House of Cards, Petrov’s antics are only a shade more outrageous than Putin’s:  kissing the American First Lady on the mouth, demanding that the President fire his own wife as UN Ambassador, etc.  But Petrov is more sympathetic because he gets to make explicit his perceived need to look strong for his people.  Lars Mikkelsen just nails the meaty role of Petrov.

Lars Mikkelsen in HOUSE OF CARDS
Lars Mikkelsen in HOUSE OF CARDS

 

What you might not know is that Lars Mikkelsen is the older brother of a much bigger European movie star, Mads Mikkelsen.  You’ll recognize Mads Mikkelsen from After the Wedding and the 2006 Casino Royale (he was the villain with the tears of blood). He won the 2012 Cannes Best Actor award for his performance. in The Hunt Reportedly, Lars followed his younger brother into acting, which is great for film fans.

Mads Mikkelsen in THE HUNT
Mads Mikkelsen in THE HUNT

coming up on TV: a Korean War movie sampler

Gene Evans in THE STEEL HELMET
Gene Evans in THE STEEL HELMET

Turner Classic Movies usually serves up war movies on the Memorial Day weekend, and, on May 27, TCM will present an uncommon slate of Korean War movies.  Most of the featured films were made between 1951 and 1957 – more or less contemporaneously with the conflict.  If you want to survey this subgenre, here’s your chance.

The best two are:

  • Men in War (1957): An infantry lieutenant (Robert Ryan) must lead his platoon out of a desperate situation, and he encounters a cynical and insubordinate sergeant (Aldo Ray) loyally driving a jeep with his PTSD-addled colonel (Robert Keith). In conflict with each other, they must navigate through enemy units to safety. Director Anthony Mann is known for exploring the psychology of edgy characters, and that’s the case with Men in War.
  • The Steel Helmet (1951) is a gritty classic by the great writer-director Sam Fuller, a WWII combat vet who brooked no sentimentality about war. Gene Evans, a favorite of the two Sams (Fuller and Peckinpah), is especially good as the sergeant. American war movies of the period tended toward to idealize the war effort, but Fuller relished making war movies with no “recruitment flavor”.  Although the Korean War had only been going on for a few months when Fuller wrote the screenplay, he was able to capture the feelings of futility that later pervaded American attitudes about the Korean War.

And these two are unusually thoughtful “message” films:

  • The Rack (1956):  A returning US army captain (Paul Newman) is court-martialed for collaborating with the enemy while a POW.  He was tortured, and The Rack explores what can be realistically expected of a prisoner under duress.  It’s a pretty good movie, and Wendell Corey and Walter Pidgeon co-star.
  • The Hook (1963):  A small unit of GIs is ordered to kill a North Korean prisoner, and this stagey screenplay explores the morality of following – or resisting – orders that violate civilized standards.  Kirk Douglas gives one of his testosterone-laden performances.

On the same day, TCM is also airing One Minute to Zero (1952), Target Zero (1955) and Battle Hymn (1957).

This time around, TCM is not showing the three most well-known Korean War movies:   The Manchurian Candidate, Pork Chop Hill and M*A*S*H.   The precursor to M*A*S*H*, of course, was  Battle Circus, a 1953 Humphrey Bogart film about a camp full of rowdy army surgeons.

And here’s a curiosity among Korean War movies: War Hunt,  a 1962 film about a rookie (Robert Redford) joining a Korean War unit as a new replacement with John Saxon as the platoon’s psycho killer.  Along with Redford, Sidney Pollack and Francis Ford Coppola are in the cast, making War Hunt the only film with three Oscar-winning directors as actors.   Don’t blink, or you’ll miss Coppola as an uncredited convoy truck driver.

Robert Keith and Aldo Ray in MEN IN WAR
Robert Keith and Aldo Ray in MEN IN WAR

Remembering Jonathan Demme

Jonathan Demme
Jonathan Demme

If he had made no other films, Jonathan Demme, who has died, would be forever remembered for his horror masterpiece The Silence of the Lambs (1991). Rarely has a film had such an immediate, visceral impact on me. I had unwisely super-caffeinated myself just before watching it for the first time, and I became so anxious when the door to the storage facility was opened that I had to leave the theater. Of course, my curiosity about what would happen to Clarice and Hannibal soon drove me back to sit through the whole thing.

The Silence of the Lambs is one of only three movies to win Oscars in all four major categories:  Best Picture, Director (Demme), Leading Actor (Anthony Hopkins) and Leading Actress (Jodie Foster).  It also won the Screenwriting Oscar (Ted Tally).

Jonathan Demme, however, was a director who could master many genres. He started out with genre exploitation movies, and I first admired his work in the little indie Melvin and Howard (1980), with its delightful performances by Jason Robards and Paul Le Mat. Then he made one of the two or three best ever rock concert films, Stop Making Sense (1984) with The Talking Heads. Then he directed the topical drama Philadelphia (1993) and the wonderfully engaging addiction dramedy Rachel Getting Married (2008).

His body of work screams versatility, and his masterpiece…Well, his masterpiece just screams.

THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS
THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS

THE LOST CITY OF Z: director James Gray

James Gray photo courtesy of SFFILM
James Gray
photo courtesy of SFFILM

As I wrote on Friday, with The Lost City of Z, director James Gray revives the entire genre of the historical adventure epic. I saw The Lost City of Z earlier this month at the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILMFestival) at a screening with director James Gray, who took questions afterwards from SFFILM Director of Programming Rachel Rosen and the audience.

Gray joked that “You can’t really pitch a movie as ‘It’s like Indiana Jones, and then he gets eaten…'”  Gray said, “You you can’t beat a story told with elegance”, so you can have a subtext that is subversive. “Classical form allows the subtext to emerge.”

In one of those subtexts, Gray made it a point that the indigenous peoples in the movie are independent of his protagonist Fawcett; not just advancing the plot points in Fawcett’s quest. “It was very moving to be with the indigenous, and I filmed them doing what they do,”Gray said.  He resisted filming the jungle scenes in South Africa and other less expensive locations because he needed the real indigenous people in the movie.  Four real tribes – and their cultures – are shown in the film. Living so remotely, deep in the Amazon forest, the indigenous had little use for cash. One tribe asked to be paid in irrigation improvements. Another tribe negotiated for Lands End shorts.  Referring to the Battle of the Somme scene, he explained that the folly and barbarism of “WW I was the end of any idea that Europe was superior”.

“I was genetically designed to be an accountant in Minsk. There’s no reason for me to go to Amazonia to be eaten by mosquitoes”.  “Herzog has made three movies in the jungle. He is Superman. I’m not going back.”

Gray said that the real Fawcett is more complicated and less attractive than the screen version. As a man of his time, Fawcett was racist by our standards, and even thought that he would find more advanced “white Indians” responsible for his Lost City. The speech to the Royal Geographic Society was taken almost verbatim from Fawcett’s historical words. The actual location of Fawcett’s exploration “is no longer jungle because it has been cleared for soy bean fields”.

To shoot a film in 35 mm, Gray’s team had to train a film loader in 1970s camera equipment.  Each day, the day’s work went by crop duster to a local airport to Bogotá to Miami and, finally, to the lab in London. Each day the crew endured a nerve-wracking wait until getting a call by satellite phone to confirm the film’s arrival in London, Three days’ work didn’t make it and had to be shot over again.

Gray originally adapted the screenplay for Brad Pitt, who owned the movie rights to the book by David Grann, but, by the time they had raised the money, “then his big WW II movie came along”. Pitt’s producers pitched Benedict Cumberbatch for the lead, and Gray thought, “Wow, this guy looks very odd”, but then embraced that casting choice.
Two weeks before shooting, Cumberbatch backed out because his wife was pregnant and due during what would be the middle of the jungle shoot.

Pitt’s producers then pitched Charlie Hunnam for the lead. Gray’s wife had been binge-watching Sons of Anarchy, so Gray didn’t see the fit until he dined with Hunnam. Gray learned that Hunnam is a Brit from Newcastle and found him to be swashbuckler-handsome, charming, intelligent and driven – feeling underappreciated as a TV actor.  “I could mine that”. thought Gray.  Gray “understood the burden of having a father blow the family fortune” and was attracted to the character responding with an obsession to with become a famed success.

Gray also noted that Charlie Hunnam will play the title character in the King Arthur movie franchise and that Tom Holland, who plays Fawcett’s son, will be the new Spider Man.

As I wrote on Friday, movie studios used to make an entire genre of very fun movies from Gunga Din and The Four Feathers through Lawrence of Arabia and Zulu that featured white Europeans getting their thrills in exotic third world playgrounds. We often cringe at the racist premises and the treatment of “the natives” those movies today. Since the 1960s, the best examples of the genre, like Raiders of the Lost Ark, have had an ironic tinge. Gray’s The Lost Cuty of Z has all the spectacle of a swashbuckler, while braiding in modern sensitivities and a psychological portrait. This is a beautiful and thoughtful film.

I highly recommend this brilliant interview of Gray by Peter Canavese on Groucho Reviews If you stay with it to the end, there’s a whopper of a Joaquin Phoenix anecdote.

Charlie Hunnam (right) in THE LOST CITY OF Z photo courtesy of SFFILM
Charlie Hunnam (right) in THE LOST CITY OF Z
photo courtesy of SFFILM