All the Small Details

      You really gotta work your ass off to be a fan of television and not know this scene. I hadn't watched the show until very recently and even I know about the backwards speaking little person, the dancing that played out over the credits. It was an instant cultural landmark. This scene would have jarred minds today. That much can be seen in American Horror Story's runaway success (Even if not as good as Twin Peaks, it displays the same obsession with absurdity and tonal clashing.) But back in 1990, this scene pretty much dropped bricks in every single set of pants sitting in front of an ABC television. So why's it so damn distinctive?
      Part of why it's such a punch is everything came before it. The show has a predilection to using red, you can practically see it somewhere in every scene. Put this scene marks the absolute apex of that hue domination with some absolutely gorgeous and conscious production design. Everything in this scene is red. Everything that isn't red is in some way or another clashing with it, highlighting the red even more. This essentially punches the viewer in the face and demands their attention and, god damn, did they get it.
      Other notable moments. All the shots are perfectly off, static and full of needless headroom. Everyone's just somewhat off kilter in the shot. Then, for the content of the shots. Cooper's aged make up looks really bad but in a very interesting and subversive way. The way the light tinkles on his makeup is kinda creepier than if the make up was any good.
      And finally, the little guy talks backwards. And... It's just so much. I still can't quite wrap my brain around it.
      Overall, I think this scene's a perfect teacher of tonal crafting. You can see how much effort and planning went into crafting this environment and just how much you can get out of pre-planning and environment crafting.

Persona

Last week I watched Ingmar Bergman's 1966 film Persona for the first time. Its one of those films I'd heard about over and over again, and seen lots of references to in other films, but never actually watched it myself. I didn't really have any idea about what the plot was before going in, but after watching it I was really pleased with it. I tend to enjoy twisted, strange films that provoke thought and the urge to watch it a couple more times.

Here's the premise: Well-known theatre actress Elizabeth Vogler is in the middle of performing a play and suddenly finds that she is unable to speak, crippled with what we gather is an overwhelming anxiety or depression. She is sent to a facility and is looked after by Sister Alma, a nurse. The doctor decides it would be beneficial for Elizabeth and Alma to retreat to her seaside home to help Elizabeth recuperate faster. The two bond though Elizabeth still will not speak, while Alma uses her as a confidant of sorts, constantly talking to her and eventually confessing her innermost secrets. Elizabeth is physically healthy and able to speak, but still refuses while she voyeuristically "studies" Alma's character. Alma, soon in a weakened mental state, begins to assume the identity Elizabeth has cultivated for herself over her years of rising to fame as an actress. Alma basically becomes Elizabeth, helping Elizabeth cope by separating herself from the inner turmoil caused by her own existence.

Persona is minimally shot with many close ups, allowing the viewer to "get into the minds" of the characters. Its very cerebral, and provokes a lot of thought in order to piece it together, while also being pretty creepy. After watching I was able to see the connection between this film and one of my all time favorites, David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, which is said to be heavily influenced by Persona. Both Persona and Mulholland Drive feature main characters that are actors who meld identities with other characters. The concept of fluid identities is really fascinating, and also prompted me to think about where a person's identity lies in the profession of acting. I think that it must be hard for an actor to separate himself from the identity of a character he is playing, or truly know who he is as a person.

I really enjoyed this film, though I'm not sure I've fully grasped Persona in one viewing. I'm eager to watch it a few more times as well as check out more of Bergman's work.

Louie

Louis C.K.'s "Louie" is one my favorite shows on TV right now. With its hilarious and sometimes painfully awkward and dark moments, "Louie" shows depth that a lot of other shows (especially comedies) fall short on. If there's anything that "Louie" gets across, its that being a touring stand-up comedian doesn't mean life is always funny and lighthearted, rather it is merely an average person's life, often mundane and sometimes dark. This season, "Louie" has taken a turn for the surreal- with an episode arc displaying the more bazaar aspects of life- which is why last week's episode "Late Show Pt. 2" featuring Mr. Absurdity himself, David Lynch was the perfect crossover.

I am a huge David Lynch fan, so when I saw him appear on screen I was pleasantly surprised. Lynch played Louie's raving, eccentric late-night comedy coach, forcing Louie to rehearse Nixon-era jokes in preparation for the potential opportunity to replace David Letterman on The Late Show. Lynch's role highlights just how weird show business is, as well the antiquated but persisting late night talk show format. At one point, Lynch's character is modeling for Louie how to properly tell a joke on a late night show. Lynch comes out from behind the curtain, smiling and waving enthusiastically to the audience that isn't there as Louie watches on. Frankly, he looks like a absolutely insane. Then Louie looks down at the camera when suddenly the sounds of music and the audience accompany Lynch pretending to host, and it looks completely natural. Being the extremely self-aware person that he is, Louie sees this contrast, and realizes that he is perhaps unfit for the gig, unsure he possesses the ability to ham it up for the late night talk show format. The episode ends in a Rocky-like fashion, as Louie, after being instructed by Lynch's character, heads to the gym to box where he is promptly beat up by a young, lean, boxer. A very adequate metaphor for Louie and his career in the entertainment industry.