Streams of Narrative

One of the finest appreciations of television director James Burrows is a piece on his recurring role—as a television director—on the HBO comedy series The Comeback. When he wrote it in April, Slate’s Sam Adams couldn’t have known that we would lose Burrows just two months later. He was eighty-five.
- Sabzian is running transcripts of Pedro Costa’s introductions to three films he’s selected recently for programs in Stockholm and Copenhagen. Kenji Mizoguchi’s Flame of My Love (1949) reminds him that Jean-Marie Straub “always hinted that he considered Mizoguchi the greatest of all filmmakers. Even greater than Renoir or Ford.” While discussing Jacques Tourneur’s Stars in My Crown (1950), Costa tells the story of how, in the mid-1990s, he decided that he needed to stay and work in Fontainhas for a while. And in The Fearmakers (1958), Tourneur was working with “a broken man, with what was left of Dana Andrews . . . one feels that Jacques and Dana were really scared of what was coming. Maybe what they were afraid of is finally here; it’s among us now.”
- Throughout this year’s World Cup, the Guggenheim is presenting Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno’s Zidane, a 21st Century Portrait (2006), a two-channel video projection tracking Zinédine Zidane, the outstanding midfielder, as Real Madrid faced off against Villarreal in a 2005 La Liga match. Seventeen cameras remained trained on Zidane exclusively throughout the game while “the droning score by Scottish prog band Mogwai swells or, eerily, drops out entirely,” as Mark Asch writes for Screen Slate. “Zidane has setbacks (Juan Román Riquelme gives Villarreal a first-half lead after the referee awards a dubious penalty), comebacks (Zidane is involved in the buildup for Real’s two second-half goals), and a shocking final twist; it’s also full of stars, as befitting the peak of Real’s galactico era.” For Samuel Brodsky at Film Comment, the film’s “transcendental power . . . lies in the moments when we see Zidane simply observing, waiting.” For further World Cup–related viewing, see the lists put together by Carlos Aguilar for the New York Times and Alexandre Koberidze for Metrograph’s Journal.
- Playwright and poet Dan O’Brien has a beautiful piece in the new Film Quarterly on Carson Lund’s Eephus (2024), “a perfect little film: ‘perfect’ because I enjoyed watching it without reservation, and ‘perfect’ because it seems to be wholly the film it wants to be; ‘little’ because nothing much happens, and what does happen is happening at a community baseball field in small-town Massachusetts. (Gilles Deleuze praises ‘minor literature,’ and Eephus surely qualifies as ‘minor cinema,’ in the most positive sense.) Two teams composed of mostly middle-aged white men, the Riverdogs and Adler’s Paint, convene to play one last game before the field will be demolished to make way for the construction of a new school. That’s about it, in terms of plot . . . How can a film that disregards so many so-called principles of dramatic writing still manage to be so compelling? Since I happen to write plays, and this film reminds me of one, I thought I might try to answer this question for myself.”
- “If there’s anything that could be said to characterize ‘A film by Louise Weard,’ it’s everything,” writes Frank Falisi at the top of his interview with the director of the ongoing series Castration Movie for In Review Online. “We’re now over 120 years into cinema’s life as an art form,” says Weard, “which kind of coincides with the modernist novel, right? And so yes, I do view these movies as trying to do something literary with the film format. I’m definitely approaching what a modernist cinema can look like. Every shooting choice, all of the editing decisions, the structural choices of the storytelling, the dialogue . . . It’s all meant to push cinema in this way. I think you could find some comparisons to stream-of-consciousness writing, like Mrs. Dalloway, in how we handle some of our dialogue and party scenes in Castration Movie.”
- For the New York Times, Milana Mazaeva and Neil MacFarquhar profile Alexander Sokurov (Russian Ark), who won the Golden Lion in Venice for Faust (2011). Sokurov has been openly critical of Vladimir Putin and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, but for some exiled Russian artists, not critical enough. They managed to pressure the Venice Biennale to drop Sokurov from its list of guest speakers. “In many ways his fate is the fate of a talented loner,” Anton Dolin, a prominent Russian film critic living in exile, tells Mazaeva and MacFarquhar. “That explains both the cult around him and the hostility toward him. On the one hand, his films are banned in Russia. On the other hand, he remains highly respected and continues to participate in state councils and institutions.” And Sokurov, who turned seventy-five earlier this month, has no plans to leave the country: “I am sitting in this boat, and if it starts to sink, I will go down with it.”