Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Buster Keaton on the Big Screen in The General (1926)

The General (1926) has endured as one of Buster Keaton's greatest features, because it perfectly balances the wit and physical abilities of his stone-faced hero. Today a near capacity crowd enjoyed a 4K restoration at the Egyptian Theater, with a new symphonic score from Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi.

Keaton stars as a train engineer who loves his engine and his sweetheart Annabelle (Marion Mack) more than anything. When the Civil War begins, he rushes to be the first to enlist, but is rejected because the recruitment office believes he will be of more use to the war effort as an engineer. When a group of deserters steal his engine, The General, with Annabelle on board, he proves that to be very much the case.

Made in the last few years of Keaton's silent feature period, The General is one of his most elaborate productions. Full of dangerous stunts and long, complicated train sequences, it also had a huge cast of extras, and featured one of the most memorable scenes of the silent era: the spectacle of a train going across a burning bridge and plummeting into the water. Of course all of this was expensive to produce, and when box office returns were poor, Keaton lost his producing privileges. So in a way, this was the last time he was truly free to create for the big screen.

While College (1927) was a showcase for Keaton's athletic ability and The Cameraman (1928) displayed the comic's skill in devising gags, The General is the perfect combination of both. The film is essentially an extended chase scene, and Buster is in constant motion the entire time: climbing, dodging and running like a perpetual motion man. It's exhausting to watch him. In the midst of all this action are some of the most perfectly-timed of his gags--many of them amusing because of their wry look at human nature. Basically, you get the perfect demonstration of everything that makes Keaton a legend.

It was interesting to note how affectionate the laughter in the theater was as Keaton rushed to save the day. I've seen many silent comics on the big screen, including Chaplin and Lloyd, and they've always received a positive reception, but I felt more adoration from this crowd. You feel for Keaton, but he doesn't rely on pathos to evoke emotion like Chaplin and he doesn't seem like he might turn on you if you say the wrong thing like Lloyd. He appears truly loyal and decent. Add to that his impressive skills and wit, and it isn't surprising that he would inspire so much admiration.

Hisaishi's score is jaunty, properly patriotic and a bit corny, but pleasantly so. He relies heavily on familiar tunes and folk songs, like Dixie and The Teddy Bear Picnic to give the score a feeling of solid Americana.

It's hard to believe this is the last weekend of SIFF 2016. Ending the festival with a classic from the early years of cinema was the perfect way to close out the archival program.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: A Restoration Premiere of the Kung Fu Classic Dragon Inn (1967)

Dragon Inn (1967) is one of the first wuxia (Chinese martial arts) films; it's been a huge influence on the genre, having been remade two times. However, it is in only the past couple of years that it has been seen in Western theaters. For that reason it was especially thrilling that SIFF premiered the 4K restoration of the film at the Egyptian theater last night.

The best part of it all is that no one in the audience last night was thinking about history being made, or influential cinema. This thoroughly entertaining movie gripped the crowd, inspiring laughs, gasps and rapt attention. Made in Taiwan, director King Hu's follow up to the equally influential Come Drink With Me (1967) packs a lot of action, humor and tension into what is essentially a one-set film.

The action revolves around the children of General Yu, a leader who has been beheaded thanks to the efforts of the emperor's first eunuch, Tsao. His secret police attempt to take over the titular inn so that they may lie in wait of the escaping offspring, but they are stymied by the arrival of Hsiao, a skilled and clever martial arts fighter who has been hired by the Inn's owner (and General's ally) to stop the ambush. He is aided by equally an skilled duo of brother and sister fighters who through their father also had a connection to Yu. They team up to fight this devious gang and protect the children until they can find a safe haven.

While there is plenty of clever and well staged action in the inn scenes, it is the wit of Hsiao, and the increasingly desperate murder attempts by the secret police, that make them so entertaining. Sharp-eyed and always several steps ahead of everyone else, Hsiao is perpetually amused by the ineptness of those who try to stop him. This film could stand on its wit alone.

That said, the fight scenes in Dragon Inn are deservedly influential. They are balanced in mood: never relying too heavily on laughs, but avoiding the bleakness that can plague later entries in the genre, and well-paced thanks to the ritualistic, measured beats and sound effects that would define the genre. The tension of the longer sequences is beautifully heightened by a score that relies on repetition and well calibrated emotional cues to build suspense.

While I enjoy the more expansive scenery and slick fight scenes of later kung fu films, the more modestly staged Dragon Inn is in many ways a more satisfying film. Stuck inside an inn together for most of the film's running time, the characters are by necessity especially interesting and well-rounded. The exchange of wits is just important here as the exchange of blows. The result is that when a character dies, the audience sighs in disappointment, because he isn't just the guy in the blue head wrap; they've gotten to know him.

Once the action does move outside, the lushness of the scenery adds much to the film. These scenes were especially enhanced by the 4K restoration, which punched up the already vivid colors and had a beautiful velvety look to it.

I think these were the most appreciative audience members I've encountered at this year's festival. With a gorgeous restoration and timeless humor and action, I understood and shared their delight.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Dreamy Argentinean Noir in The Bitter Stems/Los Tallos Amargos (1956)

One of my greatest disappointments of TCM Classic Film Festival this year was that I could not get into the opening night screening of the Argentinean film noir The Bitter Stems/Los Tallos Amargos (1956). I was thrilled to have another chance to see this rescued film at a SIFF screening this afternoon.

Eddie Muller of the Film Noir Foundation introduced the film, and while I hear he can drive schedule-driven festival organizers mad with his long introductions, they're only lengthy because there is so much to be said about the films he presents. In this case, it was an especially fascinating story.

Essentially, Muller was enticed into traveling to Argentina, where he was treated to screenings of some of the locally-filmed classic noir gems. Intrigued by what he saw, he returned to the country on his next vacation with plans to restore and circulate some of these films.

The Bitter Stems was one such find. It was rescued from poor storage conditions at a remote family estate. Many of the other films found at this location were beyond repair. While Stems was in bad condition, it was salvageable. Though it was missing its soundtrack, a 16mm version of the film was available and its soundtrack was digitized and added to the restored print.

That's a very much condensed version of the film's restoration story. I think Muller could have spoken for another hour and the audience would have welcomed it. If you get the chance to see this passionate advocate for film preservation speak, make a point of seeing him. He has a lot of great stories to share and I always come away from his talks with fascinating new information.

The film stars Carlos Cores as Alfredo Gaspar, a journalist who gets roped into a seamy journalism correspondence course scheme by European immigrant Liudas (Vassili Lambrinos). Put in a distrustful state of mind by their shady business, Gaspar suspects his partner of giving him the same raw deal they're giving their customers. His suspicions cloud his judgement, and an ill-advised attempt at revenge derails his life.

It took me a while to get into Stems. I felt like it was going down a familiar path of betrayal and retaliation, and I began to get restless when I thought I had it all figured out. Then the story took a fascinating turn, which moved the plot in a surprising direction. It essentially takes the kind of misunderstanding that drives a typical screwball comedy and paints it in the bleakest terms.

Because of the way The Bitter Stems switches gears, the relationship that drives it at the beginning is suddenly torn down and built into something new. It's an unsettling scenario, because there's so much charm on the surface, and only one character can see how horrid the situation truly is. Living alone with that knowledge tortures him, and he goes mad in a fashion much like the man imagining the throbbing heart of the corpse below the floorboards in Edgar Allen Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart.

This print of The Bitter Stems was one of the only, if not only 35mm screenings of SIFF 2016. I have to admit that in the past I've never entirely appreciated the difference between film and digital. There was something about this screening that helped me to understand though. I think it helped that it was such a visually striking film, so that I was already drinking in the imagery with extra enthusiasm, but other than that, I don't know why it suddenly hit me how much better it was. I finally could see how warm the picture was compared to digital images, and how that bit of softness it emanates makes the images so much more sensual and inviting. It was an exciting revelation for me.

During the screening, I noticed some odd behavior from the audience that I took to be a bit of cultural discomfort. There were a few moments where the interactions between the characters, or the drama of the music drew scattered laughs; and it seemed mostly because the visual cues or the mood were slightly different from that of northern-based cinema. It made me think of the awkward laughter you sometimes hear at silent film screenings. It wasn't much of a distraction, but I thought it interesting how the slightest of differences from expected behavior can make an audience uneasy. It seems even people who love movies so much they'll go to Argentinean film noirs on a sunny day could benefit from expanding their cinematic vocabulary. And isn't that what makes SIFF so amazing in the first place?

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Chinese Silent All-Stars in The Big Road (1935)

Yan Jin the "Rudolph Valentino of Chinese Cinema"

As I walked up to the queue for The Big Road (1935), I heard a man ask, "Is this the line for Donald?" That's Donald Sosin, silent film accompanist and composer, and frequent guest of Seattle International Film Festival. It seems this talented musician has a bit of a following, and it is well deserved. For the first time, I wondered if I might get shut out of an archival screening as the line was held back for a quickly filling house.

This evening Sosin accompanied the screening of a Chinese classic that was most likely shown due to Richie Meyer, SIFF Board Member, Seattle University film professor and expert on Chinese cinema. Meyer introduced the film with a mini lecture about the political climate in which the film was made and the charismatic group of actors who starred. I think this was helpful to the audience. I didn't get the impression there were a lot of Chinese film experts there.

According to Meyer, The Big Road was shot in 1934-35 by a group of left wing progressives and Communists who wanted to protest the Japanese invasion of northeast China. As the airing of such opinions was dangerous, the filmmakers never directly name the enemy, instead making veiled, if obvious references.

Meyer then turned the spotlight on Sosin, challenging him to play snippets of music to go with whatever theme he named. This is a familiar shtick for anyone who has seen these two at a screening, and it's a great way to admire Sosin's skill at the keyboard before the movie begins and he essentially blends into the background. Meyer also introduced Dr. Malin Meyer, who would be translating the subtitles.

Li Lili reminded me a bit of Clara Bow

The story centers on six men and two women from a local eating house who befriend them. While the men struggle to build a road to transport troops, the women try to make their lives a bit happier and more comfortable. They have a hard, but relatively cheerful life until the Japanese capture the men, forcing the women to use their ingenuity to save them.

While the film was made silent, musical sequences were later added. These were charming interludes where the female and male stars take turns singing, and the audience was treated to the film's soundtrack for the songs while Sosin paused. They would have been a bit more charming without Malin translating over the songs, but it was interesting to know what they were saying, and I couldn't think of a better way to meld the two together.

It's easy to see why this group of actors was beloved in China. While a lot can be lost in translation, there's no denying the charisma of these dynamic people. Yan Jin (apparently known as the "Chinese Rudolph Valentino") and Li Lili (the "Chinese Mae West," though she reminded me more of Clara Bow) are particular standouts, both of them funny, gorgeous and a little off-kilter the way a truly relatable star must be. 

There's a nude swimming scene with the six men, where you only get glimpses of the really naughty bits, but I couldn't help but think it was put in there to show all those attractive stars to full advantage. Quite a shocker for 1935!

I also recognized Langen Han as the hapless brother from The Song of the Fisherman, which Meyer and Sosin presented at SIFF 2014. Meant to be comic relief, he was one of the few members of the cast who weren't ridiculously beautiful, and he got teased so much that I began to feel bad for him!

The Big Road makes a lot of sweeping emotional shifts, something I've come to recognize in Chinese cinema. One minute everyone is happy and laughing, the next there's a war plane mowing down innocent workers. It's jarring fatalism with a darkness that is in direct contrast to the Hollywood happy ending. Sometimes it feels like it is an honest reflection of reality, but I sometimes wonder if Chinese filmmakers and audiences almost found joy in everyone being destroyed so they could have big dramatic moments.

Sosin managed all those tonal shifts with ease. He is the most relaxed silent film accompanist I've seen perform, always alert and on point, but also seemingly completely confident and at ease. This is the fourth time I have seen him perform. I sat a couple of rows behind him, mostly because there simply weren't any other seats left, but it ended up being really interesting to see him at work, melding a truly creative performance (at one point he even yelled to punctuate a dramatic moment) with great precision work.

This was such a beautifully-executed presentation: a great film, strong narration, wonderful music and a little film history lesson to tie it all together. I hope to enjoy more Chinese films at SIFF in the future.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Technicolor Gene Tierney in Heaven Can Wait (1943)

Saturday at the Egyptian Theater, watching Lubitsch on the big screen, turning into an icicle. It really happened.

As we waited in line for a SIFF screening of Heaven Can Wait (1943), we were warned by a festival employee that the air conditioning in the Egyptian had been stuck on all night, and it was a bit chilly inside. However, he also told us that complimentary tea and coffee were available to help ward off the cold. A classy move.

The lady behind me was loaded up with a pillow and blanket, all ready to settle in for five hours of films, so she at least came prepared. She told me that getting ready for a long day at SIFF felt like packing for a camping trip. That's a good comparison, because both things have the same effect on your back. It actually didn't end up being much colder than usual.

Though I've seen and essentially enjoyed it a few times over the years, Heaven Can Wait has always been a problematic movie for me. Directed by Ernst Lubitsch, and written by the filmmaker's frequent screenwriter Sam Raphaelson, it has the sexy sparkle and sharp wit of his best films, though not quite as much as his pre-code romps. It also has a fantastic supporting cast, with Charles Coburn, Eugene Pallette, Marjorie Main and Gene Tierney doing some of their best work. My problem, aside from this being a post-code Lubitsch is that I don't like star Don Ameche and I like his character here even less.

The whole concept of this comedy is that Ameche's character, Henry Van Cleve is an imperfect person, but still worthy of entry into heaven. By the end of this screening, I think there were some audience members who still didn't believe he was ready for the pearly gates. I certainly wondered what he had done to redeem himself. Compounding the problem is that Ameche has always struck me as this kind of person in other movies as well: some cad who has it coming to him.

So my approach to this film is to treat Ameche like a talking movie audience member who won't be shushed, I feel tense about him, but I don't let him ruin things for me.

Heaven Can Wait follows Henry from babyhood to death. From the beginning he charms the ladies, and his flirtations with and mistreatment of them are the central pursuit of his life. As a baby his doting mother (Spring Byington) and grandmother (Clara Blandick) fight over him as he gazes up from the cradle. In the pre-teen years, he buys female attention with boxes of beetles. As a teen, he charms his mother's French maid (Signe Hasso) and gets drunk with her in a nightclub.

By the time Henry reaches adulthood, he has advanced to stealing his uptight cousin's (Allyn Joslyn) fiancée, Martha Strabel (Gene Tierney). It shouldn't come as a surprise, but is nevertheless disappointing that he isn't faithful to Martha. Never mind whether or not he should get into heaven, the dear lady should have kicked him to the curb. To make matters worse, when she enters the senior years, she is stuck with a hairdo that looks like an animal trying to eat her head. Even Gene Tierney isn't beautiful enough to overcome that, though she comes close.

With a man like that in the lead, the supporting cast must provide compensation, and it does. Charles Coburn is Henry's mischievous grandfather, and ironically is one of the most loveable characters, despite the fact that he must have been just as much of a cad as his grandson in his day. Eugene Pallette and Marjorie Main play their familiar types with gusto as Martha's strict, but warm-hearted parents. I love Gene Tierney, and would watch her in anything, but I have to admit I didn't previously give her enough credit for her comedy chops in this movie. While she is often stuck in the unrewarding disapproving wife role, she has some comic exchanges that she handles with great skill.

I also love that continuing Lubitsch/Raphaelson tradition of putting the spotlight on the servants. It makes sense to focus some attention on the help; imagine the things they have seen and the talent it must take to manage their employers. In this case there are two fascinating characters: the Van Cleve's butler Fogdell, who reacts with subtle amusement and occasional delight to the dramas of the family and the very amusing Clarence Muse as Jasper, the Strabel's patient and diplomatic servant, who clearly understands the delicate nature of his employees' marriage.

In his small part as the Devil, Laird Cregar deserves special mention. He plays the evil delight of his character perfectly; wide-eyed with amusement from learning all the dirt about his potential residents. Cregar even has the right look for the role: sort of handsome, sort of repellant and definitely dangerous looking.

As much as I dislike Ameche, all these characters, and the sharp wit of the script kept me grinning. You know you've been watching a Lubitsch when your face is sore, but you don't remember any belly laughs. This is a sly sort of humor that gets under your skin.

The film was a digital presentation of a new restoration by the 20th Century Fox, the Academy Film Archive, and The Film Foundation. While I found it beautiful overall, I was especially impressed by how vivid the colors were in the restored version. It's already such a brightly colored film, and in this presentation all those reds and blues really popped. There's also few leading ladies who can make a movie audience collectively hold its breath during a close-up like Gene Tierney does. She was made for Technicolor.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Orson Welles in Falstaff/ Chimes at Midnight (1965)

It's almost comforting to watch Orson Welles play the title character in Falstaff/ Chimes at Midnight (1965), because he seems so happily at home. The director called it his favorite film, a sentiment that wasn't shared by critics upon its release, but which has changed in the years since. In a new restoration, it is possible to fully appreciate the beauty and madness of Welles' passion project.

The concept for the film began as the 1939 stage play Five Kings, which was written by Welles. He drew parts from Shakespeare's Richard III and Henry IV, V, and VI into one show. That first try was a disaster, as was a 1960 revival, but Orson was determined to produce this ultimate expression of his love for Shakespeare, and his favorite character Sir John Falstaff. Long scorned by Hollywood, he managed to cobble together a Spanish/Swiss production. Given the battle it took to fund and film it's astonishing how beautifully-executed and powerfully acted it is.

Welles had a great sense for how the language of Shakespeare should be presented, alternating between busy tableaux with lots of movement and chatter and the stillness of quiet monologue. He sets his more populated scenes in impeccably designed surroundings, all worn beams and hanging bunches of herbs. He stages extras high and low, and deep in the frame, always keeping the visuals lively. The monologues are stark by comparison, shot in intimate close-ups, with moody lighting reminiscent of an alley scene in a film noir.

As Henry IV, John Gielgud gets the best of that one-on-one attention. I don't think I fully appreciated this actor before I saw him here. Finally I understand how mesmerizing he could be. Though he speaks with passion, there's never the feeling that he is out of control. Even a shot of the back of his neck can bring chills, as you realize his every movement is shot through with power, but carefully calibrated. When he's onscreen, it's impossible to look away.

Playing son of Henry IV Prince Hal, Welsh actor Keith Baxter looks a bit like Anthony Perkins, even possessing some of his youthful tension, which works well for the conflicted character. He shifts believably from playboy cad to imposing royal. You can see the threads of his past within him though; he is never quite to be trusted.

This is essentially a man's world on display, so Jeanne Moreau has little to do as Doll Tearsheet. She doesn't need much to command attention though. In a role like this, you wonder how much further she could have gone as an actress in English language productions.

While I was blindsided by Gielgud, this film is still essentially Welles' playground. He somewhat tamps down the humorous aspects of Falstaff, but there's always a bit of a twinkle to him. It is clear that the character is home to him, the role for which he has the most affection. When looking at his enormous size, it's hard to believe the actor actually had to lose weight to play the part.

Juxtaposed with the alternating merry and elegant tone of the rest of the film, an extended battle scene comes as a bit of a shock. It is shot to show the chaos of war as it directly affects the bodies of soldiers. The charging motion of arms and legs are set off against bodies submerged in mud, and larger vistas are abruptly switched to close-ups of gushing wounds and falling men. It's a bloody spectacle in the midst of another, more civilized demonstration, but you sense the same game is being played.

Chimes at Midnight will return to SIFF Cinemas for a regular engagement once the festival is over. It's well worth a watch for fans of Shakespeare on film and the featured actors. For Welles lovers it's a must see.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: George Sanders Steals Everything in A Scandal in Paris (1946)

This past Sunday, while Captain America boomed away in the next theater, a near-capacity crowd enjoyed George Sanders being his slippery best in Douglas Sirk's A Scandal in Paris (1946). It felt like a minor victory that a small part of Pacific Place Theaters was given to such an unusual classic.

Long one of my favorite films, I thought this was an interesting choice for the festival. A film starring a character actor most famous for playing villains in one of his rare starring roles, and helmed by a director most famous for mid-century melodramas with vivid hues and heartbreaking plot twists, is just the sort of treasure you hope to discover at a film festival.

Set in 18th-century France, it is a loosely-adapted biography of a thief who went by the name Eugène François Vidocq, and had a long career in crime before he switched sides and became a criminologist (in the film he becomes the Parisian chief of police). Here he is accompanied by his accomplice Emile, played by Akim Tamiroff with a magnificent monobrow, troll's face and the twinkling, long-lashed eyes of a pretty girl.

Vidocq is born in prison, and continues to spend his youth there, honing his skill as a thief and increasing his prospects with each attempt. When he agrees to pose for a portrait with Tamiroff, astride a horse dressed as St. George, while his pal plays the dragon, he unknowingly consents to a sort of police sketch. Though he takes off with the steed, the excellent likeness painted by a priest comes back to haunt him.

Until then, he steals jeweled garters while seducing ladies in carriages and gains invitations to country estates where he can clean out the family jewels while enjoying the luxuries of his gullible hosts. He falls for one of his victims though, the seemingly innocent Therese (Signe Hasso) who is the daughter of his host, the police minister (Alan Napier).

At first, Vidocq is enchanted by Therese's placid beauty. He slips into her room at night to kiss her cheek, a moment which she later remembers. She also sees his resemblance in the St. George portrait and with a little detective work begins to understand this handsome stranger. His adoration changes to respect when he realize the object of his affection is smarter than he is.

Playing a sexier, more outrageous counterpart to Therese is Carole Landis, as showgirl and gold-digger Loretta, who fascinates Vidocq as much as she arouses his need to steal. The actress would make only a few more films before she committed suicide in 1948. Here she is at her best, and demonstrates a unique combination of beauty and comic ability too quickly lost to the world. I like to think she would have been a great sitcom star.

A jumbled cast of wry and hapless characters supports Sanders and his ladies. While I could be content gazing at Sanders and Landis for an entire film, this group is one of the great pleasures of the film.

I especially liked Emile's criminal family, who all have fascinatingly bizarre, bushy-eyebrowed faces that look like they were molded out of clay. The visages of Cousin Pierre (Skelton Knaggs), Cousin Gabriel (Fred Nurney) and Aunt Ernestine (Gisella Werbisek), not to mention Emile, would not be out of place in a horror film. And yet, there's something loveable about them all; they are so determined and diligent in their larceny.

Also intriguing is the child actress Jo Ann Marlowe as Therese's pre-teen sister Mimi. There's no cuteness in this sophisticated and charming performer, she has some of the sharpest lines and she bites into them with precocious delight. You know that when this kid grows up she's going to subvert the restrictions of 18th-century society to her own desires. As her high-living marquise grandmother, Alma Krueger perhaps provides a glimpse into the girl's future.

The story is played lightly, with wry humor, intrigue and tantalizing romance. I always wonder if I'm reading more sex into it than is intended. There's something so erotic about the way Therese caresses a rose with increasing intensity while attempting to seem casual as she discusses her possible sins with a country priest. It also seems like an unmistakably vaginal shape that opens in a paper screen that Loretta sets aflame during her act, before she steps through it to go flirt with the men in the audience.

Of course, I could just be reacting to the sensual gaze of Sanders, which seems to mesmerize both the male and female members of his circle. He is such an appealing romantic lead, a little dangerous, but not so intimidating that you fear for his conquests. He is a gentleman cad and you want them to sample the excitement he offers.

All the romanticism, innocence and violence of the story are nicely symbolized by an early version of a merry-go-round run by pulleys, which is the setting for some of Vidocq's most intense moments. The trilling, but sly musical theme for these scenes ties them together smoothly, setting the stage for a delightfully sophisticated conclusion.

I thought this was a wonderfully unusual choice for the festival. It was a perfect Sunday movie.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Frank Conniff and Trace Beaulieu of MST3K Riff on Glen or Glenda (1953)

SIFF staffers sent MST3K superfan Jeffery to the front of the line when they saw his Tom Servo robot

I started Seattle International Film Festival 2016 with a bang, watching a midnight screening at the SIFF Egyptian Theater. And I can't think of a better time to watch Mystery Science Theater 3000 legends Frank Conniff (TV's Frank) and Trace Beaulieu (Crow T. Robot) doing what they do best, riff on bad movies. I mean, I actually associate Trace Beaulieu's voice with late nights watching MST3K when I couldn't get to sleep after going out. It was almost touching to be mere feet away from him, hearing his familiar, comforting, wise ass comments.

The pair chose Ed Wood Jr's nearly incomprehensible Glen or Glenda (1953) and the hilarious and frightening dating advice short More Dates for Kay (1952). Both movies were odd enough to inspire laughs on their own, but they would have been unbearable without these two weighing in. As it is, there were people in the audience laughing so hard they were choking.

Beaulieu and Conniff sat to the right of the screen, with their faces slightly illuminated. It was pretty amusing to have the rare chance to actually see what they look like when they make all those comments. It was weird though, just like live accompaniment for silent movies I got used to them being there and eventually forgot to look over.

Beaulieu and Conniff between films

I know these guys plan and practice for a performance, but they somehow make it seem like they're making it all up as they go along. It was amazing how closely they matched the spirit and tone of MST3K. Of course, they did take advantage of the freedom to be a lot raunchier. Makes you wonder want an uncensored version of the TV series would have been like.

The pair made much of the fact that More Dates for Kay (1952) essentially encouraged mid-century teenagers to stalk men. Apparently desperation, manipulation and a total lack of self-respect were A-Okay back in the day if it meant finding a boyfriend.

Then began the utter confusion of Glen or Glenda, the kind of movie that makes you feel like you've fallen asleep for a few minutes, even though you've been unable to tear your eyes away. Somewhere inside this 68 minute movie, there's a five minute film about a man who struggles with transvestism in an age where men in female clothes could face arrest.

@IngyandMillie wore Tom Servo and Crow earrings

To pad out the wispy storyline there are long passages of Bela Lugosi squinting and making people appear and disappear, extended shots of cars rushing down the freeway--supposedly to represent the masses of ordinary, non-transvestite people, an endless dream sequence featuring a lady rocking on a sideways couch, and a jauntily-scored series of S&M scenarios with ladies writhing on a couch that looks like it was found on the curb and fighting off rape from what looks like the devil. That last part made me ask out loud if I'd been sleeping.

Glen or Glenda is full of scenes that start, but never quite end. For some reason it has a lot of people waving their hands around at different times. Wood seemed to think that hands were the key to good drama. I watch and enjoy a lot of so-called bad movies, so I thought I was pretty strong, but this one hurt my brain.

Basically, these guys chose wisely; this movie was crazy, and I never would have made it through without them. I usually can't help drifting off a bit at midnight screenings, but this time I stayed wide awake, and laughed the whole time. A great start to SIFF 2016.

Seattle International Film Festival 2016: Picks for Classic Movie Fans

I've barely gotten caught up on sleep (or posts...) after attending the TCM Classic Film Festival this past week, but I am already so excited to cover the Seattle International Film Festival for the fourth year. This year's event will gobble up my calendar space from May 19 to June 12. 

I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it: I am so proud of our diverse, adventurous and enormously popular hometown festival. 

Here are some of my picks for classic film fans, most of which I plan to attend:

I'm a big fan of silent film accompanist Donald Sosin. He impressed me with his skill and creativity accompanying Cave of the Spiderwoman (1927) at the 2015 festival and both a program of Chaplin shorts and the Chinese classic, Song of the Fisherman (1934) in 2014. This year he will perform for The Big Road (1935), another Chinese film which features several of the country's most famous film stars of the day. 
Tuesday May 31 11:00 AM SIFF Uptown Theater

Though I adore Buster Keaton, I've never seen him on the big screen. What better way to remedy that than with a 4K restoration of The General (1926)? I'm also curious to hear the symphonic score which was composed by Studio Ghibli composer Joe Hisaishi. 
Saturday June 11 11:00 AM SIFF Cinema Egyptian

I have wanted to see Orson Welles' Chimes at Midnight (1966) for years. This Shakespearean mash-up will be presented with a newly-restored print.
Tuesday May 24 7:00 PM SIFF Cinema Egyptian

Though I don't often write about it here, I love a good Kung Fu flick, and Dragon Inn (1967) is one of the most influential. This 4K widescreen restoration is directed by King Hu, who helmed the entertaining and also highly influential Come Drink With Me (1966).
Wednesday June 8 7:00 PM SIFF Cinema Egyptian

This one gave me heart flutters: George Sanders in his sexiest role as what else? a charming cad, Carole Landis in one of her best films and director Douglas Sirk before he embraced glossy, Technicolor melodramas. A Scandal in Paris (1946) is one of my most anticipated films of the festival.
Sunday May 22 1:30 PM Pacific Place Cinemas

One of my greatest regrets of the TCM Classic Film Festival this year was that I was not able to get into a packed screening of the Argentinean film noir The Bitter Stems/Los Tallos Amargos (1956). I couldn't believe my luck when it popped up on the schedule. Though I hear it didn't rock anybody's world at TCMFF, it apparently offers some solid thrills and a few great twists. This 35mm restoration will be introduced by Eddie Mueller of the Film Noir Foundation.
Saturday June 4 2:00 PM SIFF Cinema Egyptian

Ernst Lubitsch, Gene Tierney in luscious color, Laird Cregar as the Devil: Heaven Can Wait (1943) is going to be a great experience.  
Saturday May 28 11:00 AM SIFF Cinema Egyptian


I'm also considering a pair of late night movies:

Rambu: The Intruder (1986), which appears to be the Indonesian version of Rambo, looks amazing. The comedy team Wolf Choir will be there to present "a unique interactive blend of live comedy and high-stakes bingo." High-stakes bingo at a Midnight movie? Couldn't possibly be dull. Don't know if I'll write that one up here if I see it, but you'll get my review on Twitter.
Saturday June 4 11:00 PM SIFF Cinema Egyptian

I'm also very excited that Mystery Science Theater 3000 mad scientists Frank Conniff and Trace Beaulieu will be live riffing on Ed Wood's Glen or Glenda (1953). This is definitely the can't miss event of the festival for me.
Saturday May 21 11:55 AM SIFF Cinema Egyptian

The full SIFF film guide can be found here.