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5/30/2019

Event Recap: TRUE STORIES (1986)/Stephen Tobolowsky Q&A @ The Frida Cinema, Santa Ana 4/24/19

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The line to meet Stephen Tobolowsky.
It crept up on us, but Los Angeles Arts Society's June 7th screening of Shin Godzilla at The Frida Cinema is now barely a week away! As such, we've been busy with organizing and promoting it before that Friday comes rolling around, but I've still made time to reflect on True Stories, the subject of our last event.

The first and only feature-length film to be directed by Talking Heads frontman David Byrne, it's about as different from Shin Godzilla as you can get. With quirky narration, gentle humor, and a rocking soundtrack, it was screaming for the LA Arts Society treatment, and as part of that treatment, we were able to get an amazing guest to talk about it. No less than Stephen Tobolowsky, the film's screenwriter and a veteran actor best known as Ned "Needle Nose" Ryerson from Groundhog Day, came on out to talk about the film as well as sign copies of his new book My Adventures with God and merchandise afterwards. It was exciting enough that we scored such a high-profile guest, but it was downright thrilling when it turned out that our excitement percolated over to our guests as well!

We ended up with around 70 people for the event, which, while maybe not exactly The Beatles playing Shea Stadium (or Talking Heads playing Pantages Theatre, to stay more on message), is pretty impressive for a Wednesday night. Going in, my partner Alex and I were a bit worried when Stephen first asked for that specific date, as we figured most people wouldn’t be inclined to come out on a weeknight for a film as unconventional as True Stories. But it turned out to be a risk well worth taking, as we brought in what had to be the biggest crowd at the Frida on a Wednesday in some time.


Given several guests’ comments that watching it was a staple of their childhood, it’s safe to say that we underestimated the cult appeal of True Stories. While roughly half the crowd was made up of veteran Talking Heads fans who were pretty familiar with both the movie and David Byrne, the other half was curious, younger people ready to learn about the film and the eccentric musician who directed it. This neat mix of the initiated and the uninitiated was perfectly illustrated by two of our guests, a son who heard about our event and invited his Talking Heads-loving dad to join him. One might say that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to bring different kinds of people together!

In contrast to Godzilla, I actually got to see a decent chunk of what we were playing. I stepped in to see the intro and had to tear myself away before I ended up watching the whole film. I had already seen the movie twice, but there was simply no way that could prepare me for seeing and hearing the combination of Byrne’s voice, Meredith Monk’s “Road Song”, and the intro’s stock footage on the big screen. I was also lucky enough to catch the “Hey Now” scene, which remained just as enigmatically endearing as when I first saw it. The audience’s reaction - or lack thereof, rather - added to the beauty of the moment, with their rapt silence as the song and scene came and went underscoring the singular wonder it evoked. 

As far as prints go, the DCP we used looked superb. The video had a very crisp appearance and the colors popped where they needed to. Lest anyone question my objectivity on the matter, I wasn’t the only one who was impressed by the quality of the print: when Stephen first entered the theater to check the movie out, he came out saying that it looked better than the print he saw at a recent screening in San Francisco. By remarkable coincidence, Ed Godziszewski (one of our guests at our Godzilla screening) made a similar remark about the print we used for that film, making this the second time a guest has favorably compared the quality of our movie prints to those they had seen at other events.

Speaking of Stephen, he and his wife Ann arrived a bit after the film started, but this turned out to be for the best. With our 70-strong crowd already inside the theater, it gave our guests time to set up and get situated in peace. Stephen was positively awe-struck by the Frida, taking off to admire the wall mural and explore. What surprised me most however was how much he enjoyed the movie, with him disappearing inside the theater to watch it throughout the night. I kind of just figured that he had watched and been asked about it so many times that he never wanted to see it again. Instead, he was completely captivated by it, explaining that watching it again took him back to all the places and memories he got to see and experience while working on it. ​
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Stephen sharing a story with me and the audience after the movie.
This enthusiasm carried right over into the Q&A, and thank goodness too! Even though I prepared my questions in advance, I was still nervous about the prospect of interviewing “Needle Nose” Ned himself before a live audience. Thankfully though, he went right into the story of how he met David Byrne when I asked him how he got involved with True Stories, which led into the story of how the song “Radiohead” was inspired by him telling Byrne of his past experiences hearing “tones” (that is, psychic vibrations that he claimed would reveal information about people he met.) 

It was at this point that I realized it was going to be an easy Q&A session for me: Stephen was a seasoned storyteller and more than capable of keeping the show rolling. Like I did with Manny Pacheco at our Forgotten Hollywood event, I could simply throw a question out when Stephen (rarely, mind you) ran out of steam and it would send him chugging right along again. I even ended up ceding moderating duties for a good chunk of the program, allowing him to call on people since he seemed to be able to spot them faster than I could.

His other projects like Californication, Memento, and yes, Groundhog Day all came up, but people were especially interested in hearing about the tones. One guest asked if he ever read tones for David Byrne, Bill Murray, and Christopher Nolan, to which he replied no and added that he was afraid to imagine what Byrne’s tones would say. Interestingly, the band's bassist Tina Weymouth once claimed that psychic friends of hers used to say that they couldn’t read Byrne due to a “firewall” around him. Perhaps we can put them in touch with Stephen and then they can exchange notes about the mystery that is the mind of David Byrne.

The signing was a quick but happy affair. Although I was excited about getting the chance to have Stephen sign my copy of his first book, The Dangerous Animals Club, I found myself worrying again that the crowd might not share my excitement since his books and other merchandise weren’t directly related to True Stories. Yet, once again, these worries turned out to be unfounded since the crowd assembled themselves into a line as they exited the theater and eagerly awaited their turn with our guest of honor. People bought books, DVDs of his live performances, and even took selfies with him. What really stood out to me however was the sheer joy that our guests exuded as they met and chatted with Stephen, a sentiment that he reciprocated heartily and honestly.
PictureOur True Stories family: Stephen and Ann with us and the volunteers that made it happen.
I wouldn't call it an intimate event like Forgotten Hollywood (indeed, it would be hard to with as many people as we had), but there was an overall warmth that made it a very memorable night. The film's strangely sentimental weirdness, Stephen's frank but funny storytelling, and the crowd's enthusiastic appreciation for both made it feel like we were one big happy family enjoying an evening together.

On that note, I would like to thank the members of our True Stories family: everyone who came out for this event, all the volunteers who made it happen, and Alex for helping coordinate and direct it. Additionally, I would like to extend a very special thanks to Stephen and Ann for spending the night with us as well as the Frida for once again providing us with an excellent space for these kind of programs. With Shin Godzilla coming right up, LA Arts Society is sure to be in for another wild, wild night like this one!

Photos by Alex Martinez, Reggie Peralta, and Cecilia Peralta

The views expressed in this recap are those of the author’s and not necessarily the views of LA Arts Society. For more recaps, reviews, events, and other news from LA Arts Society, sign up for our newsletter and follow us on Facebook and Instagram. If you’d like to book an event, volunteer with LA Arts Society, or have any other questions, feel free to reach us on our Contact page​
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​REGGIE PERALTA
Creative Director, Los Angeles Arts society

Reggie is a writer and podcaster with an eclectic range of interests. Whether it’s movies, books, theatre, or music, chances are he has something to say about it and as Creative Director of LA Arts Society, he’s in a place to bring them all together. He has written for such sites and outlets as The Frida Cinema, Orange County’s 1888 Center, FilmBook, and HonorSociety.org, and he currently works as an audio engineer for the podcasts Love University and Ordinary Grace. With his experience and a passion for written and spoken word alike, Reggie is excited to flex his creative muscles and help others flex theirs.

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5/8/2019

FILM REVIEW: SUSPIRIA (2018)

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REGGIE PERALTA
Creative Director - Los Angeles Arts Society

Please be advised that the following review contains spoilers.

When I heard that Suspiria was not only being remade but that it was to be directed by Luca Guadagnino, my gut reaction was tepid at best. I had seen the original by Dario Argento, and while I enjoyed it (enough to see it three times, for what it’s worth) I didn’t find myself enchanted by it the way many of my friends who had seen it were. As for Guadagnino, my knowledge of his work was limited to Call Me By Your Name, a movie that all the very serious people with all the correct opinions about everything told me I was supposed to adore but did not. Thus, it came as a welcome surprise that I found as much of value in Guadagnino’s take on the goofy giallo as I did.

The original Suspiria, as weird as it is, is a simple story about a girl who finds herself wrapped up in a coven of witches. Guadagnino’s Suspiria, on the other hand, is a sprawling story that touches on factional intrigue between said witches, psychiatrist Dr. Klemperer’s efforts to get to the bottom of his patient Patricia’s (Chloe Grace Moretz) disappearance, and newcomer Susie’s (Dakota Johnson) own mysterious role in all this. This makes it hard to determine what’s important and what’s not at first, but if you stay focused as time goes on it all gels together. The expanding on the film’s original set-up is also welcome, with the idea that dances are actually the vehicle through which the witches realize their dark arts justifying the story’s being set in a dance academy.

Another major improvement over the original is that the remake is actually unsettling. This is accomplished in large part by the effective use of camerawork, as seen in the scenes where the girls dance and people die. The attack on Olga (Elena Fokina) is especially brutal, with her being twisted horrifically out of shape as Susie, none the wiser, performs the incredibly difficult dance that cripples her. The cutting between the one and the other really captures the violence of the scene and reminds us just how much physicality goes into dancing. Then there is an extreme close-up that completely focuses on an instructor’s face, obscuring everything else in the shot. It’s an intrusive effect that is further amplified by the inexplicably creepy expression on her face.

The cast is good all around (the fact that the actors are actually speaking the lines coming out of their mouths does wonders for the film’s quality), but there is no doubt who the movie’s all about. Tilda Swinton commands attention throughout the film, bringing Mme. Blanc to life in a way that the original didn’t. She’s the main witch in charge, but she has qualms about how her sisters practice their craft and struggles to find a balance between their wicked ways and her desire to establish a kinder, gentler coven. Blanc also has to juggle her institutional responsibilities with her fondness for Susie, with Swinton really selling the character as a mother figure in a way that Joan Bennett never attempted to in the original.

The only other character who comes close to being as interesting is Dr. Klemperer, who is also played by Tilda Swinton! Through the judicious use of prosthetics, Swinton is transformed from her usual graceful self into the elderly psychoanalyst, a cosmetic feat that stands out all the more in an age of computer-generated effects. Wracked with guilt over pooh-poohing Patricia’s warnings about the witches as well as abandoning his wife during the war, Klemperer spends the movie trying to make amends and, as such, is the closest thing the story has to a morally sound character. As one of the few characters who is not a witch, this also makes him a suitable person for the audience to identify with.

Swinton also dons prosthetics to play Helena Markos, the ancient witch who wants the coven to become totally corrupt. Whereas both Blanc and Klemperer are fully rounded characters, Markos hews to a similar track as her depiction in the original film and gets little in the way of character development. We don’t even get to see much of Swinton in this role, but perhaps it’s for the best as the shock value of the Markos make-up (as grotesque as the Klemperer prosthetics are convincing) would almost certainly have worn-off if she spent more time on-screen in this role. Interestingly, Swinton’s portrayal of Markos along with her two other roles means that she forms a sort of moral spectrum. While Klemperer, with his regrets and resolve, is the high or humane end of it, the irredeemably evil Markos is the base, low end. This leaves Mme. Blanc as the center or neutral ground of said spectrum, a placement that reflects her conflicting obligations and morally gray approach to the affairs of the academy.

Just as it did in the 70’s-era Europe it's set in, the specter of left-wing terrorism looms over Suspiria. Indeed, the very first words spoken in the film are “Free Baader! Free Meinhof,” referring to the leaders of the radical Red Army Faction. Graffiti pledging allegiance to various Marxist groups and solidarity with the Palestinians adorns walls and buildings. Over the course of the movie, we are updated in bits and pieces as to the status of the infamous hijacking of the German airliner Lufthansa Flight 181, finally culminating in archival news footage that shows the aftermath of the authorities storming the plane and rescuing all the hostages.

What’s the significance of all this? Why does Guadagnino allocate so much time and space to these subversive happenings that have little bearing on the plot and were not so much as alluded to in Argento’s original? The answer, it would appear, is to draw parallels between the revolutionary violence of these extremists and the malefic violence of the witches. It’s a nebulous relationship that’s not developed nearly as much as it should have been, but it’s an intriguing one nevertheless that, if you look closely, you can see hints of throughout the film.

When the students go to sleep, the instructors and staff convene and bicker about the direction of their coven, perhaps mirroring the clandestine cells that members of the RAF and other far-left groups met in (to say nothing of the in-fighting that such organizations were notorious for.) Similarly, the decision to devote a whole scene to the liberation of Lufthansa 181 is bewildering if taken solely at face value. But, if taken as a hint at the comeuppance that awaits Markos and her loyalists, the sequence is then embedded with new narrative significance. On top of that, the identification of the plane hijackers with the antagonists tells us where they fall into the film’s moral universe and, thus, how we are to receive them and their politics.

Another clue that supports this reading of the film is the fact that the hooks the witches use on Olga and others resemble sickles. The sickle, of course, is one half of the international symbol of communism, representing solidarity and utopia to its adherents and misery and mass murder to most everyone else. When you look at it this way, it makes sense why Guadagnino (who, it should be noted, grew up as the leftist Red Brigades carried out similar acts of revolutionary terror across his native Italy) might have seen similarities between the scheming sorceresses of his movie and the scheming socialists of the real world.

In this context, it makes sense to compare Suspiria not to the original (or Argento’s other films, for that matter) but rather to Olivier Assayas’ Carlos. Set around the same time as the French miniseries, one gets a feel for the era from both productions even as they take different tacks towards it. Whereas Carlos finds much of interest and (arguably) beauty in its insurrection-minded protagonists (as seen in the way it lovingly bathes them in bright lights and a fuller color palette, to say nothing of its dangerously hip soundtrack) and their antics, Suspiria handles the background noise of its revolutionaries with the same drab lighting, dull colors, and melancholic music (composed and produced by Radiohead’s Thom Yorke, of all people) that it accords most everything else. The resulting impression is one of jaded realism, underlining the futility of the terrorists’ actions and highlighting the gulf between the high-minded goals and rhetoric they espoused and the bloodshed and havoc they wrought in both the movie and reality.

It doesn’t flesh out its themes and villains as fully as it could have, but even so the movie is able to say a bit of import. As dilettantish social commentary and radical chic seep their way into today’s movies, Guadagnino offers an admirably measured approach to his story and its political subtext. More ambitious and more astute than the production that inspired it, the remake also proves to be more disturbing thanks to its inventive expansion of Argento’s original ideas and set-up. True, many may prefer the camp aesthetics of the original, but Guadagnino’s Suspiria achieves so much more through its efforts to make viewers think as much as it makes them feel.

The views expressed in this review are those of the author and not necessarily the views of LA Arts Society. Let us know what you think of this review in the comments section below. For more reviews, recaps, events, and other news from LA Arts Society, sign up for our newsletter and follow us on Facebook and Instagram. If you’d like to book an event, volunteer with LA Arts Society, or have any other questions, feel free to reach us on our Contact page.

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