RM Movie Club #3: American Movie

[Rangi Guy]

Got 48 minutes in and couldn't do any more

how does this compare to the previous 2 film club selections for you?

I really enjoyed the first two films. This one just didn't resonate with me on any level unfortunately

[WtOB?]

i had never seen or heard of this. thanks guys it was great.

[Simple Torture]

I've been a very, very bad OP in this thread--it's been up for a week and a half now, and I really have barely scratched the surface when it comes to my thoughts on this film. It's been a rough week, but I want to try and get a little bit out about it now, and then maybe throw in a couple more thoughts over the next few days. Please feel free to respond; if you don't, I'm happy to just let this thread stand as a monument to my wandering thougts.

Not many people read Moby-Dick anymore, and I totally understand why: there are entire chapters dedicated to the different classifications of whales (many of which are far out of date now, referring to the magnificient mammals as "fish"). But it's heartening to see, over and over again, how little bits of the novel have seeped into our cultural consciousness. The one phrase that you'll hear more than any other is, of course, the words "white whale." When used today, it's most frequently related to an object of desire that frequently falls just outside of a seeker's reach. I collect vinyl LPs, and you'll frequently hear someone describe their "white whale" record: "Aw, man, I nearly got my white whale after years of trying, but somebody outbid me on eBay at the last minute!" You'll hear it in all walks of lifes and in different contexts, and even if someone doesn't know it's from Moby-Dick, they probably get the general gist of it. And that's...fine. That's fine. I didn't come here to get all preachy or to debate the way that language drift happens and words change meaning, so I'd never mansplain to someone in casual conversation if they used the term "white whale." But here it goes: well, actually, the symbolic meaning behind the white whale in Moby-Dick goes much further than the idea that Ahab "really wanted to catch him." The whiteness of the whale is commented upon at great length, and its resonance is supposed to be terrifying, not comforting. In Chapter 42, Ishmael writes:

Spoiler: show

But not yet have we solved the incantation of this whiteness, and learned why it appeals with such power to the soul; and more strange and far more portentous - why, as we have seen, it is at once the most meaning symbol of spiritual things, nay, the very veil of the Christian's Deity; and yet should be as it is, the intensifying agent in things the most appalling to mankind.

Is it that by its indefiniteness it shadows forth the heartless voids and immensities of the universe, and thus stabs us from behind with the thought of annihilation, when beholding the white depths of the milky way? Or is it, that as in essence whiteness is not so much a color as the visible absence of color, and at the same time the concrete of all colors; is it for these reasons that there is such a dumb blankness, full of meaning, in a wide landscape of snows - a colorless, all- color of atheism from which we shrink? And when we consider that other theory of the natural philosophers, that all other earthly hues - every stately or lovely emblazoning - the sweet tinges of sunset skies and woods; yea, and the gilded velvets of butterflies, and the butterfly cheeks of young girls; all these are but subtile deceits, not actually inherent in substances, but only laid on from without; so that all deified Nature absolutely paints like the harlot, whose allurements cover nothing but the charnel-house within; and when we proceed further, and consider that the mystical cosmetic which produces every one of her hues, the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself, and if operating without medium upon matter, would touch all objects, even tulips and roses, with its own blank tinge - pondering all this, the palsied universe lies before us a leper; and like wilful travellers in Lapland, who refuse to wear colored and coloring glasses upon their eyes, so the wretched infidel gazes himself blind at the monumental white shroud that wraps all the prospect around him. And of all these things the Albino Whale was the symbol. Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?

The whiteness of the whale becomes, then, a void--it was an incredibly deft move by Melville to choose this instead of having the usual, black, its inverse in so many ways, stand in for emptiness and the limits of human understanding--it's that bit of our soul, our spark of life, our consciousness that we can experience and perhaps see the outlines of, but never really understand. Ahab doesn't want to get Moby Dick simply to rip out his blubber or to mount his head on the front of The Pequod; he wants to touch the void, to get at that part of human existence that many people simply push towards the metaphysical (religious types), or choose to ignore (agnostics, who could care less), or take as evidence of no over-arching meaning to the universe (atheists). Ahab's desire it to breach the void, to go further than any man before him. A little earlier in the novel, Ahab is explaining this to his firstmate, Starbuck, and he says:

Spoiler: show

"Hark ye yet again, - the little lower layer. All visible objects, man, are but as pasteboard masks. But in each event - in the living act, the undoubted deed - there, some unknown but still reasoning thing puts forth the mouldings of its features from behind the unreasoning mask. If man will strike, strike through the mask! How can the prisoner reach outside except by thrusting through the wall? To me, the white whale is that wall, shoved near to me. Sometimes I think there's naught beyond. But 'tis enough. He tasks me; he heaps me; I see in him outrageous strength, with an inscrutable malice sinewing it. That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or be the white whale principal, I will wreak that hate upon him. Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I'd strike the sun if it insulted me. For could the sun do that, then could I do the other; since there is ever a sort of fair play herein, jealousy presiding over all creations. But not my master, man, is even that fair play. Who's over me?

This is the key to Ahab's monomania, his singularly focused madness that will doom every man aboard his ship except for one. He's taken a simple thing, a beast, an unthinking animal that acts only on instinct, and hypothesized that it's actually the key to understanding the mysteries of the universe, to touching the untouchable spark within us all that also moves the stars. He even admits that he might be wrong--that there's "naught" (nothing) "beyond" its white surface, but simply the possibility is enough for him to risk life and limb of everyone around him. Starbuck recognizes the insanity here, saying, "God keep me! - keep us all!" and he tries to convince Ahab to turn back and forget his plans up until the bitter end. But, alas, it's not enough.

Melville's novel came at an important time in the history of American literature and art, and it's had a greater impact than he could have ever imagined (he died an unknown author working a shitty government job). It's been described as the first post-modern novel, one of the world's first unjudged homosexual novels, and one of the greatest adventure stories ever told. But it also had an incredible influence on the view of the monomaniac in American culture. Ahab's the villain and the unstoppable force responsible for all these deaths here, for sure, but he's also an example of rugged American individualism pushed to the max: he knows what he wants, and he'll stop at nothing to get it! Melville's book is a critique of the American mindset at the middle of the 19th century, as we pushed into the frontier and claimed our manifest destiny; "Hold on," it seems to say, "be careful what you wish for." .......and yet. We feel sympathy for Ahab. We've all stayed up late or had sleepless nights wondering what the purpose of it all is. Am I really me? Or am I just an accumulation of forces that really has no free will, driven by instincts that I mistake for free will?" (One of the most written about, enigmatic lines in the novel is spoken by the captain: "Is Ahab, Ahab?") Many times, we're meant to see similarities between Ahab and Milton's Satan, another obvious "villain" who, nonetheless, we feel sympathy for. America has had complex relationships with monomaniacs, both real and fictional, and this is where I'd like to slide into discussing American Movie.

The movie opens with a voiceover, and we hear Mark say, “I was a failure…and I can’t be that no more.” The tense here is worth pausing over: Mark’s emphasizing that he was a failure, that it’s a time in life that has passed, that that Mark is now over with. This is the driving force behind everything, I think, and it’s the driver of his monomania: he’s been the loser, he’s been a drunk, he’s been a bad father, but he’s never actually known what it means to be successful. And it’s this feeling of being successful, even though he doesn’t know what it is, that drives him. Much later in the film, Mark asks Mike what he thinks the rewards for their whole project are. Mike rattles off what he could possibly get as a famous movie producer: “Sex, money, power [he chuckles].” Mark repeats it back, and while you can sort of get the feeling that Mike is joking around or just saying what’s on the top of his head, you can feel Mark chew over the words and decide if that’s what he is looking for. Because even though Mark has intricate plans—see, for example, the shot of the whiteboard below—the plans are always the means to get to somewhere else: Coven is just a project to get money to make Northwestern, and that film is just the stepping stone to something else, and…where does it end? Mark’s goal is unbounded, and not really defined by making XXX amount of dollars or winning these certain awards, or getting written about in a certain publication; it’s all about simply moving from step, to step, to step, so he can begin to trace the outlines of the fame and recognition that he so sorely desires (to not be seen as a failure), and he assumes that eventually he’ll be able to burst through and really experience it, firsthand, and that it’ll be the defining moment of his life. In that way, making Northwestern really is his white whale—he doesn’t know exactly what he’ll do when he gets there, but he just has to get there to touch the untouchable.



And like Ahab and all of the other monomaniacs that came before him, Mark is a complex figure that can both inspire sympathy and admiration, but also derision and scorn. If there’s one thing Mark is, it’s dedicated. He’s worked hard to learn his craft (the shots at the beginning of his shelves is one that I keep coming back to, because it shows that even though he’s certainly an amateur, that doesn’t mean he’s working with no background or knowledge of his field), and he’s willing both put himself in weird situations (getting dragged through the mud) and to sacrifice (falling into debt, giving up comforts) to get work done.





However, even these “high points” have elements of Mark’s baser qualities in them. Even though this is a documentary, the film’s not without some artful shots. Very early on (see below) Mark’s going through all of the bills he owes, and right in the center of the frame is a picture of two of his kids. This gets more weight added onto it later, when we see Mark putting his kids to bed on an editing room floor (which would almost be a romantic story of how dedicated he is to his craft, if it wasn’t so sad) and getting into yelling matches in front of them with their mother. But Mark saves his absolute worst for Uncle Bill. In my notes, I wrote, “omfg, Bill, omfg,” because he is, by far, the most memorable “character” in this film, and I’m absolutely in love with him. Which makes the way Mark treats him at times even harder to take. Bill reads his poem: “So here’s to the joys we had together / When we met in June / Let us be the way we were / Sorry, I miss you so much…” It does sort of fall apart at the end, but even re-watching it, I’m having a hard time reading Mark. He’s either laughing because of how sweet Bill’s sentiment is…or he’s laughing at Bill’s attempt at sentimentality. I’m still trying to figure it out, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I do like, however, how Bill acts as the Starbuck to Mark’s Ahab: always ready with a snide comment and a reality check for Mark when his head gets too big. “That’ll be the day,” he says early in the film when Mark compares his work to Christopher Columbus. Later, he gets even more real. In the film’s funniest scene (“It’s alright…it’s okay…there’s something to live for…”), Mark tries to encourage Bill with, “You have to believe in what you’re saying.” Bill replies, “I don’t believe nothing of what you’re doing.” Ouch.



Mark exploits his mother for free labor when she’s got better things to do; he basically gets a direct line to Bill’s bank account, and it’s clear that Bill doesn’t totally understand; Mike is clearly not all there, and he follows Mark around like a puppy, and while they’re clearly friends, there’s an element of using him that keeps nagging me; and, as mentioned above, he keeps mentioning how much he loves his kids but keeps dragging them along as if they’re baggage. And yet: the screening of Coven at the film’s conclusion is an absolute triumph: people lining up around the block, cheers during the credits and screams at all the right times, and soaking up adoration onstage after the showing. If I have a critique of the movie, it’s that I think it’s too easy on Mark in the end: we spend the whole film trying to work out his complex character, and in the end he’s simply just successful. It’s a Hollywood ending that I’m not sure the rest of the film is working towards; perhaps I’m just a bit too caught up in its similarities to Moby-Dick and wanted it to have a similar sort of ending, but I really did enjoy the ride.




Here are some other thoughts I had about the film, in no particular order:

-If my kids ever want to do drugs, I am going to show them clips of Mike.

-The whole “co-VEN” vs. “CUV-en” thing is the sort of shit that you just can’t make up.

-I haven’t really mentioned them yet, but the actors that Mark casts for his films are some of my favorite people in the film. Just super into their craft, and probably working for free, and they treat the material and everyone around them with respect. Especially the old guy who yells and screams a lot. And props to the guy who got his head banged into the cupboard over and over.

-The way Mike says “vodka” is one of my favorite parts of the film, too.

-Who the hell stores beer in their freezer?

-Some of Mark’s cinematography is actually pretty good. There’s a tracking shot through a car junkyard that’s part of his old footage from Northwestern that actually made me go, “Woah.”

[Jorge]

I feel like the election has taken our attention away from this little exercise. I'm gonna watch it tonight

[Simple Torture]

I'd love to hear your thoughts, Whore-Hey! And if anybody else is still bummed about the election, I think this movie could be a breath of fresh air for you. And if you need them, I can PM you download links!

[lennytheweedwhacker]

is this at all connected to making a murderer?

[lennytheweedwhacker]

mike schank is how i used to picture bmacsmith

[Simple Torture]

is this at all connected to making a murderer?

Steven Avery attended the screening of one of Mark's movies and it inspired him to kill, I think.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

i thought that was a surge

[lennytheweedwhacker]

i enjoyed this, but i'm not sure i'm prepared to watch coven

[Simple Torture]

Wanted to put together a quick bibliography in case you wanted to keep reading about this movie. This isn't everything out there, and I haven't read all of them, but hopefully they can offer some new perspectives on American Movie.

--Mark is pretty active on Twitter! You can follow him here: https://twitter.com/morethescarier

--Here's Roger Ebert's review of the movie from January 2000: http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/american-movie-2000

--An interview with Mark from 2002: http://www.avclub.com/article/mark-borchardt-13774

--An interview with Mark from 2004: http://themadcapspeaks.squarespace.com/ ... interview/

--A short blog post of "Where Are They Now?" facts from 2014: http://undertheunderlook.blogspot.com/2 ... y-now.html

--An article called "Whatever Happened to Mark Borchardt?" Unfortunately, the original article it mentions a bunch of times is nowhere to be found: http://www.beyondhollywood.com/whatever ... can-movie/

--An edition of the AV Club's New Cult Canon on American Movie: http://www.avclub.com/article/the-new-c ... oviei-2442

--An article called "American Movie and the Power of Dreaming." Really looking forward to reading this one: https://thedissolve.com/features/movie- ... -dreaming/

[Simple Torture]

I hope that when I get to pick again in like a year that my choice doesn't happen to fall during the week of a total realignment of American politics.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

i thought it was a fine selection, and i'm sorry participation has been limited

[Simple Torture]

I completely understand, though. I only watched half of Rangi's pick because I had a rough couple of weeks; this week has been wild. Also, maybe there's not as much to say about documentaries?

[Jorge]

Rangi hasn't made a pick

[tragabigzanda]

Whenever there's active promotion on the part of somebody else, whenever I see somebody all dolled up for a fancy photograph and someone's handing out flyers or whenever there's active promotion for something like that, as an imposition on my day, I hate all those people and I want them to fail. I have a visceral reaction to advertising and promotion. There's just something about salesmanship that grates on me on a very base level and I react very negatively towards it. I want those people to suffer and I want their enterprises to fail.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

yeah kaius is the one who picked the kung fu movie then quit the board

[lennytheweedwhacker]

I completely understand, though. I only watched half of Rangi's pick because I had a rough couple of weeks; this week has been wild. Also, maybe there's not as much to say about documentaries?

I have every intention of following through on this. I've always wanted to see it, and I am especially excited right now to watch footage of the filmmakers getting footage (get me?)... If not tonight, then probably Wed or Thur.

what about monday or tuesday?

[Jorge]

Would it be weird to pause the next movie club pick and give this another week? Or should we just move ahead

[Simple Torture]

I hereby apologize to Kaius for mistaking him for Rangi (or vice versa, depending on who reads this post first).