Cinematic Companions: 'Nebraska' and 'The Last Picture Show'
Friday, November 29, 2013 at 5:00PM Hello, lovelies. Beau here, finally coming up for air from my last few weeks of undergrad to comment on Alexander Payne's fantastic new feature, Nebraska, and note some uncanny resemblances it has with another particular favorite of mine.
It's not a far stretch to imagine why these two films have been linked to one another so often in various articles and reviews lately. Aside from the obvious aesthetic choices made on the part of the creative team to shoot in black-and-white, the framing of the eerily silent, seemingly deserted locales or the clarity with which both films perceive and study their unique characters, Nebraska and The Last Picture Show both manage to tread a fine line in American cinema of empathizing with their characters without fully submitting to them.
Certain pictures cannot separate themselves from their players. They subjugate themselves to the same pains and whims and joys as their central heroes. The film is in love with them, in love with their journey; romanticizing and cajoling them every step of the way. I think of the way Sean Penn loves Emile Hirsch (or, to be more precise, Christopher McCandless) in Into the Wild. I think of the way Cameron Crowe moves Kate Hudson through Almost Famous, how Bergman watched Liv Ullmann by way of Sven Nyqvist, how Terrence Malick sees... frankly, everything.
Payne and Bogdonavich are not, however, warm filmmakers. Both understand film at its core, and both utilize that extensive knowledge to create worlds and places and times that are pervasive but not precious. Their acute sense of perception is enough to recreate something without fully subscribing to its nature.
What we have with The Last Picture Show is a chronicling of the death of a small town. We watch it as we would the ruins of some place of reverence when the structure begins to fail. But here, we see it happen in moments, in faces. With the way in which each character regards another, and the refraction of that image as the person on the other side makes each desire, each yearning, each fleeting moment of aspiration register with nary a word spoken.
What I've always found particularly brilliant about the film is the decision made on the part of Bogdonavich and Co. to have the life force of the town, Sam the Lion, pass away offscreen. It hurts all the more that his death throe, his last roar is not heard, not registered by anyone in the moment. It's not until later that the reverbarations of his passing are felt. Shops close. Change of Ownership. And finally, the death of the Royal Theatre in town, as Montgomery Clift and John Wayne ride offscreen in Red River and leave us behind. The projector slowly flutters out. The few remaining inhabitants grab their coats and begin to exit. There's talk about how no one wants to come to the pictures anymore. 'You got baseball in the summer, television all the time,' says Miss Mosey, who tried to keep the Royal dream alive. 'If Sam had lived, I guess we would have kept it going, but I just didn't have the know-how.'
If the world of The Last Picture Show is aching to keep breathing, the world of Nebraska has come to terms with its demise. It's the sort of death that hasn't regenerated a new way of life, but also hasn't put an end to the old one. It's the worst kind of purgatory; where the old ways are left to their own devices. The expiration date is set, but there's no push to expedite it. No need to rush along the inevitable. Let it all take care of itself.
Walking along old streets and recognizing old haunts, Woody realizes that he knows these places. He's been here before. He's lived through this before. And as he goes through the motions in an impartial daze, he watches life reenact itself. He was here with these people in this bar once upon a time. He dated that woman. He owned that shop. If The Last Picture Show is a long march towards and through the valley of the shadow, Nebraska is a look back at what that death has brought our protagonist to in the eternal. Like Tennessee Williams' The Glass Menagerie, it is a memory play that just happens to exist in a vaccum of space and time, where then and now run parallel to one another. Trains on different tracks have converged alongside one another for a moment, just a moment, where you happen to catch a glimpse of who you were, and who you never hoped to be.
While both films are caked in tenable sadness, it is the achievement of both Bogdonavich and Payne that they are able to exceptionally draw various kinds of decay without allowing themselves to submit to them. To play into the idea that people are incapable of change. If the times are able to, why shouldn't we? Their empathy extends only so far as their clarity will allow for them to look.
Sometimes, I think about where a film would live if it had the choice. What would it be doing if it were living and breathing? What space would it occupy? What would it do to pass the time until it's being watched again?
With these two twins, it's not hard to imagine them sitting on a bench next to one another, surveying the landscape in a perennial sunset, focused not on the the dying of the light, but rather, what they're going to find in the dark.
Golly, look at all those stars.
Reader Comments (9)
Having been raised in Nebraska, I definitely can't wait to see the film. "Citizen Ruth," "About Schmidt" and "Election" are easily among the best movies to capture the specific parts of the region. ("The Last Picture Show" always struck a chord with me as well, for that stunning midwest aura, and being, well, just generally one of the best movies ever). I'd say three others that come to mind for showcasing the region and channeling its vibe are "The Straight Story," "Boys Don't Cry" and maybe "What's Eating Gilbert Grape."
I found great similarities in both films, however, when I saw Nebraska last night, I was subtly moved by the story, and my internal sensations kept wondering "when is something going to happen?" The Last Picture Show resonated with me for various reason, but I think mostly because a great story has great stakes. The various colorful characters in The Last Picture Show and tone meant such a great deal, and it exposed a naked truth about humanity in so many ways (death, naivety, lust, love, loneliness) . In Nebraska, I knew the subtlety was there, but it was paced so slow. I was rather bored with the film. And I get it: it's a "father-son story," it's a "road trip story," it's a "coming to terms story," it's a "homecoming story," however I was simply bored. Thank God for June Squibb's character who brought some sense of urgency because of her crass and hilarious behavior. Bruce Dern was great, but the film was so "lonely" that almost any character that had some bite stood out. Even the receptionist at the end of the film left more of a mark than any of the leading characters. The film doesn't try to be beautiful cinematically, yet the landscape still was quite a site. I left not caring. That Last Picture Show stayed with me. Nebraska left me as soon as I left the theater.
Woody is a wonderful character, sad and deep and beautifully captured, and he'd fit perfectly into the world Bogdanovich created in Last Picture Show. The rest of Payne's characters (with the exception of Stacey Keech, maybe) are not nearly as rich, and Nebraska suffers as a result. I thought Payne failed exactly where Bogdanovich succeeded, though the affinities between the two films are nicely captured here.
Beautifully written, Beau, and sums up feelings I couldn't quite articulate.
@tory and @roarke: Really good points. I think I liked "Nebraska" better than you both did, but when June Squibb got off that bus, I thought: "Thank God!"
What are the opinions about Will Forte's performance? I thought it had some good moments, but I just didn't buy him as that character. He seemed too smart and, I don't know, maybe too well put together to be the son of those parents and a guy working at a Best Buy-like store and living in an apartment of dead plants.
Beau, you've given me a lot to ponder. Both films are works of brilliantly conceived tragedy, with a sense of loss so palpable it brings tears. Nebraska deserves all the accolades it's been getting. Dern gives one of the best performances of the year. Great article!
I've not yet seen Nebraska. And I admit, as someone who found both Sideways and The Descendants a revolting experience, I'm more than a tad wary of anything Payne comes up with from now on (though the stills look gorgeous, and I do love Will Forte).
However in any case, there are very few films that could stand up to comparison with Bogdanovich's hypnotic, achingly beautiful, profoundly moving Last Picture Show. One of the greatest films ever made, as far as I'm concerned.
Always fascinating writing, Beau... Can't wait to see this on Saturday. Election, Sideways, About Schmidt, and The Descendants all rank somewhere on my personal Top 100 of All Time list...
Not even in the same league. LAST PICTURE SHOW is a masterpiece.
NEBRASKSA has a few decent performances but no lasting impact.
Two extraordinary films. However, I think you made "Nebraska" sound more sobering than it actually is. In reality it's actually hilarious, more of a straight-up comedy than any Payne film since "Election" probably. I honestly can't remember the last time I laughed so hard in a theater.