Víctor Erice's return will make you believe in miracles

by Cláudio Alves

Miracles haven't existed in movies since Dreyer.

So says a gruff film editor to his aged director friend in Víctor Erice's first feature in three decades, a work brilliant enough to make a lie of that line. Well, it was miraculous to me, though there must be some dissenters out there. Folks like Thierry Frémaux who infamously conned Erice into opening the flick at Cannes under the assumption it would play in competition. Only, Close Your Eyes didn't get to vie for the Palme d'Or, getting shafted into the newborn Premiere section. At this point, that farrago must be water under the bridge, though one presumes a big Cannes victory would have helped Close Your Eyes get to theaters sooner. For American audiences, it only now made it to screens, enjoying a limited release courtesy of Film Movement…

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Almost There: Lois Smith in "Five Easy Pieces"

by Cláudio Alves

No matter how respected or prolific a thespian may be, the glow of Oscar gold isn't guaranteed. Just ask Lois Smith, a titan of the contemporary American stage with nearly 150 screen credits to her name. The closest she ever came to the Academy's good graces was at the start of the 70s and the New Hollywood craze, when playing Jack Nicholson's pianist sister in Five Easy Pieces. Bob Rafelson's film is something of a classic for those interested in this era of American cinema, but its legend tends to circle around the leading man and, maybe, Karen Black. Still, Smith delivers a performance worth considering and, as the title of this post suggests, she was almost there…

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The People's Joker Is A Woman of Her Word

by Nick Taylor

That’s right folks: It’s time. The review you’ve all been waiting for. It’s me, talking about The People’s Joker, one of the year’s best films. You’ve had over a week now to see this magnificence in your own homes, to treasure its weird earnestness barely submerged amidst so much scuzzy kitsch, to marvel at such ingenuity despite palpably limited assets, to bemoan the lack of international release or festival screenings even though this would kill at a queer film festival. My two trips to see this in a packed theater, flanked on all sides by queers who were so ready for the madness Vera Drew promised them, rank among the best crowd experiences I’ve ever had, and it’s a genuine bummer more people won’t get to experience The People’s Joker in that environment.

It’s not the release this film deserves, but being even this accessible to a wide audience is what it needs. For those wondering what The People’s Joker is, or need an extra push to check it out, follow me below the cut and learn all about it . . . . 

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My first meeting with Gena Rowlands

by Cláudio Alves

The dedication at the end of Pedro Almodóvar' ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER (1999).

Yesterday, as The Film Experience's first foray into honoring Gena Rowlands drew to a close, I asked the readers: Can you remember how you first encountered her?

It's an interesting query since the introduction to an artist can set so much of one's relationship with them going forward. Personally, it's a matter of fascination because I remember so well when and where I first met the goddess that Cassavetes immortalized in his films. At least, I know the moment I became aware of Rowlands as someone I should pay attention to and treasure. It wasn't through any of her works, not directly. Instead, this brush with my actressexual fate came at the end of a tomato-red melodrama beset by maternal madness and a Spanish twist. Yes, I discovered Gena Rowlands through the dedication at the end of Pedro Almodóvar's All About My Mother...

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Goodbye, Gena Rowlands (1930-2024)

by Cláudio Alves

Gena Rowlands in OPENING NIGHT (1977) John Cassavetes

Two days ago, cinephiles worldwide were met with some sad news, tragic beyond belief. Gena Rowlands died at the age of 94 after a few years battling with dementia, as her son, Nick Cassavetes, had previously revealed to the public. It's a loss that defies comprehension because Rowlands' talent was just the same, a generational marvel whose importance can't be overstated. Cinema, especially independent American film, is what it is today because of her contribution. The same can be said about the art of screen acting, in general. So much so that even those who don't gel with her mercuriality must contend with Rowlands' place in the annals of history. 

Even as I loathe to use the term 'undeniable,' Rowlands is the exception to the rule. Consider her undeniable influence on countless artists. Consider the undeniable mark she left on those who watched her and felt themselves freefalling into the deepest recesses of the human soul, a chasm you love to get lost within…

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