Every month, Establishing Shot brings you a selection of films from our group of regular bloggers. Even though these films aren’t currently being screened at the IU Cinema, this series reflects the varied programming that can be found at the Cinema and demonstrates the eclectic tastes of the bloggers. Each contributor has picked one film that they saw this month that they couldn’t wait to share with others. Keep reading to find out what discoveries these cinephiles have made, as well as some of the old friends they’ve revisited.
Jesse Pasternack, contributor | The Last Waltz (1978)
The Last Waltz is one of the best Thanksgiving films ever made. The fact that it is a concert documentary may make its connection to the holiday seem tenuous, even if most of it did take place on it. But, more than that, it reflects the best of that holiday because of how it celebrates the values of abundance and community.
This film is about the farewell concert given by the iconic and influential musical group known as The Band. They performed that concert on Thanksgiving Day 1976 (guests received turkey for dinner) at the Winterland Ballroom in San Francisco. Director Martin Scorsese — working with a murderers’ row of cinematographers like Michael Chapman, Laszlo Kovacs, and Vilmos Zsigmond — intercuts footage of that concert’s performances with interviews of members of The Band as they talk about their career and what brought them to this moment in their lives.
One of my favorite things about The Last Waltz is how many great guests appear onstage to perform with The Band. Almost two dozen musicians, ranging from Ronnie “The Hawk” Hawkins to The Staples Singers, join them throughout the concert to play classic rock songs and The Band’s own compositions. Some musicians even perform when they’re not onstage, like when Joni Mitchell provides backing vocals as Neil Young performs “Helpless.” By the time Ringo Starr shows up at the end for the finale, it feels perfectly in keeping with the character of the evening, the richness of which feels like a musical version of the abundance of a Thanksgiving dinner. By the end of this movie, you’ll feel stuffed, just like you would after eating a lot of turkey and stacks of side dishes.
But what really makes this film reflect Thanksgiving at its best is how it depicts the value of community. The Band was going to break up but, when they’re onstage, they form an ideal community devoted to making great music. They feed off each other in fantastic ways, never more directly than when they sing together in a manner which allows each member of The Band to shine even as they create a beautiful sound as a harmonious whole. The way they come together to perform is a great reflection of how people come together to celebrate Thanksgiving. By the time everyone comes back onstage to perform “I Shall Be Released,” you’ll feel stirred by this portrait of a community of musicians coming together to say goodbye to one of the best bands of the mid-20th century.
The Last Waltz will probably always be known as one of the best concert documentary films. But its great bounty of musical performances and beautiful portrait of a community coming together for a special occasion make it a perfect Thanksgiving film. Whether you’re watching it after a gigantic meal or just have it on in the background while you cook, this film should be a part of the holiday for you.
Chris Forrester, contributor | The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)
As is typical for me and all those who watch movies with me, November is Noirvember and with few exceptions all that I watch is shadowy, grim, and ridden with all manner of crime, deceit, and human ugliness. But to adhere to just the bounds of what ticks all of the noir boxes — cigarette-blasting hardboiled detectives, inky shadows, angular compositions, dangerous dames, crimes of passion and greed — would grow boring year after year, and so part of the pleasure of continued observation of this month-long holiday is the room it affords to slot in films more noir-ish than the celebrated mainstays. My big addition to the slate this year was John Huston’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, more commonly characterized as a western or adventure film but tinged with enough darkness to fit comfortably among the best of noirs.
The premise is simple: an aging prospector (Walter Huston) recruits a pair of down-on-their-luck Americans (Humphrey Bogart and Tim Holt) to search for gold in the toponymous mountain range — and, with direction from (John) Huston (whose The Maltese Falcon and The Asphalt Jungle are regarded among the finer classical noirs), the story of greed and paranoia that emerges takes on a distinctly noirish bleakness. As the men strike gold and their wealth accumulates, so too does their mistrust for one another and indeed the entire world around them. The film elapses in a number of successive episodes that illustrate the men’s mounting paranoia and the rejection of their basic humanity that accompanies it, key among them a run-in with a visitor who may or may not know of the wealth they’ve struck and ensuing shootout with bandits, and a plea from locals for help rescuing a comatose boy who nearly drowned. Even as the film more broadly encompasses the characteristics of the adventure film, one can clearly sense the noirish darkness roiling beneath its surfaces and omnipresent in every deceitful gaze and inky shadow; it might not feel out of place amongst noirs like Billy Wilder’s Ace in the Hole or Charles Laughton’s Night of the Hunter, in tone as much as quality.
Noni Ford, contributor | When Will It Be Again Like It Never Was Before (2023)
Joachim has a problem: he has explosive bouts of rage that he expresses through physical, often violent, spasms directed at those around him and himself. They plague him off and on throughout his adolescence as he fights to find a way to express his emotions and to find his place in the world. He’s not a lone character, though, in Sonja Heiss’s When Will It Be Again Like It Never Was Before, his family and his slightly unconventional living environment are a strong part of Joachim’s upbringing. The whole family lives next to a psychiatric hospital in Germany where Joachim’s father is the head doctor. Interspersed with moments of levity, the film covers the wide-ranging struggles of mental health and the precarity of familial relationships along with the rapidity of growing up.
Somewhat similar to Boyhood, Joachim’s growth shows up onscreen without an intertitle on the length of time passed, we just suddenly see a teen where we once saw a boy. While three different actors embody Joachim at different ages, the parents and many adult characters stay the same age. Each of the actors portraying Joachim stays true to the heart of the character and his vulnerability mixed with the openness that he carries. The film is based on an autobiographical book of the same name and in some of the more heartbreaking family scenes, the audiences I saw the film with couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise or sadness. This adaptation aptly captured the moments of understanding, tenderness, anger, and despair that are experienced at one point or another by all families. While the film’s main focus is ultimately Joachim’s life and experiences, we still see bits and pieces of the narratives of the other members of the family and patients at the hospital. Just like life, things are always happening, and people are always dealing with their own struggles even as you are focused on your path in life. I enjoyed the sensitivity and visual transitions Heiss used in the film to make us not simply feel like voyeurs to his story, but rather like we too were growing up beside him.
Michaela Owens, Editor | Cover Up (1949)
When insurance investigator Dennis O’Keefe comes to a small midwestern town after the apparent suicide of a wealthy man named Roger Phillips, he finds himself stonewalled by the cagey sheriff (William Bendix), a coroner who has conveniently left town for the holidays, and unhelpful interviewees like the man who discovered Phillips’s body and the dead man’s niece. As O’Keefe’s belief that Phillips was murdered becomes stronger, so do his feelings for local girl Barbara Britton — and his suspicion that Britton’s father is somehow mixed up in the case.
If you’re like Chris and I and want to indulge in Noirvember — while also adding just a sprinkle of holiday content to your watchlist — Cover Up is one of my little-known favorites. At a brisk 83 minutes, the film is an intriguing mystery with great characters whose motivations we realize are often rooted in love, whether it’s love for their family, their romantic interest, or their community. Producer Ted Nasser reportedly wanted to change the time of Cover Up‘s setting given the film’s subject matter, but star O’Keefe, who also co-wrote the script under a pseudonym, fought for the yuletide background, which was completely right. The whodunnit aspect is what drives the movie, but the townspeople, with their care for one another, is its beating heart, making it the perfect story to be set at Christmastime. It would’ve been easy for Cover Up to go full icy noir, but I’ve always loved the warmth which thaws the film slowly enough so you get something both cynical and cozy, sordid and wholesome.
I couldn’t find a trailer for this film, but you can currently stream it for free on either the Roku Channel or Tubi!