Showing posts with label Gas Food Lodging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gas Food Lodging. Show all posts

Thursday, 30 March 2017

Ten things I learned about Gas, Food Lodging

The latest in my now-almost-regular series. Recent articles include The Crying Game, Peter Lorre and Lillian Gish.


Yes, I do have excellent seats, thank you for noticing.

Allison Anders’ 1992 indie has been a favourite of mine for years. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve watched my battered, pan-and-scan VHS copy, taped off Channel 4 a few years later. I love Anders’ unique viewpoint – empathetic, unsensationalised, real – her film’s delicate balancing of emotions, and its aesthetic and emotional treats: J Mascis’s spare, evocative guitar score, Dean Lent’s decolourised, subtly beautiful cinematography, and Fairuza Balk’s performance, the greatest of a sporadically spectacular career in which she has been unfailingly fine, but in films only sometimes befitting her transcendent gifts.

She’s the teenage, introspective Shade, who lives with her sister Trudie (Ione Skye) and their single mom (Brooke Adams) in a New Mexico trailer. Like River Phoenix’s hero in Idaho, Shade is also searching for a family, but in an inert, haphazard way that keeps her within the boundaries of a drab, colourless small town. Ione, the town slut, has regular shouting matches with her witty, loyal, self-pitying mother, but both are masking a desperate pain, scrolling through romantic misadventures much like Shade’s heroes, those characters depicted by glamorous Spanish movie star Elvia Rivero in the local fleapit.



It’s a series of glorious vignettes – held together within an ingenious, elasticated structure – from those gloriously-realised films-within-a-film, a romantic encounter in a cave lit by violet light, and Adams’ charmingly weird ‘first date’ with an old flame, to Balk’s hilariously incompetent, profoundly moving seduction of Darius (Donovan Leitch, Jr.), and her gradual discovery of a soulmate in the shape of cherubic ‘cholo’ Javier (Jacob Vargas). Balk dominates throughout, with a performance of startling depth and beguiling sensitivity, though I don’t see it as the whole show, as I think I used to. Skye and Adams are both terrific (despite the odd wooden line-reading), James Brolin is superb as a benevolent stranger and, seeing the film as it should be – on a big screen, in a sumptuous new digital print – one is struck by the clarity of Anders’ artistic vision, her lack of judgmentalism, and her consummating shepherding of her creative collaborators, their talents drawn out and drawn together in the service of the story.

That story seems fresh now, was ahead of its time even in 1998, and must have been positively revolutionary six years earlier. Just watch Trudie’s departure for Dallas, a sequence that Kelly Reichardt would be proud of in 2017, and see how Anders deals with these female characters frankly and honestly, employing a deft, humanist poetry born of mutual dependence, pragmatism and real love, in place of the trite sentimentalism that dominates so much of cinema. And watch Balk trailing off into the brush, her ferocious loyalty and protectiveness of her spiky, abrasive older sister paying off not with a Hollywood ending, but with one that’s ultimately more satisfying, because it’s honest.

It's a great film. One of the great films. And, like Idaho, it's not flawless, but it's more important than films which arguably are.


That absolutely American DVD cover (it's never been released over here), with a misleading photo and a dreadful tagline: "When Shade's good, she's very good. But when Trudi's bad, she's better."

On Tuesday, the BFI held a special 25th anniversary screening. Here are 10 things I learnt from writer-director Allison Anders’ post-film Q&A:


1. Learning on a Wim
Anders was mentored by arthouse giant Wim Wenders, after a sustained campaign to win his favour that include writing him letters up to 30 pages long, and – with two of her friends – winning grants to study with him on the set of Paris, Texas, without asking him if it would be OK. When she did, Wenders looked into the distance, and said: “Oh well, you better come along then.” Dean Lent, who went on to shoot Gas, Food Lodging, studied cinematographer Robby Müller obsessively on the set of Paris, Texas. Her second mentor was Martin Scorsese. His Universal deal in the mid-1990s included the capacity to produce five smaller-budget features. His then-girlfriend, Ileana Douglas, asked for a meeting with Anders, they got on well, and decided to make Grace of My Heart (Anders’ 1996 movie, set in the Brill Building). Scorsese had planned a Lieber and Stoller biopic himself, but couldn’t get the knots out of his story. When Anders was briefly away from the Grace set, star Matt Dillon found himself working under Scorsese. “I can’t believe you left me with this hack,” he told her.


2. Chicago fired
Anders’ Belgian producer, Carl Colpaert, picked up Gas, Food Lodging’s source novel – Don’t Look and It Won’t Hurt by Richard Peck – at a thrift store for 10 cents, and optioned the rights. Anders wrote two drafts of the script, in the process scrapping the Chicago setting, streamlining Trudie’s character – “you can’t be both the town slut and the most popular girl in school”, adding a sex life for the mum (“a tired woman who just worked and raised the kids”) – and removing a third kid “because to be honest, [the mum] had enough to do”. By the time filming commenced, almost all of the material was her own.


3. ‘I’m never gonna cease to roam’
The film was set in New Mexico “because the producers wanted to go to New Mexico”. Anders was determined not to shoot somewhere too beautiful, like Santa Fe, as the basic drabness of the setting was integral to her vision, which coupled the mundane and the magical. The scenes set inside the trailer were filmed in a trailer home, put in a warehouse for absolute control over the setting.


4. Caving in
Nick Cave was the original choice for Robert Knepper’s character, an English rock-collector, which would have been ideal, as he spends most of his time in caves. An unnamed, high-profile English actor was then cast, but then dropped out at the last minute. Anders apologised for Knepper’s accent, but it’s actually pretty good.


5. Balking at Barrymore
Anders tested "every actor of that age who is now famous" for the part of Shade, including Drew Barrymore and Reese Witherspoon. She wanted the character to have a range and complexity that was beyond the capabilities of everyone aside from Balk. "All the actors were either bubbly or dark, but Fairuza had that lightness and depth." In my question, I'd said that Balk was "so good" in the film. "Isn't she?!" enthused Anders, adding that she is "great in everything". (I've discussed Fairuza's erratic career here.) She singled out the scene in the hospital room (perhaps the greatest thing the actress does in the picture), joking that she was "incredibly grateful to Milos Forman, as he had taught her to cry effortlessly on demand" while filming Valmont. Anders said Balk's performance resonated so much because "she was quite like that character, and she had been raised by a single mum", as had Skye, while Anders and Adams were both single parents themselves.


6. Darius' vassal
Is Darius, the object of Shade's initial affections, gay? Anders and her editor, Tracy Granger decided in the edit that it should be unresolved. And Leitch, in his performance, had done the same thing. "He's camp, and he's probably gay, but maybe he's just a New Romantic," Anders said.


7. Up to scratch
Granger 'aged' the Elvia Rivero footage by scratching it with her stepdad's Victrola. He was Richard Brooks, and it was the one he had used on the set of In Cold Blood. Her parents, incidentally, were two greats of the British screen: the ethereal Jean Simmons, and matinee idol Stewart Granger.


8. Lost in translation
Anders' one regret with the finished film is that she didn't subtitle the Spanish dialogue (though the Rivera sequences were subtitled when it screened on Channel 4, and I have the beaten-up pan-and-scan video to prove it). The reason, apparently, was money, and Anders' concern that audiences weren't used to watching subtitled films. Mascis was particularly disappointed when he saw the completed version, saying that it spoiled the climactic scene between Shade and Javier.


9. Allison's starting to happen
Having studied the French New Wave, German New Cinema and British Free Cinema at UCLA, Anders (top of frame) wanted to be part of a movement "and then I was": the American arthouse scene of the early '90s. She's directed seven features in total, as well as three TV movies, and has directed episodes of The Mentalist, Orange Is the New Black and a certain vapid show about four single women exploring Manhattan's dating scene. Though Anders isn't a big fan of TV, those four Sex and the City episodes keep the money rolling in even now, and have presumably helped her to realise other, more personal, projects.


10. Terrence's stamp
An essential 10th insight courtesy of the Telegraph's Tim Robey, who asked Anders about the apparent influence of Terrence Malick's breathtaking Days of Heaven, perhaps the most beautiful colour film ever made, which he'd spotted in Shade's voiceover and the final shot. You're right, said Anders, and it was intentional.

... and finally...


Those are not typos above. After all these years, we FINALLY have an answer on the title. It is not 'Gas Food Lodging' (as in the BFI's programme) or 'Gas, Food, Lodging' as it's frequently written but, erm, 'Gas, Food Lodging' (kudos to IMDb, who have it correct). "We couldn't afford a second comma in the credits," according to Anders, which is NOT an explanation and renders the above poster INACCURATE.

***

Thanks for reading.

Sunday, 6 March 2011

Fairuza Balk - A celebration

By Rick Burin



There she is on the right, surveying the blog in her own inimitable fashion, as she has since the day it started. Fairuza Balk. My favourite turqoise-eyed ingenue turned sassy-but-vulnerable goth-punk. And, for many years now, one of the few actors I'll watch in absolutely anything.

A teenage crush started it, but we've all had a lot of call centre jobs since then. Inspired by a chance viewing of Things to Do in Denver, I quickly consumed every Fairuza film I could get my grubby mitts on and no matter how glorious (Return to Oz), incisive (American History X) or Adam Sandler-ish (The Waterboy) the results, she was always the best thing on screen. By turns subtle, explosive and beguiling, she was one of those artists with whom you feel an immediate and important affinity. The most exciting screen presence of her generation. An actress of extraordinary potency. And did I mention that Valmont is actually amazing? It's the film where Balk wears ruby slippers and Colin Firth emerges from a lake with in a sopping wet white shirt. Put that in yer pub quiz.

The only mystery, on the basis of Balk's mesmerising turn in Gas Food Lodging, is how a performer of her unabashed talent and gobsmacking emotional sensitivity failed to go on to conquer the world. It's churlish to view through sad eyes a career that's involved working for Milos Forman, Wim Wenders and Werner Herzog, but at the same time, I always felt frustrated that there seemed to have been a paucity of Fairuza films - and roles - truly worthy of her gifts. I figured this was down to poor luck, the wrong choices or Hollywood's unfortunate propensity to pigeon-hole a performer on the basis of one hit film. Now I'm not so sure. Her new website and associated Facebook and Twitter feeds, suggest that she's actually very happy as she is: making records, drinking tea, writing kids' books and appearing in a couple of pretty interesting films a year. So that shows what I know - very little, as per usual.

Anyway, for those of you who, like me, see just about everything in terms of cold, hard films, here's a quick run through Fairuza's career highlights...



1. Return to Oz (Walter Murch, 1985) - A belated, superior sequel to MGM's splashy sing-along that was unleashed on an unsuspecting world in 1985 - and promptly made all the children burst into tears. Balk is Dorothy Gale, back in Kansas and embarrassing her folks. She keeps going on about her mates – one of whom's made out of straw, another out of tin, and a third who seems to be some sort of camp lion – so Aunt Em decides to give her electro-shock treatment. Yes, really. Luckily she escapes and, finally arriving back in Oz, finds the Emerald City in ruins and her former companions turned to stone. With a new gaggle of rebels, Dorothy tries to right these terrible wrongs, but soon enough dismembered heads start yakking and our heroes have to escape on a talking sofa with the head of a moose. Then it gets really weird. I'd say it was the greatest kids' film ever made, if I was sure it's suitable for kids. Whatever, it's utterly brilliant: a stunning fusion of horror and childhood fantasy that gleefully subverts the iconography of the original whilst providing a wealth of whizz-bang thrills. The director, Walter Murch, had been the sound mixer on Coppola's The Conversation and Apocalypse Now. He never helmed another movie. In her first theatrical feature, Balk is truly superb; the definitive Dorothy. (4)



2. Valmont (Milos Forman, 1987) is an uproariously entertaining period romp that slips into perilous darkness in its second half. The script is well weighted, laced with pungent one-liners without going overboard, but it's the cast that's the real draw: caddish Firth, omniscient, plotting Bening and sweet, virginal Balk, two years on from her Oz heroics. If you've ever wanted to see the goths' representative on film sing a folk song, accompanying herself on the harp, this would appear to be your chance. (3.5)


I'm not sure who cropped this picture, but I don't respect the way they've done it.

3. If Return to Oz is Fairuza's best film (and it transparently is), then Gas Food Lodging (Allison Anders, 1992) features far and away her finest performance; one of the best in '90s cinema. I find it hard to put into words just how much I like it, and its utter honesty. The movie isn't perfect, its rich atmosphere, thoughtful dialogue and exquisite film-within-a-film segments offset by the odd wooden gesture or duff line, but it's appealingly original and in her transitional role Balk is simply transcendent: her Shade travelling untainted through a succession of defining moments as she searches for romance and for her father. (3.5)



4. Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead (Gary Fleder, 1995) is a spotty but extremely memorable thriller, one of a slew of offbeat American crime pics made in the mid-90s. Andy Garcia (the punchy trainee cop from The Untouchables) is an ex-con with a new venture: filming terminally ill people so they can speak to friends and family from beyond the grave. In debt to bankroller Christopher Walken, he plans a heist, enlisting the help of several other actors who've escaped from the 1980s, among them Treat Williams – brilliant in Lumet's Prince of the City – Christopher Lloyd (Doc from Back to the Future) and William Forsythe (Once Upon a Time in America). Garcia spars romantically with Gabrielle Anwar, while keeping an eye out for troubled Fairuza, and trying to stay one step ahead of Steve Buscemi's slick hitman, Mr Shhh (so called because he "don't say much"). This stylish, intriguing picture has too many lulls and inconsistencies to trouble anyone's top films list, but Balk is absolutely arresting in her supporting part, and there's a melancholy, nostalgic undercurrent reinforced by Garcia's backward-looking catchphrase: "Back in the day". (3)



5. American History X (Tony Kaye, 1998) - Well, this is something different, anyway. Fairuza as a neo-Nazi, chiding intense Edward Norton for giving up on the old race hate. She's great in it, as is Norton, and it's powerful stuff, despite the sound of plot gears crunching towards the end. (3)



6. Don't Come Knocking (Wim Wenders, 2005) - Wim Wenders and Sam Shepard re-teamed 21 years on from their peerless Paris, Texas for this off-kilter road movie. Shepard, a leading man in the '70s (he's one of the central trio in Terence Malick's Days of Heaven), plays a broken down old Western actor who heads back home to see his ma (Eva Marie Saint), then off in search of the son he never knew he had. The storyline is a bit jagged, but Shepard's dialogue is, as always, on a higher plane. Fairuza is a joy in a primarily comic role, her ding-dong with Gabriel Mann as they stalk down the street being an obvious highlight. (3)

... and here's a round-up of some of the others:



Personal Velocity: Three Portraits (Rebecca Miller, 2002) - She might not have her father Arthur's genius, but writer-director Miller certainly knows her way around the rudest word in the English language. Does that make up for it? I'm not sure. The film is split into three chapters. The last has Fairuza wandering around in shock and she's phenomenally good. The Worst Witch (Robert Young, 1986) is a super little TV movie for kids, The Craft (Andrew Fleming, 1996) - in which she plays a far worse witch - I can pretty much leave, despite Balk's trademark pyrotechnics as a baddie, while The Waterboy (Frank Coraci, 1998) is just a stale rehash of Harold Lloyd's The Freshman. Starring Adam Sandler. I'm a big admirer of Fairuza's work in American Perfekt (Paul Chart, 1997), but you'd struggle to argue that it's a good film. Again, Almost Famous (Cameron Crowe, 2000), where she's cast as one of Kate Hudson's legion of "band aides", has a fervent following, and I usually take to Crowe's brand of sentimentality, but it didn't really do it for me.

So there we are. What's next? Well, she's mentioned a possible collaboration with Quentin Dupieux (director of Rubber and the guy responsible for Flat Beat), but despite Fairuza's clear contentment, sheer selfishness on my part dictates that I'd be fascinated to see what a few more of modern cinema's true greats - von Trier, Wes Anderson, Lasse Hallström, Gus Van Sant - could achieve alongside her. And in the meantime I'll stop being so churlish.