BONFEST 55

OVERLOOKED OCTOBER

Two sleepers well worth revisiting, with Bill Pullman at his offbeat best in both. He’s a scene-stealer in Igby Goes Down (’02), adding untamed heart to Burr Steers’s cynically charming coming-of-age tale. Kieran Culkin is the title star, a 21st century Holden Caulfield navigating adolescence in Manhattan alongside Claire Danes and Amanda Peet. Pullman is the focal point of Zero Effect (’98), however, and he’s oddly magnetic. Ben Stiller plays straight man to his loopy logician in Jake Kasdan’s clever comedy, sneaking laughs into a twisty mystery laced with endearingly awkward romance.

NOIRVEMBER

Were I permitted just one subset of movies to view for eternity, unquestionably it would be the dark shadows and come-hither contours of film noir, that most wickedly glamorous of existential dreads. Selecting two from a glowing briefcase of gems is easy only because of the multifaceted beauty of Gene Tierney, the femme fatale at the center of these compulsively engrossing yarns. Laura ('44), tops among Otto Preminger's many fine works, is a moody milestone that will keep you guessing (and guffawing) until its final frames. But Leave Her to Heaven ('45), that rare color noir, turns Tierney supremely vicious. Vincent Price figures in both.

FAN FAVE DECEMBER

This past Fourth of July our cozy cadre of space cadets embarked on an incongruous movie mission when it was discovered that my wife Jessica had never seen Grease (with good reason, she'd add) while our Batuu-beholden buddy Randee had never seen a single Star Wars episode, not even the one that started it all. A snarky gaggle of us rectified that with GreaseWars, gleefully enhanced by well-placed barbs and retorts, MST3K-style. Now comes Round 2: Xanadu vs. Empire = Xanpire! Arguably the best of the ever-growing LucasFilm catalog vs. Olivia Newton-John and ELO at their cheesiest. Clever commentary most welcome. 

FANTASUARY

When tightroping the line between sci-fi and fantasy, my balance leans toward the latter. But that doesn't mean such fare is lighthearted folly. Take these two wildly imaginative films set (mostly) during WWII. A Matter of Life and Death ('46), a hereafter tale with David Niven and Kim Hunter from fantastical masters Powell & Pressburger, is as theologically thoughtful as it is enchantingly romantic. And like the Vonnegut book it adapts, Slaughterhouse-Five (George Roy Hill, '72) leads us to ponder both human futility and cosmic infinity as we watch Billy Pilgrim become unstuck in time.

BLACKUARY

With the passing of James Earl Jones, one of the most commanding presences in screen history, I’d really love to show The Great White Hope, the '68 boxing drama that earned him an Oscar nod not long after a Tony win. I reserve the right to change my mind (see fine print). But here at BonFest we strive for blu-ray-or-better quality, which is why I'm favoring the Criterion edition of another less-recalled JEJ classic, Claudine, John Berry's realistic rom-com alternative to the era's glut of sensational blaxploitation pictures. Paired with a much grittier glimpse of Black life in the ‘70s: the riveting second film from the Hughes Brothers, Dead Presidents. 

MARCH MADNESS

Sam and I recently watched Time Bandits, still the perfect gateway into the fantastical world of Terry Gilliam. His response was so strong that Brazil, the masterpiece after that odyssey, is now a must. But what to accompany it? Maybe something darker (Aronofsky's Pi) or more disturbing (Harron's American Psycho)? Perhaps a puzzle (Scorsese's Shutter Island) or a portrait (Cassavetes' A Woman Under the Influence)? I opted for something with a similar sense of unnerving whimsy: The Ruling Class, Peter Medak's black comedy of '72, and a tour de force from Peter O'Toole, who thinks he's Jesus.

ANIMATED APRIL

I spent most every Friday and/or Saturday night of my high school years hollering obscenities at midnight screenings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I'd have traded any number of Time Warps, however, to have just one weekend of these two hand-drawn creations back to back. American Pop, Ralph Bakshi's fantasia of 20th century music, and Heavy Metal, Gerald Potterton's wild anthology of interplanetary evils set to a killer soundtrack, surely played double bills back in '81 when they came out within six months of each other. But I was 11 going on 12 then and didn't see either flick for a few more years. Time to do this up right.

INTERNATIONAL MAY

Pairings for this topic are as abundant as spots on the globe. I threaded two possible needles: 1) a study in subtly savage class warfare, Renoir's The Rules of the Game vs. Buñuel's The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie; or 2) a comparison of cinematic ménages à trois, leading with Truffaut's Jules et Jim ('62), with Oskar Werner and Henri Serre falling madly for Jeanne Moreau (who wouldn't?), followed by Y Tu Mamá También, Alfonso Cuarón's muy sexy, naturalistic road movie with Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal as teenagers captivated by an older woman. FYI: I always select the sexier option.

JUNE PRIDE

You might be surprised not to see the divine and profound Hedwig and the Angry Inch in this mix. I'm surprised how easy it was for me to set it aside and select two marvels I haven't seen in far too long, both rightly canonized in the annals of lesbian cinema. Bound ('96) is a dazzling debut from the Wachowskis, LGBTQ+ icons for more than just their movie-making; the tension between Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon makes the screen crack, then melt. Heavenly Creatures ('94) wasn't Peter Jackson's first — but his heartbreakingly surreal film did introduce us to Kate Winslet and Melanie Lynskey.

JULY ANGLOPHILIA

Considered starting 2025 with this twofer, to cheer Oasis's return after nearly two decades away. But the reconciled Gallaghers aren't due on UK stages until summer, much later here in the US. So let's ramp up our excitement optimally with one of the band's best concert mementos, Familiar to Millions ('00), right after we get (re)schooled in Britpop history via Live Forever ('03), John Dower's essential survey of that seminal scene. Alternatives include Lord Don't Slow Me Down, recounting the Don't Believe the Truth Tour of 2005, or Mat Whitecross's excellent 2016 examination Oasis: Supersonic. 

ART(OR IS IT?)BY AUGUST

When this fantasy film forum began five years ago, as BenFest, Orson Welles's incomparable F for Fake was slotted as a prominent must-see. It remains a constant in my life, one of those rare movies I can simply listen to and still enjoy immensely. My Top 5 is ever-changing but F for Fake never falls off the list. Yet five years later I still haven't indulged the pleasure of screening it for ... well, anyone. That will be remedied before BonFest turns 56. A fascinating, fiendishly edited essay film about art and forgery and lying liars, it's paired with Lasse Hallström's The Hoax ('06), dramatizing the same events.

SEPTEMBER AUTEURS

Where else would this conclude but with my favorite director, Robert Altman? The overriding reason I'm (re)launching this series with plans to screen one of his large-ensemble masterworks — the ultimate time capsule Nashville (’75), absorbing even if you loathe country music — is because Sam and his budding cineaste pal Noah have expressed interest in seeing it asap. Second feature: the other music-infused movie Altman named after a city, his hometown Kansas City (’96). It’s his authentic take on a ‘30s crime flick, starring Jennifer Jason Leigh, Miranda Richardson, the late great Harry Belafonte and a remarkable array of renown jazz cats.