Author: thehorsesheadblog

#771) Cicero March (1966)

#771) Cicero March (1966)

Filmed by Mike Shea and Mike Gray

Class of 2013

In the summer of 1965, Civl Rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., activist James Bevel, and Chicago teacher Al Raby joined forces to create the Chicago Freedom Movement (CFM) in an effort to end racial discrimination practices in Chicago’s housing, education, and employment systems. The CFM’s non-violent marches were met with extreme hostility from Chicago’s predominantly White population, with Dr. King calling the attacks on these marches worse than similar altercations he had experienced in the south. Following a particularly violent march in July 1966, Dr. King met with Chicago city leaders the following month and reached an agreement for the city to enforce desegregation and open-housing laws, on the condition that King not attend a planned march in the all-White suburb of Cicero that September. Although the CFM withdrew their plans for the Cicero march, the Chicago branch of the Congress on Racial Equality (CORE), unhappy with King’s agreement with the city, didn’t back down. On Sunday September 4th, 1966, CORE Chicago chapter leader Robert Lucas led 250 protesters on a march through Cicero, where they were met by escalating jeers from the White citizens. Among the protestors were filmmakers Mike Shea and Mike Gray of The Film Group, capturing the chaos of the day cinema verité style with a single camera. “Cicero March” is the only known footage documenting what happened that day, an event that inched America closer to the Civil Rights Act of 1968 (aka the Fair Housing Act).

In a brief eight minutes, “Cicero March” puts you in the middle of the proceedings, watching the seething racism of the White citizens, the struggles of the Black marchers to keep the peace, and the presence of countless police officers reach their natural boiling point. “Cicero March” is an unflinching account of an oft-overlooked chapter in Civil Rights history, giving you a true sense of what it must have been like to be there. As unsettling as it is watching this racist vitriol spewed in real time (and recognizing how little has changed in 60 years), I’m glad the NFR has found a place for “Cicero March” and the Cicero marchers among its ranks.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is a recap of the events leading to the march, and includes an essay by Chicago Film Archives founder Nancy Watrous.

Everybody Gets One: Founded by Mike Gray and Jim Dennett in 1964, The Film Group spent most of its decade-long existence specializing in local TV commercials and industrial shorts. There was the occasional dabble with something more experimental or au courant, and the Cicero march of 1966 was seen by the Film Group as an opportunity to get more documentary experience between gigs. Gray brought along The Film Group’s recently-hired photographer Mike Shea to the march, where Shea handled the film camera while Gray recorded sound.

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar nod for “Cicero March”. For the record, the 1966 Oscar for Best Documentary Short went to the more high-profile “A Year Toward Tomorrow”, narrated by Paul Newman and championing the recently founded Volunteers in Service to America (now known as AmeriCorps VISTA).

Legacy 

  • Immediately after the march, Shea and Gray returned to The Film Group and gave the footage to their intern/editor Jay Litvin. Though initially shelved, “Cicero March”, was later incorporated into a seven part educational series by the Film Group called “The Urban Crisis and the New Militants”, consisting primarily of footage shot during the 1968 Democratic Convention riots. Following the Film Group’s closure in 1973, “Cicero March” (and most of The Film Group’s library) was donated to the Chicago Public Library’s film collection. 
  • In 2005, a print of “Cicero March” was donated to the Chicago Film Archives by Film Group member William Cottle, and was preserved by the Archives with grants from the National Film Preservation Foundation. After being nominated for NFR consideration by the Archives in 2006 and 2008, third time was the charm for “Cicero March” in 2013, shortly after the death of Mike Gray that April.
  • Of the Film Group group, Mike Gray seems to have had the most prolific career, most notably co-writing the screenplay for 1979’s “The China Syndrome”. We’ll see more of Mike Gray and The Film Group went I get around to covering their other NFR entry: “The Murder of Fred Hampton”.

#770) Chicana (1979)

#770) Chicana (1979)

OR “Days of Bread and Roses”

Directed by Sylvia Morales

Written by Anna Nieto-Gómez

Class of 2021

As of this writing, you can watch “Chicana” on the Internet Archive.

The Plot: As the first organized Chicana movement gives way to a new generation, Sylvia Morales takes a look back on centuries of Latinas and their struggles in “Chicana”. Narrated by actor Carmen Zapata, “Chicana” is a celebration and examination of Latina women throughout history. Among them: the Great Mother of pre-Aztec culture, La Malinche’s intermediary work with the Spanish conquistadors, Josefa Ortiz de Domínguez’s support for the Mexican War of Independence, Emma Tenayuca leading the 1938 San Antonio pecan shellers strike, and many many more. Through paintings and poems, sights and sounds, “Chicana” highlights the hardships, the successes, and the ongoing legacy of these important women, as well as the modern-era women who follow in their footsteps.

Why It Matters: The NFR’s lengthy write-up on “Chicana” calls the film “a brilliant and pioneering feminist Latina critique”, chronicling the film’s production and subsequent restoration at UCLA.

But Does It Really?: As an NFR entry, “Chicana” ticks off a lot of boxes: a documentary short about a historically marginalized group made by a person of color with a UCLA connection; that’s a bingo. On its own merits, “Chicana” is an engaging history lesson, shining a light on women I’m embarrassed to admit I knew nothing about. While there is a bit of homework that needs to be done to fully appreciate this film, it’s a worthwhile viewing experience worthy of its NFR status. Plus, anyone who can effectively streamline 2000 years of Chicana history into 22 minutes deserves all the recognition they can get.

Everybody Gets One: While studying film at UCLA, Sylvia Morales got a job as a camera operator at KABC, which parlayed into work producing a series of documentary specials for the station. Around the same time, Morales took a Chicano Studies course taught by Anna Nieto-Gómez, which included a historical slide show of Mexican women. Surprised by how many of these women she had never heard of, Morales started doing additional research on her own film about Mexican women which became “Chicana” (with narration written by Nieto-Gómez).

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar nod for “Chicana”, though Sylvia Morales would receive an Emmy nomination in the 1990s for the documentary series “A Century of Women”. For the record: the 1979 Oscar for Documentary Short Subject was won by a film that wouldn’t be too out of place in the NFR: Saul J. Turell’s “Paul Robeson: Tribute to an Artist”.

Other notes 

  • Our narrator is Carmen Zapata, one of those actors who never became a big-name star, but worked steadily in film, TV and theater for 50 years. Zapata also collaborated with a number of Hispanic actor organizations, including co-founding the Screen Actors Guild Ethnic Minority Committee. Even without seeing her, you can sense how seriously Zapata is taking her narrating duties, treating each subject with compassion and reverence. Currently, Ms. Zapata has one other NFR appearance: a brief cameo as the mother of the bride in “Boulevard Nights”. 
  • Shout out to Carmen Moreno, who composed the film’s score and plays the guitar throughout. Thanks to her upbeat score during the opening credits, I love this movie already, and we’re only two minutes in!
  • “Chicana” begins with the “nurturing woman” stereotype that generations of Mexican women have been expected to follow. This explanation is spoken during a shot of a woman toilet-training a child, which tells you what this movie thinks of that patriarchal nonsense.
  • My main takeaway from this movie was the dichotomy of how women are treated not just in Mexican culture, but across endless eras and societies. We simultaneously deify and condemn women for their mere existence. Heavy stuff, but it’s important to contemplate these big ideas, and I appreciate a film like “Chicana” for illustrating all this through a historical lens.
  • This whole post could be me talking about the various research rabbit holes I went down learning about the women highlighted in the film. As you can imagine, “Chicana” can only touch upon each of its subjects for a few fleeting moments, but I encourage you to look up any of these women whose stories pique your interest. One that definitely got my attention was La Malinche, the Nahua woman who, in addition to her aforementioned work as intermediary to Hernán Cortés, was enslaved by the Spanish conquistadors and bore Cortés a son, one of the first Mesitzos. While this film paints La Malinche in a positive light, she’s a bit controversial in Mexican history, with the argument that she “betrayed” the indigenous people of Mexico. That is some thin ice we’re skating on, but pivotal in the history of Mexican culture.
  • Catholics. Why is it always Catholics? The Spanish conquistadors of the 1500s brought Catholicism with them to the new world, and the religion continues to be a major factor in Mexican culture (according to their 2020 census, 78% of Mexico’s population identify as Catholic). Among the many unsung heroes depicted in this film is Juana Inés de la Cruz, a nun who wrote in the late 1600s advocating for women’s rights. Although this film implies that Sor Juana’s writings were burnt by a repressive church, that is most likely apocryphal. 
  • Since the film’s release almost 50 years ago, new information about many of these women have come to light. For example, labor organizer Lucia Gonzalez Parsons (aka Lucy Parsons) may not have been of Mexican descent. Information about her early years is spotty, and there are contradicting reports regarding her ethnic heritage (she was most likely African-American). Still, it’s nice to see her included in this historical line-up of important women.
  • Another figure I found interesting was Valentina Ramirez, who disguised herself as a man to fight in the Mexican Revolution, with modern historians giving her the nickname “The Mexican Mulan”. And yes, the hot sauce is named after her.
  • Our film ends by bringing us to the present (1979) with Morales’ brief interviews with activists Dolores Huerta, Alicia Escalante, and Francisca Flores, all of whom stress that the struggle and the fight for women’s rights continue. The film is bookended by a quote from poet James Oppenheim regarding the 1910s women’s suffrage movement: “Hearts starve as well as bodies, give us bread but give us roses.”

Legacy 

  • Sylvia Morales continues to write and direct for film and TV, has penned several books about filmmaking and Mexican history, and has taught film classes at USC. Morales’ most recent film is “A Crushing Love”, a sequel to “Chicana” focusing on the work-life balance of five Chicana activists (including Dolores Huerta and Alicia Escalante from this film).

#769) Chelsea Girls (1966)

“…Timmonsville…Whitmire…Winnsboro…Woodruff…York.”

Jesus, that took forever. Okay, what’s next?

#769) Chelsea Girls (1966)

OR “One Film, Two Film, Red Film, Blue Film”

Directed by Andy Warhol and Paul Morrissey

Written by Warhol and Ronald Tavel

Class of 2024

The Plot: Filmed at the iconic bohemian hotel in Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood, “Chelsea Girls” is twelve segments, each presented in one uncut 30 minute take, showcasing life in the Hotel Chelsea as depicted by a cast of Andy Warhol’s “Superstars”. Adding to Warhol’s trademark experimentation, the segments are projected side-by-side, with sequences overlapping each other in an attempt to capture the spontaneity and volatility of an artist community. But if you really want to know what this film is about, I would describe it as 194 minutes of my life I’m never getting back. Strap in kids, this one’s a doozy.

Why It Matters: The NFR claims that the film (which they call “The Chelsea Girls”) “encapsulates everything that makes a Warhol a ‘Warhol’”, praising it as “a time capsule of a downtown New York art scene that is long gone but not forgotten.”

But Does It Really?: Given the size of his pop culture footprint, I like that Andy Warhol has two films on the Registry…in theory. In practice, watching “Chelsea Girls” was one of the most irritating, unpleasant viewing experiences I’ve had for this blog. Nothing about this film worked for me: not the acting, not the scenarios, even the experimental juxtaposition wore thin on me, ultimately coming across as more “gimmicky” than anything else. In my previous Warhol post, I distilled his art down to the phrase “look closer”. If we apply this mantra to “Chelsea Girls”, I have looked closer at Warhol’s scene in its prime, and I hate it with a burning passion. I will allow “Chelsea Girls” on the NFR, but unless you’re really into Warhol and that era of pop art, you can skip this one.

Everybody Gets One: Co-director Paul Morrissey had already made a name for himself as a filmmaker and operator of the Exit Gallery cinematheque in the East Village when he met Andy Warhol in 1965. Impressed with his work, Warhol invited Morrissey  to collaborate with him on his film “Space”, the first of 11 films Morrissey made with Warhol at The Factory. Morrissey continued making low-budget films on his own in the ‘70s and ‘80s, and in his later years resented how much credit Warhol took for their collaborations. Less is known about this film’s co-writer Ronald Tavel, who spent most of his career as an Off-Broadway playwright specializing in what became known as “Theatre of the Ridiculous”.

Title Track: Since the film has no opening or closing credits, it is alternatively known in different write-ups and reviews as “Chelsea Girls” and “The Chelsea Girls”. Much like my “20/Twenty Feet from Stardom” conundrum, I’ve made my choice, ditched the “The” and gone with “Chelsea Girls”. It’s cleaner.

Other notes 

  • The Hotel Chelsea opened as a co-op in 1884, and from the onset attracted artists as tenants due to its proximity to several theaters in the Chelsea neighborhood. By the early 1960s, the building had been converted into an apartment hotel (with its initial 100 rooms broken up into almost 400), and like its surrounding neighborhood, had fallen on hard times. It was around this time that the hotel started renting rooms to several artists associated with Warhol’s Factory, as well as rock stars not allowed to stay at other hotels. In 1966, a few months before “Chelsea Girls” started filming, the Hotel Chelsea was named a historic New York landmark.
  • Andy Warhol conceived of what became “Chelsea Girls” in the summer of 1966. Warhol’s initial idea was a film split down the middle, with “all black on one side and all white on the other.” This concept would evolve into a more figurative interpretation in the final film, with the tone of each segment alternating between “lighter” and “darker”. Although Warhol had a specific order the segments would play in, projectionists were allowed to switch the audio from one to another at will, making each viewing of “Chelsea Girls” a unique experience.
  • In an attempt to streamline these notes, we are pairing up the film segments that spent most of their screen time in my viewing side by side. Titles are listed as they appeared on the screen from left to right.

Father Ondine and Ingrid/Nico in Kitchen

  • On your left is actor Ondine claiming to be a priest while having an inappropriate conversation with Ingrid Superstar. On your right is German supermodel Nico fixing her hair in her kitchen while spending time with her son Gerard. We are off and running with what to expect from this film, with your initial choices being either grating, amateur improv or mundane minutiae with no sound. Is there a third choice?
  • The sound in this film is terrible. I doubt that anyone is miked, which means unless you project, you sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.
  • How long does it take to clip your bangs and brush your hair? Is she Marcia Brady?
  • I didn’t realize going in that each segment runs about 30 minutes, so you can imagine my frustration as both segments prattled on long after I had lost interest. Surely, these reels will run out of film, right? I found the Ondine & Ingrid sequence particularly annoying, and was relieved when it finally ended.

Boys in Bed/Brigid Holds Court

  • Things get slightly more interesting as Ed Hood and Rene Ricard lie in a presumed post-coital position in bed on the left, while Warhol favorite Brigid Berlin shoots up and makes phone calls on the right.
  • If nothing else, “Boys in Bed” gives us some light bondage and male nudity courtesy of Rene Ricard. Apparently Ricard was one of the few actors in the movie who actually lived in the Hotel Chelsea at the time of filming.
  • Brigid Berlin looks like a cross between Shelley Winters, Sandy Toksvig, and Large Marge. Yeah, that’s probably mean-spirited, but I have to take out my frustrations on this movie somehow. 
  • I suspect I would hate everyone in this movie. No, I will not elaborate.

Hanoi Hannah and Guests/Hanoi Hannah

  • At this point in the film, I started pretending that each of these segments was happening in real time at different parts of the hotel, like an experimental episode of “24”. This theory was immediately squashed with the joint appearances of Hanoi Hannah (Mary Woronov). Both the left and the right segments involve Hannah in her room with fellow superstar International Velvet; smoking, talking, fighting, dictating fake bulletins to American soldiers in Vietnam. Ya know, girl stuff.
  • I don’t know what the pecking order was among Warhol’s superstars, but Mary Woronov was clearly a favorite. Not only does she appear in at least four of these segments, she gets several extended close-ups as the camera stays tight on her face. I get it: with her stern eyebrows and striking features, Woronov always looks like she’s calculating or plotting, which is fun to project onto as an audience member. 
  • Of the actors in this movie, Mary Woronov would have the most prominent post-Warhol acting career, appearing in many a B picture and indie movie, most notably the 1982 black comedy “Eating Raoul”. She also shows up in an episode of “Faerie Tale Theatre”, which is where I know her from.

Marie Mencken [sic]/Mario Sings Two Songs

  • After the film takes a breather with an organic halfway point, we are back up and running with filmmaker Marie Menken holding court on the left and a return for the Boys in Bed on the right.
  • The Marie Menken episode is interesting because it’s the first of four segments filmed in color! And if the name Marie Menken sounds familiar, she is a fellow NFR filmmaker (see “Glimpse of the Garden”). My one question about her: Why is she so angry in this? Every time I look at the left side I see her yelling at someone in the room and brandishing a whip. Is this what life was like for her and her husband?
  • The Boys in Bed get a visit from drag performer Mario Montez, who as promised sings two songs from the Irving Berlin musical “Annie Get Your Gun”:  “They Say It’s Wonderful” and “I Got the Sun in the Morning”. As Montez finished the second number, I assumed that meant the segment would end. 20 minutes later my assumption turned into a desperate prayer.

Color Lights on Cast/Eric Says All

  • It’s easy to understand how these two got paired together: they’re both color film of lighting tests conducted in, I presume, Andy Warhol’s studio. An assemblage of superstars make up the tests on the left while Eric Emerson gives a weird, extended monologue on the right. 
  • Most of the lighting involves the very patriotic combination of red, white, and blue. There are a few moments when all three colors are flashed in quick succession, making it look like the cops have pulled this film over.
  • With his abundant hair and intense performance, mixed with the lighting effects, Eric looks like he’s about to start Willy Wonka’s “There’s no earthly way of knowing” monologue. What is this, a freakout?
  • The sad thing is, before watching “Chelsea Girls”, I had a favorable opinion of Andy Warhol. I wish someone had convinced him to play all 12 of these at once so that I could get this over with in 30 minutes.

Nico Crying/Pope Ondine

  • We end with the weirdest bookend ever. Nico and Ondine return, only now they’ve switched places: Nico on the left (and in color) quietly crying while light effects project on her face, and Ondine on the right giving an extended monologue about how he has become the new Pope.
  • This combination was even worse the second time around, because this time I knew what to expect. Nico just stands there without saying anything, while Ondine rages on about whatever the hell he’s talking about. This led to me becoming increasingly hostile towards the movie as there seemed to be no end in sight.
  • For the curious/masochistic, you can view the muted or partially muted sections of the film online: Nico in Kitchen, Brigid Holds Court, Hanoi Hannah and Guests, Hanoi Hannah, Marie Mencken, Mario Sings Two Songs, and Nico Crying.
  • One final thing worth noting: As soon as this film ended (abruptly, with no credits), I did something I don’t think I’ve ever done while watching a movie for this blog: I booed. I booed this move loud and long and clear. I hated “Chelsea Girls” more than I can describe in 2000 words, but no matter what I write about it here, I know that I can never hurt it as much as it hurt me.

Legacy 

  • After a successful run at the Film-Makers’ Cinematheque in late 1966, “Chelsea Girls” became the first “underground” movie to play a wide release (though primarily through smaller arthouses across the country). Despite mixed critical reception and being banned in Boston and Chicago, “Chelsea Girls” was Andy Warhol’s first financial success as a filmmaker. 
  • “Chelsea Girls” helped propel the popularity of the Hotel Chelsea, as did the presence of one of the hotel’s most famous residents: Bob Dylan. The freeform lifestyle depicted in this movie came to an end in the 1970s following a series of negative incidents in the hotel, including the tragic murder of musician Nancy Spungen by her boyfriend Sid Vicious in 1978. Throughout the decades the Hotel Chelsea has changed owners, and in 2022 completed its conversion to a luxury hotel, mirroring the gentrification of the Chelsea neighborhood.
  • I know I mentioned this in my “Empire” post, but it’s worth repeating: Andy Warhol made a guest appearance on a 1985 episode of “The Love Boat” where he reunites with a former Superstar played by Marion “Happy Days” Ross. God help me if “White Giraffe” ever makes the NFR.

#768) Kannapolis, N.C. (1941)

#768) Kannapolis, N.C. (1941)

OR “Cannon Films”

Filmed by H. Lee Waters

Class of 2004

The Plot: From 1936 to 1942, photographer H. Lee Waters traveled across the Carolinas (plus briefly to Virginia and Tennessee) to film his “Movies of Local People” series. The series was exactly what it sounds like: footage of the people in a local town, screened at their local movie theater, giving these ordinary people the rare opportunity to see themselves on the big screen. Of the hundreds of communities Waters documented in his series, the NFR selected “Kannapolis, N.C.” to represent his work. Spread out over three reels totaling over two hours of footage, “Kannapolis” highlights the people and communities of this suburb of North Carolina’s Charlotte metropolitan area, including extensive footage of its Black neighborhood.

Why It Matters: The NFR gives a run-down of the kind of “town portrait” this film represents, and mentions H. Lee Waters “slyly” including plenty of kids in his films to increase theater attendance.

But Does It Really?: Although I recently expressed some “home movie fatigue” on this blog, I’m happy I was able to rally for “Kannapolis, N.C.” Obviously something like “Kannapolis” was never meant to be analyzed over 80 years later as a historical document, but Waters’ footage paints a warm portrait of a small town in a way that only film can. We not only see what people looked like back then, but how they behaved and interacted with each other. “Kannapolis” is on the NFR not only to represent the hundreds of films made by H. Lee Waters, but also to preserve this loving documentation of a bygone era.

Shout Outs: Reel 2 opens with a family posing next to a cardboard cutout of Popeye…for some reason. 

Everybody Gets One: Herbert Lee Waters made his living as a studio photographer in Lexington, North Carolina, operating the same studio on Main Street for over 60 years. In 1936, needing additional income for his family in the midst of the Depression, Waters took his 16mm camera and projector and started a six year journey across four states to film his “Movies of Local People” series. Waters would film people and events in these communities, and screen them at the town’s movie theater before the main feature, earning a cut of ticket sales as well as contributions from local businesses who bought advertising space within the films. In total, Waters visited 118 communities and produced over 250 films. And for the record, Waters would only travel to these communities during the week, always coming home to Lexington on the weekends to be with his wife and children.

Wow, That’s Dated: The local business highlighted throughout “Kannapolis, N.C.” is Montgomery Ward, the largest U.S. retail store at the time. Although the company ceased operation in 2001, it was revived in 2004 and still exists solely as an online retailer.

Other notes 

  • Like many towns of the era, Kannapolis began life as a mill village for a nearby textile factory, in this case the Cannon Mills Company, which at one point was the world’s largest manufacturer of towels and bed sheets. Originally dubbed Cannon City by the townspeople, the name Cannapolis caught on, and by 1906 was adopted as the official name (though Cannon Mills founder J. W. Cannon insisted on it being spelled with a K to differentiate it from his company’s other mill town in nearby Concord).
  • About halfway through his travels, Waters had made enough money to occasionally film in color! Reel 1 of “Kannapolis, N.C.” is filmed in glorious Kodachrome, which for our purposes here really enriches the viewing experience. Commercial use color film was still a rarity in the early 1940s, and I’m sure Waters’ color footage went over like gangbusters at many a local screening. 
  • A majority of the “Kannapolis” footage is of local children, which as suggested by the NFR write-up was strategic on Waters’ part to get families at his screenings: why sell one movie ticket when you can sell four or more? Children playing games and behaving naturally is a staple of several amateur films in the NFR, and “Kannapolis” is no exception. We even get some shots of teenage girls playing baseball, which given the ‘40s setting has a very “League of Their Own” vibe to it.
  • Yes, two hours of silent amateur footage with no plot is a lot to sit through, but compared to five hours of the “Bohulano Family Film Collection” and seven hours of the “Solomon Sir Jones Films”, this was a piece of cake. The nice thing about having this much footage is that you get a much more realistic sense of how people behaved back then. There’s a point where you stop posing/mugging for the camera and start to act more naturally.
  • If any of the kids in this movie are still alive, they would be in their 90s today.
  • With its charming look at children in a Southern town, “Kannapolis” is reminiscent of another Depression-era film series in the NFR: “The Kidnappers Foil”. Granted “Kannapolis” lacks the sheer entertainment value of “Kidnappers”, but then again what movie doesn’t by comparison?
  • The Kannapolis Montgomery Ward store really got their money’s worth, with Waters extensively featuring their showrooms and products. You can get a skirt for 49 cents (about $11 today)!
  • A trademark of the “Movies of Local People” series was Waters’ experimental shots, including reverse film (achieved by placing the camera upside down and then splicing the film back into the reel right-side up). The reverse shots are typically reserved for kids jumping off of small ledges or mounds, making them appear to fly up in the air. We also get some fun timelapse shots, including one of cars driving on Main Street that looks like the ‘40s prequel to “Koyaanisqatsi”. 
  • We’re also treated to an unintentional color remake of “Employees Leaving the Lumière Factory”, with footage of employees leaving what I assume is the Cannon Mills factory. As best I can tell, no one is smuggling towels out of the building. I guess that’s more of a hotel thing. 
  • Reels 2 & 3 are in black and white, which definitely changes the viewing experience. What started as a feeling of being transported to time and place now feels more removed. The black and white mixed with the rural setting gives everything a Dust Bowl vibe. It’s like a more upbeat “The Last Picture Show”.
  • We are treated to a Randolph Scott double feature in this film. At different points the marquee of the Gem Theatre is promoting screenings of Scott’s 1940 film “When the Daltons Rode” with Brian Donlevy and 1941’s “Belle Starr” with Gene Tierney. Side note: As of this writing the Gem Theatre is still in operation, albeit the rebuilt theater after the original was destroyed in a fire shortly after the filming of “Kannapolis”.
  • In 1941, Kannapolis had a population of roughly 8500 people, and I think Waters was determined to film every single person. Throughout the film Waters sprinkles in quick montages of different people smiling for the camera (though I appreciate how many pedestrians look at the camera with an appropriate amount of skepticism). There’s also a point where I’m pretty sure we get repeat shots of the same kids from earlier.
  • The most interesting moment in the film for me was a group of school children at a flag raising ceremony (with 48 stars), in which the children give the flag the Bellamy salute. This was the common flag salute of the time, in which the arm is extended upwards with the palm down, followed by the palm being turned upwards; that last move being the only differentiation between the Bellamy salute and another infinitely more famous upward arm salute. The Bellamy salute was officially removed as part of the Pledge of Allegiance by Congress in 1942 for obvious reasons.
  • Reel 3 begins by treading the same water as the previous two reels (kids posing for the camera, etc.), but then we get something that has only appeared sporadically in this film so far: people of color. The footage of Kannapolis’s Black neighborhood is very similar to the footage of the White neighborhoods, with children playing and families with friendly smiles. There’s a whole conversation that could happen here regarding the effects of segregation in these towns, but that’s a much bigger can of worms than can be opened up here, but important to acknowledge nevertheless
  • With a runtime of over two hours, I assume these three reels weren’t shown together in one screening. That’s just too much time to sit through footage of your friends and neighbors before your main feature. We want to see “Western Union” or “Paris Calling”!

Legacy 

  • Following his “Movies of Local People” series, Waters returned home to his family in Lexington and continued operating his photography studio. Towards the end of his life, Waters began donating his films and related documents to Duke University, where they are still held and preserved. H. Lee Waters died in 1997 at age 95.
  • Kannapolis continued being primarily a textile town until the closing of the Cannon factory in 2003. The former factory site is now the home of the North Carolina Research Campus, one of the leading medical research centers in the country.
  • Notable people born in Kannapolis include funk singer George Clinton, and NASCAR legends Dale Earnhardt Sr. & Jr. (along with several other members of the Earnhardt family). Fun Fact: George Clinton was born the year “Kannapolis N.C.” was filmed, so one of those babies may be George in his NFR debut (and if not, he still has “House Party”).
  • Side note: Shortly after viewing this film, I actually drove through Kannapolis! Granted, I stayed on I-85 the whole time, so I didn’t spend any real time in Kannapolis, but I was there. My main takeaway was that every billboard was either for a personal injury firm or a Cracker Barrel. What is going on over there?

Further Viewing: “The Cameraman Has Visited Our Town”, a 1989 documentary short by Tom Whiteside about H. Lee Waters and his films, including footage from many of the “Local People” series, plus an interview with Waters himself! A fascinating watch, although five minutes of the short is our narrator listing off every community Waters filmed. “Albemarle…Angier…Apex…Asheboro…Belmont…”

“…Wadesboro…Wake Forest…Warrenton…Winston-Salem. In South Carolina: Blacksburg… Bishopville…Camden…”

#767) Hours for Jerome – Parts 1 & 2 (1982)

#767) Hours for Jerome – Parts 1 & 2 (1982)

OR “A Man for All Seasons”

Directed by Nathaniel Dorsky

Class of 2012

Okay, so here’s the deal with “Hours for Jerome”: Filmmaker Nathaniel Dorsky has remained adamant that “Hours” only be viewed on film in a theater at its proper frame rate, and that the film never be digitally uploaded anywhere. This, of course, makes viewing “Hours” very difficult for anyone unable to attend a screening, making it one of the hardest NFR movies to cross off your list. Despite Mr. Dorsky’s wishes, the film has recently made its way online. After some initial hesitation, I gave in and watched the film’s digital upload. Out of respect for Nathaniel Dorsky, I will not be including the link to where I found the film, and I encourage you to see “Hours” as intended at an official screening. Check out more information at Nathaniel Dorsky’s official website.

Mr. Dorsky, on the off chance you’re reading this, please excuse me. Or don’t, I can’t tell you what to do.

The Plot: Experimental filmmaker Nathaniel Dorsky turns his Bolex camera on his partner Jerome Hiler in “Hours for Jerome”. Filmed in both Manhattan and Lake Owassa, New Jersey (where Dorsky and Hiler lived at the time), “Hours” is akin to a moving photo album; a seemingly random montage of the people, places, and special occasions that make up Jerome’s life, with Nathaniel experimenting with time-lapse footage and assorted lenses. Both parts clock in at about 20 minutes: Part 1 focusing on life during spring and summer, Part 2 on fall and winter.

Why It Matters: The NFR write-up is primarily a rehash of Nathaniel Dorsky and his filmmaking technique. The film itself is described as his “personal devotional” that is “an arrangement of images, energies and illuminations.”

But Does It Really?: Despite not watching the film as its creator intended, I liked “Hours for Jerome”. The film is a vacation to time and space, a “simpler” time when we weren’t recording everything 24/7. Dorsky successfully balances the familiar and unfamiliar, taking what is seemingly someone’s home movies and throwing in enough experimental elements to keep things interesting. I can give “Hours for Jerome” a pass in the NFR for representing Nathaniel Dorsky’s extensive filmography, as well as his (god willing) generous forgiveness towards those of us who watched this film online.

Everybody Gets One: Nathaniel Dorsky first dipped his toe into filmmaking growing up in Milburn, New Jersey, filming nature shorts inspired by the “True Life Adventures” series. While studying film at NYU, Dorsky joined the local experimental film scene at the Film-Makers’ Cooperative, where he met fellow filmmaker and his future partner, Jerome Hiler. The couple moved to Lake Owassa, New Jersey in 1966, where Dorsky filmed footage of Jerome and their home life from 1966 through 1970. After a move to San Francisco and a sabbatical from filmmaking for most of the 1970s, Dorsky began editing the Lake Owassa/Manhattan footage in 1980, completing “Hours of Jerome” in 1982.

Title Track: The title is a reference to “Book of Hours”, defined by the NFR listing as “a medieval series of devotional prayers recited at eight-hour intervals throughout the day.” Side Note: In my tangent rabbit hole on prayer research, I learned there is a St. Jerome who, appropriately enough for our purposes here, is the patron saint of libraries and librarians. Blessed St. Jerome, please watch over Dr. Carla Hayden, and let her successor be someone who has actually stepped foot inside a library before. 

Seriously, Oscars?: No Oscar love for “Jerome” or any of Nathaniel Dorsky’s filmography, though in 1968 he won an Emmy as the art photographer of the CBS News documentary “Gauguin in Tahiti: The Search for Paradise”.

Other notes 

  • Like many of Dorsky’s films, “Hours for Jerome” was shot on a 16mm Bolex camera. Dorsky’s films are silent, meaning they can be projected at a rate of 18 frames per second (as opposed to sound film’s 24 frames per second). Dorsky insists that his films be screened at 18 fps because it makes the image appear more abstract, something that gets lost in digital translation.
  • I watched this not too long after my viewing of “Koyaanisqatsi”, and there’s definitely a connection between these two films: lots of nature shots and experimental timelapse photography with seemingly no rhyme or reason. In fact, this post was very close to being subtitled “Boyaanisqatsi”, but I figured I’ve insulted Mr. Dorsky enough already.
  • Another NFR movie this film reminded me of was Andy Warhol’s “Empire”, except Dorsky only films the Empire State Building for a few fleeting shots and it’s not a fan-made recreation I duped myself into watching. Yes, I’m still bitter about that almost five years later.
  • Interesting to see night shots before cameras could really do night shots. Either Nathaniel films lightning striking around Manhattan during a summer storm or he’s just futzing with his lighting equipment. 
  • Speaking of Manhattan: Hey, there’s a couple shots where Nathaniel’s peepin’ on his neighbors! Ethics and consent issues aside, this is pretty much the only way you can get people to behave naturally on-camera, giving us in the audience a taste of the voyeuristic qualities you need to be an effective filmmaker.
  • Having recently moved to the east coast, this film is serving as my primer for seasons. I’ve heard of this “autumn” you speak of, but have never actually witnessed it; same goes for a winter with accumulated snow. We’ll see how this California boy handles all of that.
  • There’s only so much I can say about “Hours for Jerome” without it becoming a repetitive listing of “that shot was cool”, “hey, look at that”, etc. While I still feel a tinge guilty about how I viewed the film, I enjoyed “Hours” for what it was: observances and documentation of Nathaniel and Jerome’s life together. (Also, I will point out that I’m watching a majority of these films in a way their filmmakers did not intend; no matter how big my TV is it still isn’t a movie screen.) Despite Mr. Dorsky’s wishes, I still feel I experienced “Hours’ rather than simply watched it. I appreciated the quiet contemplation I was allowed while watching “Hours”, particularly my realization that when it comes to filmmaking, life is interesting enough by itself. Just point a camera and let it happen around you.

Legacy 

  • As of this writing, both Nathaniel Dorsky and Jerome Hiler are still making films:  Dorsky most recently completed a series called “Dreams Reveal a Weightless World”, and Hiler completed “Careless Passage” just last year. One noteworthy entry in Dorsky’s filmography is his “Arboretum Cycle” in 2017, filmed at the San Francisco Botanical Garden. Let the record show that I lived within walking distance of the Botanical Garden in 2017, and am only now learning about these films following my cross-country move. I will forever be kicking myself.
  • Once again, be sure to check out Nathaniel Dorsky’s official website and see if “Hours for Jerome” or any of his other films are screening near you.