The Horse's Head

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for “Kannapolis, N.C.” Obviously something like “Kannapolis” was never meant to be analyzed over 80 years later as a historical document, but Waters’ footage paints a warm portrait of a small town in a way that only film can.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.

• 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”!

• 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…”

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”.

December 27^th, 2000: The National Film Registry makes it an even 300 with 25 more movies. Almost a full quarter century later, I’ve covered all of them on this blog. Here’s my recap of the NFR inductees (sung a la Conan O’Brien) “in the year 2000…”:

• President McKinley Inauguration Footage (1901): “[W]ell, we still film presidential inaugurations, so that’s a cool thing.”
• The Land Beyond the Sunset (1912): “If the NFR can’t come up with a good defense [for this film’s induction], what hope do the rest of us have?”
• Regeneration (1915): “may only work as an academic viewing for the serious film buff, but it won’t be on the final.”
• Salome (1923): “a challenging watch, but it does represent Alla Nazimova”
• Peter Pan (1924): “[I]f I say, ‘I didn’t like “Peter Pan”’ out loud, another copy of a silent film somewhere drops dead.”
• The Fall of the House of Usher (1928): “a fascinating visual variation on the story’s themes”
• Dracula (1931): “You cannot think of Dracula or any other vampire without thinking of Bela Lugosi’s performance.”
• Little Caesar (1931): “the influence of [Edward G.] Robinson’s performance is still being felt today.”
• The Life of Emile Zola (1937): “an interesting watch, but its historical significance is primarily academic.”
• Love Finds Andy Hardy (1938): “an exasperating watch. I started to question if there’s a way the NFR can reverse their decision”
• Porky in Wackyland (1938): “a good reminder that cartoons shouldn’t always obey real-world physics and logic.”
• Why We Fight (1943-1945): “an indispensable account of [World War II] while it was in progress”
• The Living Desert (1953): “proof that you can take any footage and manipulate a narrative through editing and music”
• A Star is Born (1954): “any flaws this film possesses are instantly forgiven by Judy Garland’s performance.”
• Let’s All Go the Lobby (1957): “equals (and in some cases surpasses) the cultural importance of its fellow NFR entries”.
• The Tall T (1957): “more complex and morally ambiguous than other Westerns of the era”, “not one of my more memorable movie-watching experiences for this blog.”
• Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? (1957): “a few laugh-out-loud moments…but…the multiple dated references makes it all age poorly.”
• Five Easy Pieces (1970): “top-notch performances and [an] incisive screenplay, but it is definitely a movie of its time.”
• Multiple SIDosis (1970): “one very unique film and well worth a viewing”.
• Shaft (1971): “manages to still be a fun ride 50 years later”.
• Network (1976): “one of my favorite movies”, “continues to hold a mirror to what our world has become”
• Apocalypse Now (1979): “a one-of-a-kind movie” “Maybe the point is there is no point?”
• Koyaanisqatsi (1982): “the ultimate pattern-finding movie”, “an indelible influence on American filmmaking.”
• Sherman’s March (1986): “tows the line between fact and fiction quite effectively…but 2 ^1/2 hours of this?”
• Goodfellas (1990): “More like ‘Greatfellas’, am I right?”

Okay, now I’ve covered every NFR entry from the 20th century. Happy? Up next: 2001: An NFR Odyssey. Happy viewing, and keep taking care of each other.

Tony

Seriously, this is the photo the director wanted to name this film instead of a word. More on this later.

The Plot: The hardest thing I’ll ever have to write for this blog is a description of “Koyaanisqatsi”. The film is 86 minutes of wordless footage presented without context or narration, set to an invigorating Philip Glass score. The film begins with footage of the natural world, but quickly pivots to mankind destroying nature to create cities and skyscrapers. Through time-lapse, slow-motion, and any other camera trick you can think of, we witness humans in big American cities…existing: driving on the freeway, walking down a busy street, eating lunch, or simply looking into the camera. Director Godfrey Reggio purposefully avoids telling you what to take away from this movie, other than the translation of this film’s title: a Hopi word meaning “a crazy life”, “life in turmoil”, “life out of balance”, “life disintegrating”, and “a state of life that calls for another way of living”.

Why It Matters: The NFR calls the film “so lyrically unusual that it nearly defies description.” The write-up salutes director Reggio and composer Glass, and makes comparisons to fellow NFR entries “Manhatta” and “A Bronx Morning”.

But Does It Really?: While it took me a minute to get into “Koyaanisqatsi”, ultimately I dug it. We as humans are designed to search for patterns, and this is the ultimate pattern-finding movie. Each shot is so well composed and each visual so striking that it must mean something. My personal take was that this is a film about human destruction, of land and of ourselves. We are the life out of balance, and the film’s suggestion of our unsustainable world has only been proven more and more prescient in the last 40 years. “Koyaanisqatsi” may hit the “aesthetic significance” part of the NFR requisite harder than any other movie on the list, leaving an indelible influence on American filmmaking. 

Everybody Gets One: Godfrey Reggio’s filmmaking style makes a lot more sense once you learn that he spent 14 years taking a vow of silence training with the Catholic Christian Brotherhood. After becoming disillusioned with the monks, he focused on social activism, and was inspired to try filmmaking after seeing Luis Buñuel’s “Los Olvidados” (another “yeah, that scans” moment in my research). In the ‘70s he founded the Institute for Regional Education and collaborated with the ACLU on a public interest campaign about the invasion of privacy. During this production, Reggio met with cinematographer Ron Fricke, and the two started collaborating on a film after the campaign ended. Over the course of four years (with a few stops and starts when money ran out), Reggio and Fricke filmed anything and everything across 14 different states “without regard for message or political content.” 

Wow, That’s Dated: The modern city footage is a lovely slice of ‘80s corporate America, right before digital technology and home computers changed everything. And like the rest of America in the early ‘80s, “Koyaanisqatsi” has Pac-Man Fever! (Ms. Pac-Man to be specific).

Title Track: Godfrey Reggio didn’t want to give the film a title to avoid influencing anyone’s viewing experience, proposing the title be an image, specifically the J. R. Eyerman photo from Life magazine posted above. Once Reggio was told the title needed to be a word, he chose koyaanisqatsi because it “had no baggage culturally”. In perhaps the oddest title song we’ll ever get on this blog, the word koyaanisqatsi is sung throughout the movie by the Philip Glass Ensemble, with soloist Albert de Ruiter hitting those low, guttural notes. Side note: Although the Eyerman photo wasn’t used, there is a shot in the final film of an audience in a movie theater that is set up almost identically to that photo.

Seriously, Oscars?: There were a few critics organizations that gave “Koyaanisqatsi” prizes for Best Documentary or Best Score, but the film received zero recognition from the Academy. As of this writing, Philip Glass has gone 0 for 3 with his subsequent score nominations, and Godfrey Reggio has never been nominated. For the record: the 1983 Oscars gave Best Documentary Feature to Emile Ardolino’s “He Makes Me Feel Like Dancin’”. 

• Philip Glass had already been composing for orchestras, operas, theater, and even a few episodes of “Sesame Street” when he composed the score for “Koyaanisqatsi”. Glass is one of those composers whose style is so distinct and original that I can only describe this score as very…Philip Glass. Serving as the film’s only soundtrack, Glass’ score threads the needle of creating an emotional impact without dictating how the audience should feel. No easy task, and the result turns an already memorable film into an unforgettable one.
• Admittedly it took me a bit to get into this film. As I watched shot after shot of canyons, dunes, bat caves, and countless other representation of the four elements, I started to wonder if I was missing something. Was I supposed to get high before watching this? Once I stopped overthinking things and met the film where it was, things started to click. I particularly enjoyed the time lapse of clouds mixed with slow motion ocean waves. I see the correlation.
• After the film’s first movement, we proceed to my destruction thesis with nature being destroyed to make way for power plants, electrical infrastructure, and other manmade ways to harness our natural resources for our own use. We also get our first sightings of people, seen here relaxing on a beach located right next to a power plant.

• Guests of “Koyaanisqatsi” fly United Airlines! You’re flying the Friendly Skies! It’s very telling when all I see is a plane on a runway near a congested freeway and I immediately think “That must be LAX”. And I was right!

• As we move into the big cities I can see the “Manhatta” comparisons with the overhead shots of New York City skyscrapers. Shout out to Hillary Harris, whose 1975 film “Organism” similarly chronicled human behavior within the confines of Lower Manhattan, and got her hired as an additional cinematographer for this film’s New York sequences.
• What is it about human nature that we enjoy watching stuff blow up? I’m trying to focus on this movie’s themes and find myself distracted by its “When Buildings Collapse” segment. There is something oddly profound about watching something get destroyed.
• Tonight on “What’s Playing on Broadway Back Now”: Christopher Reeve in the Lanford Wilson play “Fifth of July”, which puts that shot’s production somewhere in fall 1980/winter 1981.
• In a weird way, I found a lot of the big city footage as beautiful as anything from the nature opening. Part of that is the shot compositions and film processing, which gives everything this attractive green glow, but part of that is also just watching things be. Those time-lapse shots of the freeway are gorgeous to watch, with the quick stop and start of blurry headlights evocative of fireflies. It’s like a dance.

• Speaking of compositions: This is the only movie I can think of where every shot could double as the movie’s DVD main menu loop.
• I like when this movie becomes an (un)intentional social experiment. It’s fascinating how many people will opt for the revolving doors when there is a perfectly functional manual door right next to them.
• Having recently moved out of the Bay Area, I was delighted to see footage of downtown San Francisco. There’s a couple shots of people entering a BART station (side note: those automatic turnstiles were only recently updated before I left) and we even get a time lapse ride along the Embarcadero Freeway, which was damaged in the 1989 earthquake and subsequently demolished. Ah, San Francisco, you were so beautiful before the techies moved in.

• My destruction thesis continues to be supported through the end of the movie, with EMTs and firefighters navigating busy city streets, and an extended shot of a rocket launching and exploding, perhaps the “container of ashes” that will fall from the sky according to the Hopi prophecy in the end credits.
• There’s a cacophony of TV soundbites during the end credits, and while hard to decipher, I definitely heard the “Price is Right” ding-ding-ding sound effect when you correctly guess a product’s retail value. If they had thrown in the “losing horn” music cue this movie would have been flawless.

• Outside of the Qatsi trilogy, Godfrey Reggio manages about one new film a decade. His most recent is 2023’s “Once Within a Time”, applying his experimental lens and global cautionary tales to the fantasy genre (though I get the feeling even that description is too limiting to the film).

• Though not his first film score, Philip Glass started to gain more recognition as a film composer thanks to “Koyaanisqatsi”. Glass would go on to score Godfrey Reggio’s subsequent films, as well as the films of Errol Morris and my personal favorite of his scores, Peter Weir’s “The Truman Show” (co-created with Burkhard Dallwitz and Wojciech Kilar).

• “Koyaanisqatsi” is one of those movies that people emulate without knowing it. Whenever you see artfully staged time-lapse footage with a minimalist yet sweeping score, odds are it can be traced back to “Koyaanisqatsi”. Perhaps the last bit of media I expected to include a “Koyaanisqatsi” reference is the trailer for “Grand Theft Auto IV”! 

The Plot: After he loses a bet and has to sell his horse, aging cowboy Pat Brennan (Randolph Scott) hitches a ride on a stagecoach that his friend Rintoon (Arthur Hunnicutt) is driving. Traveling with the newlywed Willard & Doretta Mims (John Hubbard & Maureen O’Sullivan) in tow, the stagecoach is held up at a way-station by Frank Usher (Richard Boone) and his young buck henchmen (Skip Homeier and Henry Silva). Upon learning that Doretta is the daughter of a wealthy local copper mine owner, Frank agrees to holding her ransom rather than simply robbing the stagecoach. While they wait for the money to arrive, Frank takes a liking to Brennan, who is aware that he and the rest of the captives will be killed after the ransom is paid. Can Brennan outwit the bad guys and save the day? And what exactly is a “Tall T”, anyway?

Why It Matters: The NFR’s brief write-up highlights the “deftly stylized” landscape in the film, as well as Boone’s work as “the most memorable of Boetticher’s witty, intelligent villains.” An essay by film distributor Michael Schlesinger is a love letter to Budd Boetticher.

But Does It Really?: Perhaps I set my expectations too high because of the Elmore Leonard connection (I liked “3:10 to Yuma”), but even at 77 minutes it was a chore to get through “The Tall T”. There are those who celebrate “Tall T” for being more complex and morally ambiguous than other Westerns of the era, and granted it is that, but it also felt a bit slight to me. At times the film aims for a gripping character study in the vein of “The Naked Spur”, but never fully hits that mark. Further research shows that “Tall T” made the NFR as representation of Budd Boetticher and his “Ranown Cycle” of Westerns, but without that context I could only take the film as face value, which given my track record for disliking Westerns did not bode well for “Tall T”. Based on the Boetticher/Ranown connection and the film’s uniqueness compared to other ‘50s Westerns, I won’t question the NFR standing for “Tall T”, but this was not one of my more memorable movie-watching experiences for this blog.

Everybody Gets One: Oscar “Budd” Boetticher spent the early 1940s working his way up the studio ladder at Columbia from crew member to first assistant director to director. In 1956, Boetticher got the opportunity to direct “Seven Men from Now”, a Western starring Randolph Scott and written by Burt Kennedy. Although the film was recut against Boetticher’s wishes, he enjoyed the collaboration so much that he quickly reunited with Scott and Kennedy for his next film, “The Tall T”. Also making their sole NFR appearance here is Richard Boone, best known at the time as the star of the TV drama “Medic”, who shortly after “Tall T” would begin a six season run in his most famous role as a gunfighter for hire on the Western “Have Gun – Will Travel”.

Wow, That’s Dated: Although we do have to sit through some chauvinism directed at the film’s sole female character, there are amazingly no slams against Indigenous people in this Western (in fact, no Indigenous people at all). Also, day for night shooting: How I’ve missed you.

Title Track: This film adaptation of “The Captives” needed another title because another film was already registered as “The Captives” (though I couldn’t find a record of any film called “The Captives” being released in the late 1950s). “The Tall Rider” was the film’s working title, with Boetticher changing it to “The Tall T” after the nickname for the Tenvoorde ranch, the way-station the robbery takes place at. Strangely, any dialogue referring to the ranch as “The Tall T” didn’t make the final cut, making the title a bit of a puzzler to the casual moviegoer. Side note: The film’s original trailer (embedded above) claims the T stands for Terror. It does not.

Seriously, Oscars?: No nominations for “The Tall T” from the Oscars or anyone else. Budd Boetticher’s sole Oscar nomination came in 1951 for his story of “Bullfighter and the Lady” (see “Legacy” below for more about Boetticher’s love of bullfighting and matadors).