Happy Thanksgiving, everybody. Spent this ice-cold morning watching Anthony Mann’s terrific The Man From Laramie (1955), which has me entertaining ideas of ‘home’ on this particularly family oriented day, but maybe that’s for another time or for Jimmy Stewart to deal with. I will say though, that I was very into the film’s strong individualistic characters, whose protean and nuanced motivations end up giving the film a certain tragic, sympathetic feel to it (and beautiful Western landscapes in CinemaScope never hurt my feelings, I can tell you that). Speaking of tragic feelings, most of the Bulls game wasn’t very fun last night, until they pulled it out, of course…after I’d already fallen asleep. So I’m not thankful for that. I am, however, thankful for the above scene, taken from Terrence Malick’s The New World (2005), which in the spring of 2007 I ripped off — deliberately, mind you — in a short film I made called Action. Cut. Fuck., involving an inept student film shoot and a montage set to a midi-version of Wagner (again, deliberately). While filming this particular montage (in a public park), a large group of joggers ran across the park and into the background of our shot, which made for an awkward onscreen experience for our actor (i.e. friend) who to his credit totally fucking killed it, ultimately making the final cut and also the film’s greatest moment of accidental mis-en-scene, except for all the shots with that crazy karate/workout guy in the background. Which is to say, in so many words, that I’m thankful for memories, and of course, all the friends with which I share them.
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