FROM I AM LOVE TO CHOOSE ME

Eleven favorite movies to watch again.

There’s something to be said about re-watching movies you thought were noteworthy and made an impression. The same thing goes for books and music. There are certain books I re-read every five or ten years, and there is some music I continue to play again and again regardless of the decade. Finding new, pleasurable tidbits in a movie add to your continuing enjoyment and appreciation and ensure that you will re-watch some years down the line. Here are some of my favorite movies in that category.

I Am Love, 2010. Directed by Luca Guadagrino. I have seen this movie three times now, and it is always a visual treat. Tilda Swinton perfectly captures the role of a woman in the throes of change and desire. Set in Milan, in the beautiful home of a wealthy Italian industrialist, and in the pastoral mountains outside San Remo, Swinton is an outsider (a Russian) who has managed to sublimate her life and personality to conform to the demands of her husband’s family. Edoardo Gabbriellini, her son’s friend and genial chef, is the man who awakens her senses, Maria Paiato is her kind and sympathetic housekeeper, her only friend in fact, and Marisa Berenson is the family matriarch, and a sad reminder that too many facelifts are not a good thing. Beautifully photographed scenes abound — the snow covered streets, several dinner parties, lunch with a formidable, glistening, and enticing prawn, an alfresco love scene in a glimmering meadow, and interludes with Swinton’s children. LANGUAGE NOTE: Swinton learned to speak Italian with a Russian accent for this role. The movie is in Italian with subtitles. FOOD NOTE: I have always wondered about the movie’s frequently referred to Russian fish soup (Ukha). The one requirement is a clear broth and the main ingredient is “a lot of fish.” I looked up the recipe and made the soup recently — the broth wasn’t clear but it was delicious.

Bagdad Cafe, 1988. Directed and co-written by Percy Adlon. Adlon, the German director of this quirky and magical movie, also directed the wonderful Sugarbaby (1985), starring the same Marianne Sagebrecht who appears in this movie. Some foreign directors like Cuaron, Ang Lee, Inarritu, and Wim Wenders to name a few, can capture the essence of American life with unnerving accuracy. Have we as Americans become inured to our life, its possibilities and complexities; can foreigners see the essence of who we are and the bizarre elements of our character more keenly because they are onlookers? Sagebrecht is Jasmin, the heavyset, formally attired German, who, after a final dispute with her husband, arrives on foot at a remote, run down cafe on Route 66 in the Mohave Desert. CCH Pounder is Brenda, the grumpy, angry cafe owner, Jack Palance, a retired Hollywood set painter, Christine Kaufmann, a tattoo artist, Darron Flag, Brenda’s pianist son, and various other eccentric characters populate this script. Jasmin undertakes the transformation of everyone and the cafe with a combination of German thoroughness and magic, a realistic fairytale, and gets the place humming again. MUSIC NOTE: The haunting song, Calling You, written by Bob Telfson and sung by Jevetta Steel, illustrates the story perfectly. I like this version of the song the best, although the song has been covered by Celine Dion, Barbra Streisand, Natalie Cole, George Benson, Jeff Buckley and others.

The Crying Game, 1992. Directed by Neil Jordan. I saw this movie when it came out, but forgot how wonderful it was. The opening scene belies the story to come, as the camera slowly tracks over a bucolic, Irish country town, on a river, with carnival and ferris wheel in the background, as Percy Sledge’s When A Man Loves a Woman wafts into the sky. This is a most prescient song. The Northern Irish actor, Stephen Rea, Forest Whittaker, Miranda Richardson, Jaye Davidson, and Jim Broadbent are excellent in their roles in this ostensible thriller, an IRA kidnapping gone awry. Rather than a thriller, the movie is more a penetrating commentary on friendship, loyalty, and love. If you haven’t seen the movie, I won’t say more, because there really is a confounding surprise toward the end. HISTORICAL NOTE: I recently read Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland by Patrick Radden Keefe, and learned that Stephen Rea was married for 20 years to Dolours Price, a major IRA terrorist and hunger striker while in prison. AWARD NOTE: Rea was nominated for a 1992 Academy Award for the lead role.

The Fabulous Baker Boys, 1989. Written and directed by Steve Kloves. Another favorite, this movie was filmed in Seattle and captures the rainy, dark atmosphere to moody perfection. Jeff Bridges and Beau Bridges are brothers and partners in a cheesy piano act, playing jazz standards in seedy lounges and fighting to stay afloat. Jeff is a gloomy, but fine pianist, whereas Beau is the less talented musician but more optimistic, business end of the act. They decide they need a singer to re-energize their gigs, and Michelle Pfeiffer shows up at the audition in the nick of time and gets the job. The three-way relationship is well developed: the brothers interact in time honored competitive fashion, and Pfeiffer is electrifying as she becomes more confident and seductive as a singer. Jeff falls for her, and she responds in a memorable scene where she sings Makin’ Whoopie in a slinky red dress on top of a grand piano while he plays. The acting, the cinematography by Michael Ballhaus, the music score, and the hopeful ending, compliment each other, and make this a bittersweet reflection on lost and found opportunities and dreams.

Stormy Monday, 1988. Directed by Mike Figgis (Internal Affairs, Mr. Jones). Lots of film noir atmosphere, a great jazz and blues soundtrack, moody photography, and interesting plot make this thriller a feast for all the pertinent parts. Melanie Griffith, Tommy Lee Jones, Sting, and Sean Bean are the leads. And when have you last seen Griffith in a movie? Or Sting?

The Big Easy, 1986. Directed by Jim McBride (Breathless). Even after several viewings, this is still a visual and musical treat, an atmospheric story about New Orleans, police corruption, seduction and betrayal, which alternates between comedy and noir thriller. If ever there was a movie with Dennis Quaid in his prime, The Big Easy is it. Quaid as a charming, smooth-talking, on-the-take Cajun cop, and Ellen Barkin as a starchy, uptight DA have an electric chemistry which makes the movie worth watching again. He is the kind of outrageously flirtatious man who makes you want to roll your eyes heavenward, but who is frequently irresistible. The excellent supporting cast — John Goodman, Lisa Jane Persky, Grace Zabriskie, and Charles Ludlam — are well cast, and the soundtrack is enviable. MUSIC NOTE: The song Closer to You was written by Quaid and was in the movie. Shortly after the movie came out, I went to hear Quaid and his band at Parker’s on Aurora, a well known Seattle blues and rock club, now out of business. When he played the song, he got on a table, writhed around suggestively, and the crowd went wild. The version below is with Bonnie Raitt and a couple of the Neville Brothers.

Stealing Beauty, 1996. Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci. If you want to revel in the Tuscan countryside (a hilltop outside of Siena), and watch and listen to a collection of arty, interesting people eat, talk and express themselves, this is for you. Every time I watch it, I want to move there. It is a visually rich movie with a great soundtrack. Liv Tyler (in her coltish youth), Donal McCann, DW Moffett, Jeremy Irons, Sinead Cusack (MotherFatherSon), Jean Marais, and Rachel Weisz are the ex-pats living the life. ACTORS’ PERSONAL NOTE: Jeremy Irons and Sinead Cusack have been married for 42 years.

Montenegro, 1981. Directed by Dusan Makavejev. Although I’ve seen this truly surreal movie a couple of times, it remains impressively beguiling. Susan Anspach, an American married to a Swedish businessman, flees her comfortable, well-to-do family and life to live for two wild days with an exotic collection of guest workers. The plot is ingenious and unpredictable, and there are many memorable scenes and characters, including the scene where Anspach sings Gimme a Little Kiss at the Zanzi Bar, the kiss/dance sequence with Cvetkovic, and the shocking end. Erland Josephson, Per Oscarsson, Svetozar Cvetkovic, Marianne Jacobi, Bora Todorovic and others make the case for introducing some much needed eroticism and garlic into the dull Swedish way of life (as perceived by Makavejev).

Sea of Love, 1989. Directed by Harold Becker. Taken from a Richard Price novel, Al Pacino, Ellen Barkin, John Goodman, and William Hickey conspire in a tense thriller. It doesn’t hold up as well as I had hoped, but if you haven’t seen it, the much younger versions of Pacino and Barkin are interesting. American film noir movies frequently have the most unrealistic sex-love relationships, and this is no exception, but it has its moments. Boy meets girl, they have sex twice, and Pacino is ready to get married and move in with Barkin. The underlying themes of suspicion and terror are nicely woven into the plot. The soundtrack (Tom Waits concludes with Sea of Love) is first-rate and the New York scenes are memorable.

The Moderns, 1988. Directed by Alan Rudolph. This movie holds up better than the preceding one. Set in 1920s Paris, Keith Carradine is a painter who gets involved in a complicated art forgery scam. Linda Fiorentino, Genevieve Bujold, Geraldine Chaplin, Wallace Shawn, and John Lone participate in the intrigue, along with characters representing Gertrude Stein, Alice Waters, Hemingway and others. The costumes are gorgeous, the photography is rich (shot in Montreal), and Hemingway is always under the influence and quoting portentously from his books.

Choose Me, 1984. Written and directed by Alan Rudolph. I have seen this movie many times, but it never fails to entrance and reveals more subtleties each time. The disparate parts — the music, the photography, the screenplay, and the acting — mesh together to make a perfect movie. The atmospheric opening scene illuminates a dark street in front of a bar: people coming and going, dancing, and Lesley Ann Warren sashaying into view while Teddy Pendergrass sings the title song. Genevieve Bujold as Nancy Love, in what must be a career-defining role, is a radio show host of the Love Line, a therapist in dire need of therapy herself. Her every movement accentuates her role. Keith Carradine is a whimsical, shape-shifting, mental hospital escapee who has a passion for women, Lesley Ann Warren is Eve, the vulnerable and charismatic owner of a colorful dive bar in the sketchy part of town, and Rae Dawn Chong writes bad poetry as she drinks at the bar, the lovely, young wife of Patrick Bauchau, a suave, volatile, French criminal. (No one says “pervert” with as much panache as the ultra-sophisticated Bauchau.) The remarkable cinematographer, Jan Kiesser, captures the essence and feel of this movie in the Edward Hopper-like night scenes and in the back and forth tracking of faces during intimate conversations. He focuses on Carradine’s sculptured, elusive, and expressive face, Warren’s ever-changing expressions, the subtle mood changes reflected in Bujold’s face, and Chong’s unhappy yet courageous face. The photography highlights some unforgettable scenes — a sinister, Germanic poker game, shadowy violent flashbacks, Chong’s poster-filled apartment, the club itself and its denizens, Eve’s perfect house. This visually beautiful and unsettling romp through the lives of some quirky, damaged, and interesting characters begs the question: can you ever really know another person? The answer in this movie is no; everyone is an island that can only be temporarily breached. MUSIC NOTE: The soundtrack is perfectly attuned to the mood of the movie with the velvet-voiced Teddy Pendergrass (You’re My Choice Tonight (Choose Me), If I Had, and In My Time), Archie Shepp and Horace Parlan, Phil Woods and his quartet, and others, and enhances the atmosphere conjured up by the photography.

COMING UP NEXT: Cillian Murphy and Nuno Lopes.

(post featured photograph of Tilda by Nicholas Genin )