Katz5
Joined Nov 2003
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To quote Barry Goldwater, hardly a "liberal Democrat":
"Mark my word, if and when these preachers get control of the (Republican) party, and they're sure trying to do so, it's going to be a terrible damn problem. Frankly, these people frighten me. Politics and governing demand compromise. But these Christians believe they are acting in the name of God, so they can't and won't compromise. I know, I've tried to deal with them."
And here we are, December 2024, a month away from the inauguration of the second non-consecutive term of a convicted felon who nearly half the country blindly support, millions even saying he was "sent by God." This infuriating but essential documentary explains how we got here. The seeds were planted in the post-Nixon mid 70s by John Bircher Dominionists like Paul Weyrich and Jerry Falwell, both of whom rose to political prominence under Reagan. The documentary fails to mention Jim Watt, who in addition to canceling the "bad influencers," the Beach Boys, from their annual July 4th National Mall concerts, was a devout Dominionist and hater of all things related to environmental protection. And now, the ghosts of these people are beaming from hell at the destruction a second Trump term is bound to unleash in Regime #2.
Republicans/MAGA blather on about "the Swamp" and "Deep State" in Washington. Christian Nationalism, which is really code for the KKK, and Evangelical Dominionism is the actual Deep State in Washington. The swamp is about to get deeper with zealots like Mike Johnson, who flies a Christian Nationalist flag (not an American flag) outside his office in the Capitol, leading the charge. Negative reviews from users are clearly from MAGAs and other snake oil believers who will not accept a separation of church and state in this country, as the Founding Fathers proclaimed. Boebert says that's "junk," so that ends that.
A staggering documentary that should have been streaming nonstop before the November 2024 Election. Welcome to Gilead, America.
And here we are, December 2024, a month away from the inauguration of the second non-consecutive term of a convicted felon who nearly half the country blindly support, millions even saying he was "sent by God." This infuriating but essential documentary explains how we got here. The seeds were planted in the post-Nixon mid 70s by John Bircher Dominionists like Paul Weyrich and Jerry Falwell, both of whom rose to political prominence under Reagan. The documentary fails to mention Jim Watt, who in addition to canceling the "bad influencers," the Beach Boys, from their annual July 4th National Mall concerts, was a devout Dominionist and hater of all things related to environmental protection. And now, the ghosts of these people are beaming from hell at the destruction a second Trump term is bound to unleash in Regime #2.
Republicans/MAGA blather on about "the Swamp" and "Deep State" in Washington. Christian Nationalism, which is really code for the KKK, and Evangelical Dominionism is the actual Deep State in Washington. The swamp is about to get deeper with zealots like Mike Johnson, who flies a Christian Nationalist flag (not an American flag) outside his office in the Capitol, leading the charge. Negative reviews from users are clearly from MAGAs and other snake oil believers who will not accept a separation of church and state in this country, as the Founding Fathers proclaimed. Boebert says that's "junk," so that ends that.
A staggering documentary that should have been streaming nonstop before the November 2024 Election. Welcome to Gilead, America.
Dennis Hopper's career was in a strange spot in 1980. Despite his infamous appearance in Apocalypse Now and the occasional indie film like The American Friend, his late '70s career was iffy. He co-wrote this film apparently after listening to the Neil Young album Rust Never Sleeps. The title of the movie is taken from the lyrics of that album's best known song, Hey Hey My My. And the film's story, especially the finale, seems directly lifted from the lyrics of the song.
Linda Manz had a bit of a winning streak in the late '70s. Days of Heaven, The Wanderers, a small part in the underrated Boardwalk, and then Out of the Blue. Her tough-as-nails street urchin-like characterizations were a cross between young Tatum O'Neal and Jodie Foster, with a lot of swearing thrown in for good measure. She didn't make many movies after Out of the Blue and sort of faded "into the black," eventually passing away in 2020.
In this movie, she plays Cindy/CeBe, the 15-year old punk musician wannabe who still worships Elvis. She's a 15-year old in age only; she acts more like a 20-year old. Her mom is a heroin addict and her dad (played by Hopper) spends the first half of the film in jail, for a drunken driving incident when CeBe was about 9 years old involving a school bus full of children. When Don (Hopper) is released, he's not quite rehabilitated and goes right back into his old ways: Drinking, fighting with his wife, fighting with his boss, and not-too-veiled sexual advances towards CeBe.
Admittedly this is a not a fun watch. It gets to be a little too raw, even compared to the films of indie pioneer John Cassavetes. And there are meandering scenes of Don just pushing garbage around in a bulldozer at his post-prison job. Inevitable confrontations between angry parents of the children Don killed in the accident offer no release.
Midway through the film, CeBe runs away from home and lands with a punk band in Vancouver for a few days. There is also a very strange sequence involving a cab driver who takes CeBe home for drugs and...something else.
This all leads to an appropriately grim finale. There is simply no hope for these characters. The film does hold your attention if only for Manz's eccentric performance. Hopper is, well, Hopper. Don in a way paved the way for Frank Booth in Blue Velvet. Many irredeemable qualities of Booth had their origins in Don.
Linda Manz had a bit of a winning streak in the late '70s. Days of Heaven, The Wanderers, a small part in the underrated Boardwalk, and then Out of the Blue. Her tough-as-nails street urchin-like characterizations were a cross between young Tatum O'Neal and Jodie Foster, with a lot of swearing thrown in for good measure. She didn't make many movies after Out of the Blue and sort of faded "into the black," eventually passing away in 2020.
In this movie, she plays Cindy/CeBe, the 15-year old punk musician wannabe who still worships Elvis. She's a 15-year old in age only; she acts more like a 20-year old. Her mom is a heroin addict and her dad (played by Hopper) spends the first half of the film in jail, for a drunken driving incident when CeBe was about 9 years old involving a school bus full of children. When Don (Hopper) is released, he's not quite rehabilitated and goes right back into his old ways: Drinking, fighting with his wife, fighting with his boss, and not-too-veiled sexual advances towards CeBe.
Admittedly this is a not a fun watch. It gets to be a little too raw, even compared to the films of indie pioneer John Cassavetes. And there are meandering scenes of Don just pushing garbage around in a bulldozer at his post-prison job. Inevitable confrontations between angry parents of the children Don killed in the accident offer no release.
Midway through the film, CeBe runs away from home and lands with a punk band in Vancouver for a few days. There is also a very strange sequence involving a cab driver who takes CeBe home for drugs and...something else.
This all leads to an appropriately grim finale. There is simply no hope for these characters. The film does hold your attention if only for Manz's eccentric performance. Hopper is, well, Hopper. Don in a way paved the way for Frank Booth in Blue Velvet. Many irredeemable qualities of Booth had their origins in Don.
Even Robert Altman's lesser-known films have their merits...well, perhaps if you exclude mid-'80s low points OC and Stiggs and Beyond Therapy. California Split takes a very simple premise - casual gambler befriends professional gambler and nearly has his life destroyed- and turns it into something special. Credit must be due to not only Altman, but to George Segal and Elliot Gould.
First off, Gould - the professional gambler Charlie. The performance is so natural you'd swear Gould is improvising some or most of his lines (maybe he did). After M*A*S*H, this is probably the loosest, almost jazz-like, performance from Gould. Bill, the casual gambler played by Segal, is stiffer, a lot more serious, and in serious trouble with his bookie "Spark." Bill apparently has a job at an L. A. magazine but all evidence of his job is gone by the film's second half.
Bill meets Charlie at a low stakes back room poker game in L. A. Charlie lives with two hookers (including one played by the late Gwen Welles, who a year later played the hopelessly untalented singer who ends up stripping in front of politicians in Altman's Nashville). Besides these two women, a few women at the poker games and in the casinos, and Bill's secretary, those are the only females that we encounter in the film. This is pure dysfunctional male bonding; Altman channeling John Cassavetes.
The ambiguous ending is something that we would never see now. All in all, California Split is a product of its time, and belongs on that list of "other classics" in Altman's resume (alongside Thieves Like Us, The Long Goodbye, 3 Women, A Wedding, and Cookie's Fortune).
First off, Gould - the professional gambler Charlie. The performance is so natural you'd swear Gould is improvising some or most of his lines (maybe he did). After M*A*S*H, this is probably the loosest, almost jazz-like, performance from Gould. Bill, the casual gambler played by Segal, is stiffer, a lot more serious, and in serious trouble with his bookie "Spark." Bill apparently has a job at an L. A. magazine but all evidence of his job is gone by the film's second half.
Bill meets Charlie at a low stakes back room poker game in L. A. Charlie lives with two hookers (including one played by the late Gwen Welles, who a year later played the hopelessly untalented singer who ends up stripping in front of politicians in Altman's Nashville). Besides these two women, a few women at the poker games and in the casinos, and Bill's secretary, those are the only females that we encounter in the film. This is pure dysfunctional male bonding; Altman channeling John Cassavetes.
The ambiguous ending is something that we would never see now. All in all, California Split is a product of its time, and belongs on that list of "other classics" in Altman's resume (alongside Thieves Like Us, The Long Goodbye, 3 Women, A Wedding, and Cookie's Fortune).