So did I really take cheap shots at James Dean, George Kennedy, and Henry Jaglom? Do I really feel superior to Hollywood movies, as A. O. Scott claimed in the New York Times? I would say that I take them more seriously than someone who has to write about them twice a week can afford to.
Indeed he does. That's Thom Andersen writing in Cinema Scope about the reaction to his film Los Angeles Plays Itself, which I'm about to reveal was my favorite film of 2004. In a year when people were split over the passion and the fahrenheit, two movies that each said very little that was surprising — and what they did say was drowned out by the bombast that they themselves fueled — the movie that surprised me the most was Andersen's little assembly of clips of movies that take place in and around Los Angeles.
But more on that later when we get to the 2004 recap. Let's not rush things!
I have been writing, by the way. Just not here, and not about movies, except in that publication that comes out every couple of months to which I'm grateful for the continued interest in my out-of-band take on things filmic. Oh, I was doing a lot of programming, or else those pathways might go cold. That takes an extraordinary amount of time, or maybe I just work slowly. Blah blah. Blogs that explain themselves or their forthcoming or recent absences, what a bore.
I've got more to tell you. I saw a bunch of movies that I forgot to mention. I was thinking about this thing, about this movie, and this book. Have a seat. Let me get my notes.